#like yes she is a homewrecker but shes also someone just trying to find that genuine and REAL love | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mellowswriting · 3 years

Note

2, 3, & 48 with the least expected choice: JAVI BB! 😭 Please I just starve for domestic!Javi a lot

Second Chance

pairing || Javier Peña x F!Reader

summary || Javier comes back to the U.S after taking down Escobar to find you - and what he finds changes his life forever.

word count || 4,824

warnings || angst with a happy ending, soft dad Javi, allusions to sex

a/n || This was so interesting to write, because Javier as a dad??? Yes please! Also because I’m so used to writing mainly fluff that angst can get a little tricky for me. Thank you for this little writing challenge, anon!

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Two years. It had been nearly two years since Javier had seen you - correction, since he had watched you walk out with tears in your eyes and did nothing to stop you like a fool. It was one of his biggest regrets, and that was saying something coming from a man whose job required him to make hard and fast decisions that often left people dead. All he could do was hope and fucking pray that you wouldn’t slam the door in his face.

Even if he did deserve it.

A drive that typically would’ve taken only an hour from the airport took nearly double that, Javier’s hands shaking and stomach turning the entire time. He should’ve done this sooner, should’ve followed you out that door or hopped onto a plane and met you back in the States. Nothing felt right without you, the world around him slightly distorted by your absence. An absence that was entirely his fault.

He shouldn’t have snapped at you. All you had wanted from him was the promise that he would try to play it safer. It was a simple reassurance that he could have given you if he hadn’t been such a moron and snapped at you that if you couldn’t handle the realities of his job, you had no business sticking around. You were scared, worried for him after one of his harebrained plans nearly got his head blown off.

And all Javier had done was make you feel stupid for caring about him. It didn’t help that he did nothing to try to fix it the next day; he was embarrassed, ashamed of his immaturity. And you left because of it. He hated himself for it. He would only hate himself more if he didn’t go to you now that he had taken down Escobar. Better late than never, right? He was back in the states and could’ve gone anywhere, done anything, especially now that he was so well known for his hard work in Colombia. Instead, he used that new status to find out where you ended up and scribbled your address onto a crumpled piece of paper.

It was a nice house. The kind he always hoped you would get, picturesque with the neatly trimmed front yard and picket fence. The sun had just risen enough to tint the sky by the time he pulled up and killed the engine, his millionth cigarette of the day perched between his fingers. You were home. Tiny movements that he could see from the windows and the car parked in your driveway told him that much.

The love of his life was right there. Less than twenty yards away, practically nothing separating the two of you after so long. That realization had Javier finally shoving the car door open and stepping out - and damn near getting himself run over in the process. In his haste, his excitement, he didn’t even glance around himself enough to see the car approaching and… pulling into your driveway?

A spike of fear shot through him. Please, fuck, don’t let that be a man. Don’t let that be some man who is going to walk through the door and kiss your cheek as you welcome him home from work and…

No. A woman, brunette. Launching herself out of the car and practically skipping up to the door. She didn’t bother knocking, just walked right in and closed the door behind her. Something familiar about her tickled the back of Javier’s brain, the hazy memory of a polaroid of her next to you wearing matching goofy grins. Ah, your sister. Amelia, if he remembered correctly.

Javier hesitated at her appearance. He didn’t want to interrupt something. God knows you were already going to be pissed enough at him. So he leaned against his door and puffed on that cigarette like it was his only lifeline, ready to wait for however long it took.

Just his luck that he wouldn’t have to wait long. The door reopened not fifteen minutes later and the two of you both appeared on the porch and holy fuck, Javier’s heart was ready to fly out of his chest just at the sight of your smile as you chatted with your sister. He watched, enraptured, that damn cigarette damn near falling from his lips, his heart leaping at the way your head tilted back with a big laugh. God, he missed that sound.

You turned and poked your head back into the doorway and called something that he couldn’t hear, pausing before rolling your eyes and walking back inside. You appeared again a second later with -

A kid? Propped on your hip with your arm propped under them with ease.

Javier’s heart dropped. Of course. He should’ve known that someone would have scooped you up the second you returned home. If he hadn’t have been such a fucking idiot, that could have been him building a home with you and fuck, he had to leave. He needed to get in his car and fucking go before you -

“Javier?”

It had been so long since he heard you say his name. Even when it was layered with surprise, his name never sounded better than when it was falling from your lips. Javier froze with his hand on the handle. He could hear your sister’s ill attempt at whispering, the harshness of “Wait, the Javier? The one that -” that you cut off before she could finish.

Javier turned, his heart flying in his chest, and started walking up to the gate. The shake in his hands was undeniable when he lifted the latch. Your mouth hung open, chest rising and falling rapidly with your almost frantic breathing, the little girl perched on your hip seeming confused. She was yours, that much was obvious. Her nose, her lips - that little girl was your daughter.

Something in you snapped back into place, your mouth closed and a fake smile quickly replaced it as you turned your softening gaze to your little girl. “Okay, you have fun with Aunt Amelia, okay? Mommy loves you.”

Javier watched the exchange with a heavy heart, watched as your daughter gave you the tiniest kiss on your cheek with a small ‘pop’ of her lips, watched as your sister took her and gave him a wide berth as she went to strap her into the carseat in her car. The moment she was out of your sight, the warmth from your eyes fell away and regarded him with something colder, something angry and sad.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked.

“It’s done.” He mumbled, his fists clenching at his sides. “All of the bullshit with Escobar, it’s over.”

“Yeah, I know.” You scoffed at the surprised look he gave you. “What, you think I didn’t keep track of you after I left? Just because I wasn’t around doesn’t mean I stopped caring about whether you lived or died. That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I never should have let you leave. I… I shouldn’t have driven you away to begin with.” Shame flooded him for the millionth time at the flash of hurt in your eyes before you looked away from him, your eyes falling to the ground. “The kid… uh, congratulations I mean. I didn’t know you started a family, I never would’ve shown up like this. I’m not a homewrecker.”

“The kid?” You repeated, your voice incredulous, and Javier cringed. Yeah, not the most eloquent way to put it, but he was never good with words.

“Yeah, uh, she’s a cute kid. You and your… husband or whatever, you got lucky.” Every word that fell from his lips, he regretted. They were true, sure, but holy hell did it sound so awkward coming from him.

“The kid.” You scoffed again, a sound he hadn’t realized he missed so much. You finally locked eyes with him, somehow even more guarded than before. “She’s yours.”

Javier blinked. The words didn’t compute, his brain falling blank at the very thought that he… no, no fucking way. He took a half step back, his mouth falling open. He watched you watch him, watched the way your eyes studied his every movement. Air rushed in and out of his chest rapidly, black spots blinked at the edges of his vision, and suddenly his ass was hitting the hard stone of your porch.

He barely heard the rough, concerned way you said “Shit, Javi!”, barely noticed you disappear from his side. No, he couldn’t believe it, couldn’t accept that. There was no way in hell that his stupid fucking mistake deprived him of this, of his family. Of watching you bring his child into the world and watching her grow, teaching her how to walk on unsteady feet and picking her up when she cried. Of you teaching him how to gently pull her pretty brown hair into the little sprigs of pigtails, just like she wore when he caught a glance of her before she was whisked away.

The cold, wet feeling of a cloth dragging across his forehead made his eyes refocus and there you were. Your eyes, once cold and hesitant now tinged with concern as you gently drug a washcloth down each of his cheeks, trying to pull him out of his panicked state. You were murmuring something to him, something he couldn’t hear over the blood rushing in his ears. Javier’s hand grasped at yours, pressing it against his cheek tightly.

“Name.” He rasped. “What’s her name?”

You paused, a small smile perking up the corners of your lips. “Elianna. We call her Ellie.”

Ellie.

Javier had a daughter.

“I have a daughter?” Javier needed to hear you say it again.

“You have a daughter.” You nodded and pulled your hand away from his cheek, much to Javier’s disappointment. He missed your touch. You patted him hard on the shoulder before hauling him up. “Come on, we have a lot to talk about. Might as well do it on the couch where it’s comfortable.”

The inside of your home was just as picturesque as the outside, but in a completely different way. Colorful toys were strewn about the living room, a few soft baby blankets crumpled on the couch. It was comfortable, lived-in. Happy. Javier sat heavily on the couch, mind almost on autopilot as he gently touched the blanket next to him, his fingers barely grazing the fabric like he was worried his touch would somehow taint it.

You handed him a cold bottle of water that he accepted graciously and sipped as you sat next to him, a foot-wide war zone of space between you that felt like a stab to his heart. If only he hadn’t fucked everything up. You would be curled up right against him, your head on his chest as the two of you watched the little girl you created together babble over her toys.

“Tell me about her?” Javier asked tentatively, his voice uncharacteristically small.

“What do you want to know?” The hesitance in your voice made him feel even worse.

“Anything. Everything.”

And you did. Javier watched and listened, enraptured as you gushed about little Ellie. At nearly fifteen months old, she was damn near running and constantly getting into everything. She was curious and bright and laughed like she couldn’t breathe when you would roll around on the floor and play with her. Just the sight of the happiness and light in your eyes when you retold the first time you heard her say ‘mama’ made pride swell in his chest.

The intense urge to have her here with him pulled at him, but he knew better than to ask. You were already indulging him by bringing him into your home and answering his questions. Hell, he was lucky you told him to begin with. He could feel the intensity of your gaze on his face as he tried to absorb all of the information that was dumped on him. Silence filled the living room when you trailed off, a few heavy moments where he didn’t know what to say.

“I know you have questions, Javier.” You said, your words slow and deliberate. Clipped, like you were terrified he was going to disappear once again.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Javier whispered.

“Well, I didn’t know I was pregnant when I left.” You began with a sigh. “I thought that the nausea and the missed period were from stress, because god knows I was wrecked. I found out a few weeks after I got back to the U.S and… I just didn’t see the point to tell you.”

“Didn’t see the point? Of telling me you were having my child?” His voice rose with his anger, his frustration and he watched as those walls slammed down, your vulnerability hardening in less than a second. He took a deep breath before continuing, trying his damnedest to soften his voice. “Do you really think so little of me?”

“Are you kidding me, Javier? You had just told me to leave. Was I supposed to think it would change anything?” You deflated into the cushions slightly and the sight of the exhaustion and pain in your eyes made some of his anger fall away. You rubbed a hand down your face. “Was I supposed to hop back on a plane back to Colombia? Put myself and my baby in danger? Or maybe I should have just called you. ‘Hey, Javier, I know you just told me to get out of your life, but surprise! I’m carrying your child!’ How would that have gone over?”

“But after? How could you not…” Javier choked up, unable to finish his sentence. You were right, he knew that. But he was grieving the loss of everything he had missed out on. He couldn’t blame you, not really. It was an impossible situation.

“I wanted to. There were these moments that… it took everything in me not to call you and beg you to come to me like some pathetic little…” You trailed off with a shake of your head, your voice cracking. “But I couldn’t. The closer you got to catching Escobar, I just… I couldn’t pull you away from the fight when you were so close to winning. The past few weeks, though? God, I almost called you at least a dozen times. The second I heard about it, I wanted you here, but I was so… so scared, Javi.”

And there it was. Javier’s heart snapped in half. He broke your heart and you managed to still prioritize his career, his fight against Escobar, while you brought his child into the world and shouldered that responsibility on your own. He cleared his throat harshly and squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to hold back those traitorous tears that threatened to fall.

“You don’t have to be scared. If you’ll have me, I swear to god, you will never do this alone again.” Javier whispered, his eyes still closed. Debilitating fear kept him from looking at you, afraid to see the rejection on your face. “I want to be here, I want this. I want my family.”

“Do you mean that?” Your voice trembled with disbelief.

“Of course I do, hermosa.” He insisted. “Please, give me the chance to show you.”

The small, relieved sigh that came from you made something tight ease in his chest and Javier hesitantly brought you into his arms. You relaxed into his side with your head propped on his shoulder, the both of you taking refuge in the familiarity of the touch that was missed for so long. He felt you look up at him and met your eyes, hoping you could see his sincerity. Words had a tendency to fail him but he still had his actions. He absentmindedly licked his lips before asking, “Can I kiss you?”

You smiled at him, a small smile that was still a bit sad, but a smile nonetheless, and nodded. “I've missed your kisses. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He confessed and finally kissed you. After two years, Javier felt the softness of your lips against his and finally felt like he was home.

----------

Javier’s knee bounced rapidly as he sat on your couch hours later, his nerves bounding untethered and desperate for any outlet. Just on the outside on the porch, you had stepped out to greet Amelia, who had brought Ellie home.

His daughter was on the other side of the door and he was about to meet her, for real this time. Excitement and fear warred with each other, neither able to win out over the other in their rising volume. Excitement at getting to hold her, maybe even make her smile. Fear over the possibility of hurting her or being too rough - he didn’t have much experience with babies, after all.

The door pushed open and he heard you call his name softly. “Can you grab these bags for me?”

He was on his feet in an instant, glad to be of help and already jumping at the chance to start proving himself to be a good father. A mess of brown curls poked out from the baby blanket you had draped over your chest where Ellie was apparently still fast asleep, distracting him slightly as he grabbed the bags from Amelia. She… did not look too happy to see him. The hardness in her glare told him something that didn’t need to be vocalized: if he hurt you or Elllie, his body would never be found.

Javier nodded slightly at her. He couldn’t blame your sister. If he were in her position, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he would be breaking noses. At your request, he set the bags on the kitchen table before walking back to you - and the sight of you swaying in the middle of the living room with Ellie knocked out against you, your cheek propped against the top of her head, took his breath away. The smile you gave him brought him closer, his hand settling on Ellie’s back softly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Do you want to hold her?”

It took a moment of maneuvering, but the second you settled Ellie against him chest-to-chest, his entire world came into focus. Her cheek pressed against his chest just so, making her mouth form the tiniest little ‘o’ that he had ever seen. She was so calm, sleeping so deeply, and Javier couldn’t fucking believe his luck. How could he have had any part in creating something so perfect?

He had to sit down. He didn’t trust himself to hold her with unskilled hands while standing. She harrumphed slightly when he eased down onto the couch, but other than that, his little girl stayed off in her dreamworld, content and safe in her father’s arms for the first time.

“Just be careful not to touch the bottoms of her feet even a little bit, it wakes her up every time. She’s just like you with that.” You said, your voice lowered as you sat next to him much closer than before. He preened under the idea that any part of him was reflected in Ellie, even something so small and silly.

“She’s so warm. Is that normal?” Javi asked. He hoped she didn’t have a fever, he knew that a fever could really hurt a baby even with his limited knowledge. You reached out to gently feel her forehead and cheek, smiling after a moment.

“No, she's just a little furnace.” You settled against the back of the couch with a content smile. God, this just felt so right. Having you so close and smiling, having his daughter asleep and safe against him. He could feel the pieces snapping together, could feel himself becoming whole. “Yet another thing she has in common with you.”

“What else?” Javier whispered, desperate to hear everything.

“Hmm, let’s see. You have the same grumpy face.” You laugh when he glanced up at you, his eyebrows ticked together and lips pursed slightly. “Mhmm, that’s the one. Plus she hates carrots. Acts like I’ve personally offended her if I even offer them.”

“That’s because carrots are fucking disgusting.” Javi grumbles goodnaturedly as he gently rubs Ellie’s back. She’s so small, such a tiny, delicate little creature, and he can’t believe it. Any of it. You let him in after everything, took him in and introduced him to an entirely new world of possibility, one where if he was smart and did right by his two little ladies, he would get the life he always dreamed of.

Your fingers brushed an errant lock of hair from his face and Javi sighed, his eyes falling closed as he leaned into the soft touch that he missed so much. He hummed happily, practically purring like a pleased cat, when your fingers buried further in his hair and massaged over his scalp. Heaven. He was in heaven.

A gentle stirring against his chest made Javier glance down at Ellie and that first glimpse of her big brown eyes only confirmed what he already felt deep in his soul - this little girl was his everything. It was the most basic, simple thing he had ever felt, no question to be had about any of it.

Ellie wiggled against him, trying to get herself upright, and Javier immediately held her under her arms to sit her on his thigh. She looked inquisitively up at him from his lap, glancing over at you to confirm that you were nearby before staring at him as if he was the most interesting thing he has ever seen. Her little hand reached up to tug at his mustache, giving him a toothy grin at the way he laughed.

There were tears in his eyes and he couldn’t even deny them, couldn’t pretend they weren’t there. Javier could see them mirrored in your eyes as you watched Ellie stand in her father’s lap and try to balance herself with her hands on his shoulders.

You cleared your throat. “She’s about to start bouncing.”

“What? Whoa!” Javier exclaimed at the sudden feeling of what seemed like Ellie falling in his lap, his hands rushing for a firmer grip only for her to pop right back up and do it all over again. All three of you cracked up, your melodic laughter mixing with Ellie’s high giggling in the most beautiful way.

That night Javier got to cut up his daughter's food and help spoon bites into her mouth, sat at the table with Ellie and the love of his life, eating dinner like a family. He could picture this for the rest of his life. Eating breakfast and dinner together. Kissing the both of you goodbye in the morning and returning to his daughter running down the hall to wrap him in a hug. Chasing Ellie around a park and helping her down slides and pushing her on the swings.

This was his second chance, and he was going to do it right. God help him, he was not going to miss out on anything else. So when he saw the hesitance in your eyes that night after putting Ellie to bed, Javier settled himself on the couch with nothing but a gentle kiss to your forehead. There was no reason to push you. He wanted you to be comfortable, he owed you that much.

A week went by like that. Javier would rise in the morning to the sounds of you coming downstairs with Ellie on your hip and stretch, realigning his spine and pulling the tension from his sore back. He offered small pieces of affection and grinned every time they were accepted - a small peck on the lips here, his arm raised for you to curl closer on the couch there. Little Elianna was all too happy to join in on those little couch cuddle sessions, too, clambering into his lap or yours and snuggling close.

It seemed like the more Ellie warmed up to him, the more you did as well. Javi caught those small smiles when you watched him help ease his little girl to sleep for a nap. The more he proved himself to be a good father, the more comfortable you were letting him in, and it felt like progress. You laughed openly at his stupid jokes, reached out for him for affection of your own volition - kisses over coffee, holding hands as he pushed Ellie in the stroller - and it felt so good.

Javier fluffed up a pillow before tossing it against the arm of the couch, but before he could collapse his exhausted body into the cushions, he felt your hand curl around his bicep. The look in your eyes was almost afraid and worry clenched his stomach, but before he could spiral, you pulled him close and leaned up to kiss him.

A surprised sound hummed against your lips but Javi quickly regained himself to kiss you back. There was something softer about the way your lips pressed against his, something that had been absent from the quick, nearly chaste kisses you shared since he returned. This time you parted your lips and licked along the curve of his bottom lip, your hand coming up to press against his jaw and pull him even closer.

“You aren’t sleeping on that couch anymore.” You whispered against his lips.

“Oh, thank fuck.” Javi grumbled as he pressed even closer and kissed you again and again, slowly guiding you back to your bedroom.

He woke up the next morning with his bare chest against your back, his face buried in your hair, and he didn’t think life could get any better. His arms tightened around you as he gently rubbed up and down your side, the soft touch easing you out of sleep. The way you groaned made him smile; it was a sound he missed, even if it though was grumpy. You rolled over in his embrace and wrapped your arms around his neck to drag him over you, smiling sleepily at him before kissing him.

“My thighs are fucking aching, Javier.” You grumbled against him as you pressed a line of kisses along his jaw and down his neck.

He shivered at the feeling of your lips against his sensitive skin. “Mm, yeah, and you love it.”

You giggled in that way that made his stomach flip. “Fair enough.”

The door pushed open suddenly, almost hard enough to crack against the wall, and Ellie appeared on your side of the bed, her arms raised as she waited impatiently to be picked up. Javier happily pulled her up onto the bed. Scratch his earlier assumption - now his life couldn’t get any better. He watched Ellie jump and tumble around the sheets with happy squeals and that’s when he heard it. At first, he thought maybe he was hearing things until he saw the way your mouth fell open into a big grin, your eyes flitting back and forth between father and daughter.

“Papaaaa!” Ellie called out, her hands opening and closing rapidly, reaching for him from the other side of the bed. She kept saying it, repeating the two syllables over and over until it all bled into one long call for her dad.

Javier pulled her into his arms and squished her to his chest tightly, his eyes on you as his heart fluttered high in his chest. He couldn’t find the words, his voice choked out by his overwhelming love for the little family he had. He watched as you shuffled forward to kneel next to him and kiss the top of Ellie’s head, then his lips, pride shimmering in your eyes.

“Marry me.” Javier said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your jaw dropped. “Javi… you don’t have to do this. I - I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“Are you kidding me? I want to grow old with you, have kids with you, even have a fucking white picket fence.” It was as if the faucet was turned on and there was no stopping the words he so desperately wanted to say. “None of this is out of obligation, hermosa. I want you to be my wife.”

“Yes.” There were tears in your eyes as you listened to the words you had longed to hear for far too long. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Javier surged forward and kissed you again, and in that bed with the precious little girl the two of you created together and the promise of being yours forever, he knew he was right where he belonged.

{Taglist}

@iamburdened @everyhowlmarksthedead @jenrebloggingfics @xserenax-13 @silverstarsandsuns @luminescentlily @peterpstuff @leonieb @lazybeeches @withasideofmeg @freeshavocadoooo @chattychell @ew-erin @viktorialukowski @cjbtw @agentshortstacc @a-skov @himbotroy

#javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x y/n #javier pena fanfiction #narcos #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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sangorous · 2 years

Text

AN INTERESTING THANKSGIVING

word count: 0.8k

genre/warning: idk?/homewrecking-ish?pettiness

miyuki kazuya x black fem!haitian!reader

show: ace of diamond

"Look at my baby," her mother smiled as Riku walked up to his grandma with a smile.

"Hi grandma," he giggled as she picked him up.

"How are you doing honey?" she placed small kisses on his cheek.

"Grandma," he whined with a laugh.

"Hi ma," she kissed her cheek and gave her a hug.

"Hi ma," Miyuki greeted her with a hug and peck on the cheek.

"Hello my darlings, I'm happy y'all made it," she smiled as [your name] placed the haitian macaroni on the table.

"I'm glad we made it here and safely as well, I was scared we were going to die on our way here the way [your name] was driving," Miyuki sighed as her mother began to laugh.

"Not only are you an amazing catcher, but you're a comedian as well I see," [your name] sarcastically replied as he snickered.

"Someone sounds upset,"

"No, not at all," she gave him a fake smile as he continued to snicker.

When [your name] and Miyuki walked back to the dining room after washing their hands, they noticed that there was an empty seat with a purse on it next to her younger brother. She looked at the familiar purse and tried to figure out who it belonged to, and it hit her.

"Oh hell no," she muttered to herself as she watched her older sister take a seat in the chair.

"Ma, I thought you said she wasn't gonna make it tonight," she looked at her with a glare.

"I thought so too until she came knocking on my door this morning," her mother chuckled, taking her seat at the table.

"It's nice to see you too, little sister," her sister sarcastically replied, giving her a fake smile.

[your name] decided to ignore her as she grabbed Miyuki's hand and walked over to their spots at the table.

Rose-Marie also is known as [your name]'s older sister, she was someone she did not like at all. Despite them being family, [your name] did not care for her nor consider her to be her sister after what she tried to do two years ago. Two years ago when Rose-Marie didn't have anywhere to go after her breakup with her boyfriend, [your name] decided to be a good sister and let her crash at her place until she could land back on her feet. Unaware of her true intentions, [your name] thought she was doing something good. Slowly, she began to catch on to her sister. Her little flirtatious acts whenever Miyuki was around, asking him for help for things she clearly knew what to do, and unnecessarily touching him.

[your name] couldn't lie, every day she would try her best not to lose her cool. Miyuki would sometimes make fun of the situation stating that 'he's handsome, what would you think would happen?' and yes she would smack him in the back of his head because there was nothing funny about her sister trying to get with her husband.

But one day, she crossed the boundary when she purposely tried to seduce Miyuki who was trying his best to push her away from him. [your name] couldn't hold it in anymore, she got up from her chair and dragged her older sister by her hair while Miyuki quickly got up and followed her. He tried his best to pull her hand away, but her grip was too tight. [your name] kicked Rose-Marie out of her house and told her that she never wanted to see her again.

"I see some things never change," her brother hummed, grabbing his plate.

"This should be interesting," Miyuki whispered to him.

During the thanksgiving dinner, she noticed that her sister kept eyeing Miyuki and he felt a bit uncomfortable.

"I think some of us should keep our eyes on our plates, don't y'all think so?" she hummed, cutting the piece of turkey on her plate to hand over to her son.

"Why can't we observe what's on each other's plates? sometimes someone's plate has something packed in it," her sister retorted with a small smirk, eating the macaroni.

"I just find it funny how mama always has the same rat runnin' around her house every thanksgiving," she had a fake smile on her face.

"Funny how roaches love to pick on rats," her sister hummed, shaking her head.

"Funny how some people can't find their own man, so they choose to seduce a married man instead," she stabbed her fork into the turkey.

"Oops was that too obvious?" she looked at her with an innocent look as the table became quiet.

"Talk about a home run am I right?" Miyuki joked as [your name] glared at him.

"Relax, alright?" he whispered in her ear, placing his hand on her thigh and giving it a squeeze.

"What an interesting thanksgiving dinner," her younger brother cleared his throat while her mother smacked the back of his head.

#ace of diamond x black!reader #poc reader #black reader #diamond no ace x black!reader #ace of diamond x black reader #diamond no ace x black reader #ace of diamond #diamond no ace #miyuki kazuya x black!reader #miyuki kazuya x black reader #miyuki kazuya

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jimlingss · 4 years

Text

Game of Temptation

➜ Words: 16k

➜ Genres: 60% Smut, 35% Angst, 5% Fluff, Succubus!AU

➜ Summary: As a succubus, your beauty is unrivaled and shaped to tempt mortals. But it's still hard to resist Taehyung, and there's little you can do once you've been coerced to do his bidding for him. This time, you find yourself entering the affluent Kim Household as a housemaid. And these poor humans don't know your intentions are far from being angelic.

➜ Warning: seduction, sex, homewrecking, infidelity, daddy kink, creampie, etc. There were no morals in the making of this fic. I do not subscribe to my characters’ beliefs, y'all. It's just some crazy fiction. Reader discretion advised.

It’s your chance to have a little fun, peach. The four wheels of the luggage roll against the smooth pavement, over the cracks and up the massive driveway. The sweltering sun isn’t a bother when the feeling of flames licking against your cheeks is such a familiarity. Yet, you still feel disgruntled as Taehyung’s words ring inside your head. I know you want to try your hand at it. And you’ve been telling me how much you want a little subordinate of your own. You could do whatever you want with them. There are no rules. He’s a bastard. If it wasn’t for you being so wrapped around his finger and dancing in the palm of his hand, you would never do something this ridiculous. But it’s not like you have much of a choice. Taehyung’s words of persuasion act like you do have a choice when in reality, he mocks. Yet, in spite of what you might really think, you continue on your way, lugging your heavy baggage up the stairs and steadying your breath. Feeling a sense of calmness, the pad of your index finger presses the doorbell. You listen to how the sound echoes inside the enormous manor. There’s shouting, footsteps, and a second later, the door swings open. There’s a plump woman with an apron tied over her body, her gray streaked hair pulled back into a bun. She’s out of breath as she is fatigued even though it’s only eight in the morning. But she still greets you with a smile that spreads into her chubby cheeks. “Hello! You must be the new live-in nanny and housemaid! Come in, come in. Don’t just stand out here! It’s so cold!” She helps drag in your luggage. The large foyer opens up to a grand staircase, two archways on both sides that allow you to peek into the chandeliered and golden curtain rooms. There’s antique china in a display case and vases on tables — more to paint a picture of wealth than for any actual purpose. But while one would expect a quiet and proper home, there’s chaos instead. Feet rumbling from upstairs. Sharp laughter and exhausted sighs. Noises of shouting and screaming. “You’re younger than I expected. What’s your name?” “Y/N, madam.” “Oh, I’m not the madam,” the woman giggles at the thought and bats the air with her hand. “The madam isn’t as old as I am. I’m the Kim’s housekeeper, Ms. Yoo. We’ll be working close together. Have you eaten yet? The trip must’ve been long and tiring. Would you like to rest?” The corner of your lips quirk. “I’m alright, thank you.” “I’ll give you a tour around then. The faster you can become accustomed to this home, the faster you can help out.” You nod, but before she can get in another word, there’s thundering stomps down the stairs. A boy’s face pokes through the banisters and he gives a toothless grin. Not more than five years old, he wears a blue, collared shirt and khaki shorts, one foot with a sock and the other without — he’s no doubt a spoiled, little brat. The kid makes a ruckus while running down the rest of the steps, jumping from the last three and he comes up to you, eyes wide and sparkling as he looks up. “Who’re you?” You lower yourself and offer a soft smile. “I’m going to be your daddy and mommy’s new little helper. We’re going to have lots of fun from now on.” “Jaesun! Jaesun, get back here! What did I say about slamming your bedroom door?!” A frail woman with grating vocal cords comes down the stairs as well. Her chest is rising and falling, evidently winded from her son but her eyes visibly light up when she sees you. “You must be Y/N, aren’t you?” She’s a pretty woman with few wrinkles even in her forties, dressed cleanly in a rosy blouse and white skirt. But her dark circles ruin the pristine image. “Yes, I am, madam.” She shakes your hand vigorously. She looks at you like you’re her guardian angel. An irony that tickles your senses. “Oh, I’m so happy you’re finally here. I’m Kim Yijin, my husband is Kim Namjoon, but we should head to the kitchen to talk. There’s not much time left.” The housekeeper smiles. “Yes, I was about to show her the way.” “Let’s go, Jaesun.” You offer your hand to the boy and he happily takes it, something that Yijin doesn’t miss and even grins at. The kitchen is twice the size of the foyer, two stove sets and two refrigerators side by side. The counter space is enough to stretch your entire body across and you can only marvel at the surroundings. “I hope you don’t get too overwhelmed,” Yijin says as she turns to get her coffee started and Ms. Yoo sets out breakfast for Jaesun at the table. “But I should tell you now before I forget to. My family eats a gluten-free diet. Our Jaesun is lactose and tolerant, so he’s only to have soy milk and calcium-fortified orange juice. My daughter has poor digestion, so try to avoid whole-grains when you’re preparing the meals.” She stops for a second, lamenting, “and she has such bad skin these days, so avoid milk and anything bad, like instant noodles, even if she begs for it. The girl doesn’t know what’s good and bad for her.” With her steaming coffee cup in hand, Yijin waltzes around the kitchen, forcing you to follow her whims. “Make sure the kids have at least three servings of fruits and vegetables. My husband doesn’t like eggs and Jaesun isn’t supposed to have candy. Also, this is less important, but I really like fried foods that aren’t too oily, so if you have anything you can make…” The corners of your lips lift. “I have a fried chicken recipe.” “I like you already.” She snaps her fingers, smile brightening. She looks over to the older lady, calling out to her, “Ms. Yoo, I can get breakfast ready for today. Would you like to continue showing Y/N around?” “Yes, I will.” Even when you could tell from the outside, the house is grand. It’s a closed concept, full of mahogany wood panels, twisting halls, oak doors and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. It looks like a place Taehyung would enjoy. “Every day, we meal prep breakfast, lunch and dinner. Typically only the master of the house is here for lunch, so we have to watch our portions. He works a lot from home. Oh, his younger brother is also living here for some time. He’s an editor, so he’s quite busy. I tend to deliver his meal to his room if he doesn’t come down for dinner.” You nod, entering the living room. There’s a giant family photo above the mantel that looks all too artificial — stiff smiles and pressed clothes with a white background. But the space is warmed with cedar bookshelves, a coffee table to match and perfectly positions cushion chairs. In one of them is a sleepy man with dark hair, sipping on a mug as he reads the newspaper. He looks up at you, features more tender than expected. “Hello.” You dip your head to the so-called younger brother, keeping your voice soft-spoken. “Mr. Kim, this is our new helper,” the housekeeper introduces. “Yes.” His voice is also surprisingly husky. “I’m Yoongi. It’s nice to meet you.” The two of you stare at one another until you dip your head as Mrs. Yoo keeps going and you leave the room, walking upstairs. “We dust every day and clean the kitchen each night. Every other day, we do laundry and vacuum the rooms. The living space and foyer get especially dirty, so we have to stay vigilant. If your back ever aches from hunching over so much, tell me and I’ll give you some cream and heated pads.” A door down the hall shuts and there’s an audible sigh. What follows are footsteps and a teenage girl in an ironed school uniform, backpack on her back. Her black hair is sleek, ending at her waist and in spite of puffy cheeks, her eyes are cat-like. “Good morning, Sohee. Sleep well?” “I guess.” As her pupils dart from the housekeeper to you, her steps slow and she halts altogether. You lock your gaze with her and smile. “Hello. I’m the new housemaid, Y/N.” You extend your arm, but she dwells — staring like a deer in headlights. It takes a moment for Sohee to come to her senses and she shakes your hand while brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She timidly murmurs, “O-oh. Nice to meet you.” “Sohee!” There’s a sudden screech of her name from downstairs, grating to the ears. Immediately, the young girl deflates. “Coming!” she shouts back to her mom with a groan, rolling her eyes before running down the stairs. The housekeeper smiles sympathetically. “Sohee’s going through a bit of a growth spurt, so she’s been a bit sensitive lately.” You nod and she continues, “We clean the bathrooms once a week and once a month, we wash the carpets. Your room is just this way.” Down the corridor is a small mahogany door. But there’s grandiose double doors with golden handles right where the hall begins from the open area. And your strides reduce. You linger from curiosity and peer through the crack with an eye. Vaguely, you’re able to make out bookshelves and an imposing desk. More importantly, there’s someone seated in the leather seat behind it. Mrs. Yoo notices. “Oh, that’s master Kim’s office, but there’s no need to bother him right now.” Your body moves a little too late. While you’re still peeping through, the man behind the desk raises his head. Your eyes meet, but you leave before either of you can get a good look at each other. The room you’re given is a meager space — more like a closet compared to the rest of the house. You hold in your scoff, looking around at the single bed. The empty desk. The tiny window with dead bugs on the sill. The wooden chair with splinters sticking out of it. It looks like antiques shoved in a shed. Not even Taehyung treats you this poorly. “The bathroom is across from your room, so it’s rather convenient!” You set your luggage down. “Also, you’ll be watching Jaesun when he comes home from kindergarten. You’ll wash him and put him to bed as well. I’ll help you out until you get the hang of things, so don’t worry too much.” You wonder if the old lady ever shuts up, but you keep your voice soft-spoken and your demeanour timid. “Thank you.” “It’s not an issue.” Ms. Yoo pats your shoulder. “Oh, you can get settled a little later on. We should help the madam with breakfast. She doesn’t cook very well.” It’s possible to get lost in this abyss of a house. There are endless halls and pompous rooms. You don’t understand the purpose of having a large music room next to a drawing room, but you suppose with this much money, it’s fun to throw it into a blazing fire. The housekeeper continues yapping away as you make it back downstairs. But on your way, you catch a different individual standing in the foyer. Someone in a black suit with doe eyes, boyish features that draw you in. He seems surprised to see you too. “Ah, Jungkook! Have you eaten yet? Would you like a coffee?” “I’m fine, Ms. Yoo.” He has a cute smile full of teeth and his eyes flicker to you. “This is...?” “Oh, it’s the new helper I was telling you about. Y/N, this is Jungkook, Mr. Kim’s personal chauffeur. He’s been working with this family for almost as long as I’ve been here.” “Not that long,” Jungkook retorts mischievously. “I only started here a few years ago after I finished school.” “Only? Oh my. Feels like you started here thirty years ago like I did! Time goes by so fast!” “Only when you’re having fun.” Jungkook grins and then redirects his attention towards you, clearing his throat. “I-It’s nice to meet you.” “Likewise.” You shake his hand and dip your head with a tiny smile. He averts his vision too, becoming shy. Yet, when you lift your head, your eyes meet each other’s. You can feel the way his hand is getting sweaty, but you let it linger for a longer amount of time than necessary. Until you’re the one to let go. He’s too cute. You catch the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. The tension between the pair of you is only broken when a voice coughs from the top of the staircase and Jungkook breaks apart from you, taking a step back. You look up at the master, Kim Namjoon. A man in his forties, tall with a commanding aura. His hair is styled neatly, thick glasses sitting on his face, sharply dressed in a tailored suit. Everything about him screams of new money. “Good morning, Mr. Kim.” He hums at the housekeeper. “Good morning, Ms. Yoo. This must be the new helper. It’s nice to meet you.” The man comes down and visibly inspects you, as if trying to figure you out and only looks away when he’s satisfied. “I hope you’ll do a good job.” “Yes, sir.” “Are you going already, daddy?” Sohee comes from the kitchen, crestfallen. The volume of her voice is quiet and tapers off, “You’re not going to have breakfast with us...?” “I don’t have time today.” The words tumble out and he looks at his phone. Ms. Yoo opens the door as he answers a call outside. You look over at Sohee who’s become dejected. Her shoulders have slumped and her hair falls in front of her face. She pouts and tries to hide it. But Jungkook smiles softly and ruffles her hair. “Don’t be so sad. I’ll have breakfast with you tomorrow, okay?” “Really?” Sohee looks up at him, eyes gradually brightening and her cheeks becoming rosy. He nods. “I’ll make sure to come early.” “I’ll have to cook more eggs then,” the housekeeper chortles and Jungkook grins until his eyes travel to you. The glance turns into a gaze and neither of you speak until Ms. Yoo turns. “Come on, Y/N! We can’t dawdle all day now.” “Yes,” you murmur and follow after her, all too aware of Jungkook’s stare on your backside as Sohee still talks without him really listening. Once you turn the corner, the older woman pauses and your brow cocks. “Is….there something the matter?” She smiles endearingly at you and shakes her head. “No, nothing’s wrong. You’re just very beautiful, that’s all.”

The house is chaotic. Before going to bed, Ms. Yoo gave you one piece of furniture to add to the sad collection — an alarm clock. And it blares with red digits reading that it’s five in the morning. Lugging yourself up, you’re bombarded with chores. From laundry to wiping down windows and making the bed. “Excuse me.” You knock against the door and there’s a muffled ‘come in’. Yoongi sits at his desk with a stack of papers in front of him and a red pen in his hand. His room is similar to yours, cramped and modest, but with a larger window and mattress, and a proper wardrobe and closet. The man in his pajamas doesn’t look at you. “You can leave it there,” he mumbles and you set his tray of breakfast food on his nightstand. Your eyes linger on his slouching form. But he never turns around, so you leave. The noise and bickering from the kitchen can already be heard from the stair landing. The stove top fan is blasted while Ms. Yoo fries eggs, Jaesun sitting at the table with his legs swinging and spitting his cereal all over the place as he plays make-belief with his robot, but most of all— “Why won’t you let me go?” Sohee is standing by her mother, exasperation and the furrow of her brows ruining her otherwise innocent exterior. “It’s only Yeeun’s house! And you already know her mom!” “I already said that she isn’t a good influence on you!” “We’re only studying! I don’t get why you don’t like her!” “Her family is lower than ours.” Yijin forces herself to become calmer and feeds Jaesun a spoonful of yogurt as he plays. She glances at her daughter after a moment. “If you know what’s good for you, you’d become friends with Lee Sunmi. At least they have something to offer us. And are you going to eat that bagel? It’s filled with cream cheese. We have to watch your weight, remember?” “Why are you always picking on me?” The girl drops her choice of breakfast and cries, “What about Jaesun?!” “Are you going to compare yourself to your brother?” She gives her an astonished look full of disbelief, tinged with disappointment. “He’s only five.” Sohee is frustrated to no end. “I hate you all!” She screams and stomps away as you resume slicing the strawberries, eyes lifting every so often. You watch as Jungkook enters the kitchen at the same time Sohee’s leaving. She pauses for a second but then pushes past him. Her mother screams after her. “Sohee! Are you not going to eat at all?! That girl! So rude.” In the meanwhile, Ms. Yoo reads the expression on your face and smiles. “Don’t worry. They never argue for too long.” “Shouldn’t we at least say something?” She shakes her head. “I’ve tried to get involved a few times, but it never helped much. Better to keep quiet. Every family argues.” The housekeeper finishes up in the kitchen while Yijin settles down and sips on her coffee as she scrolls through her phone. She asks for a plate of fruits from Ms. Yoo and at the same time, you notice Jaesun scooping his cereal and purposely spilling it on the ground. No one notices. It sloshes into a pile. You hold in your cusses and grab a rag. The five year old realizes he’s been caught in the act and grins like a little shit. You get on the floor, scrubbing the mess. But the moment the floorboards are back to brown again, there’s another splatter of milk by your hand and a spoonful of cereal flakes that follow. It splashes on your hair and apron and you raise your head to find the little shit plastered with a ginormous smile. “Done eatin’!” He announces, scooting back his chair before running off in giggles. May Satan have mercy on the child before you tear his limbs apart. The minute you’re finished scrubbing the floor and clearing the table, you go off to find the brat. Because god forbid there’s a scratch on him. You find him in the hallway between the laundry room and garage. “What do you think you’re doing?!” There’s a bright red crayon in his tight fist. And he’s scribbling all across the wall while laughing at a piercing volume. At the sight of you, Jaesun draws a line as hard as he can until his knuckles are white, bits of wax are sprinkling and the crayon is a half the size it used to be. The kid runs away before you can snatch him. Much to your dismay, Ms. Yoo merely smiles in endearment when you tell her. “Kids like to have so much fun, don’t they? I remember when my son was at that age, he was such a troublemaker too. But it’s nothing a little baking soda can’t fix!” You end up on your knees, scrubbing the wall with a damp rag dipped in the white powder. You’re humiliating and exhausted. Taehyung was wrong — there’s nothing fun about this whatsoever. You swear to God you’re going to murder someone. “How are you doing?” You look up, discovering doe eyes and pink lips quirked at you. Jungkook is dressed in his suit that’s a bit too big for him, hands dug into the pants pockets as he glances at the wall. You smile at him, brushing away the strand of your hair that came loose from your bun. It’s not too bad of a time to be sweating. To allow the beads to roll down the nape of your neck. “It’s tiresome, but nothing I can’t do.” “I’m assuming this is Jaesun’s little artwork project.” “Who else could it be?” Jungkook grins boyishly. “Once he decided to paint the inside the car using the leather seats as his canvas.” “Why don’t they ever discipline him?” you ask genuinely, tilting your head up at him and he matches the playful glint in your eyes before shrugging. “Probably because he’s the youngest and the only son, so it’s natural they spoil him.” “But this is a bit much, isn’t it?” You shake your head, voice pitching upwards into a whine. The irritation was leaking through the facade you’ve created, but all it does is make Jungkook’s grin widen. “It is. You know—” “Y/N!” There’s a call of your name in a screeching voice. “Can you come here for a second?” “Yes!” For the most part, the crayon is taken off and you breathe a sigh of relief. You look over to Jungkook as a tiny smile appears on your features. “See you.” “Y-Yeah.” His eyes linger on you as you leave. “I’m about to be late for work, so can you please bring this up to my husband?” Yijin hands you a wooden tray with a tall glass of some sort of sludgy green liquid filled to the rim. The drink stinks of kale and lettuce. You wonder if she’s trying to poison him. “He hasn’t gotten anything to eat yet and I’m worried. That man never takes care of himself properly. Oh, and I’d really appreciate it if you could Jaesun dressed. Don’t know where he’s run off to.” You nod and balance the drink up the stairs before coming to the familiar grandiose doors. You knock timidly. There’s a disgruntled noise of acknowledgment, one that signifies he’s inside but preoccupied. Still, you push the parted doors open and come forward with the tray. Namjoon never looks up at you, busy studying the files of documents. The room is warmer than expected, oaks and mahogany, paintings and bookshelves, a large desk that reminds you of a judge’s bench — imposing, commanding. Not unlike him. There’s a fireplace, two leather sofas facing each other and a coffee table in between, and above the mantle is another family portrait that exudes a kind of stiff perfection. You place the glass down on his disorganized desk, eyes peering up at the man. As you retract your arm, your skin brushes against a stack of papers and they’re knocked to the ground. He whips his head over, brow cocked. “I’m so sorry, sir,” you whimper. As you frantically pick them up, you bend over in front of him. “It’s fine.” You feel his eyes linger on your rounded behind before he looks at his document again. You mask a smirk. Namjoon mutters from the corner of his mouth, “Where are you from?” You purposely pause so he directs his attention to you again. “I grew up in the countryside not far from here, sir.” You hold the tray to your stomach, presenting a timid disposition as if his gaze weighs heavily on you. “And what did you do before you took this job?” “I was in university, sir, but I’m taking a break to save some money.” The man gives a pleasant nod. “What was your major?” “Education, sir.” You divert your vision elsewhere, but a sweet smile pulls on your lips. “I would love to become a teacher someday.” He hums in approval, “I could see you doing that.” “Daddy?” The conversation is interrupted by Sohee at the door. She’s dressed in her school uniform, but is nowhere near ready to step into a classroom with the way she’s teary-eyed and her voice croaks with a lump in her throat. “Mom’s not letting me study with Yeeun!” Namjoon exhales exhaustingly. He sits back in his leather chair, looking at the ceiling. Sohee’s eyes stings at how she’s evidently annoying her father. But you don’t dwell, bowing your head and dismissing yourself. // You would’ve never picked up this job unless you had to. Not even for the useless money. You detest education. Never did well, never had fun, never got along with anyone. Be a teacher? You could scoff ten times over. You hate children. You hate kids. They’re absolute brats. Noisy at their best and tormentors at their worst. There’s only a few perks to this job. Like right now. “I’m glad to be of service,” Jungkook breathlessly laughs. His hot breath ghosts along your cheek while your legs wrap and lock around his waist. A comfortable darkness surrounds you. The moonlight cascades through the small window, enough that you can see his handsome profile. And the slick, obscene sounds are covered by the dryer machine still rumbling underneath you. It has the last load of towels the housekeeper wanted to get done tonight — and it’s also helping Jungkook release his load into you. The vibrations of the dryer flow through your body, adding to his raw strokes and the moans choking out of you. It didn’t take much to convince him to sneak away. The one-dimensional family is completely oblivious too, sleeping upstairs in their warm beds. You’re tempted to whine Jungkook’s name louder and make one of them investigate. You wonder what the look on their face would be if they found their little maid and chauffeur fucking in the laundry room. Jungkook tugs down your dress further and gently noses your hardened nipple before his mouth travels upwards to the juncture of your neck. You feel his lips suck into your soft skin, but the fingers sunk into his dark hair tightens and you pull his head back. He gives a throaty groan, half-lidded eyes pinned on your face. You writhe against his hard chest every time his thick cock drags out of your walls. He’s bigger than you expected. Eager too. Jungkook is a healthy and young one, hips and strokes fluid albeit a bit fast and excited. You can tell he likes you a lot. “I-I would’ve never guessed you hated kids.” The boy watches how his cock enters you and disappears. Your pussy clenches around him and he sweats at his hairline, trying to hold back from cumming so soon. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you sing-song cutely and roughly pull him in by his shoulders, batting your lashes. “Can you kiss me, please, Jungkookie?” He nods enthusiastically and leans in to nose your cheek. Then, he tilts his head and your mouth meets his. Your lips immediately part to welcome him deeper and his hands force your thighs farther apart, fingers digging into your flesh. Jungkook’s tongue licks into your hot mouth, making you moan. Yet, the kiss is somehow sweet. Much too pure for someone like you. The two of you break apart, lips wet with his spit. “I-I’m close.” Jungkook’s strokes start to lose their rhythm. They become frantic. Frenzied. He can feel the shaking of the dryer jumping beneath you, how tight and wet you are around him. You watch him through hooded eyes, tempted to coo at him and tell him that he can do it — encourage him that he can release his load right into your womb. But not wanting to ruin his fun moment, you instead squeeze as tight as you can. Jungkook groans, hips jerking and he plunges deep inside your cunt to cum. He gives two more thrusts. His entire body trembles and he realizes you’re still unfinished. Even with half a mind, he has the courtesy to lick his thumb and rub at your clit. You writhe with moans of his name, holding him close and a few seconds later, you get to where you want to be. As you come down from your high, you pet him. “Good boy. Thanks for that.” “Y-You’re so pretty.” “Am I?” you hum and he nods madly. Jungkook’s sticky breath heaves, chest rising and falling and you wrap your arms possessively around his shoulders. Whining incoherently, he understands that you’re pleading for another kiss. He happily obliges and you angle your head to deepen it. The kiss is lazier. Languid. Giving you a chance to taste him properly. Jungkook starts to groan when you don’t pull away after thirty seconds. He tries to part, losing oxygen. But you keep him in your tight grip. And you inhale. It’s delicious. It fills you with a sense of euphoria, making goosebumps raise all over the back of your arms. It’s been a while since you’ve had a soul for yourself. And as it leaves his body, you feel him go limp around you. Jungkook falls to the tiled floor, leaving a sopping mess at your center. “Would you look at that?” A deep timbre sounds. He appears, manifesting himself across from you with the corpse in between. The corner of his thin lip is curled as if he’s impressed. His blonde hair looks white in the milky moonlight and the darkness causes his piercing brown eyes to glow. “Not too bad, peach.” “It’s so easy, it’s not even fun.” You hop down from the dryer machine. Taehyung’s devilish smirk grows. “That’s because you’re so naturally enticing.” You roll your eyes. He comes close, large hands lifting to cradle your cheeks. Taehyung kisses you without much warning — not that you need it — and he licks into your mouth, inhaling deep. He retrieves the soul you took, taking it right from your parted lips. The two of you part and the thin strand of saliva breaks. Taehyung boops your nose. “I always knew my succubus was a talented one.” You scoff. “Don’t act like you came here to praise me. You just wanted to collect the soul.” “Can’t I come here for both?” He lolls his head, another smirk gracing his perfect visage that’s been sculpted by porcelain angel tears. “But it looks like you don’t need my help, so I’ll be on my way.” Taehyung winks and takes the discarded body on the ground, disappearing with it. He vanishes as quickly as he came. After he’s gone, you dip your hand between your messy legs. It’s the last remnants of Jungkook and it’s salty on your palette when you lick your fingers. // The mattress is soft against your knees. It cushions and molds against you each time you push down. But still, your wrists strain against the hardened muscles and knots. Yijin hums, a pleased smile on her face. “A little harder please. And oh, up there. Yes, yes. That’s the spot.” You continue to massage her, making sure to knead your thumbs into the sweet spots. The madam of the house moans in satisfaction. If she wasn’t so annoying and if her soul wasn’t so bland to you — you would’ve taken it long ago. But well, she might be fun to have around a little longer when you start messing with her family more. “You’re good,” she hums. “Where did you learn?” “Here and there. My grandma had a lot of sore muscles, so naturally, I kind of picked it up.” In reality, Taehyung makes you rub his shoulders all the time. She looks like she’s enjoying herself, head placed to the side, eyes closed and the corners of her mouth raises. She’s melting under your touch. But even when she’s this relaxed, she still manages to yap. “It’s been so long since I’ve been treated like this at home. I used to go to the spa often but there’s nothing like a home massage,” Yijin mumbles, “Namjoon used to do it for me all the time before we had kids and then he got busy with work, and well, it’s the reason we have this big house.” She flips her head to the other side and you rub between her shoulder blades. “I used to be as pretty as you are.” You keep your voice quiet and meek. “Pardon? You’re still pretty, madam.” “You don’t need to flatter me.” “But it’s true…?” Your voice pitches upwards as if you’re incredulous as to how she could think otherwise. “You have a maternal aura about you that I don’t have and you’re an established professional. Women can only dream of having that.” Peering at her, you catch the way her smile sweetens. At the same time, her husband enters the bedroom. Sighing and pulling off his tie, he places his briefcase down and moves to the minibar. Namjoon pours himself a glass of whisky and collapses into the white armchair beside the modern standing lamp, thighs spread wide and rather inviting. You look up at him, lashes fluttering in curiosity. “What’s wrong?” Yijin opens one eye, clearly catching how stressed Namjoon is. “I found that damn punk’s resignation letter on my desk. He’s gone.” He lifts his glass, taking a long sip of the amber liquid and letting the glass rest between his fingertips. “Who?” “Jungkook.” “What?” Both of Yijin’s eyes peel back, pupils widening in shock. “How could that brat leave without warning?” “I don’t know.” Namjoon looks to the whiskey, exhaling yet again. “After years of working for us, he upped and disappeared. I guess workers are always like that. Sohee’s been crying and throwing a tantrum. But anyway, I need to hire someone new. I don’t know who’s going to work this far from the city though.” You continue rubbing Yijin’s back and you feel Namjoon’s gaze traveling to you from his place on the armchair. From the profile of your face, the nape of your neck, to the skin of your thighs that’s exposed from your dress being hiked up so you’re able to kneel on his mattress. Yijin makes a noise. “Well, there’s nothing we can do. Do you want a massage too? Y/N’s really amazing.” Namjoon looks away, tearing his eyes from you. “No. I’m fine. I only need to rest a bit before I have to go back to work.” His wife opens her eyes again and this time, she gets up. You lean back, allowing her to do so. “Oh my goodness! Your associate is coming for dinner tonight, isn’t he? I almost forgot!” She snaps her fingers and looks at you. “Can you please draw me a bath, Y/N? I have to look presentable.” // The business associate is Taehyung. You couldn’t roll your eyes any harder when you see the blonde seated on the leather sofa as if he owns the place, suit and tie crisp, shoes polished. You don’t know what he’s doing or how he even set himself in their lives, but you suppose you had planted yourself in this household in dubious ways too — with his help, of course. So you don’t question it too much. “I must say, this house is much more beautiful than I thought it was going to be.” “That’s all thanks to my wife,” Namjoon chuckles, hands clasped together. “She has a better sense of aesthetics than I do.” Yijin smiles. She’s dressed in another one of her rosy blouses and white skirts, polished without a hair out of place — to both play the role of the perfect wife and appeal to the handsome stranger. “Thank you. I wanted to be an interior designer a long time ago, so it was really fun to try my hand at it even if it’s not much.” “Nonsense. It’s wonderful. Do you still want to be an interior designer now? You certainly have the skills for it.” “Oh, no.” She bats the air with her hand. “I lost the dream when I got married and had kids. Plus, I don’t think I could ever work for anyone. It doesn’t really suit me.” “Ah.” Taehyung leans back, all too comfortable as he is playful. “You prefer reaping the benefits of your husband and enjoying yourself? Can’t say I blame you.” The corner of Namjoon’s mouth tilts while you approach with a bottle of wine, setting the crystal glasses down for them. “You know how women are.” “On the contrary, they’re the more intelligent ones for letting us do all the work while they take pleasure,” Taehyung says, causing the other man to laugh and agree. You round the table to pour him a glass of wine and Taehyung looks at you with that infamous smirk, but you try to not make eye contact for long. “Thank you.” You dip your head wordlessly. “Oh yes.” Yijin perks up. “Thank you for recommending the company that you did. If not, we wouldn’t have been able to hire Y/N.” “It’s not a problem at all. I’m always happy to help.” He smiles, taking the stem of the wine glass and rotating it to slosh the ruby liquid inside. “I take it she’s a good addition to the house?” “Yes, she is.” Taehyung exhales through his nostrils, lips adorned with a devilish smile. “I’m glad.” You return to the kitchen unscathed, but damning Taehyung in your head for messing with your game. Though your irritation can’t last for long when Ms. Yoo hands you a wooden tray heavy with bowls and dishes. “Can you bring this up to the master’s younger brother? He’ll be having dinner in his room today.” “Okay.” You knock on the door. There’s a pause and after a moment, you open it. Yoongi is in the same spot he was this morning, crouched over his desk with a red pen in hand, papers in front of him and round reading glasses perched on his nose. The curtains are drawn but the glow of the lamp gives him enough luminescence to work. “You can leave it over there,” he mumbles and you place it on the usual spot. The man never raises his head or pays any attention to you. Your brow cocks and you take the tall glass, deciding to bring it to him. “Here’s some water, sir.” And you purposely waver. The liquid sloshing on the sides and unceremoniously spills onto his lap. Yoongi jolts, arms lifting to save his papers while you sharply gasp. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry!” You fall onto your knees and begin dabbing all over his lap and crotch with your apron. Yet your antics doesn’t last for a few seconds before he’s brushing your hand away. “It’s fine. It’s just water.” You peer up at him through your lashes. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Kim.” “I told you to leave it over there,” he grunts, casting a measly glance at you. “But it’s fine. If you have nothing else to do, please leave. I have a lot of work to get done.” You rise to your feet and exit. He’s a harder one to crack. Those little tactics might not be enough, but you’ll get there soon enough. You’re certain of it. “Y/N?” There’s a strangled whimper and you turn around in the dark corridor to see Sohee emerge from her room. The area underneath her eyes are reddened, nose raw. Her whole body trembles as she sniffles. The girl looks small and vulnerable, almost like a puppy. “Is there something wrong?” you ask gently, akin to a mother cooing at her child. Sohee’s eyes flicker up to you. “Did...Jungkook ever tell you anything before he left?” You shake your head. “No. We were never that close. I’ve only spoken to him a few times.” She nods. There’s a beat of silence and you lift your hand to caress her hair. The girl is startled but then eases, even leaning into your tender touch. You draw your fingers through her long, straight strands, petting her gently. “I’m sure he left for good reason. Maybe something happened or it was a family emergency. He was always close to you, right?” Sohee nods again while choked cries come from her. “W-We were family.” You embrace her, patting her back and she leans on your chest. “You’re not alone, Sohee. You have me now and I won’t ever leave like Jungkook did.” She squeezes you back. But the moment is shattered by a grating voice of her mother. “Sohee! Where are you?! Get down here and greet your dad’s friend!” Her jaw clamps. She parts from you, rubbing her eyes. You watch her go and she turns around to look at you. You smile at her. // “Your maid outfit’s cute.” He appears. A creeping shadow casted against the wall first, then flesh that stitches into the room. You’re resting on your bed, leaning against the headboard and filing your nails one at a time — the yellow glow of the desk lamp giving you barely enough light. “I didn’t get a good look last time.” “What are you doing, Taehyung?” You blow against your index finger and finally ascend your gaze. “Just having a little fun,” he chimes and muses that— “You’re taking a lot longer than usual.” “Well, I’m just having some fun.” Taehyung scoffs. “Don’t take too long.” “You shouldn’t act like you’re busy when you’re not,” you bite back without missing a beat. His brow cocks, smirk playing on his lips. “I think it’s been too long since I’ve disciplined you.” Before you can react, he ambushes and pins you flat onto the bed. Taehyung hovers over you with a glint in his eyes, heavy body on top of yours, hips pressed together. He holds your wrists above your head, preventing you from squirming. But you make no attempts to do so, simply glaring at him like a petulant child. You’re neither surprised nor caught off guard. Taehyung always likes to be the one on top, in a literal and figurative sense. And truth be told, you don’t particularly mind. His pink lips are curled and he leans down to your neck. He starts to suck into your skin, rough enough to break through and your pathetic cries only spur him on. Making him smirk against you. But your fingers find their way into his hair and you yank his head back. Flesh coated in his saliva, a giant purple bruise is left blooming on your supple skin as the redness fades. “I told you no marks.” “You’re going to need it, peach,” he says with a mischievous grin and then vanishes. You’re left rolling your eyes. // The grandiose double doors have never been intimidating. Even when Ms. Yoo has warned you on your first day to not disturb the master working and to not approach unless necessary. As much of a brat as the five year old is, even he doesn’t come close to his father’s office. But to you, those doors have always signified that a very fun game is waiting behind them. Your knuckles rap against the wooden surface and you pull the golden handles without waiting for confirmation. Kim Namjoon’s seated in his leather chair behind the imposing desk, eyes flickering upwards and you smile, holding your tray higher. “It’s fruit, sir.” “That isn’t necessary,” he says and you feign dejection, downcast eyes, shoulder slumping. He swallows hard and then beckons you over. “You can bring it here.” You come forward and place the plate on a single empty spot on the desk not coated in file folders. You’re close enough that he catches a whiff of your scent and the hickey on your neck. A scoff spills from Namjoon’s chest. “You’re doing a lot of unnecessary things in my home,” he comments offhandedly, perhaps not for your ears to hear. It’s passive aggressive and you mask your smile. Namjoon looks at you. “I would prefer if you would work properly and complete your duties without doing much else.” You feign confusion. Wide-eyed blinking. Lashes batting. As if giving you the reason for his mention, his eyes linger at the hickey. In a delayed manner, your hand raises to the juncture of your neck, covering the spot Taehyung made like that alone could remove it. And then, you immediately drop to the ground on your knees. “I-I’m so sorry, sir. It...it wasn’t my fault,” you cry out, searching the floor as the volume of your voice becomes timid and shy. It isn’t hard to come up with an excuse. “J-Jungkook did it. I didn’t know what he was doing, but he cornered me in the laundry room and I..told him to stop...but…” He slams his desk. Hand curled into a tight fist. Making the pens on the surface jump. It’s startling and you look up at him, viewing just how upset he is. “He left the next morning and hasn’t been back…” “So that’s why he left. Why didn’t you tell me?” Namjoon stares at you in distress. “This is very serious.” You shake your head. “I was afraid of saying anything. I know Jungkook’s been here longer than I have, so I didn’t think anyone would believe me and I can’t lose this job, sir.” Your head tilts to look up at him, eyes gleaming through your lashes, lips pouted, still on your knees. “I’m sorry.” The man sighs. “There’s no reason to apologize. If he ever comes back, I’ll call the police immediately. No one in this household should ever feel unsafe. I’ll promise you that.” You nod and he helps pull you up by your arm. You stagger upwards and on weakened knees, you stumble. With agile skills Taehyung would be proud of, you land on the man’s lap. Perched on his spread thighs, your legs placed along one side, and hands securely on his shoulders. Namjoon’s steadied you as well with his own palms sprawled on the small of your waist. And your parted lips are gasping mere millimeters away from his. It’s an intimate moment. One where your gazes lock. One where you make sure lasts three seconds to imprint into his mind. And then true to the character you’ve created, you pull yourself away. You grab your chair and dip your head. “I’m so sorry, sir.” Before the master of the house can get another word out, you run out the room. The minute you’re outside, you run into Yoongi. Passing by, he cocks a brow at the way you frantically shut the doors and your breathing is laboured as if you ran a marathon. “Something wrong?” Your head shakes and you devilishly smile at him. “It’s nothing at all.” // It’s a game with these mortal men. You know they want you — that they helplessly dream about you at night. Your words, your lips, you crawling over to them and doing whatever they ask. Showing what reality could be. But the more you let them peek without giving it to them, the deeper they fall into your trap of honey. “What do you think?” You place the papers down, a tender smile placed on your features. “Shouldn’t you ask your uncle who’s an editor to look over your essay instead of me?” Sohee playfully sulks. “Yeah, but he’s always busy. I don’t want to bother him.” “You made a few errors here and the conclusion isn’t as strong as the introduction. I think you should expand on this point into one or two more sentences. But overall it’s very well written, Sohee. You might even have a knack for writing.” The girl nods with a grin and when you stroke her hair while telling her how proud you are, she looks up at you and leans into your touch. Ms. Yoo enters the dining room, endeared at the sight of you and Sohee sitting together at the table and working on her homework. She’s reluctant to interrupt but does so anyways. “Y/N, the master is calling for you.” The housekeeper never tells you for what purpose, but you have an inkling sprouted from your intuition. Swiftly, you leave and Ms. Yoo takes your place as Sohee continues on other assignments she’s able to do on her own. The pair of them are equally unsuspecting. It’s evening and long after dinner. The sun is dipping over the horizon, crimson shades fuzzy in the sky. Everyone is preoccupied and there’s no real reason why he should be calling you. But you don’t hesitate. Your knuckles rap against the grandiose doors. There’s a pause and you push it open. Inside, there’s a fire roaring in the fireplace — above the mantle is the family portrait — and the man is standing and staring at the flickering flames. His face casted by the warm glow and he’s nursing a glass of whiskey. Namjoon raises his head as you push the door back to where it was, leaving it slightly parted. “Good evening.” “Is there something wrong, sir?” He shakes his head. “Not at all. I’ve just been thinking and I...realized I haven’t been as kind to you as I should’ve been. It didn’t occur to me that this wasn’t a safe place for you and I want to change that. I don’t want anyone in this house to be afraid.” You know he’s referring to what you’ve accused Jungkook of doing and promptly you close the distance. Your steps are slow as your hips sway and you look at him through lidded eyes. “Sir.” You keep your voice low. “This has always been a safe place to me, because I know you’re here.” Your eyes locked into one another and a tense silence lingers. Finally, Namjoon swallows hard and diverts his vision. “Would you like a drink?” “I-Is that allowed, sir?” “I’ll allow it.” The suited man smiles and moves to sit on his dark leather couch. There are two couches facing one another by the fireplace with a coffee table in between, opposite of his desk and the bookshelves. A once private sanctuary meant for no one but him, yet you have an exclusive invitation. His thighs spread as he gets comfortable and he reaches for the fancy bottle of whiskey. Namjoon pours a glass of the amber liquid. It sloshes on the side and he extends his arm. You take it nervously as if you’ve never drank much before. “You don’t have to drink it all if you don’t want to.” “It’s not that.” You smile at him through your lashes. “I’m just wondering how expensive it is.” Namjoon scoffs lightly, but not out of malice or annoyance. It’s from endearment. “You don’t need to worry about that.” The rim of the glass is placed between your plush lips and you take a sip. It’s bitter, but slides smoothly down. He watches you and in the meanwhile, your eyes flicker away from him. Something catches your attention on a mahogany bookshelf, so you cross the room. You allow your knees to brush against his, the loose strands of your hair nearly skimming along his nose. Namjoon clears his throat, holding the crystal glass casually between his fingertips. “Can I ask what kind of perfume you use?” You twist around with another easy smile. “I don’t really use any, sir.” Bending over in his line of vision, you look at his stacks of books and other knick-knacks on his shelf. “You have chess?” “I do.” He places his glass down. “Do you want to play?” You turn around with another coy smile. “Can we really?” The darkness of the room thickens, fire crackling and sputtering in the background. The glow is dim against your profiles and casts your shadows along the wall. The game of chess has been set on the small table. You tell him you barely know how to play to which he replied he’d go easy on you. A few minutes have passed and you’ve moved a few pawns around. Yet, it’s intimate and quiet as if the room is hidden away from the rest of the house. Something you’re sure isn’t too far off. “Are you alright, sir?” you ask in a husky murmur, pupils flickering up to him as he’s mid-way from taking another sip of his whisky. “You seemed pretty stressed a few days ago.” Namjoon leans back into the seat. It sinks underneath his weight. His thighs are spread as you hold your knight, still debating on where to place it on the board. “I still am, but it's just the usual business stress.” “Your wife worries a lot.” You place the chess piece down and he leans forward again, capturing your pawn with one smooth move of his rook. “You don’t need to try to make me feel better. I know she doesn’t care.” “That’s not true,” you refute half-heartedly. “Why do you feel that way?” “It’s obvious,” he mumbles and takes another pawn of yours when you move it. “My wife is more preoccupied with using my credit card and all she does all day is nag which makes it worse.” You move your bishop across the board. “Because of her, we have to have two live-in maids in the house at all times,” Namjoon continues. The liquor makes it easy for him to relax and let the truth spill. He’s defenseless. “Sohee doesn’t get along with her at all and Jaesun isn’t disciplined whatsoever. Sometimes I wonder why my family is like this and where it went wrong.” The older man exhales and slides his king forward. He waits for your next move, but you don’t go. Your gaze is pinned on him and his eyes travel upwards to connect with yours. “It doesn’t need to be that way, sir,” you whisper. It’s your moment. You can feel it. And you disregard the game in favour of crawling towards him. The chess pieces knock over, some to the table and the others collide to the ground. He has no idea you were two moves away from checkmate. In seconds, you straddle his thighs. Namjoon’s at a loss, arms not yet touching you, but hands never pushing you off of him. His eyes have gone hazy. He’s completely entranced by you, bewitched under your spell. Vulnerable to your seduction and the wicked temptation you offer. “What are you doing?” His breath laboured and he tries to muster sternness to no avail, as if you shouldn’t entice him with such a dangerous game. The corner of your lip pulls into a devilish smile. “I’m doing to fulfill every single one of your fantasies, daddy.” And you kiss him. Slotting your soft lips against his chapped ones, letting them move gently. It’s a brief moment before Namjoon surges forward like a man possessed. Namjoon’s hands grab your ass and he pushes you forward until you’re sitting directly sitting above his crotch. You whimper, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. His brows furrow, mouth parting from the pain and you steal the chance to deepen the kiss. He struggles for control but you ultimately give it to him, feigning submission. It’s too easy. You roll your hips over his hardened crotch, feeling how your panties stick to your slick folds, and he grabs hold of your waist. The pair of you break away from the kiss with your arms wrapped possessively around his shoulders. “God, you knew what you were doing this entire time, weren’t you?” Namjoon’s chest heaves against yours. “Every time you fucking bent over. Every time you tried to play coy. Such a goddamn tease.” His fingers rub over your wet lips then down to your neck and collarbones. His hands travel to the low collar of your dress and then he tears it. The fabric rips against the threads and you whine in shock. But Namjoon never halts, undoing your bra and tossing it aside. He grabs a handful of your soft breast and pinches your nipples roughly until the bud hardens against the pad of his fingers. You sob out as he watches you through lidded eyes, mesmerized by the way your expression contorts into pleasure. “I can see why Jeon liked you so much.” “But I didn’t want him to touch me, daddy.” You pout at him. The thin layer of your panties and his slacks prevents you from feeling it completely, but it’s still dry fucking. “I-I only wanted you.” “And you’re going to have me,” the man grunts and pulls aside the skirt of your uniform. His hand dips past your thin, white underwear and his fingers feel against your folds. “Fuck,” he hotly exhales, “you’re soaked. Do you really want me that badly?” “Yes, daddy.” Without warning, Namjoon’s index and middle finger plunges into your cunt until he’s knuckle deep. You cry out, hugging him tighter to you and he pants, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Your cunt is so tight.” You squeeze around his prodding fingers. “Tighter than your wife’s?” Before he can answer, you kiss him again. Your sticky tongues interlace, sloppy and obscene. You taste his spit at the back of your throat — and it’s just the way you like it. The kiss lasts long enough that you can swallow his groan and you pull off his suit jacket. The rest of your dress pools around your hips. It becomes frantic after that, breaking apart just to rid of your clothes. He tosses your ruined underwear aside, but keeps the rest of his own attire on. It’s some kind of power play as if you should be the only one naked and vulnerable. Yet he’s oblivious to how you have him wrapped around your finger. “Tell daddy.” The older man’s hand wraps around your throat gently. “Have you ever been fucked properly before?” His slacks have been tugged down enough that his cock has sprung free and his other hand grips the base of it. The reddened tip leaks with a bead of precum and you eye how big he really is. It’s more than Jungkook’s but less than Taehyung’s. You shake your head and lie. “No.” Namjoon cusses. “Is that okay?” you timidly whimper and he smirks. “More than okay, baby. It won’t hurt too bad.” He guides his shaft to your pulsing cunt and runs the head of his cock along the collected wetness that has stained his pants and dripped to his leather couch. Both of you lower your heads, watching as he starts pushing through your folds. Immediately, your fingers tighten on his shoulders, wrinkling his expensive white shirt that was ironed by his wife. Namjoon shushes you. “Relax. It’s okay.” “I-It’s too much, daddy,” you complain in a pitched voice. “It’s too big.” His jaw ticks, fingers sinking deeper into the flesh of your parted thighs. “You can take it.” You nod and sink down on him slowly, making sure to draw it out as long as you can. And Namjoon’s head falls back. He groans and makes it balls deep inside of you. You make sure to tremble and squeeze around him, keeping his cock at a vice grip. “Is this okay?” “Uh-huh, sweetheart. It’s great.” With his eyes closed, he misses your smirk. You begin to fuck yourself onto him, feeling the pull and thrust of his big shaft dragging along your wet walls. The way your cunt stretches deliciously. Namjoon meets you half-way, hips thrusting upwards while you rock yourself against him. Your nipples are hardened and your breasts bounce in front of him. Tying the sight all together, you reach behind and pull the pins from your hair, letting it cascade down. You know it must be a sight for sore eyes. While you’ve never flaunted your appearance, you know you’ve been subtly altered to lure mortal men in. Your face and body are the accumulation of their fantasies. And it’s effortless to tempt them. To captivate their attention with a simple smile. You’ve looked at yourself enough times in the mirror to know that you aren't shabby too. “Daddy, it f-feels...so good,” the words are choked out of you, sobbed as you bat your lashes. Jungkook, the poor boy, was much more eager and sweeter. But with Namjoon, his experience is evident in his strokes. He’s rougher with the way he squeezes your ass until a handprint is left. There’s less regard with how he treats you, as if you’re just a pretty placeholder merely giving pleasure. His hard thrusts against your cervix would hurt if not for how the pleasure overtakes you. “You have to pull out, daddy,” you stutter. “I-I can’t get pregnant.” Your kind can’t carry children from mortals but he doesn’t need to know that. “I’ll do whatever I want,” Namjoon grunts, jaw clamped and brows furrowed. He sweats at his hairline. “I’ll cum where I want.” You give a loud and exasperated moan that you hope he enjoys. “B-But it’s not right.” “Shush. I’ll take care of you.” You squeeze around him again, hands tight on his shoulders. Namjoon’s eyes are shut as he revels in the feeling of you rocking against him and you smirk, looking down at him. At how pathetic he’s gotten. Just sitting on his lap and giving a simple kiss was enough to reduce him to this mess. From an established mogul in his forties into a helpless, hormonal teenage boy. In a few minutes, he’s thrown away years of marriage and loyalty for his wife for some maid’s cunt. A measly housemaid who’s supposed to be only a few years older than his own daughter. Taehyung was right — this is fun. At the same time, Sohee walks up the stairs while humming, hugging her textbooks to her body. She beelines straight to your room at the end of the other hall, wanting to show off how she’s finished everything and secretly hoping that you’ll gently stroke her hair like you always do. But as she passes by her father’s office, her ears catch a high-pitched whine. She stops. On sheer instincts, her head swivels over. And through the crack, she finds her dad’s backside. She sees the way you’re on top of him, naked, riding her father. Your eyes flicker to her through the gap. She gasps. Sohee backs away into the darkness. She turns around, a thick lump forming in her throat, her brows knitted together. But she doesn’t watch where she’s going and her mother meets her in the corridor. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be in bed, Sohee.” Yijin’s voice is grating to the ears and she frowns at her daughter’s disposition. The way her downcast head and eyes search the ground. She looks like she’s seen a ghost. “What’s wrong with you?” She doesn’t mean to — but Sohee’s eyes incidentally travel back to the grandiose double doors. And Yijin follows her line of sight. // “I can’t believe you’ve done this!” Her screeches fill the manor. It’s always been noisy, but never solely because of an individual and certainly never at this ear screeching pitch. “How could you do this to me?!” Yijin’s absolutely deranged. She’s throwing a fuss early morning after what she saw last night and retreated to her bedroom. She waited for him to return. Yet Namjoon never came to join her. Now she stands at the foyer with a suitcase that Ms. Yoo packed, but she has no plans of leaving. Instead, she’s tossing porcelain vases on the ground and tugging the tablecloth off of the table. The display case is open and fragments of antiquities litter the marble floor. Jaesun is crying hysterically at the staircase while rubbing his eyes with two tight fists. Sohee remains silent, standing at the top and looking down at her mother. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” The woman shrieks at Namjoon who stands there motionlessly, expression blank and impassive. It doesn’t seem like she’ll be satisfied until she gets a remorseful reaction from him or tears this entire house apart. Either of which you’d be amused to see. “You selfish bastard!” Although this was entertaining in itself. You’ve never seen her like this before. The once polished and poised woman has been diminished to this vengeful bitch that’s about to pop a vein — a version of herself that you always knew was hidden deep inside. Ms. Yoo is the only one who comes forward and tries to put a stop to it. “Please, madam. Don’t do this,” she pleads softly, tears streaking down her own face. Jaesun weeps. “Mommy!” “Madam, please,” Ms. Yoo begs as if she’s trying to placate a child throwing a temper tantrum. “You’re only going to hurt yourself.” “You can’t do this to me, Namjoon!” Yijin’s hair is all in front of her face in a tangled mess. Her dress is wrinkled and she’s bare feet. Crazed — just like her husband was last night….except in different contexts. Ms. Yoo starts to guide her away from the foyer to the front door, dragging the suitcase with her. “Even if you divorce me, I could still get the house! Get our kids! Namjoon! Fuckin— Namjoon!” Ms. Yoo pulls her out the door while crying and Yijin collapses at the steps as violent sobs wrack through her. The housekeeper sets the suitcase outside and looks down, hesitating. Namjoon deadpans, “Close the door, Ms. Yoo.” She shuts it. Fists bang against the surface for a moment before it stops, being replaced by the noise of wails. Instantly, Sohee runs upstairs, disappearing from sight. Namjoon turns away. Ms. Yoo sighs, taking Jaesun’s hand and comforting him. The only other person is Yoongi. His gaze is darkened and he leans against the wall with arms crossed. You turn and his eyes pierce into yours. But wordlessly, you bow your head to him and go on about your day. // The house is finally quiet. Just the way you like it. But it brews with a sort of intensity, a tension that doesn’t let you breathe easy. It was the calm before the final storm and your guard wasn’t going to be put down just yet. You knock against Sohee’s bedroom door and after hearing no protests, you open it. She’s laying on her bed, covers over her head, having skipped school today which no one blamed her for. You clear your throat, speaking gently as if you were cooing a puppy, “You didn’t have any breakfast, so I brought you hot chocolate, Sohee. I’ll leave it on your nightstand.” The mug is placed down and as you turn away, the sound of rustling slows your steps. She’s come up for air, hair in a disarray and covering her face, and she calls for you, “Y/N.” “Hmm?” “Are…..” She hesitates and you take the invitation to sit at the edge of her bed. The girl looks up at you after a moment. “Are you going to become my new mom?” The pause is purposeful. It makes it seem as if you’re considering it. Makes it seem as if you’re staring at her because you’re wholeheartedly endeared by her. And that nothing else matters. To top it off, your arms reach out and you hug her. Sohee is vulnerable, small against you and she eases in your secure embrace, allowing you to hold her. You even run your fingers through her hair, caressing her gently and she softly sighs, relishing in the comfort she never received from her own mother. In a lot of ways, you share many similarities with her. “I’m sorry, Sohee,” you murmur. “I didn’t mean you to see that. For all this to happen. I adore you and if you want me to be your new mom, I will, but it’ll be a decision made with you.” She nods against your shoulder and the corner of your mouth pulls into a subtle smirk. To think she would ask such a question merely hours after her biological mother was booted out the house is both astounding and unsurprising. It’s partly from her poor relationship with the woman and how she was charmed by you moments after your first encounter. A kind of love at first sight. Not unlike how most men succumb to your allure — yet differing from lust. Instead, Sohee has developed a familial affection towards you. But not everyone is as welcome as she is to the new change. “Did you have anything to do with this?” Yoongi asks you. A surprise that he’s stepped out of his bedroom for some sunlight. Or perhaps to find answers. You hum, continuing to place the stack of books back onto the shelf in the living room. “Maybe.” His cat-like eyes are focused, pierced into you with a kind of intensity that would make anyone sweat. But you aren’t anyone. “What are your plans? Is it the inheritance? The status? Namjoon’s money—” “Neither.” Finished with your task, you move to the kitchen. But Yoongi blocks the doorway, leaning against it and never moving away. You stop, allowing your bodies to press together, testing as to who will give in first. Yet, he never once yields. Wavers. You’re close enough that he can feel your hot breath against his skin and as his jaw clamps, your pupils flicker down to his pouty mouth. Against his own will, his eyes mimic yours. They follow to your own lips. And you smirk. It’s a heated moment and then you brush away from the sharp-witted man. // For a short while, there’s a mirage that the game has several winners. But the instant gratification comes with consequences and there is only one ultimate victor. “I’m terribly sorry, but I can’t work in these conditions. With the madam gone, it’s just too hard for me. I…” Ms. Yoo shakes her head tearfully, a wrinkled hand placed over her chest where her heart is. “I’ve spent decades working in this house, master Kim, and I think it’s time I retire and spend some time with my grandchildren.” Namjoon stares out the window, unable to work, unable to move. His frustration overwhelms him. “I won’t force you to stay, Ms. Yoo. Sohee and Jaesun will miss you, but you’ve done a lot for my family and I. We couldn’t thank you enough for your dedication and hard work over the years.” He is calm and she bows her head before retreating. You catch her in the corridor and she takes your hands, squeezing them and wishing you the best of luck with a sweet smile. After Ms. Yoo leaves, you wipe your hands against your collared dress. You knock on the grandiose doors. “Get out.” Disregarding his command, you enter anyway. Namjoon is disgruntled, seated behind his desk in his leather chair, a finished glass of whiskey discarded on the side. His hands are clasped together, elbows propped on the surface and he leans his head on his fingers. “What don’t you understand? Leave!” But you approach him until you can press your hands on the edge of his desk and lean forward. The once powerful man established in his wealth looks up at you, dark circles deepening, the wrinkle between his brows made permanent. He stares at you as if you’re a fearsome curse, a bothersome pest, a fiend. And you have to resist the delicious smirk that tickles your lips. “You did this to me,” he mutters, simmering in animosity. “You destroyed me.” You round the oak furniture and plop down onto his lap. Before he can shove you off, you grab his hair from the back of his head, letting the strands thread through your fingers, and you pull. He groans, chin lifting up. “You were the one who made the decision,” you tell him. “It’s you who became weak. You thought about me and even now, you still want me.” The edge of your mouth tilts and you watch as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat before you lean in, whispering in his ear, “You can’t stop thinking about me, can you, Namjoon?” “You’re a vixen.” “Oh, I’m much more than that.” You end up sinking to your knees and taking him to the back of your throat. He cums there, the taste salty and consistency thick — a kind of bitterness that you’ve learnt to find savoury. And Namjoon cums again in your tight cunt when you’re bent over his desk and he’s pounding into you, fucking you hard enough to feel his anger and for your ass to bruise against his pelvis. “N-Namjoon, it feels so good.” “Shut the fuck up, slut.” He sweats at his hairline, holding your hips and jostling you around as he chases his own release. You look across the room to the family portrait above the mantle and smirk to yourself. “I-I’ll spank your cunt again.” He couldn’t even scold you. He couldn’t blame you for ruining his marriage. You have him wrapped around your finger. // The photograph captured a moment of Namjoon holding newborn Jaesun, Yijin smiling with her arm looped around Sohee who was only eleven at the time. They’re in front of the house with Ms. Yoo beside them wearing a grin. She remembers that day, the family barbecue outside, the laughter and joyous atmosphere. Yet now, Ms. Yoo only sighs to herself and packs the framed picture into her duffle bag. “You’re still here?” Your voice nearly startles the old woman to death. She jumps and turns around, finding you at the doorway. “Yes, I was just finishing up. I didn’t realize I had so many belongings. I guess this is what thirty years gives you.” Ms. Yoo takes a gander around the room, what was her home, then to you. She never once notices Namjoon’s cum dripping down your thigh from your messy and puffed center that still delightfully aches. “I’m going to miss this place.” “Or you could always stay.” Not wanting to waste any more time, you take three strides and your mouth presses against hers. The older woman is shocked, eyes widened at your kiss, but you inhale. She goes limp against you. Her soul taken right from her. And Ms. Yoo collapses to the ground. You shudder at the taste, at how your guts coil inwards. It’s terribly bland. Her soul isn’t half of what it takes to satisfy you. Not like you’re surprised. As a succubus who’s meant to entice mortal men, male souls are the desirable ones. You wait for Taehyung to come pick up the corpse, but he never shows up and you curse him. He always finds a way to show his face and steal the good souls away from you, satisfying his own appetite and leaving the scraps left for you. But when it comes to souls that are bland to you and therefore bland to him, suddenly he has no business manifesting himself. You kick Ms. Yoo’s lifeless body and having no other options, you roll her heavy body with the rectangular carpet. You start sweating as you heave her up. But with enough effort, you manage to stuff her in the closet and shut the doors. Someone will deal with that later. // It’s amusing. Namjoon does everything within his power to act like nothing’s changed. That nothing’s happened and he isn’t missing his wife or housekeeper in his home. He grabs onto any semblance of normalcy, perhaps to cope with the changes of the past twenty four hours. He calls for dinner to be set at the usual time and you’re thankful Ms. Yoo made sure the fridge was stocked up before she was to leave. All you do is slap the container food into bowls and heat them in the microwave before setting the table as you usually do. The entire family gathers around the table — Sohee, Jaesun, Namjoon and even Yoongi. “Y/N will be joining us for dinner,” Namjoon suddenly announces as you set down the last bowl. Your brow raises and Yoongi’s eyes round but no one questions it. Not even Jaesun who often throws tantrums. The kid merely pouts. Never once lifting his spoon of rice into his mouth, putting on a defiant act, but you don’t care. If the brat wants to starve, he can starve. You sit down beside Namjoon, across from Yoongi and diagonal to Sohee. It’s tense at the table, the silence suffocating those around it. But you settle in comfortably and even pass some side dishes directly into Sohee’s bowl that you know she likes. Her eyes flicker up to you and a tiny smile tugs on her face. “Thank you.” Namjoon clears his throat and looks to his brother. “You were working on editing a science textbook, right?” “Biology,” Yoongi answers shortly. “For grade eight students.” “And how is that coming along?” They continue their conversation, making some small talk and you chew in your cheek while your foot lifts underneath the table. Your leg stretches and it grazes along the leg of the man across from you. Yoongi immediately freezes. His brown eyes pool close to black and he glares. But you don’t let up, stroking the inside of his leg as you eat and look away from him. Yoongi pushes away. You scoot yourself forward. He tries not to draw attention to himself. Asked another question, he gives half a mind to responding. Your toes slowly travel up to his thighs and then they tickle and twitch against his crotch. Yoongi’s breath staccatos. No one knows that you’re playing footsies with Yoongi underneath the table. That you can feel the way he hardens against his sweatpants. “What game do you think you’re playing?!” he harshly whispers after dinner when the two of you are away from the others. Yoongi corners you, his good looks sadly marred by his twisted expression. You blink, feigning ignorance. “What do you mean?” But the little act doesn’t faze him. You knew it wouldn’t work the second you met the man. “I know you have something to do with Yijin leaving.” “I didn’t do anything, Yoongi.” You grab his shoulders, pulling him closer until his body is pressed against yours and you grin, breath skimming along his neck. “The dominoes were already in place long before I came here. You know that too. I just needed to give it a little push,” you exhale the word and he can’t stop himself from swallowing hard. From staring at you. He eventually musters enough self-control to push you away and leave. You turn the corner, the darkness enveloping the corridor and bringing a sort of eeriness. But it might just be from Taehyung who you find leaning against the wall. His arms are crossed and he’s smirking. “Aren’t you having a little too much fun, peach?” “This is the best part.” You loll your head to one side. “Sometimes playing with your food before you eat it makes it much more appetizing.” He laughs, chuckling from his chest and the sound tinkles. “I taught you well.” Taehyung pushes himself off the surface and as he passes by you, he taps your butt. He disappears seconds later, leaving you on your lonesome to keep playing. // Everything is falling into place. It’s like you’re playing chess without an opponent, simply arranging your pawns as you’d like on the board. But because of how effortless and simple it is, it’s easy to get bored. One day you’re waking up to a blaring alarm clock and slaving after the whims of humans as their servant and the next, you wake beside Namjoon in the master bedroom, having taken the madam’s place. You slept on her sheets, on her pillow, beside her husband. There’s nothing fun about it anymore once you’ve won. You roll over to straddle Namjoon’s hips, placing his morning wood right under your center. He’s shaken awake by the movement and groans, rough hands instinctively coming to grab your ass. “W-What time is it?” his voice is still thick with sleep and you smile devilishly, rubbing your clit through your silk slip that barely covers your nipples. Your pink cunt is still swollen from last night’s endeavours, but you think one last one ought to be enough. You won’t miss his cock after this. “You were dreaming about me, weren’t you, Namjoon?” you whisper and before he can respond, your hands reach out, wrapping around his neck. He’s completely at your mercy. The man slowly blinks awake, coming to consciousness and a staggering exhale leaves his mouth as you position the bulborous head of his shaft to your folds. He mumbles something about how insatiable you are and lightly chuckles. But Namjoon should consider himself lucky. It’s not often you let the same human fuck you three times. He pounds into you, hips lifting off the mattress. The stretch of your pussy is rather pleasing, but with the repetitiveness, your mind wanders and your hands around his neck tighten. You cut off Namjoon’s airway and his eyes slam shut with a loud groan. You can practically feel his cock twitch inside of you. Unfortunately, the man loses it all too soon. It’s a bit amateurish for someone as experienced and punishing as he is, but you don’t blame him. Well...only a little as you lean down and capture your mouth with Namjoon’s before inhaling sharply. Out of the three times you spread your legs for him and the numerous times you let his cum leak out of your pussy and drip down your thighs, he only made you cum once. It’s kind of sad. Selfish. Once you’re done with him, he falls back. You hum to yourself as you climb off the man’s used dick and move to the vanity across the luxurious bedroom. You freshen up and pin up your hair, allowing a few strands to frame your face. After you’re satisfied, you grab Yijin’s shawl to cover your top half and you stride down the hall to Yoongi’s door. He’s at his desk as usual, red pen in hand, crouched over a stack of papers. But the curtains aren’t drawn, allowing the bright sunlight through his modest room. “Mornin’.” He turns around, brow raised, eyeing how you’re leaning against the door frame, casually greeting him in spite of being dressed in a measly scrap of fabric. “What are you doing?” You quirk your head. “Something we should’ve done a long time ago.” “And what is that?” “Hmmm, I think you know, Yoongi.” You flick a piece of dirt from underneath your fingernail. “Let’s not drag this on for any longer than we have to.” You stay ambiguous and he maintains an impassive expression. But his stoicness has no effect to deter you when you smile and approach him slowly. “You know, I was once like you. Complacent. Quiet. A little like Sohee too, maybe even more naive than she is right now.” “Once?” “A long time ago,” you hum. “I was going to get married to a bad, bad man until I became liberated.” You come close enough to grab a fistful of his hair at the back of his head. His head tilts upwards when you tug, powerless to your enchantment. “It’s okay to give in, Yoongi,” you whisper against his skin. “It’s okay to be selfish and indulgent. You’ve done so well up to now.” “What makes you think I’ll sleep with my brother’s mistress?” he asks in a harsher tone. “The whore that ruined his entire family.” You laugh. “That’s not very nice.” “But isn’t it the truth?” “It is. But I’m supposed to be irresistible to men. Your restraint is impressive, Yoongi, but it’s only natural that you give into your primitive needs or at least be honest with yourself. You dream about me, don’t you?” The ongoing silence makes your grin widen and your eyes glimmer in the morning sunlight. “You’ve fantasized about me a lot. You want me.” You lower yourself, hooded eyes connected with his. Your hair is messy, yet not in a disoriented way from sleeping. Yoongi smell it on you too — the sweat and musty scent. “You fucked my brother.” “And I can fuck you too.” You surge forward, capturing his mouth with your own. It’s different. Languid with the soft caresses of tongue, his lips not chapped but puffy. The kiss is slow and lazy. Not eager like Jungkook but not as rough as Namjoon. Yoongi sighs, savouring and truly enjoying it, and it’s something you lean into. You match his speed and rhythm and once you pull away, his eyes are hazy. Yoongi pants, swallowing hard. “Who...are you?” “Secret,” you sing-song and pull him towards you. The two of you nearly fall to the floor, though his bed is close enough in his small room that you collide against the mattress. The man hovers over you and you hold his arms in a vice grip. Cocking your head to the side, you giggle. “This is fun, isn’t it?” “You’re a heathen.” “Not quite, but close enough.” You grin and kiss him again. It feels good to. Not long after that, you’re beneath him and he’s bare, quiet without a single moan. His cock draws deep into you leisurely, languid rolls that’s not necessarily chasing for an end but relishing in the pleasure. “I was never going to fuck you,” Yoongi murmurs. “Even if I wanted to.” You pout. “Why not?” “Because I have dignity and respect for myself.” You scoff. “Guess you lost all that.” “No. I still do.” His voice is husky around the edges. “But if I give you what you want, maybe I’ll understand your intentions better.” The corner of your mouth curls and your hips lift to meet Yoongi’s. You squeeze around him just to tease. “And what do you think my intentions are?” “I-I still don’t know yet.” He sweats, hips sped up and then keeps a constant rhythm. “Why do you do the things that you do? Why did you try to tear this house apart? Gain Sohee’s favour.” Yoongi’s brown eyes pierce into you. He’s a perceptive man. “You don’t love Namjoon. I don’t think you loved Jungkook either.” “Jungkook?” “He would’ve never left like that out of his own free will.” “You’re smart,” you coo affectionately and run your hands through his fluffy hair. It’s such a shame he’s just a mortal. “I promise you’ll know by the end of this, Yoongi.” Another minute passes and Yoongi pulls out. You watch as he pumps himself thrice and finishes on your stomach with a quiet grunt, cum painting all over your flesh. You’re about to grab his shoulder to kiss him, but he parts your thighs and lowers himself. His mouth attaches to your cunt, forcing his wet tongue inside your used hole and he eats you out, licking at the juices that leak out of you. But he remains meticulous and careful, drawing unrestrained moans from your lungs. “S-So good…” Yoongi works you up until you feel hot all over your body and your hands have sunk into his head of hair, threading through the strands. As if that wasn’t enough, he sucks on your clit and inserts his index into your walls. He sinks deep and curls the finger against the perfect spot. Your back arches and you cum all over his tongue. He lets you ride it out against the stiff muscle and his plush lips before he’s lifting himself up, revealing all of your slick that’s coated his mouth and chin. “Thank you,” you pant, chest heaving. You gaze at Yoongi with heavy lids and you sit up. “I’ll give you the answer to your questions. Who I am. Why I’m here.” You cradle his cheeks in your palms and you lean forward. Yoongi’s eyes droop and he kisses you back, softly and deeply. You keep it slow too, savouring the taste of yourself on his palette and then, when the moment is right, you inhale. His lids open slightly, feeling himself weaken. Yoongi’s not sure if it’s from exhaustion, but as your kiss continues, his surroundings blurs more. He groans at the back of his throat, wanting to pull away, but without having the strength to. The world around him darkens. His consciousness lasts three seconds afterwards. Enough to realize you’re a monster. Yoongi’s body falls back onto the mattress. His soul has been consumed by you and as tasty as it was, you’re a bit regretful. You pull the plush blanket up to give him some modesty and you ruffle your fingers through his bangs. “Truthfully, I liked you the best in this house.” The sadness lasts another second before you’re humming and climbing off the bed. The job is finally done and you roll your shoulders, walking out the room. As you do so, your exterior finally sheds of your human disguise into your true form. While your face remains the same, your lips redden and your hair becomes luscious and longer, draping your backside. The white, silk slip morphs to a dress in the blinding shade of crimson. It hugs your body, from the dip of your waist to the swell of your breasts. And at the crown of your head, two small horns manifest. Downstairs, Taehyung is standing on the porch. He turns as you join his side and smirks. “About time you finished, peach.” He’s been watching Jaesun. The five year old is running around the backyard underneath the sun and flinging around the toys his wealthy parents got for him. He’s completely oblivious to the situation and unquestioning to Taehyung’s presence. Taehyung is the tamer of all brats after all. “Didn’t you say I could take my time to have fun?” “I think you’ve been having too much fun.” The corner of your reddened lips pull. “I don’t think so.” “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself though.” He lolls his head over and grabs a hold of your chin. Taehyung leans himself down to your height and comes forward for an invasive kiss. Without warning, he licks into your mouth and you moan helplessly, completely at his mercy. Taehyung’s tongue is sticky as he tastes you, calm yet impatient. It’s a pleasant kind of intimacy as he steals your breath. But when he starts to inhale deep, you bite him. Taehyung pulls back with a grin, the bottom of his lip split slightly. You pout. “You should at least give me some. I worked hard for those souls, you know.” He gives you a look. “Did you really?” “More work than usual,” you bite back. A black cat mewls at Jaesun. The kid swivels his head over, fascination growing as the feline hops from the fence to the grass gracefully as if inviting him to play. The cat has a short but luscious coat and its tail curls, green eyes wide. Jaesun instantly drops the ball he’s holding. His greedy hands extend and he follows the cat behind some bushes. There’s a flash of bright light and Jimin stretches himself out from his feline form. He cracks his bones and leans over, interrupting your conversation. “Thanks for the kid, Tae.” Taehyung waves. “No problem, Chim.”

Sohee wakes up to a silent house. There’s a strangeness in the air, a certain uneasy feeling in her body, but she dresses herself and continues her morning. It’s when the peace is ongoing that she searches for people, for her father first. She screams when she discovers Namjoon on the bed lifeless. No matter how much she shakes him or calls out his name, he never moves or twitches. He doesn’t breathe. The girl cries and runs to her uncle for help. But he, too, isn’t sleeping and isn’t resting like he appears to be. The man’s skin has gone cold, eyes shut tight, his lips pale. She cups a hand over her mouth, silencing a sob in the eerie house and she stumbles down the steps. There’s only one person left. One person to help her. And she sees you through the back door on the porch. Standing next to a tall man. Sohee’s confusion stops her tears while hiccups continue to wrack through her body. “W-Who are you?” The two of you turn at the sound of her voice. Taehyung grins. “Oh. Nice to see you again, little girl. Remember me?” Sohee’s eyes are swollen, cheeks stained with saltwater. Her body trembles as she grips the door frame. You coo at her, stepping forward with your arms open but she flinches. “W-What did you do to them?” You sigh, arms dropping to your side, yet your voice remains tender. “They got what they deserved, Sohee.” “W-W...h..at?” “They succumbed to their primitive desires and suffered the punishment for it.” “This is what you wanted, didn’t you?” Taehyung’s brow cocks and he smiles at her. “You were the one who summoned me here in the first place.” Confusion is marked across her visage — brows furrowed, mouth lopsided. But it was Sohee that called out to you and Taehyung. She was the one who began your assignment. She was the one who invited the pair of you into her home. Practically opened the door and ushered you in desperately. “All those nights of prayer, did you really think God would grant you such evil wishes to get rid of your family? You were praying to the devil, little girl.” Incubi and succubi like you and Taehyung need invitations to enter an abode. Yet Sohee handed the both of you that on a silver platter. Taehyung might’ve assigned the task to you, but it was a win-win. Not only could you grant her wish, but you could reap all the benefits by stealing the souls of her family members and indulging in their lust. “All those nights of wishing your mother would get hit by a car. That your brother would cease to exist. That your father would fail his business….” It was a victory from the start. You give Sohee a moment since it looks like she needs it. It’s understandably shocking. You were once in her position after all and just as surprised. But the realization seems to sink into her with the way her eyes widen. “I-I didn’t know this is what would happen!” “You wanted an escape from your life,” you say to her in excitement. There was one more benefit to this ordeal too — just as Taehyung has you, Sohee will become yours. “This is it, sweetheart.” If you didn’t know you would get such an endearing subordinate from all this, you wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of it all. But ‘subordinate’ and ‘underling’ are such unpleasant words Taehyung uses. Sohee’s more like a little puppy for you to love, mentor and show around. “Come with us.” You extend your hand, palm open to the sky. “We came all the way here for you.” Sohee looks at both you and him, brows furrowed, hesitation evident. “What will happen to me?” “You want to be like me, don’t you?” You smile at her along with Taehyung who remains patient. “I’ll take care of you and so will Taehyung. What else does this place have to offer you?” This is the true game of temptation. No one is ever forced into making a deal with the devil. It’s a choice. And one she takes. The girl lifts her arm, taking your hand. A bigger smile pulls on your features. And just like that, the three of you vanish together.

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prompromthepompom · 3 years

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Some Headcanons about Gods and Goddesses we don’t meet in Hades

I’ve been absolutely LOVING Hades, and I got to thinking about gods and goddesses we don’t see and the boons they’d offer or potential enemies or allies that also could be in the game.

Hera: Nyx probably heard that comment Zeus made about her and decided not to get Hera in on this for her own safety. BUT if Hera were offering boons, I imagine that they’d revolve around confusing or bewitching enemies. I could see for example a dash boon that when Zag dashes, a flurry of peacock feathers take his place and they daze enemies for a few seconds allowing him to get to cover. Alternatively a flurry of feathers that shoot out towards enemies as an attack boon.

Iris: When Nyx dialed Iris up on the godly cell phones, her reply was “There are no rainbows in the underworld Nyx, what do you want me to do?” If Iris could somehow reach Zag deep down in the Underworld, PLEASE let her give the railgun a giant rainbow laser beam of death and destruction. Just obliterate your enemies with rainbow laser beam. A cool zigzaggy rainbow that follows you as you dash around? Um yes please!

Hebe: The goddess of youth? She can turn enemies into babies. Congratulations the new looming threat is the responsibility of adulthood. No but seriously, her boons allow you to woobify enemies until they can’t do anything to you anymore.

Apollo: The god of light helps stun enemies. A bright flare to momentarily blind them so you can swoop in and strike or get away. He also provides nice advantages to your long-ranged weapons and attacks.

Hephaestus: He was so mad over you choosing Daedalus things over his that he refused to help and needed additional convincing. What does Hephaestus do? He sups up your weapons. You want a chainsaw sword? He will make your sword into a chain saw sword.

Hestia: The ONLY reason she hasn’t helped you is that someone needs to stay home on Mt. Olympus while everyone else runs around like idiots, there is one braincell in the collective god brain cell trust found- Hestia guards it. BUT when she can help you out, get ready for some fiery attacks. Imagine a boon that if you get an opponent on fire, they can’t put it out.

Eris: Oh man this could go so many ways. Since she’s the goddess of discord, her boons would definitely revolve around turning your enemies against each other – watch out Theseus and Asterius. But for a more chaotic element I feel like she’d be running the double god rooms and she’d either boost the boons you already have or replace them all and since she’s discord you don’t know what you’re going to get. It’s a gamble, do I risk upgrading everything I have and potentially get it all replaced? Either way, she’d definitely have a lot of duo boons with Ares.

Morpheus: Okay so what if Hades didn’t realize Hypnos and Morpheus are twins, and they use this to their advantage to tag team in and out. One of them is always reporting to Hades while the other gets some sleep? Either that or he provides boons that puts enemies to sleep or slows them down.

Also just on the topic of Nyx’ children there’s also Nemesis (wonder what she’s the goddess of), and then Apate (deceit) and Neikea (feuds) BUT there’s also Philotes the goddess of friendship. And I want Thanatos and Hypnos to talk about how all their siblings are cranky goths except for their one weird pastel preppy sister. “For some reason everyone kept asking if I was Persephone’s child when I was little” and Than in the background “That’s because of all the PINK!”

Hecate: let’s get the girl who witnessed the whole kidnapping of Persephone in on this. What if she has a bunch of cutesy stories to give to Zag about his mom. Also, I just want to give Zag that annoying ass spell the witch enemies use and I hate.

Plutus: my man, plz. Show up and make me rich. Pretty plz. Plutus makes it rain money from the sky, you now attack like Meowth and hurl money you can pick up at the end of a fight.

Calypso: Ogygia is one of the rest rooms you can duck into. Calypso is not very happy to help a god at first, but darn Zag is just so polite and nice she eventually warms up to him and explains how she’s trapped on this island and doomed to help whatever heroes show up. She offers gifts like Sisyphus for Zag to collect some health or resources to aid his journey. (Also asks if Zag can tell Odysseus to start paying child support)

Prometheus: also, in one of the rest rooms. Like Eurydice he offers to help improve the boons you have by imparting wisdom onto Zag. He probably also asks after Hestia to make sure she didn’t get into trouble for helping him with the whole giving humans fire thing.

Psyche: Alright we need couples in distress that need to get put back together. In Roman tellings of Psyche’s love with Eros/Cupid, she needs to deliver a package from the Goddess of Love to the Goddess of the Underworld. I can only imagine Zag stumbling upon her as she’s desperately trying to find her way in/out so she can be reunited with Eros (and stop having his mom be mad at her).

Penelope and Odysseus: speaking of couples that have been separated in the Underworld, what if Odysseus becomes a mentor, and just goes on and on and on about Penelope to Zag. So, Zag just looses his mind and gets so excited when he meets Penelope for the first time because he has ALL these stories about her.

Pan: the BIG BAD. I’m just saying there’s a crazy satyr cult. And Cerberus isn’t a pupper anymore he’s doggo. There are several mentions of a looming threat to the underworld. What if Pan’s about to wake back up and he’d going to go full Sun WuKong on the underworld? I don’t really know why he’d be mad at the underworld per se. But the crazy satyr cult made my brain go there.

Tartarus: alternatively, since the underworld is slowly falling apart, what if it’s because good old Tartarus is waking back up and Zag is going to have to stop him for the sake of his fam?

Some interesting minibosses that could be trying to stop Zag could be Deimos and Phobos, gods of terror and panic, who seem like the kind of guys Hades would employ.

If we run with the whole idea of demigods reconciling with the creatures they slayed. Can we get Perseus meeting Medusa and being like “sorry for the whole chopping your head off thing, I guess.” “Sorry you killed your granddad playing frisbee I GUESS”

Also, can we have father son reunions for Peleus and Achilles and Priam and Hector???

Last thing for now, can you imagine if there was a Minthe cameo?

“Oh hey there attempted homewrecker of my parent’s marriage, how’s it going?”

“Now THIS is a homewrecker Theseus! Please stop calling me one!”

#hades #hades game #zagreus #idk how to tag anything #HelpWith TaggingPLZ

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neoloves · 3 years

Text

— 𝐌𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝.

❛ About : Atsumu swears he loves his girlfriend, but why does his perspective changes whenever you're around? ❜

❛ Featuring : Atsumu Miya x Fem!Reader ❜

❛ Warning(s) : Kinda homewrecker vibes from Y/N but she's not doing it on purpose y'know, Atsumu has feelings for Y/N while having a gf..❜

❛ word.count : 626 ❜

❛ Ath.txt : I've been feeling super duper uninspired lately, but thankfully NCT is here to lift my spirits up 😩 also I didn't know how to end it so, sorry if the ending quite shit ❜

It started with frequent hang outs, and somehow you've started to act more of a girlfriend to Atsumu than his actual girlfriend. You were there for whenever his team lost or won, he keeps having to reassure his girlfriend that he only loves her. "Why can't you see that she's slowly taking over my place?!" She asked, this was a common question for the two. Why can't Atsumu see?

"Listen, Yuna.. Y/N's been by my side since high school, there's nothing going on between us," He sighed, running his hand through his hair, tired of the same argument. "If you're tired of having this issue, maybe you should stay away from her for a while," She said, turning her back away from Atsumu. "Really? Yer' gonna try and control who I hang out with now?" Atsumu asked, inching closer to her.

"Yes, yes I am Atsumu, it's me or her," She turned back around, giving him a piercing stare. Atsumu fights the urge to roll his eyes, he puts his hands up. "Fine, fine, I'll avo–" As if on cue, a doorbell rings. "Atsumu?" Your voice rang from the other side of the door. Yuna looks at Atsumu with a questioning look, Atsumu steps forward to answer the door. "What the actual fuck Atsumu," Yuna sighs, "Hey, your brother just wanted me to hand these to you, damn you don't look too nice, bad timing?" You asked, seeing his dishevelled hair.

"No, no it's fine, thanks Y/N," He said, in a clearly not okay tone, taking the plastic bag from your hands. He invites you in, "Take a seat, I'll go find Yuna," He said, walking towards their presumably shared bedroom, you take a look around their apartment. It was mostly neat and tidy, the walls painted grey with a few photos of Atsumu and her framed up. You heard footsteps coming from behind you, you see Yuna with an angered expression, she really hates you.

"What is she doing here?" She asks, pointing a finger at you. "I invited her in, she–" Yuna scoffs at Atsumu, "Yeah, you know what Atsumu, I really loved you. You–You just had to fuck it all up," She said, walking out of the apartment. You look at Atsumu, "Aren't you gonna chase after her?" You ask him, "No, there's no need to," He said.

The whole apartment stayed silent for at least two minutes before he sat beside you. "I'm the worst aren't I?" He asked, already knowing the answer. How could he like someone when he was already in a relationship, some douchebag he was. You placed a hand on his back, trying to soothe him. "You can't just leave it like this, if you really wanna break up with her, do it right," You said, Atsumu stares at your eyes. "Yer' right, I will.." He said, taking out his phone to text her a meeting place.

'Is it really the end?' Atsumu reads her reply, 'I'm sorry.' He texts back, 'I've known for a while now, I guess it's only you and Y/N who hasn't noticed..' She texts back in a second. 'I still wanna settle this,' Atsumu replies. Yuna doesn't text back for a couple of minutes, 'No need, I already knew the ending since the start. I really thought I would've been the one, I hope Y/N makes you happy Atsumu..' She texts for the last time, Atsumu stared at his phone for a while. Trying to process what just happened, "We broke up," he said, for some sick and twisted reason a heavy feeling has been lifted from his heart. He swore he hasn't felt this light since he met you, maybe that's what Yuna meant. It's always been you.

#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu Atsumu #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanon

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selenes-sun · 4 years

Text

Don’t Trust Sirius//

Harry Potter x Reader x Ginny Weasley

Word Count: 2.3k

Masterlist

A/N: So this one shot has been on my mind for such a long time, before I even posted my first one-shot on here and I finally got inspiration to write it so I hope you like it and remember that requests are open also Sirius, Remus, and Fred don’t die because I’m an emotionally attached hoe :D (sorry best gif I could find of them both and credits to whoever made it)

Key- (F/p)= Favorite Parent, (Y/n)= Your name

Warnings: Poly relationship (although I don’t really think that should be a warning)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a year after the war, some people were still recovering from battle wounds and others from the loss of their loved ones. She was still healing herself after losing some dear friends and her (F/p), others were dealing with losses of people dear to them too, such as lovers, and family.

When the war ended and everyone grieved and started to heal, they started meeting at the Weasley’s once a week for lunch, The Order, Harry, Hermione, and a few other people, all at the Weasley household. Hermione had left to hang out with the twins and probably to chastise Fred, who had been on a cane after the wall had fallen on him.

She was part of The Order and had gotten close to Sirius and Remus during that time, which led to where they were now.

“Sirius, you know I can’t tell them, I mean look at them, they look so happy together and I’m not trying to be a homewrecker,” She groaned into her palms as Sirius gave her a look after catching her staring at Ginny and Harry cuddling up on the couch again.

“(Y/n), you have to tell them I promise they love you too, I can see it in their eyes when they’re checking you out,” Sirius playfully nudged from beside her. She looked up from her palms and gave a small glare at Sirius before turning to Remus with a pleading look indicating to ask his boyfriend to leave her alone. Remus just sighed.

“I’m sorry (Y/n) but Sirius is right, for once”

“Hey!”

She shook her head again for what felt like the hundredth time. “I’m like 4 years older than them anyway, they probably don’t want someone that much older, they’re probably not even interested in having a triad,” she said, feeling like her voice was increasing in volume with every word.

“(Y/n)! Come on! Tell them or I will,” Sirius groaned getting exasperated with all her nonsense.

“Sirius don’t you dare! Or I’ll tell Remus what you did the other night!” She exclaimed

“Come on (Y/n) that’s not fair!” Sirius complained, looking over at Remus who was already looking at him with a look of suspicion. Sirius gave him a sheepish smile before turning back to her with a small glare.

“You have to promise me you won’t tell them anything, pinky promise me!” She said with an almost threatening look on her face. Sirius looked reluctant but gave her a nod and wrapped their pinkies together to show her that he promised.

After (Y/n) looked away he turned to Remus with a mischievous smile and Remus only shook his head, amused at the interaction between his boyfriend and a woman he saw almost like a daughter.

***

(Y/n) was walking back down to the kitchen when she crashed into the younger couple who seemed like they were in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Hey, Harry, Ginny, what are you two up to?” She said trying to hide her nervousness although she was sure she was blushing. Ginny seemed to break out of whatever trance they were both in and tried answering for the both of them.

“Um… we were just uh headed to- to the bedroom- yes! The bedroom, I wanted to show Harry something before we went down for dinner,” she said stumbling over her words and trying hard to hide her blush from someone she had been fawning over for some time. Harry, who had just broken out of his trance nodded quickly and Ginny quickly grabbed his arm before dragging him to their bedroom.

(Y/n) just looked at the couple in curiosity before giving a quick shrug to herself and continuing down to the kitchen to help Molly finish up dinner.

***

“Y’know we’ll have to tell her how we feel about her sometime in our lives,” Harry said, running his fingers through Ginny’s hair as they lay cuddled up in bed with her head resting on his chest. Ginny groaned and started blushing, hiding her face in her chest, probably remembering their earlier interaction in the hallway.

“Harry, I made a total fool out of myself, she probably doesn’t like us anyway and how do we even know if she likes younger people. What if she likes her partners older than her? Don’t forget the most important question either, what if she doesn’t want to be in a triad? What if that isn’t something that interests her?” Ginny ranted, her words slightly muffled since her face was still in his chest.

“Yes while those are reasonable questions, you need to stop thinking about the bad ‘what ifs’, think about it this way, what if she does like us? Or what if she doesn’t care if her partners are older or younger? Or if she is interested in a triad,” Harry said trying to reassure his girlfriend, and himself.

He started to feel her chest slow down and felt her slightly lift her head up to look at him before she fully calmed down. She lifted her head a bit higher and gave him a peck on the lips to reassure him that she was fine.

***

It was finally time for dinner and they were all sitting at the dinner table chatting happily amongst one another. They talked about anything and everything and then broke off and started talking in their little groups, amongst each other. People started finishing up and they started cleaning up after themselves.

Molly got up and started waving her wand stacking all the dishes and lifting them over the sink getting ready to clean up for the night.

“Here Molly let me help you with those,” (Y/n) offered, getting up from her seat, Molly quickly refused the help saying that as the host she should clean up dinner.

“(Y/n), actually, come here for a sec,” Sirius said waving her over, while she was having a small argument with Molly about helping her and whatnot, she looked over at him and back at Molly who was quick to shoo her away. She rolled her eyes and walked over to Sirius.

“What’s up?” She asked sitting back in her seat that had been across from his during dinner

“Can you go get Remus for me he said he was going to get his bag from the closet upstairs but he hasn’t come back yet,” he said, batting his eyelashes at her with a cheeky smile. She just chuckled, shook her head, and started heading upstairs.

Remus, however, hadn’t been upstairs at all, he went to get Harry and Ginny and tried leading them to the same place, however, with a much more believable excuse, he liked to believe that at least.

“Can you get my bag from the closet upstairs, I left something in there that I really need,” He said with a cheeky smile of his own, although probably not as cheeky as Sirius’.

“Uh sure, Moony, we’ll both go and see if we can find it quicker that way, Ginny?” he said holding out his arm for her, Ginny took his offered arm and they quickly went upstairs so they could get it over and done with.

Remus looked through the window to his boyfriend and saw him make eye contact before he gave him a small nod to tell him phase 1 of their plan had been completed.

Sirius turned away from his boyfriend and told Fred and George to do their part of the plan which was simple, really, push them into the closet and lock the door to the point that they couldn’t open it from the inside no matter what spell they used.

Now (Y/n) had gotten to the closet, when she couldn’t see Remus she didn’t have the chance to call out his name she saw Harry and Ginny approaching hand in hand, and her voice quickly got caught in her throat.

“Hey have you two seen Remus, Sirius told me that he was up here,” she said with a confused look on her face. Harry furrowed his eyebrows and Ginny gave her a look of confusion. Before they could respond they suddenly felt themselves falling into the said closet.

“(Y/n), you did tell me not to tell them anything, you even made me promise, so I’m not gonna say anything, you are,” they heard Sirius say with what might as well have been a cackle. (Y/n) glared at the door and turned back at the two who still had wide eyes and turned on the light switch in the closet. The only thing you could hear was footsteps walking away.

“So,” (Y/n) said with a nervous chuckle. “Are we just going to stare at each other the whole time or are we going to figure out how to get out of here.”

Those words seemed to do the trick because Harry and Ginny snapped out of their trance and looked at her then looked back at each other. They seemed to be having a silent conversation with their eyes and (Y/n) looked around the spacey closet that they had currently been stuck in.

“Well (Y/n), we actually wanted to talk to you about something,” Ginny said looking down at her hands that had been playing with Harry’s fingers to sort of calm her nerves. She looked at Harry expectantly and he took in a deep breath.

“(Y/n) we have liked you for a really long time but we didn’t want to tell you because we didn’t think you’d like us back,” Harry said all in one breath. (Y/n) almost didn’t catch it but when she repeated the sentence in her mind and she did a double-take. She froze and stared at them with wide eyes while they both had nervous smiles.

She almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing, a few hours ago she had been in doubt that they’d ever like someone like her and now because of Sirius stupid plan, which had brilliantly worked by the way, although she wasn’t going to admit that to him, both of the people that she loved were now confessing their own feelings for her.

Her face broke into a smile and Harry and Ginny didn’t know whether to be more nervous or relieved but that was quickly answered for them by (Y/n) herself.

“Wow, I can’t- I can’t say I was expecting that but I would like you two to know that I have liked the both of you for a really long time too, I just didn’t want to be a homewrecker or anything of the sorts,” she said, burying her hands in her face.

Harry quickly moved forward and cupped her chin, lifting her head from her palms, he gave her a gentle smile and she gave him a smaller one in return before she was pulled into a big hug by him and she could feel kisses at the top of her head.

Ginny suddenly moved closer to join the hug which she had been very welcomed to and they stayed there for a while before (Y/n) started giggling. They pulled back with fond smiles on their faces but confused looks in their eyes.

“This is why I don’t trust Sirius because he comes up with these dumb ideas that somehow always end up working,” she said. She suddenly looked up from her lap and her gaze met with Ginny’s lips. She looked into her eyes to find her already staring and she blushed and looked away. “Can I- can I kiss you?” she asked her quietly, gaining the inner strength to look back at her.

Ginny gave a quick nod and soon their lips met and their kiss was so passionate and it felt like butterflies were flying in her stomach, when she pulled away she saw Harry staring at them and she felt the urge to kiss him too. She made eye contact with him as if asking a silent question. When he gave her a nod she took her chance and soon her lips had met his in another passionate kiss which almost made her melt.

When she pulled away she had a dazed look in her eyes and Harry and Ginny looked the same, The both of them gave each other a quick peck on the lips and then looked at her again which made her blush in their gaze and look down at her lap.

“So what does this make us?” Harry asked with hopefulness in his eyes and in his tone.

“I was kind of hoping that this would make me your girlfriend,” (Y/n) stated with a shy tone in her voice before looking back up at them. They both gave her a nod and Harry asked her a question.

“Well, would you like to go on a date and see how it all works out?” He suggested. (Y/n) looked over at Ginny who gave her a reassuring smile before giving a quick nod which caused them all to chuckle.

They tried pulling her in for another kiss before the door suddenly opened and they saw Sirius standing outside the door with a big smile on his face and Remus shaking his head. “So how’d it go? I’m guessing well based on how close you are but I want you to tell me.”

“Well we have a date this next weekend and Remus I hope you don’t mind paying for the funeral,” (Y/n) said with a sickly sweet smile.

“Wait who died?” Sirius asked looking incredulous at her words.

“No one yet, but you will be soon,” she said getting up in a flash and chasing after Sirius who had already started running for his life. Harry, Ginny, and Remus all looked at each other before they burst out laughing at the both of them. One thing that was for certain though was that (Y/n) could not wait for her date with Ginny and Harry.

#Ginny Weasley x Reader #Harry Potter x Reader #Harry Potter x Ginny Weasley #Harry Potter x Reader x Ginny Weasley #Harry Potter fic #Harry Potter imagine #im not sorry #Wolfstar mentioned #fluff #polyamory #selenes-sun

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kats-baku1999 · 4 years

Text

Little Lies

Shoto Todoroki x fem! Reader

regular high school AU, no quirks, and shoto is an asshole. lots of angsty shit, going to be like a three parter, and yes there will be some dirty stuff 🤭

Todoroki’s life was looked at to be glamorous thanks to his father’s celebrity status, and thanks to their money. Really though, he felt like he had it all. His fourth year of high school was going to be a breeze, or so he thought.

————reader pov————

Ochako and I sat in her room listening to music as we prepared for school the next day. Summer holidays always seemed to go by way too fast for my liking but at the same time I was excited to get back to school. Get back to my normal life routine, and besides this was the last year before we all left for University.

“Do you think this will be the year Deku finally asks me to be his girlfriend?” Ochacko sighed as she laid out her outfit for the next day.

“I mean, no offense but I don’t think so,” I glanced up from my phone to see a look of sheer panic across her face, “it’s nothing against you, it’s just Deku isn’t like the guys he hangs out with.”

“I still can’t believe he and Bakugo are friends, they are polar opposites.” Ochako sighed, her and Bakugo had this weird competive thing about them. Something about how Ochako felt as thought Bakugo doubted her abilities. I couldn’t judge her though, I had the same thing with Todoroki.

“I can’t believe he willingly hangs out with Todoroki, he really isn’t worth being friends with.” I mumbled and Ochako let out a bit of a giggle.

Todoroki Shoto and I were anything but friends. His arrogant personality that shined through when cameras weren’t watching. He and Momo were UA highs “power couple” and probably some of the most hated and loved people there. Almost everyone idolized them, which made no sense to me.

My feud was mostly with Todoroki though, after all HE was the one who absolutely mortified me our first year of high school. Back then I was the new transfer girl, and like everyone else I was in awe of the “big three”... Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya, and Shoto Todoroki. They were top of our class and each of them were cute. It made sense to me as to why everyone did nothing but talk about them. The first time I talked to Todoroki though, he pretended to be nice to me just so Momo would get jealous. She then proceeded to belittle me in front of everyone.

That little mishap is how I became such close friends with Ochako, and Kirishima. Each of them did nothing but drool over both Bakugo and Midoriya though. Which I guess the two of them weren’t bad, it was just their friendship with Todoroki who did nothing but laugh while his girlfriend yelled at me. From then on out we usually did our best to avoid each other, meanwhile his girlfriend found every moment to call me a homewrecker.

“Speaking of Todoroki, did you hear about his break up with Momo?” Ochako looked at me, and I just shook my head, “I figured Kiri would have mentioned it, but yeah he caught her cheating with Sero from our fifth period class last year.”

I let out a loud laugh that soon turned into an all out laughing fit. So the girl who called me a homewrecker, wrecked her own home?

“I’m not saying he deserves it, but he definitely needed to be humbled a little bit.” I defended to Ochako who was giving me a look of disappointment.

“(Y/n) maybe he really isn’t that bad, you know Kirishima wants to start hanging out with them more because of Bakugo, so please try to be nice for both of our sakes,” Ochako’s voice was stern but her eyes were puppy dog eyes.

“Fine, but I won’t enjoy it.” I huffed and crossed my arms.

==========Todoroki pov==========

I stood at my locker putting all of my new essentials away, for some reason Touya believed I needed at least six notebooks for four classes.

“Hey, half and half!” I heard Bakugo yell and I turned around to look at him. He was walking down the hall holding hands with his new boyfriend, Kirishima. Kirishima was a cool dude, but he was also friends with that loud mouth (y/n). I guess she wasn’t so bad, she mostly had problems with Momo.

“I’ll talk to you later Katsuki.” Kirishima looked at me and smiled and then quickly walked down the hallway, probably going to look for his friend to tell her he saw the devil.

“So you and big red Huh?” I looked at Bakugo who smirked, looking down the hall at his boyfriend.

“He has a lot of big aspects, but that’s not the point,” Bakugo pointed over to Sero and Momo who were disgustingly close and making out against her locker, “When are we kicking that nerds ass?”

“We aren’t, I was bored of her anyway, I could get any other girl anyways.” I shrugged and went back to my locker.

“Any girl?” Bakugo laughed and I shot him a dirty look.

“Yes, you see the way they all practically melt for me, any girl.”

“Fine, I bet you 200 you can’t pull (y/n).” Bakugo chuckled and pointed down the hall to the girl who was now hugging Kirishima. Her (y/h/c) hair had grown out a bit over the holidays, and had a few miscellaneous braids throughout it right now. Even I had to admit she was looking.. good.

“What happened to her over the summer?” I looked at Bakugo and he just shrugged.

“(Y/n) has always been hot, but it’s like she just hit puberty again, Kirishima said she’s gained a lot of confidence too so you taking the bet?” Bakugo nudged me and I just rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, give me till winter holiday, and by then I’ll have her wrapped around my finger,” I laughed.

“Have who wrapped around your finger?” We both jumped when Izuku snuck up on us, and I just smiled at my best friend, knowing he wouldn’t approve of this little game.

“Nothing Izu, what happened man I didn’t hear from you all summer?” I changed the subject pretty quick, knowing that Izuku wouldn’t be a fan of the game that Bakugo and I were playing.

••••••••••••

By the time our lunch hour came around I was ready for the day to just be over with. There was no point in my first two classes of the day, they were all pretty basic stuff that I already knew. (Y/n) was in my first period though, and I couldn’t help but look at her throughout the class. She really had gotten prettier, more mature. I guess I never noticed how attractive her style really was because of Momo.

“Todoroki! Over here!” Izuku yelled and I looked to see him, bakugo, Kirishima, Ochako, and (y/n) all sitting at a table.

Perfect opportunity.

I took the seat right next to (y/n) and smiled at her while she gave me a look mixed with shock and annoyance.

“Hey guys, I didn’t realize you’d be joining us now?” I smiled politely and scooted a little closer to (y/n), she continued to just stare at me with a look of annoyance.

“Hi Todoroki! Bakugo invited all of us to sit with you guys, so he could see Kiri more.” The girl, Ochako, gushed. Izuku was super tense and looked like he was about to pass out. Probably thanks to his crush on her. The good thing about Ochako obviously liking him back was the fact she liked him way before he “built up”.. Everyone but Midoriya could see that. He always played it off that she was just being nice.

“Very nice, I guess this gives me the opportunity, hey (y/n) can I ask a favor?” I turned my head to look at her, and realized how close we actually were. She really was gorgeous.

“What?” Her answer was short, and she seemed slightly angry.

“Do you think you could help me out with Mr. Aizawa’s class this semester?” I said politely despite the obvious attitude in her voice.

“It’s the first day, how do you know I don’t suck at the class too?” (Y/n) was a bit snippy, but I just shrugged.

“You’ve always been so smart, I just figured you would have this down to a T, but if you don’t then that’s fine.” I put my hands up in defense.

(Y/n) stared at me for a second before looking across at Kirishima who was giving her a stern look. She let out a huff of air.

“Fine, I’ll help you when you need it, it is a hard class.” (Y/n) mumbled before she went back to picking at her food.

————————third person pov———————

things are about to get a bit hot and heavy... also time jump :)

(Y/n) and Todoroki had begun spending a lot of time together when it came to her helping him with their shared class. Even though Todoroki didn’t actually need help with the class. This was just his way to win that bet with Bakugo. Still though he found himself thinking about Momo less and less the more time he spent with (y/n). He had also grown to enjoy her laugh, when he could get her to laugh. She still was keeping her guard up with him. Tonight though, the two of them decided to hang out while the other four went on a double date. Midoriya had finally asked Ochako out, and that left Todoroki and (y/n) the only single ones in their new friend group.

“So tell me (y/n), if you had to choose anyone in our class to be with who would you choose?” Todoroki asked (y/n) and her cheeks instantly went red.

“Who said I even pay attention to anyone in our class?” (Y/n)‘s cheeks were practically steaming from how much they were burn. Of course she had been paying attention to someone, how could she not look at Todoroki? Things had been different over the past few weeks. They were almost friends, and (y/n) couldn’t help but find herself wondering if his half red and half white hair was as soft as it looked...

“(Y/n)?” Todoroki whispered as (y/n) subconsciously reached her hand up to touch the hair that hung down over his teal eye, the one that had the scar that everyone whispered about. Someone had once remarked that it was ugly, but even back then (y/n) couldn’t deny that it was beautiful on him.

“I- I’m sorry,” (y/n) pulled her hand away but Todoroki grabbed it and intertwined their fingers.

He began leaning into her, his face dangerously close to hers. His minty breath washed over her face and she found herself slightly beginning to panic.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Todoroki whispered but (y/n) shook her head, bringing her free hand to the side of his face that held his brown eye.

The two just sat and looked at each other for a moment before Todoroki finally closed the gap. (Y/n) was expecting him to be an expert at what he did but instead he seemed a little nervous. Their lips were clumsy against one another, and Todoroki just lightly touched (y/n)’s hip. It was as if he was scared of breaking her, as if he’s never done this before.

“Todoroki, are you okay?” (Y/n) pulled back and whispered against his lips.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Todoroki whispered and (y/n) nodded her head quickly, “I have never been intimate with someone, I’ve never-”

“No, no I haven’t either, I mean I made out with Kaminari at a party once but that’s about all I know,” (y/n) looked at Todoroki for a second before finally raising her eyebrow, “so you’re telling me that you never even made out with Momo?”

“No, her and I were really only just for show to please my father.” Todoroki admitted, and (y/n) felt a bit of shock wash over her.

“Do you want to stop?” (Y/n) whispered but was quickly answered with Todoroki’s lips against hers again. This time a little more heated, and this time not as gentle. Still just as clumsy but even more of a turn on for (y/n).

She quickly changed the position and climbed on his lap, grinding herself against the bulge in his pants. They both let out moans into the kiss, as (y/n) continued to grind herself against him. Eventually Todoroki found his way to kissing her neck, nipping at her every once in awhile causing her to let out another moan. Nervous hands travelled over each other’s body.

Todoroki found his way to the bottom of her skirt, before pulling it up slightly. (Y/n) felt her breath hitch as Todoroki found his way to the wet part of her panties, as he began rubbing against her sensitive nub through the thin cloth. (Y/n) let out a fit of whimpers and moans as she pushed herself even more into his fingers.

“Are you okay with this?” Todoroki whispered, slowly down his motions to pull her panties to the side.

“Yes, yes please don’t stop.” (Y/n) practically begged, and Todoroki complied to what she said. His fingers found their way to the sensitive nub again, only for a split second before they dipped down to her entrance. (Y/n) pushed against his fingers one more time before he finally slid them in. Todoroki let out a small moan at how soft she felt, as he imagined what other parts of him would feel like rubbing against her. He started off with small and soft movements, watching in awe as (y/n) leaned her head back in a fit of moans. She really was gorgeous to him. Todoroki began moving his fingers a little faster, watching as she began to crumble with each motion.

“Shoto, please I-”

“Let go (y/n), let it all out.” Todoroki mumbled as she pulled him into another kiss. His fingers began pumping faster inside of her as she practically began to scream against his lips. Todoroki groaned at the friction that began to be caused by her hips bucking against his buldge.

“Hey you guy- HOLY FUCK!” Bakugo yelled causing the two to break apart immediately. (Y/n) turned her head to see Bakugo, Kirishima, Midoriya, and Ochako all standing in the door way. Kirishima was laughing his ass off at Bakugo who seemed like he was about to cry. Both Ochako and Midoriya seemed to be embarrassed.

“So this is what studying means?” Kirishima laughed even louder at his friend who’s face was bright red as she scrambled off the very annoyed looking boy. Todoroki threw a book at all of them.

“All of you, out, now!” He snapped and they all stepped out of the room with their hands up in defense.

“Oh my- I have to move schools now, hell I should probably just move countries, fuck-”

“(Y/n) breathe, it’s okay, we are okay now, I’m sorry I should have never-”

“No what we did was okay, I Uh, I liked it-” (y/n) looked at Todoroki with hopeful eyes, that made her look entirely too innocent for his liking. He stepped closer to her and pulled her into another kiss, this one soft and gentle.

“I liked it too.” Todoroki whispered against her lips.

••••••••••••

that’s it for part one !! i will be updating this story within the next few days. thanks you guys ♥️

#bnha bakugou #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #dabi is a todoroki #todoroki smut #bnha ejirou #bnha eijiro kirishima #bnha smut #bnha imagine #bnha headcanons

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inlovewithbuddyaurinko · 3 years

Text

Vesbud First Meeting

“Aurinko. You’ve got something of mine. I’d like it back. How about you toss it here and we forget this ever happened, besides, didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to steal from the less fortunate?.”

Everyone knows and loves a meet-cute, but our favorite space lesbian moms had a meet-violent. For femslash February, an elaboration of the scene described in Vespa’s wedding vows with some of the author's artistic license thrown in.

co-written with @chobiwolf

It had been a rough day for Vespa after a rough couple years. She’d managed to get a good steal in and had enough of a score in her pocket to drink the next two nights away without any concerns. It beat the previous few months of staying out of the way of any law authorities, it definitely beat being thrown in prison, only to be released by that...she shook her head, she couldn’t get caught up in dreaming about that near-magical laugh that would creep into the corners of her mind at any moment she wasn’t otherwise occupied.

The bar was nice, nicer than Vespa had any right to, but it was the only place that had a transport lift and at the moment, Vespa was out of any mode of transportation sturdier than a hijacked hovercycle. The number of people packed into the room, the walls practically shaking with the beat of the music being blasted over the hidden speakers hid the gangly woman easily out of the way in a corner to avoid judgemental glares of patrons dripping in the finest of venusian silks and velvets.

Buddy Aurinko thought she'd find her mark here, or a drink at the very least. Even though it had been years since the prison break, Buddy spotted her the moment she walked into the bar. Vespa Ilkay looked the same. It was like years of crime and a hard life hadn't done a thing to knock her down. This was a whipcord of a woman with a shock of razor cut green hair. She may have been huddled over a drink but she radiated fierceness. That quality was exactly what Buddy was here for. That... or a large sum of money and a drink with a cute girl. This was really win-win for her.

She slid into the seat beside Vespa, a drink in hand already. "Can I buy your next round, darling?"

Vespa jumped, face heating up when she realized that someone had managed to sneak up from behind, her hand going to a knife at her side before she laid eyes on the most beautiful woman in the whole damn galaxy. That same woman placed a tentative hand on the arm that had started to shift back to what was, undoubtedly, a knife.

“Oh uh, you don’t have to do that, I can pay my own way even if I don’t look like it.” was the stuttered reply, flicking her eyes over the frankly impressive form sitting next to her. “But I wouldn’t be opposed if you were to join me?”

"No, no, I won't hear of it, and I never repeat myself so don't make me ask again." Her demeanor was not overly friendly. But she angled herself towards the woman in a way that put their shoulders close enough to feel the heat coming off of eachother. "Why, I'm of the opinion that a dashing woman such as yourself should never have to buy herself a drink again." With her smile and the near panic in Vespa’s eyes, Buddy realized she would have to try and smooth things over quickly to prevent a bolt from the bar.

"So what do you say to one round? Your drink looks a bit more like salad than alcohol and I happen to know a few good options around here." She did a once over of the bar seemingly opening herself to a blindspot and making her appear a bit more genuine, though most of what she said was exactly the truth. Oh the trouble she could cause with this one… "Bartender!" A grizzled person who looked like they had less compassion than a swarm of rangian mosquitoes took her order, "Yes, and two of those please, one extra strong for the lucky lady. Oh, and in case it’s not clear: mine should be the strong one since I do seem to be a very lucky lady." She winked at Vespa.

Vespa should’ve kept a higher guard up. She shouldn’t have so readily allowed this woman to completely disarm her, but boy, this woman, this woman was the prettiest, fastest talking, most vivacious human she had never seen. The blush never quite left her face.

"So what brings you to this fine establishment?” Buddy gestured a bit vaguely to their surroundings.

Vespa’s hand didn’t quite leave her knife, but her shoulders lost the tension that had been carried there since she first sat down hours ago. She wouldn’t consider herself one for romance, but this woman....this woman could convince her that maybe a little wouldn’t be too bad. She’d never gotten a drink bought for herself before, and stared with eyes wide in surprise. “Uh just, you know, a place to hang around. What about you? You look like you belong here more than I do. Like I should be watching you in a stream, not, not have you next to me here.”

A bright laugh bubbled out of Buddy. She had never been a stranger to compliments, but she turned quickly to grab their drinks as a distraction from the slight heat she felt flush in her cheeks.

"Here we are! And who knows maybe I am on some stream somewhere," she smiled knowing it was likely Neptune's most wanted or something to that effect, "but I've certainly found this place just as cozy as you have.” The bar was probably the opposite of cozy, it would be listed in the dictionary with the word ostentatious.

“Perhaps even more so since there definitely wasn't a pretty girl at the bar when you came in." She put on a bit of drama, "Oh my, unless there was! Look at me: I've known you for 10 minutes and already a homewrecker. The shame of it! Well, I say shame but I can't actually find a single iota of it in me. So tell me, are you, in fact, here with someone, darling?" She paused to take in Vespa desperately trying to keep up with her manic speech. Buddy sipped from her drink to keep herself from talking more. Maybe she was a bit more nervous than normal. Marks weren't normally this— well this adorable, this dashing, this capable! That last one she was about to test.

Vespa cleared her throat, voice suddenly raspy with nerves. “No. Uh, no, just, just me here.” This woman really did talk a lot and her own head was slightly spinning. “I think I prefer the seat occupied by you instead of it being empty.” She attempted to flirt, cringing slightly at herself at how awkward it sounded. “Uh, Sorry, I didn’t catch your name. It’s gotta be as pretty as you?”

Buddy flashed a smile at her, wide and genuine at Vespa's incredibly honest way of flirting. "The name's Buddy," here she leaned in close and whispered, "and since you aren't here with anyone at the moment, would you like to be, miss…?" she trailed off hoping the other would also supply her name. By now the two of them had slid much closer and the hand she originally had on her knife arm had moved up to the woman’s far shoulder.

“Ilkay.” Vespa blurted out, cheeks tinged a deeper pink still. “Vespa Ilkay. Nice to meet you Buddy.” Her skin was covered in pinpricks where Buddy’s arm was around her, like every single nerve was standing on their head. She felt hot and hoped that she didn’t seem as nervous as she felt. Buddy was leaning in so close that it was like there were only two of them in the whole world.

"Vespa Ilkay…" Buddy knew that name, and she knew ultimately why she had come to 'run into' her, and yet here, face to face, she felt a nagging almost-girlhood crush from her 'tag along with dad to work days'. None-the-less the words slipped off her tongue like silk and she found her drink abandoned as she focused on the woman's face. All harsh, strong edges, and softening honest blush. Hair knocked loose from its gelled, spiked style by the constant shaking head and flustered denial of compliments.

She just couldn’t help herself, what was a little more distraction for one night after all? She brushed Vespa's hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. Her other hand had come to rest comfortably at the middle of Vespa's back now, trailing lazy circles with her thumbnail. "Why, darling you look positively feverish!" For emphasis she put the back of her hand on Vespa's forehead, "Hm, well I'm no doctor, but maybe another drink would cool you down? Or… maybe you want to get out of this place with me? I could show you an exciting time to be sure.”

Vespa would have passed out right then and there, Buddy's voice like a purr in her ears. She could’ve died and been perfectly happy. The hand on her back felt like it was shooting electric currents into her spine. The only way to make sure she didn’t melt into more of a mess was by running through in her head all the most easily breakable bones in the human body. She ran a hand through her hair, unable to imagine that this was real, it must be impossible, she had to be dreaming.

“I’m fine, I’ll just need a moment.” She straightened up her back, going-anywhere with Buddy sounded amazing. But no, she couldn’t. That was too much. “I’ll get out of here eventually.”

Buddy leaned back and the previous closeness had her wearing quite a dark flush herself. She felt the heat in her face and rather hoped it didn't clash with her hair. A ridiculous thought, one that made it clear that she was flustered herself, though she'd never admit it. She reeled herself in. She was a bit dismayed the rest of her night would not be spent with a companion, but the evening was not a total loss: there still was the money she was here to steal, now, there was just the matter of actually taking it.

Buddy breathed in and looked around trying to feign a bit of embarrassment, eyes cast down with a demure flutter of eyelashes. "I hope you'll forgive me for being so forward. It's not often I come across a lady like you." She looked up, making purposeful eye contact with a visibly flustered Vespa.

"Miss Vespa Ilkay, I do hope we see each other again." She leaned so far forward she saw the panic from the other that this was a kiss. It was not. Her lips brushed the other woman's cheek and she whispered, "Sooner rather than later if you can." She did then press a chaste kiss to Vespa's jawline as she slid out of her seat leaving a hint of brilliant red in her wake. The close contact made it easy to slip the card from Vespa's pocket into her own hand. She stood up fully and cleared her throat. "I do believe I may need to go to the powder room though, so... dear?" She turned Vespa's face to her own delicately, "Do take care of yourself."

Buddy went to the restroom of the bar that she knew had a broken window and a solid escape plan. She had left behind merely one thing besides the lipstick on Vespa's face. One thing in the form of a note written on a napkin. It would probably take Vespa a while to notice it if she noticed it at all. But it read as follows:

Wonderful doing business, darling. Sorry those drinks ended up being so expensive for you. But I did not lie to you, I do want to see you again…. If you can catch me.

--Buddy Aurinko

Vespa Ilkay was love struck. There was no other way to put it. She sat with her drink in her hands, once again staring down at the countertop, but this time, with a fond little smile on her face.

She was convinced that never before had anyone captured any heart so quickly as Buddy had wormed her way into her brain. There wasn’t anything more Vespa wanted than to drag her off to that damn washroom she said she was headed and kiss their brains out against the door, an activity she hadn’t felt motivated to do with anyone before. She looked down at her hand where it had dabbed at the mark on her cheek, a perfect mirror of Buddy’s lips in the palm of her hand. The red lipstick seemed to glow against her own skin.

20 minutes later and the bartender was glaring at her and making snarky comments about buy another or get the fuck out.

Vespa wasn’t particularly looking forward to going to find some dark corner to fall asleep in, but if it had to be done it had to be done. She reached into her pocket for her score to pay for all her drinks and she froze. It was gone. All of it. All that was left was a damn note. She cursed aloud. Scanning over the note, she then cursed her dumb heart for stupidly skipping a beat, dammit, even Buddy’s damn handwriting was gorgeous. Thankfully, there were just enough creds to pay for both their fucking drinks stuffed into her boot she could use. It now meant though that she would have no safety net if something were to go wrong, or even another way off the planet.

She stormed out of the bar, figuring that damn woman couldn’t have gotten far. She went towards the more crowded, better lit part of town. Aurinko clearly knew what she was doing. And someone as fabulous as her could blend in among a crowd more easily than in the dark and shadows. Finally, after what felt like forever of running, she spotted a shock of bright red hair at the opposite end of the street and started to push people out of her way as she was running towards her.

Meanwhile, Buddy slipped through the crowds like a fish through water. She flipped the card a few times in her hands before pocketing it in a holster on her thigh. Sure she turned a few heads here and there but she knew how to disappear when she wanted. Right now she was a bit careless though, having just wooed a pretty lady and gotten the score of the decade, and with barely any work on her part.

Suddenly, she heard a disturbance behind her and glanced back to see that same vivid green hair poke out through the crowd as Vespa not so much ran as plowed her way through the crowd. Buddy smirked, my this one did catch on fast didn't she? Buddy broke into a sprint and rounded a corner into an abandoned alleyway. She only stopped there briefly to remove her heels to make her tracks harder to follow as she crossed through to another backstreet.

The alley Buddy disappeared down of course connected to another side street that Vespa cursed out everyone who had ever worked on it from their first to last breaths of their lives. Her thick boots kept her from completely falling over as she made the sharp turns necessary and though she lost easy sight of the red hair that she had before, she managed to spy it again part way down the next street. “AURINKO!” She shouted off after Buddy, heads turning to look at what the commotion was. A sober Vespa would not have brought so much attention to herself, or to her target. A sober Vespa could slide between people and shadows with not so much as a whisper of clothing brushing against each other. Knives could disappear into backs before the glint of steel was seen, bodies would hit the floor, dead from poison before taste was processed by the tongue. But now, Vespa Ilkay was on a manhunt, willing to slash and burn in a fight against Buddy Aurinko. So,it was normally not a very good thing to draw attention to oneself if you were trying to stay unnoticed, but she wasn’t letting her get away with her score and only way off this miserable planet.

Buddy smiled to herself as she turned another sharp corner into an alley that would take her up a side fire escape and up out of Vespa's reach. But when she got there the stairs were out of sight. A quick glance around showed her their charred remains clinging half-heartedly to the building's side above her. She heard Vespa yell her name and knew she had no time to escape.

“Shit."

Profanity did not become her and she certainly would refrain more were she in anyone's company, but as it was she had no one around to hear her… Thank goodness for that. Though that would not be the case soon. She didn't have a blaster on her and she really would rather not use that on Vespa anyway, so she drew her knife from one of her many thigh holsters and readied herself for a fight.

Turning the corner, Vespa skidded to a stop, knife drawn already and barely caught herself from falling over from the sudden cease of movement when she saw Buddy trapped there at the end of the alley. She grinned, the expression dark and proud, teeth looking more like razors. This was a woman who had fought through blood and liked it.

“Aurinko. You’ve got something of mine. I’d like it back. How about you toss it here and we forget this ever happened.” Buddy looked to be illuminated from the shaft of light spilling over the buildings around her, making her hair look like flames. She still looked strong and steadfast, Vespa knew that this fight wouldn’t be as easy as it may have appeared to be, and only one of them would be walking out of that alley. And Vespa was willing to place money that it was going to be herself.

"I'm afraid that won't be happening today, darling." Buddy flashed a grin of her own, winsome and daring. She took the opportunity then to throw her heels at the woman who not only held an impressive dagger but was glaring them at her as well. Vespa rushed at her. Despite the small space, Buddy was able to parry and roll to her left, deftly avoiding the attack. This was certainly the most fun she had had in years.

The heels were certainly a clever ruse, but Vespa ducked them, internally tsk-ing that they were going to get scratched, Buddy didn’t seem like the kind of person to do that to her clothes, not that Vespa cared, of course.

The run at Buddy still left Vespa with her back to the entrance, she wasn’t born yesterday of course. But she couldn’t help but admire how cleanly Buddy dodged her knife. Nothing that could be considered aggressive was being done yet, they were still circling, feeling the other out.

“Those are my creds, not yours.Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to steal from the less fortunate?” She made another quick swipe at Buddy’s bust line which forced her to take a hop back, though still with plenty of room between them.

Buddy laughed breathlessly at the exhilaration of their fight. They were both so evenly matched that it was more dance than confrontation. She hadn’t felt like this since the day she ruined her fathers prison, just because she could. The day she had first seen Vespa Ilkay.

In her distraction, Vespa got the drop on Buddy and tackled her. Getting the wind knocked out of her chest stunned Buddy enough that when she regained her concentration a split second later, Vespa’s very sharp blade was at her throat, and she felt a small trickle of blood run down the nape of her neck. She still had a hand on her own knife though, and she angled the blade up towards the woman on top of her. She couldn't help but start laughing again, breathless, overtaken, and evenly matched. She looked into the woman’s eyes above her as she tapped the blade to her abdomen.

Vespa was about ready to drive the knife through her, not enough to kill her, someone so beautiful didn’t deserve that. But it was just so she could take her creds and go, but that laugh. It floored her.

She knew that laugh. That was the laugh that saved her. The fiery shock of red hair she only managed to get a glimpse of when she ran.

The starstruck woman didn’t even notice the knife running along her side, a dangerous position she would never allow anyone to get her into in any other situation. The thin blade lightly skimming over her shirt next to her skin sent shivers down her spine. Just, Buddy’s eyes. They were like pools she could get lost in.

It was the most unattractive, ungraceful thing that. Just-just staring down at the woman beneath her, mouth agape. “You-you were the one at the prison. You saved me.” Vespa collapsed one side to roll off of Buddy, still staring at her in shock, unable to process what just happened.

Buddy breathed a sigh of relief as Vespa rolled off of her, and they both lay there on the dusty ground of the alleyway, staring at an alien sky.

“I suppose I was, and I did.” Her voice was nostalgic and drawn out.

She pulled the card with Vespa’s score stored in it from her hoster and held it up above them, an outlined rectangle dangling from elegant fingers standing out against the artificial atmosphere, “Well, we seem to be doing all right for ourselves solo, but don’t you think we’d be better as a pair?” She smirked. Buddy turned her head to face the other woman and smiled at her, no wit, no false charm, but completely genuine and a little vulnerable.

Vespa’s heart still sounded like it was beating in her ears, dazed. Her eyes flitted to the card held in the air above them. She could just reach out and take it, but she didn’t want to, it was like it would break the dream she was in. A minute passed, no sound was heard but their still heavy breathing and the faint sounds of people talking, a car driving by, the headlights casting shadows down the alley. “So?” Buddy asked again, “How about that offer to get out of this boring old dump with me?”

Vespa squeezed her eyes shut, making sure she wasn’t dreaming for the second time that night when her brain caught up to her ears. “Yeah. Yeah that sounds— that sounds great.” Vespa’s eyes opened and she turned her head to look back at Buddy. Somehow, Buddy looked even more radiant than before. Just so hopeful and full of life, like with her, the two of them had the entire universe at their fingertips. “I think a partner in crime could be good.”

#tpp #the penumbra podcast #the penumbra fanfic #vesbud #vespa ilkay #buddy aurinko #season 3 spoilers #based off of vespa's wedding vows in what lies beyond part 1 #look #they're gay #precanon

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