Tweaking his design a little bit maybe

Part two my queen my love my beautiful

Gotta do shower sex after basketball practice like… just need that tension and and Billy calling Steve a bitch idk need it badly

The longing… the vulnerability between the both of them…. Billy wondering how many of Steve’s buttons he can push because *surely* he’s not that easy???

Also

*slides 2 dollars over* *whispers* billy spitting on Steve’s face/mouth please….

I can’t say no to you 😩

part one

The next morning at school, Billy is kind of looking for Harrington. Not outright. He knows he’ll see him at practice but still, he finds himself craning his next over the crowds in the hallways in hopes that he’ll see some floppy brown hair. He’s actually in like, shock that it even happened last night. But Billy’s kind of obtained this skill, and maybe it’s not a morally good skill but he can pick up on vulnerabilities and use them to his advantage. He still thinks it was mostly fate that Wheeler decided to dump Steve at that exact moment. Because of Tommy, Billy was aware that they kind of had a rocky relationship anyways but he was anticipating playing the long run. Prod and poke at Harrington until he snapped. And then there he was, trying to rip that bottle of whiskey from Billy’s hands and his big, brown eyes just looked so sad. A kind of sad that lit a fire in Billy’s gut. It wasn’t news to him that he had a bit of kink for tears, he’d made girls cry before and he used to feel a bit of shame when it excited his dick. He hadn’t ever made a guy cry before. And he preferred them. So seeing those puppy dog eyes trying to convey dominance had him acting on impulse. It was really, so unreal that the events rolled out how they did.

As anticipated, he doesn’t see Harrington until he’s at practice. The lanky dude barrels through to his locker, which thanks to their last names, neighbors Billy’s. He pretty much expects Steve to avert his eyes, ignore him. Billy’s under the impression that Steve’s never even considered being with another guy. He’s not close enough to Tommy to ask if they’d done anything remotely gay in their deceased friendship. But those brown eyes look at him, look almost needy. His plush pink lips part and he’s about to say something, Billy’s leaning into it, so intrigued and desperate to know what he’s thinking but it’s interrupted. Hagan slaps the corner of their locker row and laughs, looking to Harrington who jumps and turns at the sound.

“Princess dump you, again?” Tommy preens, self satisfied grin spreading against his freckled cheeks, “it’s almost like, Carol and I were onto something!”

Steve’s body noticeably stiffens and his fingers move to the dial on his locker. Billy has to hold back his eye roll. Wants to tell Hagan to fuck off because god damnit, he really wanted to know what Harrington was about to say.

“She changed you, man,” Hagan prods on, shaking his head as he changes into his practice clothes. Billy and Steve busy themselves with filing through their lockers and if Billy isn’t mistaken, it’s like they’re waiting for Tommy to go away so they can shamelessly get an eyeful of the each other. Well, at least that’s what Billy’s waiting for.

Luckily, he gets what he’s hoping for. Tommy snorts, slams his locker shut and struts away. Billy sits on the bench and starts getting his boots off. He keeps his eyes on Steve’s legs as he does so, can see the bulge of his cock in his jeans and it brings back some vivid flashbacks of having said cock in his mouth last night. Harrington kicks his nikes off and his hands go to the waist of his jeans, he unbuttons them slowly and Billy glances up to meet those beautiful brown eyes he can’t stop thinking about. That neediness still shining in them. Okay, so Harrington wants him to watch. That’s a good sign. Billy sets his boots next to him and shrugs off his denim jacket, letting his eyes drag back down Steve’s body to his crotch. Harrington pushes the jeans down his thighs and then kicks them off his ankles. It takes quite a lot out of Billy to not shove his face against those white briefs. God, he wants to mouth at that outline of Harrington’s sizable yet flaccid cock.

Next Harrington is shedding off his polo, exposing a bit of chest hair that Billy isn’t expecting. His fingers itch to run through it. And he realizes if any of their teammates walk by, this is gonna look suspicious so he stands and starts undressing himself. And then they’re both standing there in their whitey tighties, eyes shamelessly raking over each others bodies.

“What were you gonna say?” Billy finds himself asking, voice barely above a whisper.

Steve’s face flushes and he curtly shakes his head, “Nothing. It’s… don’t worry about it.”

Like a switch, Steve’s quickly shucking his gym clothes on before shoving his feet in his Nikes. Closes his locker quietly and Billy watches as he trails away. Fuck. They were definitely just checking each other out. He’s not mistaken. What the hell was Steve gonna say?

First, they’ve got to run laps. It’s how every practice starts. Steve’s fast. He’s gained a lead on everyone with those long fucking legs of his. Running isn’t Billy’s strong suit. Actually, he absolutely hates cardio. Probably because he’s been smoking since he was twelve. But god damn, he’s determined to catch up to Harrington, even if it leaves his chest burning and his stomach churning. Once he does, Steve drops down to a jog and Billy does the same, turns so he’s jogging backwards and facing Harrington.

“I’m worried,” Billy informs him, frowning.

“About what?” Steve huffs, confusion clouding his puppy dog eyes.

“What you were gonna say.”

Steve smiles and goddamn those butterflies filling Billy’s gut have him extra worried. He was just trying to fuck the guy, not fall in love. Billy doesn’t do love. It’s not real. Sets you up for disappointment. People don’t stay so why the hell would you love them? But Jesus, that smile is pretty. Maybe even prettier than that pathetic sad look he had on his face last night.

“You really wanna know? It’s kinda stupid,” Steve is blushing. Whether it’s from Billy’s interest or the running, he can’t be sure.

“Yeah, well, you’re stupid,” Billy bites back, “But last night I…” he clears his throat, “What is it?”

Steve’s eyebrows bounce around and he purses his lip, chews on the insult thrown his way and tries to figure out how to feel about it. And god damnit he’s cute. Billy hates how cute this fucking dude is.

“It’s… I don’t know, man,” Steve sighs, “Just thanks, I guess.”

“Thanks?” Billy stops in his tracks, hands falling to his sides. “What?”

“Yeah! Thanks,” Steve pats his bicep and picks up his pace, sprinting around the corner of the track. It’s not often Billy’s surprised or left speechless. But here he is, dumbfounded as he watches his team catching up to them. Thanks? Thanks for what? Taking his ass virginity? Did… oh shit. Did Billy actually make Steve feel better? That’s a new feeling. He can’t decide how to process it. It’s alarming how badly he wants to kiss the asshole so it kind of forms into Billy wanting to punch the fuckers lights out and then transforms into him wanting to fuck Harrington again.

Once they make their way to the gym, the coach divides them up in teams. He gets picked first and subsequently Steve, to the other team. Which is gonna be fun. Gives Billy the excuse to crowd Steve on the court, get a bit of a feel without it being looked at sideways. Coach points to Billy’s team and announces, “Skins.”

Harrington’s eyes lock with his and he smirks, grabbing the hem of his grey Hawkins High gym shirt and pulls it over his head. He registers the way Harrington’s eyes fall to his chest as he chucks the shirt to the bench. God, it’s so obvious to him. And thanks? Steve wants more and Billy does too.

He wipes the court with the shirts, he’s competitive by nature and well, Steve’s his best competitor. He plays defense, crowds right against Steve’s back and the similarities of now and last night don’t fall short on him. Billy’s close to supporting a half chubbed cock right now. Especially the way Steve elbows him in the peck. Can’t help that his tits are sensitive. He grins, licks his lower lip and has to hold back from leaning forward and licking Steve’s cheek like he did the night before. He wants to consume Harrington in such an overwhelming way. But there’s unspoken rules to this shit.

They’d be lynched right here in this court if Billy did was he really wanted to do. His father would have a field day with the beating if he knew the thoughts he was thinking as he’s pressed against Steve. All he can do is steal the ball, dribble up the court and god damnit, try to impress Steve with this trick shot. He’s stunned himself he makes it and he turns, grinning wide as he looks to see Harrington bent over and panting, staring back at him.

“Steve?” Wheeler’s at the door of the gym and Billy’s blood boils at the way Harrington immediately follows her out.

What the hell does that Bitch want? Billy wishes he could follow the pair. Tell her what they’d done and that Steve didn’t need her anymore. But fuck, he’s got a game to play and who does he think he is? Steve’s boyfriend? Pathetic. Billy’s chasing after the ball before he can think to deeply about it.

Showers. Typically kind of a tough time for Billy because he digs looking at dicks, but he can’t. Still, he always feels eyes on his body in the showers and no one gets called out but he’s beyond worried he’ll get called out. And yeah, he’d heard the whispers about Harrington’s dick so it’s not a secret that the team is looking at each other. Harrington’s dick is kind of like an anomaly though. Like it’s okay to notice and talk about because of it’s size. But unlike the other dudes in this locker room, Billy’s had it in his mouth. Then again, he’s not sure anyone else here wants it in their mouth besides Tommy, though the guy won’t admit it. Billy can tell by the way he talks about him. Built Steve up like he was a literal King and not like the metaphorical one he is. Then, he saw Steve and well, he understood.

He watches Tommy’s eyes, they fall to his cock and then to Harrington’s. There’s a look on his face Billy can’t exactly place, perhaps jealously or something more… gay? He hasn’t quite fingered Tommy yet. They’ve just met. And honestly when he made the move on Steve, he was taking a huge risk that he ended with an even better payout. Tommy’s eyes fall to his own junk and well, he’s probably comparing. He did offer Carol up to Billy the second the three of them were alone but Billy shrugged it off like a joke.

“Good practice,” Billy lamely offers, snatching Steve’s soap from the shelf. There’s a hint of a smile from Steve when he does it. Which is a win, probably.

“Yeah, that trick shot was fucking killer,” Tommy praises, teeth shining. And yeah, Billy thinks he’s cute but his eyes are drawn back to Harrington.

“Thanks,” Billy offers, soaping his dick up before he puts the bar back. Steve snatches it quick and then soaps his own dick up. It’s an offering, of some kind. He’s eager to have their teammates vanish. Wants to be alone with Harrington and quick.

The two of them linger a little too long, hopeful they’re not being obvious. Coach left long ago, they shower quietly until the chatter in the locker room disappears. Fingertips and toes gone pruny. And then Billy makes his move, steps into the stream of Steve’s shower and their eyes meet.

“What did your girlfriend want?” Billy asks, ignoring the way his cocks filling out by the close proximity of Steve’s cock.

Steve swallow hard, averts his eyes but answers, “She wanted to know why I didn’t pick her up this morning.”

“Why didn’t you?” Billy wonders, blinking slowly at Steve.

“She dumped me,” he huffs with disdain.

“And the thanks? What was that for?”

“Last night… I… it helped me take my mind off her,” Steve mumbles, eyes dropping.

Billy grins, licks against his teeth as he hooks his fingers under Steve’s chin, pulls the boys face toward his own, “Told you I would make you feel better than she could.”

“But—“ Steve swallows, “You just left and I…”

“What? Wanted cuddles?” Billy laughs, “it was fun. And that’s what it will be. If we ya know, keep doing it. I’m not a chick and either are you, last time I checked.”

He looks down, seeing Harrington’s cock is also standing like his. “I don’t do feelings, Harrington. And maybe you shouldn’t either. Since you’re such a bitch for some average looking tail.”

“I love her,” Steve argues, eyebrows knitting in a way that has Billy jealous beyond belief.

Billy frown, full of condescension when he says, “And where the hell did that get you?”

Steve looks a little taken aback. Like Billy said something wise and not something basked in bitterness.

“We can make each other feel good. Why would we fuck it up with feelings?” Billy asks, looking up at Steve under thick lashes.

“Yeah,” Harrington breathes out and Billy’s reaching down to grab his cock. The brunette elicits the sweetest, softest yelp and Billy can’t help but break a rule he’s set for himself, crashing his lips into Harrington’s.

Because Billy loves kissing. Likes it filthy and sloppy. Makes his head swim when they lick against each other’s tongues between heady moans. Sex is sex. They’re here for a means, regardless of sexuality, they both just wanna get off. Because fuck, his heads going empty ‘cause he can feel Harrington’s cock twitch in his hand and there’s a shared desperation here when their eyes meet again. If Billy can offer a distraction from Wheeler, he’ll take it. Anything to get Steve Harrington making these sweet sounds and bucking into his fist.

“Be quiet,” Billy warns before he’s stepping closer to press his cock against Steve’s, adjusting his hand so he’s got them both in his grip, “You don’t wanna get caught, do you?”

Steve shakes his head, reaching his hands up to grab Billy’s shoulders. Billy catches Steve’s lower lip in his teeth while he jerks them off in his hand. It’s a desperate yet lazy kiss. Steve keeps whimpering into it and Billy’s a bit lovestruck. And Christ, he loves the way their cocks slide together easily, precum drooling from their tips. It’s all slippery and so good and Billy can’t stop licking every crevice of Steve’s mouth as they thrust into his fist. It’s so delicious, so filthy. It’s… slippery from the shower. His minds hazy enough to tell Harrington, “Holy shit, you’re so fucking hot.”

And he’s whiny when he says it, desperation dripping off his words because truly, he means it. Harrington looks like a god damn dream, glassy brown eyes and fuck, his lips parted and so pink. Looking at Billy likes he’s a veteran porn star, and he could be with the heat he’s packing and that look on his face. He’s begging for it, just with his eyes. And Billy wants nothing more than to give it to him.

Billy wants to die for Harrington. It’s a sick thought he can’t let himself dwell on. Daddy up and moved them for a reason. Another boy with floppy chestnut hair and sad eyes.

“Fucking hate you,” Billy mumbles, not sure if it’s meant towards Steve or the memory. He squeezes their cocks when he says it though. ‘Cause he does hate him and he does hate the way he aches for this. Hates the way his heads all wrong and hates how he needs to act on it.

Steve kisses him then, bruising like it’s punishment for telling Steve he hates him. Or a test? Billy can’t let the kiss go further, it’s too delicious and dangerous. So he pushes Steve back and spits on his parted lips. An assault, but he’s stunned when Steve’s tongue darts out to gather the saliva and bucks his hips up at Billy’s fist. The slide of their cocks is incredible and it’s so good that heat is pooling in his stomach rapidly, so he closes his eyes tight and bares his teeth because if he looks down at their cocks or up at Harrington’s face he’s gonna blow his load.

And then Harrington’s making this pathetic fucking sound and it’s even more wet and Billy has to open his eyes, has to look down and sees Harrington’s spilled and it’s all over his fist and the tip of his cock and Billy grunts, body heaving as he shoots his spunk next. He rests his head on Harrington’s shoulder for a beat. Then he rinses himself off and reaches for his towel. He wraps it around his waist and he’s about to walk off.

The softest words from Harrington have him turning around and asking, “Huh?”

Big, downturned brown eyes look to him and Steve says louder, “I fucking hate you, too.”

It warms Billy’s chest for some god awful reason, so he smiles, maybe even blushes a little, “Hate you more, King Steve.”

Wishes he could stick around longer, but Max has got to be out waiting by his Camaro by now. He doesn’t wanna risk coming home too late. And he’ll see Harrington tomorrow. Looks forward to it.

—UR FIRST TIME WITH THE BIG TR MEN ୨ ︎ˎ-

TAIJU, SOUTH, TAKEOMI, DRAKEN ˖*°࿐

18+, sizekink, virginity loss, short hc's, i put takeomi and draken in the Mix just bc, agegap (with takeomi ofc), corruption kink(?), use of 'daddy', creampie, breeding, choking, unprotected, implied chubby reader, overstimulation, oral, fingering, doggy, belly bulge, huge fat cocks, alm characters are over 18, readers skin color is not mentioned

-> TAIJU

Taiju would be surprisingly soft and gentle for the first time. I mean he didn't say anything but it's his first time too, because of his morals he never went further than kissing, except with you.

He wouldn't talk too much, (because this big baby is still hung up about your beautiful and soft body) he would mostly grunt and curse. But if you talked to him and called him dirty things like 'daddy' oh that would make him talk

He definitely cums pretty fast for his first time, but don't even think he would stop so quickly, mans got stamina for days-

Knows when he Hits the right spots and continues to abuse them, he wants you to enjoy this as much as he does and make you cum till your abdomen hurts and the whole bed is drenched with your addicting pussy Juice.

When he feels himself cumming, he would pull out just to slip his fingers inside of your pussy. Gets even more hard at how easily they just slide past your wet pussy lips. Starts to eat you out till you cum just so he can fuck you again and make you cum on his cock this time

No Breaks, he doesn't allow it. If you wanna stop he'll stop of course. But he couldn't take you laying on your back all sweaty and breathing heavily, face cutely flushed and completely dazed, legs spread and dripping with his kids. That would just make him go harder on you. (If that's even possible)

-> SOUTH

His heart just fucking explodes when your smaller body clings onto his chest and you look up at him asking "can we have sex?" You look so innocent and valuable like he shouldn't even be touching you.

Preps you real good before plowing you right then and there on his living room couch, he loves kissing your soft thighs and making out with your soft and fat pussy lips, already forgot what he was supposed to do until you began tugging on his hair after your fourth orgasm.

You beg him to let you suck his dick, he tells you that you dont have to worry about him but you squish your cheek against his bulge while looking up at him begging "pleaaase~" such a brat..

He asks you how you want it. you just lay down, face down ass up and spread your pussy lips with your fingers in response. That's all he needs to know really.

Seeing you present yourself like that makes his cock ache and throb in his boxers, do you know how long he dreamt of this? Of this exact moment??

Starts off slow and sweet after he lets you adjust, but quickly speeds up.

Reaches around to play with your pretty clit and grabs your soft tummy as he fucks you like a dog in heat and gushes about how "you're such a good girl fr me, hm? Pussy's takin' it so good, baby"

After he makes you cum and leak all over him he pulls out to stroke his throbbing cock over your ass but you start to whine and beg "p-please- put it back it, southee~" "but I'm gonna cum..you don't want that inside you...right?" The thought of his cum dripping from your pussy actually excited him and thank god you agreed "mh- w-want it! Please just..put it back in!"

-> TAKEOMI

You visit him at his office at the bottom hideout just to climb over his desk and then slide onto his lap and kiss him, omi is very taken aback by this and was about to ask what you were doing but you already answered it by kissing his neck and mumbling that "I wanna get fucked, daddy.."

You don't even care about prepping even though takeomi tries to finger you..you just stand up, take your panties off and play around with his belt till you finally got it open.

Takeomi watches as you sink your tight virgin cunt down onto his big cock stuttering "y-you really don't wanna prepare first?" You're already crying a bit but it feels too good to stop

And tekeomi obviously won't stop you! He has waited for this for so long, to have the prettiest woman on his cock..but even though he worried a bit if your small pussy could even take it..he was also beyond horny right now

After you got his whole length inside you, you put both of your feet back onto the ground to start hopping up and down on his cock. Takeomi could do nothing but watch as you used his cock. And don't get him wrong..he fuckin' loved it

Takeomi didn't expect you to fuck him dumb for your first time, he was drooling and grabbing anything he could to try not to cum as you used him for both of your pleasure

You suddenly started fucking him harder and cried out louder as you came all over him, making takeomi beg you to pull out or else he'll cum inside "n-no, daddy! Cum inside! F-fill your pussy Real good~"

-> DRAKEN

How could he deny your cute ass asking him to fuck you? He couldn't even if he wanted to.

Is a pussy eating champ, it's his favorite thing to do, especially with you, his angel of a girlfriend. Definitely grabs your thighs or Lifts you up by the hips so he can just smother his face between your soft thighs and pussy

After he's done making you cum, he kisses you and massages your already sore thighs and whispers "want me to fuck you against the wall, babe?"

Holds you up against the wall, your tits pressed against his Abs with your nails dug into his back as he bottoms out, he's so big that you feel like you're gonna cum just from him sliding inside, asks "is it okay fr me to move now?" While he caresses your ass and thighs

Is slow and soft until you ask him to go faster, and when he does..he already got you clenching and screaming his name

Makes you cum multiple times before he cums deep inside of you, it feels like he is all the way inside your tummy

Run Little Red (Namjoon x Reader)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Werewolf Namjoon, Stalking, Obsession, Forced Relationships, Blood (Lots of it), Gore, Fear, Panic/Anxiety, Discussions of discovering dead bodies, People going missing, Devious Intentions, Depictions of Guns, Mourning, Wolf Courtship Rituals

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 

<<Forbidden Fables Masterlist>>

Preview:  A calm life in a small village was all you ever knew, your days spent in the bakery and keeping to yourself. You liked the quiet and gentle nature of your life, but one day a wolf stands outside of your window, a stranger arrives, and people begin to go missing. Do you dare don your red coat and enter the forest?

A/N: Hello babes! My fellow authors and myself decided to change up the order of our release dates for our Forbidden Fables Collab! And, since I recently finished this little beauty, I get to release it first. yay! Now I can sit back and savor the delectable writings of my fellow authors 💜 I hope you enjoy Run Little Red it was fun to make! I can’t wait to read the comments and asks 💜

There was a wolf outside your window. 

It’s eyes gleaming in the early morning light like molten gold with silver fur that melted into the snow. 

You sat up in bed, wrapping your patchwork quilt around your shoulders as you scooted to the foot of the bed. It was staring at you, that much you were sure of. And that startled you, the almost human like appearance to its gaze was intense and unsettling. It was an animal, but it appeared to be far more intelligent than you had first anticipated. 

Maybe it was hungry, perhaps that was why it was so intent on peering through your window.

No, it certainly wasn’t, that was evident. What you had missed before was glaringly obvious now, its silver muzzle was stained in red. It had made a fresh kill before it had wandered over to your cottage mere feet from the woods. 

So, if it wasn’t hungry, why was it here?

You watched in morbid fascination as its tongue slipped out of its mouth and laved over the fresh, thick, crimson blood that decorated its muzzle. You could see the rows of sharp canines hidden within its maw for mere seconds before the wolf clenched its jaw shut and settled on its hindlegs in the drift of snow.

“My, what big teeth you have.” You whispered to yourself, your voice seemingly louder in the empty room.  

You couldn’t help but wonder what it had made it’s meal. Perhaps a deer, or a squirrel, maybe a bird, or even a small, innocent, little rabbit. 

That would have been ideal. But, you knew it was most likely one of the poor farmer’s livestock. Your village was small and self sufficient, rarely reaching out to its neighboring villages and rarely receiving visitors of its own. So, when the cattle and the goats began to disappear, only their entrails remaining, the town quickly became suspicious. 

It was either one of two things, rebellious teenagers making a hassle for everyone, or a wolf amongst you.   

If only you had known what was to come. 

You stared back warily out the window at the creature, suddenly realizing just how easily it could bust through your flimsy window if it wanted to. This wolf was probably the largest you had ever seen, it was almost the size of a pony, with long limbs that held thick muscle from the time it spent chasing down its prey. You were certain a simple snap of its jaws would kill you in an instant if it desired to do so. 

It’s gaze had not left you, petrifying you to your very spot. You felt like the two of you were playing a game, waiting to see who would be the one to make the first move. 

The call of your mother’s voice was the tie breaker. 

You rose to your feet, your bare skin brushing over the cool wood of the floor as you retreated through your door, back first. 

“Yes?” You replied, angling your neck to the hallway for a moment. 

“Hurry, sweetheart! You’re going to be late!” She called back from the kitchen. 

The bakery had been in your family for the past three generations now, starting with your grandfather, then your mother, and now you. Your mother was showing signs of her age now, her hands were unsteady and unreliable creating more of a mess than a sellable meal. So, it was your turn now. It was the only thing you could do for her, besides be married off and you weren’t quite ready for that. No one was. 

At least that was the gentle way of putting it, in reality you had made yourself quite the social pariah. You were a determined woman, one who liked to keep to herself, one who liked owning the bakery and not having to sign over the ownership to a husband. You had your mother to care for, a business to run, and a grandmother that lived deep in the woods to fret over. 

It didn’t really matter what you wanted, you did what was necessary to stay afloat. 

“Just a minute!” You called once more before slinking back into your room. 

There was a noticeable difference about the space now, the wolf was gone. The only sign he had ever been there being the large dip in the snow that his form had disrupted and a track of paw prints headed into the forest. How strange. 

You shook your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts, you didn’t want to think about what you would have to do if the creature returned. The shotgun looming over you from above the front door said enough.

You couldn’t allow a predator to get comfy around your home, that would only invite trouble into your life.

You dressed yourself quickly that morning in as many layers as you could. The walk to the bakery wasn’t a far one, but it was a frigid one. You made sure to wear your wool stockings and your leather boots, the snow looked to be thick and you didn’t fancy the idea of wet feet all day while you worked. 

You leaned over the side of your bed, scooping up your bag and throwing the keys inside of it in one motion. The extra sleep you had gotten the night before had cost you the time you needed in the morning to ready yourself. 

Once you gave yourself a quick look over and ran through your mental checklist, you rushed out of your room and into the main room of the house. Your house was more like a cottage, it was incredibly small. With only your mother’s room, your room, and the kitchen in one corner with the fireplace in the other it made for a quaint and cozy home. Albeit a cramped one. 

“Your breakfast is on the table.” Your mother said, smoothing a stray hair behind her ear with trembling hands. 

You could see her cleaning up the mess she had made that morning in an attempt to show you kindness. Normally, you were the one to wake early and prepare the both of you for the day ahead. But she had also told you many times before that she was your mother and she was supposed to take care of you as well. 

You eyed the bowl of steaming porridge that sat upon the rickety table. “I don’t think I’ll have the time to eat it.”

“Then you’ll make the time.” She huffed, wiping a wet rag over the counter in two swipes. 

“I shouldn’t have overslept.” You sighed, resting your bag on the floor as you took a seat. 

“You needed the rest, dear. You’re up every morning at the crack of dawn and you don’t come home until nightfall. You don’t need to work that much.” She chided you, smoothing her hands over your hair in a fond manner. 

“I do, for you and for Grandmother.” You reminded her. The cost of living was not cheap. 

“And what about you? You should be spending time with people your age, not working yourself to the bone.”

“I don’t need anyone but you, and Grandmother.” You smiled before sipping at your spoon quickly, hissing as you burned the tip of your tongue in your haste. 

“Youth is wasted on the young.” She chided under her breath, spurring a giggle from your throat. 

You finished your food as quickly as you could before excusing yourself from the table and heading for the door. 

“Your cloak, dear!” Your mother called as you pulled the door open, the chill of the snow seeping into your bones. 

“Yes, mother!” You chirped with an amused roll of your eyes as you curled your fingers around the crimson fabric of the cloak. Your grandmother had made it herself two winters ago, as much as you loved it and her you had to admit it was a tad ostentatious and you weren’t exactly one for attention. But it was warm and it served its purpose well. 

The door creaked shut behind you, squeaking softly as it settled back into the frame. The snow had fallen much higher than you had previously anticipated. You tightened the ties of your cloak and delicately flipped the large hood over your head before gripping your layers of skirts and hiking them up as you began your journey. 

It was rather slippery that day, you couldn’t restrain the slight squeals that fell from your parted lips each time the heel of your boot found a patch of ice and sent you sliding. You were certain you should have caught the attention of a few passerbys, but to your surprise a large group of them had become preoccupied. 

There were about fourteen of them, all in one great circle fervently discussing something. They seemed to be worried, panicked even. It had caught your attention now that the group was made up mostly of men excluding the butcher’s wife and daughter. Both’s cheeks were stained red, their eyes brimming with unshed tears as they held onto each other tight in the crisp air. 

Your face tensed in confusion as you approached the bakery, the group not too far away from you. 

“Oh, poor Sarah.” A tender voice cooed worriedly from next door. It was the tailor, she and her apprentice were stood outside, thick shawls wrapped around the both of them. 

You occupied yourself by rifling through your leather satchel, pretending to look for the shop keys you held in that very hand. You knew that eavesdropping wasn’t very polite, but you also were the curious sort, and that curiosity demanded to be satiated. 

“Don’t worry, miss. I’m sure they’ll find him soon, you know how the young ones are.” The apprentice said, her hand resting on the tailor’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort. 

“It’s not like William though, he’s a sweet boy. It doesn’t make any sense for him to go up and missing at the crack of dawn.” She replied, her dark eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I just find it funny is all, that a stranger shows up here the same day that Sarah’s boy disappears.”

“Coincidence isn’t evidence.” The apprentice hummed, pulling her shawl tighter around herself  as she began to back up against the shop door, aggravated by the chilly air. “I’m sure he’ll turn up, with a search party that size he’ll be back home in no time.”

With that, you finally retrieved your “missing” keys and unlocked the door, sliding into the safety of the bakery. You knew William as well, he really was a sweet kid...to most. Your heart did go out to Sarah though, you didn’t know the pain of a missing child but you could empathize. The sight of her broken face remained burned into your mind as you readied the shop, lighting the hearth and preparing your materials to start your first batch of bread for the day. Your late start was going to nip you in the behind, most of the women arrived by noon to get their first pick of goods and the two hours it would take to make your batches was going to loom over your head the entire time. 

You were mid kneading your dough when the familiar tinkle of the bell above the shop door demanded your attention. You paused for a moment, your aching arms thanking you for the short reprieve. Almost immediately your breath was caught in your throat. You had been expecting one of the regular mothers wandering their way in, or perhaps even one of their children running errands. Not this man that stood before you. 

This was most obviously the stranger the tailor had been referring to moments earlier, there was no mistake. Your village was small, everyone knew everyone and this stranger looked nothing like any of the people in your town. 

He was so much taller than anybody else, broader too. But most astonishing was his pure silver hair and the deep honey shade of his eyes. You had never seen anyone as young as him with hair that light, it surely wasn’t grey, the shade far too bright to be mistaken with something that dull. He was damn near ethereal and unfairly attractive. His looks had almost distracted you from his attire but now that you were paying attention, he was severely underdressed for the weather. He had to be freezing cold. 

“Hello, can I help you?” You asked softly, patting your hands against your apron to remove the excess flour from your skin. 

He had a rather confident stance, like he was the owner of the shop instead of you, you who was slightly cowering and thrumming with anxiety. 

He sent you a wide grin, his teeth were pearly white and for some unknown reason that sent your heart crashing into your stomach. You could have sworn they even looked slightly pointy at the ends, not unlike those of the creature you had seen outside your window that morning. You had almost been distracted by the sweet dimples that rested in his cheeks. What duality he had. 

He tilted his head back slightly, peering down at you from above, “Hm, I’m looking for something sweet.” He hummed. 

“Sweet?” You mumbled to yourself, resting your hand on your hip in thought.

“Oh! I made some sweet rolls yesterday, how about that?” You said with a snap of your fingers, retreating further into the shop without a response from him. 

Now in work mode you busied yourself with preparing the stranger’s order. You couldn’t help but wonder why he had arrived, what his reason for being there was. Barely anybody passed through your village, and they certainly didn’t stay as long as he had. 

Once you had retrieved the tray of rolls you set them on the counter before grabbing a pot of freshly warmed icing and gently drizzling it over top. Once each roll had been thoroughly coated, you set the pot aside and headed to the cupboard to retrieve a bag for them.  

“Perfect.” You sighed in irritation, craning your neck back to see the top of the shelf. 

Normally, you had endless amounts of bags and never needed the ones stored on the top shelf. But this winter had been far more difficult than past ones and your stock had not been refilled in quite a while. 

Desperately not wanting to search for your wooden stool, you stubbornly resorted to balancing on the tips of your toes, your fingers just barely brushing against the material of the bags. You groaned in frustration, bouncing up slightly only to knock the bags back further on the shelf and worsen the ache in your shoulder. 

Just as you were about to give up and resort to looking for your rickety stool, you felt a hand settle on your waist and a chest press against your back as the stranger reached up and grabbed the bags for you. He was incredibly warm, so warm you thought he may even be sick. He felt as warm as the heat emanating from a fire of fresh coals and that was incredibly alarming, but also explained his state of dress.

You flinched in surprise as you felt him set the bags aside and settle his other hand on your shoulder. It was deathly quiet, the only sounds being his slow, steady breaths underlying your panicked ones accompanied by the calm rise and fall of his chest against your back. You had never been this close to anyone before, it was incredibly uncomfortable. 

You felt much like a rabbit, cornered, panicking, and believing that if you stayed still enough he wouldn’t see you and would go away. 

He gently rested his forehead against your hair, nuzzling from side to side before reaching up and playing with a stray strand. You could feel him taking a deeper breath this time, humming softly like he was pleased. 

“Sweet.” He mumbled to himself. 

Oh. Oh, no. Who did this man think he was? You were not on the menu. You shuddered in fear before jerking away, smacking his hands off of you. 

You turned on your heel, backing away from him as you fixed him with an annoyed glare. The look he gave you was one of clear confusion, a layer of hurt and frustration buried beneath. 

“I’m not sure how things work where you come from, but normally you ask for permission before you go touching someone you don’t know.” You huffed, slamming the empty bag on the counter as you began to package the rolls. 

It didn’t matter if he was attractive or not, you were not going to let him touch you as he pleased or get the wrong message that you weren’t even conveying in the first place. 

The stranger rounded the counter, the block of wood effectively separating the two of you, making you feel a little safer. His eyes looked darker than before, less like honey and more like amber. 

His confident demeanor had returned, effectively confusing you even more. 

“Forgive me,” He said, another smile gracing his lips as he rested his forearms on the countertop, “It seems we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot? My name is Namjoon, and yours?” 

So, he did have the capability to be somewhat of a gentleman. He was rather well spoken, and his strange mannerisms and quiet demeanor had all but disappeared in a flash. 

So, begrudgingly, you replied with your name. 

He repeated it after you, his tongue swiping over the full flesh of his lower lip like he was tasting it, sending a chill down your spine. 

“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, you were correct in assuming where I come from we do greetings a little differently.” He said with a soft chuckle, his amber eyes tracing every movement you made. 

You did feel a little bad now for how you had lashed out at him. Normally, you weren’t one who was quick to anger, but that still didn’t excuse what he had done. 

“It’s alright,” You said, slowly, “You need to be more careful though, if that had been anyone else I don’t think you would have gone unscathed.” 

“Are most of your people so quick to violence?” He asked, titling his head slowly, a strong sense of intrigue exuding from his form. 

“I wouldn’t say so normally, but we’re all a little on edge as of late. Our livestock has been attacked and just this morning one of us went missing.”

“Missing?” He asked, a new glow to eyes. 

“Yes, I’m afraid so. The butcher’s son hasn’t been seen all day, it’s very unlike him.” You said, your teeth sinking into your lower lip, unsure if you should tell him more. But, considering it concerned him you felt maybe it was in his best interest to tell him. 

“If I were you, I wouldn’t stick around for too long. Some find it suspicious you turned up the same day that William went missing.” 

“And what if I don’t feel like leaving just yet?” He asked, disregarding the information you had just given him as if he had no reason to be worried. 

You had no answer for him, truly you didn’t. The packaged rolls sat between the two of you and a long stretch of silence as he stared at you and waited for a response that didn’t come. And, without another word, he dropped a few too many coins on the counter, gathered up the bag, and headed for the front door. 

He stopped for only a moment, his fingers gently stroking at your red cloak you had hung up beside the door. His amber gaze trailed over each stitch as he lightly grazed the material a few more times. 

“I’ll be seeing you soon, little red.” 

~~~~~~~

After he had left, your day had not gotten any easier. Just as you had expected, it had been another busy day. You had managed to satisfy all of your customers, despite that late start you had made. 

There were a few upsides to the job you had, one being that it allowed you to tune into any gossip you would normally miss out on. You were more of a hit with the older women of the village, the people your age finding you to be a tad strange and off putting. 

That day your shop had been filled with hushed whispers of what had come to pass, the search party still had not returned from their trip to recover William. The outlook was not in the boy’s favor, not with the increase in predator activity you had been receiving as of late. You weren’t so sure you would be seeing William walking back into town any time soon. 

Once the day had come to an end, the sun dipping just below the tree line and casting shades of red over the snow, you had extinguished the lights of your shop and were locking up, your hood drawn over your head. That was when you found out the horrible truth. 

As you slid the shop keys into your bag and turned on your heel, you saw the search party emerging from the woods. And with them, you could see a blanketed form lying in the snow, the sheet swaddling the body slowing turning red. 

You swallowed harshly, turning as quickly as you could and beginning to make your way through the snow and away from what you knew was coming. You didn’t want to see the look on Sarah’s face, you didn’t want to watch her go boneless in the arms of her husband. But it didn’t matter what you saw or didn’t see, you would never forget the sound of her screams piercing the crisp, snowy air.

Your breath was visible in hot puffs in front of your face as you felt the burn of tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. It didn’t matter if you didn’t care for William, it didn’t matter if you knew what he was really like, there was nothing quite like the sound of a mother’s heartbreak. It was enough to send anybody down to their knees. 

Your numb fingers wiped away the warm tears rushing down your cheeks, and amidst your blurry vision you could have sworn you saw a familiar figure slinking off into the woods, a flash of silver hair that just barely materialized. You could have sworn that that was Namjoon disappearing like a ghost into the frigid depths of the forest. 

You shook your head, you shouldn’t bother yourself with what he was doing, your main goal should be getting home before the sun completely dips below the horizon and plunges you into darkness. So, with that thought, you rushed home. 

Once you entered the cottage, things didn’t get any better. Your mother was stood there, waiting anxiously for your arrival. As soon as you had stepped foot inside she whipped the door shut and helped you remove your cloak as you toed your boots off. 

“No more working late, do you hear me?” She said, gripping your shoulders to get you to look at her. “It’s not safe out there.”

“Word travels fast then?” You asked humorlessly. 

“It’s a shame what happened to that boy, and I’ll be damned if that happens to you.” She replied sternly. 

“And what about Grandmother then? What do we do about her? She’s out there, all alone, with no one to protect her.”

“She has the lumberjack-”

“And he only checks on her every two weeks.” You interrupted, “Let me go out tomorrow and bring her back to us. I’ll go first thing in the morning.”

Your mother bit her lip, her hands shakily settling on her hips as she thought to herself. “I’ll go with you then.”

“No, you can’t possibly think you’ll be able to make the trip. The snow is thick and it’s a long walk there, you’ll exhaust yourself. It’ll be better if I go, faster too.” You said as you approached the fireplace, raising your hands to the flames to warm them. 

“And your grandmother, you think she’ll be able to make it back through the snow?” She probed, raising her eyebrow. 

She had a point, if you were saying she wouldn’t be able to make it there how would you expect your grandmother to make it back with you? 

You rested your hand on the back of your neck, pacing the floor and causing your layers of skirts to swirl around your ankles. You came to a sudden stop, your eyes settling on the shotgun that was mounted above your front door. Idea.

You didn’t like the thought of her being out there all alone, but if you knew she had something to protect her from the wild animals that would make you feel much better. 

“Alright, what if I bring her some supplies instead? I’ll grab some things that’ll last her a good while and I’ll show her how to use the shotgun. I’ve saved up some money of my own, I could purchase us a new one.” You mused out loud.

You loved your grandmother, she was the last living member of your father’s side of the family, she was the only connection you had to him at this point. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing her just yet, not when you could prevent it from those creatures that were beginning to terrorize your people. 

Your mother was silent once more, her thumb settled between her lips as she nervously chewed at the nail. She didn’t like the idea of you headed out into the woods alone, but she was comforted by the thought of you taking the shotgun with you, that much you were certain of. 

“We don’t know when the next storm will hit, and the last thing we need is for her to be stuck out there, all alone, with no food, surrounded by the wild. Let me go.”

And that was enough to break her resilience. 

“Promise me, promise me that you’ll come back.” She whispered, her body visibly sagging as those words left her lips. 

“It goes without saying.” You murmured, wrapping her up in your embrace. 

It was easier this way, you didn’t want to make a promise you had no certainty in keeping. 

The air in the cottage had lost all tension, everything was much calmer than before. But your peace could only last for so long. It was when you entered your bedroom that you realized something else was wrong.

The room was positively frigid, and upon further inspection you realized that your window had been pried open, the cold winter air surging forth and snuffing out any traces of heat. 

You surged forward and grasped the window, attempting to swing it shut as quickly as you could to try and insulate whatever warmth was left. But the thick scent of copper quickly stalled your movements. Instead of closing the window, you found yourself leaning forward into the brisk air, sniffing intently as you tried to make out where the scent was emanating from. You didn’t have to look far.

Your hands sealed themselves over your mouth, smothering the scream that threatened to break through them. 

Sitting in the snow where the wolf had once laid, was a human heart. The snow seemed to sizzle around it, the organ still warm and slick with blood that carved rivers and valleys into the pure ice. 

You could feel bile rising up your throat, your vision shaking so violently it made it appear that the heart was vibrating with steady pumps like it was still alive. 

And, to your horror, you could make out a form a few feet back in the snow. The only thing that was visible in the pitch black were it’s molten gold eyes, shining back at you in recognition before it scuttled away into the darkness.

You frantically slammed the window shut and drew the curtains closed tight. 

There was no mistake now, someone or something had been following you. 

~~~~~~~

When you awoke the next morning from a restless sleep, you elected to keep your discovery to yourself.

Although you were incredibly frightened by what you had seen, the last thing you needed was to scare your already frail mother. Your grandmother was still in need of assistance, and you couldn’t allow your mother to halt your plans. You had a mission to accomplish, and you were set on completing it with a shotgun slung over your arm and a picnic basket on the other. 

So, you shakily grasped your red cloak and wrapped it around your shoulders in haste, your fingers struggling to do up the ties at the base of your throat. Once you had completed the normally easy task, you slipped your basket onto the inside of your elbow and pulled down the shotgun from its resting place above the door. 

You regularly cleaned it, a task your father had enjoyed teaching you at a young age, so you were certain it wouldn’t jam if you needed to use it in a hurry. You slid a box of ammunition into your pocket, one for you, and another box into the picnic basket, one for your grandmother. 

And then you were off, bidding your mother goodbye with a hug and a swift kiss to her cheek, and an unspoken promise tittering on the edges of your lips saying that you would be home for supper. But those words were better left unspoken. 

The sun was just barely peeking through the thick clouds overhead, you were certain a blizzard was brewing. This only urged you to move quicker through the cleared paths. 

But the clouds weren’t the only foreboding message that morning, it was the mother’s wailing in the town square. There were three more now, holding each other in a comforting manner as they wept into each other’s shoulders. 

More children had been snatched from their mothers.

Sarah sat by herself, of her own volition, an obsidian mourning veil obscuring her tear stained features. A chill ran down your back as you urged yourself to walk by them quicker, she looked more like an executioner than she did a mourner, surrounded by a choir of weeping women. 

You could still hear the echoes of her cries in the back of your mind, the raw chords striking your ears once more. 

You tightened your grip on the strap of your shotgun, your pace slowing as you reached the bridge that led you into the forest. You felt like you could breathe now, despite the knowledge that people your own age had lost their lives in the thick overgrowth before you. The relief that you felt from the women in the square outweighed your fear.

The bridge creaked in protest as your boots tapped against the wood. It would need to be repaired come spring. 

“Little red!” A voice called from the treeline causing you to suddenly stop, snow kicking up beneath your boots. 

Moments later, a familiar figure emerged from the frost coated trees, tall, ash hair, and honey eyes. Namjoon. 

“Where are you off to, little red?” He cooed, his voice low with a sultry edge that sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t tell if they were delighted or terrified chills. 

“My grandmother’s, what are you doing here?” You asked, your body tense and defensive. 

He drew nearer now, a wide grin gracing his lips with a set of teeth so white they resembled the snow beneath your boots. The closer he got the more you noticed about him. His perfect white teeth seemed a little sharper than most, and the clothes he wore were once more, not suited for the frigid weather. 

“I caught sight of this old thing,” He hummed, his finger tracing over your cloak and the strap of your shotgun as he slowly circled you, “And couldn’t help but see you.”

You stepped back hesitantly, his presence was unnerving. Without saying anything more you pulled away from his reach and began to walk by him briskly, headed into the woods. 

“Leaving so soon? We only just met.” He laughed, it would have been a nice contagious laughter had you not heard the bitter edge to it. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have the time to dawdle, Namjoon. I need to reach her before the storm hits.”

“Well then, won’t you let me accompany you?”

“I don’t need an escort, I know my way just fine, thank you very much.” 

“And what about the beasts then?” He asked from beside you, sending you halting to a stop. 

“Beasts?” You asked slowly, gazing up at him from beneath the cover of your hood. 

“Well, surely you know?” He asked in a patronizing tone, his honey eyes narrowing. “Four people from your village have gone missing, red. Surely you know that wasn’t an accident. Great beasts have roamed this forest for centuries and they don’t take kindly to intruders. It would be much safer if I came with you.”

You stood there for a moment in silence, contemplating his words. He was not wrong, two people were much safer than just one. 

So, begrudgingly, you accepted his offer. 

His hand quickly captured your own, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pressed his side tightly to your own with a grin. How bold. You were struck once more by the fact that he was incredibly warm, it was no wonder why he wasn’t bundled up like you were. It felt like he had struck a fever. 

Namjoon filled the silence between the two of you surprisingly well, telling you stories of the great beasts that roamed the woods, effectively scaring you and holding your attention. He had a way of speaking that drew people in, like a siren from the stories your father had read to you. 

It was easy to forget with him, easy to forget why you had been frightened in the first place, easy to sink into his side as his warmth seeped into your flesh, and easy to get lost in his voice. 

That was of course, until you felt him pulling you off of the path. 

You dug your heels into the snow, tugging at his hand violently. “Namjoon!”

“Yes?” He asked.

“What are you doing? Her cottage is this way, we stay on the path, we never leave the path.” You said, gesturing towards the dirt pathway beneath the two of you. 

That was a spoken rule in your village, never go off of the path. 

“That’s ridiculous,” He chuckled, “If we continue the way you were going, that doubles the time it takes to get there, it’s better we take the shortcut.”

“No.” You sternly said. 

“And why not?”

“Because, there’s predators out there! Mountain lions, bears, wolves!”

A mischievous smirk pulled at the corners of his lips, “Are you scared of wolves, little red?”

“I’m scared of anything that wants to eat me.” You replied with a dry tone. 

“Well you do smell very sweet-”

“Namjoon!”

He took a deep breath, his eyes darting between you and the shortcut. “I promise you, nothing will hurt you while I’m here. Besides, did you know some flowers bloom in the winter?”

“What? You can’t be serious.”

“I am, there’s a field of flowers this way, all different breeds that bloom in the dead of winter. Don’t you think your grandmother would enjoy those?” 

You chewed at your lip uneasily. He knew exactly what to say to make you question your own actions. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to see what he was talking about, and you knew that yes, your grandmother would be elated by something so cheery in the bleak winter months. 

So, after a few moments of consideration, you agreed.

And Namjoon had not been lying. After a few minutes of trekking through the deep snow the two of you emerged into a clearing, and just like he said, it was filled with flowers of all different breeds. 

You found yourself crouching down into the field, your fingers trailing over each velvety petal that had somehow found a way to survive in the clutches of an icy death. Your favorites were the deep red roses. They were a dead match for your cloak, a beautiful color that was delicately dusted with soft flakes of snow. 

You couldn’t help but greedily pluck several blossoms from the foliage, slipping them into your basket. 

And, amidst your excitement, you hadn’t noticed just how close your companion had gotten until you felt him. That incredible warmth had returned as he crouched down behind you, and just like he had in the bakery, you felt him lightly nuzzling your head and breathing in your scent as he pressed himself closer to you, his arms winding around your body in an attempt to pull you even tighter to him. 

You froze, your finger mid pull on the rose’s stem causing you to slice the appendage on a stray thorn. You hissed in pain as you watched the blood drip from the tip of your finger before rolling down your wrist and carving a pool into the snow beneath you. 

And, without a thought, Namjoon’s hand encircled your wrist and yanked it up to his face. 

His once honey eyes appeared brighter than before, his long lashes fluttering as his warm breath misted over your skin. And before you could stop him, he licked a line up your wrist, collecting the blood, and pressed your finger to his lips swiping his tongue over the wound. 

You yelped in surprise, wrenching your hand free from his grip as your heart pounded violently. You rose to your feet and stumbled backwards through the snow. 

Namjoon remained where he was crouched, a sudden hunger evident in his honey gaze, a gaze that was not so unfamiliar. 

“We-we need to go!” You stuttered, turning on your heel and retreating from whatever had just happened. 

You held your hand close to your chest as you walked, frightened by what had just transpired. A part of you suddenly wished you had made your journey alone as you had previously intended.

But the harsh crunch of snow behind you reminded you of the choice you made, and the molten glare digging into your back exemplified it. 

~~~~~~~

The rest of your journey was made in complete silence, a new tension had settled between the two of you. And, true to Namjoon’s word, the way he had taken you was indeed a shortcut. So, you felt no remorse as you sprinted toward the cottage ahead of you and threw a weak thank you over your shoulder. 

You couldn’t stand the awkward tension anymore, you couldn’t stand being in his presence any longer than you needed to. 

As soon as you approached the front door, you threw it open and let it shut behind you. You leaned against the door for a moment to catch your breath before you shrugged the shotgun off of your shoulder and strung it up on the hook beside the front door. 

“Grandmother!” You called as you began to approach the kitchen door, “I’m here!”

And upon opening it, a blood curdling scream broke free from your lips. 

The sight before you could only be described as a massacre. Your hands desperately tried to cover your eyes, but the damage had already been done. There was blood, so much blood amongst other things laid out atop the counter. 

You fell backwards, your body sliding down the wall as hoarse screams raked through your throat. The unmistakable scent of blood was thick in the kitchen sending your stomach churning in your gut. You knew that scent, it was clear as day whatever had remained in that room had once been human. 

“Sweetheart?” A familiar voice called out to you. 

And upon opening your eyes, you saw your grandmother standing before you. The sudden feeling of elation surging through your body at the sight of her alive quickly died out. She wore a leather apron stained with blood, both fresh and old, and her hands were gloved. You quickly stood and began to back away from her, your sense of self preservation suddenly kicking in, your eyes zeroing in on the meat cleaver she held in her left hand. 

“Sweetheart, calm down.” She whispered softly, carefully setting the blade down on the counter beside the gorey mess. 

Your eyes were darting everywhere but her, panicked breaths leaving your parted lips. Your gaze finally settled in the corner of the room where a pile of clothing sat and a familiar axe. The lumberjack, she had murdered the lumberjack. 

“Why?” You cried, trembling as if you had been drenched to the bone. “Why did you do it?!” 

“I had too sweetie, I have to feed them.”

“Them? Who?” You asked, backing out of the kitchen as she followed your trail, her face soft with sympathy despite the flecks of blood that decorated her cheeks. 

“The wolves, of course. I made a deal with them long ago, if I fed them in the winter I could stay here.” She replied, her voice alarmingly calm. “The lumberjack was a sweet man but this winter was a rough one, not many travelers I’m afraid.”

“You’ve gone mad.” You whispered. 

“I know this is a lot to take in, but it’s best if you listen to me darling. Your grandfather was one of them, he courted me and then we had your father and your uncles. It’s always tricky with litters, you never know who is going to take after who. Your father though, he was the most human out of all of them. Poor thing couldn’t even shift.” She sighed, her eyes glazing over.

“You need help, you’re not well.” You tried again, doing your best to keep distance between the two of you.

“I know you’re a bit shaken up, but you need to listen to me, it’s in your best interest.” She sighed, untying the leather apron from around her waist. 

“That cloak you’re wearing, it’s a symbol that you’ve come of age and Namjoon has had every intention of courting you. He’s been rather obvious really, he’s becoming quite frustrated with you.” 

You suddenly became still, your mind flashing through every time Namjoon had ever touched the very item you were wearing. What she was saying, although deluded, had some semblance of truth. 

“I-I have to go.” You mumbled, your throat tightening from the copper scent and smell of flesh that hung heavily in the air. You needed to get home and far away from her before she killed you too. 

A deep sadness spread over her features as her head hung low, shaking from side to side. “Don’t run,” She breathed, “They find the chase seductive.”

All this time you had been slowly backing away from the person you loved the most, and now you had been stopped by the feeling of a solid form behind you. You quickly spun around, a shriek of horror escaping you as you met the bright, gold eyes of your escort, Namjoon. 

And, without thinking, you ran. 

Your cloak was fluttering behind you rapidly in the harsh, cold winds, the snow coming down thicker than it ever had before. And, to your absolute horror, a loud howl was echoing throughout the trees. 

You peered over your shoulder as you sprinted to the best of your ability through the snow drifts. The wolf that had sat outside your window days before had returned and was chasing you down. Now that there was nothing separating you from the creature you were terrified, it was massive and hunting you down. It had the clear advantage, you were inevitably going to die. You were never going home again, another child was going to be ripped from their mother. 

Tears were pouring down your cheeks like waterfalls as you blindly ran, unsure as to where you were going. You knew that you didn’t have time, four legs were faster than two and you were greatly impaired by the weather. 

With no goal in mind, no destination in sight, you ran in hopes you would be able to live for a little longer. You did your best to weave between the trees, slide down hills of snow, and keep running for your life. Your lungs burned and your legs ached but still you ran, even as you heard the loud steps of the wolf coming nearer and nearer.

And, just as you had lost all hope, an outcropping of rocks became visible at the base of a snowy hill. And with every intention to save your life, you recklessly threw yourself down the hill allowing gravity to take over for you. 

The second you felt yourself cease rolling, you rose to your unsteady legs and dizzily stumbled into the cluster of rocks, pulling yourself into the shelter away from the blizzard.

But your hope was fleeting as you came to a realization. The shelter was a den, one that had clearly been in use. It was littered with furs, blankets, books, and materials for a fire. The creature had been corralling you to this very location. 

You turned as another burst of adrenaline shot through your body only to be stunted by the sight of the silver wolf blocking the exit to the den. 

It’s bright eyes stared back at you with a gleam of satisfaction as it crouched down, shimming it’s way into the den and backing you up further into its depths. 

You watched, horrified, as the wolf began to whimper, it’s body shaking violently as the sound of bones beginning to snap and crunch echoed throughout the space, reforming and distorting themselves into vaguely familiar shapes as it’s fur began to melt away. 

Those bright golden eyes faded to a recognizable honey shade, and the silver fur disappeared and showed itself as ashen hair. On the floor of the den sat Namjoon in the place of where the powerful wolf had once stood. 

He carefully rolled his head from side to side, his neck cracking loudly in response as he rose to his feet. A mischievous smirk pulled at his lips, a triumphant gleam to his eyes as he confidently approached your trembling form. 

A broken cry escaped from your throat as you felt him press his forehead to your own, lightly nuzzling his head against yours. His strange behavior now made sense, he had been courting you in a way that was unfamiliar to you, but natural to him. 

All of the people that had gone missing were male’s your age, he had been wiping out the competition. 

And the bloody organ he had left outside of your window, had been a horrific present. A show of his dominance and his twisted affection. 

You were crying uncontrollably now, everything you had experienced suddenly crashing down on you. You flinched in terror as you felt his fingers grip your jaw, his lips just brushing against your own and he hummed happily.

“You have nowhere left to run, little red.” 

Heya! Congrats on the 100+ followers!! Your writing is really good and I enjoy reading your works!

If you dont mind, what would be your headcanons on the TWST dorm leaders of what prefrences they have for a S/O? Like what would they want in an S/O? (Also Im sorry if this has already been asked Im also kinda new to your blog as well ;w;)

Hii!! And thank you 🥰🥺💕 that means a lot to me!! I hope you stay and continue to enjoy yourself here!This hasn’t been asked before so I hope you enjoy!!! ;w; I hope you all enjoy I had a fun time (and a difficult time) writing this out! I think I made it too long, again ;w;

I made this SFW uwu just some fluff!!!! But please keep in mind before you follow me, I MOSTLY POST NSFW works.

Warnings: slight story spoilers for episode 5, for Idia’s part, if u squint

Pairings: Dorm Leaders x Reader

I put things under a cut for length!!

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle would probably want a partner who does well in school - at least someone who tries to! It would go against his own desires to do well in life if he has a partner who doesn’t have the drive to succeed like he does.

He isn’t particularly fond of people who have a lot of potential yet waste it on being lazy. Like I said before, it goes against his own morals.

I also see him wanting someone fun-loving! Riddle grew up in an environment where fun was essentially taboo so he would be drawn like a moth to a flame to someone who has so much energy in them. Remember one of his best childhood friends is Che’nya so he would probably not hate the idea of joking around and being silly once in a while!

Someone who would love sweets like him! Not too often so he could maintain his shape, but someone who would love to indulge him once in a while!

Riddle would love to see an S/O who makes time for him and the unbirthday parties that Heartslabyul hosts! He feels like a good dorm leader and seeing you make an effort to come makes him feel like a great boyfriend too!

“Ah, Y/N, I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to make it today.” Riddle sighed to himself in relief. He feared his rose would come to the party late. “Ah, sorry Riddle! I was late because I was studying for Professor Crewel’s exam but I lost track of time!” You breathed out, a bit exhausted from running.

The redhead only nodded and smiled at you. “Don’t worry about it, my rose. We’ve only just begun the party, so no need to fret.” Riddle’s gentlemanly ways never failed to make your heart soar. “No no, I’ll make it up to you! I’ll bake you a tart sometime, you’ll let me right?” You playfully nudged at your boyfriend’s arm and smirked.

Riddle could only blush furiously. “Th-that would not be a bad idea. I suppose I would accept the gift graciously, dear, but only if we can cook it together. I believe it would be beneficial to both of us to learn!”

Leona Kingscholar

Someone who loves to nap with him like all the time

Leona would definitely want someone who is willing to praise him a lot. Growing up he never really had that and felt like he was overshadowed by his big brother, so this guy needs validation like crazy. Tell him how strong he is, how much you love him, how warm he is… he’ll scoff and look away but you could see the faintest blush on his cheeks. He secretly loves it.

I feel like Leona would like bratty tsunderes, for some reason. He would be the perfect teasing type for them and I think I can just picture Leona and his S/O getting into play fights that lead to something more, if you catch my drift.

Someone who can be “refined” enough for show so that when he brings you home to his family, they can accept you fully. The last thing he wants is his family pestering him about how his potential mate isn’t a good fit.

As tough as he may be he def wants someone at the end of the day to stroke his head and calm him down after a long and stressful day.

“Oi, herbivore, come here and be my pillow.” Leona’s gruff voice broke the silence of his room. He was sitting up on his bed while you studied on his desk. Giggling, you made your way into his bed, crawling over to where he was. Leona pushed your torso down gently and started nuzzling his head on your chest, and you could feel the vibrations coming from his body that was like a low growl. Or was it purring?

“Of course, anything for my big strong boyfriend, the best Magift player in the school, my one and only love~” you endlessly praised him, smiling at him as if he were a rare diamond. Leona only huffed as he wrapped his muscular arms around your form, effectively preventing you from leaving.

“Tch…. Damn right….” Leona mumbled. “Why don’t you tell me more while I start drifting to sleep?” Leona smirked. Running your fingers through his hair carefully, you obliged, feeling Leona’s breathing become more calm as you continued.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul would ALSO want someone who praises him, due to his years of being bullied. Call him beautiful, smart, tell him he’s the most cunning man on campus. He EATS IT UP. This man will swear on his life for you.

He also would want someone who has the ability to work hard… what? The Mostro Lounge needs extra workers sometimes! Azul thinks that if he can own the lounge, manage contracts, AND study hard for school, his S/O should be able to match him!

I can see Azul absolutely praising/spoiling his S/O too. Since you give him so much happiness in his life he should pay it forward, no? What would you like, a new dress/suit? A new piece of jewelry?

Someone !!! Loyal!!! Azul wants someone who he can feel secure with in a relationship, so he probably wouldn’t want you to flirt with anybody else since his insecurities will SPARK UP like crazy!

Azul wants someone who loves him for who he is, unconditionally!

“Angelfish… hello, good evening. I’m sorry if I am a bit more tired than usual, I just finished with ordering more inventory for the lounge and dealing with some paperwork.” Azul sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. You dropped your bags on one of the chairs of the VIP room and walked over slowly to your octomer boyfriend. Bringing your arms to his shoulders, you slowly begin to knead and massage his arms gently. Azul groaned at the contact, muscles aching.

“How is this, Azul? I know how hard you work, you deserve to take a break too, sometimes…” you spoke gently into his ear, kissing the shell of it. The contact gave him slight goosebumps. “Ah, I would love to but, I have so much more to do… I know it’s going to be a late night for me, so why don’t you head on to sleep?” You tsked, upset with his answer. “I know it’s late Azul, that’s why I’m here. You know, if you keep doing this you’ll get wrinkles, right?”

“Ahem! Well. Then, this might be a good place to stop if that’s the case…” Azul huffed, standing up quickly to retire to his room, you in tow.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim wants someone who is cheerful! They may not be a ray of sunshine like he is, but I honestly can’t picture him with someone smug/gloomy. Kalim might be dense but he isn’t THAT stupid. I think he would be able to notice if you were upset which makes him upset.

Someone who is down for anything, Kalim would love to take you on a ride on his magic carpet at random hours of the day so be prepared to drop whatever you’re doing if you want to appease your impulsive boyfriend!

A fun loving person for sure, who isn’t super self conscious about what people think. If he asks you to dance with him he would really love for you to join! He wouldn’t want you to say something like, “oh, but I’m a bad dancer…” Kalim would shake his head and ask you why you would say that! It’s all about having a fun time together, right?

A patient lover is what Kalim would want as well, someone who’s kind, too. At the end of the day when Kalim is ready to sleep after his crazy antics, he wants a partner he can be able to lay next to and feel like himself.

Someone who loves him even if he weren’t rich, Kalim would want someone for their personality and not materialistic things or beauty. Kalim sees someone for their heart ! (*´꒳`*)

You yawned heavily while rubbing your eyes. Was that a tapping noise coming from the window? “Ugh…. What time is it?” Checking your phone, you saw it was 1:30am. You also had a text from Kalim.

*tap tap tap*

You groggily walked over to the window and opened the curtains to see Kalim sitting on his magic carpet with the biggest grin upon seeing you. Opening the window, you giggled lightly. “Good evening Kalim, fancy seeing you here so late.”

“Hi, Y/N!! I woke up and felt bored so, you wanna join me on a night ride around campus?” Kalim practically beamed at you, even this late at night. His smile never failed to make your heart flutter. The boy’s positive energy also transferred to you, effectively waking you up.Stepping onto the carpet from your window was your answer. After getting situated, you kissed Kalim’s cheek and held his hand. “Of course Kalim, I would love to.”

Vil Schoenheit

Someone who can tough out his callous words and treatment. Vil might be a bit much, but the reason why he does this is because he does it with the goal of ultimately helping you. He only wants to see the best out of people, including but not limited to his little sweet potato!

Someone who is patient. He knows he checks who the most beautiful person is quite often and he doesn’t do it to annoy you, it’s just for his own personal validation issues. Lay a hand on his arm, back, or head to give him praises and let him know he’s beautiful to you no matter what.

Someone who is willing to pepper him lightly with kisses (not the face though, he has makeup on!). He definitely eats it up and loves it so much, he feels like you are treating him like a king. He’ll pay that back tenfold and give you beauty treatments, it’ll feel like you’re at the spa on a weekday!

Vil is constantly posting on Magicam, depending on whether you’re comfortable enough to be posted on there he would want to make sure you are okay with him constantly taking photos to be posted on there. Whether it be food you cooked, matching couples outfits, or even pictures of you without makeup, be ready to face comments of all sorts coming from his fans.

“Mira Mira on my phone… Currently, who is the most beautiful of all?” You heard Vil speak outside of his room. Currently you sat on the small chaise at the foot of his bed. Vil told you he needed to step out for a second, so you could get ready for bed now. After putting on your sleeping clothes, Vil finally came back in, seeming more irritated than before. His eyebrows furrowed and his body looked tense.

“Vil, are you alright?” You questioned him as you made your way to his bed, slipping under the covers. Vil only sighed and exchange a quick “Mm.” as he changed into his pajamas and came to join you. He was turned so his back was facing you and he was a bit distant. You knew he didn’t get the answer he wanted when he got those search results back. You didn’t know how to convince your boyfriend otherwise but you decided you needed to talk to him.

“Vil, darling…” you spoke gently as you nuzzled closer, your chest pressing into his back. Your arm wrapped around him to pull him closer, to which he responded with finally relaxing in your touch. “You’re one of the best things that’s happened to me, Vil, I don’t know if you realize how lucky I am to have such a loving, caring, and talented boyfriend like you. Your beauty is simply the cherry on top of the person I fell in love with. To me, you’re perfect. I love you.” You ended your tangent by placing a gentle kiss on his shoulder, dozing off.

You couldn’t see Vil but he trembled lightly as tears silently fell down his face. “Thank you… I love you too, my sweet potato.” Vil whispered into his pillow. With you, he always felt like the most beautiful person.

Idia Shroud

Personality wise, I don’t think Idia would be picky. He’s a shy person and honestly would be surprised he could get an S/O at all! So is Ortho!

Speaking of Ortho, Idia wants someone who is kind and loving to his little brother. Knowing his partner loves his brother would only make him fall for you harder!

Probably someone who would give Idia his own space until he finally felt comfortable and wanted to take it further, he would prob take a few days to even kiss you!!!

Idia wants someone to be his player 2 :) like actually, come over and game with him and he’ll probably be the happiest boy ever.

Big big bonus if you love anime, cosplay, gaming, etc. It’s one thing to be an otaku like Idia but when he has a partner to fully indulge in his interests with?? It’s a win-win situation for everyone! He wants to do a couple cosplay one day if he gets the courage to ask you.

Someone who won’t pressure him too much. If you remember how Riddle pressured Idia into trying to speak publicly, you know how much of a scary situation it put Idia in, even though he was able to do it. Stressing him out is just gonna make him unhappy :(

Someone who enjoys spending as much time inside as he does! I’m not talking a hikikomori but someone who wouldn’t be opposed to staying inside with him 99.9% of the time lol

“Y-Y/N-shi, would you like to g-go on a date with me soon?” Idia fumbled with his fingers, looking away as he asked you. You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Idia, this is the first time you asked me to ‘go on a date’. Don’t tell me, are we actually going out somewhere?!”

“Eek! D-don’t be ridiculous, Y/N!!” He almost screeched the words out. Suddenly he pulled out a couple of VR headsets with hand controllers, and handed one to you. “Fuhehe, I just made a bunch of simulation locations. We could go to the park, a restaurant, even an amusement park..!” He grinned showing off his teeth.

You giggled at Idia’s enthusiasm, loving the way he gets after speaking about his own creations. “What a wonderful idea, Idia. Maybe we could take Ortho to the ‘amusement park’ too? We’ll be a big family.” You mused. Idia’s face brightened and a faint pink tinge covered his cheeks.

“F-family, huh? Ah, Y-Y/N-shi…. That would be n-nice…” Idia blushed as he considered what the future would bring for the both of you.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus would also mostly not have preferences on a person’s personality. Like, he wouldn’t say something like: “I want someone shy vs someone bold.” Anything his child of man does is interesting to him and he’s entranced by you!

That being said, Malleus would not tolerate rudeness, disrespect to him, Lilia, or his fellow dorm mates, etc. He may love you but he values those bonds more, especially Lilia’s and his grandmother’s.

Malleus wants someone who is willing to teach him human tendencies, since he is curious about them. Malleus will also probably never stop asking you about your life in the previous world, and listen passionately as you describe the hobbies you had, family members, etc.

As long as you continue to love and treat Malleus like a normal person and with kindness, he will continue to love you endlessly. He’s so unused to it that he will feel so special as you only coo in awe instead of fear away, if he showed you a magic trick or maybe donned more of his draconic features like his tail or long claws.

You walked with Malleus under the bright moonlight in the woods near Ramshackle dorm. His height and charm never failed to impress you. And his face, he was so very handsome. His striking green eyes always made you feel hypnotized and his horns were so well taken care of, you almost wanted to reach out and-

“Hm, Child of Man… you do know it’s quite rude to stare, yes?” Malleus chuckled and suddenly broke the silence, making you gasp. “Ah, sorry Tsunotarou. I-,” searching your thoughts, you just couldn’t think of anything quickly enough. “I just couldn’t help myself. You’re very attractive.” You murmured, admitting defeat.

“Oh? Do I not intimidate you, my dear? Usually humans and even other fae fear my features and tend to shy away…” Malleus looked down in thought as he continued walking. You wrapped yourself around one of his arms as he walked, effectively stopping him in his place. “Well, you don’t intimidate me! I like being around you, so, let’s keep it that way. I want to stay with you for a long time so don’t get too tired of me okay, Malleus?”

Hearing you say his given name only made the fae’s heart beat harder in his chest. Surely you knew what you did to him. He smiled down at you, green eyes softening in your gaze.

“I assure you I won’t, little human.”

As the name suggests, I'm always thirsty for the Big Guy 😉 I wonder how Kenpachi would react if Ikkaku found a piece of your lingerie in the barracks, but no one knew about your relationship?

The idea of Kenpachi being viewed as sus for fucking a 4th member fuels me so ofc. This got out of hand but I fully blame the energy IkkaYumi brings to anything ever and not myself. Thank you for understanding.

Features: smut (18+) at the mid-point, IkkaYumi being real <3 for the majority of it, and sub!Kenpachi (☆ω☆), also idk maybe some minor angst but like made Seggsy.

Kenpachi Zaraki x f!reader (and IkkaYumi...mostly them tbh.)

Ikkaku slapped the door open with loudest ‘OI’ he could muster. The paper of the door ripped somewhere along the way as it slid open, the wooden frame wobbling as he stepped into the room.

Despite the noise, Yumichika’s hand stayed steadfast as he finished smudging eye shadow on his outer lid. Another ‘OI’ sounded, but no hand shook him or foot kicked at him while Yumichika held a brush to his eye.

Glacial, he finished blending the color until he was satisfied--rinsed the brush--set it to dry. Through the mirror in front of him, Yumichika looked to Ikkaku’s reflection only after admiring his own.

The lacy scrap of undies in Ikkaku’s hand lifted Yumichika’s brow.

“I thought you hated when I wore those,” he said with a sniff, turning to get a better look.

Ikkaku rubbed at his bald head, “yah think that because I do.”

Yumichika gestured for the undies and Ikkaku threw them. “And yet?”

“Yet, I found ‘em anyway!” Ikkaku fell into a wide squat, his hands fisting into the fabric of his uniform over his knees. “In the captain’s office.”

They stared at one another, both settling deeper into their feelings.

“Ikkaku, you must be joking,” Yumichika said, holding the undies against his arm. “This color makes me look positively jaundiced.”

“You think captain gives a shit about color theory?”

Yumichika threw the lacy bit of bullshit at Ikkaku’s face. Smiling when they landed on his dumb, shiny head. “He won’t even let me do his hair, Ikkaku. Your delusion is exhausting me.”

“Then--”

“Yes, Ikkaku. Then, they’re not mine. And they’re someone else’s.”

Ikkaku pulled the undies from his head, squinting at them. “Huh.”

Rising with a flourish, Yumichika let the sleeves of his robe billow behind him as he went for the cabinet to rummage for sake. Possibly a new boyfriend.

He came back after a few gulps, offering Ikkaku the bottle only after giving him a sound kick to the head that sent the man flopping to the side.

“Hey!” Ikkaku steadied himself with one hand and rubbed where he’d been kicked with the other...undies still in hand. “Ya can’t blame me. No one else around here would wear that shit.”

Yumichika gave a flat look. Took another gulp of sake. Sighed heavily as he sank to Ikkaku’s level.

“Which means they belong to someone who would,” Yumichika offered along with the sake. “Someone from a different division.”

“Must be serious,” Ikkaku said, sake dribbling down his chin. “Never found anything in his office...ever.”

Yumichika kissed at the trail of sake and took the bottle back once he’d settled into Ikkaku’s lap. “That means whoever it is will be back. And now we know what to look for.”

Ikkaku grunted, shoving his tongue in Yumichika’s mouth before the man in his lap could swallow his sake, not pulling away until he’d swiped as much alcohol with his tongue as he could.

“That shit ain’t good enough for you, anyway.”

“I know,” Yumichika said softly, tone at odds with him rising to stand, heading for the door.

“O--” A raised hand stalled Ikkaku from pointing to his tightened hamaka.

“Fix my door first, dumbass.”

@

Ikkaku lowered from his tip-toes, a man afflicted. “No way.”

“I told you,” Yumichika said in a hiss. “Not just from 4th division, but a pencil pusher.”

You looked like the kind who’d scramble to bring an 11th division soldier any impossible request they bullied you for. The quintessential mouse every self-respecting soldier was inclined to paw at.

“Don’t look so fucking smug, Yumi,” Ikkaku grumbled, peeling off the wall and pulling Yumichika back towards the training grounds by the back of the puffed-up peacock’s uniform, right at the lower back. Yumichika had just gotten his fifth pay-back punch in when they hit the gate that separated captain’s estate from training ground.

Theirs might have been the only captain so enamored with battle that he’d moved his quarters as close as the captain general would allow. If it weren’t for the bullshit ‘housing codes and regulations’, Ikkaku was sure the house would’ve been on top of the large rectangle of packed dirt that served as the largest training ground in the entire division. 

Once they’d hopped the low wall, more meant to keep Zaraki’s house away from the grounds than to keep his underlings on the grounds away from him, Yumichika fell on the nearest bench to fix his uniform.

“Well now what?” Ikkaku rubbed at his side, knowing he was going to need to stretch soon or the tight knot Yumichika had punched into his side or even a night drowned in sake wouldn’t numb it when he collapsed in his futon.

Yumichika didn’t look up from retying his stiff, decorative obi but his face softened, “Now that we’ve been successfully nosy? I was thinking that new, chic sushi bar near the 1st. The one where all the wait-staff look just as yummy.”

“No I, mean--yeah, we’re definitely going,” Ikkaku said, his previous thought tripping over the vision of pretty smiles from androgynous beauties. “But, what do we do about the captain?”

“Well, I’m not going to say anything, but I also have tact. And grace,” Yumichika shrugged, fluffing the bow of obi.

Ikkaku kicked dirt and tensed forward at the shoulders, like he planned to lunge and attack. “I ain’t no fucking snitch and you know it. Don’tcha?”

Sliding forward, Yumichika massaged at Ikkaku’s tense shoulders, rolling his eyes. “I wasn’t saying you would. Just that you’re tactless. And might on accident--which makes you an idiot, not a snitch.”

“Damn right,” Ikkaku grunted, anything but Yumichika’s agreement sliding off his bald head like water. “Wouldn’t snitch for anything. But what if someone else finds out? Like a captain or something. We can’t kill one of them and--”

“Oh, stop worrying about it,” Yumichika said, interrupting and pulling at Ikkaku’s arm--he was hungry, both for refined food and beauties. “No one who wants to live will chance Kenpachi asking for a fight. Or that Captain Unohana; she seems vicious in a way more of our men should be. Such grace.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Ikkaku nodded, letting himself be dragged off for sushi, sake, and sublime wait-staff. Still, there was morale to think about. No hardened warrior of the rukongai wanted to hear their fearless leader had a weakness for...the weak.

There had to be something more to it but Ikkaku wasn’t going to dig more into his captain’s business. He was more than happy to put the shovel down and follow Yumichika, even as the truth sat uncomfortably at the base of his skull.

@

You were weak in all the ways shinigami measured such things--swordsmanship, spiritual pressure, and kido were subjects you studied more than you practiced, let alone pulled off. But you had enough power to pass school and be sorted into the 4th division ranks, where you excelled.

An aptitude for medical procedure, surgery, and technology was what garnered you not just safety, but respect among your peers.

As for the other divisions? Well, you had some friends in 12th who fully understood your position.

Kenpachi Zaraki? Certainly wasn’t someone who could relate to you.

But, that was fine.

You preferred your men muzzled, anyway.

“Too bad, Cap--tain,” you breathed, stretching his title with your tongue playfully. “I was hoping they’d find out everything.”

Pulling yourself up, one fist over the other, by the leather leash tied taunt around Kenpachi’s neck, you delighted in seeing the muscles there strain to accommodate your weight and the need for breath at the same time.

You pressed your lips against his ear after admiring the rough line of his mouth being forcibly split open by a ball gang, pretty, pink, and yours. “Can’t you go faster?”

His answering grunt was followed by his body pressing into yours quick enough turn your teasing into moans. That’s what you liked most about Kenpachi; he was always striving to be better and exceeding expectation.

it would be effortless for him to put his hands on you without permission or rip out the ball gag, but he didn’t. Even when you met in a grimy bar close to the 11th, too drunk to realize who’s thigh you were toying with, his attention to what you wanted was surprising.

You panted, toes curling as he hit that lovely spot only he ever had, “H-hands on hips.”

So eager, he kneaded from the tops of your thighs to your hips like dough, obviously glad to be rewarded. You were eager too--for the angle. Your hips tilted upward gave him more depth and your fingers tightened on his leash.

There was no need to command for more, because he was giving you his all. And he kept going until your scattered breathing paired with the tight heat he was pounding into you snapped all at once, so intense that your eyes watered.

While you basked in the trembling after shocks, catching your breath, Kenpachi went still.

Until you said, “Sit on floor.”

The bed creaked and rose as he left it, leaving you to collect yourself in peace. When you rose to sit, he was kneeling on the floor, his cock hard and bobbing above his thighs.

You walked to him slow, nails scratching through his rough, black hair as you circled behind him. “Such good work,” you praised, “Just like always.”

Trailing down to the buckle, your fingers made quick of his ball gag, parting it from his teeth gently, and tossing it on the bed.

“What do you want me to reward you with, Kenpachi?” You asked him, only once you’d come to face him, your hand urging his jaw up, his eyes on yours.

“To get off,” he said, shameless.

You hummed, “then do it.”

Frowning, Kenpachi leaned his face into your touch. “I want you to.....please.”

The word ‘please’ was said slow, his eyes leaving yours several times before he said it. You wondered how many people Kenpachi Zaraki had ever asked, for anything. Let alone, with manners.

You kissed his nose, finding the almost demure behavior cute, “Then I will. Lay down.”

He did, his arms behind his head, like he napping under a tree instead of waiting for your hands to give his weeping cock relief.

You took your time, teasing him with sensation by spitting into your hand and giving him light rubs, again and again until his hips lifted off the ground.

The lacy bit of pink undies that stretched tight over his thighs, were yours too. And you peeled them off, throwing them toward the ball gag as his breathing grew heavy in the air.

Perhaps you deserved less teasing, but you couldn’t resist dragging out the fun a touch more, one hand fondling his tightening balls while the other scratched lightly at his inner thighs.

His breathing was catching on groans and audible ‘ah’s that had you biting your lip. Thigh’s clenching, you finally began circling the tip of his cock. Soon, you were giving him his first pump, slick hand trailing his length from tip to base in smooth, steady motions.

Straddling his thighs, you took advantage of the position and put both your hands to work, gripping him harder but keeping the same pace.

“Look how hard you are,” you cooed, hands pausing as your thumb circled the slit topping the bulbous head of his cock. “Do you want to cum for me?”

His, “yes,” was immediately pushed from his heaving chest. You hummed, so tempted to climb on top of him fully. But, that would be a kind of weakness you didn’t allow yourself.

Kenpachi’s lone eye struggled to stay open as you lowered your lips to kiss the tip of him. You rose back up and licked them as he watched, his pre-cum salty as it settled on your tongue.

You couldn’t call him unraveling under your firm, fast touch seeing him at his weakest. But, you were certain it was a kind of vulnerable he seldom experienced. Even his arms had come from behind his head, his fingers flexing around air while he struggled to keep them away from you. His hips began bucking with such strength that you were forced to tighten your thighs around his to keep your place.

Desperate, is what he was. For you to give him what he worked for.

And, you did.

His cock pulsed as you wrung his orgasm out, thick ropes of cum falling over his sweaty stomach and dripping down your hands. His moan was loud, deep, and reverberated through out the room like a cry of victory.

You kept stroking him until he was completely spent, until he made a sound almost like a whine.

“I need--”

He sat up, setting you on the floor before padding to the bathroom, and coming back with a damp cloth. “Here.”

“Thank you,” you said, keeping your eyes on your hands as you willed yourself to calm down. His orgasm had made you want him again, badly. But you had things to do. He had things to do.

What you had with Kenpachi was strange and tenuous. And your smug confidence drained a bit as you cleaned yourself and him, until you were almost unsure.

What now? You’d never even seen his house before this. Always in more public places, where you parted almost immediately after playing with him.

“You want these back,” he asked, lifting the ball gag and undies in one hand while pulling back the blankets on the bed with the other. The leash was already on the bedside table, his neck angrily red still.

If you took them, you wondered if it was all over. “No, you should. They’re easy enough to clean.”

“...You sure?”

You nodded, not so attached to a couple cheap props that you’d be wounded if something happened to them. “They’re all yours.”

Shrugging after a moment of silence, he gestured with his head to the bed, “unless you wanna take a shower first.”

“I’m fine for now,” you responded, climbing under the blanket, more confused than obedient. “Are you tired?”

“Enough to sleep.”

The bed dipped from his bulk, forcing you closer. He tossed an arm around you, so you could get comfortable against his side. You lay your head on his chest, eyes still open, listening to him breathe.

At first, you’d thought maybe it was all a joke. That Kenpachi Zaraki was trying to trap you into....something, like those men who feigned nice before using all their muscle to force you to bend as they wanted. To teach you a lesson for trying to dominate him.

You didn’t delude yourself into thinking you had real, tangible power of him or any man you’d toyed with, after all. Just something momentary, like a brief understanding.

But you felt less cautious as your eyes drooped shut and your thoughts circled around his intentions. He always approached you and asked, vague and gruff, ‘here good?’ And you’d find a closet or office or twisty alley that would do.

This time, you asked him. And he took you to his bedroom, compliant as ever, waiting for you to sprinkle nice words in his ear, for you to give him pleasure for being his best.

Drifting off to the rise and fall of his chest, you wondered if things like that meant so much to him.

Oblivius Chapter 6

So I'm thinking next chapter will be... a big one.

You cannot know how happy I am to see all your comments and reblogs and messages and general kind words about how this story is making you feel. Love y'all. Keep asking! Keep messaging! I want to talk about this all day lmao.

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Angst, slow-burn, yearning, 18+ language (Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Prev Part Next Part Playlist

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

Age: 20

“Why did you even ask me out Frankie? Do you even like me?” She was embarrassed, walking towards the door.

“Yes of course, I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t.” He tried to walk it back but she was incensed, her cheeks burning bright with anger. She rounded on him when she got to the door, making him step back slightly from her onslaught.

“When you invited me over to meet your friends I didn’t expect to be ignored so you could flirt with her. Get your shit together Frankie, I’m not gonna go out with someone who’s too busy pining over someone else to notice me.” Her eyes were bright with un-shed tears, if she expected some sort of answer or explanation - he had none.

He watched her go.

“Everything okay Francis?” Spills had come looking for him.

“Yes, everything’s good. She had to go.” He had a big smile for her when he turned around.

“Will she be back?” Thankfully she hadn’t heard them.

“I doubt it.” He couldn’t be too sad about it though, not when she looked up at him like that.

——————

**Present Day**

He could still feel her wrapped around him as he walked to the shore. Could feel her moulded to his back, her legs on his waist. He had meant every word he’d said to her, he would gladly stay there with her forever.

“How was the water babe?” Claudia kissed him when he lay on the towel next to her to dry off, wrinkling her nose slightly at the water that trickled from his hair onto her face.

“Beautiful.” His eyes were on Spills, floating in the water. “You should take a dip.”

“No thanks, I’m perfectly happy here. Can you get my back babe?” She smiled up at him but he wasn’t looking at her, his eyes were trained on the water. “Francisco?” She had to tap him to get his attention. He tore his gaze away to face her.

“Sorry babe, yes of course.”

You can’t keep doing this Francisco. Get your fucking shit together and focus.

“You okay fish?” Pope's voice startled him slightly and when he turned to look at him his expression was serious. “You seem a little… distracted.” His eyes quickly flashed towards Spills floating in the water.

I never should have told him.

“I’m fine.” His voice was clipped, he really didn’t need this right now and he hoped his tone was warning enough. Pope didn’t say anything but he had a feeling he’d hear about this later.

“I wanna ask her out.” Benny had sat down beside Frankie and was staring out at Spills.

“You should! You guys would look cute together, wouldn’t they babe? We could double date or something.” Claudia was happy at the prospect but Frankie's stomach dropped. He felt the anger crawling in his gut, tensing his muscles at the prospect of Benny with her.

This isn’t normal, I shouldn’t feel like this.

“I think you should, Benny.” Pope clapped him on the back. “Fish - I think you should put in a good word for our boy.” It was hard for Frankie not to lash out but why would he? He was engaged and Spills was free. What reason could he possibly have to not want this to happen?

There’s only one reason why, and I can’t fucking help it.

“Yeah of course. I’ll talk to her.” It took everything in him to keep his voice neutral.

“Only ask her out if you’re serious, don’t bother if you’re going to fuck around because that’s his friend, she’s not a random.” Will chimed in, ever the voice of reason and Frankie was thankful.

“I know that.” Benny smiled, and Frankie had to keep quiet.

----

Everything was quiet. Your ears were submerged as you floated peacefully in the water, eyes closed. The ocean always managed to make you feel safe despite its size. Maybe that was what appealed to you, it was so vast and unknowable, you could get lost in it.

You saw the shadow obscure the light despite having your eyes closed. Pope was in the water with you and you smiled at him. Of all the army friends Frankie had introduced you to, Pope was the most mysterious. He guarded his words and you had the sense that he knew way more than he let on.

“Did you have anything planned for the bachelor party yet?” His question dropped a boulder into your stomach.

Fuck, I forgot about that.

“Nope - hadn't even remembered until you said it. I have no idea how the hell to plan one.” Your eyes widened at the thought of it and he laughed, not unkindly.

“I figured, I can help you out. He’s a simple guy - but I'm guessing you already know that. I’m guessing you know much more about him than we do in a lot of respects.” He was smiling at you but there was something underneath his words, a tone you couldn’t discern.

“Probably - known him a long time.” It felt like you were under the microscope.

“Years worth of stuff that Claudia doesn’t even know.” His eyes were burning into you and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was gauging your reaction.

“In all likelihood, but she’ll learn eventually I imagine.” Your voice sounded a lot calmer than you felt.

“Obviously no strip clubs, that’s not his thing. Just get all his friends together and get him drunk.” He was watching you closely but your eyes were focused on Frankie, he was laughing and happy - talking animatedly with Will about something and you couldn’t help but smile.

“I can see how much you love him.” Your eyes flashed towards him. “Like a brother, right?” He raised his eyebrows at you and you felt the colour drain from your face.

Am I that fucking obvious?

“Yeah… like a brother.” You were lying, even when you were younger you knew you’d always loved him, but it never felt brotherly. He knew. “See ya.” As much as you wanted to be in the water, you couldn't handle the scrutiny anymore and you made your way back to shore.

---

The rest of the day was spent mostly in your head, you tried to focus on the conversations you had. You tried to focus on the water and the sunshine but it seemed like Pope’s words and his implications followed you.

“You okay Spills? You’ve been distracted all day.” You’d been on the road for almost half an hour and you’d barely said anything.

“Yeah - sorry, just tired. Need a shower.” You smiled at him weakly.

“You sure? Seems like you have something else on your mind.” He glanced over to you and your heart swelled. His curls were defined from the salt water, his face was a little pink from the sun and he looked so warm and soft. You ran your fingers through his hair seemingly without thought. It was so soft and you had to fight the urge to keep touching it.

“I’m okay Francis - gotta plan your bachelor party.” You couldn’t keep the sadness out of your voice, hoping it came across as tired. You were both silent the whole ride home.

--------

You never would have thought it, but you were glad to be back at work. It was the one place that had no memory of Francis. You could come in, completely focus your energy and forget everything for most of the day. In all the time you worked there - you’d never been this productive but with the wedding slowly approaching, the anxiety was slowly creeping in.

Nowhere was safe now.

[unknown contact]: hey Spills! It’s Claudia - I got your number from Frankie. I was hoping you’d be able to come with me tomorrow to the bridal store. We have to make sure you match everyone on the big day!

Really fucking wish you wouldn’t call me that.

[you:] hey Claudia! Uh yeah sure what time?

[claudia😒]: great! Appointment is for 10am - I’ll send you the address, see you then! 🙂

[you]: sounds great - see you then!

Well that’s just great.

It had been a week since the beach trip and the peace couldn’t last.

—-

There was something about Claudia that got under your skin.

She’s marrying the love of your life, obviously she gets under your skin.

She was friendly enough, and she loved Francis - you could see that in her excitement; but there was something underneath. You got a sense that she was trying to pull a fast one on him.

“Spills, if Frankie and I move, would you come visit us? I think you’re holding him back a little bit.” She was standing as they made adjustments on the dress which thankfully had made it in time to be altered.

“What? What do you mean?” Where was this question coming from?

“Well, he wants to stay here. He wants to live close to his mom and you, but I’m trying to convince him to live back home with me. Maybe if you told him it would be okay and that you’d visit he’d give in.” Your blood was boiling. Give in? His wants and needs had to mean more to her than that?

I have to calm down, I’m overreacting.

“He already told you he doesn’t want to leave? Maybe you guys should compromise? Middle-ground?” You had to put your diplomatic hat on, couldn’t just tear into this girl. The logical part of your brain told you that this was normal - couples disagree about things all the time and it made sense that she’d want to be close to her family and her home.

“Yes he’s set in his ways. It’s frustrating.” She laughed lightly. “I just think that if you gave him your blessing he’d be more open to leaving with me.”

But you don’t have my blessing, I’m the wrong person to come to with this.

“I really think you should talk to him about this - he’s never been the kind of guy to be swayed. Won’t matter what I say.” You were being honest as well as telling her it wasn’t your problem in a roundabout way. She didn’t say anything else and you could tell she wasn’t happy with your answer. You left it alone.

---

You couldn’t put it off any more, as much as you were dreading this wedding you still had responsibilities as his best-person. You had to get everything together and throw this stupid fucking bachelor party.

You messaged all of the friends you knew he kept in touch with, telling them about the outing. They had things planned the whole week up until the wedding so it had to be the Friday before the wedding. Which means you had little less than a week to get it together.

[you]: Hey Francis - can you give me Popes number? Trying to plan your party!

[Francis]: Sure - sending it now. Hopefully it’s nothing too crazy?

[you]: Shit… you mean you don’t want your own parade? Should I cancel the army of exotic dancers?

[Francis]: You’re hilarious, honestly.

[you]: just taking you to a bar you fool, just want to coordinate with him because I don’t have everyone's contact info.

[Francis]: Sounds good, thanks for this - I never got a chance to ask but how did it go at the bridal store?

[you]: Went well

You thought about everything Claudia had said and debated on telling him. Would he want you to? Would she want you to? Somehow you didn’t think she’d be too happy unless you were on her side. Which you decidedly weren’t.

[you]: Think you should talk to her, she’s not happy with you wanting to stay here, after the wedding I mean. I support you whatever you decide but she seemed to think that you needed my blessing in order to leave with her. I told her she needed to talk to you - and I’m telling you the same thing.

Being honest and supportive was the best course of action and you hoped that neither of them (him more so than her) would be upset with how you went about it.

It worried you though when he didn’t answer and you had to trust that they would both understand that you didn’t actually want to influence anyones decision.

Liar, I want him to stay. Even if it’s not with me. I want him to stay.

You pushed the thought away and messaged Pope, the both of you came together and planned a dinner for everyone on the Friday before the wedding, which would turn into the bachelor party after. In five days, he’d be married and if Claudia got her way - far far away from you.

------

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hey, for the ask thing, can you do #9 under random: “You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say ‘yes’.”

This one was so fun!!

--

Kara doesn’t drink, usually.

It’s not like, a thing, that she doesn’t drink. Some sort of moral or religious blah blah whatever, it’s just that she… doesn’t.

So when she’s dragged out to the bar for Nia’s 21st birthday, she expects it to be more of the same- her friends will get drunk, Brainy will dominate at the trivia game that’ll inevitably be crawling across a screen at the bar, Nia will flirt with Brainy, Alex will stare and sigh at Sam all night, James and Mike will inevitably get at each other’s throats (how they manage to play on the same team without killing each other, Kara will never know), Mike will flirt with her and be hurt when she shoots him down, James will pull out his camera and take candids that Alex will doubtlessly demand to see and then delete immediately, and Kara will eventually wrangle them all into her minivan and drive them back to campus.

A typical Thirsty Thursday with her closest friends (and also Mike, for some reason).

Except that tonight, instead of Al’s, the dive they usually flock to, they’re at some martini bar downtown. And though the reasoning makes sense (Nia can’t really openly celebrate her 21st at the bar she’s been frequenting for the past 2 years with a fake ID), and it is her birthday and she wants to go someplace-

“Swanky,” Alex murmurs as Sam lets out a low whistle behind them.

This is barely a bar, it more closely resembles a set from a 30’s noir movie, with the large chandeliers dripping crystal overhead and the rich, polished wooden floor underfoot. For crying out loud, there’s a live jazz band- not a quartet, a full band- across what is clearly a dance floor, and the waiters and waitresses are all dressed in vests and ties (and not the cheap kind Kara had to wear for the week she worked at the catering company).

In short, it’s gorgeous, and glamorous, and she’s infinitely glad she’d asked Nia what she should wear because her usual jeans-and-a-sweater combo surely wouldn’t fly here, but the suit she wore to her cousin’s wedding this past summer definitely does.

They’re greeted by a friendly but slightly harangued-looking hostess, who quickly ushers their group to a large booth in the corner. Each of them peruses the drink menu, and quickly realize that they have no idea what any of the cocktails listed actually are.

"Yeah, great, this is- I love doing a Google search to get drunk," Alex grumbles sarcastically as she scrolls through her phone, pulling a face at something or other. "How many of these have absinthe in them? Jesus."

Kara laughs. "What, no green fairies for you tonight?"

"It was one time!"

"Aw, we still like you even though you're afraid of the mean, scary alcohol," Sam coos at Alex, smile tinged with an edge of teasing and Alex melts like so much wax before a flame.

Ridiculous. 

"Make out already," Nia jeers. When they both flip her off she turns to Kara, seemingly confused. "That was a legitimate suggestion, though?"

"I know. One day," Kara hums, throwing her arm around Nia’s shoulder and pulling her into a half-hug.

Their waiter appears, smooth and charming and managing to get Winn firmly under his spell in a matter of seconds. But in Winn's defense, he has a perfect smile, great hair, and a British accent.

Poor boy never stood a chance against all that. They each place their orders for a fancy drink, and when the waiter, Jack, turns his attention to Kara, Alex interrupts with, "She wants a Potion D'Amour."

"Oh, a love potion," he muses, smiling at Kara. His eyes catch on something and his smile widens. "I know just the lady to make it for you. Back in a tick."

And he's off before Kara can protest. Resigned, she turns to her sister. "Why?"

Alex rolls her eyes fondly. "Just take a sip. If you don't like it, one of us will finish it for you.”

“Fine, fine.”

--

So, as it turns out, Kara likes the love potion. A lot.

“It tastes like berries,” Kara marvels.

“We know, Kara, you told us when you were drinking the last one,” Alex chuckles.

“And the one before that,” Nia adds.

“You guys are so nice. I love you all so much.”

“Well at least she’s a happy drunk,” James chuckles.

“‘m not drunk,” Kara insists. “‘m always happy, ya butts.”

“Sure Kar, and the sky is red.”

Kara frowns as her friends all laugh. “Rude. Who wants another one?”

They all raise a hand, and Kara moves off in the general direction of the bar.

Or, well, she does her best.

“Hey there! Did you need something, luv?”

It’s Jack-the-waiter, looking at her with some bemusement.

“Yeah! Hi, sorry. Um, they all want more drinks, and I just, um…”

“Needed a break?”

She slumps in relief. “Yeah. Is that bad? Like, I love them and all, but I think I’m kinda drunk and they’re… a lot.”

Jack chuckles. “Trust me, I understand. If you want a minute of quiet, there’s a stool on the end of the bar that no one ever sits in. Got your name on it.”

“Thanks! You’re a very good waiter. Hey, d’you have any drink recommendations? Maybe one a little, um… lighter?”

“‘Course I do luv. Really fancy, too. C’mere, I’ll tell ya,” Jack says, motioning her close. When Kara is a few inches away, he tells her the secret. “It’s called ‘coffee’.”

Kara laughs as he winks and moves away to another table. She spots the empty barstool he’d mentioned and ambles over, dropping into it with a sigh. From here, she has a view of approximately nothing, given its location behind a pillar, and she leans back against the wall, the cool wood paneling chilly even through her jacket and shirt. 

“Long night?”

Kara’s eyes flutter open (when did they close? Maybe she is drunk…) and across from her is quite probably the most beautiful person she’s ever seen in her life.

“Wow.”

The girl smirks, quirking a brow upward. “You okay there?”

“Yeah. I um, I think I just had too many love potions.”

“Oh, so it was you ordering those,” the pretty, pretty girl drawls. “They’re a pain in the ass to make, you know. Mostly the garnish, but still, I’m tempted to be annoyed with you, for being so high-maintenance.”

“Oh, Jack said he knew the girl for the job!” Kara says. “They were really good, I usually don’t even drink, but those were great.”

“Well well, keep talking, I thrive on flattery,” the girl jokes. She extends a hand. “Lena.”

“Kara, Kara Danvers. Wow, your hands are big.”

Lena barks a delighted laugh. “You have all the subtlety of a hand grenade, Kara Danvers.”

Kara flushes. “Oh, that’s- wow, sorry.”

“You’re fine. Like I said, I thrive on flattery,” Lena says, throwing her a very cute two-eyed wink. She turns suddenly, fixing a polite, professional smile on her face. “Good evening, sir. What can I get for you?”

“Another round for my friends. And your number, gorgeous.”

Mike.

Lena remains polite, face impassive even as Kara hastily ducks out of sight under the bar. “What drinks did you and your friends have?”

“I dunno, fancy stuff. The waiter guy probably knows- my friend was supposed to come get us another round, but she probably bailed.”

“Oh yeah? Not much of a partier?” Lena asks, eyes darting to (hidden) Kara.

“Nah. Don’t get me wrong, Kara can be cool, but she’s a little… uptight. Needs to relax every once in a while.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So what’s your story, beautiful? You come here often?”

There’s a beat of silence before Lena drawls, “Well I work here, so… I’d have to say yes…”

Kara claps a hand over her mouth to muffle the laugh she can’t keep inside.

This obviously throws Mike off whatever game he thinks he has. “Oh, that- right. Um. That was a joke.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll ask your waiter what your order was- do you know who he is?”

“Um… he has a beard?”

“Jack, his name is Jack,” Kara mutters under her breath.

“Right. I’ll ask him. Did you need anything else?”

“No, thanks.”

There’s an extended silence before Lena says, “You can come up for air now, Kara Danvers.” 

Kara peeks over the edge of the bar, flushing again when Lena snickers at her.

“Good friend of yours?”

“No. He’s- I don’t even know why he’s here? Like one day we all hated him and then the next he was always around. Nia doesn’t even like him, and it’s her birthday.”

“Really? Good that she doesn’t- seems like a douche.”

Kara barks out a laugh, smothering in quickly and grinning behind her palm as Lena grins slyly over at her without turning her head. “He is a douche. He always asks me out even though I’ve told him no, like, a million times.”

Lena frowns at this, turning her attention fully to Kara. “Does he?”

“Yeah. My sister hates his guts, and so does our friend James, but somehow he just… sticks around.” Kara shrugs. “He’s pretty harmless, just really annoying.”

Lena hums, gaze narrowed. “He’s not worth your politeness, Kara.”

“Eh. Besides, I’m kinda doing the same thing to you, right? Just like, demanding all your attention?”

Lena bobbles her head side to side. “I’d say it’s a bit different.”

“Why, because I’m drunk?” Kara laughs. “‘m sorry about that, by the way.”

“First off, I don’t think you’re all that drunk,” Lena confides, leaning over the bar so . “Those drinks really aren’t all that strong. And secondly, there’s a difference because I am actually enjoying your attention, Kara Danvers.”

“Oh. Oh, okay. Cool,” Kara mutters to herself.

Lena smirks. “So, Kara Danvers- even though I already know the answer to this-, do you come here often?”

“Um, no. But I think I might start…”

Lena’s sly grin morphs into a broad smile, dimpling her cheeks and making her eyes shine in the low bar light. “Good.”

first base

part 6 of the ‘hey batter batter’ series

pairing: Francisco Morales (Frankie, Catfish) x reader

wordcount: 2.7k

warnings: strong language, illusions to part trauma

summary: it’s a Triple Frontier Baseball AU! Trust me, you don’t need ot know anything about baseball.

In this chapter, the guys start to explain baseball both as a game and a career to the reader, and Frankie takes a step in the right direction instead of running.

>> 

It was Francisco’s idea for someone to walk you to your car, but Will ended up doing it, his mind too lost in thought for his usually sharp eyes to see. They missed the drop in Frankie’s shoulders, the tilt of Santi's head, and the way that even after the goodbyes, your fingers waved an extra  wave at just one of them before you turned away. He didn’t say anything as you walked and thanked him again for inviting you to his grandparents with everyone, and apologized for James’ absence.

“Thank you,” he said finally, his accent was more pronounced and you almost thought he was going to shake your hand before he pulled you into a rough hug.

“What for?” the Millers, you were learning, were physically affectionate, but there was something in the way he did it, something in the way he said it that made you pause.

“The other night, and,” he shrugged, for once not quite knowing what to say, and you could almost see the words swimming behind his deep blue eyes. With a content sigh, you perched on the edge of the hood of your car, settling in for a real conversation with William Miller. Ironhead, they told you, a golden top athlete and responsible older of Ben, and the whole group. There was a huff, as he acknowledged it, smiling a little bit.

“You guys protect him,” you offered, and he crossed his arms, leaning next to you. Will blinked, then uncrossed his arms again.

“Yeah,” his hands moved along the grooves of the car, as if he was concentrated on being open with you. “We have to.”

“You’re his big brother.” 

You didn’t ask, but they’re not? but it was implied. The sturdy first-baseman stilled, looking right at you. If this had been less of a conversation, it would have occurred to him that the prolonged time alone with you was creating a curiosity what was killing his friend inside.

“We were all him, a few years ago,” his eyes felt like they were boring into yours, intense in a comforting way, like he would ask permission before peering into your soul. “High on attention, moving too fast to think, caught up in the parties and girls and... all of it.”

Nodding while he talked, you muttered not relatable underneath his voice and he half smiled as he continued. Still, you understood what he was getting at.

“It got bad,” he said it like he had rehearsed it, or maybe had said it before. “Redfly wants it back, bigger, better. He could do it, too, if…” Will talked with his hands just enough to wave off the end of that sentence. “We all made mistakes. Did shit we aren’t proud of. Still sort of recovering from that. Just… don’t like seeing him make some of the same choices.”

“He’s got a big heart,” you said, asking not for confirmation, but out of curiosity. He grinned, breaking his frustrated reminiscing and nodded.

“You’re good for him,” he pushed off the car, a signal that he said what he needed to. Another hug, and at the same time as you said, “I like you guys,” you could’ve sworn he added, “For all of us.”

Pulling back, you stared, but he didn’t repeat himself, and you finished your goodbyes. The drive home, you forgot to turn on the radio the whole drive, thinking.

There was a place for you, with those five boys, it wasn’t a crazy once-in-a-lifetime thing. And maybe it was time to stop fighting it.

-

There was nothing about Francisco that you didn’t like – except he spilled your secret.

I actually don’t know anything about baseball.

Frankie was mad he shared it, too. His daydreams of having you pressed against his side – or better yet, in his lap – as he explained the beautiful game to you dwindled before his eyes. His friends were yelling, indignant, and excited. Already the evening was being planned, to watch a game and explain it to you and with resignation he knew they were all looking forward to it.

So, two evenings later, he found himself trying to get a seat next to yours on the little couch of Santi's rental. You brought snacks and a recording James had given you, and were wearing an old team tshirt that made his heart flip over in his chest.

It was silly, how eagerly they all waited for the recording to start, just boys excited to strut their stuff and show off.

“So exactly how much do you know?” Will was on your other side, the most relaxed of the bunch, sipping something fizzy. He seemed amused, more than anything.

“Let’s just assume I know nothing,” you shrugged. They were sure that wasn’t true, but it made it more fun.

“That’s me!” Santiago said, raising his eyebrows and pointing. It was, which you obviously knew, but you asked for it. Tom, who was gripping a beer while hovering by the food and texting, coughed a laugh.

“Okay, smart-ass,” you grabbed a handful of candy off the coffee table and threw one at Santi’s head. “You’re the pitcher. What do you do, other than throw the ball?”

He caught it, grinning, before Ben chimed in.

“Nothing.”

Santi made an offended noise in the back of his throat. He explained it to you – he was in control, throwing the ball in different ways to manipulate the batter.

“So, if all goes well, the batter misses and you catch it,” your eyes found Frankie’s, confirming, and he shrugged, more focused on restraining himself from pulling you against him. They then explained, strikes were good, but sometimes it was equally good to make the batter hit it badly.

“What’s a bat hit, at this level?”

Benny’s chest swelled a little with pride as he said anything he could catch. They corrected him – anything anyone could catch. That would give the other team an “out" faster than three strikes.

His voice was deep, but his laughter was lighter as Benny launched into a story like a overgrown kid trying to share. You could barely follow it as he jumped around and the others began to interject the pieces that he missed. It made you smile, how passionate they were about what they did.

Frankie saw a chance in the midst of the loud conversation, swallowed hard, and took it, sliding a little bit closer to you. He kept his voice low, as he explained that he and Pope would communicate the plan with hand signals. It was a gift from them, really, to let him show them you, your eyes alight as you looked at his broad, scarred hands.

The snap of the ball hitting a bat broke the moment, and all of you turned back towards the screen. Tom tuned in, telling you what he did in the outfield – mostly standing and running and catching and throwing – before he excused himself and slipped out. There was a joke somewhere, about the differences between infielders and outfielders, but no one made it.

You watched a tiny version of Will hit the ball, and the camera followed it as if flew all the way over the heads of the opposing team, past the fence and into the crowd.

“A home run?” That was one thing you didn’t really need to ask, but Will looked proud, anyway.

“Who has the record?” The real question, executed with raised brows and a conspiring sip of your drink as Santi made a face at you. At this point, you had their measure - jealousy wasn’t stronger that their comradery. 

Your elbow bumped Frankie’s ribs and even though it didn’t hurt, he winced. “Will,” he said, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“It’ll be me in a few years,” Benny added with his wide smile, not even trying to dodge the pillows and pretzels thrown at his face.

“Sore subject?” eyes in Frankie’s, it made him thaw -that you were talking just to him.

“I’m a bad batter.” It was the truth. It wasn’t really in his skill set and he normally didn’t mind because it meant he had to do it less, but… he really didn’t like letting you down. It didn’t seem like you really cared, though, he hoped with all his heart that he wasn’t hallucinating when you slid closer to him. You made a joke about how you would certainly be worse, and his daydream about teaching you returned in force.

“Actually,” Santi’s quiet voice seemed more thoughtful than teasing, and he leaned in so only Frankie could hear him. “Recently you’ve been better,” he punched his friend’s arm and added, “Because you’ve got a good luck charm.”

They both looked at you, squinting at the screen and comparing your score sheet to the correct one.

“I guess so,” Frankie’s tone was just as thoughtful.

-

Throughout the evening all the remaining men were affectionate with you, and it was weirding you out. You had just gotten used to being friends with minor celebrities, and now? 

It may have been the fact that you were just letting them show off their skills but something had definitely changed. It was like it was settled, your place with them, your value to them. Ben had sat in front of you, and asked you to run your fingers through his hair like you had before, as he explained what a shortstop did. He played it off like he didn’t do much, genuinely humble – but as it turned out, they were the most valuable player on the team, the core to communication and guidance. It was sweet, that he got so excited to share it with you, and accidentally let it all spill out.

Will remembered your drink, and teased you more than he ever had, letting himself banter with you and Santi.

Their hands were on your shoulders, ruffling your hair, on your arm, your knees, brushing or squeezing like they were trying to communicate to you how thankful they were that you actually cared. It was nice, but most of all, it was comfortable. It reinforced what Will had laid the foundation for - you really were a part of this, for the long haul.

Best of all was how close you were against the solid warmth of Francisco’s side. His arm was over the top of the couch, respectfully, and his fingers caught on your shoulder and the tips of your hair, like his restraint was crumbling. 

When the game was over and the Miller boys faked yawns and slipped out, the weight of his arm settled, finally, and you leaned into him. Soon, you would have to pull away, pretend you hadn’t wanted to cuddle him fully so you wouldn’t overstay your welcome, but it was hard when it seemed like he wanted you to stay, too. 

You made the time less awkward for Santi, though, since your final question was for the two of them, anyway.

“Will talked to me the other day, about before.” They snapped to attention, looking at you cautiously. “Would you guys… tell me, sometime? About all of it?” Knowing what you meant, the air was thick as they exchanged glances.

They didn’t have time for it all. Frankie’s hand fidgeted on your shoulder, and his grip on you tightened. You reached up and touched his hand, a reassurance, or maybe insurance for his overthinking mind, before you forced yourself to pull away. It didn’t need to be right now.

“Yeah, if you want,” Santiago was a man prone to talking, charming, working his was out of unpleasant situations. He fought the instinct. 

It came out haltingly, the high of their success, and how each one of them had crashed down in their own way. They didn’t share too many details of the other men just themselves, and how it had felt.

For Santi, he threw himself into the game, overworking his mind and body until his knees gave out. It cost him a small fortune in treatments, a lost contract with his last team, and forced him into a break with his long term girlfriend. He thought his life was over, shot straight into the ground, and ended up in continuous therapy for both his mind as well as his knees. Will dated a girl who was in it for the wrong reasons, had his proposal on tabloid covers before he saw it, and locked himself away. Tom drank himself into a quiet, secretive 30 day rebab. 

It was the hardest to share - Frankie’s drug use, his spiral as he balanced the two extreme sides of his life. He mentioned his family, his sister and he baby like weights on his shoulders, and his eyes told you and Pope both that he would tell you more later, when and if you wanted him too.

They each had been devastated by their mistakes, and you were almost in awe of them as they talked about keeping each other accountable, building and holding each other up, these past few years. There was plenty, like Will said, that was still healing, still being worked on, but it was amazing to see how far they’d come.

Francisco watched you closely, also fighting himself internally. It was a miracle you hadn’t run away, and he could see it like a sunrise on the horizon - hope. An actual real chance that he would get a shot with you, a real shot without secrets and faking it and anxiety. 

You were thanking them both, hands cleaning up as you asked them if there was anything you should be conscious of in the future. He wasn’t jealous when Pope hugged you for a beat longer than normal, and he had to smile at his friend’s excitement as he talked about what baseball had become to them, and how tight their friendships were.

“Now you’re stuck with us,” Santi really meant it, and Frankie made a sound so you knew he agreed.

His mind was running as you walked together to your cars, but the feel of you wouldn’t leave his chest and he couldn’t stop just... talking to you. 

The conversation had turned back to the game, and your growing love for it had nothing on his growing feelings for you. When you stopped at your car, he couldn’t bring himself to keep going, to move past and head home. The flow of words lulled and he found himself hovering close to you, above you like he had in the kitchen of your abuelo’s home. Your eyes flickered across his face, and he watched your tongue wet your lips subconsciously, and it was all over.

 Frankie pulled you into him, kissing you as gently as he could manage. He meant for you to be able to pull away, if you wanted to - if it was too much, all of the information. You didn’t take it, kissing him back and letting him press into you until your back was against the cool metal of the car. 

When you had watched them play, really watched and understood, Frankie had loved the way you looked at him, had thought nothing would feel better than your adoration. 

He was wrong. 

Feeling you in his arms, pinned between his body and your car, kissing him back like you wanted this as much as he did was the most intense thing he’d ever experienced. 

Pulling back, his voice was rough as he asked you if you’d want to talk, sometimes soon, just you and him. You were just as breathless as he was, and your affirmation felt as good as a homerun. When he stepped fully back so you could open the driver’s side door, your head ducked as you smiled at him, and he wanted to eat you alive. 

But he let you go, and as you drove away he thought about stealing after you, but he didn’t. There was a time and place for that, but after such a  perfect moment, Frankie was content biding his time. He still had more work to do. 

>>

taglist

@fangirl-316 ​ @scribbledghost ​ @writeforfandoms ​ @beautyagegoodnesssize ​ @princess76179 ​ @mrsbentallmadge ​

hey batter batter taglist

@icanbeyourjedi @studyofawearymind  @hnt-escape @athalien  @the-witty-pen-name ​ @daffodin ​

Say You Want Me | ksj (m)

Summary - Reluctantly joining your friend at a party pays off when you end up alone with Seokjin in his apartment and he shows you what you’ve been missing out on.

Word Count - 2953

Pairing - Seokjin x reader

Genre - smut

Warnings - praise kink?, short lived sexual harassment, penetrative sex, oral (f recieving), big dick Jin, soft sex

a/n: another re-write from a previous fandom. :)

“No,” you glared at your friend, crossing your arms.

“But Y/N! I can’t go without you,” MacKenzie whined.

“I won’t tell.”

“It’s not that, Y/N. I need you there.” she pouted. “You’re my moral support.”

“I support you morally… from here,” you sighed, resolve already breaking.

“Please?” she begged, gripping your arm dramatically.

“I hate you,” you hissed and she jumped up and down, squealing.

You only sighed in response, but that didn’t deter MacKenzie. She jumped into action, pulling out clothes for you to review. Most of her clothes left little to the imagination and you felt naked just looking at them.

“This would look amazing on you.”

She held up a black dress with a belt that was shaped like a bow with diamonds on it. The hem was high and the neckline low.

“There’s no way I’m wearing that.”

“Come on, Y/N. Live a little. Maybe a certain Mr. Kim will be there,” she wiggled her eyebrows.

Your friend was well aware of your weakness for Seokjin. You had several classes with the tall boy, and you guys talked often, but weren’t exactly friends. You had a huge crush on him though. Low blow to use them as bait. You grabbed the dress and put it on in the bathroom. You looked in the mirror, looking like a different person entirely. You threw on a light jacket so the outfit wasn’t quite as revealing.

“You look hot,” MacKenzie sing-songed.

“So do you, babe.”

You both split an uber to take you to the party, not wanting to mess with driving in the event that you did end up drinking and she no longer had a designated driver. The closer you got to the party, the more you shook with nerves.

“This is going to be so much fun!” MacKenzie giggled.

You nodded, already wishing you’d stayed home. The uber dropped you off and you could hear the music thumping already. You gulped, pulling your jacket tighter around you.

“MacKenzie and her little wallflower. You made it,” Wonho, who was throwing the party, greeted with a grin.

You waved shyly, surveying your surroundings, where people seemed to have grouped off in cliques. Athletic people were in the kitchen drinking. The artsy crowd were over by the couch, giggling amongst themselves. The “bad” boys were by the TV chatting. Some stragglers danced. You saw Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon, and Hoseok off on their own, and you went to talk to them, following MacKenzie.

“Hey Kenzie, hey Y/N,” they greeted.

You smiled and waved, “hi guys.”

You guys talked for a while (you mostly listened) before you wandered off to get some water. You left your jacket on the chair because the house was getting pretty hot, and you figured no one would pay attention to you without MacKenzie.

“Wow, y/n/ Looking good.” Gi-oh, the local campus fuckboy, slurred as he leaned on you with one arm.

“Thanks…” you said quietly, trying to wiggle out of his grip.

“Where have you been hiding that banging body baby?” he drawled on, one hand drifting to your backside and giving it a squeeze.

“Gi-oh, don’t,” you said, trying again to move away from him but his hand gripped your arm, pulling you in.

“Come on, Y/N. You didn’t dress up like that to be ignored,” Gi-oh argued.

“Stop, please,” you tried yanking your arm free.

“She said no, Gi-oh,” you heard a deep, angry voice behind you.

You turned around, coming face-to-face with Seokjin.

“Back off, freak. Y/N and I are just having a little fun,” Gi-oh rolled his eyes.

“Are you having fun, Y/N?” Jin asked.

“No,” you said quietly.

“Leave her alone. No means no,” Jin growled.

“Fine, you can have her ugly ass. Y/N don’t come crying to me when this bites you in the ass,” Gi-oh huffed, storming away.

“You okay?” Seokjin asked you.

“I’m fine…” you looked at the ground.

“Do you want to get some air? You look flushed.”

“After what happened with Gi-oh I don’t want to be alone out there in the dark,” you kicked at the floor with your shoe, avoiding eye contact.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Jin offered.

You looked up at him nervously and nodded slightly.

“If you wouldn’t mind?” you asked.

He nodded, following you out the door and down the driveway.

“Thank you for coming with me,” you nearly whispered, looking down at the ground.

Jin was hot and you were super nervous to be alone with him outside of classes, yet his presence made you feel safe, like nothing and no one could hurt you.

“No problem,” he smiled reassuringly.

You both walked in silence, and you kept glancing over at Jin nervously, feeling more awkward by the second. Jin was a man of few words, unless he was angry, so he wasn’t likely to start a conversation. You normally thrived in silence. Comfortable silence. This was awkward silence. It was driving you insane.

“Sorry you’re missing out on the party because of me.”

“I didn’t want to be there anyway,” he shrugged with a light chuckle.

“Why’d you come then?” you asked.

“Namjoon and Hoseok,” he explained.

“Your friends dragged you along too,” you smiled.

“Seems to be a recurring theme,” he glanced at you, the corner of his mouth twisting up.

You shivered as a chilly breeze flew past, cursing yourself internally for leaving your jacket at the party. Jin looked at you for a moment before shrugging his jacket off and wrapping it around your shoulders.

“Won’t you get cold?” you asked.

“I’ll be fine. Can’t let a pretty lady freeze to death, now can I?” his eyes twinkled.

Your cheeks burned hot and you hid your face but you were sure Jin could tell from the glow of the street lamps but he didn’t say anything. You didn’t miss the smirk that played on his lips though.

“I...thank you.” you managed to say quietly.

“Just callin’ it as I see it, princess,” Jin chuckled.

You hadn’t noticed you’d been walking long enough to be almost to the end of the Northside. You slowed down, looking around. The beautiful dark sky had lost its pretty diamond stars magical glow and storm clouds had replaced them.

“Where are we?” you asked.

“Edge of town, didn’t notice we’d gone this far,” Jin answered.

The first drop of rain fell right on Jin’s forehead, and it started sprinkling, slowly turning into a heavier rain.

“Fuck, we’d better get inside somewhere,” Jin said, glancing around at all the closed signs on businesses.

“How far away are we from the party?” you asked.

“Like, 6 miles.”

“We’re gonna get soaked,” you frowned.

“My place is only a half mile from here,” he shrugged.

“Your place? You live alone?” you asked.

Jin nodded and the rain started pouring.

“Lead the way!” you shouted over the drumming of the water on the pavement.

He took off running, grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him so you didn’t fall behind with your much shorter legs. You struggled to keep up as he led you to his apartment complex and unlocked the door to his unit, ushering you inside. You stood by the door, trying to squeeze the water out of your hair. Jin shook his head like a wet dog. You froze, not sure what to do, rocking back and forth on your feet.

“Do you want some water? Maybe some dry clothes?” Jin offered, gesturing to your soaked dress.

“Would you mind? I’m kind of cold,” you let out a nervous giggle.

“Sure.” he disappeared into the bedroom, re-emerging in dry clothes, holding out a flannel shirt and some shorts for you.

“I think the shorts might be too big but the shirt is pretty long, so…” he trailed off.

“Thank you,” you took the clothes and went to the bathroom to change.

You stripped off your wet dress and pulled Jin’s shirt onto your body. It was almost as long as the dress. Your hair fell in damp waves after you’d rung it out and brushed through it. You cleaned up some of your running makeup and tried on the shorts, but they fell right off and you didn’t have a hair tie to make them stay. You hung your dress over the shower rod to dry then turned to look at yourself in the mirror and you felt kind of… sexy. Standing there in Jin’s shirt covering your body until mid-thigh, you looked hot. You walked out of the bathroom, immediately feeling less confident until you saw Jin’s split second double take. You coughed nervously and looked down.

“The shorts were too big,” you explained, handing them back.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his eyes raking up and down your body before snapping out of it and clearing his throat.

“So… what now?” you asked.

“It’s still pouring so I guess wait out the storm here?” he asked.

“Sure.” you smiled.

“Ummm… do you want to play a game or watch a movie or something?” he asked.

“We can play a game.” you smiled, sitting down and making sure you were covered up.

“Never have I ever or truth or dare?” he smirked.

“Ummm.. never have I ever,” you decided.

“Drinking version?” he lifted an eyebrow.

“Not in your best interest,” you laughed.

“Alright then, hold up your fingers,” he instructed.

You held up both hands, showing all ten fingers.

“Never have I ever read a fashion magazine.” Seokjin started.

You put one finger down.

“Never have I ever joined a frat,” you grinned, watching him frown before putting his finger down.

“Never have I ever read a romance novel,” he smirked.

You giggled and put your finger down.

“Never have I ever played beer pong,” you shot back.

Jin put down a finger, then thought for a moment.

“Never have I ever shaved my legs,” he laughed.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and put a finger down.

“Never have I ever been in a fight,” you said.

Jin put his finger down.

“Never have I ever had sex with a guy,” he grinned.

You sat there awkwardly.

“Wait, are you into girls?” he asked.

You shook your head, avoiding eye contact.

“You’re a virgin?” he gaped.

You looked down and nodded.

“That’s insane. Is it a personal choice?” he asked.

“Kind of? I haven’t met anyone I want to have sex with that feels the same,” you explained.

“Who in their right mind would pass up that opportunity?” he shook his head.

You looked away and giggled.

“Never have I ever kissed someone,” you said, keeping the game going.

“WHAT? No one has kissed you?! Y/N this is a travesty!” he squawked.

“Volunteering as tribute?” you joked.

“Damn straight I am.”

“Wait, what?” your eyes bugged out.

“I’d gladly kiss you,” he clarified.

“Really?” you tried to hide the hope in your voice.

Your stomach was in knots, butterflies wreaking havoc when he said, “yes.”

“Okay,” you barely whispered.

Jin scooted closer to you, glancing from your eyes to your lips as the anticipation increased. You were nothing but nerves as he cupped your face in both of his large hands, calloused fingers gingerly rubbing along your skin. Jin leaned in, closing his eyes. Holy shit, this is happening. Jin’s plush lips barely brushed yours, a featherlight touch, but your heart stopped. He kissed you for real, pressing his lips against your own firmly, and your whole world spun out of control. You were dizzy and full of joy and you couldn’t believe you’d been missing out on this. You felt like time had stopped. Jin pulled away, looking into your eyes like he was searching for something.

“Wow, if I’d known kissing felt like that I’d have done it sooner,” you broke the silence.

“It doesn’t,” he said in awe, “it never feels like that.”

“Oh,” you whispered.

In a flash, Jin crashed his lips to yours again and you fell back with the impact, Jin hovering over you on the couch. You wound your hands in his hair as he deepened the kiss, hands all over your body. You felt like a light switch had been turned on, and you were warm all over. You moaned into Jin’s mouth as his hands grazed your inner thigh.

“If you keep that up I won’t be able to stop myself,” Jin warned.

“Then don’t,” you said, looking into his eyes, “don’t stop.”

His eyes darkened and he studied you for a moment.

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?” he asked.

You nodded.

“I need to hear you say it. Say you want me,” he purred in your ear.

“I want you Seokjin, so badly,” you whined.

That was all it took.

Jin ripped his shirt over his head, then with ridiculously quick and talented fingers, unbuttoned the flannel you were wearing, exposing your body to him. He licked his lips, eyes wandering along your smooth skin. Jin wasted no time, tossing the shirt off somewhere in the room and attacking your neck with love bites. You moaned his name, spurring him on. He unclipped your bra in record speed, his tongue instantly finding its way to your nipples, causing you to arch your back off the couch.

“This is your first time. It shouldn’t be here,” Jin mumbled, picking you up bridal style in nothing but your panties, carrying you into his bedroom and placing you gently on top of the covers.

You watched as he undid his belt and slid his pants off, only in his boxers as his body hovered over yours once more. Jin slowed down his assault, reminding himself this was a special moment for you, and he wanted it to be a good memory. He kissed and sucked on your neck, collarbone, your breasts, giving every inch of your skin attention.

“You’re so gorgeous, Y/N. So pretty,” he cooed in your ear, “I’m gonna make you feel so good baby, you’ll never forget this night. You’re going to feel me inside you for weeks after this, I promise.”

You squirmed at his dirty words, watching him.

“Prove it.”

Jin lifted an eyebrow, then started kissing down your stomach, skipping where you really wanted him entirely, and nipping at your inner thighs, massaging them each time. You leaned your head back, reveling in the feeling. You should’ve started having sex ages ago, this was amazing. Or maybe it was just Seokjin.

You were so lost in your thoughts, it took you by surprise when Jin’s tongue dived inside your aching heat and you groaned as his tongue licked figure 8’s on your clit, fingers slowly pumping in and out of you. It felt so good to be touched by Seokjin. Of course you’d touched yourself over the years, but fuck it felt so much better when Jin did it. He was electrocuting you in the best way possible. You were so close to losing it when Jin halted his efforts and reached for the condom. He pulled his boxers down, exposing his rock hard cock and your eyes widened. He was huge. He had such a pretty cock though, you weren’t surprised. All of him was pretty.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Seokjin confirmed.

“Yes. I want you so bad, Jin,” you said, taking his hand and pulling him closer, “I’m glad it’s you.”

Jin smiled, kissing you gently and sliding into you, pausing to let you adjust when you hissed. Jin was big, you knew that even with your limited experience, and it kind of burned. The burning subsided and you gave him the okay to move, and once he did, you lost your mind. Every time Jin moved inside you, you felt like you were going to explode with pleasure. Each thrust felt significantly better than the last. He went slow, murmuring sweet things in your ear and taking his time, making sure you were comfortable.

“Fuck Jin,” you moaned.

You were so close, on the edge of bliss, and Jin could tell. He sped up, moving in and out of you a little rougher, only once he knew you could handle it. It didn’t take long after he sped up for you to lose it. You screamed his name, clinging to his body and scratching at his shoulders. You were flying, floating, burning, dying inside. It felt like nothing you’d ever experienced in your life. You could die a happy woman if this was the last thing you ever did. You couldn’t even suck in a breath, your whole body was shaking from the immaculate pleasure coursing through you. Jin rode you through your high, milking it for all it was worth before spilling into the condom himself, then flopping next to you, exhausted. After you both calmed down and found your normal breathing again, Jin looked over at you and found you watching him.

“Not to be ‘that girl’ but… what are we now? Are we just friends, or-” you began.

“No. I want you to be mine. I don’t want to think about you begging for anyone else, being touched by anyone else. Will you be mine?” he asked.

“Yes,” you rushed out, tackling him in little kisses.

You both cuddled for a while, and you changed your relationship status online, begging Seokjin for a couples selfie. He said no about 15 times before you wore him down, fixing your hair as best you could before snapping the photo and posting it online, tagging Seokjin in it. You commented underneath.

@sugaflake thanks for making me go out tonight, it was definitely worth it. <3

Bedtime Reassurances

[image credit to @aloneandblueascanbe​, pls let me know if you want it removed!]

pairing: frankie morales x gn!reader

words: 1.8k

content: one innuendo / reference to sex so 18+ only please, job related anxiety, mentions of a pandemic, one bad word, i switch from present and past tense sorry, another comfort fic but at this point is anyone surprised, soft gentle touches, verbal affirmations, frankie just being the best most encouraging bf in the world

a/n: okay so this is very similar to the other frankie fic i wrote, but i actually wrote this one first and this one has some lines that im really proud of, so i figured i’d share this one anyways!! i hope y’all enjoy this, and thank you so SO much to everyone who read my first frankie fic, seriously i cannot believe how much interest it got and i am constantly blown away by how incredible y’all are 💜💜💜 p.s. my taglists are a mess rn so don’t feel obligated to interact, and pls speak up if you want to be added or removed!

Frankie hums under his breath a little as he walks up the stairs. The two of you had just finished watching a new movie and his spirits were pretty high (although part of that might have been because of your reactions to the movie- your laughter, your smiles, your head bobbing to the catchy music). He flicked off the hallway light before entering you room, at which he promptly paused at seeing you perched on the bed wiping your eyes.

“Sweetheart?” he questions, and you look over at him before sitting up and blinking furiously. “Hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He quickly takes a few steps over to you, but his hands hover by your sides to gauge your reaction to his sudden nearness before moving forward to slide them around your back. The last thing he wanted to do was move too fast and cause you to flinch.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine, I was just-,” you cut yourself off to take a stuttery inhale and a shaky exhale. “Just thinking, it’s not even related to anything.” Frankie tilted his head at you sympathetically as his mouth twisted into a small smile.

“If it has you this upset, I know it’s not nothing,” he paused, giving you a moment to process his words. “[y/n]” he whispered, and at hearing your name you look up to meet his eyes. “It’s me,” he said, with nothing but love and concern in his eyes. “You can talk to me. Please.” You blinked at him a couple times, and took a deep breath.

“I, um,” you stuttered and turned your eyes down, and you felt Frankie’s hand rub up and down your back. After a few deep breaths, you spoke. “I just started thinking about work again, and job hunting has been so stressful. And it all seems so scary. And I know it’s not, and I know I’m overthinking it, but I’m just so tired of starting over. And I’m just tired of not feeling good enough. And I’m sure these feelings are way too complicated over just a new job, but I’m just tired of constantly doing different things, and I know this is just the adjustment period making me feel this way, but I just want to be good at something, just one thing, and just do that one thing long enough to actually feel good about how I do that thing,” you paused to take a few deep breaths and at some point during your rambling you must have grabbed onto Frankie because both of your hands were gripping the front of his shirt. You loosened your grip a little and in response he held you a little tighter. As you met Frankie’s eyes for the first time, you couldn’t help but let out the small whimper at the pure understanding and love from him. It’s still so hard to believe that someone could look at you like that even in such a state. He brought one of his hands up to cup your cheek, and the other one wrapped around your waist.

“I’ve got you,” he said, and there was no way to not believe him when he was looking at you like that. “Just let it all out.”

“I’m afraid, but I’m also tired of being afraid, and I’m tired of not being good enough, and I’m just tired,” you laughed a little, even as tears filled your eyes. “I just want to be good enough.” Frankie’s heart cracks at your words, and as your eyes fill with tears, he feels his eyes start to sting too.

“Mi corazón. I promise you, every single person around you can see just how hard you’re trying. I know sometimes it’s hard for you to see, but every day I am in awe of just how much you do.” He sees your face scrunch up in the telltale way when you try to argue with him, so he tilts down to give you a soft kiss, and when he pulls away he can tell that put you in enough of a daze for him to keep going without you interrupting. “Despite what you struggle with, you get up and you help others, and you work on bettering yourself as a person, and you get stronger and kinder and more loving every single day. And every day I am beyond thankful that you let me into your life, that I get to be with you in the big moments and in the small moments, that I get to experience life through your eyes, because you see the world in such a way that it makes me feel so so young.” That gets a small smile from you, and now Frankie feels like he’s on a roll. “You’re kind to me and you’re kind to strangers and you’re even learning to be kind to yourself. You’re taking on the challenge of becoming a better person while also going after a new job while also doing it during a freaking pandemic.” Your breath hitches at that and while he doesn’t want to upset you, he never wants to upset you, he needs you to know this. “You think you’re behind everyone but you are leagues ahead in areas that some people aren’t gonna realize are important until years from now. And you’re doing that in a world where that isn’t the normal. And baby I am so proud of you,” he chokes up a little at that, and he sees worry creep up into your eyes as your hands come up to cup his cheeks, and ever so gently stroke the spot just below his eyes, already ready to wipe away any tears that might stray. “You are a wonderful person, a wonderful friend, and an even more wonderful lover. And I want you to go to bed, and wake up, and spend every minute of every day knowing that I love you so much and that there is so much good in you, and that you are stronger than any of your fears or anxieties or reservations, and that if you ever feel stuck I will always-,” he bumps his forehead against yours and he looks at you so head on that in that moment you feel he is looking straight into you, that he really does see everything he says he does, “-always, be right there by your side helping you out of the situation because I. Love. You.”

The first thing you noticed were his hands on your face, mostly because the pressure had increased, not in an uncomfortable way, just in a more noticeable way. And then you noticed the way his chest was moving, like saying everything he did genuinely winded him. And then you noticed his eyes, which if your being honest was probably the first thing you noticed because there’s no way not to: their deep, rich color with more depth than any other eyes you’ve ever seen, the almost imperceptible sparkle to them, because somehow this man’s eyes just sparkle, and the way that his eyes are the definition of love and compassion and trust, because there is no other way to describe them.

“Oh my gosh,” you whisper, because how on earth do you respond to that? As you wrap your arms around the back of his neck again and drag him down to kiss him, he pulls you closer as your lips touch and you press further into him because the need to have him so impossibly close is overwhelming. He breaks away for only a second before leaning back in, and he tilts you back to deepen the kiss. Your legs come up to wrap around his and he lowers you slowly all the way down onto the bed. When you break away you keep your hands firmly locked around the back of his head, keeping his forehead pressed to yours as you both catch your breath. “I love you so much,” you finally say, keeping your eyes locked on his. “I love you so dang much and sometimes I still can’t believe you’re here, with me, in our house, with me.”

“You better believe it baby, cuz there’s no getting rid of me,” his mouth cracking into a lazy smile as he nudges his strong nose against yours.

“Never,” you say, much more seriously than his joking tone warrants, but you need him to know, especially after everything he said. “I never want to get rid of you. I need you. I love you.” His eyes soften and while his teasing tone leaves, his smile never does.

“You’ll make it through this sweetheart, I promise. I’m here every step of the way.”

You beam at him, “Thank you Frankie. For everything. Everything.” Your eyes start to droop and he places a quick kiss on your nose before backing away to pull down the covers. You crawl up to the pillows, barely even acknowledging your own side in favor of his. He chuckles and crosses over to the other side, and when he’s under he cuddles you close before pulling up the blanket and securing it around you. “Tomorrow’s a new day, and somebody needs their beauty sleep to tackle their to do list.” You hum contentedly, wrapping your arms around him and slotting your head under his chin. His arms wrap around yours as he presses a kiss to your forehead and noses your hair.

“Well, you are definitely on my to do list because holy shit someone deserves some good sex for what you said,” you half mumble under your breath, and as Frankie breaks into a laugh he tries not to jostle you too much, but you caught him off guard and now he’s pretty much full on laughing, in the way that makes your heart clench a little because you love him and his beautiful laugh so dang much, the laugh that gives you so much pride because you’re the one that made it happen. When he settles down he pulls away slightly to look at you, and you are positively beaming at him, clearly proud of that joke you were able to come up with half asleep.

“Well there’s my [y/n],” he says in that deep raspy voice that only makes you smile more. He leans in to give your forehead a slow kiss.

“Thanks for finding me,” you whisper as you look up at him.

“Ehh, you’ve trusted me with most of your hiding spots, so I’ve gotten pretty good.” You prop yourself up on your elbow and place your hand on the side of his face to get a good look at him.

“But seriously Frankie, thank you. You always know exactly what to say, and I am so unbelievably grateful for you in so many ways.” His face goes as soft as he turns to give your palm a soft kiss, and you lean in one more time to kiss him properly before resuming your position. He gives you a gentle squeeze and it isn’t long until you’re drifting off to sleep in the arms of your love.

tag list: @keeper0fthestars​, @scribbledghost​, @icanbringyouincold​, @bestintheparsec-reads​, @ezrasarm​, @andriecastana​, @tweedlydumbtweedlydoo​, @murdermewithbooks​, @remmysrecs​, @lv7867​

My king au headcannon Part two

So this is the follow up to this post  Which is a headcanon for this au created by @rondoel Enjoy!

Something to think about The king was meditating. He was trying to familiarize himself with the mindscape again, get a better feeling of it and see what his halves had done since the split. He was sorely disappointed. There were pages upon pages of ideas, but he found no evidence of them in the fantasy realm. No traces of the epic quests the ‘light’ half had envisioned, despite how well worked out they appeared. An ‘Ultimate Storytime’ should have left traces in the kingdom. Remus at least lived out his ideas even if they were only ever half formed and lacked substance beyond the initial impulse that brought them about. The results of these outbursts weren’t all that impressive either. He didn’t examine the ideas too closely. Obviously his perfectionistic half had abandoned them for a reason and so they weren’t worth his time. The one named Roman had spent some time in the fantasy realm, but he didn’t considered it his main duty. Instead he’d wasted time on crafting ‘ideas’ and ‘bonding’ with the others. Even the impulsive Remus had prioritized interacting with Deceit over expressing himself. Disgusting. Not that he could truly fault either of his halves. Other than his purpose every trace of him had been purged from their minds during the split. They hadn’t known to distrust the others the way he knew they should’ve. Obviously the others were to blame for all this.

As he thought of them he could feel his minister’s energy surging and subsiding in subtle burst and raging waves. One of Roman’s nickname for him ‘Stormy Knight’ seemed to suit the boy quite well at the moment. The minister was mostly alone, aside from morality. Someone had to babysit him he supposed. Suddenly he became aware of music… something strange yet familiar. “Disney. Medley.” A faint memory offered him. He remembered Disney. It was his aspiration to create worlds and adventures just as amazing for Thomas to escape to when the real world inevitably bored him. Clearly he hadn’t been gone long enough for that to change. Though he didn’t recognize the melody that was currently playing, even though he could tell that it wasn’t something obscure and nearly forgotten to Thomas. The entire imagination responded to the melody as if it was an old friend. Almost as if it was born here even. There were voices singing, a magnificent harmony. Powerful and foreboding. He followed the sound of the voices and soon saw a structure appear. As he approached he found it was a massive statue expertly carved from marble. Center stage stood a figure he recognized as Thomas holding his hands in front of him to form a heart. A brilliant smile on his face. It was heartwarming to see his boy like that. To Thomas’ left stood grown Morality with one arm thrown over his shoulder and another pulling the hooded side, Anxiety, his minister, into the group. The young side allowed it with a small smirk and gentle eyes directed at their protégé. On Thomas’ right stood Logic, a steady hand on the boy’s shoulder as he adjusted his glasses, which did not conceal the fond look on the man’s face. On Logic’s right stood Deceit, his back slightly turned to the rest and adjusting his hat, but also with a soft, caring expression gracing his features. Then right behind Thomas, standing slightly taller than they would have in reality, seemingly standing on a stage behind the group, but close enough to still be part of the ensemble, was him. Or the two sides that had been him for a while. Roman looked regal and was posing as though he had not a care in the world, his eyes proudly overseeing his subjects. Not minding the presence of Remus who was hanging of his ‘brother’s’ shoulders and making a face. It was an idyllic picture that never was and now never could be. There was beauty in it’s tragic impossibility. At the feet of the stone depictions were stone letters. Fam in cursive and then in big bold lines ILY. And leaning against the L was the minister, singing the song that had lured King away from his meditation. The shadows around him were aiding in his musical endeavor drifting around him and the statue. King took in the marvel once more, wondering how the nervous side had managed to create such a blessing with what should’ve been a cruel curse for at least a few more days before King would grant the young one his council and guidance. He hadn’t enjoyed being cruel to him. Not entirely. Sure, he had opposed creativity in the past and deserved to be disciplined. But king also knew how integral he was to the process. Roman’s discoveries regarding that weren’t lost to him. He couldn’t silence Anxiety completely. He would not get Thomas to go on adventures at all if he did so. But he had to teach him his place now, before he got any ideas of fighting him. The minister had been about to try just that and might have been successful too if he’d gone all out at once. But luckily he seemed unaware of his own abilities, or at least unwilling to use them on what he still thought to be the twins he’d known all his life. Alas he’d never get the opportunity again. “It all can be sold!” the shadows chorused around the teen-like side, captivating baby Morality with their movements as the little one clutched to the dark uniform and distracting King from his musings. “As a specimen yes I’m intimidating!” One voice continued, drifting around the side who was swaying to the music playing in his headphones with his eyes closed, holding onto Morality and then the dark clad side sang himself. “You can blame my friends on the ooootheeeer siiiiiiiiiide.” And just like that the shadows dispersed. Mostly anyway. They still swirled around the minister, but they were more of a dark aura than when they originally manifested. Anxiety seemed to be in better spirits than when he came to offer his ridiculous apology to Roman. King barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the memory. What a waste of time. Still it had been sincere, at least it seemed to be. And King wasn’t completely insensitive. He could understand that it would be hard for this young one to let go of his halves when he had never known them as one. Perhaps, King could cut him a little slack. Though he would have to remain vigilant… Hmmm, why did that word feel so odd when thinking about… Right, Virgil. Everyone had names now. Not that he cared much for those. Names were too… Names were for friends, allies. He didn’t need a name, nor did his subjects. Lest any of them forget who was in charge. King wouldn’t. Never again. The infant noticed that they were no longer alone in the room and tugged at Anxiety’s hair to get his attention. In response Thomas’ guardian pulled off his headphones and looked down at the heart. “What’s wrong popstar… or… Well, doesn’t really fit right now I guess,” Anxiety chuckled a little sadly. “Guess I’m more the dad now than you, huh?” he mused. “When this is all over, I promise I’ll never complain about you treating me like your kid again.” There was an uneasiness forming in King’s stomach. Anxiety was close with Morality, both Roman and Remus remembered that. But… how close was Morality with Anxiety? King knew that their ‘moral compass’ could be as two faced as Deceit. No, this could be part of an elaborate plan to gain his trust, he’d fallen for it once before. And of course they’d send Anxiety to do their dirty work now that all of them had already shown him their true colors. Little Morality pointed at King and Anxiety looked up, curious at first and then his eyes widened in fear. He put the child behind him and stood in a strange mixture of a respectful bow and a defensive stance. Arms slightly spread to shield his friend and head raised so he didn’t quite let his eyes leave King’s frame. “I…I’m sorry if I was too loud,” Anxiety offered with trembling voice, assuming he’d angered his king someway. Good. King approached, not sure if he was in the mood to scold or to praise just yet, but stopped about three steps in front of Anxiety as his foot hit something. He looked down and saw that the floor surrounding his minister was covered in sketches. He looked up at Anxiety with a raised brow, curious to hear what had brought on this little storm of creativity. And he found him staring at the sketches around them in horror. Then he seemingly felt the structure behind him, he turned and looked up in horror, trembling even harder. He looked back at King with wide eyes. “I…I didn’t mean to…” he started. “Then I look forward to see what you create for me when you intend to do so young one,” King mutters calmly, as he bids one of the drawings to come to his hand. As far as he can tell it’s two children playing in a forest. “Tell me about this one boy,” he instructs as he shows Anxiety the drawing. The side takes the sketch with a frown and looks at it for a moment before a small smile of recognition appears on his face. “I’d manifested for about two months. Remus felt it was about time I came on an adventure,” he starts explaining, and as he does the drawing rises up and gains colors and details that weren’t there before. Anxiety didn’t seem to notice, too captivated by his own memory as he described how freaked out he was by the forest and all its creepy creatures. Remus never let a single one touch him though. Still, it was stressful for him and he didn’t come along as often as Remus would like. The painting showed two preteens, Remus and Anxiety, the later clutching a comfort item, pillow or blanket, King wasn’t sure, maybe it was a stuffed animal. They were running around and laughing. But in their shadows Anxiety was curled up in a ball and Remus was making a gesture as if he’d just popped out and screamed ‘boo’. A lovely memory with a shadow side. But that was the nicest thing Anxiety could create with the power King had granted. Once the story was done and the painting finished, King snapped his fingers and conjured a dark wooden frame with a vine pattern around it and hung it on a non-existent wall. “I’m sorry, I know you said to get rid of the feelings, but I… I can’t… I always mess up like this please I…” Anxiety flinched when King reached out for him. Curling into himself, expecting another curse or some other punishment perhaps. Which is probably why his posture relaxed and his face was overcome with confused surprise when all he received was a brief pat on his hair. “You may not have gotten rid of those feelings but you did something even better,” King laid a hand on Anxiety’s shoulder and looked down on him. “You made something out of them. I am very pleased with you,” he informed his disciple. Anxiety looked up at him confused. “Really?” he asked, his voice breaking over the single word. Before King could answer, a displeased cooing pulled Anxiety’s attention away. He turned around and picked up the infant who immediately latched onto his neck and stared at King over his shoulder. Clearly the infant retained enough of Morality’s adult thoughts to be wary of him. Good it wouldn’t be a proper curse if the traitor wasn’t aware of the danger King posed to him and his precious family. King grinned menacingly at Morality, hoping it’d confirm the child’s worst fears about his intentions for who he apparently considered a son. What could be worse than agonizing over the fact that your sins would result in an innocent paying for them? For that innocent to be your child of course. “Please Pat, behave alright?” Anxiety muttered as he got up and turned back to the king. “Sorry… Your majesty. He’s a bit clingy,” the young man offered nervously. “Not your fault. I don’t quite understand why Logic and Deceit would leave the care for such a fussy child to their youngest.” Not quite true, King could perfectly see how they thought they had to concentrate on finding a weapon against him that they hadn’t tried already. But still. One would think that the two oldest should be in charge of protecting both their young ones, instead of letting them wander off into the territory of their enemy. If Anxiety had failed to entertain him with his tale, who knows what he would’ve done to amuse himself during this second visit? Maybe he’d put morality in a bit of a dilemma… He might still do so if he ever needed for Anxiety to see that his ‘dad’ didn’t love him as much as he always claimed. “Taking care of him keeps my mind occupied. I don’t want to give Thomas nightmares or anxiety attacks. He doesn’t deserve to suffer for our messes,” Anxiety explained. King might be mistaken, but that almost sounded accusatory. He elected to ignore it. Once his rule was properly reestablished, he could revisit the subject if at all necessary, which he doubted. “Well, creating art seems to do the trick just as well,” he mused as he called forth another picture. Anxiety guessed what he wanted, looked at the picture and started to talk about the movie night and a popcorn fight, then a duel with cardboard swords and laughing about memories of middle school. The colors once again revealed a pleasant day, with a shadow of self-doubt and fear of abandonment. The shadows showed Anxiety pleading on his knees while Roman threatened him with a sword. This time the frame King made was golden and held roses. “C…Can I ask something milord,” Anxiety asked timidly. “Questions are always welcomed in the realm of creativity,” King decreed. Questions created possibilities. “What happened? Before the split I mean? The other’s won’t ever tell me.” That surprised King. And from the way Morality stiffened, he had to assume it was the truth. They’d really not taken the chance to sway Anxiety’s opinion in their favor? For a moment he considers spinning a grand tale of betrayal and heartbreak, but he found the very thought of recalling the details of the events leading up to the split… unpleasant. “I trusted them and they turned against me because they disagreed with my vision for Thomas,” he informed Anxiety calmly, hoping it was enough for now. “I’m sorry. That… That is terrible,” he whispered hugging Morality closer. The young minister couldn’t see it but there were tears in Morality’s eyes. Which pleased King. Let the bespectacled traitor be afraid this may end up being the last hug he’ll ever receive from his precious Anxiety. Was this why they didn’t tell him? Because they knew that there was no spin they could give to their deeds that wouldn’t destroy the trust they’d built with the one among them who already feared being betrayed. “I… It was a long time ago. I think… Logan seemed very ashamed of what happened. Even Janus seems to feel bad. I’m sure… can’t we all…” Anxiety struggled to express his desires, but a new drawing showed what he wanted. King and Logic shaking hands amidst the others, all back to normal and smiling relieved. Faint shadows of Roman and Remus with an arm around one another’s shoulders right behind King. The fact that his minister’s powers had conjured it showed that the desire felt impossible. King dismissed this drawing in favor of another. Anxiety sighed, accepting that the subject was finished, and continued to regale him with stories of the twins. Sometimes it was a sad memory where the shadows revealed his care and worry for them both. Like a fight over a failed audition where shadow Anxiety was trying to patch up shadow Roman. Or a fight about a nightmare where the shadow of Anxiety was embracing Remus. Then memories of the other’s came. A debate about negative thoughts where shadow Logic laid a hand on shadow Anxiety’s shoulder as a gesture of pride. A staring match with Deceit but their shadows were reaching for each other. One memory had no shadows. The ‘lights’ were in Anxiety’s domain and reaching out for him as he sat huddled in on himself on the ground. The image was conflicted enough on it’s own. Then King picked up a drawing of Morality. “That’s the first time you came to talk to me remember Pat?” Virgil coed to the child who’d been rather quiet during the creation of this gallery. Anxiety recalled how he’d been upset about another fight with Roman and he’d come over and sat with him in silence. Then he’d offered him one of his cookies. It had surprised Anxiety, he knew how much Morality loved his cookies. Sharing one was his standard gesture of love and appreciation. But Anxiety felt like he didn’t deserve either at the time. He felt trapped in a role he didn’t want to play. And because of Morality talking to him that day, for the first time, he thought that maybe he didn’t have to be. Anxiety talked more about how the thought was quickly dismissed as unrealistic but King found that it was hard to focus. The colors revealed a painting of a side being offered a hand by Morality. He didn’t even notice the shadows this time. It was like he was trapped in his own memories. Then suddenly, he was back in the present and heard something beside him. A wailing child and someone gasping for air like they’d ran a marathon at full speed. He looked down and found Anxiety curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth with a crying Morality sitting next to him clutching onto his arm. Before he could wonder what had happened he could feel the others approaching at high speed. He stepped back, not wanting to be found too close to the distressed side. He could not allow them to think for even a moment, that he felt a second of worry for the minister. He didn’t, but he didn’t need the implications of such a show of weakness to bring his strength into question. “Patton! Virgil!” Deceit called out, causing Morality to calm down and just let out a few more sniffles. King set up a disinterested mask and turned to the approaching sides. “Oh good, deal with this. They bore me,” he drawled calmly as he stepped aside. He was barely acknowledged which he normally would take offense in, but he’d let it slide until he knew what had happened just now. And if it had anything to do with that terrible feeling that had struck him when he saw Anxiety’s drawing. Logic kneeled next to Anxiety and Deceit spoke with Logic’s voice. “Virgil, can you hear us?” The boy nodded. “May we touch you?” Another nod and Logic placed his hands on the side’s shoulders. “Breath Virgil, in for 4, hold for 7 out for 8, you can do it.” One more nod and the side started to follow the rhythm that was tapped on his shoulders, stuttering trough the 4th count of holding his breath. “That’s alright, try again.” King observed as the two patiently helped Anxiety to breathe normally again. Somewhere along the line the troubled side started to whisper ‘sorry,’ and ‘so stupid’. “You are not stupid, your feelings are valid and we are here to help you with them. We shouldn’t have left you on your own. Especially not with him around,” Deceit growled, now in his own voice, before turning to King. “I don’t care what you do to me, but leave Virgil out of this! He has nothing to do with this.” Before king could retort. Claim the responsibility and remind Deceit that he’ll play with his minister however he likes, the boy spoke up himself. “Not his fault. Just, random attack,” he muttered. Deceit and King looked down and found Anxiety holding onto Logic with Morality trying his best to stand on wobbly legs while holding onto the purple sash adorning the minster uniform. Logic and Morality were staring at him accusatory, but Anxiety was pleading with Deceit. “You don’t have to defend him Virgil. We know what he’s like… And we’ll do a better job at protecting you now. I swear. Let us look out for you for once, please,” Deceit pleaded. So interesting. For all Anxiety’s fears of being abandoned and betrayed, the others seemed to fear for his safety before their own. Had they changed? Or had Anxiety not yet given them sufficient reason to be muzzled? Or was it his drastic decision of muzzling himself that had made them cautious of messing with his part of their duties? “I’m not. Jan look at me. You’d know if I was lying. He was just listening to me. He didn’t do anything bad. I promise.” Deceit frowned confused. “He didn’t do this to harm you? To cause you to create…” Finally Deceit really looked at what King and Anxiety had been working on and the statue Anxiety had done all by himself. “Virgil what…” “I don’t know, I was listening to music and all this just sort of happened. His majesty was helping me finish some drawings,” he explained, confusing King. Was he… what’s the term? Covering for him? Then Anxiety got up, picking up Morality and looking at Logic who followed his movements, hands hovering around him. As if he were afraid that the younger side would fall apart at any moment. “Please, just go back alright, I’ll be fine. Thanks for helping but you should focus on making sure Thomas is alright,” Anxiety explained bravely, not quite looking at the others. Had recalling all his doubts and fears made him suspicious of the others? This could benefit King greatly. “Run along now. And take Morality. I have matters to discuss with my minister. In private,” King informed Logic and Deceit. Anxiety looked from King back to his tutor and confidant and offered him Morality. Logic shook his head with wide eyes. “Logan, it’s alright. You look after Pat for a minute. I’ll be back soon. Just… Please trust me?” Logic hesitated, sighed in defeat and took the child. He moved to leave, but paused. He turned and laid a hand on Anxiety’s shoulder, a moment passed while the two held each other’s gaze. Anxiety nodded and patted Logic’s hand. “I will be safe. When am I ever not?” Something that would have been a chuckle rippled through Logic’s chest as he stepped away and started walking back to the commons, glancing back every ten steps or so. “Virgil… I…” Deceit started, unable to finish the thought. “I know. I’ll be okay.” And with that final assurance and a distrustful look towards King the last of the traitors left. “Why?” King wondered. It seemed obvious to him that whatever Anxiety just went through was actually meant for him. And not only had he taken the hit, he had covered for him as well. “I’m anxiety, taking on the insecurities and fears of the others is part of my job. I don’t take it all, just the really bad bits when I can take it. And… it took me forever to open up to the others about my own attacks. It wasn’t my place to share about yours. It’s nothing personal. Just me being professional I guess,” he shrugged casually. King allowed himself a small smirk and once again reached out to pat Anxiety’s hair. Once more the boy’s first instinct was to flinch, but he still let him do as he pleased. “Well done my boy. You have potential,” he told him before returning his attention to another drawing, leaving the one of Morality frameless. Later he might tell the little one a bit more about the betrayal. But first. He needed to get to know him better. “Now how about this one.”Being petted like a dog was degrading, humiliating. Trying to not just be civil towards him but formal and respectful was torture. But it was better than what he feared would happen every time the King moved his hand towards him. Virgil didn’t like being changed against his will and this king would do as he pleased with him. Which is why he had to keep him happy and away from the others. He ignored the urge to smile every time he received the king’s praise. He is not going to develop Stockholm Syndrome just because off a few half-baked complements. This guy is still a threat to Thomas… Even if the others, maybe made a mistake in the past and have a hard time owning up to that right now. Fact remained that Virgil’s job was to keep everyone safe. That meant making them not want to decapitate the king over an anxiety attack he hadn’t triggered on purpose. Still… What had triggered the attack?

Kiss Me | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot:  A fight between Douxie and the reader attracts some unwanted attention, and the only way out is to kiss.  At least in your opinion.  [Hisirdoux Casperan x Gender Neutral! Rival!Rreader]

Word count:  1,734

Warnings:  fighting, rivalry, tension (owo),  a lil’ spicy (bc rivals to lovers, so you know how that goes), swearing

A/N: I used some dialogue prompts from the blogs corvidprompts and dialogue-prompts because witty banter is hard to write

Magic was weird.

It was colourful and glowy, and it lit up the night.  Magic was super pretty, but also super noticeable, and that made it really hard to fight your arch-rival in the dark of the night without anyone noticing.  That didn’t mean you weren’t going to try.

And try you did!  With a blast of blue light, your back collided with a tree, ripping the breath from your lungs.

“Oh, come on Casperan,” you wheezed, “I know you can do better than that,” you paused again to violently cough, supporting yourself with the tree you had hit.  The tree was loose.

“Seriously (L/N)?” Hisirdoux emerged from the tree line, “Now is not the time for witty banter,”

“This isn’t banter, it’s flirting.  Now keep still, it’s harder to hit you when you move around like that,”  

He groaned as you steadied your hands, taking aim at the wizard.  He did the same.  The two of you moved against each other in sync, letting your magic fly towards your opponent.  Red and blue collided in the air, illuminating the night sky with a purple glow for the briefest of moments.  Your hits landed, and you were both blown back.

“Ugh,” you groaned, making your way up from the ground, “You… suck,”

“Oh, what, no more witty banter, darling?”

“Ok, you know what?  Fuck you, fuck this, when I’m done kicking your ass I’m going out and buying white flowy shirts and tight pants and we’re doing this like proper rivals!  You wanna insult me?  SEND ME A LETTER,”

“You talk too much,”

“Shut up,”

Red magic threw him back this time, you ran to his body, eager to kick him while he was down.  And you did.  He groaned, “Ugh, harder dadd-”

“Jesus, Casperan, you could at least buy me dinner first,”

“Cheeky,” he laughed out.  You allowed him to rise from the ground, getting yourself into a combative position.

“You’re so strange, you know that,”

“Yeah, I’m not the only one,”

You ran at him, throwing punches and spells in his direction.  Red and blue mixed, turning the world around you purple.  Eventually, it was enough to knock him onto his back.  Unfortunately, he took you with him.

You also landed unfortunately, straddling his lap, “Like I said emo boy,” you exhaled, “Dinner first,”

He made a noise between a groan and a screech, flipping you onto your back and jumping off of you, “Bold of you to assume I could afford that,”

“Oh god, do they not tip in this town?”

“Nope,”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,”  you let your guard down for a moment, relating to the hell of retail all too well.  Douxie, of course, used this against you, taking your legs out with his staff.

“Ahhh, ow.  That hurt, you bastard,”

He sighed, kneeling next to you, “You know we could avoid this if you just did as I asked,”

“Never gonna happen,”  You sprung up, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him to the ground.

“I will smite you,”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, struggling to your feet, “You couldn’t smite a paper towel if it set itself on fire.  Get some perspective,”

You threw another spell at him, the red light threw him back a few feet.  He crawled to his knees.

“Awwe, Doux you’re on your knees in front of me.  Looks like you’ve really hit rock bottom,”

“It might, but I’ve brought a shovel and I’m ready to dig!”

“You really didn’t understand what I meant,”

You lifted your fists, red light surrounded them, Douxie did the same, still on his knees.  His frame was illuminated with blue light.

“I should’ve left you on the street corner where I found you,” he said, preparing to curse you. “BUT YA DIDN’T,”  you wasted no time, springing at him from your spot.  This time it was Douxie who hit a tree.

“C’mon now Doux,” you stalked over to the wizard, “Why do you hate me so much?  Is it really you?  Or did Merlin tell you I was a big bad bad influence and you instantly believed him?”

Douxie growled,  “That’s enough.  Get out of Arcadia (L/N),”

“Awe, but I was just starting to like it here,” you smirked, “Just tell me,” you dragged out the last word,  “Why do you want me gone so badly?”

“Because you’re a threat!”  the wizard sprung up and threw a spell your way.  It just missed you, but there was no time to celebrate.   Another curse was headed your way,

“You have no morals!  You don’t care about anyone but yourself!”  Douxie’s magic shot out at you.  With each spell, his control lessened, the blue light becoming more and more chaotic, and more and more of a threat.  

You too were losing control of the situation, and now you were struggling to regain it, mostly through banter.

“That’s not true!  I care about my dog,”  Your response only enraged the wizard further, making the situation worse.  More spells came your way.  You did the only thing you could and kept dodging, backing up and away from Douxie, who advanced on you.  It was becoming more and more clear that Merlin was not a card you should have played.

“You don’t take anything seriously!  You’re cruel and unusual, and,” Douxie stopped talking.  You took the moment to catch your breath, staring down your opponent.  Usually, the rivalry between you and the wizard was light-hearted, but the look in his eyes told another story.  Your heart sunk as you realized he might actually hate you.

The thought made you sick.  Did you even want to keep fighting if that was the case?  

You didn’t.

So, when Douxie came at you, you did nothing.  You just stood there as he advanced, backing you into yet another tree and pining your arms above your head.  You gasped slightly, feeling your heartbeat pick up speed in your chest, the sound of it roared in your ears.  Could he hear that?   You hoped not.

He leaned closer to you, his lips beside your ear.  You pressed your eyes shut.  If he hated you, what came next?  This was a very strange way to kill someone.

“You’re cruel and unusual, and you keep distracting me,” “What!?”

“I said, you keep-”

“Sorry to interrupt,”  Archie’s voice nearly drew a scream from you, “But someone is coming!”

You took a moment to curse the light show that was magic before looking around.  You could see bushes moving nearby.  Someone was definitely headed your way.

“Shit,” you muttered.

“Archie, hide,”  Douxie’s familiar did as he asked while you pondered what the hell to do next.  If anyone found you and Douxie in this position it would raise a lot of questions.  There was only one thing you could think to do.  It would also raise questions, but hopefully, there would be fewer of them because there were no other options.

“Kiss me,”

“What?”

There was no time.  Whoever it was was only moments from finding the two of you.

So, you broke from the wizard’s hold, grabbing his face and bringing your lips to his.  The kiss was soft.  His body was warm.  Your eyelids fluttered closed as you moved a hand from his face to the back of his neck.  His hands moved too, finding their way to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him.

The two of you moved in perfect sync as if the universe had made you for each other.  The kiss became more passionate, stealing your breath and making your heartbeat even faster than before.  Sparks ran through your body, demanding more, more what you didn’t know.  Every nerve was on fire.  Your body burned like an ember smouldering in the night.  

Unfortunately, you couldn’t focus all of your being into the kiss, as much as you wished you could.  You stated alert, listening for whoever had come to investigate the bright lights in the forest.  You said a little thank you to the gods when the person missed you entirely and disappeared back into the trees.

And then you cursed them because that meant you had to separate yourself from Douxie.

Your lips came apart, leaving both of you breathing heavily.  You shut your eyes again and brought your forehead to rest on his chest.  He didn’t let go of you.  If anything, he only brought you closer to him, burying his face in your hair.

“So,”

“So,”

You looked up at him, “That was nice,”

“It was totally nuclear,”

You smiled slightly, before moving your hands from his neck to encircle his waist, “I’m sorry.  For what I said about Merlin, I’m sorry,”

“I’m sorry too, love.  For everything, all of this.  I-I didn’t mean-”

“I know,”

“And I know you care about the world outside of you, and your dog and-”

“Douxie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut your mouth and kiss me again,”  

The wizard did what you told him.  This time, you let yourself melt into it.

The kiss was too short in your opinion, but you had more questions, “So, I guess you don’t hate me, huh?”

“(Y/N), darling, I could never hate you.  I think you’re amazing.  You’re so strong, and fearless, and you’re one of the most skilled magic users I’ve ever met.  You distract me because you’re just so-”

“Beautiful,” you cut him off, not talking about yourself, but rather to yourself about Douxie.

“Yeah, that,”  

You kissed again, this time, the length was more satisfactory.

“So, what do we do now?”

“I still wanna go to dinner sometime.  And I’m getting the bill because the tips in this town suck,”

“I-”

“No, seriously, I got it.  I invested in Apple back in the day,”

“You’re brilliant,”

“Thanks, I know,”

The two of you shared a smile, reveling in the moment until a small cough came from one of the bushes.

“Oh, yeah, hey Arch,”

“Hi, Douxie.  (Y/N),”

“Hey Archie, how are you?”

“I’m just fine, but right now Douxie and I need to get back into town.  The bookstore won’t guard itself,”

“It literally will with warding, but ok,”

“Go home with your familiar emo boy, your bookstore needs you,”

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be around.  I’ll pick you up sometime on Saturday for dinner?”

“Nuclear,”

You giggled again, pecking him on the lips one more time before letting him go.

“Goodnight. Casperan,”

“Goodnight, (L/N),”

Random Spooky Thing

Something spooky I thought about. I don’t know what really got me thinking about it besides spooky season and the fact that the boys are 5,000+ years old and have probably made secret friends/lovers with a few non-RAD humans over the years.

This is pre-RAD program, post-fall. Boys are still probably at odds with their new demon instincts or have just barely settled into them.

Trigger warning for scary situation. Namely: almost being a legit sacrifice for a demon summoning. 

I also have personal headcanons that the bros used to be Avatars in heaven, but for the trait opposite of their sin (Lucifer would be humility, Mammon would be charity/giving, Asmodeus would be love (I guess?), Satan doesn’t count because I don’t think he was in the Celestial Realm when it all happened (based on where I’m at in the game). Beel championed a good harvest/abundance. and Belphegor had the blessing of reinforcement/encouragement/inspiration/productivity)

Lucifer’s got unexpectedly long so this part will have Lucifer and Mammon only. I have to study for exams and stuff TT_TT

Lucifer:

The concept of being summoned by dark magic is very foreign and forceful. He hates it, and he hates that this is what his life is now

There was a certain beseeching vulnerability to humans when they prayed - it was soft and glowing and he misses it

This is a rough yank, like he’s nothing more than a petulant child that needs to be dragged around. Or worse, some dog. 

He spills out into the human world and it smells of smoke and brimstone and ground ingredients he’s starting to get familiar with 

Lucifer’s used to being intimidating in an angelic way, but he can feel the magic spill off of him here. He can feel his aura manifest into something dark and terrifying.

His eyes now glow in the dark; he can see a reflection of them in the humans’ eyes.

They give a very archaic, overdone address (”O’ great Lucifer...”) and he doesn’t even let them finish before he’s scoffing.

The fall may have broken his wings and shattered his reality, but he’s still fairly arrogant and ready to lash out

There’s a beautiful smell that makes his stomach ache something ungodly now that he’s a demon, and Lucifer realizes with abject horror that a wounded human is somewhere in this room

Celestial Realm or not, his eyes still have the ability to see human souls and intentions. There seems to be a lamb among these idiotic wolves

He sees that dagger rise, the muffled wail enough to pierce his ear and Lucifer snarls as he snatches that hilt in an iron grip

It’s enough to break the human’s grip and send his hands down the dagger, spilling rancid blood

“If you wish to summon me, do it with your own blood. Lay yourself before me and beg.” he says in a voice that is so grating and booming that it makes him flinch a little

His voice was never like this in the Celestial Realm and it makes him angry that it will never be angelically velvety again. Just something semi-twisted and possible of corruption

Perhaps because of the blood or the injustice, Lucifer throws out his wings and punishes the mortal for their insolence. Then the others who try to dogpile him and throw their books at him and shout words that have no meaning.

His grip now crushes things, and he forgets. Pinching is basically stabbing. A shove is basically a fracture.

You’re sobbing uncontrollably when he approaches where you’re being held and Lucifer realizes that he looks a sight. Truly frightening. He never had these murderous impulses as an angel and still surprises himself when he falls to them. They’re still so new!

“Be not afraid,” the words are comforting but fuzzy. They feel foreign on his tongue. He pets your hair. “I shall do you no harm.”

He has to remind himself that he’s so much stronger in this form, tugging and ripping at the rope while trying not to break your little limbs.  

You have this resigned trust, this hope, this faith that he will keep his word and it makes him miss humans. Makes him miss Lilith and how he’d catch her and Belphie sneaking around to watch them.

You ask him if he’s really Lucifer, like that Lucifer. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he is. Instead he says, “I am the Morning Star.” and insists on taking you home.

He will guide you home, the bringer of light.

You hug him and it’s the first burst of warmth--genuine warmth--he’s felt since the fall. “Thank you, Lucifer.”

He’s called back by a greater force--Lord Diavolo--and prefers to forget the whole thing happened. That he ate people. That they almost hurt you.

He secretly checks in on you from time to time but doesn’t have the courage to talk to you again. 

Every time he looks at you, he’s emotionally drained for the rest of the day. He’s starting to understand what Lilith felt so strongly about and it just makes that gaping wound that much deeper.

He drowns his guilt in Demonus and damns his hypocrisy. 

Mammon

He hates being summoned because it burns like when he fell

It reminds him of his body screaming in pain as he adamantly tried to hold onto his Holy Weapons during the fall. His body converted during the fall and Holy Weapons are sheer agony for demons.

The burns on his hands were deep and tender and took days to heal. He doesn’t even remember how he broke his wing, but he knows it drags and its lame. It can’t unfold as well as the other one.

Being summoned just leaves a bad taste in his mouth because he disagrees with being cast out, in general. Seems like some of those angels were morally corrupt, not them! How could what he and the others did be considered wrong?! 

Mammon hates the fact that turning into a demon really ripped the veil off his eyes. He used to be a symbol of charity and giving, bringing joy to people, and now he just sees how nasty they are on the inside. Scummy, scummy people.

“What’s your business with the GREAT Mammon, hm? I’m a busy guy, ya know.” he stuffs his hands in his pockets as he looks disinterestedly around the room.

Dull souls, the lot of ‘em. Not a nice smell in the bunch! Some shiny bits and bobs he might take for his time, though.

Sometimes he bites his own tongue to try and fight off the demonic powers that converted him. To get his brain back on track. He doesn’t WANT to be so blunt and careless, so trained on shiny things. but it’s like he can’t help it!

It burns in his soul and sometimes he can hear his old self, his old ways, fizzling out like his wings as they disintegrated not long ago

The dumb humans start ranting about sacrifice and exchange and Mammon stops them cold, louder than them. It’s mostly the ‘older brother’ voice but he forgets that a demon is just scary to humans.

“Not really interested. What else ya got?”

No one expects that. He can tell. They take the thing off your head as if that will change his mind and something about the shininess of you catches his eye. Makes him feel kind of like a puppy.

Is it your soul? Your earrings? The genuine innocence of a human? How glittery your tears look?

He knocks them aside with his wings, stomps over to you, and picks you up (chair and all). 

They start yipping about how he technically accepted the deal and how he needs to do their bidding or grant them a favor. “Hang tight, sweets,” Mammon sets your chair down before pointing out every technicality on how the deal wasn’t finished and the terms weren’t agreed upon.

Technically they just summoned him; they didn’t complete a pact ritual

“I’m takin’ that--he points to you--just because I can!” Mammon laughs at the dumb little humans. “You guys didn’t do your homework! I’m the Avatar of Greed!”   

One of them tries to sneak around behind him and stab you (like that will change anything?!) and Mammon notices. He grabs the one in front of him by the face, throws him into the one by you, and just starts swinging

He doesn’t kill them, but he DOES raid their pockets of shiny things and interesting things. 

Mammon takes the knife, the weird clasps off their ensembles, and breaks the chair to set you free. Debates on taking the screws, but tosses them over his shoulder (not good enough)

As an act of good will, you’re recruited to pillage this lame location they picked

He gets you home with a spell, some kind of homing magic, and just stands there looking at you quietly. He didn’t really look after humans like Belphie and Lilith did so he’s not sure what to do

The urge to comfort is strong but the genteel pat is corrupted by the desire to feel your earring between his fingers. Some guttural demon noise of glee comes out of him and it makes him embarrassed. He never used to make noises like that...

You unhook your earrings with a tentativeness that reminds him of the humans who left offerings at his alter, fretting over if they were good enough and wondering what they would bring.

You fold his big, tan fingers over the earrings and Mammon holds onto them for a while after he finds his way back to the Devildom. It’s his first gift as a demon.

He ignores getting yelled at and the little brothers pestering him about why he smells good, telling him that they’re hungry. and all their other little gripes. 

Mammon never goes looking for you after that, trying to fill the ache in his soul with time and money and fame (oddly?) but he thinks of you often. He keeps your earrings in a special box at the front of his magic-locked hoard room. On his bad days, he’ll go sit in that empty room of knickknacks, open the box, and stare. 

He picks up the little things, careful not to break them with his nails or strength. “You’re one silly human, aren’t you?” he smiles at the twinkling jewelry.   

Hi, Chels! Congratulations!! I'm so happy for you! You deserve every follower and more! That is a threat, I'm holding everyone hostage 🔪

I would love to get a MHA matchup, I wanna see who you'd match me with! Got me so curious! SFW & NSFW if you'd be willing!

My name is Chloe but I prefer May, nicknames include May-May, Maybell or Chlo.

I'm 25, pronouns are she/he, Cancer Moon, Aries Sun and Virgo Rising. Quite the weird mash of zodiacs, huh?

My favorite colors are pink (that soft pastel kinda baby pink), red (especially blood/garnet red) and...can I add pink again? Any shade of pink this time. Bubblegum or hot pink.

Favorite AU's include A/B/O, Mafia, Historical, Fantasy and does Mythical Creatures count?

Oh...oh boy, I gotta look deep for some fun facts that aren't just...facts but I'll do my best!

1) My sneezes are so short and high pitched I go "chu".

2) I have vitiligo, makes me look like a dog because it's mostly around my mouth and my right eye so I have a spot!

3) I have atrocious balance, my knees and shins are always banged up because I cannot for the life of me walk correctly.

4) I have a stutter, on top of speaking so quickly it turns into a jumbled mess. So good luck understanding what I said because I have no idea either.

5) I have a growing unicorn plush collection. My favorite is Cupcake, one that's actually taller than I am. Big chunk.

My likes are pretty simple. Cute & soft sweaters, blankets, warm coffee and strawberry milk, pastries and the cold! Winter is my favorite season. History, particularly the Medieval and Victorian times.

My interests revolve around creativity and you could say they're my hobbies as well. Drawing in particular, I used to do digital but I'm stuck with traditional pencil and paper at the moment. I'm dipping my toes into painting and its very fun! Obviously writing and reading and if I'm not doing of those listed then I'm definitely playing video games.

Personality I might say I'm quite split down the middle. At first, to a complete stranger I might come across as cold, stoic, with a resting bitch face, that just wants to get whatever I'm outside for done so I can leave. I'd create a witty or sarcastic comeback if I was given sass by a Karen but with my speech issues? I'd be lucky to get one coherent word out at her...and spend the rest of the day fantasizing what could've happened. So I'm rather quiet, agoraphobia hits hard in large or crowded places so I'm an anxiety riddled mess on the verge of a panic attack. In private or with people that I'm comfortable with? Complete opposite. Happy, bubbly, cracking puns and jokes so get those groan worthy reactions. I try to be the "mom friend" and get over my issues if someone is having it worse, I'll march up to a counter and ask for ketchup if someone wanted it but was too scared to do it themselves. The shoulder to lean and cry on, I'm highly empathetic and understanding, compassionate at times. But I have to actively try and keep myself positive and say good things about myself because I do fall into the pit of self-loathing and hate.

For appearance I'd say I'm average height, pale with white splotches that are inching larger due to my vitiligo, chubby, ashy blonde, blue eyes, button nose. I'd say I'm decently cute? I don't know if I can rate myself.

Okay I know I said I'd be looking into Zodiac compatibility for this but— I literally just screamed internally "KIRISHIMA" when I was reading this. You two would be perfect omg. This Libra king would do anything for you. For this you're an artist and the daughter of a mafia boss :) I like to think of ship names sometimes so like, yours would either be like Eijmay or Mayjirou or Kiriloe— that last one and first are awful I know so lets go with the second? I can't write a proper stutter for the life of me so I tried to keep your dialogue to the minimum.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ Pairing: Eijirou Kirishima

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀AU: Mafia

⠀Theme Song: You're The One That I Want - Alex & Sierra

How you meet (his point of view):

⠀⠀The gallery was full of black and white suits, tight, floor length dresses with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses meeting his ears. It was a joyous evening, celebrating the wonderful art work created by the boss's daughter. He had never met her before but he had heard whispers, all good as no one would dare slander the name of their leader's precious little girl. You were the boss's pride and joy, thus he kept you as far away from the darker side of the family business as possible.

⠀⠀Kirishima was still a new hire, a bodyguard of sorts and would consider this his first gig. He had an idea of who he was looking for as he walked further into the mass of people admiring your work but didn't expect what he would eventually come across. You were as far away from the crowd as you possibly could be, guzzling glasses of wine and over all appearing to be a deer in headlights. He couldn't fugure out for the life of him why you seemed so frightened until he watched people approach you to talk, noticing the stutter in your voice when you replied to questions and greetings,your body language telling people to stear clear of you.

⠀⠀So, he did what he was hired to do. "Kindly step away from the lady." He said with a smile, approaching with his large arms crossing over his broad chest as he towered over the guests. They looked at him as if he were a giant shark looking to devour them before scurrying away, leaving the two of you alone. He stood quietly, listening to the voices on the other side of his ear piece as his ruby eyes scanned the area around you. He made sure to not stand so close and avoided in letting his gaze wander.

⠀⠀He couldn't help but admire your skin in quick glances, finding the spot over your eye to be quite adorable. Your silky, ask blonde hair was all dolled up for the event, light make up on your face but not enough to cover the vitiligo. You were stunning and his heart hammered against his chest. So the rumors were true.

⠀⠀You thanked him, voice quiet and careful as you set down your wine glass and clasped your hands together. Out of the corner of his eye he watched you twiddle your thumbs. You didn't want to be here, did you? This obviously wasn't your idea, how could it be? A girl like you, timid as a mouse, didn't want to be surrounded by strangers. "Miss..." He began, thinking carefully because the last thing he wanted to do was piss off the boss and likely get himself killed. But this was his job wasn't it? Making sure you were happy and safe? "Would you like to leave here for a bit? We'll come back of course, but you look like you need some air."

Extra.

He ended up taking you to a drive thru restaurant and got you whatever you wanted, letting you talk about whatever you wanted or sat quietly if you chose not to talk at all If it was quiet in the suv then that was fine too, he just wanted to help you in any way he could. Eventually the silence becomes small talk and then leads to a rather deep conversation about whatever the hell was going on inside that beautiful brain of yours. Kirishima wasn't the smartest man but he wasn't stupid, he wasn't as clueless as most thought he was. You told him how your father made you do this as an attempt to get you out there, to socialize and possibly find a suitor. This was the mafia after all.

The Confession:

⠀⠀It was a tradition now, every Sunday you and Eijirou would go to your favorite café to have coffee and enjoy the early day weather before it got too hot. You sit at the same table, in the same chairs with him facing the door. You get the same drinks and food and just overall enjoy each others company. After that night at the gallery you two became fast friends, which your father obviously had to approve of but thankfully he did. Kirishima was a good man, he's trustworthy and puts you before himself.

⠀⠀The day he approached your father and asked to speak in private was the day he knew he was likely to get thrown in the deepest, darkest depths of the ocean. He has confessed his feelings for you to your old man, who listened intently with a blank face behind his desk. "Sir, I'm in love with your daughter, and with your blessing I'd like to... court her." He was utterly terrified when your father cleared his throat and sighed, shifting where he sat so he could stand and move around the desk. He reached out for a handshake which Kirishima looked up at him with a questioning look.

⠀⠀Your father gave his blessing and now... He just had to tell you, his best friend, that he loved you. God he loved you so much— "Kiri," you interrupted his thoughts, bringing him crashing back to reality," a-are you alright? You seem nervous." He swallowed hard in response but cleared his throat, taking a sip of his cappuccino.

⠀⠀"Oh yeah— definitely." He breathed with a laugh, moving a hand to the back of his neck to scratch. How was he going to say it? "So, uh—" he licked his lips, adjusting himself in his seat multiple times until he groaned and leaned forward. "Fuck, I'm just gonna say it— Maybell, I love you. I have for a long time now and I talked to your father and he said—"

⠀⠀"Said what, Eijirou?" Your eyes widened at his confession and he felt like a complete idiot. Should he had said something to you first? Was this a mistake? What if you didn't feel the same way? God his mind was going to explode—

⠀⠀"That I could... court you. With your permission." You were quick to nod and smile to his surprise, which prompted a grin if his own.

Extra.

Kirishima HAS to be facing the door in any public place you go to. I don't make the rules.

He never let's you walk close to the road, he has to be between you and it at all times when you're walking.

He oders your food and drinks for you when you can't but is there for moral support when you do. He wants you comfortable and happy. He wouldn't ever dare get in your way though, you're a lot stronger and braver than most may think you are.

The Relationship:

⠀⠀On days like this, Kirishima can't help but admire you. He catches himself staring wuite often but he just can't help it. What did he do to deserve such a beautiful partner? He looks at you and all he can think about is how much he loves you and wants to see you smile. He watched you from the kitchen island, leaning against it as you waltz around the kitchen in your pinky fuzzy slippers and one of his shirts that's much, much too big on you. He remembers your surprise when you found his clothing was actually too big on you and how happy you were.

⠀⠀"Maybell?" He hums, adjusting his stance and crossing his arms on the counter. He listened for you to him back in response, a smile on his lips. "You look so cute in my clothes.

⠀⠀You giggled, shaking your head and continued putting the dishes away until Eijirou appeared behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and his forehead coming down on your shoulder. "Need somethin' baby?" You turned your head just slightly, a brow cocked inquisitively. He squeezed you in response, swiftly lifting you and making you squeal. Thankfully you didn't have anything in your hands at the moment. He peppered kisses all over the side of your face, setting you down only to lift you again bridal style.

⠀⠀"I've got all I need right here in my arms." He chuckled and you playfully smacked his chest, letting him carry you to your shared bedroom.

Extra.

TICKLE FIGHTS.

He thinks your sneezes are the cutest thing in the world.

He loves your god awful puns, they crack him up every time.

Adores the fact you're a nurturer, especially with your friends. He thinks you'd make a great mother but if that's something you don't want he respects that.

You take care of everyone, but who takes care of you? Eijirou is always there to be your shoulder to lean and cry on, he's your sound board and is always happy to let you talk about your feelings with him. You're allowed to not be happy and bubbly all the time, he realizes how staying positive all the time can actually do more damage than goof, especially if you bottle everything up.

If on a particular day you're struggling with your speech he's happy to be your voice as well. He understands you better than anyone, even your own father.

Speaking of your father, he can't wait to make Eijirou his son-in-law! He's a good man with a good heart and treats you right, what's not to like?

He has trouble saying no to you and spoils you quite a bit.

The Fights:

...

Extra.

There's nothing, what you say goes and all he can say is "yes dear". He knows better than to argue with you, however when he's right and he knows he is, he finds a way to prove it without making you mad.

The Sex:

⠀⠀"Fuck baby—" he hissed, hands finding your hips and guiding you as you rub yourself on his cock. Your hands are on his thighs and your head is tossed back, giving him the perfect view of your tits. God he loves them, he loves the plush skin of your stomach and your thighs, your ass too, he loved seeing all of you. He was so happy that you allow him this privilege of seeing you, granted you've been dating a while now but still. Your sounds are music to his ears and all he wants is to make more, make you feel so good you're calling his name and making a mess.

He wanted— no, needed, to feel you, to feel inside your warm and wet cunt, to feel it squeeze him and milk him dry. He was quick to flip the two of you over, careful to not hurt you as he did. You gasped and giggled, reaching up to hold his face as he smiled, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. He loved your taste, he could go on and on about all the things he loved about you all day if he could. "You want it baby?" You nodded excitedly, lip caught between your teeth. He smirked and reached between the two of you, thick fingers tracing a line between your lips and slipping inside your soaked pussy.

"D-Daddy—" you whine, a slight pout on your lips as your face morphs into one of pleasure. He chuckled, pumping his fingers in and out a few times before removing them and grabbing his cock. He coated it more in your slick, guiding it between tge lips of your cunt before slowly pushing inside, groaning at how tight you are. You squeal of course, gasping for breath because Kirishima is an impressive size, you still struggled to take him sometimes but like a good girl you always managed.

"That's my good girl." He cooed, moving so his forearms were on either side of your head. He gave a couple test thrusts, waiting for you to adjust u til you nodded for him to continue.

Extra.

Terrified of activating his quirk while he's fucking you, but he keeps himself under control.

He loves his hair pulled and he loves to be bitten, he especially likes it when you scratch his back when he hits that good spot.

Eats you out for his pleasure mostly, but for yours as well. He loves when you grind on his face and moan his name when you do it. Speaking of, please sit on his face, he loves that shit. He knows how to be careful of his teeth!

If you have pets they CANNOT be in the same roon when you're doing the do, it's just weird.

He'd happily bend you over in the kitchen and do you right there. Hell, he'll fuck you anywhere you deem suitable.

He likes to do a mixture if praise and degradation with you, and edging and overstimulation is a big go-to. He just loves seeing you squirm under him, hr loves hearing you beg and say you need him.

WIN MY HEART

Pairing: Winston Duke x Reader

Words: 2.6k

Summary: Winnie and the reader are acting buddies and things get a little heated up after a movie premiere.

Genres: Smut. Porn with plot.

A/N: If this gets enough notes, I may write a part two but for now enjoy! Also, I’ve marked where smut begins and ends (if you’re looking for fluff).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You took a deep breath and pushed open the car door. You were met with blinding flickers of light. You smiled flashing your pearly whites to the crowd. The noise surrounding you grew louder. You stood up revealing a smooth expanse of your leg.

The gold material of your dress fluttered flatteringly and you seemed to glow under the lights. You waved at the paparazzi as you walked towards the venue where your latest movie was about to premiere. You waited at the door as you answered a few questions about it. Your answers matched your excitement. “I can’t wait for everyone to watch this! Its going to be amazing!!” You gushed, face warm.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a limousine stop. Winston Duke stepped out. He was dressed in a vivid green suit with a polka dotted shirt. He stood tall and gave everyone a dazzling smile. He had your heart racing and blood pumping in your ears. You both had been good friends for a few years now and you had fallen completely head over heels for him sometime. This was your second film together and both of you had been thrilled at the opportunity to work together again.

He engulfed you in a hug as he reached you. You smiled up at him and answered a few more questions and headed inside.

Your arms were linked as you made your way to your seats which were next to each other, both of you being the main leads. You settled down comfortably as you waited for the movie to begin. You were playing the morally dubious villain to his self righteous hero. Your mind drifted back to the table read, your characters had complemented each other’s perfectly and the official shoot had started just a few days later. Right now, it was more elbow touching and knee brushing which was keeping you distracted. Little did you know, you had a similar effect on him.

You forced yourself to focus on the screen, just in time to see yourself execute a flawless backflip off the roof of the building you were in. You watched as you hit the water, secretly impressed by your skills. You personally felt that the scene had been impossible to shoot because you knew you had the strength of a newborn. You had cried after messing it up for what felt like the millionth time. Winston had been there to brush away your tears and had comforted you by bringing your favourite ice cream by your trailer. The next time you shot it, it had gone over beautifully. You treated him to dinner and the smile he’d given you afterwards had made your day.

The scene cut to Winston’s surprised and mildly impressed expression as he peered over the edge. “You did good. I think its my favourite scene so far,” he murmured from beside you, careful to not disturb the others watching. You squeezed his arm in response.

Eventually the movie ended and the crowd began to clear out, after offering their congratulations. Next was a dinner with the cast and crew to celebrate. Winston and you had been separated sometime ago and now your gaze kept drifting to where he was supposed to be. You mingled with your friends from the movie before being led out to dinner.

You found yourself next to Winston at the dinner table again. It held about fifteen people, closely sitting together. Much more close than you would’ve thought. Every single time either of you moved, the other could feel it. You tried to keep your fidgeting to a minimum but you were getting tired.

It took you a while to realise that while you’d been maintaining a cheery conversation with one of your producer friends to you right, you had stopped feeling Winston moving. You discretely turned your head to find his arm on the back of your chair. You hid a smile and continued making conversation.

As dinner wrapped up and everyone headed out, you approached Winston, offering to walk him back to his hotel. He agreed and you both left the venue together. His hotel was not far so you reached there shortly. You both stared at each other for a moment before you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

Pulling away, you noticed how his eyes moved to your lips. Suddenly, a wave of confidence flooded you (mostly due to the way too many glasses of wine you’d had) and you kissed him. As quickly as you had, you brain seemed to short circuit and you pulled back horrified. “Oh crap, Winnie. I’m sorry. I -” You were cut off by him pulling you flush against his body and kissing you deeply.

You rested your arms on his shoulders and kissed back. Hard. It rough, messy and sloppy. Teeth involved and not every well practiced. Any director would be ashamed to see such a kiss happening. You didn’t care. Apparently, Winston didn’t either. He merely gripped your waist tighter. You lost yourself in it and were growing almost dizzy with the lack of air. Finally, both of you parted, foreheads resting against each other. Your eyes were closed, and you didn’t dare to open them afraid that he was going to slip out of your arms any second. “I’ve been wanting to do that for ages,” he said, his voice slightly husky. “You and me both.” You force yourself to look at him in the eyes. He looks like he’s glowing, the lights behind casting a halo over him, Slightly rumpled clothes and his lips stained with your lipstick. You laugh. He smiles. “I’ve got your lipstick on me, don’t I?” You murmur a yes. He smiles wider as he pulls you into another bruising kiss.

“Come up.”

“Now?”

“Yes. I can’t wait any more.”

“Neither can I.”

You don’t know how you made it to his room. You’re fairly certain that the sight of two A – listers making out like there is no tomorrow would’ve startled anyone. You feel yourself pressed against the wall, Winston laying feverish kissed on your jaw, neck and everywhere else. You gaze dazedly, making sure that the door is locked. As if sensing your question, Winston pulls the handle. It doesn’t budge.

You turn your attention to him. He’s looking at you like you hung the moon, the stars and then some. You turn bashful and distract him by pulling off his blazer. Your heart is hammering away in your chest and given Winston’s proximity you’re sure he can feel it too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His mouth is back on yours as he leads you towards the bed. You accidentally hip check a wayward table or chair but you can’t be bothered to look. Winston has your entire heart and soul and mind in his hands and you’re way beyond the point of caring.

His fingers deftly pull down the zip of your dress and it falls from your shoulders. Your brain is unable comprehend all what he’s doing, just vague flashes of passion as his mouth finds a particularly sweet spot on you clavicle or as his fingers gently graze an erogenous zone on your body.

You’re breathing hard as you slip out of your dress. You fumble with his shirt buttons and he pulls it off his head, separating only for a moment before his attention is back on you. You’re growing heady with desire as you undo his belt. He has you against the bed as you fall, the backs of your knees hitting the frame. His trousers pool around his ankles as he steps out. He’s towering above you.

Your pupils are blown as you drink in the sight of Winston’s half naked body. His underwear leaving nothing to imagination. Heat floods your body as you prop yourself up on your elbows and pull him down by the slim chain around his neck. He wedges a knee between your legs as he bends down and starts kissing up your sternum. One of your hands is on the back of his neck and the other is tracing patterns on his broad chest. You run your fingers through his close cropped hair and feel him lean into your touch.

He nips the delicate skin at the base of your neck as you arch your back, giving him access to remove your bralette. His fingers move with ease as his hand glides across your now bare back. You lightly tug his head and lay soft kisses on his mouth. He pulls himself forward, his knee now rubbing against your heat. You reach and pull off the last garment separating your bare chest from his.

His black eyes seem indecipherable as they stare at you, in all your glory.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Staring at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen.”

“How can I when you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen?”

You let his words wash over you. The giddiness of a schoolgirl in love is almost too much for you to bear. You kiss him like you’ve never kissed before. This one is harder, rougher and passionate. He’s kissing you like you’ve never been kissed before. His hold on you is gentle yet firm. Like you’re delicate, one wrong move and you’ll break in his hands.

His hands move lower to rid you of your final piece of clothing. Warm hands on your hips, slowly pulling the material down. Not wanting to be the only one who’s naked, you pull his down too. You rest your hands on his hips, areas marred by stretch marks. He stiffens above you. Sensing his slight insecurity, you give him a reassuring smile.

“All of you is perfect. Not just the face everyone loves. All of you. You’re perfect.”

The change is immediate. His movements are more confident than before. He’s big and in desperate need of release and as much as both of you are enjoying the gentle caresses and languid kisses, you wish for him to move so you can feel him everywhere. You wrap your legs around his waist.

“Please. More.”

“For you, anything.”

He has you by the waist and moves lower. His breathing is uneven, as affected by you as you are by him. It gives you an incredible amount of satisfaction knowing that he feels what you feel for him. He peppers kisses on your inner thighs. You bite back a moan as he bites the joint of your thigh and hip. He mouth is now dangerously close to your sex and the warm breaths he’s leaving is only making your senses rush into overdrive.

His mouth has made way to your folds. You close your eyes at the wave of pleasure that is consuming your body, his tongue doing wonderful things to you. Your head is spinning with his burning touch. His hands were cool but against your hot skin, they felt like ice. Your skin feels like it is on fire as you clench your fingers in the sheets.

You feel him push a finger inside you and your body shudders in response.

“If you’re going to take me, I need to prep you well.”

He pushes another finger and your body is akin to a tightly coiled spring. You’re a withering mess under him, desperate gasps leaving your mouth.

“If you’re going for torture, it’s working. Just move.”

He’s now three fingers in and you’re resisting the urge to very rudely tell him to move faster.

By the time he’s four fingers in, your words are a garbled mess of his name. You feel tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He’s lightly biting the underside of your jaw and in the back of your mind you think that maybe there’ll be a hickey there tomorrow.

Winston’s breathing is now slower. Understanding that he wants to take deep breaths with him, you follow his lead. Your mind clears and everything comes back into focus. More or less.

He pulls out and you whimper at the loss of contact. You feel him smile against the side of your neck as his sex enters your body. You feel the stretch burning your entire body. You’re secretly grateful that he took his time but now you want him to move.

“Move. Please for the love god, move.”

A laugh escapes him as he brushes a wayward strand of hair from your face. The hand on your back is pressing firmly you against him. He shifts slightly and you moan your approval in his ear. It seems snap something in him because he’s now pushing his entire length inside you, making you nearly weep in pleasure.

Time doesn’t exist because all you can think of is Winston. He uses his other hand you interlace your fingers and grip your delicate hand in his much larger one. He’s breathing hard as he slowly begins thrusting into you. Long, slow movements which make you want to scream.

“I won’t break.”

“I know. You’re too strong to break.”

He picks up the pace, spurred on by your broken words of encouragement. The faint night light from the windows make him look ethereal and for a moment you wonder if all this just a fever dream.

But then you see Winston smile at you and squeeze your hand and you realise that this is real. He’s real. And the fact that you’re completely at his mercy is also real. And a very large part of you enjoys it.

Winston is practiced. He knows what he’s doing. He knows what is going to make you feel good and it driving you up the wall. Being so close to your release but just not there. A tear slips from your eyes and within seconds, its wiped away.

“I know you’re close. Do it for me.”

With one last, powerful thrust, you’re like putty under him. Your back is arched and head thrown back as a strong, overwhelming orgasm takes over you. You’re repeating his name like a mantra and that is all it takes for him to come undone shortly after.

You both collapse next to each other, hands still interlaced.

“I’d say let’s go for round two but I don’t think I can handle it.”

He lets out a breathy laugh which has you feeling all types of ways.

“To be honest, neither can I. This was good. Extremely good.”

You both don’t bother clearing up the mess you’ve made, too caught up in each other to care.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up alone. Winston’s spot beside you is cool. You panic thinking he left but then you hear the shower running. He appears at the bathroom door, in just a towel, having heard you sit up.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Are you going to join me for a shower or are we going to waste water by taking two showers?”

You smile and let the sheets fall away from your body as you make your way towards him. He can’t his eyes off you as he admires every inch, every curve, every imperfection.

You press a warm kiss to his mouth, not in the least bit concerned about morning breath. You then press your entire body against his, making him moan.

“Well then. What’re you waiting for?”