#they constantly have lovers spats and its so frustrating

[ev-enhotterthanyou]

I have succeeded in getting one of my friends to read the one and only horrendously long ATYD and I asked her where she was up to and she said:

"Sirius and Remus aren't talking, Sirius is being an asshole :("

BABES.

[pin-k-ink]

push and pull // feitan portor

tw ⇢ hate fucking, kinda rivals to lovers, mentions of violence and injuries, sexual tension, grinding, fingering, biting, cunnilingus, squirting, unprotected sex, dirty talk, cum-eating, implied voyeurism, rough sex, manhandling, overstimulation, feitan spanks you once

wc ⇢ 8.7k

a/n: this man is so difficult to write for 💀

The dimly lit hideout reeked of stale blood and smoke, the dank air carrying the weight of countless atrocities committed within its walls. In one corner, you and Feitan squared off, teeth bared and murder in your eyes.

"You son of a bitch," you snarled, fists clenched so tightly your nails bit into your palms. "That was my kill."

Feitan scoffed, his expression one of utter disdain. "Tch. As if a pathetic worm like you deserves the honor." His lips curled in a sneer. "I was putting that fool out of his misery before you botched the job...again."

A vein throbbed in your temple as you took a threatening step forward. "I'll show you who's pathetic, you arrogant little shit."

Before either of you could strike, a massive figure inserted itself between you, Nobunaga's broad chest blocking your path. "Enough!" he bellowed, dark eyes flashing dangerously. "Unless you want Chrollo brought into this, I suggest you two back off."

You and Feitan held each other's glare for a beat longer before grudgingly disengaging. As you turned away, Feitan spat a glob of phlegm that landed disturbingly close to your feet.

"This isn't over," he promised, voice laced with quiet menace.

Grinding your teeth, you fought the urge to whirl back around and rip Feitan's throat out with your bare hands. The only thing staying your hand was the unspoken rule against infighting - a rule that both of you constantly tested the limits of.

"One of these days..." you trailed off meaningfully.

Feitan's lip curled in a feral grin. "I can't wait."

As he slunk off into the shadows, you turned your frustrated glower on Nobunaga. The samurai met your look with an impassive stare.

"You two need to get your shit together," he stated bluntly. "These pissing contests are getting old."

You opened your mouth to protest, but Nobunaga raised a hand, cutting you off.

"I don't want to hear it. Take that shit outside if you must, but if you compromise one more mission with your bullshit, Chrollo will have both your heads."

Fuming silently, you could only nod in grudging agreement. Everyone in the Troupe knew better than to risk incurring their leader's wrath.

As Nobunaga wandered off, you allowed some of the tension to bleed from your shoulders with a weary sigh. Your eyes drifted to the corner where Feitan had disappeared, cold hatred settling into the pit of your stomach.

The next few days were a tense affair, the air thick with animosity every time you and Feitan occupied the same space. You traded insults and thinly veiled threats like volleys, each one more creatively vicious than the last.

"I heard the bakery down the street got a new shipment of rat poison," Feitan would muse idly, his dark eyes glittering. "I could slip some into your dinner if you'd like to try it."

You responded with a saccharine smile. "Why thank you, that's so considerate. But I ate rat poison for breakfast...your severed head on a platter is what I'm really craving."

The other Spiders quickly learned to give you both a wide berth during these escalating verbal sparring matches. Only Machi seemed unperturbed, rolling her eyes at your juvenile antics with a disdainful sniff.

The tension finally reached a breaking point a week later during a routine mission. Tasked with shaking down a local merchant for unpaid tribute, you and Feitan bickered the entire way over the most effective interrogation methods.

"If you so much as look at him wrong, I'll string you up by your entrails," Feitan hissed as you approached the target's store.

You barked out a harsh laugh. "As if I need pointers from an edgy little runt like you. I'll make this idiot squeal like a stuck pig while you watch and learn, shrimp."

The ensuing encounter quickly devolved into a pissing contest between the two of you over who could dole out the most creatively brutal threats and violence. By the time Pakunoda and Nobunaga arrived to collect you, the merchant was a blubbering, bloodied mess - the money long forgotten.

"This is the third time this month you idiots have fouled up a simple job," Pakunoda stated, her voice laced with barely restrained fury. "I've had enough of your bullshit."

Before either of you could react, her ability slammed into you both with the force of a typhoon. You slumped to the ground, mind wiped utterly blank as she extracted your memories of the incident.

When you came to a few moments later, Feitan was already lurching to his feet with a groan. You shot him a venomous glare, to which he responded by spitting a thick gobbet of blood at your feet.

"Starting to think you actually enjoy getting knocked around like that," you sneered, struggling to stand.

Feitan's eyes flashed with murderous rage. "Why you little-"

"ENOUGH!" Pakunoda's shout shook the room. "The next time you two sabotage a mission with your idiocy, I'll make sure you never remember your own names again. Am I making myself clear?"

You clenched your jaw but nodded stiffly. As much as you hated to admit it, the woman's threatening ability terrified you on a primal level.

In the ensuing silence, you cut your gaze towards Feitan, his chest heaving with each ragged breath. A thin trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, crimson stark against his pallid skin.

Despite your blinding loathing for the cocky little bastard, you couldn't deny the dark flicker of something else that stirred within you at the sight. You quickly smothered it beneath your ire.

One day, you vowed silently. One day, this powder keg would finally ignite.

The hideout was unnervingly quiet when the rest of the Troupe returned that evening. An eerie hush had settled over the dingy space, the kind of stillness that made the hairs on the back of one's neck prickle with unease.

As the group ventured deeper inside, the first drops of blood became visible - dark splatters marring the concrete floor. Nobunaga tensed, hand straying towards the sword slung across his back as they followed the grisly trail around a corner.

What they found then pulled them all up short, eyes widening in a mixture of shock and disgust. You and Feitan were in the center of the room, a tangled heap of flailing limbs and bloodied violence.

A feral snarl ripped from Feitan's throat as he tried in vain to dislodge you from where you'd pinned his smaller frame. In the struggle, his shirt had been shredded, exposing a mottled tapestry of dark bruises across his sinewy torso.

You weren't faring much better. Your face was a ruined mess - eyes swollen, lip split and gushing, vivid bite marks scoring your throat and shoulders. Despite the beating, you clung to him like a rabid animal, hands scrabbling for purchase to finish him.

"You crazy bitch!" Feitan's harsh pants turned your name into a vicious slur as he bucked and thrashed.

In response, you drove your elbow towards his face with sickening force, not caring that his head snapped back hard enough to crack against the floor. Bloodied spittle flecked his cheek as you leaned in close, lips peeling back in a manic snarl of your own.

"That all you got, runt?" You wheezed out a breathless laugh, nails gouging deep furrows into Feitan's straining throat. "I was hoping for more of a fight before I killed you."

A guttural growl bubbled up from Feitan's chest as his hips snapped upwards with bruising force, momentarily dislodging you. The two of you rolled, a flurry of grappling limbs and tattered clothing, each desperately struggling for the upper hand to deliver the killstroke.

It was Machi who finally intervened, upper lip curled in a sneer of revulsion. With a deft flick of her nen threads, she sliced through the melee and bound you both - Feitan hog-tied and you lashed spread-eagle to the floor.

"Enough of this depraved idiocy," she bit out, dark eyes flickering with disgust. "You're both lucky we don't slit your throats here and now for such weakness."

Feitan strained furiously against his bonds, deathly pale except for the mottled mess of his ruined face. His gaze swung wildly between you and the other Spiders, feral and uncomprehending.

You simply laid there, chest heaving with deep, ragged breaths. Spitting out a thick gobbet of blood, you turned your head slowly until your battered gaze met Feitan's. A dark, unreadable look passed between you both - something haunted and turbulent flickering behind the hatred and violence.

If the rest of the Troupe noticed, they said nothing. Gathering themselves, they began to disperse - leaving the two of you alone in the wreckage until Chrollo could decide your punishment.

Chrollo's expression was utterly impassive as he surveyed the two of you - bruised, battered shells of your former selves after that vicious brawl. His lips quirked ever so slightly as he took in your defiant glares, eyes flickering with loathing.

"You two have become a liability," he stated, voice devoid of inflection. "Your pathetic inability to control yourselves nearly compromised everything we've built."

You opened your mouth to protest, but Chrollo raised a slender hand, effectively silencing you.

"Normally, I would have Pakunoda wipe your memories clean and be done with it." His eyes bored into you, glacial and unrelenting. "However, I have another task that requires your...unique talents."

Feitan made a rude noise of derision from where he sat slumped against the wall. You shot him a withering glare before turning an expectant look back towards your leader.

"You will attend the DeMario charity gala in two weeks' time," Chrollo continued calmly. "Posing as a wealthy couple, you'll insinuate yourselves into the inner circles and extract information from Marcello Randazzo - rumored to be a prolific collector of rare antiquities."

The implication hung heavy in the air for a beat before the weight of it slammed into you full force. Your mouth fell open in disbelief as you turned an incredulous look on Feitan, who was already visibly bristling with outrage.

"You can't be serious," you sputtered, temper flaring hot and bright. "There's no way in hell I'm playing make-believe as that bastard's lover!"

"Over my dead body." Feitan's low, raspy voice was laced with venom. "I'd sooner claw my own eyes out than be seen on that bitch's arm."

Chrollo's eyes flashed warningly and you felt the slightest prickle of his powerful aura washing over you, a silent threat. "You'll do as I command. Unless you'd both prefer to follow the fate of the hostages we collected from that ill-advised debt collection?"

He let the unspoken threat hang in the air for a long moment before continuing.

"I'm sure Marcello's information is worth playing along for an evening. Unless you'd prefer some...permanent disciplinary actions?"

You and Feitan held each other's murderous look for a moment longer before grudgingly turning your gazes away in submission. As much as you despised each other, neither of you were foolish enough to legitimately cross Chrollo.

"I expect you'll both conduct yourselves with aplomb and professionalism befitting our reputation," your leader stated flatly. "Any further disruptions or unbecoming behavior, and I'll have Pakunoda take away more than just your memories of the gala."

With that ominous warning, he swept from the room, leaving you and Feitan alone to simmer in your mutual resentment and disgust.

Seconds ticked by, taut with palpable tension, before you finally broke the silence with a contemptuous sneer.

"I hope you know how to dance, Portor," you bit out acidly. "I have a strong urge to grind my heel into those stumpy little feet of yours."

Feitan's eyes slitted with murderous promise as he levered himself upright with a pained grunt.

"Keep dreaming," he shot back caustically. "I'll be counting the minutes until I can slit that pretty throat of yours without consequence."

As your vicious glares clashed and held, it was abundantly clear that this mission posing as lovers would be anything but smooth sailing. For both your sakes, you could only hope the inevitable storm wouldn't capsize everything you'd built.

The ornate dressing room was suffused with tension as thick as the heavy perfume hanging in the air. You sat rigidly before the gilded vanity, jaw clenched tight as Machi deftly styled your hair into an elegant updo.

"Would you relax?" The girl's voice held a hint of irritation. "You're as wound up as a clockspring."

You shot her a venomous look in the mirror's reflection. "Forgive me if I'm not exactly eager to play Ken and Barbie with that sadistic little gnome."

A snort of muffled laughter came from the chaise where Shizuku and Pakunoda were laid out, idly inspecting their phone screens. You pivoted to fix them with a withering glare.

"Something amusing?"

Shizuku shook her head quickly, eyes widening innocently even as her lips twitched with suppressed mirth. Pakunoda simply arched one sculpted brow in a look of infinite disdain.

"Must you be so crass?" The blonde's dulcet tones somehow managed to sound derisive. "This is an important mission, not some childish game."

"Tell that to our 'esteemed leader'," you bit out acidly, making air-quotes. "Playing dress-up as Feitan's loving wife is about the sickest joke I've ever heard."

Machi made a soft noise of disgust as she speared another jeweled hairpin into place. "You're both behaving like petulant children. This is simply a job - nothing more. The sooner you and Feitan stop acting like lovesick buffoons, the smoother this night will go."

Her reprimand struck a nerve and you opened your mouth to deliver a biting retort when a sharp rap at the door cut you off. A moment later, Feitan slipped into the room, looking equal parts irritated and sheepish in his elegant tuxedo and slicked-back hair.

Your breath caught momentarily in your throat as you took in his appearance. Despite the permanent scowl etched onto his features, he cleaned up...well. The fine charcoal suit hugged the lean lines of his muscled frame in a way that should have been illegal.

Just as quickly, you smothered the errant thought, sneering at him in disdain. "Well, well, if it isn't Feitan Portor himself, dressed up like someone finally house-trained him."

Feitan's eyes flashed and he opened his mouth - no doubt to deliver a scathing rebuttal - when Machi smoothly interjected.

"Enough, you two." She leveled you both with a quelling look. "The car is ready, so I suggest you get your acts together before I tie you both up in nen threads to keep you in line."

An ominous threat given her prowess with her sadistic ability. You bit back the retort burning on your tongue and forced yourself to take a steadying breath. God, this night was going to be interminable.

Rising fluidly, you smoothed your hands down the shimmering fabric of your evening gown, subtly reveling in the way Feitan's eyes automatically tracked the movement before flicking away. Feeling petty, you allowed your lips to curve into a taunting smirk.

"Well, shall we, dear?" You crooned the endearment like a slur, watching his jaw tense infinitesimally. "I can already smell the misery wafting from those uppity pricks just waiting to be robbed blind."

Feitan's look could have curdled milk, but he extended his arm stiffly all the same. As you entwined yours through the crook of his elbow, his fingertips brushed feather-light against the bare skin of your back, raising gooseflesh in their wake.

"Lead the way, wife" he bit out with obvious distaste. "Try not to embarrass me too terribly in front of the marks."

Your derisive laughter was a caustic thing as you allowed him to escort you towards the exit.

"Oh Feitan, we're way past embarrassing at this point. I'd say this night is primed to be a total shitshow."

His dark chuckle echoed yours as you departed the dressing room - a soft, shared sound that somehow managed to sound equal parts threatening and thrilling.

The sleek town car purred to a stop before the opulent entranceway, and you took a steadying breath before allowing Feitan to assist you out onto the crimson carpet. Despite the months of rigorous training and countless assignments in your bloody career, you couldn't deny the flutters of trepidation in your stomach.

This was it - the moment to see if you two idiotic sadists could pull off playing a loving couple without slitting each other's throats.

Feitan's hand was firm at your elbow as you ascended the grand staircase, his expression locked in a rictus of forced neutrality. Up close, you could make out the barest hint of cologne wafting from him - something earthy and sophisticated that shouldn't have appealed, yet had your throat tightening oddly all the same.

Then you were sweeping through the arched doors and into the spectacle of the ballroom itself. A dazzling kaleidoscope of glittering crystal and jewel-toned decor assaulted the senses. The hum of cultured chatter and tinkling laughter washed over you as you took in the crowd of Yorknew's social elite, all decked in their finest attire.

You felt Feitan tense almost imperceptibly beside you before he was smoothly taking the lead, guiding you further into the fray with a proprietary hand at the small of your bare back. A shiver traced your spine at the contact, though from revulsion or something else, you couldn't say.

"Try not to look so much like a viper about to strike, dear," he murmured against your ear, voice a surprising low rumble. "We're supposed to be the picture of marital bliss, remember?"

You bit back the instinctive need to elbow him in the throat, instead pasting on a sickly-sweet smile.

"Of course, darling. Though with how titillating you look in that dashing suit, I may have trouble keeping my hands off you in public."

His lips quirked in a mockery of a grin, even as his dark eyes remained flat and assessing. For all his bravado, Feitan was firmly in killer-mode, scanning the ballroom with cold calculation.

Playing along, you looped one arm through his, allowing your free hand to roam almost territorially over the fine material of his jacket as you began to mingle with the other revelers. With each new cluster of mark- ahem, guest you engaged, you felt yourself relaxing infinitesimally into the role of the devoted wife on her husband's arm. Feitan too, seemed to warm to the act, his featherlight touches and heated murmurs just skirting the line between play-acting and something darker, more authentic.

It wasn't until you were deep in conversation with one of Randazzo's alleged underbosses that the illusion flickered momentarily. Leaning in conspiratorially, you relayed the crucial details you'd extracted about the mobster's dealings in the black market antiquities trade. But when you glanced up to share a weighted look with your "husband", you found Feitan's gaze was distinctly...elsewhere.

Following his stare, you bit back an irritated hiss at the realization that his attention had been utterly diverted by the low neckline of your evening gown, eyes firmly trained on the swell of exposed cleavage. His tongue darted out to wet his lips unconsciously as he drank in the view.

"Feitan!" You hissed out the side of your mouth, snapping your fingers to regain his focus. "Are you listening, or are my tits really that mesmerizing?"

He startled, gaze snapping guiltily upwards as you fixed him with a heated glare. For a beat, Feitan seemed utterly nonplussed, caught completely off-guard in a rare moment of distracted...appreciation? Honesty? His eyes were wide and molten in a way you'd never seen before - utterly disarming.

Then the mask slammed back into place with a nearly audible click, and he simply arched one brow in response.

"My apologies, dear. You were saying?"

And just like that, you were speaking to the most dangerous man in the room once again, cold and brutally efficient. Swallowing hard, you relayed the rest of the intel automatically, even as something restless took up residence beneath your breastbone - an odd, disquieting feeling sparked by that split-second glimpse of whatever it was you'd seen flickering behind Feitan's eyes.

As you continued to circulate through the crowd and ply your roles, you found yourself stealing sidelong glances at your diminutive partner more frequently than was wise. Each time, it was to find him in typical form - lethal focus etched across his features, not a hair out of place or a single tell to betray...whatever it was you'd witnessed earlier.

The grand ballroom seemed to bleed into a hazy blur around you as the waltz began, the opening strains of the orchestra swelling through the cavernous space. Feitan's hand found your waist with surprising gentleness, pulling you into the first steps of the dance.

For a long moment, you simply stared at each other, the newfound proximity seeming to crackle with a charge you refused to put a name to. Up close like this, you could make out the faintest dusting of freckles across the sharp planes of his cheekbones, the dark fan of his lashes. Little details you'd never noticed - or never allowed yourself to notice until now.

"I must say, dear wife," he murmured, voice a dark rumble that shivered across your skin. "You clean up rather nicely for a miserable little gutter rat."

You arched one brow coolly, refusing to be baited even as you moved seamlessly with him across the floor. "I'm surprised you can recognize 'nice' through that perverse little killer's lens of yours, darling husband."

His lips quirked in a semblance of a grin, though it held no mirth - only the same lingering malice that seemed to follow you both like a sickly perfume.

"The better to watch every tantalizing inch of you with, my vicious little vixen." His grip tightened fractionally at your waist, fingertips brushing bare skin. "Perhaps I'll have to stake my claim more...thoroughly later."

You scoffed loudly, allowing your palm to roam down the firm plane of his chest as you spun in seamlessly for the next figure.

"Trying to whisper sweet nothings won't get you far, darling. I've heard more creative threats from preschoolers."

Feitan simply hummed deep in his throat, a rough sound that inexplicably raised the fine hairs along the back of your neck. His gaze, when you met it again, had taken on a dark, hooded quality that had heat pooling low in your belly despite yourself.

"Say what you will, wife," he practically purred, dipping you in a slow, lingering arc that brought your bodies into sinful alignment. "We both know those pretty little lips were made for better uses than childish barbs."

His thumb caressed your chin with barely-there tenderness as he pulled you upright again, scorching your skin like a brand. For an endless second, you simply swayed there in silence, chests brushing with every stuttering inhale, caught in the molten undertow of his stare.

Dimly, you registered the buzz of an alarmed voice echoing over the sound system, followed by the unmistakable wail of police sirens dopplering towards the estate. Masks began slipping as guests registered the threat, panic seeping into the ballroom like a tenuous haze.

In that moment, time seemed to splinter apart kaleidoscopically, stretching and scattering until all that remained was the unnameable thing gripping your heart in its stifling vise. You turned back to Feitan, already anticipating the vicious string of threats ready to tumble from his lips as your covers were blown apart.

But there was no anger simmering in those unfathomable depths this time - only a searing sort of intensity that pinned you in place, ignited something low and precarious in your core that you didn't dare put a name to. His fingers were still ghosting across the curve of your jaw, a scorching benediction that somehow managed to convey both possession and worship in the same toxic mix.

You watched, utterly transfixed, as he leaned in with aching slowness, lips brushing the softest whisper against the thrumming pulse at your throat. Then he simply held there, breath searing like a brand, driving ragged splinters of sensation rocketing through your body.

"Run," he rasped, the barest brushing of sound against your superheated skin.

Just like that, the spell was shattered, reality cleaving back into your field of vision as distant shouts and shattering crystal rent the atmosphere. Feitan's fingers slipped from your skin, leaving a throbbing ache of loss in their wake as he pivoted and simply vanished through the thickening crowd.

Blinking dazedly, you found your limbs unlocking woodenly as you staggered into motion, following the only directive that seemed to make sense as the ballroom descended into pandemonium. One foot in front of the other as your heart jackhammered double-time in your ribcage, coursing with an unfamiliar feeling that felt a hell of a lot like it was tearing you apart from the inside.

Run. The word seemed to echo inside your skull as you fled through the service exit, a ghost's refrain. Though from what - the explosion of chaos around you or the cataclysm blooming deep within, you weren't entirely sure.

All you knew was that you would never be the same after this night. How could you when Feitan had irrevocably annihilated every fragile barrier you'd constructed between you, leaving your entire world shifted on its axis?

The dank alleyway reeked of rot and piss as you slammed Feitan against the filthy brickwork, fingers snarling in the lapels of his once-pristine tuxedo. A thin trickle of blood oozed from the split in his brow, vivid crimson against his pallid features.

"This is all your fault, you arrogant little prick!" The words tore from your throat in a guttural snarl as you shook him viciously. "If you could stop eye-fucking me long enough to focus for two goddamn seconds-"

"My fault?" He cut you off with a wheezing laugh, still managing to look utterly derisive despite the position you had him pinned in. "If your whorish little act wasn't so shameless and distracting-"

You drew back a fist, fully prepared to break his smug nose, when a peel of distant sirens had you both freezing. After a momentary standoff, you released him with a disgusted shove, wiping a trembling hand across your sweat-slicked brow as you struggled to leash your spiraling temper.

"Forget it, we need to move. Our exit is compromised."

Feitan sneered at you as he straightened his jacket with a dismissive tug, refusing to acknowledge he was just as rattled. His gaze took on a faraway look for a split second before he gave a tight nod.

"Chrollo sent a new set of coordinates. There's a safe house two blocks west."

You fell into step beside him, moving at a clipped pace that matched the jackhammer pounding of your pulse. Every few steps, your shoulders would brush with the barest whisper of contact, reigniting a phantom echo of the way he'd felt pressed against you on the dance floor.

The memory had you grinding your teeth hard enough to make the hinges creak, riling the sickly ribbon of confusion currently squirming through your gut. What the hell had happened back there? One minute you were shredding each other with barbs as natural as breathing, the next...

You shook your head sharply, refusing to dwell on the hunger that had momentarily flickered in Feitan's gaze. Or the way your entire body had sung in response, every nerve alight like a livewire about to detonate. It was nothing - a fleeting second of insanity brought on by the adrenaline and heightened circumstance. An anomaly, meaningless in the grand scheme of your...whatever the hell this sick alliance was.

Shoving the errant thoughts aside, you pushed forward into the overgrown lot Feitan indicated, trampling a wavering path through the weeds towards a squat, nondescript building. Not a word was exchanged as he disarmed the security system and led you inside to the dingy, compact space that would be your shelter for the foreseeable future.

You grimaced as you took in the sparse furnishings and musty odor. "Fucking fantastic."

Feitan simply grunted, dropping his suit jacket over the back of a battered recliner as he began divesting himself of weapons and gear. Only when he reached the buttons on his shirt did he pause, shadows obscuring his expression as he cut you a sidelong glance.

"I'd offer to let you shower first but..."

But there was only one visible door that presumably led to a solitary bathroom. You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling the first tendrils of an stress-migraine coiling behind your eyes.

"Just get on with it before I decide to gut you and bleed out in the tub like a fucking woman scorned."

A bark of laughter punched from Feitan at the morbid joke before he could smother it. You blinked at him, oddly thrown by the genuine amusement glinting in his obsidian stare for a fleeting second. Then the moment passed, and he simply shrugged out of the soiled dress shirt, turning to disappear through the doorway without further comment.

You were left standing in the middle of the ramshackle living area, keenly aware of the steady drip of blood tracking from your split knuckles to patter on the cracked vinyl floor. With measured inhales, you attempted to shunt the chaos of the evening into a small, containable box to be unpacked later. Feitan was right, getting cleaned up would be the priority for now. After that...

Well, you'd just have to sort through this tangled web you'd woven like adults. And if violence and bloodshed was the only way to sever the noose cinching around your sanity, so be it. At least that path you understood - that was stable, solid ground to walk upon with him.

This... whatever it was brewing between you like a virulent sickness, was far more lethal.

The pipes clanked and groaned as you twisted the tarnished shower knobs, filling the cramped bathroom with a humid, enveloping steam. Grimacing, you peeled off the tattered remnants of your evening gown, letting the ruined silk puddle at your feet.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the warped mirror above the chipped porcelain sink - hair lank and makeup ravaged, vivid bruises already darkening along your ribs from your rough tumble during the escape. More telling, however, were the faint indents marring the swell of your breast, pressed there by Feitan's fingertips in the ballroom like brands seared into your very being.

A violent shudder ripped through you at the visceral recollection, every nerve ending rekindling with phantom echoes of his scorching touch. Slamming your palm against the mirror, you shattered the refracted image into a thousand fractals, each one reflecting back the turmoil roiling in your expression.

With a ragged exhale, you shed the rest of your undergarments and stepped beneath the mercifully scalding spray, welcoming the harsh sting across your battered skin. Anything to dull the incessant buzzing beneath, the molten licks of pure confusion that had you splaying one palm over your lower abdomen in a futile gesture.

After several long, steadying minutes, you finally felt coherent thought filtering back, shunting the chaos into submission - at least for now. Grabbing a towel, you twisted it around your body and yanked open the bathroom door, striding back into the main room with a cloud of steam billowing in your wake.

Feitan stood in the cramped kitchenette, spine taut as a bowstring as he doctored the split over his brow with clumsy, one-handed stitches. At your abrupt entrance, his shoulders twitched and rolled almost imperceptibly, head swiveling to face you with narrowed eyes.

"About time," he groused, voice sandpaper rough. "I was starting to think you'd drowned yourself in there to avoid facing the cosmic fuckup you-"

Whatever insult he'd been ready to deploy withered and died as his obsidian gaze dropped lower, raking over the exposed expanse of damp skin visible beneath your precariously knotted towel with undisguised hunger. His throat bobbed convulsively as he swallowed hard, suddenly looking anywhere but at you.

"Dammit," he snarled after a strained pause, teeth snapping the crass endearment like a viper's strike. "A little warning about parading around like that would be appreciated."

Despite the multiple layers of ice coating his tone, you detected the barest wobble crack along its surface - an infinitesimal tremor betraying the struggle to maintain his sangfroid. A meandering lick of validation bloomed through you at having caught him so thoroughly off-guard, splitting your lips in a mocking moue.

"What, am I making Lord Feitan flustered?" You stalked forward challengingly, towel slipping lower with every predatory step to bare more glistening skin. "Seems your vaunted self-control has sprung a rather conspicuous leak, husband."

His nostrils flared minutely at the poisonous endearment, fingers tightening around the bloodied gauze until his knuckles shone bone-white. Yet, his stare remained steadfastly fixed above your collarbones, the muscle in his jaw twitching erratically.

"Keep pushing, wife ," he bit out in a strained rasp. "You're cruising for a brutality you're ill-equipped to face tonight."

The unveiled threat landed square in your solar plexus, simultaneously shunting your reckless desire to poke the caged beast and stoking a deeper, infinitely more terrifying burn low in your belly. You felt yourself sway forward of its own volition, every instinct honed on a whetstone of fear and adrenaline screaming at you to retreat, to reassert the fragile barriers before they were obliterated entirely.

Yet you held your ground, searching Feitan's expression for any flicker of the same wounded animality you felt ricocheting through your own veins, your towel slipping another infinitesimal fraction down your sternum in the process. His eyes followed the movement with searing intensity before snapping back up, something dark and unfurling igniting in those obsidian depths.

"Bring it, husband," you heard yourself hissing recklessly. "I'll shove those brutalities so far up your sadistic little ass, you'll be regurgitating blood and teeth for a month."

You could have sworn his pupils blew wide at that, flaring with undisguised relish before he was lunging for you, movements a blur of untamed violence. If you'd hoped to provoke him, to unleash whatever it was roiling between you into the light, you were rewarded a thousand fold.

His hands were iron manacles around your biceps, slamming you back against the grease-stained counter as his lithe body caged yours with arching menace. You crashed together like colliding celestial bodies - unstoppable force meeting immovable object in a maelstrom of jagged breaths and stifling heat.

"Should've kept your mouth shut, dear," he growled against the hammering pulse in your throat. Each consonant scorched like a brand, igniting detonations of raw sensation you were powerless to withstand. "Now you get to take exactly what's coming to you."

His hips rolled into yours with bruising force, crushing your lower bodies together as his teeth sank into the juncture of your neck and shoulder hard enough to reave a harsh gasp from you. Not quite a bite, but a vicious promise all the same - a precursor to the violence he was poised to inflict that would leave no question as to whom you belonged.

You were suddenly lightheaded, nerves blazing white-hot as your body responded viscerally to his provocation. Mortification, anger, arousal - every emotion flooded your senses in a dizzying, inextricable miasma until you couldn't be sure what you felt any longer. Only that you burned feverishly from within, every cell straining towards the brutal inevitability of Feitan's next calculated strike.

When it came, your world whited out entirely, the resounding concussion off the counter rattling you down to your very marrow. There was no pain, only a discordant ringing and an unbearable pressure centered below your diaphragm. A sustained, broken noise reverberated in the cramped space that you belatedly recognized as your own ruined voice.

Feitan remained locked against you with grim triumph, the pads of his fingers leaving livid crescents in your flesh as he drank in your total debasement and undoing. When he leaned in next, you were certain without a shadow of a doubt that anything left unraveled between you would be torn asunder in the next breath.

You glared at Feitan from your sprawled position on the floor, chest heaving as you swiped the back of your hand across your split lip. A thin rivulet of blood trailed from the corner of his mouth as well, stark against his pallid skin.

"You're going to pay for that, you sadistic little bastard," you growled, levering yourself upright with your elbows.

Feitan simply arched one brow mockingly, his tongue darting out to lave at the crimson seeping from his busted lip. The sight of it, so obscene yet undeniably magnetic, had molten anger roiling through your veins anew.

"I'd like to see you try, bitch," he taunted in that raspy timbre that somehow managed to sound both threatening and profoundly unsettling. "Unless you plan on crying for Chrollo to intervene again?"

You were across the room in a blur, your towel slipping loose as you tackled him with bruising force. Feitan met your violence with feral glee, hands snarling in your sodden hair as you grappled viciously. The two of you crashed and rolled, trading blow for stinging blow in a whirlwind of flailing limbs.

At some point, your towel had come undone entirely, the terrycloth puddle abandoned on the floor as your bare skin met Feitan's sweat-slicked torso. Yet neither of you registered the complete state of undress, too singularly focused on the vicious undulations of your battle.

Finally, you managed to pin him beneath you, knees caging his hips as you fought to trap his wiry arms. Feitan thrashed and strained, every sinewy muscle corded to breaking as he bowed against your weight in a futile attempt to dislodge you.

Then, all at once, something within the atmosphere shifted - a subtle charge bleeding the rage from the air in a dizzying spiral. You both stilled as one, harsh pants reverberating between your sweat-sheened forms as you registered your tangled states. Feitan's gaze was hooded, pupils blown wide as they raked over every inch of your exposed, vulnerable flesh with undisguised hunger.

Belatedly, you realized your fingers were fisted in the sweat-damp fabric of his tank top, straining the material to translucence and leaving very little to the imagination. Your lips parted on a ragged inhale as Feitan's hips canted up in a subconscious grind, the blatant ridge of his cock catching you square between your bodies.

Time seemed to slow to a viscous crawl then, the world narrowing to the minuscule space between your labored breaths. Feitan's lashes fluttered once, twice, before his eyes slitted back open - dark pools of naked wanting that had you arching into him before conscious thought could intervene.

His mouth was searing, branding yours with a ferocity that stole the air from your lungs. Yet you returned his onslaught with equal desperation, all nails and teeth as you clutched him tighter against your naked body. There was no preamble, no gentle exploration - only the wild, unrestrained explosion of every unspoken want and need as you finally surrendered to the maelstrom.

Your fingers found the hem of his tank top, tearing it upward impatiently. Feitan's muscles rippled beneath your fingertips as you ran them reverently across every scarred inch of his chest and abdomen. When you flicked a teasing thumb across one hardened nipple, he hissed into your mouth, bucking up hard.

"Fuck," he swore, breaking the kiss with a ragged gasp. His fingers were tangled in your hair, holding you steady as his other hand skimmed up your bare flank. "If I'd known what a devious little whore you were, I'd have fucked you over every surface in that ballroom ages ago."

You arched one brow mockingly. "Is that so? Or would you have been too busy eye-fucking me to notice?"

The words left your lips in a breathless, taunting rush, and suddenly you were on your back again, the wind knocked from your lungs as Feitan pinned you against the floor with an animalistic snarl. He looked wild, utterly disheveled as his hips canted hard between your thighs.

"Perhaps I would have fucked that smart mouth of yours right there in the middle of the dance floor, wife," he practically purred, eyes gleaming as he rocked harder. "Would have had everyone watching how thoroughly I owned you."

Heat bloomed through your lower body at the vivid imagery, even as a traitorous moan slipped past your lips. Feitan smirked, a smug, victorious expression that had you surging up to catch his bottom lip between your teeth. He groaned, heady and deep, as you bit down, blood mingling on your tongues.

Then, abruptly, he was wrenching free, leaving you sprawled against the cracked tile. Before you could recover, his palm was wrapping around your ankle, yanking you across the floor like a ragdoll. Your fingers clawed at the ground, scrambling for purchase as you were dragged inexorably towards the couch.

The rough material was cold and abrasive against your skin as he flipped you over, yanking your ass into the air. Then his hands were spreading your thighs wide, and he was sinking his teeth into the tender flesh at the crease of your hip. You whimpered, hips grinding back against him mindlessly as your nails tore into the worn fabric.

His fingers were rough, merciless as they probed at your entrance, slicking through the evidence of your arousal. A choked moan slipped free at the sensation, back bowing as your spine arched involuntarily.

"Oh, look at how wet and desperate my vicious little whore is," Feitan crooned, two fingers curling inside you as his thumb circled your clit. "This what you've been aching for, wife?"

He punctuated the taunt by leaning in and biting the swell of your ass, sending a violent shudder through your core. Your fingers tangled in the frayed throw, the fibers ripping under your grip.

"Go fuck yourself," you bit out, hips canting back against him.

A sharp crack rang out as Feitan brought his palm down on your ass, a livid welt flaring across your skin. The sudden pain had you hissing, a curse rising on the tip of your tongue before it died as a third finger was shoved roughly inside you.

"Careful what you wish for," Feitan murmured, a hint of danger lacing his tone as his fingers thrust into you at a brutal pace. "I'd be more than happy to oblige, since you're such a cock-hungry little whore."

His words sent an undefinable pang through your core, your muscles clenching around him in a visceral response. He chuckled darkly, withdrawing his fingers with a final, lewd curl. You heard the jangle of his belt, the rustle of clothing being discarded, and then he was dragging the thick head of his cock through your folds.

"Please," the word escaped in a hoarse, pleading breath, the last vestiges of your pride crumbling away.

Feitan paused, his entire body stilling. A long, tense moment passed, the only sound between you two the rasp of your combined, ragged breathing. Then, slowly, his palms slid over the curve of your hips, thumbs hooking along the crest of your ass as he spread you wider.

"As you wish, dear wife," he replied in a strained whisper.

His first thrust was a violent thing, driving straight to the hilt in one harsh, relentless motion. You keened, fingers tearing deeper into the couch as the pain-pleasure of the stretch burned through every nerve ending.

Then, without pause, Feitan was fucking you in earnest, hips snapping forward with savage, staccato motions. Every inch of you was alight, electrified by the feel of him, the sound of his low, guttural grunts as he ravaged you.

You felt the tension mounting within, coiling low in your belly and spreading through every extremity like liquid fire. When Feitan's thumb ghosted against the tight ring of your ass, a violent spasm rocked you, a choked sob tearing free.

"You like that?" He practically growled, the pad of his thumb teasing the sensitive rim with a wicked rhythm that matched his thrusts. "Such a filthy little thing, you'll take it wherever I decide to shove it, won't you?"

Before you could even respond, the digit was pushing inside, sinking into your ass and stretching the tight muscle in a way that had tears spilling down your cheeks. Everything was too much, too overwhelming, the twin intrusions setting off a detonation of sensations that had you seeing stars.

You came hard, an uncontrolled explosive gush of liquid spraying all over the couch. Feitan moaned, an obscene, animalistic sound that had another aftershock wracking your entire body.

"Fuck, yes," he snarled, fingers digging bruises into your hips as he fucked you through the orgasm. "Soak me, whore. Mark me with every fucking inch of this tight little cunt."

His thumb twisted in tandem with his thrusts, stretching the ring of muscle to an almost-painful extent. It was too much, too fast, but every sensation felt dialed up to an eleven, leaving you helpless to do anything but ride the wave of his brutal pleasure.

When you came again, the scream ripped from your throat was a broken, fractured thing, a desperate, primal noise that Feitan seemed to revel in. You sagged against the couch, trembling uncontrollably as another rush of liquid coated his cock and thighs.

"God, that's it," Feitan hissed, sounding utterly undone. "Fuck, look at you, soaking and gushing all over me."

His fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back sharply as his hips lost their rhythm. Then, without warning, his thumb was withdrawing, his grip shifting from your hair to your chin, wrenching your neck around.

Your eyes widened at the sight, the utter wreckage of him reflected back - flushed and wild-eyed, with his lips glistening and swollen from your earlier kisses. He was the very definition of unhinged, an untamed beast unleashed at last, and you'd never been more turned on in your life.

He kissed you again then, tongue plundering your mouth with a feral intensity that stole the breath from your lungs. You felt him throb and twitch, his moans becoming more frenzied, more broken. Then, with a final, brutal thrust, he was spilling inside you, the molten heat of his cum a brand marking you deep within.

You were barely able to catch your breath before Feitan was pulling out, rolling you onto your back and yanking your thighs over his shoulders. Your vision blurred for a moment, mind utterly uncomprehending, before the realization dawned - Feitan was burying his face between your thighs, his tongue plunging into the depths of your core to lap at the mess he'd left behind.

Sensation overload had you screaming, back bowing off the couch as another violent, full-body tremor ripped through you. Yet he refused to relent, his tongue relentless, his fingers joining the onslaught as they plunged into your abused hole to stroke at your oversensitive walls.

A third gush of liquid coated his fingers, and he was moaning, utterly shameless, against your pussy as he drank from you ravenously. The sound of him, debauched and unhinged, was too much, your nerves already rubbed raw.

You tried to push him away, the sensations too intense, too overwhelming. Yet Feitan simply growled, a muffled warning, his teeth closing on the hood of your clit. A sob wracked you, the overstimulation bordering on exquisite pain.

Then, he was sucking, tongue swirling and teasing and driving you mad. It was all too much, yet you couldn't pull away, couldn't escape the relentless tide he'd unleashed. When he slid a finger into your ass, the coil snapped, a white-hot, blinding rush that had you convulsing and screaming in his hold.

He worked you through the orgasm, his tongue gentling until the aftershocks had faded and you were left utterly wrecked, limbs quivering and mind completely obliterated.

When Feitan finally emerged, licking his lips like a self-satisfied cat, his expression was one of utter, smug satisfaction. You were barely able to form a coherent thought, much less an insult, so instead you settled for glaring at him weakly, trying to channel every ounce of disdain and irritation into your glare.

Feitan simply shrugged, an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. "Don't look at me like that, dear wife. You started this."

You attempted a scathing retort, but only a ragged, garbled sound escaped as you realized the extent of your destruction. The couch was absolutely drenched, rivulets of liquid and cum leaking over the cushions in a vulgar display.

Feitan followed your line of sight, the smirk twisting into a lewd grin. "And to think, we've only just begun."

Before you could even begin to comprehend the implication, he was pulling you to your feet, scooping you over his shoulder in a fireman's hold. The next thing you knew, you were being dropped on the bed, bouncing against the sheets as he stalked after you.

"Now, wife, why don't we continue our honeymoon a bit longer?"

The dim of the Phantom Troupe's hideout greeted you and Feitan like a physical force as you stepped through the threshold. Raucous laughter and jeering whistles erupted the moment you appeared, drawing mortified flushes to both your cheeks.

"Well, well, if it isn't the newlyweds!" Nobunaga's booming voice cut through the catcalls as he swaggered over, a salacious grin splitting his weathered features. "Gotta say, I didn't peg you two for the kinky honeymoon suite types."

"I must admit, your performance was rather...enlightening," Chrollo interjected, the barest hint of a smirk playing across his lips as he leveled you with a weighted look.

You felt your face heat even further at the implication. Feitan shot you a murderous glare, clearly placing the blame squarely on your shoulders for this humiliation.

"You've got to be kidding me," he snarled through gritted teeth as understanding dawned.

"We had cameras installed to monitor your location," Machi confirmed with a longsuffering sigh. "For safety purposes. Though I don't think any of us expected...that level of disclosure."

Uvogin guffawed loudly, slapping his knee. "You mean you weren't hoping for some free live entertainment, Machi?"

The teasing and raucous laughter continued to swell around you as the rest of the Spiders utterly failed to contain their amusement at yours and Feitan's expense. Even the typically unflappable Pakunoda had a glint of mirth dancing in her eyes.

"I can assure you, the footage was quite...comprehensive," Chrollo offered blandly, making no effort to hide his satisfaction at your escalating mortification. "There were no details left to the imagination."

You sputtered incoherently, torn between the urge to burst into flames on the spot and throttling every last one of these voyeuristic savages with your bare hands. Feitan, meanwhile, looked two seconds from detonating entirely.

"You lecherous band of voyeurs!" he exploded, visibly shaking with rage as he whirled to face you. "And you! How did you not notice the goddamn cameras?!"

Seizing the opportunity to redirect even a fraction of the blame, you met his fury head-on.

"How did I not notice?! If you hadn't been too busy eye-fucking me at every turn like a horny mutt, maybe we both would have paid more attention to our surroundings!"

The argument quickly devolved into your typical vicious back-and-forth, insults and profanities flying as the Troupe howled with laughter around you. Eventually, you both stormed off in a cloud of barely restrained violence, hurling threats over your shoulders at the jeering pack of depraved hyenas.

As the sounds of your bickering faded down the corridor, Chrollo's smooth baritone carried after you with a hint of dark amusement.

"Do try and be more discreet next time, you two...unless you're intentionally putting on a show for us."

[petalmadness]

The Last Straw.

Warnings: Angst, breakup, cheating, hurt/no comfort.

Overview: You finally realise your worth and leave him.

Characters: Kaeya, Childe.

Pronouns: No specified pronouns <3

Note: This is for those of you who didn't like the ending to my "Forgetting about you" Scenario. I like this one a lot better as well.

Kaeya:

"Kaeya where the fuck do you think you're going?" You screamed after the man as he made his way to the front door.

"Hopefully far away from you!" He yelled back, slamming the door behind him, the impact shaking the entire house.

You screamed in frustration, knocking over an old picture frame that sat on your kitchen counter.

This pattern that you both had gotten into was toxic, you knew it was, yet you couldn't seem to pull yourself from it. You loved him...right?

Kaeya got into a habit of ditching you and cancelling on your dates. At first you didn't mind, but after a while it got tiring. Constantly having to remind him of important dates and staying up late waiting for him to get home, became exhausting.

Thats when arguments started. Everyday you both would find something to be mad about, he'd leave in a huff to go to the tavern to get drunk. He'd come home early hours in the morning and you'd take care of him, forgiving him oh so easily.

But now you were tired.

When you arrived at the tavern, you heard the usual bustling of all the drunkards in mondstadt. You sighed before pushing open the door, your eyes locking with a pair of familiar blue ones.

Yours widened as you observed the sight in front of you. Your hands fell to your sides as you dropped the bag in your hands. The thump shunned the entire tavern as they all observed the scene in front of them.

"Y/N hold up-" Kaeya scrambled to get the random girl off of his lap, his body sluggish from all the drinks he had.

"Ya know what Alberich, I always knew you a piece of shit, but I had no idea you were this much of a fucking pussy." You spat out, watching him stumble his way over to you.

"Babe come on-" You cut him off.

"Take another step and I will knock your fucking lights out." You put your hand up to warn him, watching him stop immediately and look at you with pleading eyes.

"Y/N come on I'm sorry! Baby, you gotta forgive me." He pleaded, his hands falling to his sides as he struggled to keep his balance steady.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, knowing he wasn't worth your tears. You blinked back the tears and looked up at the bartender behind him.

"Diluc, would you mind walking me back home? I gotta pack my shit up before this prick sobers up." You saw the red head nod, motioning for Charles to take over as he pushed passed his brother.

"Have fun Alberich." You placed a picture in his hands, gently shoving him back when he tried to hold you. The momentum knocked him onto his ass due to how intoxicated he was.

"Thanks for nothing." You glared down at him before leaving with Diluc trailing close behind, shooting a glare at his brother before the door slammed shut.

Kaeya looked down at the picture in his hands and saw that it was a portrait of the two of you, smiling and holding each other.

Kaeya let out sobs, his hands coming up to cover his eyes as the patrons looked down at him with pity.

"You were asking for it Kaeya, its a shock you didn't get kicked to the curb earlier." The nun sipped on her drink, ignoring the pleading cries of the man behind her.

Childe:

You stomped into your home, slamming the door behind you as you shoved your coat off. It was late and you were soaked from the rain as you walked through your empty house.

After getting stood up for the millionth time by your so called "lover", you asked one of his agents to deliver him a not so kind message.

You were sick of being stood up on dates, being left in the middle of some of them just because he was needed for his job, being pushed to the side because he didn't have time and being ignored whenever he was home.

You stared down at the ring that sat on your finger. It was a promise ring that he had given you after your first year together. You cherished the ring more than anything, it was proof of a love that once was.

But now it meant nothing to you.

He meant nothing to you.

You took the ring of and left it on his bedside table, along with the bracelet he gave you.

Violently shoving clothes into your bag, you left not a trace of yourself behind, letting tears fall freely as you made your way to the door.

Looking back into the house one last time, you huffed before slamming the door shut and leaving it all behind.

Once Childe got the news of you leaving, he rushed to finish his work before he made his way home quickly.

He searched the whole house, but only found those two pieces of jewellery you had left behind purposefully for him to find.

His world fell apart as he desperately searched for you, only to come up empty handed.

It was his fault you were gone, and he now had to pay for it.

Note: This is unedited.

[bakusquad-assemble]

The Conference room

Genre: enemies to “lovers”, but they’re both emotionally stunted and don’t know how to express themselves.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x bratty fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ content, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism, degradation, hate sex, Bakugou catching feelings

Word count: 4.7k

Description: Reader is a pro-hero tasked with working with her worst nightmare; Bakugou Katsuki. The two of them have never seen eye to eye, making it impossible to get anything accomplished. But when Bakugou jumps at her from across the table, things take an unexpected turn.

A/N: had an idea and ran with it! I’m a total sucker for enemies to lovers so I had to indulge! While this can be read as a one shot, I also wouldn’t be opposed to making it a series? Lemme know what you guys think! This is my first time writing anything like this, so please be kind.



“God, you’re insufferable, you know that?” You rolled your eyes, falling back into your chair with an exasperated huff. There were a few things that you didn’t enjoy about being a Pro hero, like the long hours and the lack of privacy, but this absolutely took the cake.

Bakugou Katsuki, or Dynamight as he was known to the public, sat in front of you clad in simple business attire with the nastiest scowl plastered on his dumb face. The two of your agencies had found themselves working together due to an influx in connected crime, and it had been the absolute worst thing you had ever experienced. The two of you had never seen eye to eye in the best of times, constantly teasing and bickering whenever you were in each other's presence, but having to work side by side with the explosive hero was like pulling teeth without any numbing agent. The two of you just didn’t mesh well together, constantly fighting for dominance of the situation, and it made for a very tense working environment for everyone involved. You were currently in the middle of coming up with an infiltration plan for a big villain hide-out, and Bakugou kept fighting you at every turn. He shot down every single one of your ideas, but had not yet made one himself. He was infuriating, and you wanted nothing more than to just walk out of the conference room and never speak to him again. You knew that was impossible though. People's lives were at stake and you weren’t selfish enough to let your discomfort affect your hero work.

Bakugou clicked his tongue at you, only adding to your frustration.

“You’re one to fucking talk!” He snarled in your direction, his hands balled into fists on top of the white marble table placed between you two.

“You haven’t come up with one usuable fucking plan all day!” His words were like venom, corroding your patience with every syllable. He had to be joking.

“Do you really have your head shoved so far up your own ass?” You started, the prominent look of detest written on your features.

“If my ideas are such shit, i'd like to see you come up with a better one! Or is that outside your levels of expertise? Does that brain of yours even have a rational mode or is it all just explosions and violence.” You could see his eyebrow twitching in anger at your words, and for some reason that excited you beyond belief. You loved getting under his skin, giving him a taste of his own medicine. It was cathartic in a way, watching him squirm.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” He spat viciously from across the table, his fists banging on the surface like an overgrown toddler throwing a tantrum. This time it was you clicking your tongue.

“I rest my case. I should have known working with you was going to be nothing but hell. Some pro hero you are, can’t even make a simple infiltration plan without throwing a fit.” Bakugou growled loudly, and you couldn’t help but akin his behavior to that of a feral animal.

“Will you shut the fuck up!” He seethed, but you were unfazed. You simply leaned back in your seat with an excited grin, crossing your arms over your chest as you did so. You weren't sure why arguing with the explosive man gave you such a rush of adrenaline, but you needed more. It was as if his words of resentment were a highly addictive drug, and you were itching for your next fix.

“Aww what's wrong, can’t handle a little bit of criticism?” Your confidence rang through the air like gun fire, piercing and tearing at Bakugou's skin. He was heated, you could tell by the way his pale skin flushed and how the faint smell of caramel assaulted your senses as he let off a few pops of his quirk in his fists. If you hadn’t known the man in front of you, perhaps you would have been intimidated by his crude actions, but you knew Bakugou would never lay a hand on you. No matter how heated your arguments got.

This certainly wasn’t the first time you had argued like this, it happened to be a recurring theme for the both of you whenever you were in the same room, but today something felt different. The tension laid heavy between you two, tangible, but it was laced with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint; A warmth pooling in your stomach.

“I said shut the hell up!” He screamed, standing up from his chair in a huff. You had pushed him too far, letting your teasing nature get the better of you as it had been known to do. Yet, instead of dropping it, moving on with your work, you persisted. You poked the bear once more, but this time in a way that surprised even you. You locked eyes with his piercing crimson ones, rising from your chair with formidable authority. Your chin tilting up ever so slightly as you spoke, letting the warmth in your stomach take over.

“Why don’t you come over here and make me, Dynamight”

Bakugou froze, and you couldn’t help but smirk victoriously. You knew the teasing tone would be enough to fluster him, to shut him down and win the argument so you could get back to working in silence. What you weren’t expecting was the way his breath caught in his throat, or the fervent blush that crept up his neck and consumed his features. And you certainly were not expecting the way your face reciprocated immediately upon sight. The palpable tension consuming the two of you, and the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. It was not the feeling of complete and utter disdain that always lingered there, but instead something far worse. The warmth that had been bubbling in your lower abdomen was now yelling at you, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that feeling had always been there, simply lurking under the guise of hatred. Your eyes took in his features with a new glazed expression, subconsciously nibbling at your lower lip as you did so. The way you could see his heart hammer in his chest made you question if he was feeling the same sensation you currently were.

Your mind didn’t have much time to process that thought however, because within an instant Bakugou was throwing himself at you from across the table. His mouth on yours in seconds and his hands gripped at the back of your head to hold you tightly into the kiss, as if trying to relish in a fleeting moment. It was like a shock wave of intensity took over you, throwing all caution to the wind, and you found yourself kissing back with unexpected heat before you even had time to think. He slammed your smaller frame against the cold concrete of the office wall and you couldn't control the small yelp that slipped into his mouth. He had no idea why he was doing this. Why did your words have such an impact on him? Whatever had possessed him in the moment seemed to have taken hold of you as well. He wasn’t expecting you to kiss back with such fervor, in fact, he was fully convinced he was going to earn himself a solid punch to the mouth. But that wasn’t the case, and it made him question if those flirtatious and subtle sexual nuances had always littered your vocabulary, or if it had been a heat of the moment thing for you as well. One thing he knew for certain was that he had always found you enticing. The way you quipped back at him with ease, moving through his words as if you were bullet proof. His insults never penetrating your perfect complexion. And the way you would smirk at him, it was intoxicating. The way you knew just how to get under his skin. He hated it, and even though he’d hate to admit it, he loved it so much more.

His rough and calloused hands kept a firm grip on you, finally getting a chance to enjoy that perfect frame up close and personal. Your hands tangled up in his ash blonde locks, pulling at them roughly and putting space between your mouths so that your lips were just barely hovering above his lower one. Even still he could feel the delicious grin that overtook your features at the involuntary whimper that escaped his lips from the lack of contact. It wasn’t long before he was pulling against you to initiate the kiss again, and you did nothing to stop him, allowing him to dive back in and devour those sweet and supple bruised lips of yours once more. God, how he had always wanted this. He let his pelvis grind into yours, his hand finding its home on your hip to pull you in closer, forcing a moan to creep its way out of your throat. He wasn’t sure what had come over him; repression, pent up sexual tension, pure feral instinct, but he just couldn’t control himself. Especially not when such a lewd and sweet sounding moan cascaded from your lips like that. He had to have you now.

The faint noise of the lock clicking behind him rang in his ears like one of his explosions, and he found his head whipping in this direction of the noise as if expecting to see someone witnessing something they weren’t supposed to. Instead he saw the faint golden glow of your quirk, and upon rounding his eyes back to you, saw everything that he needed to know written on your features. You had locked it over his shoulders using your psychokinetic quirk. He chuckled darkly above your lips, before swooping back in hungrily, taking your actions as a nonverbal cue to continue. You couldn’t get enough of his taste. The sickly-sweet sensation taking over your senses, and by the way he kissed you, you could only guess you were just as intoxicating to him. Your hips moved on their own accord, desperate to feel his hard cock rubbing against you through the slack of his pants, but you could feel the resistance from the blondes firm grip on your hips. You needed more of him, wanted to get rid of this disgusting heat inside of you. You knew he noticed how much you ached for him too, you could sense it in the way his ego grew in his chest with every movement. He was always so perceptive, and you hated that about him. How dare he be able to control you like this. Have this domineering hold around you that you most certainly did not allow in your daily life. You never took his shit. Never put up with his bitching. Yet here you were, horny and writhing in his grasp, desperate for his twitching cock to fill you up.

“What’s the matter, princess?” His husky voice cut through the room. The teasing nickname you detested grating at your senses and finding a new feeling bubbling up deep inside your abdomen. God, you fucking hated him.

“Don’t have anything else to fucking say?” He ground his hips against yours again, eliciting the same noise of wanting to come crashing around the two of you. You tried your best to suppress it this time, not wanting to give him the sheer satisfaction of knowing just how much he had you under his spell right now, but the noise forced its way out as a high pitched whimper. You felt the way his cock twitched against your heat, only adding to your sheer desire. Your head fell back against the wall as you bit harshly at your lip. How could you be so weak for this man that not even ten minutes ago you absolutely despised with everything in your being. He took that as an answer.

“Did I finally find a fucking way to shut you up, dumbass?” He whispered into your ear, the soft wetness overtaking your senses and filling you with pure adrenaline. His hand gripped at the hair on the back of your head like you had done to his only moments before, exposing your neck so that he could trail rough kisses down to your collarbone. Biting and nipping at the soft skin.

“If you want my cock so bad, beg for it. “ It was like a light switch had gone off in your brain at that very moment. You couldn’t let him win, Let him talk to you like this. No matter how much it made your juices pool in your panties like some kind of whore in heat, you couldn’t let him embarrass you like this.

“In your dreams, you fucking pervert.” you spat viciously, a salacious smile biting at your features. Bakugou's head rounded to meet your eyes, an interested smirk over taking his features.

“Huh? What did you say to me?” The venom was tangible, but it did nothing to deter you from spitting back again. This time the smirk on your lips growing into a confident one, even through your ragged pants of need.

“I said...in your fucking dreams. “ putting emphasis on each word He growled into your skin, vibrating your body with his raw and feral rage.

“You fuckin’ brat.”

You knew you had just signed your death warrant but you didn’t care, in fact, it only aroused you more. You needed to feel him inside of you. You needed the release. It was as if the room was spinning and the only thing that was keeping you grounded was the aching between your legs. The desperate need to feel something. You felt his grip grow tighter on you and before you knew it your face was pressed up against the cold wall in an instant. Bakugou's hand laid on the back of your head, gripping at your hair and pushing your face against the concrete, the other tightly locked on your hip, keeping your soaking cunt up against the hard bulge in his pants. You felt your body buck against it subconsciously, sending another shockwave of pleasure pulsing through your body, and his.

“You’re gonna pay for that.” He hissed into your ear. The hand that laid in your hair coiled itself around your neck, squeezing ever so slightly as he brought your head closer to his. You let out a slight gasp, but still a smirk laid ever present on your face.

“Good.”

His free hand made quick work of your soaking panties, pushing them to the side under the hem of your pencil skirt. One of his thick digits slipping against your wet folds before situating itself inside without much warning. Even with just his finger you felt so full. The warmth from his hand radiating inside of you and only aiding in your pleasure. Bakugou couldn’t help the noises that escaped his mouth as he worked your pussy with his fingers. The way your walls clamped around them and left them completely soaked only made his need for you grow.

“God, youre so fucking wet for me.” His breathing was erratic, greedy. He had been overcome with lust that he was barely registering what he was saying. Normally situations like this would absolutely fluster Bakugou, or just straight up never happen. Bakugou was always so focused on his hero work that hookups were few and far between, and certainly never quite this passionate. A quick fuck with no return call and that was it. There was just something about you that made his head spin. You were always a challenge, never backing down no matter how brutal his berating and instead firing back at him with such confidence that it caught him off guard more often than not. Sure, it was so infuriating, but he had a thing for strong women. So everytime you spit back with that ungodly sexy smirk of yours, the fire in Bakugou only grew. He never thought he’d see you like this though, never imagining that he would be able to make that pretty little mouth of yours moan out for him, but he had certainly spent countless nights alone with his hand gripped around himself at the very thought. He quickly added another finger as he pounded them into you, causing you to gasp out in pleasure.

“ Yeah, you like that? You little slut.” You shut your eyes tightly, feeling the embarrassment overtake you as your head nodded against his hand like the greedy slut you were. Normally you would never accept words like that to come out of a man's mouth toward you, but there was just something about the way Bakugou said them that had you reeling with anticipation.

He curled his fingers inside of you, toying with your sensitive spot ever so slightly. Did you really think a simple nod was going to satiate his need for praise? He was going to tease you until he got what he wanted.

“What was that?” He smirked against the skin of your neck, nibbling roughly at the sensitive skin. You felt your body jerk against him, sending his fingers deeper into you. You bit your lip hard to suppress the moan that overtook you.

“Just fuck me already, Katsuki! ” you whimpered, his first name feeling foreign in your mouth. You were growing impatient, and even though your words came out as a command, you knew deep down it was desperation. The embarrassment rampantly flooded through your body, turning you a deep shade of pink, but you pushed through it. You couldn’t keep letting him play with you like you were some toy, you had to take what you wanted any way you could. You needed to cum, and you certainly weren’t going to do it on his fingers, no matter how good they felt. You needed the real thing.

“I can’t take it anymore, just fuck me!” You reluctantly begged, trying to look anywhere but at the man behind you. You could feel the shock rush through Bakugou's body at your words, clearly taken aback for a second at your bluntness and hearing his name spill from your lips like that. A wave of determination flooded through his system. He was going to make you scream his name so everyone in the office could hear it, even from the confines of the soundproof meeting room. He quickly let go of you to fiddle with his belt buckle, but you didn’t dare move to look at him. Instead you found solace in rubbing your thighs together. The friction keeping you high, keeping you blind to what was really happening. To the fact that you had just begged Bakugou Katsuki, the biggest piece of shit you have ever met, to fuck you.

You felt the tip of his cock trace your sweet hole for a second, and you braced yourself for agony. You thought he was going to relentlessly tease you, break you, find some way to have you squirming in his grasp and begging again, but instead the feeling of him bottoming out in you quickly overtook all of your senses. He was surprised he had even lasted this long in the foreplay if he was honest. He needed you, needed to feel the way you felt around him. He had fantasized about this for years, what it would feel like to finally have you in such a compromising position, but he was in no way ready for the sheer bliss your walls brought him. You had him reeling. He grunted aggressively against your skin, not moving inside of you as if to take in this sensation. Who knew when it would happen again, or If it would happen again.

“Fuckkk” he whined, and somehow his words alone had you aching for more. If you thought his finger had you feeling full, it was no match for the size of his cock. You couldn’t help but rock back onto him, rotating your hips in a way that had the both of you moaning.

“Katsuki” His name dripped from your lips again like the words sweetest song. There was something about the way you said his first name that had him teetering on the edge. It was so sweet, like honey trickling down the curves of your lips, begging to be savoured, and like hell he was going to deny himself that sweetness. Even if he knew he would probably never get the chance to taste it again. He wasn’t going to miss this opportunity to pound you into oblivion. He pulled back for a second, his dick sliding out of your entrance and leaving you with a longing and empty feeling after being so full only a second ago. Your eyes widened, about to whimper out in distress at the loss, until the fullness came back to you forcefully. The roughness of his thrust sending your body bumping into the wall in front of you and causing a loud moan to escape your lips. Your hand quickly shot up to your mouth, covering it quickly in the hopes that no one had heard you. You felt Bakugou snicker in your ear, pulling your hand roughly away from its place over your mouth, his hot breath panting heavily onto your skin.

“Let them hear you. Let them hear so they know who you belong to.” He spat out in between thrusts, head clearly spinning from the pure ecstasy you brought him.

“You wish.” you hissed, sending your ass into him to meet his thrusts. Bakugou grit his teeth in pleasure, cursing out under his breath. You were definitely right about that. You were the one person Bakugou knew he would never be able to truly control, but honestly, he didn’t want to. You were a force to be reckoned with, and an absolute powerhouse of a Pro Hero, and he admired you. Just as you did him, in your own little way.

Bakugou brought his open palm down onto your exposed ass with a grin, the pain of his warm hand mixing with the pure ecstasy of his cock and eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, spinning from the sensation. Bakugou found himself groaning with every thrust, unable to force them down. You just felt too good, too addicting, and he needed more; needed to cum. His hand gripped at the back of your hair, pulling your head to the side so that his face was flush up against yours, his mouth inches from your ear. The sound of his erratic breathing and raw grunts of pleasure filled your senses immediately, making the warmth in your stomach bubble with excitement. You weren’t going to last much longer like this.

“Fuck” Your voice came out in a choked whimper, laced with blatant wanton lust.

“Like that, don’t stop.” You commanded, and Bakugou groaned in response. The grip on your hair tightened ever so slightly and you felt his teeth snarl against your ear, nipping at the exposed skin. He could tell you were close by the way your walls clamped around him, making it almost impossible to hold out any longer.

“Yeah” He panted in agreement, his thrusts becoming more unpredictable as he felt himself getting closer to the edge. It didn’t take much before you completely came undone around Bakugou. It was as if your body was floating weightlessly in space, a beautiful expanse of stars and colors blurring your vision, before gravity was quickly pulling you back down to earth abruptly, leaving your legs trembling from the impact.

Your hands subconsciously gripped Bakugou's, savoring in his warmth as you rode out your high around his thrusts, your head spinning with pure ecstasy and adrenaline. Bakugou buried his face into the crook of your neck, as if to hide the flush that had spread across his face from nonexistent eyes. Watching your body tense and shake around him had to be the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen in his life, and that was exactly what sent him over the edge.

“F-Fuck” His voice quivered against your skin and you felt his grip grow tighter on your hips, pulling you back into his pelvis to burry himself deeper within you. If you weren’t currently trembling from your own climax, perhaps you would’ve stopped Bakugou from coating your insides, but in the moment you didn’t seem to care. You felt your walls clamp down around him once more, desperately taking everything in without any fear of the consequences it might hold. Bakugou didn’t pull away from you, instead leaving his body flushed up against yours as the two of you attempted to regain your composure.

The room was silent, aside from the panting that still hung close to your ear. The primal lust that had just engulfed the two of you was quickly replaced with confusion, and the room was suddenly too silent. Bakugou pulled away from you at last, and his warmth that had enveloped you just two seconds ago now completely dissipated. You weren’t sure why, but you missed it immediately. It just felt so right, brought you so much comfort, and that very thought alone scared you. You quickly pulled yourself off the wall and rounded to look at the blonde man behind you as he fixed himself up. His face seemed to mimic yours, and you weren’t sure whether or not that was a good or a bad thing, but for the moment it brought you solace. You let out a shaky sigh before straightening the hem of your skirt against your reddened thighs. You could feel his eyes on you, like lasers burning your skin. You quirked an eyebrow up at him, trying your best to muster a smirk while your fingers worked tirelessly at untangling your hair that Bakugou had made a mess of.

Bakugou felt his voice rise in his throat as his eyes finally met with yours once more, he had so many questions; what was that all about? What does this mean for us? Can I take you out for dinner? but all of those questions died in his throat before they made it to his lips. The shake of your head deterring him from letting them out. You didn’t want him to say something he was going to regret, something stupid you say after the high of an orgasm. You weren’t sure what exactly that would’ve been, but you liked it better this way.

“Don’t, your stupid voice is what got us into this mess in the first place.” You tried your best to keep your voice even, calm, as if none of this had shaken you to your core. As if he wasn’t still lingering inside of you. As if you felt absolutely nothing from that encounter. Just another meaningless hook up, that was all. Or at least that was what you tried to tell yourself. You watched as Bakugou’s eyebrows furrowed, as they did whenever you spoke, but this time it felt off. Laced with something different. It would take you a while to pinpoint that exact feeling, but it would come to you nonetheless. When you were alone in your bed late at night, thinking about the way his eyes glistened, and his body tried to stay steady. Hurt.

You moved towards the tall blonde with a false sense of confidence, though to the unsuspecting eye you never faltered. Your delicate hand moving up to the tall blondes cheek and patting it roughly. The curves of your lips forming into that smirk that Bakugou loved detested so much.

“Leave the planning to me, I don’t really need your help anyway.” Your eyes locked with his for a moment, before you felt the need to break away. To slam the cover shut on those feelings that threatened to spill over the top of Pandora’s box. You sauntered past his form nonchalantly, your hips moving in a hypnotizing form that had Bakugou unable to peel his eyes away.

“Just remember...” You started, turning your head to look at him from over your shoulder.

“Meetings in the conference room are confidential.” And with a wink, you quickly turned the handle of the door and made your exit, needing to get away as quickly as possibly so that you could breathe once again. Bakugou still stood at the center of the room, confused and finally at a loss for words. He had no idea how any of that had just happened, or why he felt a heavy pang in his chest as he watched you leave the room seemingly unfazed. But there was one thing he knew for certain, one thing he was determined to do now more than ever; he was going to make you his.

[rphelperblog]

Klaus Mikealson Quote Rp Meme

[Inspired by @hybriidklaus ]

“You’ve heard of me? Fantastic.”

"What wine goes well with treachery?"

“This family makes me want to murder people.”

"My hatred for you runs so deep it's difficult to pinpoint its origin."

"I believe that secrets are a poison that need to be spat out."

"I've been known to go too far to make a point, but I do always get results."

"Tonight, you shall sleep, and you will dream of a world far better than this one; a world where...all people desire only to be good."

“At the end of the day, human life is just a means to an end.”

“I am the alpha male.”

"Perhaps one day, in a year or even in a century. You’ll turn up at my door and let me show you what the world has to offer.”

"A better man would protect you with that lie. But I am not that man. And so I leave you with the burden of a truth that no one will believe."

“You know, over the years, I've had my share of friends, enemies, lovers, losses, and triumphs. With time, they all begin to run together, but you will find the real moments are vibrant. The rest just fades away. Your pain will fade.”

“A warrior fights for what they believe in. A warrior fights for his family.”

“but in the one moment you two could have chosen to stand by me, you chose to stand against me, to side with my enemies.” 

“You don’t arm yourself after the war has begun.You build your army so big that no one dares pick the fight.” 

“You've said all that needs to be said…I'll play the role I've been given.” 

“It is true you are a minor player, though it only takes one match to burn down acres of forest.” 

“The truth is..it's not love on which the strongest foundations are built. It's the decency of merciful lies.” 

“There is beauty in the courage of the fragile fighter. Those that persevere, despite all they’ve been through, those who still believe there is good in the world, as dark things we often find we need that light the most.” 

“Death offers more peace than you deserve.” 

“You know, it’s funny how often a person’s sharp tongue can end up cutting their own throat.”

“Hatred, a pure and perfect hatred that’s greater now than the day I first took your life.”

“Allow me to entertain you with today’s list of priorities.” 

“Death dances silently in everyone’s shadow, and she doesn’t give a damn. So why give a damn about her?”

“There is not a thing on this earth that will matter enough for me to waste even thirty more seconds of my time.”

“Either way, a new day is coming whether we like it or not. The question is will you control it, or will it control you?”

“What a thing, you know, to have to work that hard every day just to stay alive, to be constantly on the verge of death, and how satisfying every day must be that it survived.” 

“They say the passage of time will heal all wounds, but the greater the loss, the deeper the cut and the more difficult the process to become whole again.” 

“As time moves along we get lost in distractions, act out in frustration, react with aggression, give in to anger, and all the while we plot and plan as we wait to grow stronger, and before we know it, the time passes. We are healed. Ready to begin anew.” 

“There is beauty in the courage of the fragile fighter. Those that persevere, despite all they’ve been through, those who still believe there is good in the world, as dark things we often find we need that light the most.”

“What is done is never undone. It remains within ourselves, A story we tell ourselves so that we know who we are.” 

“In every moment a choice exists. We can cling to the past or embrace the inevitability of change and allow a brighter future to unfold before us. Such an uncertain future may call for even more uncertain allies.”

“You never learned that the bonds of family far outweigh anything else. Such bonds trump petty jealousies, they overcome great feuds, and yes, they even allow one monster to pardon the great sins of another.” 

“You rant and rave about the monster I have become, but you, you are the author of everything I am.”

“There’s no power in love! Mercy makes you weak! Family makes you weak!”

“I have had enough family to last me a lifetime. Why would I possibly want anymore?”

“Anything you felt for him was quite real. And for the record, the level of awkwardness we’re all currently experiencing is entirely genuine.”

“He is your first love. I intend to be your last.”

“If I tell you who I really am and you refuse to believe me then I can hardly be blamed for your disappointment.”

“Seems rather uncivilized to laugh and dance around the body of a loved one.” 

“Every king needs an heir.”

“People quake with fear because I have the power to make them afraid.”

“You’re a piece of work. But, guess what? I’m quite a piece of work myself.”

“One of the tragic consequences of war… innocent bystanders.” 

“This community that you’ve built, you have their respect, their love. I can rule them, but I cannot win them.” 

“A mutual law of nature is the strong always take from the weak.” 

“I knew you were tough. I knew you were cunning. But I never knew you were a queen.” 

"In The End, We're Left Infinitely And Utterly Alone."

"What Do You Want From Me? A Secret Brotherhood Handshake?"

"Painting Is A Metaphor For Control. Every Choice Is Mine. The Canvas...The Color..."

"Don't Underestimate The Allure Of Darkness. Even The Purest Hearts Are Drawn To It."

"That's What Big Brothers Do, Sweetheart!"

"Maybe It's Because I'm Pure Evil, And I Can't Help Myself."

“I don’t need anyone.nor will I be warned by lesser men: I am the thing that lesser men fear.”

“Don’t touch my family.”

“Don’t be fooled ,love. I’m the devil in disguise.”

“hello, love.”

“oh go back to staring at yourself.”

“And for the record, the air of awkwardness were all feeling is completely genuine.”

“I”m struggling to see how this affects me.”

“We evil villians usually use minions to pick up our drycleaning.”

“What a nice normal family gathering.”

“i apologize for the lack of windows.”

“you of all love sick fools should applaud his devotion.”

[bluewhale52]

Little Black Book: The One You Hate (M)

Summary: There are a few names in your Little Black Book, and these seven hold a special place in your heart. Now that you are closing that chapter in your life, you reminisce the time and experience you have had with your seven favourite men, especially with Kim Seokjin, the one you hate.

Pairing: Seokjin x female reader

Rating: Explicit. NO MINORS ALLOWED.

Genre: nonidol!au, strangers to lovers, friends with benefit

WC: 3.9k

Warning: swearing, car blowjob, ass slapping, OC loves going down on Seokjin, sex against a window, sex between coworkers, love-hate relationship between OC and Seokjin (more on OC). I guess that’s about it….

A/N: Many, many, many thanks to @rainbhrts94​ for beta-ing this piece. I was experiencing a burnout and having a hard time putting all my thoughts together, and her reviews and suggestions totally helped getting this fic into its final form. Thank you!!  Also, I’m a total dodo when it comes to Tumblr so with some help from @aroseforyoongi​ and @moccahobi​, I’m reposting this with hope that the link works this time round!

Series Masterlist:  Little Black Book

Kim Seokjin was the bane of your existence. 

The cocky, arrogant IP attorney from the New York office had everyone on your floor in an uproar for weeks. You had seen him making one of the conference rooms his home away from home, with a hoard of lawyers and secretaries going in and out at his beckoning. You were watching them with jealousy. Sure, you were a mere junior in the firm and therefore the lowest in the food chain (just slightly above the interns), but you really wanted to be part of the action. 

Then, somehow, during his  last few days in Seoul, you were picked to help him and his team. Your excitement soon turned sour, as you were constantly on coffee and photocopy duties. How could you prove your worth when you were too busy being worked as Kim Seokjin’s personal server? Why couldn’t he ask one of his groupies? There were plenty of secretaries and PAs throwing themselves at him; you bet one of them would be happy to do this… THIS menial job. It was truly beneath your job description, and you started to simply, truly hate the man.

If that was really the case though, how did you end up in his luxury rental car, bending over towards the driver seat, sucking his cock? How did your mouth end up around his shaft, while your saliva dripped down and coated your fingers around his base? Why were your panties getting wetter with every moan and groan that left his lips? Why did you wish he would just spank your ass instead of tugging your hair? Why, when he came, did you gobble up his seed so greedily and lick him clean? Why did you even feel the need to stick your tongue out to him to show him you had swallowed every single drop?

Seokjin exhaled sharply then looked over at you as he tucked himself back in. “You do this with every visiting attorney?” He leered at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Just the one that pisses me off.”

He chuckled. “I should piss you off more then.”

“Are you going to drive me home or what?”

Seokjin started his car. The engine purred, and you pressed your thighs closer together at the soft vibrations that went through the car. “I promised I’d buy you dinner first, didn’t I?”

You flashed him a saccharine smile. “I had a meal already, thanks.”

Seokjin sniggered as he pulled out of the parking lot. He had offered to drive you home - “the least I can do after all your hard work this week” he had said- and while your little apartment was at the other end of the city from the five-star hotel he was staying, it was indeed the least he could do for you. So when you had settled in his car and buckled your seatbelt, after he had asked if he could buy you dinner, you- in your frustration, because you hated him and you just wanted to go home (god, was that too much to ask)- muttered under your breath on how you would rather suck his dick than have dinner with him. 

You had been taken aback when he broke into a brazen smile, challenging you to eat your own words, and damned if you were going to back down. Deep down, you had wanted to see if this perfect man with the perfect face and the perfect suits tailored around his perfect body (he had legs that went for miles, you hated to admit), also had the perfect dick. 

It turned out that he did, and his perfect dick was perfectly hard when you unzipped him. And so, that was how you went down on Kim Seokjin, giving him a near perfect blowjob, in his car, in the basement parking lot of your firm. (Near perfect because honestly, you could have done a lot more had you had more ample space to move.)

You stole a glance at Seokjin as he drove. His side profile was sharp and too good to be true. Flashes of lights only further highlighted his jaw and cheekbones. You looked away, pouting. 

“I’m flying back tomorrow evening.” He broke the silence. “You gonna miss me?”

You scoffed. “You wish. I’ll finally be able to do real work rather than making you coffee.”

He had the gall to laugh. “I’ll be back in two months. Don’t worry.”

The rest of the drive was quiet. How did you get into this? How could you possibly be so horny for him? Was it your dislike for him that made you like this? You should have known better than blowing him in his car just now. What if he started shooting his mouth off in the office? Or worse, in your personal promised land, THE New York office?

“Seokjin,” you started, “about what happened just now, I’d appreciate it if you keep it to yourself.”

“Of course, I’m not Yuna.”

You tilted your head at the name. Yuna was one of the senior partners’ secretary. “What do you mean?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t know? She’s been telling everyone how good I was in bed.”

“You slept with her?” You couldn’t mask your surprise. “I didn’t hear anything about it. I must’ve been so out of loop with the rumor mills. Wait… Is that why you’ve been asking me to do all that shit? So you don’t have to deal with her?”

“Smart girl.” Seokjin made a turn, stopping just outside your apartment complex. He turned off the engine.

“And here I thought you liked my coffee. And how I photocopied your endless documents.” You said dryly. “Thanks for the ride.”

Seokjin stopped you before you exited his car. “Aren’t you going to invite me to your place?”

You chortled. “Why, you need a goodbye fuck?” You spat it out, but internally, you hoped your playing hard to get was not going to backfire. 

“Hmm,” Seokjin looked out of the car, eyeing your apartment building. “What kind of bedsheets do you have?”

“What do my bedsheets have to do with anything?”

“500 thread count? Or pure linen?” 

You opened the car door and got out. “Bye Seokjin.”

He got out too, walking you to the main entrance. “I’ll buy you some. For next time I’m here. Two months from now.”

You scanned your access card, but he stopped you from opening the door.

“Not gonna kiss me goodnight, sweetheart?”

You turned to him and leaned forward. But instead of kissing him, you stuck your tongue out and licked him, along his jaw, all the way to his ear. You did not miss the shiver that ran through his body when you closed your lips around his earlobe. Smiling smugly,  you opened the door, and as you were about to walk into your safe haven triumphantly, Seokjin slapped your ass. You stilled yourself, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing your reaction. 

“See you in two months, sweetheart.” You heard him chuckle as the door closed behind you.

Kim Seokjin was truly the bane of your existence. 

~~~

He returned to Seoul in two months. You were not keeping track on your calendar, no of course not. You just knew because the commotion was back, as it always was when he stepped into the office. He picked you again to assist his team (Yuna gave you an evil eye for that), and at the end of the work day, when you were filing papers and folders, he slipped a small envelope into your hand. 

“Open it at your desk.” He said in a low whisper. 

You looked at the envelope quizzically before putting it into your pocket. “Is it your credit card? To buy pure linen bed sheets?” You whispered back. 

“Sweetheart, I already bought you a few sets from New York.”

You snorted. Later, when you were back at your desk, you took the envelope out and opened it. You found a note with a gold monogram of Seokjin’s initials at the top. You laughed at the ridiculousness of it. Under his insignia, was a series of digits you assumed to be his mobile number. You saved it in your phone. 

There was something else in the envelope, however. A piece of key card, with the logo of the five-star hotel on one side, and handwritten 4-digit number on the other.  Your eyes widened. Was this an invitation to his hotel room?

You peered out of your cubicle like a meerkat, trying to find where Seokjin was. Then you remembered foolishly you had his number. So you immediately texted him.

– You [18:40] : Seokjin, WTF??? 

– You [18:40] : also, nice stationery

– You [18:40] : it’s me btw

– Seokjin [18:41] : hurry the fuck up. I’ve been waiting for you in my car

You smiled. The time had finally come, you were going to fuck Kim Seokjin.

~~~

You had to admit, high quality bed sheets felt amazing. It hugged your naked body like soft clouds as Seokjin pounded into you relentlessly. His thrusts had caused your body to move, inch by inch, from one end of the bed to the other. You were not complaining though;  the way he rammed himself into you made your breasts bounce back and forth like a pendulum on a string, the feeling was so delicious.

You gripped the edge of the bed as you watched him over you. His usually perfect hair was messy now, his perfect face was void of the usual laser focus expression you normally saw at work and of the arrogant smirk he liked to give you. His broad shoulders and lean torso filled your vision- you had had fun stroking your hands over his pecs, abdomens and biceps. God, you hated how perfectly hot he was. 

You whined pathetically when he plunged his cock and pushed it as deep as he could into you. Seokjin dropped to his elbows, and you welcomed the new weight on top of your body. He stilled, letting his hardness rest inside you. You wrapped your legs around him and could not help but clench around his cock. He groaned against your chest at the sensations. 

“Do that again, sweetheart,” he nibbled and licked your collarbone, “squeeze my cock again.”

You did as he asked, tightening your walls around him before loosening again, repeating the movements and creating your own erotic Kegel exercise around his cock. You could feel Seokjin’s breath faltering on your neck, and before long, you were careening towards your peak.

“Seokjin,” you gasped, “close.”

He remained still, even at your warning. Choosing to work his lips on your neck and up to your ear instead. Finding a spot behind your ear, he licked and nipped at it, sending shudders all over your body and suddenly pushing you to your release. Seokjin held you down as your body shook, willing himself not to come, but the way your pussy walls massaged his cock, it did him in. 

You and Seokjin held each other tight as you both came. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, his hips pressed harder against yours as he shot his seeds inside you. Finally groans and moans gave way to heavy breathing, and as your heart rate slowed down, sanity returned. 

You opened your eyes. “God, don’t do that EVER again.” You slapped his shoulder. “I’m super ticklish there.”

Seokjin hummed, and nipped at the spot again. You yelped, but in the process you also squeezed his flaccid cock, still sheathed fully in you. “Now I know what to do when you talk too much.” He mumbled. 

You tried to wriggle away from his mouth, but the more he teased your spot, the more you moaned, and the more your body became heated again. You were all ready for round two, but your stomach betrayed you, for it growled shamelessly. Seokjin’s eyes widened at the sound, and the two of you burst out laughing.

“OK, I’d better feed you before I fuck you against the window.” He pulled out of you, holding on to the spent condom on his dick. Walking to the bathroom, he gestured to the phone on the bedside table. “Whatever you order, order the same for me.” 

And that was how you spent your first night with Kim Seokjin. Fucked out of your brains and eating room service food in his luxurious hotel room. 

~~~

You gave Seokjin your Saturday nights whenever he was in town, which was only about three to four times a year.. You hated to admit it, but you enjoyed your time with him. It was obvious he liked your company too, and your arrangement worked out well. You both wanted sex with no strings attached. You enjoyed arguing with each other, although it felt like Seokjin lived solely to rile you up to get a reaction out of you. He said he was training you to hold your poker face better; after all, didn’t you want to be a successful attorney like him?

And that was the situation you found yourself in that evening. Seokjin kept prodding at you until your temper snapped, and you roughly pushed him to the chaise in his room. You quickly worked on his jeans and his boxers, pulling them down to his ankles, only to find his cock already hard and weeping with precum.

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Making me angry turns you on so much, huh?” You wrapped your fingers around his shaft, lazily stroking it a few times before squeezing it gently at the base. Seokjin hissed, but his annoying smirk never went away. 

“You can’t shut up your opponents by going down on every one of them,” he teased, his hand reached out to touch your hair but you swatted it away with your free hand, “no matter how sexy you are when you’re angry.”

You scowled as your hand continued stroking him. Keeping your eyes on his, you closed your lips around the head of his cock, your tongue lapping up his precum. Seokjin sucked in a breath. 

“So what should I do then?” You asked before licking up and down his length. Seokjin threw his head back, enjoying the wetness of your tongue on his hot member. 

“Hmmm… “Seokjin moaned. “Learn to control your temper better, sweetheart. You know how our kind is…”

Seokjin took a deep breath. Your tongue was still busy on his cock. It drove you nuts how addicted you were to the taste of him. “… especially to female attorneys..” Seokjin continued.

“Excuse me?!” you sat up straight, but your hand was still around his member, unconsciously squeezing it a little harder than normal.

“Ouch!” Seokjin yelped. “What are you trying to do? Pull my dick off?”

You sniggered, your grip loosened slightly as you continued to stroke him. “Tell me,” he asked, “how did your last case go? You almost lost because the opposing attorney kept throwing jabs at your gender, am I right?”

Your cheeks reddened. “How did you know about that?” you pouted.

“I get regular updates on you, sweetheart, I like to know how my protege is doing.”

You eyed him skeptically. “Wow, I’m so honored.” Your tone was flat, but your hand started pumping his cock faster. You thought back to the moment you nearly lost your temper in court, and you buried the memory deep. You leaned in and started to take Seokjin’s length into your mouth when it suddenly dawned on you.

“Wait,” Seokjin’s cock popped out of your mouth. “Is that why I didn’t get the promotion? I won that case but I didn’t get my promotion because I was too emotional?”

Seokjin groaned, in desire and in frustration. He looked down at you, kneeled between his legs, eyebrows scrunched up, eyes angry, mouth in a pout, and his hardness in the mercy of your hand. He ran a hair through his hair. 

“Now that you recognise the problem, will you solve it?” 

You nodded.

“So can we please continue?” He asked. 

You nodded again before your mouth returned to his cock. You enveloped your lips around the head, sucking it gently and licking it until you heard him moan. You started taking more of him into your mouth, the muskiness of his scent filling your nose. His hands found your head and held it gently, his fingers carding your hair. 

You continued to lubricate him with your saliva, relaxing your mouth and your throat to take all of him in. You steadied your breathing as you sucked in your cheeks, and you slowly pulled out all the way to the tip, before filling your mouth again. “That’s good sweetheart, you know just how I like it.”

You stupidly beamed at his praise, and it encouraged you to pick up your pace, sucking him faster and harder. His breathing was getting heavier, and you massaged his balls, eager for him to cum in your mouth. “No, no,” he pulled your head, and you came up gasping for breath. “I want to be in you now.”

You and Seokjin undressed immediately, and Seokjin went to the bathroom to retrieve a condom. He rolled the rubber as you positioned yourself by the window. The window felt cold on your back, but your core was wet and hot.  Seokjin lifted you up effortlessly, and your legs immediately wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck. 

Seokjin spat into his hand and rubbed his saliva over your cunt. Then the blunt head of his cock was at your entry, and he pushed it in, inch by inch until he was fully inside you. Adjusting his grip, ensuring he got you secured between him and the window, he started to move. Slowly at first, and once your juices were flowing and leaking, he went faster. 

You felt sweat developing on your back, making your body slippery against the glass. You dug your fingers into Seokjin’s shoulders, anchoring yourself up as he continued to pound into you. You turned your head to the side, catching the city skyline in the corner of your eye. 

“God, Seokjin,” you whined wantonly, “When I get that New York position, will you fuck me like this with the New York skyline in the background?”

Seokjin huffed, his hips not missing a beat. “Sweetheart, you’ll never get the New York position.”

You snapped your head back to look at Seokjin, he was still thrusting mercilessly into you. You pulled his hair. “What do you mean I will NEVER get the New York position?”

Seokjin’s smirk was back. He pulled out slowly then he rammed himself back into you hard, making you mewl. “It means…”

He took his time thrusting into you again.

“… you will…”

Another slow and hard thrust.

“… never get…”

He was hitting the sweet spot inside you.

“… the New York position.”

You cried out at his last thrust. “Because I’m too emotional?” you asked breathlessly.

“Because… “ his mouth was inching closer to the sensitive spot on your ear, “we’re closing that office.”

You gasped, at the news and at Seokjin’s sudden change of pace. He was fucking you fast again, pressing your body harder against the window. 

“Wait.. ah, Seokjin… “ you said between pants, “does that mean…”  

You could not finish your question because Seokin began nibbling and sucking your ear, sending your body rigid as the pressure on your cunt was waiting to explode.

“Yeah,” Seokjin panted. “I’ll be back in Seoul for good, sweetheart.”

You threw your head back against the window as Seokjin continued pistoning into you, pushing you towards and over your climax. You wailed in pleasure as the heat enveloped you. He did not let up at the slightest, his hips kept thrusting into you ruthlessly even as you began to sob from the oversensitivity.

Seokjin wrapped his arms around you tightly to move you, and you both collapsed on the bed, his cock still secure in you. He rolled to his back, bringing you on top of him. He slapped your ass. “Can you ride me?”

You pushed yourself up with your arms, your hair curtaining Seokjin’s face. You started to move your hips back and forth as you tried to get your breathing back. The sensitivity in your sex slowly turned into pleasure once again, and you quickened your pace. Seokjin moved his hands to your breasts, squeezing the flesh and flicking the nipples as they swung before him.

“Does… does this mean you’re gonna be my boss?” You asked between moans.

“Do you want me to be your boss?” Seokjin tugged your nipples, causing your back to arch.

“You’ll scold me everyday.”

“And I’ll fuck you every Saturday.” He thrusted up to meet your hips. “You like that?”

“Fuck no…” you felt the heat returning back to your core. “I’ll just hate you even more.”

Seokjin slapped your ass. “Just admit it, sweetheart, I’m your favorite among all your other fuck toys.”

You stammered as Seokjin thrusted up again, and he took the opportunity to pull you down onto his chest. Planting his heels on the bed, he held you down as he started thrusting his hips to plunge his cock into you, fast and hard. You closed your eyes tightly and felt tears slipping down your cheeks as you came closer to your climax.

“Come on sweetheart,” Seokjin whispered in your ears, “give me one more. Milk my cock.”

You cried out as your body jolted and shook. Seokjin kept holding you down, chasing his own release too. His thrusting became more messy, and he finally came too, swearing and groaning loudly.

You stayed still on top of Seokjin, your heart beating out of your chest, and so was his. You both lay on the bed, bodies sticky with sweat, waiting for the haze of your orgasms to pass.

“If you become my boss,” you whispered, “I want no special treatment.”

“Of course not, sweetheart. The only special treatment you get is I feed you after sex.”

You chuckled. “Speaking of…”

Seokjin rolled you over and pulled himself out. “Yeah yeah, order whatever you want.”

~~~

Today

Seokjin walks into your room. You barely glance up, used to him barging in whenever he likes.

“So, Yuna told me there’s a tall drink of water waiting for you in the lobby.” He plopped down on the little settee in your office. “So naturally I went to see. And you’d better get there before Yuna devours him.”

You glance at your watch. It’s ten minutes to 7pm. You smile softly, leave it to your boyfriend to arrive early. “He’s my boyfriend. I told you about him.”

Seokjin ahs. “So, that’s the man who took away my Saturday night fun.”

You glare at him as you tidy up your desk. “Yeah well, he feeds me AND reads me poetry after sex. So, sorry.”

Seokjin stands up as you ready yourself to leave. 

“Besides, now we play Maple Story every Saturday, surely that’s more fun?” You tease him. He chuckles and rubs his chin. He accompanies you walking down the hallway towards the lobby. 

Before you arrive at the glass door separating the inner office from the reception area, you turn to Seokjin and ask, “Do you want to meet him?”

Seokjin thinks for a moment. “Does he know about our history?”

“He knows MY history, but I never share any names with him.” you explain. “He only knows you as my asshole boss.”

“Now I am offended. I thought I was a nice boss!”

“Well, I rant about you too much maybe. But he doesn’t mind, because you know what happens when I get riled up.” You wink. 

Seokjin laughs. “What a lucky bastard. OK, come on, introduce your asshole boss to your boyfriend.”

Published 01022021

[solarwonux]

 timestamp ~ 10:00 ~

w.c: 1.1k

warnings: friends with benefits to lovers, angst, fluff

note: thank you for reading, let me know what you though. Enjoy.xx

drabble game

You waved at your parent’s as they entered the elevator that was conveniently right across the hallway from your front door. Sunwoo chuckled next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist as your mother yelled about how much she loved the dinner he had cooked. Your heart twisted inside as the nature of your relationship with Sunwoo crept slowly in the back of your mind.

Once the doors had closed and you were sure they wouldn’t open again, you removed Sunwoo’s arm from your waist. Feeling the exhaustion of lying to your parents engulf your entire body as you make your way into the living room flopping yourself down letting out a tired sigh.

“I think they have the right to know the truth,” Sunwoo said sneaking up behind you, leaning his body against the back of the couch making you jump.

“That we’re just fucking and actually hate each other.” You scoffed rolling your eyes. The pressure in your head builds up.

“Wrong…I don’t care enough to hate you.” He nonchalantly stated as he made his way around the couch and sat down, propping his feet up on the coffee table. You raised your foot pushing his legs down an enduring whine falling from his lips.

“Somehow that’s worse.” You leaned back rubbing your temples with your index and middle fingers trying to alleviate the pressure.

“So you’re just going to have them think we actually love each other until death do us apart?” He questioned turning his torso to face you. “Because no offense sweetheart the sex is great but I do plan on getting married one day and I don’t really see you in that future.” He sniggered, raising an amused brow as he watched your body tense up.

“I really wish you would just stop talking for once.” You sighed standing up walking past him and to your kitchen. You reached the fridge opening and grabbed a water bottle. You set it against your forehead sighing in relief as the coldness chased your headache away. You turned around only to be met by a concerned Sunwoo as he leaned his back against the counter.

“What’s wrong?” He uncrossed his arms extending one of them for you to take in which you ignored.

“I just have a headache.” You shrugged going to move past him only to be caught by his arm. He reeled you in making you face him. His eyes searching yours, while your breathing tried to stay put.

“Not that. You’ve been acting weird since last night.” He grabbed your water bottle prying from your hands and sat it down on the counter behind him. Then settling his hands on top of your hips carefully.

“It doesn’t matter Sunwoo.” You shook your head, setting your hands on top of his and removing them from your waist. You walked past him and into the living room laying face down on the couch. You took a deep breath, silently wishing you hadn’t realized your overwhelming feelings while he was inside of you last night. Moaning out your name softly as if it were the only name he’d ever want to say. Though you knew his feelings as he had made them clear to you many times before, which is why it had made lying to your parents even harder tonight.

“Do you need anything?” He whispered crouching down so he was at face level with you, his hand finding its way onto your back and started caressing it softly. With so much care that you wanted to scream.

“No, I want to be alone.” You breathed out raising your head and looked at him, your arm reaching behind you and finding his hand causing him to stop his movements. “Please don’t touch me right now.” You whispered and watched nod his head as he hesitated to remove his arm from your body.

“Is it because of what I said earlier…because we can keep this whole fake relationship if you don’t want to tell your parents yet.” He suggested sitting down bringing his knees up to his chest, his gaze finding yours and it sent an overwhelming spark through your body.

“For someone who constantly says they don’t care about me you sure are pretending to do a lot of caring right now.” You spat out bitterly and sat up, trying to retrieve your eyes from his, but always he made it impossible to resist him. Even when he unknowingly had your heart resting in the palm of his delicate hands.

He scoffed, shaking his head smirking down at himself before looking at you again. His face hardening into something you couldn’t decipher. “You would think that by now. You’d be aware of my feelings towards you.”

“I am and they’re nothing. You don’t feel anything for me. I'm just someone to keep your dick wet. I’m like a placeholder until you find the person you truly want to be with.” You rolled your eyes and stood up from the couch. Sunwoo held his leg out to block you from going anywhere. Though seeing as you were standing and he was sitting all you had to do was step over and you’d be free to go anywhere in your shared apartment.

“You’re not.” He spat out, you turned around to face him as he stood up and stalked towards you with too much determination that it terrified you. “My feelings for you are so real that it scares me, I’m scared that I’ve fallen for you and that I continue to do so as the days pass by. But you’re so clueless sometimes that it’s frustrating.” He confessed setting your body ablaze as his words found its way into your veins and stayed put.

“How am I supposed to know you feel this way when you’re constantly putting me down and pushing me aside as if I don’t matter.” You said pushing his chest with your index finger repeatedly.

“I could ask you the same thing angel.” He grabbed your hand lacing his fingers with yours. “Every time I try to pull you closer you retreat from me, do you have any idea how that makes me feel?” His free hand moving up to your face, your lips parting slightly as you tried to catch your breath.

“I-I’m scared you’ll hurt me. That you’ll find someone t-that isn’t scared to fall.” He choked out tightening your hold on his hand.

“Then let me. Let me catch you because frankly angel, there hasn’t been anyone else for a while now, even long before we started sleeping together.” He whispered, cradling your face with his free hand.

“Sunwoo if I do this and you break your promise I’ll cut off your dick in your sleep.” You said seriously, making him shake his head smiling.

“And I’d let you.” He said before kissing your lips softly, deepening the kiss as he felt you respond. He pulled you closer to his body tightening his hold on your hand afraid that if he let go you’d slip through the valley of his fingers for good.

[sunflowersteveslibrary]

❝on edge❞

the mandalorian x fem!reader

summary: Din loves to edge you for days but you can only take so much.

author’s notes: @pinkninja190​ thank you so much for sending this request in!! and happy, happy birthday!! i hope you like it :)

warnings: fluff, swearing, crying, SMUT!!, edging, public sex, vaginal sex [18+ only]

fic m.list // main blog m.list

Maker—you really hated your lover right now. If you clenched your teeth any harder, you were positive they were going to crack. Fuming rage was practically radiating off of you as you sat next to Din.

You were really trying to concentrate on the food that you were eating, scarfing it down so your taste buds could preoccupy your mind. You were so hopelessly trying to ignore the throbbing, the desperate ache that rested between your legs.

The bar that Din had found was quite large; lots of bounty hunters and thieves and anyone in between had taken this spot as a hub. It was quite an interesting place, no one could interfere with anyone else’s business or else they’d get kicked out.

Din had stopped here so the two of you could eat some food and get more supplies before going back to the Razor Crest and heading off to whatever bounty that he got a signal for.

But the reason you were mad?

Ten days. Ten fucking days that Din would leave you high and dry after getting you so close to a release.

And that was the sole reason why you were so utterly frustrated. He had never gone this long without making you cum, and it was driving you up the wall. But he, on the other hand, loved it. He loved watching you squirm and beg and plead. He loved watching you become so vulnerable that you’d do anything for him to get you off.

You took another spoon full of soup, your hands slightly shaking, which did not go unnoticed by the mandalorian that was oh so close to you. Din was fully watching you now, noticing your furrowed eyebrows and crossed legs. He made sure the two of you had a table far away from others, wanting to be as unnoticed and discrete as possible to not draw a lot of attention.

You couldn’t see it, but a smirk made its way to his lips before placing a hand on your thigh. You almost spat out your soup, the ache now fully turning into an ablaze fire of desire.

Your eyes flickered over to his but you saw that he paid no attention to you, checking out the new people that sat at the bar. He could hear as your breath hitched when his thigh moved closer to your tender core, but his eyes were still strained elsewhere.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He didn’t say a word as his fingers ever so slightly moved up again, settling just below your throbbing cunt. You had then gripped his forearm, nails digging into the shiny beskar metal.

So discretely, Din unbuckled your pants, and he watched as your chest heaved up and down—anticipating the cool feeling of his leather gloves. He slid his hands down your pants, circling your clit so gently and light to the touch.

But your body did not care; friction was friction. And you were so sensitive. You snapped your eyes shut as each passing second his fingers would push harder, the leather gloves working wonders on your clothed pussy.

“D-Din, I-”

It did not take you long to build up tension; you had to use your other hand to bite down on your fingers or else you'd make the most feral sounds.

With hooded eyes, you look at Din to see him staring back—watching you so intently. He knew you were soaking wet at this point; it was dripping out of your folds, soaking your panties.

Then you feel everything stop, the coil completely snapping shut—unable to feel any release. He had edged you yet again for what it felt like the hundredth time. He lifted his hand from the table, looking at whatever gadget he had on the table. Honestly, you didn’t care what the fuck he was doing—you just wanted him to fuck the daylights out of you.

You could feel Din’s pride just radiating off of him, his whole demeanor was just raging of his ego. You knew there was a stupid smirk etched across his lips right now. You grit your teeth, hissing out the words before you.

“If you don't fuck me in the next 5 minutes, so help me maker-"

He yanks you up from the table abruptly, quickly reaching into his pocket, and throws money on the table. He then as quickly as possible drags you out of the bar, and back to the ship.

You couldn’t even rest from the running the two of you just did from Din pinning you up against the ship’s wall. You were oh so lucky that the Child was with Kuiil at the moment.

Before you know it, clothes are flying across the room. You were able to get as much of Din’s armor off as possible. You started to plant kisses on his body, your lips landing on his shoulder, chest, forearm, wherever. He forcefully slides your panties down as you squealed with excitement, prompting a slight chuckle from the mandalorian.

His body was pressed flush against you, your desperate heat radiating onto his skin. His now non-clothed hands were roaming your body, feeling every dip and crevasse that your skin provided.

You were already so wet, so frantic and needy. You needed him, and you needed him now. You didn’t are if you sounded pitiful; all you could do was plead.

“Please, Din. Get on with it-”

He then hoisted you up, your legs wrapped around his torso. Your back slammed against the hall again, no doubt leaving a bruise. You yelped as he pounded into you with no warning, the stinging pain mixed with the pleasure of being so full was excruciatingly good.

His cock fills you up to the brink; no matter how many times the two of you had done this you could never quite get used to how big he is. Your back arches against the wall, your melodic moans filling the room.

“Din, please let me cum, I-I please.”

Hearing you plead like that made his cock twitch inside—his moans are suppressed from the speaker but still echoing around the ship. He feels you clench around him, the relentless pounding of his cock. Your folds have completely drenched his cock, quivering as he thrusts into you even harder, even rougher.

“I don’t know if you deserve it, sweet girl.”

You whined loudly, hands clinging to his white undershirt. Your pussy was throbbing hard, pleading for some type of release. You looked through his visor, flashing big doe eyes in hopes of getting what you wanted.

“I-I-”

“What, too cock dumb to beg?”

Maker—he was so goddamn cocky. Normally, you would make some sly remark, but it had been ten days. Ten fucking days of edging you like no tomorrow, so you had honestly didn’t care if you looked stupid. All you wanted was him. A couple of tears had fallen, your mouth agape as you begged as hard as you could.

“Please, Din! Please let me cum, I-I need you. Please, Din, I-I.”

Your eyes had snapped shut from his stilled movements as more tears flowed down your cheeks. Your body had just become so achingly urgent, your hands latched onto his chest again, preparing for him to let go and leave you to your desperation.

“Oh, sweet girl, you’re that frustrated, huh? Was I too hard on you, cyar’ika?”

You could only nod slightly; being so openly full of Din was distracting you to no end. Without warning, Din thrusts deep inside you again, watching as his cock disappears into your pussy. He pulls one of your legs over your shoulder, making sure that the wall was still holding you up.

His cock had stretched you even further, delving deep into that spot over and over and over again. Your screams were loud, shouting his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say. Your pussy was just constantly clenching; his cock was so easily snapping back in and out of your wet core.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Let go, let go all over my cock.”

Immediately, your coil spills over and you come down hard. So fucking hard that Din has to move his hands so you don’t fall onto the floor. Your body had convulsed and pleaded, Din’s eyes had never left yours despite his being shielded from his helmet.

Your high lasted long, Din finding it so fucking hot that he exploded inside you and the two of you moaned, watching as some of his cum spilled out of you.

“Let’s get cleaned up, okay? You did so well, sweet girl.”

He then lifted you, carrying you bridal style as the thumping of his boots echoed into the hallways.

[yumeyooa]

[11:47 PM]—walking through the boundaries of love and hate

—pairing: byun baekhyun x gender neutral! reader; genre: fluff; enemies to lovers au; highschool au; r-13 wc: 668 ; warnings: profanity, detention

At this point in your life, fate was definitely playing with you.

It was dangling you in its flimsy palms as if it were a child, not knowing what to do with a brand new stuffed toy their parents gave them. It squeezed and turned and made your world swirl upside down, throwing challenge after challenge your way.

And the reason you believe this to be true?

It was because of Byun Baekhyun, who was staring right at you. 

"You have got to be kidding me," you spat as you watched in disgust as Baekhyun stumbled into the measly detention room, forced to take a seat beside you as opposed to sitting as far away as possible. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Do you think I want to be here?" He mocks, hoisting his legs up into the desk in front of him. "I would have been at the bar by now doing shit, but here I am forced to take fucking detention because of you."

"Because of me?" You exclaim, offended. "You were the one who started the fight."

"Because you fucking made me!" He spat, glaring at you. "And for what? A cookie?"

"Oh, Shut up, Byun," you sneer, huffing as you lay back on your seat. "That was the last chocolate chip cookie, and practically everyone in this school knows that they belong to me."

"Oh, I apologize, your majesty," he says sarcastically. "I wasn't aware that everyone in your school was bending to your will. As far as I'm concerned, the world doesn't fucking revolve around yo--"

"Will you two please shut up for once?" The teacher exclaimed, lifting her head from the newspaper irritatedly. "Can't we go at least one hour without trying to go for each other's throats? Goodness, you two act more like a married couple than me and my husband."

"Married Couple?!" The two of you exclaim at the same time, baffled. Looking at each other in shock before grimacing and looking back at your teacher, who didn't even bother to take in your response. 

"There's no way I'd ever marry a dickhead like him!" You protest, sighing in frustration. Baekhyun, surprisingly, stays quiet, opting to show an unpleasant glare towards your teacher. 

"Really?" Your teacher asks, smiling as she finally takes a look at the two of you a few moments after silence falls into the room. "That's too bad. And to think this young man over here purchased all the cookies prior so he could give it to you right after."

"I did no such thing!" Baekhyun protests in an instant, and if you didn't know any better, you would have been caught under the impression that he was flustered. Embarrassed even. But that couldn't be, right? He hated your guts, after all.

"Don't you dare lie to me, young man," your teacher says, looking at him sternly from under her glasses. "I've heard the reports from the office, and I've had you in my detention long enough to know that you're the type to bully people you like. Not quite sure why you do it, honestly. that's definitely not going to get you anywhere in the love department…." 

As Baekhyun and your teacher continue to argue, you stare baffled, trying to process what exactly just happened. Byun Baekhyun… liked you? 

What kind of cheesy love story was this?

He couldn't like you. That was just impossible. Byun Baekhyun was the man that made your life in school a living hell, constantly picking a fight with you every chance he got. He was the man who got on your every nerve, the man who actively sought you out just to make fun of you. 

And oddly enough, as you take a peek at his daring eyes, full of passion and mirth as he tries to defend himself. But you see the way his eyes soften just a tad bit, a goofy smile forming on his face, and you realize. 

Maybe, just maybe, you liked him too. 

© yumeyooa 2021. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform aside from a03 and tumblr or by any means is NOT permitted and will be dealt with accordingly.

➢ general taglist (send an ask to be tagged!): @mirakeul​ 

[yuusa]

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝟏

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐𝟓𝟖𝟑

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐞

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝟏:

The loud beeping of the alarm clock went off in the room as your groans followed, your hands slamming the object to the ground before slowly sitting up from your bed. You rubbed your eyes as you tried to adjust to your surroundings, your mind and body wanting nothing but to curl underneath those soft sheets of yours and smother your face in the feathery pillows. You raised your hand to cover your mouth as you yawned and stretched, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed as you slowly walked towards the singular bathroom in the hallway.

You filled up the reusable cup with water before applying the toothpaste onto your brush. With your half-lidded eyes, you carefully started to brush your whitened teeth while staring at the mirror. As you brushed your teeth, you made some mental notes to pick up your journal for school. You had remembered you left it on your desk and wanted to fill it out for the morning. You spat out the minty paste and rinsed your mouth before grabbing a towel to wipe at the remaining droplets of water.

You went back to your room to which your uniform was laid out on the chair with your bag already next to the door. Your room was quite plain, it had mostly white walls with white-colored books neatly stacked against each other on the shelf. You turned to your bed to decide whether or not you wanted to fold the sheets. It was. . . Extremely messy. There were sheets piled on top of each other, the pillows shoved into one corner of the bed, and various loose pens and papers surrounding your “nest”. While the rest of the room was clean, your bed was one of the more unorganized spaces. You only shrugged as you thought to clean it up later when you get home.

Which you probably wouldn’t, but you put effort into thinking about it.

You slowly pulled up the required skirt placed on the chair and began to change into the required uniform. You thought that the high school uniform looked slightly childish for girls but it was something that was unchangeable. You pulled your grey colored sweater over your shirt, the end of the white fabric still peeking out from your outer layer.

Before you left the room to start on your breakfast, you picked up the required journal with its ribbon dangling from the edge. It wasn’t a flashy journal, it had a white hardcover with a golden strip of fabric that separated the new from old pages. You had signed your name at the corner of the book, the characters of your name glimmering underneath the light of your room. As you ate your toasted bread you quickly documented your morning routine onto the papers. Some may have thought of this as a meaningless hobby, but to you, it felt like something more that you could cling onto to give significance to your boring life.

“I hate you! I’ve always hated you!” The sharp impact came across your face in a swift movement. “You’re always in front of me, what have I done wrong?!” She screamed in frustration as her tears flowed down like a waterfall, her movements becoming more frantic by the second as she gripped the edge of your shirt and threw you towards the wooden shrine, the smell of incense burning being inhaled as you struggled to catch your breath.

You slammed your journal shut before silently cleaned up the table and grabbed onto your bag. You had no one to wish goodbye to, nor did you have anyone to tell you welcome home. You tilted your head downwards as you walked towards your school.

Although you faintly remember your middle school reputation of being popular with the boys, you tend to stay within your own closed-off area of the school next to the tree to study. You once thought to yourself that school could have been easier if you had actual friends to make your life exciting. Maybe you wouldn’t have to spend every day eating alone. You pressed your lips together as you frowned. Of course, there wouldn’t be anyone left to be friends with, a lot of them already knew each other from middle school and many of them wanted to stay far away from you, possibly to admire you from afar. With each step you took towards the school, it almost felt as if the world had slowed down for your thoughts.

Your life was lonely.

You slipped onto your indoor shoes and placed your regular ones into the shoe cabinet, your mind still occupied by your own gloomy thoughts as you continued forward to your classroom.

You thought that perhaps there could be someone who would share the same experiences as you, someone as lonely and closed-off as you were, but that would simply be wishful thinking. It was a very selfish thought. You wished not to burden others, but to take on the weight yourself. This train of thought only reminded you of the nightly dreams you have that you write down every morning.

It was about the Great Zodiac Race or Zodiac Legend, you didn’t quite understand why you had consistent dreams of this specific myth, but it was something you thought to be profoundly interesting. Legend says: God told all the animals he was throwing a banquet the next day and to not be late. The rat had decidedly told the cat that the banquet would be the other day as to fool the feline. He would wake up the next morning to find that his dreams of the feast were simply a lie, the mischievous rat had tricked him.

You pondered about the significance of this story. You originally felt pity for the cat, being so easily fooled by the rat, but you had come to the realization that you don’t feel a connection to either of these animals. You wondered if the rat felt as if winning the race was worth it.

After all, when you’re at the top of the world, there is nowhere else to go. You hooked your school bag onto the desk and sat down, pulling out your journal to write a report on your own thoughts. You questioned why an animal such as a bird, perhaps even an eagle, was unable to win the race. They were fast and swift, their talons sharpened and most of all: they were free.

With wings, you could soar through the skies God had walked on. You could flourish in Heaven while the rest scoured the grounds. If you were an eagle. . . Perhaps God could finally look you in the eye and grant you anything you wanted in life. Perhaps. . . The rat would no longer have to feel lonely if someone as great as the eagle could replace his spot. Even if the eagle were to feel alone, it would still settle the dispute between the two animals. You smiled grimly as you doodled a small eagle onto the side of your notes.

You would still feel lonely in end.

You turned your head to the side and noticed the abundance of students flocking into the classroom. You watched as the brown-haired student who you sat next to smiled brightly at her classmates. She had a very friendly appearance and was pretty, but she was a total airhead. You remembered the first time you were assigned seats, she kept dropping her eraser and utensils next to you and would apologize nonstop. It was endearing, but it was very annoying when she had to apologize for simply being near you. You heard that she was extremely close to the Sohma family, you weren’t very interested in her personal life, but it seemed as if the school couldn’t shut up about the news, especially the micro-banged club leader.

You grimace every time she squawks with her annoyingly high pitched voice and micro-bangs. Wherever you went it always seemed as if she was there, constantly cawing over the littlest things the Sohmas’, more specifically Yuki Sohma, been doing. You sighed before noticing the mentioned Prince sitting on the other side of the classroom. You always thought that he seemed to be strangely distant from the class, always trying to smile despite how fake each and every one of them was. You wondered why no one else had caught on to the fact none of his laughs were even remotely genuine. The more you stared at him, you realize that there must have been something different about him. As you faced your head to face the board, you failed to notice the grey-eyed stare you received.

Yuki felt himself be cornered in the library by another unknown female confessing her love to him. He seemed to have lost track of the number of girls who had tried to open their hearts to him, only to be met with closed doors with his own. She poured out her feelings towards him, her tears almost coming out of her eyes as she tried to leap into his arms, only for him to quickly grab her face and halted her movements. She looked up to his grey orbs and felt herself become mesmerized by the sight, burning the memory into her mind as to never forget this glorious moment.

Yuki never understood these girls no matter how hard he tried. He couldn’t understand what they saw within him that would grant him the honor of being someone’s lover. With his girlish face, anyone would assume he was simply a female. He never thought of himself as cool, but as pathetic. He felt as if he went beyond the standard and that itself was enough to believe he isn’t a good match for anyone. He wasn’t cool and tough like his cousin or outgoing like his older brother, he wasn’t extremely wise either. He is, for a lack of words, a lonely person with no sense of self-love. He wanted to bite down on his lip in frustration as he remembers the interactions his cousin had with the other students, the anger he felt when he couldn’t relate to any of the other students enough to make friends. It made him want to curl up into a corner and melt.

“You’re nice, Yuki-kun, but you’re closed off to other people, aren’t you? Everyone says that! Yuki-kun is special! A normal girl isn’t good enough for him!” The young girl ran away and accidentally shoved you as you walked around the corner, causing you to drop your book onto the ground. You winced in pain as you slammed into the bookshelf from the impact.

You clicked your tongue in annoyance and frustration from having to pick up your fallen book. When your hand was about to reach the hardcover, another pale one had already grasped the spine of the book and offered it to you. You lifted your head as you made eye-contact with the grey-haired male, his smile plastered over his face as usual.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, your eyes widening for a few seconds before returning to their normal dull appearance. He noticed the slight glimmer in your irises before you pulled away from him.

“I’m fine.” You took the book from his hand and bowed slightly. You quickly went towards the previous bookshelf that Yuki had found himself trapped in, your mind still occupied by a foreign thought. You closed your eyes with your back turned to him. You didn’t know exactly how to address the situation. Yuki stood behind you awkwardly, he too was speechless in a way.

He gripped onto the sleeve of his left arm, his bangs overshadowing the look in his eyes away from you. He didn’t know what to do in this situation, he had never talked to you outside of classroom duties and even you were closed off. He bit his lip as he struggled to pull himself together. You only frowned before sliding one of the books out of the shelves and turning over to face him.

“I heard. . .” You saw him flinch at the sound of your voice, “about what the girl said.” Your (e/c) eyes met with his as you continued your staring contest.

He looked back at you in shock, his grey orbs widening to the size of saucers as he comprehended your words. In a way, he felt a bit flustered to be caught in this situation, maybe if he was cool like Kyo, he could be more assertive and talk his way through this. His lips wavered and turned into a small frown but you noticed that he was still trying to give you a smile. Yuki decidedly broke off the contest as he stared out the window, lost in his own thoughts and concerns. Your lips curled slightly downwards to a frown as you thought you might have offended him. You should diverge the topic then.

“It reminded me of something,” you absentmindedly peeled open the book to examine the contents of it, “you sort of remind me of the Rat from the Zodiacs.”

You weren’t the best at formulating conversations or articulating thoughts, so this was the best you could even do. You wondered if this was truly the right thing to do. You didn’t notice the look that the boy had given you, you would have to assume that he stared at you in disgust or annoyance when in reality he was merely speechless.

“Sohma-san, do you believe in the idea that the rat may be lonely?” You asked, “because I believe the rat is lonely.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, “what makes you say that? Are you implying that I’m lonely?” He retorted.

You shook your head, “I was just curious.” He pressed his lips together at your response. “I always thought that. . . If the rat never came in first place, do you think he would still be lonely? He wouldn’t have to shoulder the burden of being by God’s side, he could be like the others.”

Yuki leaned against the window, his head against the glass wall as he stared at your figure, “if the rat hadn’t come in first place, who would?”

He seemed to be catching on quickly. You smiled at his question, “the bird.”

“A bird?”

“An eagle.”

Yuki pondered over the meaning of your words. He stared at your expression as you flipped through the many pages of the book.

In a way, an eagle could have won the race, but it was an unrealistic thought. The rat had won, and there was no way to change that fact. He tightened his fists until his knuckles became white like the snow. The rat had won, and there’s no way to change fate. He shut his eyes tightly as he grit his teeth, remembering very clearly his relationship with his cousin.

There was no way to change fate.

“Why do you think the eagle should have won?” He asked, albeit reluctantly.

“They’re the closest you can get to God,” you slid the next page over, “an eagle could fly through the sky and be eye to eye with God. . . They could be equals.”

“But. . .” You closed the book and slowly walked towards the exit, the time spent in the library being already too long, “the eagle. . .” Yuki’s eyes flowed the movement of your figure as you glided your hands across the door frame.

“Could save the rat from his burdens.” You turned to him and gave him a sorrowful smile.

[dabis-girl]

Mine pt.2 | Dabi x Reader | Smut 18+

A/N: its been way too long my loves lets just say I’ve been busy. Anyways this is a follow up to the very first fic I ever published on here. Not sure if this will be come a whole thing but let’s just see where this goes. 

Warnings/ Tags: Dubcon, breeding kink, humiliation ( I think that it but let me know.

Word count: 2.5k 

Summary: After your last encounter you distance yourself from your evil lover and he doesn’t take too kindly to that.  

Read Part One Here

It had been 3 weeks since the last time you had seen Dabi, you had been ignoring his calls and texts. He had gone to far last time usually, you could keep up with his sadistic practices but you had never been okay with being fucking into of a stranger. It appeared that he realized that he had gone too far this time, he had even sent you a gift box filled with lace thongs the replace the one that he had given away. You couldn’t quite place your finger on what upset you the most about that night. What it how he made you into a spectacle or like his property, no one had ever treated you like that.

You tried your best to focus on training and trying to get recruited by a professional hero agency hopefully, you could get pick up as a sidekick. Training had fallen by the wayside after you met Dabi, proving that he was only a distraction. It’s not like he was too supportive of your hero dreams anyway, he always teased you about wanting to be a hero. He didn’t believe that you had it into, not with your weakness being you damned evil lover, there was no way you could hurt him on purpose even if you had to. It wasn’t easy, but you had to put all of that to the back of your mind while you completed your last year at UA.  

It had been so long since you had slept with the window open, you used to leave it open for Dabi to sneak in but you missed the way having a window open made the room less claustrophobic. You had meant to close it before you went to sleep but you have drifted off while watching a movie. You woke up in the middle of the night and the tv was off and the room was pitch black, the moonlight poured through the window reminding you that it needed to closed. It was too late, he was at the edge of the bed staring down at you with a starved look on his face. He had scared you making you retreat to the corner of the bed, he stood over you with a small blue flame sitting atop the palm of his hand. Weeks had passed since he’d slutted you out and completely embarrassed you in front of his colleague, that was the last night you two had seen each other. That night you told him you never wanted to see him again.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls.” He said as he looked down at you with a menacing grin. 

“I told you we have to stop, Dabi. “ You said clutching the blanket off the bed. In that same instant, he’d quickly put out the flame and harshly grasped your face with is rough scarred hand. 

“And why is that? Am I getting in the way of your hero dreams?” He teased keeping a firm grip on your jaw. “I bet you’re dripping right now, thinking about what I’m going to do to you.“ You shake your head and he tightens his grip. “Let me finish little girl.” He growled. “I know what you need, to make this all better.  You need me to drag your slutty ass out into that hallway and make you beg me to fuck you, in front of all of your stupid friends. “ He let out a laugh that scared you but also made you even wetter. “ Am I right?” This humiliation kink that he’d developed was one that you’d never be able to escape.

You knew that you were already wet, your cunt had started drooling the moment you laid eyes on him, it was out of your control. As much as you could try and deny it he knew that you were just as disturbed as he was. You tried your hardest to be opposed to his twisted fantasies, but he had no qualms about shoving his hand down your pants and seeing for himself. This is the reason he constantly taunted you because he knew your protests were empty.  

You didn’t answer and angered him so he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder heading for the door. You kicked and fought him until he finally released you. He gazed at you and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he began to cress your face and leaned in for a kiss, painting his lips on yours. He tased like ash and whiskey, his taste excited you as you leaned into his kiss. Just as he as placed a hand on your lower back you sank your teeth hard enough into his lip to draw blood. He reflexively pinned you to the wall, with a loud thud you could feel my slit silkening beneath him as the bulge in his pants strained against you.

“What the fuck?” He spat through gritted teeth. Licking the blood that oozed from his wound he smiled at you. “Playing hard to get tonight I see.” He chuckled 

“Get off of me.” You didn’t even believe the words as they came out of your mouth. Wiping away your saliva he wasn’t angry like you thought he’d be instead, the look on his face was one of amusement. He liked to chase, and you were playing his favorite game. 

“Tell me I’m wrong and you don’t want me. “ He said as his hand traveled down the length of your torso to your thin cotton underwear to tease your clit. “Come on say the word and I’ll stop.” He teased. You thought that you’d had more willpower than this, not a single word of protest left your mouth instead you soft moans peppered the air. He had instructed you to lay on the bed, you didn’t move. 

 Your hesitance perplexed him, by the point you had usually given in. Alas, here you were standing in the same place that he had left you. His eyes narrowed as you were challenging his authority. He took a stance in front of you and folded his arm across his chest, the ice glare of his turquoise eyes caused goosebumps to erupt over your skin. His patience was wearing thin, you had never seen him this angry at least not at you.

 “What now?’ His voice was flat and gravelly impatiently peering down at you. Your chest heaved as each breath was heavier than the next. 

“I told you that we have to stop Dabi.” You deified your body calling out for him. This performance wasn’t any more convincing than your last. “ Can you leave?” You managed to choke out with almost no conviction.   

 “This again?” He rolled his eyes. “ Fine, we’ll just have to do this the hard way, Doll.” He said just as his hand seized around your neck. “That’s what I thought.” He chuckled as he threw you onto the bed. 

You didn’t fight back, Dabi glared down at you as you laid on the bed with no further protests. He tormented you for being a slut and making him go through all this trouble, he called it a sick fantasy. Dabi was a sadistic lover and it made sense that he would all of this would just feed into the twisted mind. A feeling of unease washed over you as you thought about what you were doing, playing into his perverted delusions. As much as you’d hate to admit it you were just as sick as he was, enjoying yourself like this.      

He was standing over you while you had assumed your position on the bed, eyes pleading with him. He kneeled between your legs removing your panties and for a moment he just stared at your exposed mound in all its slick glory.  He reached out a finger nuzzling it betwixt your folds reveling in what he’d done to you. The twitching of your clit caught his attention, he said that it was if she was dancing for him. He was purposefully ignoring your needy clit,  causing you to thrust your hips towards him causing your throbbing bud to brush ever so slightly against the bridge of his nose. The sudden contact caused your body to shudder, craving more you buck your hips with even more force. Dabi had grown tired of your impatience, he grabbed roughly grabbed at your inner thighs forcefully pushing you back.

 “For someone that was so set on wanting me out of their life, you are acting a bit desperate now, aren’t you?” He taunted. “ I should make you beg for being a defiant little brat, make you submit to me finally. Maybe I’ll take you with me, this hero school is getting to your head.” He ranted still gripping your thighs. Your feral whines were making it hard for him to hold out.  “ Your pleasure is in my hands and I don’t hear any begging” He cupped his hand behind his ear.  You bit your lip in an effort to hold back your moans and pleas, angering him more.  It worked, he was livid, abruptly he let go of your legs and stood. “Fine, I’ll leave.” He said plainly, making his way to the window.

“Please.” You gasped scrambling to the edge of the bed following after him.  “Dabi... please stay.” You said  gripping at his shirt pulling back toward the bed. He looked down at you viciously before shrugging you off. 

“Why should I?” Dabi said coldly, your facial expression dropped at his words.  You pleaded with him apologizing for your actions. “With all the stunts you’ve pulled today you’re lucky I’ve kept my composure.” Dabi ranted, he was frustrated this dynamic was getting old. Tonight was going to be your last night in the dorms and you hadn’t the slightest idea. He began to unbutton his pants freeing his dick, allowing it to spring up and bounce off of his lean torso. The same one that had violated you so sweetly as you were bent over the armrest of a filthy sofa. “Show me your sorry slut.” He commanded.

You reached out and wrapped your fingers around his dick satisfied with the weight of him. Stroking him admiring the bulbous tip, you hungrily licked your lips as you watched a bead of precum dribble out of the tip. You took him into your mouth, he moaned as he watched his length disappear as you sucked him down allowing him to bottom out. In the back of your throat. 

“Fuck.” He moaned, grasping the top of your head as you bobbed up and down around him. He had begun to thrust his hips into your mouth causing you to sputter and drool.  He shoved himself down your throat savagely, wrecking your throat. Finally, he halted his assault letting you up for air admiring the thick string of saliva that connected the two of you. Looking up at him you could see the lust in his eyes, his gaze was it’s most ferocious as swooped you up laying down on your back, knees parted waiting for him to fill you.

He trailed his length over your slit coating his dick in your wetness before teasing at your entrance. It was apparent that things would go differently tonight, it wasn’t normal the way he was acting. Usually, he would devour quickly as he was a very busy man but now he seemed to want to take his time. At last, he sank into you at a devilishly slow-pace you let out a loud yelp as he entered you fully before withdrawing before slamming into you with no mercy. His hands moved to grip your ankles forcing your legs further apart and his thrusts seemed even deeper than before. Dabi was looking you in your eyes while he penetrated you, he watched your face contort as he pummeled into you.  

He withdrew himself from you and flipped you over onto your stomach. Planting his hands on your hips he pulled your ass into the air, you felt his tongue on your clit sucking and slurping up the juices that flowed out of you. Without warning he rammed into roughly once again picking up a vicious pace, he continued to reach around and grab you neck lifting your head off of the bed he adjusted his grip so that his hand grasped your jaw. The arch of you back deepened and Dabi leaned down to plant a kiss on your forehead. It was abnormal for him to show this type of affection during sex but you weren’t opposed in fact you found your pussy clenching around him. Dabi continued to push you off of him, grabbing your hair to align your face with his pelvis he entered your mouth again.

“Look at you.” He gleamed. “You look so good cleaning up your mess.” He brushed his fingers through your hair while he watched you slobber on his dick. Having had enough he pushed you back onto the bed entering you with a primal force. He pushed himself into you repeatedly hitting your spongy core.

“Yes Dabi, please.” You begged for your release knowing that he’d give it to you. At this point, you were out of control writhing beneath him, your hands searched for something to grasp. At first, it was the sheets, but you had managed to pull them completely off the bed and they were now bunched around the bodies of you and your lover. The next attempts were the pillows but Dabi had snatched them away from you so that you’d end up gripping at his wrists. Your release was close and he could tell by the way that pussy was tightening around him. 

“Cum for me Doll. “ Dabi said before he kissed you. Like clockwork, you came undone beneath him. Seconds later he came himself thrusting harder into you to burry his seed, he let out a throaty groan as the walls of your cunt milked him. He’d never came inside of you before, it shocked you especially considering the be knew you weren’t on birth control. You jumped off of him and watched in disbelief as his seed dripped out of you. “Congratulations you’re gonna be a mommy.” He laughed. “Now get your things you’re coming with me.” He said. 

“What do you mean? “ You spoke with confusion. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“You can either come with me now or wait a few months for your stomach to swell and people to start asking questions.” He said as he zipped his pants. “The choice is yours.” He shrugged. He hoped that his plan would work he didn’t know if you were actually pregnant but may you were shocked enough to take his words at face value. 

“You’re right. “ You said defeated. There was no way to pinpoint what you were feeling, the mix of emotions were bittersweet. On one hand, you were leaving behind everything you had worked so hard for, and on the other, you were going to be with the man that you love carrying his child maybe.    

Ultimately you decided that Dabi was too good to give up as if he’d ever let you go anyways. 

[mushyjellybeans]

Captivated 1 (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x college!student!reader (Enemies to Lovers AU)

Summary: You’re studying to become a librarian, you love your life but you despise your brat of a roommate, and the feeling is mutual.

Warnings: Language, Bucky is a jerk, mentions of masturbation, Bucky gets lucky with a girl in his room, kinda smutty but sfw and a smidging of angst?

Word Count: 1,276

A/N: Ahhhh here is part 1/15 of my new WIP series!! It was given to me by @valkyriesryde and she’s been extremely helpful with her visions for this!! I hope I do this series some justice, thank you again babe for giving it to me <3 A/N #2: I just wanna make it clear that Bucky does not have his metal arm in this series.

Masterlist

Sitting snugly on your soft couch with your legs crisscrossed and your notepad resting on one of your legs, jotting down some ideas for your side hobby of fanfiction writing to do later. You had finished an assignment just an hour ago and now you couldn't wait to relax.

And you had to laugh at your luck. Your roommate was also home, sitting beside you slumped on his side of the couch, his left elbow resting on the arm of the couch and his legs swaying back and forth gazing at the TV in front of him and texting someone on his phone. He became bothersome and started flicking the pips from the apple he had just eaten at you, some getting caught in your hair.

"Would you stop that?!" You seethe, tossing a scrunched up piece of paper at your annoying roommate, the paper hitting him on the side of his head.

"Fuckin' make me ya useless shit." He spits back, deliberately swinging his arm so he could knock the pen out of your hand.

"You're the most incredibly irritating person on the fucking planet!" You spat back at him, leaning over to pick up your pen. 

"Ditto babe." he taunted, swaggering over to the refrigerator. You scowled at the pet name opting to not give him the fulfillment of him provoking you as he does daily.

You had to have been the most unfortunate person in the world. You were stuck with having the notorious ladies man known as James 'Bucky' Barnes as your roommate in your two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn.

You would have happily settled for anyone but Bucky, even a person who wouldn't stop chatting would be favorable.

You were a college student and you wanted to become a librarian, and though it seemed easy enough, having these diplomas would help find you work a lot quicker and easier than without. The assignments and other things you had to do was insane but you knew it would be worth it in the end when you secure employment.

Bucky, on the other hand, was kinda lazy and sort of searching for a job. He had no such luck but you were convinced he wasn't actively looking for a job. He was too comfortable in his daily routine; which was often lazing on the couch watching a reality TV show with his hands shoved down the front of his pants. Something you often caught him doing, and he had no shame, he would continue pleasuring himself in front of you, and it disgusted you since he would intentionally touch you in some way with the same hand. 

As you probably guessed right now, you and Bucky did not get along. You detested each other. You had lost count how many arguments you had in a week, though your fights never turned physical, Bucky would never dream of hitting you physically, instead, he chose to hurt you mentally. You shouldn't be living together but neither of you was willing to move out.

"Who are ya writing about anyway? Some other poor bastard a fuckin' pathetic loser like you have no chance of getting?" Bucky snorted, pouring himself a drink on the kitchen island.

And this is what you meant with 'he chose to do it mentally', constantly reminding you of how worthless and useless you were to the world.

With a huff, you slammed your notebook shut and stood up. Flipping him off and going to your bedroom, before you shut your door you heard him bark out an obnoxious laugh, with a tut you slam the door harder than intended, shaking the doorframe slightly.

"Stop banging the fuckin' doors!" Bucky yells as you hear a glass of something being slammed down on a table in the living room.

Bucky slumped back down on the couch after you had left. A knock echoed through the apartment. 

"She chose a fuckin' good time to leave." he murmured under his breath, swinging the door open and there stood Dolores. 

"Hey there babe." he grinned, inviting her in for a warm hug. “Hey Bucky!” The lights bounced off her perfect white teeth. Bucky grinned, taking her hand in his and leading her to his bedroom. He had the perfect plan up his sleeve.

You chose to ignore the sounds in the living room and turned on your fairy lights that are dangling on the wall above your bed creating a warm cozy feeling, propping some cushions behind you and taking your phone off charge, dialing in your best friend's number. He picks up after a few rings.

"Hey, you!" He cheerfully says through the phone, a smile lighting up your dispirited mood.

"Hey, Sam! How's it going?" The two of you were close, like brother and sister. He understood your predicament with your roommate and he honestly never liked the guy either.

You and Sam would talk for hours, you're currently helping him get the girl of his dreams. He's been crushing on a girl in your class - Katherine - you think her name is, but Sam is shy and enlisted you to help him. It was a good distraction until you started hearing loud moans coming from Bucky's bedroom. 

"Oh, fucking great." you cursed out loud, banging your head against your wooden headboard. 

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, snapping out of his daydream of Katherine.

"My dumbass roommate is getting laid." 

You hear Sam laugh through the phone. "Just put some headphones on with some music, you're gonna be alright Y/N!" Sam continues laughing, knowing full well you haven't had a boyfriend in forever. 

You decide to take Sam's advice and hang up the phone. The moans getting louder and you believe Bucky is doing it on purpose. You also believe he's intentionally banging his bed against your wall to get a heated rise out of you. 

With a groan you put your headphones on and shuffle your playlist, turning it up on full volume, but even with the headphones you could still hear every little thing that was happening on the other side. You groaned in frustration, ripping your headphones out and instead sandwiching yourself between your pillows.

Bucky’s plan worked perfectly. The walls were thin and he could hear your continous groans on the other side, it only encouraged him further, biting down on Dolores neck to make her scream out in ectasy.

The next morning was quiet as you walked out of your bedroom in your robe, noticing the lack of appearance from your roommate immediately. He isn't seated where he normally is at this time of the morning.

You did hear Dolores and Bucky leave the apartment late last night after their 3 hour-long bedroom activities but even so, he was always back the next morning, and no matter how much he hated you, he did always prepare your favorite cereals.

"Bucky?" You called out, silently hoping he wasn’t here but also hoping he was, listening intently to any sounds of the mysteriously vanished roommate.

Your phone started to buzz in your robe pocket, you pulled it out and looked at the unknown number suspiciously.

"Hello?"

"Oh hi, is this Y/N Y/L/N?" A woman's voice asked on the other end. The fact she said your full name made you on edge.

"Uhh yeah, this is she. Who is this?" You take a seat on the chair behind you.

"I'm doctor Romanoff and I have a James Barnes in my ward. You were his emergency contact. I'm afraid to inform you, Miss, that Mr. Barnes was involved in a minor road traffic accident. He has broken his left arm and a couple of his ribs is broken. If you are visiting him I would be happy to go over everything else with you too."

You were too shocked to speak. So many things said at once, why were you, the one person Bucky couldn't stand breathing the same air around, was his emergency contact?

"Miss? Hello?" Doctor Romanoff spoke on the other end.

You cleared your throat before speaking.

"Uhhh.." Just as you started to speak, you heard a blood-curdling scream in the background. Doctor Romanoff quickly excused herself and hung up.

The call ended and you stared out in front of you. It was no question you had to go and see him.

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[ochard-fics]

Bad Ideas - A Spider-man Story

Chapter Index: 1, 2

Pronouns used: they/them

Genre: Enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, fluff, young love

Warnings: None

Word count: 6.5k+

Summary: Though you moved across the country about half a year ago, you are still trying to find your footing in the strange streets of New York. On top of that, you are desperately trying to balance your demanding school life at Midtown School of Science and Technology, where you like everyone but you was much more talented and smarter than you could ever imagine to be. Among those students is the one whom you loathe the most: Peter Benjamin Parker, the boy who’s success both in school and in Stark Industries is constantly shoved in your face. The only person who helps you escape those troubles is Spider-man, the hero of Queens and your crush.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this! Likes, retweets, and feedback is appreciated~

-----

Chapter 1 - Spider-man’s Sandwich Seller

When your mom excitedly told you that you’d start attending Midtown School of Science and Technology (MSST for short) in August you didn’t think much about it. As far as you knew, it was probably like any other public high school in America that was located in a “nice” part of a major city in America. Yet again you’d spent the last 16 years in Southern California, so your knowledge of schools outside of the area was very limited. Still, you felt no joy or resentment of the idea of being an MSST student. You assumed the title of “Science and Technology” was just to play it up as something cool. 

But oh boy, how wrong you were.

It’s been four months into your junior year at MSST and you learned the hard way that the “Science and Technology” part of the school’s title was not played up for show. If the school was a cell, it’s STEM* program was the mitochondria of the institution. Everyone around you was excelling somewhere within the programs’ four disciplines, and you could not escape it’s presence no matter what. You would think that your mom would have warned you about this before she enrolled you, someone who was not savvy in the STEM disciplines AT ALL, into this foreign environment.

It had been a couple of weeks since the new semester of junior year started back up and here you were, trapped within the cold walls of the chemistry lab, staring down at your second quiz of the new semester. A pop quiz, no less. One of your worst enemy.

You glanced up at the clock to see how much time you had left. Three minutes. Crap. The first three questions on chemical bonds had you stuck, and you could feel your brain reach its thinking capacity. 

Looking over the questions again, you went over your work to see if you had done something wrong. However, you weren’t even sure if the work you were doing was correct. Furrowing your brows, you desperately tried to remember something from your lecture that could make sense of this equation, but the anxiety only left your brain cloudy. 

The loud ring of the school bell snapped you out of your thoughts and made you jump in shock, earning you a surprised look from your deskmate, MJ. 

“You okay?” She asked, a brow raised by your sudden movement.

“I…” You sputtered, feeling your face flush in embarrassment, and looked down at your quiz to avoid eye contact with her. A heavy and defeated sigh left your body, as you immediately accepted your failure on this exam. “Yeah, the bell just startled me,” you replied, giving her a weak smile. She furrowed her brows at you, but luckily she decided not to press further. 

The sound of zippers being pulled and the excited chatter of students almost drowned Mr. Cobwell’s request to hand him the quizzes as they exited the class. MJ went ahead of you as you begrudgingly shoved your pencil pack into your backpack and slung the red canvas sack over your shoulder. Guilt and shame began to press upon your chest as you walked up to Mr. Cobwell, who was trying to organize the load of papers in his arms. He notices your hunched figure as you approached, and his expression turns to that of concern. Averting your gaze from him, you hand over your barely done quiz, to which Mr. Cobwell gazes over it in dismay. He lets out a disappointed sigh, making the pressure on your chest worse. 

“(Y/N),” He begins, shaking his head, “We’re half-way into the school year, this is really troubling.” Your eyes look down at your black and white canvas shoes, the embarrassment making it difficult to make eye contact with your superior. Cobwell waits for a response from you, but seems to notice your current emotions so he continues.

“You know, if you are struggling with the lessons, you can always tell me,” he says in a concerned voice, “I understand that chemistry is a very difficult subject for those who struggle with subjects like math. After class you can ask me questions about the lesson if you don’t feel comfortable doing that during the lesson.”

For some reason Cobwell’s genuine concern made you feel even more guilty. What teacher would want to waste time explaining everything to a student who didn’t even understand in the first place? Wouldn’t he think you’re dumb for not getting it? And what if you still needed him to explain because you just couldn’t get it? Wouldn’t he get frustrated and snap at you? You looked up for a moment to meet eyes with Mr. Cobwell, who was waiting for your response. Instead, you headed towards the door, head hung low, and wished him a good evening.

Squeezing through the school of teenagers flooding the hallway, you catch up to MJ, who was leaning by the club bulletin watching the crowd. You called out for her and she turned toward you, giving you a small ‘Sup with her head and leaned off of the walls as you approached her.

“Hey,” she said, nodding her head towards the chemistry classroom, “Everything good?” The last thing you wanted was to bring down the mood to your only friend at MSST, so you shrugged and replied, “Yeah, it was just about the quiz.”

MJ furrowed her brows in concern, saying, “You know, if you need any help, I’m down to do it.” Great, more guilt came from those words. You know MJ meant well, but you couldn’t help the feeling make home in your heart. 

“It’s fine, MJ,” you replied, gently shooting down her offer, “Really. You’re already busy with the academic decathlon and art club. Those are more important.” MJ gives you a look, one of ‘Are you sure?’. 

She lets out a short defeated sigh and shrugs, replying, “Whatever, it’s your life. Let’s just get to your locker already.” You nod and begin walking with her against the current of students. Four months ago you didn’t really think that your short interaction with MJ would lead you to being pals with her, yet here you both are. Granted, you both were similar in several ways. For one, both of you were the more introverted type, and tended to dress how you liked rather than how others expected you to dress. Both of you were pursuing artists, both having joined the new and improved art club at MSST. Plus, you both liked things that most would consider to be a bit eccentric, such as morbid things like true crime or controversial stuff like surrealist art and history. Flash Thompson, the residential rich idiot of MSST, liked to call the both of you freaks. Though MJ would usually be able to shut his ass up with a comeback that made Thompson look like a dumbass.

However, a friendship wouldn’t be such if there weren’t any differences between the two, and you both had quite striking ones. While MJ tended to be much more blunt, you tended to keep your feelings to yourself. She was also much more observant than you could ever be, since you are more intuitive, though you thought that was mostly your anxiety. Additionally, you tended to be a bit more hot-headed, which has gotten you in a few verbal spats with Flash. The most obvious difference between the two of you, was that MJ was incredibly smart, while you...well, you already know where you were several lacking in the academic intelligence department.

It’s funny, neither you nor MJ verbally agreed to be friends. Both of you just naturally gravitated towards the other whenever you were around each other. MJ insists that she’s a lone wolf, but she considers you her friend, and you the same with her.

The two of you headed towards your locker, where you noticed it was being blocked but a familiar lanky figure in a blue MSST zipper hoodie. Disgruntled, you paced faster toward the figure until you were behind it. The person leaning hadn’t noticed you yet since their back was facing toward you, so to your (and MJ’s) amusement you thought about slamming your hand on the locker next to yours to give the pasty blockade a scare. However, just as you were about to reel your hand in, the figure turns around and faces you.

“Oh! (Y/N)!” Peter Parker, the golden loser as you like to call him, chimes with a crack. You groaned mentally. Damn it, of all the people you wanted to see right now he had to be here.

Let’s get one thing perfectly clear: you despised, no, loathed Peter Benjamin Parker. He was in the same grade as you, and was, unfortunately, in all of your classes. The guy was infamous in MSST for having scored an internship at Stark Industries, where your dad currently works and the main reason you moved from Los Angeles to Queens in the first place. Admittingly, he was incredibly gifted. He, along with MJ and a handful of other students in MSST, was one of the top students at the school. Whenever you watched him in class, you could see how easily everything came to him. He just...got it.

And you hated him for it.

Parker leans off your locker quickly and steps aside, motioning you towards it.

“S-sorry! I didn’t mean to block your way!” he stutters, something he tended to do frequently. You said nothing and gave him an emotionless eyebrow raise, then looked over to see Ned Leeds, who looked like he was trying to hold laughing at his friend’s awkward expression. He was your locker neighbor and Peter Parker’s best friend, so unfortunately you would see Parker too often. You didn’t necessarily mind him, he’s a well-meaning guy, but at times you did find him pretty annoying. 

You rolled your eyes at the boys and opened your locker, shoving your Chemistry textbook into it like it was a ragdoll. If it didn’t cost $150 you would’ve loved to lunge it across the halls instead (where it could possibly hit Flash Thompson in the head), but you knew that probably would’ve given you a temporary high of satisfaction. The boys look at you surprised but resume their previous conversation, which seemed to be about a Lord of the Rings lego set. MJ gives her signature judgemental look and, noticing your aggressive behavior, attempts to make you feel better.

“Hey,” she began as you unzipped your backpack and shuffled through the contents inside, “There’s a new episode of the Left for Dead podcast out today. You want to get paletas** and take a listen?”

“I can’t today,” you replied, not looking at MJ and you traded books to and from your locker, “I asked Delmar to give me more hours so I’m going to do part-time on Monday now.” MJ clicks her tongue in disappointment, but shrugs the decline off.

“Dang that sucks,” she says in her monotone voice, “This episode was supposed to be about Black Dahlia, too.” You were disappointed too, so you turned to her.

“We can listen to it over Zoom when I get home,” you assured her, “I’ll be back by 8.”

“Hey MJ!” Ned called out, catching the attention of both you and your friend, “If you’re free, Pete and I were thinking of going to Shawarma Palace right now! Care to join?” MJ declines the offer, saying that she’s just going to go home. Before she heads out, she bids you and the boys a farewell. You then watched as she turned around and walked towards the school entrance, disappearing into the sea of students. 

Listening to the new podcast sounds much more fun than work, you thought sadly to yourself. A sad sigh left your body, which caught the attention of Parker. 

“Hey (Y/N),” he started, “Are...you okay?” Despite the genuine concern coming from his tone, you felt your fight responses kick it.

“Why do you care?” you ask spitefully, shooting a look at him. The brunette is taken aback by your response, and so was Ned.

“I-I-I just…” Parker stammers, fiddling with his hands nervously, “I saw you talking to Cobwell and you looked pretty upset.” For some reason, this sets you off. Angry, you slam your locker shut, alarming the boys and everyone else around you three. 

“Mind your own damn business, Parker.” You say bitterly, giving the already shocked boy an intense glare. Looking at him was only making you more angry, so you slung your red canvas backpack over your shoulder and turned your heel towards the school entrance, leaving Parker and Leeds to wonder what in the hell just happened.

-

It has been three hours into your shift at Delmar’s Deli and Grill, you tried to keep yourself busy in order to beat the feeling of anger that had lingered on you ever since you left school. Even the soundtracks of your surroundings like the small hum of the heater, the blissful purrs of Murph the bodega cat, the occasion honks from the cars outside, and the every-so-often flipping of pages from the paper Delmar was reading couldn’t distract you from your annoyance towards Parker. 

Damn Parker, thinks he could eavesdrop into my personal life, you bitterly thought, aggressively sweeping at the murky tiled floors of the bodega, I’ll kick his ass if I ever catch him-

The small television above the newspaper racks interrupted your internal monologue. You looked up from sweeping to see it playing today’s news. Delmar and you listened in to the report:

“...was hospitalized. According to Queens police, they believe that the attackers are purposely targeting small businesses as this is the fourth one to be robbed these past two weeks,” You watched the pristine-looking woman with a sculpted hairstyle announce as footage was being shown beside her, “From security footage it can be determined that the attackers are a duo, both male, about five foot eight...”

“Jeez, I just reopened this place too,” you heard Delmar grumble, who was looking up at the TV, “Why can’t they rob a Whole Foods or something? Assholes like them, taking advantage of the working man...you must be rotten to go after family businesses. Isn’t Spider-man going to do anything about this?”

“Local police have reported that Spider-man has been informed of the current situation and will be looking into the robberies,” the reporter answered, “For now, authorities are asking that store-owners remain alert and take extra measures to secure their businesses.” Delmar let out a disgruntled grunt and turned to look at you.

“Hey kid,” he called, and you turned to look at him, “Can you keep a look out for customers? I need to make a call to the chips suppliers in the back.”

“Yes sir,” you replied with a nod, “Wait, what if they ask for cigarettes?”

“Give me a shout to ring them up, then.” He called back, already descending to the back of the store. A small huff left your body and you shoved the collected dirt from the floor into the streets of Queens. The skyline began to darken as the sun set, and you watched as the sky looked like a rainbow sorbet. Memories of late night drives with your older friends in California emerged from your memory, where you would sleep in the car to watch the sunset dip into the Pacific ocean waters. Even though you were on the other side of the country, the sunsets were still the same. Yet, for some reason, this one didn’t feel as homey as the ones back in California did.

Suddenly, a figure in a red mask covers your line of sight, and it makes you stumble back while letting out an embarrassing yelp.

“HEY THERE!” the red and blue clad figure announces excitingly, hanging upside down from the store’s awning, “Oh shoot! S-sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” Once you recognized who it was, your lips broke out into a smile. Finally, someone you actually wanted to see today. 

“Well, you did,” You said with a cheeky grin, “I thought you only sneak up on criminals, Spider-Man.”

“H-hey, I said I’m sorry,” he said apologetically, coming down right-side up, “I just thought you would’ve enjoyed it.”

“I’m messing with you,” You replied with a playful punch to his arm, “But next time, maybe a heads up before you greet someone bat-style. Do that to Delmar and the dude might get a heart attack.”

“Will do,” he replied, then looked over your shoulder, “Hey, where’s Delmar?”

“Out back making a call to a supplier,” You replied, ushering him inside the bodega, “You want a number five? Pickles and smushed really flat, right?”

“O-oh! Actually,I already had dinner,” Spider-man replied, his angular white lenses widening in surprise by your offer.

“Really?” You said, shrugging your shoulders, “You usually get that during this time. Are you cheating on Delmar’s place?”

“I could never!” He said motioning his arms into an x-sign, “If I ever betray the best sandwich shop in the world then throw me into jail.”

“I’ll remember that when I have to testify in court,” you teased, making your way to the counter. Murph, Delmar’s cat, sat next to the cashier upon his favorite cushion, purring loudly as the two approached him.

“Heya Murph!” Spider-man said, scratching behind the feline’s ears, “You doing good? Keeping Spider-man’s sandwich seller company?”

“Is that what you call me?” You asked, an amused smile spreading across your face, “I feel pretty honored by that title.” The masked hero of Queens let out a chuckle, and somehow hearing it made your ears turn pink. Then, a thought came to you that you expressed out loud.

“You know,” you began, still watching Spider-man give Murph some butt scratches, “You have the exact same order as someone I know.”

“R-really?” Spider-man stammered, retreating his hand from Murph in surprise. You looked at him, brows raised, “Aha...who is it?”

“Peter Parker,” You replied, deciding to rearrange the misplaced chips from the rack beside the counter, “‘Goes to my school.”

“Y-yeah, I remember you mentioning him a few times,” He said, his voice raising, which you noticed he does when he gets nervous, “He’s the one you don’t like?”

“Right,” You replied, not looking up from the rack, “Is it true that he works at Stark Industries?”

“Yeah, yeah! Of course he does!,” He replied, his voice going higher and cracking, “W-why do you ask?” He began to fiddle with his hands anxiously.

“Well,” You started, brushing your hands on your forest green apron, “My dad works there, but he never sees him.” Your dad was the head of International Affairs at Stark Industries. He mainly handled communication between Stark and companies they were planning on selling to. You didn’t know much about his job and you didn’t plan on it. You blamed the job from taking you away from your home, and your dad...well, you already had a complicated relationship with him. The move just made it much worse. 

“R-really? Isn’t that weird,” Spider-man replies, rubbing his hand behind his neck, “W-well, I--Peter, doesn’t work with International Affairs. He works more with superhero stuff.”

“Like what?” You asked him, somewhat intrigued. You knew you were never going to find out from Peter personally, so might as well get the inside scoop from Spider-man himself.

“U-um…” His aperture-like eyes shift narrowly, seemingly unable to answer your question. Before you could press him further, you heard Delmar call out from the back of the store

“Hey kid! Your shift’s over!” Your Dominican boss announced. You look over to the counter to see him emerge from the back of the store.

“Best you go now since the streets are-” Delmar notices who is beside you and his eyes light up with glee. 

“Ey, Hombre Araña!” Delmar exclaimed, smiling like he’s seeing an old friend, “Are you here for your usual? It’s on the house!”

“Hey Delmar,” Spider-man replies as he turns to him, waving to him, “N-no thanks, I just ate.”

“Hey, you better not cheat on me with Sub Heaven,” the middle-aged man jokes, waving his index finger at him, “I would know if you are.”

“Hey don’t worry, I’m loyal!” Spider-man replies with a laugh. Delmar chuckles then looks over to you, where you were looking at your favorite hero with a smile. He then turns back to look at Spider-man.

“Hey Spider-man,” He began, “Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Y-yeah?” the hero says, straightening himself up, “What’s up?”

“Can you give the kid a walk to the bus stop?” He asked, motioning his head towards you“It’s getting dark and with the recent news, I want to make sure they get to their stop safely.” You shot your head at Delmar, your smile falling as your eyes widened in shock. “D-Delmar! I-it’s fine!” You began, waving your hands frantically, “It’s just a ten minute walk to the stop-”

“Of course!” He replied almost too keenly, interrupting you,”I-I’d love to!” You looked back at Spider-man, surprised. Was he saying that just to be polite? You thought as your blush began creeping down to your cheeks.

Delmar gave him a hearty thanks and motioned you to come to the back to clock out. You did so in a haste, your thoughts going into key mash mode. This wasn’t the first time you’ve ever been alone with him---you’ve had several run-ins with the masked hero. Any person who was enamored by superheroes would be stoked to have him be their walking buddy.

However, he wasn’t just any superhero. To you, Spider-man meant so much more. This may or may not have something to do with you having a major crush on him ever since you met him in the summer of last year. After almost five months of seeing him practically weekly, you liked the feeling that you knew Spider-man. Yet, you were still unaware of who was behind the mask. With your crush developing harder and harder, the curiosity began to nip at you aggressively. 

You clocked out from work and hung up your apron, then wished Delmar and Murph a buenas noches, as you headed towards the deli’s entrance door. You slung your backpack over your shoulders and noticed that Spider-man was waiting in the front of the store, waving hello to an excited child passing by across from the bodega. You brushed some of Murph’s cat hair off of you (your dad would throw a fit if he found cat hair in the house again) and straightened up, mentally calming yourself. You practically skipped up to Spider-man and told him that you were ready to go. He turns to you and gives you an eye (lense?) smile, and you two begin your way towards your stop.

During the first couple of minutes into the walk, you were in an argument with your thoughts on what you should talk about with Spider-man. It would’ve killed you if this ten minute walk was in silence! Thankfully, he began speaking.

“So,” He started, “Anything exciting happened to you today?” This. You thought, but obviously you would sucker punch yourself in the face if you said that out loud. 

“Eh, not much,” you responded with a shrug, “Had a chemistry quiz today.”

“How’d it go?” he asked as he looked out, resting the back of his head atop his hands.

“Wonderfully,” you said sarcastically, looking down at your shoes, “Only completed three questions out of the ten on the quiz. At this rate I’m going to be the top student!” He looked over at you, watching as you kicked a piece of gravel with your foot. You let out a sad sigh.

“It’s my fault,” you continued, “I should’ve studied harder. But I just get so overwhelmed by the material I freak out and then when I freak out I get anxious and then when I get anxious I just can’t focus and when I can’t focus I don’t study!” You exhaled.

“Whoa, whoa, easy,” Spider-man says, motioning you to calm down, “Why don’t you ask someone for help on the subject? Like your teacher or a tutor?” You let out a dry laugh, remembering what Mr. Cobwell had said earlier. 

“No teacher wants to deal with a student like me,” you replied, not looking up at him, “I don’t blame them, I would get frustrated when I have to repeat the same god damn thing a thousand times to someone who still can’t get it.”

“But it’s a teacher’s job to help students understand what they’re learning,” Spider-man said, “That’s the whole point!”

“I know,” you hang your head lower. God, you hated that he was right. “I just...it feels embarrassing,” you admitted, “Even asking help from a friend.” You began to pick at your fingernails, remembering  MJ’s offer from earlier.

“And a tutor...well, I used to have one back home,” you said, and Spider-man watched you closely, “But my dad saw them as a waste of money so he took over. But he’s not the best tutor.” The memories of your dad trying to “help” you made you tense, and the emotions from earlier today started to creep back.

“I get where you’re coming from, in a way,” Spider-man replied, and you looked up at him, “When I first started out as Spider-man I insisted that I didn’t need anyone’s help. I felt guilty asking for help because I wanted to assume responsibility for something I felt was my problem.” His arms fell to his sides as he looked up, reminiscing.

“I didn’t want to drag the people I cared about the most into my problems,” he continued, “I didn’t want them to get hurt. But then it ended up...hurting someone I cared about the most.” You felt the weight of his words as he looked down.

“I couldn’t look at Ma-,” he stopped himself, “I mean my closest peers without feeling like it was all my fault. If I had only been honest about my feelings, I thought maybe things would’ve been different. ”

You watched the masked man, and you could tell that this anecdote was hard to bring up. People put super-heroes on such a high pedestal, seeing them as invincible people with nothing to lose. How forgetful they are that they have lives too, that they have dealt with hardships and flaws. From the tone and inflections of his voice, Spider-man sounded fairly young to you. Maybe he was your age, or maybe slightly older. You didn’t know if he was human or not, but you could imagine that getting these powers came at a price.

Everything comes at a price, you remembered your parents telling you. Nothing comes without consequence. 

“Then things began to change when Mr. Stark recruited me,” he went on, “It was the best moment of my life. Finally, I thought, I could do something more and still protect those I care about. I felt like I was finally doing more.” He let out a dry chuckle.

“I became so confident that I could do more, and I even disobeyed Stark because I thought I didn’t need help,” you continued to listen in intently, “And it blew up in my face.” 

“The point is,” He looks up at you, “Asking for help doesn’t mean you’re dumb or weak, it means that you’re strong enough to know when you need it. The words weighed on you, and you looked out, thoughtfully. Maybe he’s right, your consciousness spoke, But it still seems so...terrifying. You noticed that you were at your stop, but your bus was running a bit late.

“We’re here,” You spoke, pointing your thumb towards the green bench that was next to a bus stop pole.

“Ah,” Spider-man noticed this, and you both stopped walking. You both turned to each other.

“Thank you for walking me here,” you said, giving him a smile, “I appreciate it.” The masked boy rubbed the back of his neck again, seemingly bashful by your gratitude.

“H-hey, no problem,” he said shyly, “Got to look after civilians, after all.”

“Right,” you responded with a chuckle, tilting your head to the side with a raised brow.“‘The little guys’ Are we the munchkins of Oz and you’re Dorothy Gale?”

“Wh-what?!” Spider-man exclaimed, shaking his head, “N-no! That’s not what I-”

“I mean, you guys almost have the same color scheme,” You pressed on, amused by his reaction, “You just need the ruby slippers and you’re good to go.”

“H-hey,” he whined, shuffling his feet all embarrassed.

“Gosh,” you laughed, “For a diligent super-hero, you’re way too easy to tease.” 

“A-am not,” He pouts as he crosses his arms, looking down at his shoes shyly. 

“Oh my god,” you said, stifling a laugh, “You’re acting like my seven year old neighbor now.”

He looks up and gives you a glare, but then lets out a chuckle; a sound that warmed up your heart and your cheeks. The sound of the bus honking made you both look over to see it pulling into your stop. Darn it, you were having such a good time with him! You thought with a scowl. A disappointed sigh let your lips and you turned to look at your crush.

“Thanks again,” you said, giving him a shy smile, “Hopefully I’ll see you soon?”

“Y-yeah,” he said, almost sounding enamored by your smile, “G-get back home safely.”

“W-will do,” you stuttered back, forcing yourself to look at him even though you wanted to desperately hide the blush that was growing on your face.

“And (Y/N),” you looked up at him as he continued, “I-if you need me to walk with you again, d-don’t hesitate to holler at me.”

“O-oh n-no it’s okay!” You exclaimed, waving your hands dismissively, “I-I don’t want to take up your time!” Then, you watched as Spider-man took a step toward you, making your heart beat widely. Gently, he placed his arm atop your shoulder, and your body froze in shock.

“You,” he began, looking at you sincerely (or as sincerely as his lenses could make him look), “You never take up my time. I enjoy being with you.”

And at that moment, you felt your soul ready to rocket itself into the clouds from pure joy. 

You wished you could stay like this, but the screeching of the bus’s brakes broke both of you out of the moment, and Spider-man retreated his hand from your shoulder.

“I-I, um,” he rubbed the back of his neck yet again, while you were still processing what just happened, “You better go.”

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, then forced your body to turn it’s heel and head toward the bus. You turned and gave Spider-man a small wave, to which he returned. You adjusted your backpack and headed inside, tapping your bus card and then quickly taking the nearest available seat. As the bus doors closed and began your hour long ride, you watched as Spider-man shot a web toward the nearest building, then swung into the night.

Wow, you thought as you placed your backpack atop your lap. That was all you could think. Wow. 

-

The bus ride had been long and tedious, but soon you were walking up the footsteps towards your house in the quaint area of Maspeth, Queens. You opened the door and upon entering your two-story brick house you could hear the television from the living room. You glanced over and saw your mom and dad sitting in their designated lounge chairs across from the wide monitor that was displayed on the wall. It seems that they were watching one of those night time talk show hosts from New York.

“I’m home,” You announced, kicking your sneakers off of your feet as you shut the door behind you. Mom looked up and saw you.

“Welcome back, dear!” Your mom greeted you with a cheerful yet tired smile, “How was work?” You told her the same old thing you’ve said to her before (“It was okay, I’m just tired.”), though you opted to leave the bit about Spider-man out. 

“Well, I’m glad you got home safely,” She says, “If you’re hungry I made some dinner.”

“Nah, I ate at Delmar’s,” You replied, quickly reminiscing on your number two sandwich from earlier. It wasn’t your usual, but you were going to lose it if Delmar nagged at you for having a number five every single night you worked. Upon hearing this, mom furrows her brows in disappointment.

“Eating all of those sandwiches isn’t healthy for you,” she comments, turning back to the television, “I don’t know how well sanitized that small place is, who knows what kind of chemicals are in those ingredients.” You bit back the urge to snap at her, because this isn’t the first time she made this dumbass claim. 

“Did you have an exam today?” You heard your father’s low but stern voice come from the living room. He didn’t turn to look towards you. 

“N-no,” you replied sheepishly, playing with your fingernails nervously, “Just a chemistry quiz.” 

“I better see an A on that,” He coldly replied, and even from the house entrance you can feel his annoyance, “You have all this time to work on your damn art projects and working in that junkyard so I better see the same effort in your STEM classes.”

Your teeth clenched, feeling the ball of emotions form in your throat. Without saying a word, you headed upstairs, where you entered your bedroom and crashed head first into your unmade bed. A long breath you didn’t even realize you were holding escaped your body, muffled by your bed sheet. You got up and slipped off your backpack, then turned to take a look around your very messy room. 

It’s been a while since you last cleaned up your space. The art table was littered with your current gouache paint project of a plant study, your art board was discarded near the end of your bed, the books on your shelves were completely disorganized, your desk had your biology notes scattered upon it, and you still had a unfinished sketched canvas of an ocean sunfish lying next to it. The sound of your mom nagging at you to keep it clean knocked at your brain, immediately making you annoyed. 

Dreading the scolding that could be, you let out an exaggerated huff and began to organize your art table. Mid-way through putting your gouache tubes in their designated container, you remembered your mom passively commenting about how Peter Parker probably keeps his desk very tidy, and that’s why he’s doing so well in school. 

The memory had you clenching your fists, annoyance from the memory returning. Even at home, you couldn't escape Peter Parker's presence, and that ticked you off more than anything in the world. Why couldn’t he just be a dumbass and leave it at that? No, he had to be a smart dumbass. How fucking annoying.

“Stupid Parker and his stupid perfection,” you mumbled angrily to yourself as you shoved the rest of your gouache tubs into the containers, “I hope I don’t have to deal with your stupid face forever.”

-

Tuesday had been an arguably much better day, and it was made better by the fact that you had art club after school. 

You arrived at the art club meeting room, which was just the school’s art studio. Easel stands were climbed together at one end of the room, while several artworks of students were sprinkled across the room. You could smell the wet ceramic clay from the other side of the room, where several to-be finished artworks were bagged up to keep their wet form. 

The wooden drawing horses were arranged in a semicircle, where they had already been occupied by your fellow art club members. In no time you were able to spot MJ, who was waving at you to notice her. Smiling, you scuttled on over to the unoccupied wooden seat next to her, place your backpack underneath. The both of you said your greeting even though you just had chemistry together.

“What do you think we’ll be doing today?” You asked her curiously.

“Dunno,” She responded, leaning back and crossing her arms, “This is my first time joining the school’s art club. This time last year I’d be in one of the rooms where they held detention and draw the sad people in there.” You looked off and nodded, seeming to get it.

“But,” she started, and you looked back at her, “If I had to guess, I think we’ll probably talk about the spring show. The arts department needs money anyways so auctioning off student work is usually a good way to bring in the dough.”

As if on cue, Ms. Narvaez, the newest art teacher at MSST and the club’s advisor, entered the studio. Everyone turned to greet her and she returned the greeting with a gentle yet tired smile.

“Afternoon, guys,” she greeted, placing her bag of materials on her desk at the corner of the room, “I’m glad to see that everyone came today because we have something really important to discuss.” She rummaged through her bag then pulled out her trusty yellow acrylic clipboard. 

“In about a month we’ll be holding our annual spring art show,” she announced, heading to the front of the semi-circle so that everyone could see her, “We need to think of a theme for this show today, so we can print the fliers out as soon as possible and encourage the students at this school to participate. Last year we had a whopping fourteen people submit work, but it was all from you guys.” Everyone looked at each upon hearing this information.

“So,” she continued, “We need a good theme so we can bring in more submissions. More submissions could mean more auctioned-off art, which will lead to more funding for our department.” Everyone began to whisper to each other, though not very enthusiastically.

“Please take out a sheet of paper and write down any themes you have in mind, no matter the number,” said Ms. Narvaez, and everyone began to unzip their bags and grab their notebooks. MJ and you did the same, grabbing a notebook that you specifically had for ideas for art. You turned to the next blank page and began jotting down anything that came up in your mind.

Camouflage

Growth

Becoming

Home

Serenity

You were about to list another word when a knock alerted you and the rest of the art club. Everyone turned and you saw your guidance counselor, Ms. Lee, peeking from the entrance of the studio. 

Uh oh. You thought. Guidance counselors making unannounced appearances was never a good sign in high school.

“Oh, Florence!” Ms. Narvaez smiles upon seeing her wife, “Do you need to speak to me?”

Ms. Lee smiled. “Hi dear,” she turned to meet your eyes, “Actually, I’m here for (Y/N).”

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

Annotations

* = STEM stands for Science Technology Engineering and Math

**= paletas are Mexican popsicles that you can get from men on the street pushing a ice cream cart full of them

Ms. Narvaez is based off of American actress Lauren Velez

Ms. Lee is based off of actress Sandra Oh

[themangledsans0508]

Grasping at Control

Allie can suck my wee if she’s reading this you bitch.

TW: Self-Harm

Tweek Tweak considered himself the most fucked-up person in the entirety of South Park, which was quite an achievement considering he went to school with actual sociopaths, murderers, and drug dealers.

Yet here he was, a cocktail of addiction, anxiety, ADHD, and depression. He felt pretty alone, despite all the years he had to make friends and come to terms with himself. One of two kids out as gay, and very few adults in their town understanding, much less out themselves; he had no one to talk to. 

Just thinking about it made him want to curl up into a ball and suffocate.

And he tried.

He wrapped himself up in blankets and cried.

He cried for what felt like ages before he got sick of feeling miserable from the stale air that had just enough oxygen in it to keep him alive. 

He crawled out and sat, shaking violently. Why did he want this to happen? Why didn’t he want to be alive?

Mr Mackey had lectured them many, many times on what to do if you or someone you knew felt like they wanted to kill themselves, and Tweek wouldn’t hesitate to act if someone else felt the same way he did.

So why didn’t he care about himself?

He thought back to fourth grade when Kim Jong Un marked him as a possible target if war were to break out and Craig brought him to an amusement park.

“Well, I’m sorry that I’m actually in control of my goddamn emotions, you baby!”

That exchange had only been a minute long, but Tweek had never forgotten it. Craig was right, he wasn’t in control of his emotions. For fuck’s sake, he wasn’t even in control of his movements.

He wasn’t in control of anything. He snapped back to the present from the pain of his hair being torn out by himself, and he tried to stop himself.

His movements were involuntary, even when putting his force against them he couldn’t stop himself.

He screamed in frustration. He didn’t care if anyone heard him, because he knew from experience that nobody would do anything even if he was being murdered. His own parents didn’t care for him. The only reason his dad kept him was because having a kid helped his coffee shop.  As he got older, his dad also got free labour out of him as the form of “chores.”

His hands flew from his hair to his arms, tearing up his skin to the point he bled. He looked down to see the mess and rushed to the bathroom to prevent his room from turning into a crime scene.

He stared at himself in the mirror. Small patches of hair missing from his scalp, large bags under his eyes that served to highlight the tears running down his face. There were scratches down his cheeks from his nails dragging down his face and when he raised his hand to feel them, his arms showed a nightmare of red lines intersecting so much that they looked like a terrible map. 

He reached for the bandages under the counter and felt a flash of pain from a tear dropping onto an open wound on his arm. He bit back a yelp of pain and a horrible idea came to him. He reached for a razor in the cabinet.

Maybe there was something he could control.

~

Craig Tucker liked to call himself a “good boyfriend.”

Sure, he wasn’t perfect, nobody was. He still had spats with his lover just as everyone else did. However, as they aged and matured, those spats stopped being physical very quickly as they aged and by eleven they were purely verbal. 

They didn’t have them frequently either, and they didn’t last very long. 

So, as a good boyfriend would be, he was concerned when Tweek didn’t come to school. He tried texting him, then calling him to no avail. He didn’t like that, Tweek would usually tell him if he was sick, or pick up the phone when Craig called. 

“Craig, dude,” Token said, “maybe he’s asleep or something.” 

“He doesn’t sleep Token. He breathes coffee,” Craig sighed.

“Okay, maybe he left his phone somewhere,” Clyde offered. Craig nodded.

“Probably.” Craig could hear the static noise of his friends talking about girls, football, or other things he would usually be amused by.

Concerned was not something that people would normally think Craig Tucker was capable of being. Once upon a time, they were probably right. Tweek taught him how to comprehend emotions instead of pretending they didn’t exist, even if he still preferred not to express them.

Tweek brought out the best in him. Craig helped him find his center. They balanced each other out pretty well. 

Craig would be lying, however, if he said he didn’t keep secrets from Tweek. His secrets weren’t anything terrible like he murdered someone or he was cheating on Tweek, but that he had anxiety himself.

He never told Tweek because he decided early on he could deal with it himself. He was constantly worried that something would happen to Tweek or any of his other friends. With the town that they lived in and the fact that he had actually been kidnapped and dragged to Peru once, he felt those fears were justified.  

While he would never claim his anxiety was as bad or even worse than Tweek’s, it had given him his fair share of sleepless nights and long days.

Situations like this had happened a few times before and never failed to set off his anxiety.

Perhaps his friends were onto his lies, or maybe they could simply tell that this was bothering him more than he would let on, but they gave him some space.

He appreciated that.

~

Tweek sat on his bed, staring at his arm. His room was littered with lego bricks, empty coffee cups, and bandage wrappers.

While he was in general rather prone to accidentally hurting himself,  the sheer amount of fresh wounds dancing down his arms exposed what actually occurred.

He couldn’t risk anyone finding out about it, especially Craig. 

He loved Craig too much for him to have the burden of this on his shoulders. He couldn’t imagine what he would say when he found out.

If he found out.

Tweek had no intention of telling him, and he wouldn’t let him see either. 

But he couldn’t skip school forever. 

He sighed in frustration. He didn’t know what he was feeling. Anger, sadness, frustration, regret, or maybe a mix of it all.

He felt lost

~

Craig inserted his copy of Tweek’s house key into the lock.

They both had a key to each other’s house, and they had for a long time. Since they began dating to be exact. They respected each other’s privacy though, and if Tweek told him to leave, he would. 

He opened the door and poked his head in. The house was dark, which didn’t really surprise him since both the matriarch and the patriarch of the family were working in the coffee shop.

“Tweek? Are you in here?” he called

The house was still, yet Craig went in anyways. He shut the door behind him and flicked on the light. There was no one downstairs, so he swiftly moved to the second floor and approached Tweek’s room. He knocked on the door gently.

“Tweek?” Craig listened for a response. He heard nothing but quiet breathing on the other side. “Tweek, is it alright if I come in?”

The boy on the other side remained silent.

“Tweek?” 

“Go away, Craig.” His voice was sad and quiet, and the promise Craig had made got lost in the wind.

“What’s wrong Tweek?” Craig couldn’t stop the worry from flowing out in his voice, even though he tried.

“I’m sick Craig. Just go away. I don’t want to see you right now.” Tweek’s voice shook as he spoke, along with small jitters and whimpers. Craig could sense something was wrong and turned the doorknob.

He gently pushed against the door and to his surprise, it didn’t open. There was a weight against the door. It wasn’t heavy, well he wasn’t heavy. Craig knew exactly who was against the door. Tweek was never heavy, not even when they were little. He had gotten scrawnier and scrawnier as they aged since sometimes his anxiety made him just not be hungry, or even scared to eat. He would also forget, or be full from drinking so much coffee even though he drank far less than he used to. 

Craig stopped pushing and heard the door quickly snap back into its place with a click. He wasn’t going to force the door open and possibly hurt Tweek, he wouldn’t risk that.

“Craig, please. Just-” he heard his voice break, “Please.” His voice broke, along with Craig’s last straw. 

He silently went back down the stairs and out the house, turning to look up at Tweek’s window. The shades were drawn and the room behind them was dark. 

Craig turned to look at the twin pines that grew next to the house. They had been there for longer than either boy had been alive, and had grown past the height of the window.

He walked over to the lush green plant and grabbed a hold of it’s lower branches, hoisting himself up. He repeated the movement multiple times until he was at the tip of the tree. The entire tip shuddered with his every breath and threatened to snap with his every movement. 

The tree leaned over slightly, allowing Craig to reach over and tap the window. It flew open and Tweek pulled open that shade.

“Craig! What the hell are you doing?”

“Hanging out. Can I come in?”

Tweek cursed under his breath and reached his hands out. Craig accepted them and jumped into the window, cutting his legs on the branches of the tree. He tumbled through the window, landing on top of Tweek with an “oof.” He felt the stinging in his leg and light wetness and realised trying to climb into a window from a pine tree was a terrible idea.

“Tweek-”

“Craig, what the fuck?” Tweek panted. “Why did you fucking do that?”

Craig looked at the blonde boy underneath him. He was skin and bones, the bags under his eyes were huge. His face was tear-stained and scratched. 

“Tweek, I know something’s wrong.” Craig pushed himself off Tweek and offered to help him up. Tweek simply stared at him, mouth slightly agape.

“You’re an idiot, Craig. Why don’t you ever just listen to me?”

Tweek let out a quiet sob and looked up at Craig. 

“Craig, I’m a mess. What the hell do you want from me?” Craig lowered himself down to the floor and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Tweek, I want to know what’s wrong. We have to work together through these things, remember? Beat them together, expectations, resentment, all of it.” Tweek pushed Craig’s hand off him and jumped up.

“You want to know what’s wrong? What’s wrong is the fact that no matter what I do, I have no control over my life! Something that only I should control! Me and me alone! Everyone else controls it! I never became a knight or a queen, I’m still just a pawn in someone else’s fucking game! And guess what, pawns are expendable! I’m expendable. I’m not needed. That’s what’s wrong! I’m only a fucking tool for the entire world to use.” 

Tweek waved his hands, exasperated. His voice shuddered with every word he said, tears ran down his cheeks. He twitched and whimpered every few seconds. His hands tore across his body, flying from his arms to his shirt to his hair.

Craig stepped forward and embraced him. He pulled him tight against his body and felt him tense up and wince slightly. Tweek pushed against him slightly in a poor attempt to break free of his grip, before he simply caved in and buried his face into Craig’s shoulder. 

“I-I’m just replaceable Craig. My parents didn’t have to sell me into slavery because I’m already a slave to them. They control me, Craig.” 

“What can we do about that, Tweek? There has to be something.” Craig tangled one of his hands in Tweek’s hair and had the other one rub circles into his back. His voice was not sarcastic or mocking, but gentle and genuine.

“I don’t know Craig. I’ve tried so many things, so many things. Nothing works, Craig. Nothing.”

“Let’s try something else then. Something together. You don’t have to do this alone, Tweek.” Craig lowered them down to the floor, sitting with his legs crossed and Tweek in his lap. “We can run away together. Get our own house.”

“We can’t do that. Your sister needs you. She’s only thirteen.” 

“Fine. I’ll take you home with me then. You can live in my room.” Tweek shook his head.

“No, no. All these things put stress on you too. I want to deal with it myself,” he scolded. Craig sighed.

“I won’t let you do that. The whole point of a relationship is to deal with things together. If I can’t help you directly, then I want to be able to at least support you.”

“Where were you when I needed you? Why aren’t you ever here when I need you?” Tweek pushed himself out of Craig’s grip and stood up. “Why the fuck does everything go the shit when I’m not with you?” He shouted.

“What do you mean Tweek?” Craig slowly stood up and put his hands into his pockets.

“I mean why am I even more of a fucking mess without you?” Tweek’s hands flew up to his hair, causing his sleeves to slip down. 

Craig didn’t miss the small movement, he had become very perceptive since they had started dating. He noticed the red lines and scabs weaving down his arms. He reached his hand over to intertwine their fingers and grab his attention.

“Tweek, what happened to your arms?”

“Huh?” Tweek looked down to the subject of Craig’s curiosity. When he realised what it was he attempted to pull himself out of Craig’s grip. “It’s nothing! I just fell!” 

Craig’s grip strengthened just enough to keep a hold on Tweek but not enough to hurt him.

“Tweek, those weren’t from a fall.” Craig locked his own green eyes with Tweek’s blue ones. “Tell me the truth, Tweek. What are they from.” 

“What the fuck do you think they are from? You aren’t dumb,” he snapped. Craig lurched forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Tweek. He pressed his full weight into him. For the first time in perhaps ever, he had no control over himself.

They toppled backwards onto Tweek’s bed. Craig manoeuvred them so they weren’t at risk of falling off the bed and rested his head so his ear was directly above Tweek’s heart.

“Dude, what the hell?”

“What were you thinking?” Craig’s voice was different. It wasn’t monotone or bland, it was raw and emotional and occasionally breaking. “Why would you do that?”

“I was in control. I knew what I was doing. Nobody was in charge of me.”

“Yeah, well, you could have fucking died! Those could have gotten infected. They could have gone too deep and cut a vein! Is a brief relief really worth that risk?” Craig let out a quiet sob and gripped Tweek’s shirt.

Everything hit Tweek suddenly. He wiggled out from under Craig to lay beside him instead. He placed his hands on his cheeks and pressed their foreheads together.

“Hey, hey, I know it was stupid, okay? I’m not going to do it again.” Tweek whispered.

“You better not,” Craig muttered.

“And if I’m feeling like shit,” Tweek continued, “I’ll call you or text you to come over.”

“Or you can come over to my place,” Craig countered.

“Yeah, that’s true.”

Craig rolled Tweek over and pulled him against his body. He moved his arms from his shirt to his waist and pulled him down so he could rest his chin on his head.

“Well, I’m tired,” he yawned. “Text my mom and tell her I’m staying here tonight.”

“Why can’t you do it?” Tweek asked.

“Well, because I’m about to take a nap.”

“Wait, right now?”

“Yep.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Tweek said, “I have stuff I need to do.”

“Not anymore you don’t” Craig grumbled. “All you need to do is stay right here. I’m not moving until it’s time for school.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Well, we’ll have a terrible marriage then.”

There's gonna be a part two the angst isn't over my dears

[hystericalweenie]

Just Another Day at the Office Series - The Sexperiment

George MacKay x Reader Series

Part Two: Quickies, Surprises, and Nostalgia

Masterlist

Summary: Y/f/n Y/l/n is doing better than ever; she’s finally in a relationship with the man she’s been constantly thinking about, she has some great friends, and she’s thriving at her dream job. Except, there’s one problem: being in a relationship with one of your coworkers can get really steamy, and can cause a lot of sexual frustration. Her new pitch idea may solve exactly that problem, but will George be okay with it?

a/n: I have absolutely no personal experience in magazine/journalism career, so the information in this fic will be provided with the knowledge I have conducted from research. With that being said, please don’t be mad if this is not accurate!!! **“The Sexperiment” is inspired by an actual Cosmopolitan article (here’s the link!)

Warnings: This is a slow burn fic, their relationship won’t happen in one night, so if you’re not into that, check out some of the beautifully written imagines that you can most likely find under the george mackayxreader tag. I might eventually write some of my own too :P At least one person’s saying “fuck” and there’s NSFW content..aka smut. You have been warned.

After eating some cold ratatouille and ignoring some of George’s suspicious stares, I woke up the next morning–limping to the shower due to how sore my legs still were–with much more excitement. I had ordered many sets of lingerie, all different styles, colors, and fabrics, after coming home from George’s and paid an absurd amount, nearly giving myself heart palpitations after having to pay extra for next-day shipping. My package was set to arrive some time within the afternoon, so I settled on a sexy black balconette bra and matching panties, a simple set I’d worn for George in the past.

I wore a flowy sundress that day, showing some slight cleavage to excite George. I slipped a pair of brown wedges onto my feet, noticing that it complimented the dress. I smiled in satisfaction at my reflection before getting into my work and beginning the commute. The soft sounds from the radio, with short interferences from the radio hosts, I was relaxed from the stresses of the horrendous New York traffic. 

With a sigh of relief at the sight of the Essence building, I pulled into the parking lot, noticing I had gotten there much earlier than usual. With very few cars scattered across the wide parking lot, I shrugged as I made my way toward the tall building, my wedges clacking against the cement. 

“You’re here early.”

I jumped, the accent too familiar to my ears as I turned my head to see my lover, looking perfect as always. He wore a navy button-up and slacks, the deep blue of his shirt making his eyes resemble the ocean. His loose, sandy waves took perfect form on his head, making me want to rake my fingers through them. I noticed his eyes trail down from my face, stilling on my chest, before examining the remainder of my outfit.

“You look stunning, Y/n,” he breathed, a smile making its way onto his plump lips.

I chewed on my lip, biting back a smile of my own as I fought the urge to run my hands through his hair. 

“You look dapper yourself, George,” I complimented, taking one more glance at his figure. My eyes went wide when I noticed the sudden bulge in his pants.

He looked down, noticing my stare, a blush spreading across his cheeks. 

“You want me to help you out?” I whispered, my eyes moving back up to his face, awaiting his answer.

He nodded, looking around quickly at the two coworkers who walked past us, into the building.

“I left some files for you in my car, Y/n,” he announced, slightly stuttering before we began speed-walking towards his vehicle. 

“Files?” I whispered, giggling. “George, everything’s electronic.”

He rolled his eyes, as we reached his car. Thankfully, he’d been parked in the back of the parking lot, away from the few cars that were there. Looking around one more time, he quickly unlocked the vehicle, as we both piled into the front seats. He turned to me, a frantic expression on his face.

“How should we do this?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in distress.

I took a minute to come up with multiples of possible positions. Once I settled on one, I smirked at him, reaching for the lever on the side of the seat and pulled until the back of my seat was entirely down. He grinned, climbing on top of me and engulfing my lips with his own. He rested his elbows on each side of my head as our lips moved against each other, tongues touching every now and then. He shifted his weight onto one elbow, the other hand moving down my figure, slipping up my dress. My legs parted in response to his touch, as his fingers trailed toward my panties, pushing them aside quickly and running the pad of his finger through my folds.

I moaned against his lips at the contact, before he pulled his finger away, lips parting from mine.

“We don’t have much time,” he apologized.

I nodded, wrapping my legs around his waist as he got up on his knees, unzipping his slacks and pulling his member out of his boxers. He quickly spat in his hand before jerking himself off a few times as I watched him in awe, my legs trembling at the sight. He then lined himself up at my entrance and pushed inside of me, laying himself back on top of me and returning his lips to mine. My lips moved sweetly against his whilst he entered the entirety of his length into me slowly, giving me a moment to adjust. After a moment of getting used to his length stretching my walls, I pushed my hips against him, letting him know to move.

Instead of his usual slow beginning rhythm, he thrusted into me with much more might, much more vigor as our lips began to move sloppily against one another’s. My stomach began to knot and my eyes became half-lidded as my hips bucked to meet his, desperate for a release. We watched each other, examined each other’s fucked-out expressions as we chased our orgasms, his thrusts becoming quicker and deeper. He moved a hand between us, rubbing sloppy circles around my sensitive bud, still remaining eye contact with me in search of a reaction. 

My jaw went slack at the stimulations, my legs shaking and my eyes closing as I reached my climax, a string of “George”’s leaving my lips as I felt him reach his own inside of me. He collapsed onto me, his head falling into the crook of my neck as we attempted to regain our breaths. Our chests heaved against each other’s, slowly relaxing into one another as we recovered. His lips began pressing soft kisses against my neck, slowly moving up to my lips. Moving from my lips, he peppered my face with kisses, making me smile at the sweet gesture. 

Pecking the tip of my nose and giving me one last concluding kiss on my lips, he smiled down at me, moving stray hairs out of my face whilst his eyes examined all of my features. It felt like ecstasy, watching him fall in love with me in front of my very own eyes. 

“I think I’m falling in love with him,” I admitted wholeheartedly.

Bree paused her show, turning her head to look at me, her other hand lazily holding a glass of red wine. Her bushy eyebrows rose and her big, hazel eyes widened. 

“You’re certain?” she interrogated, her voice filled with caution. 

I nodded. “I’m pretty damn certain, Bree,” I assured her, moving in her direction and taking a seat beside her on the sofa.

She breathed out a laugh of shock, her lips spreading over her perfect smile.

“I’m really happy for you, Y/n,” she confessed, setting her wine on the coffee table to free her hands, grasping them within her own and boring her sincere eyes into mine. “I never thought I’d see the day where you finally moved on, and found someone healthy and good for you.”

My eyes softened at her confession as I squeezed her hands gently.

“Me too,” I answered truthfully.

She pulled me into a bone-crushing hug, but I didn’t mind. I was glad that she was so happy for me; although I didn’t want to admit it, her validation meant a lot to me at times, it assured me that what I was doing was right. She leaned into me and resumed her show whilst we lay on the couch together, basking in the love we shared for one another. 

“I met someone on Tinder,” she spoke up. 

My fingers played with the honey blond locks of her hair.

“Oh, yeah?” I asked, not paying much mind as my eyes were fixed on the screen in front of us,

She lifted her head up to look at me, her eyes wary.

“It’s a girl,” she admitted, a nervous blush painting her cheeks.

I shrugged.

“So?”

She moved her head back down to rest on my lap and I swore I could have felt her smile.

“She’s beautiful, and she’s really funny,” she explained, “and she works for the same company that you do.”

My fingers paused against her scalp, curiosity getting the best of me.

“She works at Essence?”

She nodded against my lap.

“Do you have any photos of her?”

She nodded once more, sitting up from my lap and grabbing her phone from the coffee table. After a few swipes and taps against her screen, she handed me the device, which had the mystery girl’s Tinder profile set up on the screen. My eyes widened at the ginger haired girl staring back at me in the photos.

Faith.

“Holy shit, I know her!” I exclaimed in disbelief.

“You do?” she asked, eyes widening in shock.

I nodded vigorously, handing the device back to her.

“She dated George for a few months when she was still closeted,” I explained. “She’s also a journalist and she’s fucking amazing.”

She blushed, staring at the photos of the girl as I went on about her.

“We should all go out and do something,” I suggested.

Her eyes peeled away to look at me, a look of admiration taking over her features.

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t that be awkward for them?” 

I shook my head.

“No, they’re still friends,” I explained with a shrug.

She tossed her phone back onto the coffee table with a groan, resting her head back onto my lap.

“God, I forgot what dating someone is like,” she whined, turning her head to look up at me whilst my fingers returned back to her blond waves. “Will you help me with her?”

I furrowed my eyebrows.

“Of course,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone. “That’s what best friends are for.”

She grinned at me, eyes closing as I stroked the soft strands that cascaded around her head onto my lap. The quiet television soothed both of us as we began to think to ourselves silently; I was thinking about George and she’d most likely been thinking about Faith.

10:07 pm, Me: You’ll never guess who my roommate is talking to.

10:09 pm, George: Who?

10:10 pm, Me: Faith!

10:11 pm, George: Are you serious? Small world, huh?

10:11 pm, George: We should all do something, maybe it’ll break the ice for them

10:13 pm, Me: I suggested the same thing, maybe with Dean too though he might end up fifth-wheeling lol

10:13 pm, Me: How’s your friend Andrew?

10:14 pm, George: He’s doing really well. A lot better than Dean and I thought, actually. Maybe you can come with us to meet him sometime.

10:15 pm, Me: I’d absolutely love that, George

10:16 pm, George: I talk to him about you every time I go

10:16 pm, George: In my defense, he always asks 

My cheeks turned crimson.

10:17 pm, Me: You are so fucking adorable

10:17 pm, Me: I’d love to meet him

10:18 pm, George: He’s been wanting to meet you. Maybe sometime this week you can go there with us?

10:19 pm, Me: That sounds great. 

The next day, I wore a simple pair of mismatched bra and panties, hoping that I’d be able to wear my planned lacy royal blue slip at his apartment later. In a loose skirt and a matching sweater, I made my way to my work, typing as soon as my bum had hit my chair. 

Dean and I began a conversation about the distinct difference between British and American desserts, and how he'd never learn to understand how Americans find the Twinkie so delicious. I told him that as an adult, I felt that the taste of them had changed since I was a child; he suggested that my tastebuds had matured. He told me of the desserts he’d had during his childhood, and how they were much more proper than the ones most kids in America have. 

“I wasn’t much of a boxed-dessert kind of child, though, to be honest,” I informed him, resting my chin in the palm of my hand. “My mother made most of the desserts from scratch with the fruits from our garden.”

“A lot of pies, then?” he queried, his dark, brunette eyebrows furrowing.

I nodded with a smile. “A lot of pies,” I agreed, sadly reminiscing on the memories that flowed into my head. 

George came over to our desks not too long after our nostalgic conversation, meeting us at lunchtime, which had been our usual routine after we’d started officially dating. He stood by my desk, resting his arms on the table and towering over my seated self. I exited out of my document quickly, hoping that he wouldn’t see any evidence of the experiment. With furrowed eyebrows, most likely of suspicion, I distracted him with my touch, trailing my hand up his arm. His sleeves were rolled up, as always, as I felt the raised veins against my fingertips. He grabbed my hand, pressing a firm kiss to my knuckles before holding it in his own.

Dean cleared his throat with a roll of his eyes at our intimacy.

“Stop fuckin’ each other with your eyes,” he groaned, grabbing his coat.

I giggled, standing up and grabbing my own jacket from the back of my chair. 

“I was wondering if you’d like to visit Andrew with Dean and I after work today,” George spoke, returning his hand in mine as the three of us made our way to the elevator.

“Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding?” I asked worriedly, looking into his blue eyes with my own concern.

He shook his head, a reassuring smile on his lips.

“I promise.”

“Yeah,” Dean spoke up beside us as we piled into the small elevator. “Andrew’s been dying to see if you’re as hot as George described.”

George rolled his eyes, playfully smacking his arm whilst the doors closed. 

The two began bickering, and I found myself smiling. Watching the two people I’d adored most at my work, awaiting the usual restaurant down the block we went to everyday, it made me realize how thankful I was. I was thankful that I had an amazing boyfriend, someone who I’d been attracted to since my first day on the job, and I was thankful for my friend, someone I talked to every single day whom sat across from me. 

I ignored the thought that reminded me the inevitability of George finding out about the experiment I was conducting. I didn’t want to think about that, even though I knew deep down I had to tell him soon.

[doyouevenshipbr0]

gruvia dabble

author's note: bruh. yall knew i had to write SOMETHING!!! these last couple weeks have been CRAZY for us gruvia lovers ughhh im so happy!!! and ok im probably eventually going to write what i think will happen in the upcoming chapters before they come out, but i usually don't like to write fics based on like what i think will happen in the next chap. cus then when my fic is just completely disproven by the following chapter im kinda like "eh thats kind of a waste." u know what im saying?? ik theyre called "fan fiction" for a reason but idk. i like to write things that could actually be in the realm of possibilities for the canon. ok does that make any sense??? ok well this fic is heavily inspired by our beautiful chapter 26. also it is soooo like 192727 other drabbles ive already written hehe. also this literally doesnt rly make sense tbh. i just wanted gray telling juvia his thought process like he did w juvina. so. enjoy❤️❤️❤️

*

"Gray-sama would you like to-" Juvia eagerly approached her dear Gray. Since the guild was finally up and running again after the Alvarez war, she couldn't wait to spend actual quality time with Gray. They hadn't really gotten to since they were so busy with the construction of the guild.

"Nope. Goin' on a job." Gray casually walked passed Juvia with his hands in his pockets.

"Eh?!" Juvia snapped her head around and watched Gray leave. "So soon?! Can Juvia at least come with?!" She called out as he continued to walk.

"Nope. Talk to ya' later." Gray didn't turn around. He just stuck a hand up and waved, still heading straight out the door.

Juvia was taken aback for a moment, but she understood. As much as she loved to shower Gray with affection, she knew he was a lone wolf at heart. And with constantly being surrounded by his guildmates as they all fought for who would get to use the hammer next, he was certainly drained.

Juvia nodded with determination. "It's alright. Next time." She said with certainty in her head.

However, over the next three weeks of Gray taking mission after mission and constantly dismissing Juvia, she was frustrated to say the least. She watched him walk out that door with hardly acknowledging her for the last time.

Without even thinking, her feet began to strut their way to catch up with Gray. She picked up her pace and finally caught up with him before he could leave the grounds of the guild.

"Gray-sama." Juvia called, and Gray paused. She used the time to catch up with him, and there they stood in the courtyard.

"What's up?" He simply asked.

"Juvia was just-- well--" She began to get nervous. She cheeks reddened as imagery of she and her beloved Gray danced through her head. She shyly put her hands behind her bag and wiggled her foot a bit. "Juvia was hoping to spend some time with Gray-sama, now that everything's finally calmed down."

"Yeah. We can later." Gray turned right back around and began walking again.

"Wait!" Juvia reached out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. She let go after a brief pause and Gray looking back at her with his piercing eyes.

"It's just-" She looked away, her eyes saddened. "Juvia's been trying to talk to Gray-sama for about three weeks now, and you've done nothing but ignore me." She pouted a bit. "Just when will later be?" She finished.

Gray sighed. "I dunno'"

"You don't know?!"

"Yeah. I don't know when later will be." His voice was firm.

Juvia was startled at the harshness of his voice and sheepishly caved in a bit. "Has-" Juvia stammered, clearly nervouse. "Has Juvia done something?"

"Huh?" Gray rasied a brow.

"Has Juvia done something to make Gray-sama mad at her?" Her eyes were suddenly glossy with tears, and Gray's eyes reacted by opening up.

"N-no! Not at all! You said it yourself, we haven't hung out in weeks. How could I be mad at you?" Gray was guilty for his tone.

"But why haven't you spent time with me in weeks Gray-sama?" Juvia pried, almost begging. "There's got to be a reason."

Gray's face regained composure. He remembered his purpose. He looked away. "I'm busy."

"Busy with what?"

"Busy with work."

"Well, you don't have to be so busy. And if you need to work so badly, you can always bring Juvia with you on-" Her voice regained its spunk as she began to form a new idea, only to have Gray shoot it down.

"No." He was harsh again.

"No?" Juvia's voice quivered.

"This doesn't have anything to do with you." Gray still looked away.

Juvia's heart sunk. "Oh." Tears began to well up again. "Well." She was looking for the right words to say, but she was at a loss. "Juvia will just mind her own business then." Just as she turned away to sulk back to the guild, Gray caught a glimpse of the tear that rolled down her cheek.

"Wait!" This time, Gray was the one reaching for Juvia's wrist. "I'm sorry." His voice was smoother.

"N-no..." Juvia's voice was timid. "Juvia is the one who is sorry for-"

"Stop it. You don't need to apologize." Gray loosened the grip on her wrist, but pulled her back a couple steps.

"I was lying." Gray said as Juvia finally faced him again, tears glassing over her eyes. "This does have to do with you." He blushed.

"Then why can't Juvia come with-"

"Because, that's not why it has to do with you." As Juvia cocked her head to side, clearly confused, Gray realized that what he was saying sounded silly.

"Gah!" Gray called out and hit himself with his palm, feeling frustrated for bot understanding how to form the thoughts in his head into words. "Do you wanna' sit somewhere?" He finally asked.

Juvia was still confused, but of course nodded in agreement.

The two found a nearby bench that was sitting right in front of a big, clear lake. The sunset reflected on the water, and created an image almost as beautiful as the water itself. They looked at in admiration for a moment, and Juvia turned back to Gray.

"So how does this involve Juvia?" She finally asked.

"I-- I--" Gray remained looking at the lake and ruffled his hair. "I gotta' keep going on missions."

"But why?" Juvia asked, sweetly.

"I... have to get stronger." Gray grumbled as he leaned forward.

"Stronger?" Juvia chuckled. "That's silly! Gray-sama is already the strongest man in the whole world! There is no one thay can compare to you, dear! Why would you think a few missions could improve that?" Juvia swooned.

"If I was the strongest man in the world you wouldn't have that scar." Gray finally said something clearly. Juvia choked on her breath.

"Eh?" She said, softly. "Juvia gave this scar to herself."

"And it was to save me." He seemed like he was growing angrier.

"Yes, but-"

"If I was strong enough, I would've been able to break his chains before that happened. I would've been able to stop it and save you." The composure in his voice was clearly wavering.

"Gray-sama..." Juvia reached an arm and placed it on Gray's back.

"I'm sorry Juvia." His voice shook, and he still did not look at her. "I know I promised you an answer, and at the time i meant it. I still do. It's just-"

Horrible images flashed in Gray's mind, making his skin crawl. "After Invel, and almost losing you, not begin able to protect you... it--it killed me." Gray gritted his teeth, almost like he was biting back tears.

"Darling... You know Juvia is just fine protecting herself." She reasoned.

"Yeah, but you don't understand." He spat.

"Juvia is trying to understand."

"I need more confidence in myself. I need it. I need to know I can protect you when the time comes. And I need to know with 100% certainty." He finally looked at her, and Juvia swore she could see tears trying to break loose from his eyes. "I thought I knew back then, but I was wrong. Just like I was with Ur, Ultear, my dad, and anyone that I've ever loved, but wanted to protect. Just when I thought I could, it was too late. I thought it was too late with you, but it wasn't. This is my second chance, Juvia. I need to know for certain that I'll be enough."

Juvia scooted a bit closer. "Gray-sama, there is always going to be something out there that will pose a threat to you or me. It's inevitable. All that matters is that we do everything in our power to protect one another. As long as we try, our love will always prevail. You were more than enough for me from the moment we met, and Juvia would think you would see that by now."

"I know how you feel about me, and I know how I feel about you. I just need to make sure I'm the best version of myself for you. Please, understand. I have to do this." His eyes were beckoning for her.

"Gray-sama, Juvia just-" She paused when she saw the desperation in his eyes. "When will it finally be enough? When will you know you're strong enough?"

"I've decided I'm going to take the 100 Years Quest. After that, I'll be ready. I'm certain of it." Determination was plastered in his face once again.

"This is so unnecessary." Juvia sighed. "But if this is what Gray-sama must do, Juvia will wait. Juvia understands that you must do this for yourself, but I just wish Gray-sama can see that he is already more than enough for me." She put her hand atop of his and gave him a reassuring grin.

"Thank you." Gray smiled back and gave her hand a little squeeze. "I know I'll be ready soon, and once I am, I'm gonna' go after you." Gray gave a smirk, Juvia's face became flushed with his sudden forwardness.

The two shared a heartfelt gaze, as they looked in each other's eyes and finally understood one another. They gave calming smiles, finished by another hand squeeze from Gray.

"No matter what."