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honeymoonjin · 3 years

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.9k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: cursing, panic attack

A/N: apologies for my tgm crimes here but i gotta keep you on your toes since you have the old plan. also i'm not going to spoil anything but day 25 has one of my fav scenes in the show so far ;;-; so please enjoy this chapter and i will continue to work hard to finish the following one and get back into the posting routine!

DAY TWENTY-FOUR

You’re roused from sleep by the feathered sensation of fingertips on your jaw. Twitching slightly, you try and move away from it, burrowing deeper into the warm, gently rocking pillow your head is propped up on.

Before you can slip back under, however, the fingers give one last attack: a sudden flick to your cheek that echoes with a thwack. You flinch and furrow your brows, grumbling your displeasure since your words haven’t quite found you yet.

“Get up, sleepyhead, unless you’d rather I just piss in the bed.”

That’ll do it. You shoot up so quickly your vision swims, one side of your face feeling cold without the comfort of Yoongi’s chest. “Fuck you, go pee,” you slur, eyes still half-closed, the morning glare peeking through a gap in his curtains.

Yoongi happily but hurriedly trots off to the bathroom, giving you a moment of respite to collect yourself. It takes a few moments to recall the previous night, not just the way Yoongi’s voice had made you cum in your room, but also the way it later lulled you to sleep as he told you hushed stories of his childhood or anecdotes from his days as a sex education teacher.

You can even hear his voice now, just barely slipping under the crack of the door, humming and singing under his breath as he washes his hands.

When he finally exits, you’re propped up by pillows, duvet tucked over your knees and eyes crinkled fondly at his bedhead.

“Oh, no,” he starts with a frown, “you better get that look off of your face.”

Your smile drops. “What?”

Taming his hair with a few flat strokes, he shakes his head. “I need somebody sane in this house to talk to. You aren’t allowed to fall in love with me, it’s conflict of interest.”

Mouth dropping open, it takes you a few minutes to note the subtle curl to his lips. “You dick! I’m certainly not planning on it, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Hey,” he defends in a drawl, no attempt at modesty as he shucks his pyjamas before browsing his chest of drawers, “it’s been done before. You come for the massive dick and stay for the massive heart.” He pauses, shoulder muscles flexing as he reaches in to a drawer, pulling out a pair of dark wash jeans. “Stop looking at my ass, I’m trying to lecture you.”

On the contrary, you lower your gaze and narrow in on it. “You’re starting to develop a little bubble butt, Yoongi. It’s very cute.” Not leaving him time to protest, you barrel on. “Besides, your dick isn’t that big.”

“That’s only because you’re comparing mine to hyung’s. And Namjoon’s. And… And Jungkook’s, I guess. And-” Suddenly he cuts himself off, throwing himself back on the bed with his back hunched in despair. “Fuck, do I have a small dick?”

“Mm, not really,” you dismiss easily, deciding to finally get out of bed and pick out your own clothes - selecting them from Yoongi’s drawers, of course. He makes no protest, still staring blankly at the jeans in his hands. “You just have steep competition here. There’s nothing wrong with small dicks, either. They’re cute.”

Now visible from your angle, Yoongi’s face twists in a grimace. “But my dick isn’t small, right?”

You shrug, slipping on one of his FG shirts and a pair of sweatpants loose enough that you have to knot the drawstrings. “If it helps you sleep at night.”

He spares one somber glance down between his legs before he slips on a pair of underwear, finally stepping into the jeans. There’s a brief period of comfortable silence, before he lets out a small sigh. “Can I… Can I confess something to you?”

Although a quip would be easy enough to say, you sense the joking is over. “Of course, Yoongi,” you assure instead, sitting cross-legged on the unmade bed beside him. He doesn’t meet your eye, busying himself with slipping a shirt over his head. “What’s up?”

Once he’s fully dressed, he still keeps his eyes low. “When you- On Monday, when you voted out Jin-hyung. I was so glad.”

You pause for a moment. “Because you wanted him out of the competition?” you venture, but he shakes his head dully.

“Because I thought he might look at me again if he didn’t have you.”

Something sinks in your stomach, cold enough to make you shiver. The guilt in Yoongi’s voice doesn’t conceal the open vulnerability of his expression as he fiddles with his bitten fingernails. “What do you mean, Yoongi?”

“What him and I had earlier wasn’t healthy, I know that,” he defends to himself, “but… I still miss it. I miss him. But even when I spoke to him after the elimination, all he would talk about was you. And I can’t even be mad, because I get it. And I- If I’m honest,” he murmurs, feet scuffing restlessly on the carpet, “I don’t even know what I’m wanting to achieve by telling you this, but I couldn’t stand not having anybody know about it. I never wanted it to get this messy. I told myself I wouldn’t let my feelings get caught up. But I think a little heartbreak would be worth it, for him. Is that stupid?”

You feel so unanchored, like there’s nothing for you to grab onto to steady yourself. More so, you feel entirely incapable of helping your friend like you so desperately want to. “It’s not stupid,” you begin, reaching out to cup one of his hands snugly between the two of yours, head resting on his shoulder in solidarity, “and I’m so sorry. Does he- does he know you feel this way?”

“I don’t think so,” Yoongi admits in a low voice, leaning into your touch. “If he does, then he must not like me since he’s not acknowledging it. And if he doesn’t, then he must have never even considered me like that. I know I was a distraction at best.”

You knit your brows together, deep in thought to try and find the right words to say. “Or perhaps he knows and he’s respecting your boundaries by letting you initiate, especially since he was the one who took advantage of you last time. And perhaps he doesn’t know, and it’s only because he’s so caught up in his own feelings that he hasn’t considered that you may feel the same. You just don’t know these things, Yoongi. I didn’t know how you felt either until you told me.”

He nods slowly, jerkily. “Yeah,” he says weakly. “Jungkook said almost the exact same thing, actually.”

You pull back slowly, curiosity colouring your tone. “Jungkook?”

Yoongi manages a shy smile, cheeks colouring slightly. “He approached me. We- we talk a lot, way more than hyung and I ever did. I know Kookie has a crush on me, and we said we’d take things slow, but dammit, I can’t help but like the kid.”

You let a surprised laugh bubble up your throat. “That- I was not expecting that, but I’m so glad, Yoongi. Even if you don’t have Jin, I’m glad you’re letting yourself be happy with others.”

His smile falters. “Is it greedy that liking Jungkook doesn’t make me want Jin-hyung any less?”

You go still, thinking of your own blooming feelings for... Well, for most of the people in this house, if not - at least a little bit - all of them. “I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I’d like to think not.”

Yoongi lifts his gaze to you, carefully studying your face. “Do you ever worry,” he begins, so softly that you have to strain to make the words out, “that our feelings have been set up. By the show, I mean.” His brows furrow deeper. “We’re living in a practical paradise - luxurious house with no real jobs, our food is paid for, we’re literally getting rewarded to have sex. It’s so artificial, you know? So who’s to say that our feelings are artificial, too? I- I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” he admits with a pensive stare.

You can’t lie. You nod. “I’d like to think not,” you repeat hollowly, “but… I mean, yeah, this feels like some alternate reality, and thinking of any of you in normal, mundane, real-life scenarios seems so strange. Like, can you picture Hoseok sitting down and doing his taxes?”

Yoongi snorts, shaking his head in bemusement as a line of tension eases from his shoulders. “I hope he hires an accountant. I certainly wouldn’t trust him with my money.”

You let out a deep sigh and fall backwards onto the duvet, air punched out of you on impact. “The thing is, Yoongi,” you declare in a matter-of-fact tone, “we have no way of knowing what life will be like once all this is wrapped up so why even bother worrying?”

He turns slightly, just enough to watch you warily over his shoulder. “Maybe because I could get my heart broken?”

You pout at him. “Tell me how that’s any different from developing a crush in real life?”

He opens his mouth, furrows his brows, and closes it again. “I- Ugh. Fuck you for being correct.”

Pleased with yourself, you hide your grin as you playfully knock his side with your foot, making him recoil with a groan. “Be as cautious or as impulsive as you want, but even if all this is fake, you could’ve just as easily developed those feelings outside of the show. Like come on, if you saw Jin in the grocery store don’t tell me you wouldn’t fall in love on sight!”

Yoongi shakes his head again, a wry smile playing at his lips. “I see your point… and now I’m picturing Jin getting groceries and looking hot doing it...wow.”

You cackle at the dazed look on Yoongi’s face, using his arm to pull yourself up off the bed, patting him on the shoulder. “Good talk, champ. I’m off to chow down on the leftover pork from last night. Care to join me?”

His eyes glitter, but the doctor declines. “Yoonji said she blackmailed one of the production team to bring her fried chicken from her favourite place. She’s hiding it in the bunk room, but you didn’t hear that from me. She’s selling some to me for a small fortune, the little devil.”

“Less than half a week here and she’s already set up a black market,” you muse, “I think I may be in love with her, Yoongi.”

“Don’t you dare.”

While the kitchen is empty when you first arrive, it only takes the sizzle of pork belly in a saucepan to draw your roommates down.

Jin is first, silently rummaging in the pantry and fridge for some side dishes to add to the mix. In return, you begin boiling some hot water, adding instant coffee mix to two mugs.

As the others join, the line of mugs and glasses on the kitchen island grows, until even the two Min twins are hovering in the kitchen, looking suspicously still hungry after their illicit breakfast.

There aren’t enough chairs at the table to seat you all, but luckily Taehyung and Jungkook are happy hunched over the bench in the kitchen, sharing a set of Airpods and snickering at a seemingly endless stream of TikToks.

At the table, Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi chow down on their meals, the latter with a considerably smaller portion made up mostly of meat. Yoonji and Jimin are on either side of you, with Jin on one end, chewing slow to savour each bite.

It’s the first time in a while that you’ve all shared breakfast at the same time, and you’re struck with a deep feeling of fondness at this little family-like group you’re living with. Jimin sneaks extra strips of meat or spoonfuls of rice into your bowl when he thinks you’re not looking; Hoseok listens enthusiastically to Namjoon’s explanation of a summer school course he’s taking, even as he has to ask for clarification just about every second sentence; Yoongi splits his time between checking up on the two maknaes with a soft look, and scowling at his sister’s teasing comments.

“Any plans for the day?” Yoonji asks suddenly, tugging you out of your musings. She’s dressed sleekly in a black velvet mock neck shirt and high waisted denim shorts, her face as stark a resemblance to her brother as ever, with two sharp lines of black on her lids being the only visible makeup. “Except, I suppose, the mandatory fucking.”

You huff with pink cheeks, never growing used to hearing it so openly. “The days kinda blur together a little when you have no real responsibilities,” you admit, “I should probably find a hobby or something.”

Yoonji’s eyes crinkle in faux empathy. “Oh, honey, you’re gonna be so out of it when you return to the real world. You all will,” she adds, before shrugging, “except maybe Namjoon. Seems like academia doesn’t stop for anyone.”

You can’t help but agree. “He has more brain cells in his pinky finger than I do in my own body,” you swear, “he could break an arm and still type a thesis one-handed.”

Halfway through a mouthful of food, you’re rewarded to the ungraceful yet endlessly endearing sound of her snorting, a hand cupped over her mouth. After swallowing, she turns towards you to respond. “I haven’t known him for long, but that seems to check out. He’s quite the character, huh?”

You don’t miss the meaningful lilt to her voice, nor the quirk of a sharp brow. “He’s a good guy,” you reply under your breath, gaze darting down the table to where the man himself is engaged in an intensely enthusiastic discussion (okay, closer to a TedTalk) with Hoseok, now using pieces of meat to create an abstract diagram in his otherwise empty bowl. The latter looks bewildered, but is nonetheless paying deep attention to every word.

It’s impossible not to feel soft inside as you look at the pair of them, all complementary contrast. Hoseok with his slender nose and harsh facial structure and Namjoon with a round, gentle face. One of them dressed in sleek black and the other in oversized earth tones, the typically reserved one animated and the bubbly one focused in. It had taken you barely a month of shared living to become completely fond of these men, not just Namjoon and Hoseok but all of them, and as much as it was nice to have someone new in the Villa for a while, Yoonji’s presence makes you more aware of the fact that you and the seven guys had developed a certain equilibrium that seemed slightly off-balance with the change.

It makes you worry about what other disturbances this delicate system could hold, and if returning to the real world would be a shift large enough to permanently upend it.

Wishing to dispel the pessimistic narrative beginning to form, you focus in on Yoonji again. “Anyways,” you start, “how are you finding the Villa so far?”

“Certainly an interesting look behind the veil, though it’s really not ideal having to-” Yoonji’s cut off by the chirp of an incoming message on her phone. “Sorry, one sec,” she mumbles absentmindedly, but you don’t miss the way her face falls when she reads the message, immediately glancing directly across the table to where her brother sits.

To your growing concern, Yoongi is also reading a message on his phone, and he quietly excuses himself from the table, leaving his bowl half-eaten. He jerks his head towards the front door, and Yoonji manages a quick apology before they’re leaving the room.

All startled out of their separate conversations, the remaining members of the household sit in confused silence, enough that even Taehyung and Jungkook turn around from their phones.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asks in a worried voice. “Where’s Yoongi-hyung?”

Nobody replies, Jin just shaking his head with a grim frown and leaving the table himself, going after them.

“Guys,” Taehyung says more insistently, eyes not leaving the empty seats at the table.

“They both got a text,” you say with furrowed brows, “Yoongi and Yoonji. Must’ve been bad news, judging by their faces.”

“Jin-hyung’ll find out what’s going on,” Namjoon assures, though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself, “let’s just clean up for them and wait for an update. Yeah?”

The two youngest nod solemnly, still with a single Airpod each bobbing in their opposite ears.

For a while, the group of you remaining sit in silence, as if caught up in some spell that would only be broken once Jin returned with some answers. The absence of Yoongi at the table is so much more pronounced, and you can’t help but feel the sickening worry swirl inside you when you look at his bowl, chopsticks strewn carelessly beside it.

Everyone is just waiting for bad news. You’ve felt this looming dread before, and it either came with a swoop of relief or a blow of despair. Your teeth find your thumbnail as you wait helplessly to see which one it’ll be.

It feels like an eternity before the door finally opens, making everyone jump, but only a few minutes have really passed. Jin is panting slightly, like he ran back from wherever Yoongi disappeared to.

“He’s-” he starts quickly, before a tremor passes over his face and he grimaces, jogging over and falling heavily into his chair at the table, face in his hands. “Their dad is in hospital. Heart attack.”

“Oh my god,” Namjoon breathes, brows knit together in sympathy. “Is he okay? Was it serious?”

Jin shrugs, looking up enough to run his hand over his face and take a shaky breath. “He’s alright for now, but apparently they need to make sure it doesn’t repeat anytime soon. If he settles, he’ll be fine, but there’s a chance that he might suffer another attack. Yoongi and Yoonji are going to the hospital now to stay with him until they’re more certain he’s stable. Just in case.”

“When is he coming back? Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook’s eyes are wide, shiny. He can’t stop fiddling with his fingers, self-soothing.

“Not for a while, I don’t think,” Jin divulges with a pained expression. “He needs to be there for his family right now. That’s all I know, I’m sorry.”

The front door creaks, and all of you instinctively whip your heads towards it, as if Yoongi himself might be returning already, but you’re greeted with the weary face of Producer Sejin, joining you at the table, taking Yoongi’s old spot. Taehyung frowns deeply at the choice, turning his face away.

“What’s going on?” you ask quickly. “What happens to Yoongi? And us?”

“Yoongi is… He was in a rush to get going, understandably, so we didn’t speak in great depth. But he in short stated that he’d return when his father was in better health if the place was still open for him. I’ve got in contact with the higher-ups, and we’ve agreed to put the show on a temporary hold.”

“On hold?” Jungkook asks in a nervous voice. “What does that even mean?”

Sejin clears his throat stiffly and clicks his tongue. “Well. It means we’re putting a stop to the game for now, in short. If Yoongi is able to return by the end of the week, we’ll resume as usual. Otherwise, we’ll consider him to have permanently left the competition, and we’ll be forced to continue the game without him.”

You frown, fighting the urge to cry. This all feels so wrong, like he’s been taken from you with little hope of reunion, and discussing it like administration feels so clinical. “So we’re just sitting here, not knowing if he’s going to come back home, waiting around in limbo?” As soon as you finish, it feels like the word home lingers in the air longer than the rest of them. And perhaps this house doesn’t feel like home to you, but it certainly seems like six of the seven pieces of home are around you right now, and it’s not the same without him away. By the way the others are solemn and red-eyed, you probably aren’t the only one that’s begun feeling that way.

Sejin just shakes his head slowly, as subdued as you all are. “Listen, I know this isn’t ideal. The boss wanted to film it, make a big drama out of it, and then kick him off the show for views. I’m doing the best I can here to compromise and give him some dignity.”

Eyes widening, you stare at the round eyes of the cameras in the living room. “Are you- are you even allowed to say that?”

“I cut the camera feeds,” Sejin says in a defeated tone, “the show is officially off-air for technical difficulties. You can do what you want here while you wait - hell, you can leave if you want, just please be prepared to come back on the Sunday. We’ll have a discussion about whether Yoongi can return, and what we’ll do if he doesn’t. Understood?”

“Understood,” Namjoon offers up for the group, and the producer leaves with another sigh and an attempt at a comforting smile. You can’t help but feel bad for him, working such an emotionally draining job, especially when you’ve heard nothing but bad things about his employer.

Once the room falls into quiet again, Jin stands up, chair legs scraping against the floor. “Okay, I think we should decide as a group what we’re wanting to do. Stay or go?”

You open your mouth to give your two cents, but before you can, Jungkook suddenly chokes on a sob and covers his face with his hands, Jimin immediately scooting his chair closer to wrap an arm around his shaking shoulders.

“Hey, what is it?” Jimin asks quietly, but the room is so silent that you all catch it. “Talk to me, bun. What is it?”

Jungkook takes a few stuttering breaths to compose himself, sniffling. “I don’t want you all to leave too,” he confesses, Jimin’s thumb catching a tear dangling on the tip of his nose, “isn’t Yoongi-hyung enough?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” the elder promises, pressing a kiss into his hairline before looking up at the rest of you, eyes widening intentionally. “We’ll stick together through this until he comes back, yeah? It’s not all bad. The cameras are off, remember? We can have a break now, we don’t need to worry about the show. Isn’t that nice?”

After a moment’s considering, Jungkook nods slowly. “‘t is nice,” he admits begrudgingly. “But only if everyone stays.”

You can’t help but smile fondly, getting up yourself to come behind him, stroking his hair back. “We’ll stay, of course we’ll stay. Let’s spend some time together tonight, we can put on a movie and snuggle, how about that?”

He perks up at the thought of this, glancing around the table as the others nod in affirmation. “I’ll bring down the blankets,” he bargains, cracking a small smile, and the rest of the room relaxes, immediately bursting into sound as everyone arranges the necessary supplies for a good quality movie night, almost back to normal.

Jungkook, as the member of the Villa in most urgent need of a pick-me-up, is given movie choosing privileges, so the seven of you tuck in for a rewatch of his favourite Spiderman movies, perhaps the only thing that can keep him glued to the screen.

At first, the absence feels overwhelming to you. Try as you might through the opening sequence, you can’t shake it. Your mind counts heads without thinking, keeps looking at the space on the couch where Yoongi liked to put his feet up. Even though you know it’s his father who is unwell, not him, there’s the sick swelling in your stomach that makes you feel like his departure is final, and shortly after the title card plays out, you’re quietly excusing yourself and stumbling to the back door, in desperate need of fresh air.

It’s cold outside, a brisk wind cutting through you. You barely make it around the corner out of sight before your legs buckle, and you let yourself fall into a pathetic crouch, your weight propped up against the side of the house as you try to suck the chilled air into your lungs.

The panic creeps up on you in swells, the irrational fear that Yoongi would leave the show and you’d never see him again and everything would fall apart suddenly feeling like a whole tsunami crashing against you. Your fingers claw at the exterior wall as you fall back onto your behind, unable to even keep yourself in a crouch.

More so than the intrusive thoughts, it’s the image of Yoongi’s face falling, of him rushing out of the house in frantic distress that replays in your mind and leaves you suffocating. He looked so scared, your calm, reliable Yoongi. He was like a pillar, but that news was a fell swoop he couldn’t stay strong against. Your heart burns for him, cramping and aching in your chest.

For a moment, you picture yourself staying out here, gasping for breath until the sun goes down. You feel alone, more than ever since coming here, and even as the thought spooks you, there’s no energy in your body to do anything about it.

Just as your breaths start to sound more like death rattles and you curl your face towards the ground, a warmth envelopes your back, arms circling your middle and lifting you up.

“Hey, breathe, breathe with me, Y/n. I’m here.”

You recognise the voice. You recognise the built torso holding you steady, but your mind isn’t putting the pieces together, and so you simply squeeze your eyes shut and allow yourself to be maneuvered around there are hands on your face and a deep voice instructing you to look at me. I’m here; look at me.

You crack your eyes open, body heaving with the effort it takes to get any oxygen in your lungs, but you’re met with the soulful brown eyes of Kim Namjoon, narrowed in concern.

His hands are warm despite the frigid air outside, and you let yourself melt into him, eyes sinking to watch his lips mouth instructions, demonstrating exaggerated breathing for you to follow.

You feel distinctly like you might vomit, but you force yourself to match his breaths. The shuddering in and stilted out aren’t as fluid as his, but slowly your heart doesn’t thud in your ears and your body doesn’t shake as violently.

You feel damp, sweating all over, and your whole body aches, but your hearing begins to properly tune in again, coherence creeping back. “Na-Namjoon,” you gasp, wishing you had the energy to grab his arms or hug him or something other than lying limp against the wall of the house.

“Shh, hey, don’t strain yourself. Take it easy. I’m here.” He’s crouching in front of you, eyes locked onto you as he continues to hold you steady, jaw kept aloft by his hands. “Keep breathing, and it’ll go away. It’s a panic attack, I’ve had my fair share. You’ll come right.”

Trusting him despite the persisting burn in your chest, you let him coach your breathing for several more minutes, the heightened air influx making your head go light and floaty.

Once a counted breath turns into a yawn of exhaustion, you know the worst has passed. It leaves you boneless, not a single ounce of power left in your muscles, but you can breathe again, and it’s all thanks to the man across from you.

“I’ve never had one before,” you manage, voice cracking, “not like that.”

Namjoon’s lips press together in sympathy, and he turns to prop himself against the side of the house beside you, letting you continue breathing independently. “Is it Yoongi-hyung?”

You nod weakly, and the academic hums in confirmation. “I used to get panic attacks a lot in university. I used to hate them, thought they meant I was weak. Like I couldn’t handle the pressure as much as I thought I could. But, you know, these days I just figure I’m only panicking because it means so much to me. And I don’t think that makes me weak at all. It just means I care. Don’t feel ashamed about this, Y/n. All it means is that you care about hyung a lot.”

All the breath in your lungs leaves you in one rush as you prop your head in your hands, knees tucked towards your chest. “Yeah.” You wish you had something more appreciative to say, but your mind is waterlogged, weighed down and not functioning.

Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind the curt response. “I care about him a lot too. He’s like the glue for us, isn’t he? I’m worried to fall apart without him here keeping us in line. But we survived before we knew him and we’ll survive now. What’s better is supporting each other and waiting to see how we can support Yoongi-hyung, too.”

“You’re right,” you admit with a heavy breath, wiggling your toes to will energy back into them. “We’ll be okay.”

Namjoon bends sideways to bump your shoulder warmly. “That’s the spirit. Now; I’m happy to stay out here as long as you need, but Jungkook was the first one to notice you had been gone for a while, and I think he’s probably getting concerned by now. If you’re up to it, I can give you a hand to get inside and join the others again. What do you reckon?”

You lean your head back against the wall, taking a moment to consider. “What movie is he putting on next?”

“He mentioned wanting to check out Paw Patrol on Netflix.”

“Let me die out here,” you plead weakly.

Namjoon laughs, the sound like comfort itself, and stands up, offering you a hand. “Come on, kitten, up we get.”

In the end, the Netflix viewings manage to distract you for the rest of the night. When your limbs are tangled together and snacks are flowing, it’s easy to tune out of reality a bit and focus on the television screen in the comfort of shared company. Jungkook clears space on the couch for you the second you return, and clings to you for hours, his chin on your shoulder. You don’t complain, feeling soothed by the physical closeness. But the hours pass, and when the majority of you can no longer hold in your yawns, Seokjin gets up to turn the lights back on and clean up.

“Let’s get some rest,” he decides, and it’s that return to the real world that immediately dampens the atmosphere again, the group of you turning solemn. You pause to pull out your phone, sending Yoongi a quick message of support, and that you all missed him already, but no reply comes.

Without words being spoken, the seven of you remaining find yourselves flocking together as you make your way up to bed. Jin flanks the maknae as Namjoon and Hoseok lean heavily into each other, the four of them disappearing into Jin’s room. You naturally fall into step with the remaining two men, Taehyung linking his arm into yours and holding you close all the way to Jimin’s room.

Somehow, the house is too quiet. Even though Yoongi wasn’t a particularly noisy housemate, his absence cloaks the air.

You have no energy to shower. Washing your face is as much as you can manage, and Taehyung is even more despairing than you are, slumped on the toilet seat as Jimin cleans his face for him.

The uncertainty is what makes your heart flutter on edge, unable to wind down, and you know from the restrained looks of fear and distress in the guys’ eyes that they feel the same. The show would be undoubtably ruined if Yoongi couldn’t return. But more important than that, Yoongi would be ruined if he lost his father so suddenly.

Knowing Yoongi is hurting makes you ache, and you cling to your lovers like they’re your anchors in a churning sea, tucking your face firmly into Taehyung’s shoulder. It soothes you a little to be pinned between them, but the three of you still lie awake as the minutes blink by agonisingly slow.

At some point, you must fall into a fitful sleep, because when a sudden noise fills the room, it rouses you aggressively, and you almost kick Jimin’s shin in the process. Grunting, the half-asleep man rubs his face and twists around, fumbling on the nightstand for the offending noise.

It’s Taehyung’s phone, vibrating against the wooden table, and once Jimin blinks twice at the glaring screen he gasps and yanks the charger out, sitting up in bed. “It’s hyung,” he declares in a voice more vulnerable than you’d ever heard from him before. “Wake Tae.”

You force yourself to dispel those last few wisps of sleep from your brain, and gently shake Taehyung awake. According to the clock on the nightstand, it’s almost two in the morning, but your heart leaps as Yoongi’s face fills the phone screen, looking right at the three of you.

“I thought you would be together,” he states with a rueful smile, though you can see that it doesn’t quite reach his reddened eyes. “Sorry for calling so late.”

“Don’t apologise, hyung,” Taehyung whines, half of his weight on you as he leans in close, “we were so worried about you. How’s your dad?”

Yoongi’s brows furrow beneath mussed hair. “Not great,” he admits. “A little more stable, at least, but he’s pretty confused right now. Nurses worry that it might have affected his brain.”

Your heart sinks, both at the thought of a relatively young man suffering such awful health complications, but also at how Yoongi was trying to hide his exhaustion and distress. “Oh my god.”

“Mm, we should know soon what the damage is,” Yoongi explains further, rubbing his eyes with the hand not holding his phone aloft, “and if he’s alright I can head back h- head back to the Villa. He’s just been sleeping a lot today so… We don’t really know how he’ll be until he’s conscious for enough time. Yoonji’s with him at the moment, I just wanted to duck out and give you guys an update. Where are the others?”

“Jin-hyung’s room,” Jimin answers, even as he’s throwing back the covers. “They’ll want to hear from you themselves, just hold on a minute.”

You hear Yoongi’s voice echoing from the phone and strain to make out his words as Jimin heads to the door. “No, no, don’t wake them. I actually wanted to ask if you’d like to come visit? Of course none of you know my dad, and he doesn’t know you, but- Well, Yoonji and I could do with some company.”

You jump up, rushing to Jimin’s side. As he naturally accommodates your presence and pulls you flush against him, you lift your face up to the phone. “We’ll be there,” you assure Yoongi, “just please get some rest tonight. It’s been a rough day.”

Yoongi’s pained smile breaks your heart, and Jimin leads the phone back to the bed so that Taehyung can say a final goodbye before the three of you hang up and crawl, exhausted but somewhat relieved, back into bed.

#bts x reader #bts x reader smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #the gentlemen #tgm #yoongi x reader #jin x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

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omg-imagine · 3 years

Text

Loopy

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x female!V

Summary: V is a little loopy from her anesthesia, and Johnny finds it amusing.

Words: 1.7k

A/N: Requested by @thescorpionrodriguez. Hope you enjoy!

“Come on, V, wake the fuck up already.”

Silence. Johnny swears he could hear a pin drop.

V’s body remains lax on the bed; her eyes wound shut as if she were sound asleep. Slow and rhythmic, the rise and fall of her chest were calming, lulling. For once, she looks to be in peace, a rare moment for those who live and breathe in Night City.

She had been lucky. Extremely lucky. Two or three millimeters more to the right and the bullet that pierced her abdomen would have hit an organ. By some miracle, it missed anything vital and had exited out cleanly. It did fucking hurt judging by the sound of her agonizing groans, but here she was—still kicking, still alive.

And Johnny’s relieved that she was. They may not get along at times, but he genuinely cares for V. Hell, he would even consider her a good friend. She could call him a snarky asshole as often as she wants (and she does), yet he knows that deep down, she too has grown a soft spot for the rocker boy.

It’s been hours since the mission that went awry, and Johnny was getting pretty antsy. Vik had to put V down while he worked on repairing her cyberware. Nothing major, though the anesthesia should have certainly worn out by now. Much to Silverhand’s surprise, the ripperdoc wasn’t acting all too worried about it. He thinks V could use the sleep since he’s aware of how little she’s been getting.

Unfortunately, Johnny was all but a patient man. Bored out of his damn mind, he’s tired of roaming around the operating room, waiting and waiting for V to regain consciousness. Johnny’s more than ready to leave, perhaps grab a smoke afterward. He hasn’t gone this long without one lately, and he can’t enjoy one if V’s lying here, knocked out cold.

Nearly the rest of the day flies by, and the sun begins to set. That’s when he feels it; a spark—a familiar jolt of electricity emitting in the depths of V’s mind. Johnny manifests by her bedside, watching as her body finally stirs awake. That’s my girl, he silently praises, a flicker of a smile playing on his lips. V’s eyes flutter open, taking a minute to survey her surroundings before her line of sight lands on him.

“Well, look who decided to come back to life,” Johnny quips, leaning closer. “You doing alright, kid?”

V doesn’t respond. Rather, she bursts into a fit of giggles out of nowhere.

What the fuck?

Bewildered, Johnny glances everywhere but notices nothing amusing of the sort. “Care to share what you find so funny?”

“You’re too good looking to be my nurse,” V drawls, no doubt experiencing side effects from the anesthesia.

“I’m no nurse, princess, but thanks,” he corrects her. Then, it dawns on him. “You recognize me?”

She blinks at him blearily, the gears in her head turning as she tries to put a name to the face. “I dunno, should I?”

“It’s Johnny. Johnny Silverhand. Ring any bells?”

Again, V chuckles, a light-hearted tone that Johnny rarely hears, but they were sweet music to his ears when he does.

“Nope, zero bells. Are you like my husband or something?”

Johnny’s eyes widen. “Husband? Oh, no, honey. We ain’t even gone on a date yet. I’d say, think of us as partners-in-crime.”

“Wait!” V blurts out, gasping. “I remember you. You’re from that band—Samurai, right? God, I used to listen to your songs a lot as a kid.”

“Huh, you told me you’d never heard of Samurai,” Johnny recalls, slightly entertained at this point. “Didn’t peg you as a fangirl, V. I’m flattered.”

“So, can I… y’know, get your autograph?”

Just before Johnny could continue playing around with a loopy V, Viktor strolls in with Misty in tow, both delighted to find the merc out of her prolonged slumber. He lingers by the foot of her bed as Vik explains to V what happened, but she doesn’t seem to be processing it. She stares at him, dazed, and Johnny wonders when she’ll be back to normal.

“The effects should go away in a few hours,” Vik informs Misty once he’s examined V. She’s healing nicely and isn’t complaining much, yet that could be because of all the painkillers she was jacked with. “I’d say watch over V until she can stand on her own two feet without tripping. Other than that, she’s good to go.”

“Where are we going?” a clueless V asks, looking back and forth between the two. “Is Johnny coming?”

Misty furrows her brow at her. “Johnny?”

“Yeah, mister sex on legs over there,” she points eagerly, and Johnny smirks at that. “I’m not done talking to him yet.”

Vik shakes his head before reminding Misty of the engram residing within V’s psyche. “Oh, yeah. Silverhand. Uh, I guess he could come, too. Don’t really have much of a choice there, doll.”

The walk back to V’s apartment was a journey in itself. Lucky for her, she was pushed in a wheelchair throughout it all as Johnny stays visible for her benefit. They reached the door just before the skies turned completely dark, the warmth and comfort of the room being somewhat familiar to V.

Misty carefully moves her onto the bed, propping her up with pillows behind her back before smoothing out the blankets covering her legs. Johnny observes from a distance, quiet in his pondering. He’s never seen V this vulnerable before. She’s always been incredibly independent, not to mention stubborn as hell. She won’t accept anyone’s help unless it’s dire, and even then, she’s reluctant to do so.

“You must be starving,” Misty comments once V is settled. “How about I get you somethin’ to eat downstairs. Better food than what’s here, if there’s any. Hang tight for a bit, ’kay?”

Nodding, Misty then heads out of the room, the front door sliding shut when she’s gone, leaving V in the presence of Johnny yet once again. He glitches to sit by the edge of the mattress as V stares at him incredulously. Her eyes shone what he could best describe as innocence; she truly has no clue of what they’ve gone through together in the previous months.

“Can you sing me a song?”

Johnny narrows his gaze, a small chuckle rumbling in his throat at her deliriousness. “I don’t do concerts anymore.”

“Oh, come on!” V pouts, almost child-like in her ways. “Pleeease?”

“No,” he refuses sternly before an idea comes to mind. “How about you sing to me? Said you were a fan. Give me a performance, and maybe I’ll consider it.”

V does not hesitate. On cue, she starts to serenade Johnny with one of Samurai’s greatest hits, going as far as imitating the gruffness of his voice. Off-beat and lyrics garbled, V belts out the tune confidently and loud enough that her irritated neighbors began banging on the wall, yelling at her to quit it.

She ignores them, of course.

Meanwhile, Johnny’s having the time of his life. It was quite endearing to him, although embarrassing for V if she later finds out about this. Yet, he doesn’t stop her. He encourages her even further by singing along, not giving a fuck in the world.

At the end of the song, Johnny laughs heartily along with V, who had crawled closer to him. Their eyes meet for a moment that seems to last longer than it actually did. His mouth quirks up in a smile, the kind of smile that was reserved for her and her alone.

“You’re pretty cool, Silverhand,” V mumbles sleepily, touching the cold surface of his chrome arm. Sighing, Johnny guides her drowsy self back under the covers, certain that she would crash in the next minute or two. “I think you should take me on a date. We’d be a hell of a couple together.”

“I think you’re going to regret everything that’s happened just now when you wake up in the morning,” he returns, and there was a slight pang in his chest.

V only hums in response, and he doubts he had even heard what he last said. It doesn’t matter, however. Johnny was sure she wouldn’t want to bring this up again.

---

“Fuck…” V exhales groggily, her blinking eyes wincing at the bright sunlight flooding into the room. She feels pain all over, her head throbbing immensely as she tries to gather memories of the day prior. It comes back in bits and pieces until suddenly, she remembers everything.

Everything.

“Good morning, princess,” Johnny greets after materializing before her, a cocky smirk plastered on his face. “How ya feelin’? Still loopy or need a little more refreshing from ‘mister sex on legs?’”

V’s reflexes are quick; Johnny doesn’t even register the pillow being hurled at him at first. He only realizes it when the empty glass bottles on the center table falls to the floor, shattering and making a mess.

“You’re lucky you’re just a hologram, right now,” V muttered as she stands up unsteadily.

Johnny holds his hands up. “You were the one who said it.”

Rolling her eyes, V reaches for the painkillers Misty left on the side. “Don’t remind me.”

“Alright, but at least let me tell you that you’ve got a shitty voice.”

“That’s why I don’t do karaoke,” V snorts before swallowing the pills and heading to the couch. “So, what do you think?”

“What do you mean?” Johnny questions.

“You, me, dinner?”

V waits for his reaction, smiling coyly at his confusion. When Johnny finally understands what she was referring to, he almost couldn’t believe it.

“Wait, are you fucking serious?”

She lets out a chortle. “Yeah, I’m serious. Don’t get me wrong, I’m mortified about last night, and I’m never going to let Vik knock me out with that stuff again. But hey, the truth came out. Might not have remembered you, but even while high as fuck, I knew I liked you.”

Briefly, they traded a look of longing, acknowledging at last this deeper connection they’ve felt for a while. It was much more than sharing a body, a mind. Something more profound than what Johnny and V have experienced before in their lives.

And though it was all entirely new to them, they both wanted it. They both wanted each other.

“Better get to it then,” Johnny flashes a grin, mirroring V’s own. “Wanna start with breakfast? Bet you’re hungry after skipping what Misty brought you, samurai.”

“Never going to live that one down, are ya?”

Shooting her a cheeky wink, Johnny throws on his stylish pair of aviators with ease.

“You bet your ass I’m not.”

Permanent Tags: @penwieldingdreamer @keandrews @feminine-machinegun @fanficsrusz @thehumanistsdiary @flaminasteroid @rowserein @unaspiringwritings @planetkt @breakthenight @baphometwolf666 @rdjloverxxx

Johnny Silverhand Tags: @silverse @overheardatthecontinental @life-is-fuucked @ataraxydreams

#johnny silverhand x v #johnny silverhand #cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand x reader #johnny silverhand fanfic

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Note

Hey!!! I'm so glad you liked the blurb night idea :) 💞 Can I request a blurb with Peter bumping into the reader while she's kinda lost at times square and he's dressed as spiderman so he tries to flirt with you, but it makes you laugh instead?

I loved the idea hun, thankyou sm for helping me with this idea xxx

“You’re a guy?”

Pairing | Peter Parker x reader

Summary | based on the request

Warnings | mentions of crime, brief mention of death and drugs, mention of sex

2K blurb masterlist

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

“And there was this girl. She was really pretty, but-“ May quirked her head at her nephew, hardly understanding his blabber as he sped through his words like he was racing verbally against a cheetah, though, she was manage to uncover that particular sentence.

“Whoa, slow down kiddo.” His aunt laughed lightly, bracing her shoulders on his arms as he caught his overexcited breath. “How about you start from the beginning, and take a breath?” May had much practice with calming the boy down, she sincerely remembered how that night his parents had dropped him off, how worried he had been for them not to return. And they didn’t.

Peter bobbed his head in a eager nod, doing as he was recommended by his legal guardian, puffing the air in through his cheeks, as he inhaled and exhaled normally through his nose.“I was out patrolling the city, checking out for any bad guys, and then, I saw her...” her, the girl that had captured his attention, and distracted him from his friendly neighbourhood duties. She was much like a magnet, pulling his north face into her axis spinning world, distracting him from the things that he was actually meant to be ensuring did not happen on his watch.

“Weren’t you supposed to be patrolling?” The elder of the two quirked a brow, earning a splutter of a response from the teenager under her roof. She wasn’t a strict guardian concerning his heroic antics, though, she made sure to keep him on track for his own sake. Peter had quite the tendency to become overrun with stress from the amounts of responsibilities that he took on, and him being only young did not help the situation.

“I’m getting to that!” He was fast to defend himself, huffing his chest in as he prepared to tell May his story, from the beginning. It was quite the tale, he’d say, combined with the embarrassment of his own presence entangled in the random and friendly interaction that he had felt promiscuously lulled to create.

Queens, it was new to you. There were so many streets, filled to the brim with people that seemed to know where they were going. Unlike them, you didn’t, in fact, you’d go as far to admit that you were lost. Lost in a place that was known for the chaos that wrapped it off with a tarnished bow, and made the collateral practically fashion within its various newspapers that rounded every corner to divulge their companies’ obscure theories.

A panicked look struck your eyes, as you turned, shaking your head and pressing through the mass of citizens and finding an empty lot, scrolling through your phone, diverting your attention quickly towards google maps. It was the only thing that you could think of, it’d be a shame if you were to disturb one of the many passersby from their clearly packed schedule; you did not need that, nor berating them on your conscience.

“You lost or something?” A voice asked, making your shoulders jump as a figure, twisted in the colours red and blue, with a seam of black fell from the roofs above. Your heart rate imploded, more so when you realised who the mask wearing vigilante was. The wearer, although unknown, was infamous for the successions of saving lives that they had participated in, including defending the galaxy against outside threats.

It was Spiderman, the neighbourhood dubbed avenger, that tried their utmost to return stolen or lost bikes to their rightful owners, and protected banks from armed and overnight robberies. There was known to be something different about this particular hero, they were young and clearly had time to improve their skill set, for they were quite the clutz, and spoke significantly more to those he faced off against than what was necessary.

But this one hero, stood out amongst the rest. Not only was their suit designed by Stark technology, as you had written about in a work article, but it was far more concealing, and not to mention restricting, for the person beneath the red concoction to wear. Yes, you were in town for a new job, specifically to delve into the details that regards the world of heroes, and exploit all possible angles to how they deserved as much recognition for their stunts, as the president received for his noble speeches.

“I-“ you paused, think back over what you were preparing to say. It was without a doubt, that you had not expected the vigilante to appear in your spectacle gaze the first time that you stepped foot on the premises that he roamed, and protected. But here the spider enthusiast was, leaping down to stand beside you, burdening you with more knowledge that you could use, such as the person beneath was not as tall as you had expected, and there was definitely no way you could see their true eyes through the shallow white cases that covered them.

That was something you could write about, and make various descriptive theories about. ‘Seeing in white vision, sparked by the purity that glazed their unknown signature irises, Spider-Man halts all with the sparing of their true self. They may have reasons for shielding their eyes, much like Daredevil, not needing to see when they are overcome with various other senses that convulse their body into attentiveness,” -no, that sounded absolutely terrible.

And not to mention, if you spread that horrid writing about, Murdoc would be ashamed of ever deciding to get your aid in uncovering the route of the villainous underworld, that had take over Hell’s Kitchen and turned it into their own ring for drugs and more. The battle of New York had many repercussions, that being one, another influencing you into the career choice of being said reporter that you now proclaimed yourself as.

“Yeah, I am.” You responded with the company of a smile, and Peter swore he could feel his heart convulse beneath his suit. It’s pace was vaguely rapid, disheartening him from thinking of any more to say, he was practically speechless. “I’m looking for New York Times, you ever heard of it?” Yes, he most definitely had, it was the average run of the mill newspaper company, though, he did not know that you intended to change that into something much more.

“Funnily enough I have.” He scratched the back of his head, his arm subconsciously flexing as he did so, feeling like he had failed as your eyes remained focused on the wideness of his suit’s intense eyes. “It’s about three blocks from here, I could take you there if you want, I have nothing more to do.” From his proclamation you quirked a brow, crossing your arms amusedly.

“Don’t you have a city to watch over?” You asked, watching as Spider-Man’s false eyes widened, and he visibly panicked, realising that you had been right. “I’ll find my way, I’ve been to New York, many a time, Queens is bound to be a piece of cake. Also, a map is always handy.” A shrug rippled off your shoulders, Peter watching and walking closer as he thought of something more to add to the initial acquainting conversation.

“I’m Spider-Man.” Inwardly, and beneath his mask, Peter cringed noting how his voice rose, and it could be perceived as boasting. That though was definitely not his intent in the slightest, but he worried of how it may have come across to you. He wasn’t sure how you may have read it as, but a swarm of relief filled his lungs as he watched the corner of your eyes crinkle up, humoured by the tone of his that had significantly heightened. “Im a guy by the way.”

He felt the need to state that, especially considering people’s perceptions in the past. But instantly after saying it, he was regretful, through, he had to admit, he enjoyed listening to you laugh, it was like a melody that he wanted to listen to until the end of time. “You’re a guy?” You released a dramatic gasp, aiding your phoney response. “Yeah, no. I completely thought that you were a girl.” Sarcasm, he had well gotten used to frequency of it thanks to Mr Stark, who... well, he wasn’t around any more.

“You’re funny.” He smiled, shaking his head whence he realised that you could not see his hidden expression. “I don’t know, maybe, would you like to go to coffee with me, if you have time before you have to get to the news place? I mean, I don’t drink that much coffee, I get told that if I have too much caffeine that I get a little hyper, but I mean, I’m trying to ask you out and I have a really bad track record of-“

“Sure.” You spoke, ignoring the map that had finally loaded onto the screen of your phone. It was to your luck that you weren’t required to make your presence known at the business until tomorrow, and there was always time to kill, so you thought screw it, and decided to find it so that you didn’t get lost the approaching day. “Are you going to be wearing that, or you know, take it off?” You pointed at him, making peter surprised.

“It’s not that kind of date.” He quickly responded. “I meant just for a drink, not to hook up in the back of an a- oh, you meant the suit, didn’t you.” With a roll of your eyes, you nodded, pursing your lips together, as Peter felt the rain of relief once more. “Oh, that’s good, not that I wouldn’t want to, you’re gorgeous, that just wasn’t my intent and I’m rambling again, aren’t I?”

“Basically.” You wrinkled your nose, with a laugh, the way you scrunched it up was adorable to Peter. “So I’ll meet you here in two hours, I’ll let you finish up your duties, and change into something that doesn’t make you look you’re wearing a thong, because I can tell you from experience that those things are not comfortable. That good for you Spidey?”

“That works.” He spoke, trying his best to contain his overflowing excitement, biting his lip to do so. “That definitely works.”

“Hi.” The familiar voice of Spider-Man spoke, and you turned around, watching as a young man, not much different in age from yourself rounded the corner. He was clothed in a blue and white chequered flannel, and grey jeans, and you had to say, that whilst the amazing Spider-Man was quite the sight, this was something else.

“Oh, I was waiting for a girl actually.” You informed him, clearly messing with him, as you walked closer, a stretching smile pinning up the corners of your lips. “But I guess you’ll do webslinger.” He could feel his heart racing, but he walked closer, watching as you eyed him, a stranger met with the sight of a vigilante unmasked. “Where to, red and blue?”

“There’s this really good place on main, they sell the best sandwiches. And trust me, once you buy from there, you won’t stop...” the two of you began to walk away together, and towards Peter’s secret destination, where the two of you learnt the others real name.

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giorno-plays-piano · 3 years

Text

Till The End of Time

Pairing: forest devil!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: slight dubcon, kidnapping, brief description of violence, mentions of death.

Words: 1558.

Summary: It didn't even feel cold anymore, and you thought how nice it would be to feel warmth one last time before you died here. Oh, a thick fur cape wrapped around your shoulders was more than anything you could wish for...

P.S. To my darling @navegandoaciegas whom I wish a very pleasant evening 😌💖

_____________________

Rubbing your trembling shoulders, you breathed out blue-grey clouds of steam, stepping on the cold ground with your bare feet. The forest around you was covered in snow, it's shining strangely warm and inviting as if it were a soft fur cloak laying on the ground, wrapped around wild bushes and trees. For a second you thought how nice it would be if you just lay there, too, resting from many hours of walk, but you tried keeping the image in your head away, knowing well you would just freeze to death.

Your old sandals were too worn out and lost in a chase; the ends of your long white nightgown were torn, and the fabric itself was so thin it couldn't protect you from the wind and snow, soaked in the blue blood streaming down your mouth. Your feet bled too, and sometimes you were leaving small blue marks on the snow where you stepped. Sighing tiredly and sometimes crying out when your uncombed hair got caught in a bush or tangled up in the branches of a tree, you kept walking further in the forest, hoping the ones chasing you wouldn't find you here.

When they found you in a workhouse, just a young woman who scrubbed the floors and washed the dishes, they proclaimed your fate was to give birth to a devil, and before you knew it you had been hunted down for a crime you didn't commit. Give birth to a devil? How could anyone believe that? You were nothing but a hard-working woman who went to the temple every week as everyone else in town, giving your prayers to gods like you should. You had never prayed to devil, you didn't even know if it existed!

But it didn’t matter now as you kept walking in the charmed forest, and the snowflakes falling from the pearly white sky shone like gold. It didn't even feel cold anymore, and you thought how nice it would be to feel warmth one last time before you died here. Oh, a thick fur cape wrapped around your shoulders was more than anything you could wish for...

Finally lowering yourself to the ground, you sat on the snow, your nightgown laying on it like a see-through wedding veil, and stared at the snowflakes falling from the sky. Everything around was shining gold like in king's treasury, and you smiled to yourself, imagining you were in some fairytale where the prince was coming for you, his beloved, to take you away to his kingdom far far away, wrapping you in his cape and carrying you on his white stallion like a princess. When you heard the sound of hooves, you thought you had either fallen asleep or finally died from cold.

There was a man dressed in a black cape, crow feathers on his shoulders, sitting on a black horse with golden harness. He must have been a product of your imagination because the forest was too dense for a horse, but you smiled weakly to a man as if he were real. Was he a prince you were waiting for? Was he the Death coming to take you? Both were fine.

He watched you kindly as if he pitied you, a poor soul chased so far into the wild lands dressed in just a nightgown - it had been late night when they came to your house, trying to catch you. Although your mouth stopped bleeding, he could still see chapped blood on your skin and a long blue trail on a white cloth.

"Are you lost, child?" The stranger asked you softly, his horse stopping right near the place you sat, the man watching you from above.

You shook your head tiredly, smiling to him, "No. I am where I want to be."

What else could you tell him? Freezing to death in the woods was far from a happy ending you dreamt of, but it was still better than being burnt at the stake, watching people enjoying you suffer.

Something changed in the stranger's face when he got off his horse, coming closer to you, twigs snapping underfoot. Strangely, you didn’t feel scared despite the man looming over you, his face as pale and grey as a tombstone. When he reached out to touch you, you let him, feeling his soft leather gloves as he stroked your cheek, his face millimeters from yours. He had a concerned expression when he rubbed off the chapped blood from your chin as if he cared.

"Poor little girl." The stranger whispered in a soothing tone, taking his cape off and wrapping you in it like a child, then putting his gloves on your terribly cold hands that could hardly move. "I will take you home."

"But I have no home." You giggled, realizing the black coat that man wore had a fur lining you had just dreamt about.

"Everybody has a home, just not where they expect it to be."

Carefully lifting you in the air, the man carried you back to his horse that had been waiting patiently for him as if it knew what you two were talking about, staying still. Since you had never ridden a horse before it was a bit of a struggle, but soon you sat on top of it with the stranger sitting behind you and holding you softly, continuing his way somewhere further in the woods. You finally felt warm, the clip-clop of hooves replacing a lullaby and lulling you to sleep while the handsome stranger left a kiss on your forehead. Funny.

"Are you a prince?" You asked him, raising your head to look into his pale face, his expression calm and collected when he stared back at you, a smile forming on his face.

Then for a couple of seconds he seemed to be deep in thoughts. "Yes, in some way."

You didn't expect an answer like that, wondering what he meant. Some way? Did it mean he was related to a royal family to some extent? Was he even human? Maybe he wasn't, you thought, watching his icy cold eyes.

"Are you Death, then?" Ensconced in warm black furs, you felt you were slowly falling asleep again, barely holding on and watching how shining snowflakes disappeared when they touched man's eerie black attire, the gold shining gone as if it were absorbed by his body.

"Sometimes."

Sighing, you closed your eyes, snuggling against the man. He wasn't even real, you thought, imagining your dead body still sitting in the snow with your back against a hawthorn tree. Maybe the stranger was carrying your soul to the underworld where you would finally find peace. This should be a home he was talking about, right?

If it looked as pretty as the shining forest, maybe it was for the best.

"When we'll arrive there, can you leave me your cape?" You asked the man timidly, hoping you could still keep it if the place where he was taking you was as cold as the winter forest. It was bold of you to assume the man would give you something so expensive and valuable, but if he truly were a product of your imagination you had nothing to lose.

He let out a laugh, his long dark hair tickling your forehead while feathers on a cape poked your cheek. "Of course. I can give you a new cape every day, if you wish."

Giggling again, you smiled, excited like a little girl. "Does it mean you will stay in that place with me?"

For a moment he kept quiet, and you grew worried he would leave you there all alone: despite spending so little time with the stranger, being together with him felt much better than staying all alone.

"Of course, dear." He said gently. "I am taking you to my home. From now on, I will share it with you."

"Oh, if it came to this, can you tell me who exactly you are?"

"I am the devil."

For a second you thought you heard him wrong, raising your head and watching him, looking for something that would prove he was joking, but the man looked as serious as before. The devil? Him? Did the devil truly exist or was he just a product of your imagination? Was he taking you into the underworld where you would suffer for as long as he wanted you to?

Now the only thing you wanted was to slip from his horse and run till your feet bled blue again, but he kept you close, his arm on your chest heavy as a solid piece of stone. Knowing there was no escape now, you started crying, and the black cape he gave you was catching your tears without becoming damp just like his attire kept absorbing glowing snowflakes.

"Ten lifetimes I spent on that clearing in the woods for you, but now I'm done waiting." The man pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, embracing your trembling body with one hand, a brindle in the other as he kept taking you far away from the world you knew, the world that had been so cruel to someone who didn't deserve it. "I will take you somewhere no one can hurt you, my dear, for I am destined to be your protector and keeper."

________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @iheartsebandchris @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @ninefuckingoneone

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #yandere #winter soldier #mcu #mcu fanfiction

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arrogantsonofabiscuit · 3 years

Text

Adore you

Feat:- Kuroo and You!

Genre:- Fluff and mentions of pet names.

A/n:- Dancing with Kuroo while listening to your favorite song :)

Word count:- 1.4K

A post for @ohajime song fic collaboration

Funny isn't it? When you plan something out and nothing seems to go accordingly? The excitement, the joy and the hard-work seems to be wasted when something messes it up. Well that's the situation you are in right now!

Thinking aback, sleeping when the alarm snoozes for the umpteenth time but you seem to still doze off with sleep lingering within you and your body asking you to rest some more. You move to the other corner of your bed where your boyfriend sleeps. You groan when you find out that his spot on the bed is empty and cold. You stir back to your side of the bed and try to pull your plush blanket over your form for some kind of warmth. You tried pulling but something kept it on its spot , slightly opening your eyes you see your boyfriend with his arm on his chest.

"Blanket"

"No."

"What do you mean NO? I need my blanket!" you whine.

"No, you can't have your blanket, we have to get ready."

" Huh?" you replied with a confused face

"Babe, did you forget what day it is today? We have to go to your brother's wedding?" He gets up from the bed and stretches himself so that the remaining sleep is gone. "Yeah I know , but we can do one thing " you reply with a yawn. "And that is? " he opens the closet to take out his towel. "You go bath and once you are done would you please wake me up?" your reply as you stir back to your previous position. He hums and enters the bathroom.

The bedroom was filled with dim light even though it was quite sunny outside along with slight voice of water and a humming sound could be heard which lulled you in a deep slumber. Kuroo gently twists the door knob and the enters the bedroom with a towel hung loosely on his body, just giving the glimpse of his perfectly sculpted body. He then walks towards you ,sleeping on the plush bed with pillows underneath your head, your hair scattered everywhere on your face, your slightly parted lips had urged him to kiss you but he stopped as he remembered that you guys had to attend a wedding!

He caresses your forehead and brushes your hair off your face, you grab his wrist and kiss his knuckle earning a chuckle from the ravenette and you get up. The blanket was now on top of your head and you spin your head with the blanket. He observes your mini performance and how you tangle yourself more into the mess of the blanket. You groan as you look at the time on the clock placed on the nightstand. You were supposed to be up by 7:00 but now it seems like you woke up an hour late as it was 8:00 now. You get up from your bed irritatingly and fold your blanket and set your bed in order, Kuroo was observing you from corner of his eyes and had one of the biggest smiles plastered on his face. He could think of only one word and that was "Adorable." (Your mess is adorable 😣☹️)

You take a towel with you and you tie your hair into a messy bun before stepping into the bathroom. You set your products on the flat surface of the tabletop and get ready to take a quick shower.

Kuroo goes to the kitchen to look for something to munch on . He decides to make some breakfast as he knows once you get late you don't like to have breakfast and you also forget to carry some snacks with you. He takes out a pan and cracks open an egg and makes sunny side eggs the way you like it. He prepares some toast along with a cup of your favorite coffee. Your coffee preference always confused him because you were known to be a sweet tooth but you always liked your coffee to be bitter so that it would wake you up and help you stay awake during work.

You step out of your the shower-room and start drying yourself . As soon as you look up at the mirror you see some sticky notes on them. It had small messages written on them like "Before you forget I wanted to let you know that this big boy loves you and he fucking adores you!". "Good morning sweet cheeks ! You have no idea the amount of happiness you brought into my life! <3." You would call it cheesy or what not but those messages did make you giddy and lightheaded.

You smile looking at them and start getting ready. You apply some of your products and take out the dress you were supposed to wear. You come out of your room and enter the kitchen to have a small snack before leaving, because you knew that you would always get angry at your boyfriend if you weren't fed well. You were flabbergasted when you heard him humming to your favorite song as you enter the kitchen from the long hallway.

“Your wonder under summer skies

Brown skin and lemon over ice

Would you believe it?

You don't have to say you love me

I just wanna tell you something

Lately you've been on my mind”

You clear your throat as you look at Kuroo's flustered face and he whipped his head left and right to cover his pink cheeks and ears from your loving gaze. He was already surprised when you showed up but what escalated was the way you continued to sing the song

"Honey

I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you

Oh, honey

I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you"

You walk towards him as he sets the plate on the dining table with an enchanting smell of your coffee along with your favorite breakfast and to top that he also kept a small piece of the cake that you had bought a day ago. You were amazed at how much this guy knew you, your habits, your weirdness and what not. You guys look at each other for a brief second and continue to sing the song,

"Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you

Oh, honey I'd walk through fire for you

Just let me adore you

Like it's the only thing I'll ever do"

You bow down as you perform this small set with your beloved and then hug him saying "Thank you I could not have done this without you " .After having your breakfast, you guys washed your dishes and finally after completing all the chores ,settled on your respective car seat.

The sun was high in the sky, the light came seeping through the shades you were wearing . The sky was almost the color of pastel pink , soft for the eye and absolutely lovely. The scenario outside looked mesmerizing almost breathtaking as you reach the venue of the wedding. You met your mother and she was complaining about how late you were , but you couldn't find right reasons to explain her. The only possible reason was that you overslept but the way you got ready, the way you cherished the moments ,the way you twirled around your house dancing to your favorite song with the person you love made your heart fill with upmost love you had for your boyfriend.

The wedding ceremony concluded and various toasts were made . A soft music played in the background which made you jolt out of your seat and you made your way to the dance floor with your boyfriend. He placed his arms around your waist pulling you closer and you placed your hand on his broad shoulder. You slow danced to the song and at that moment maybe today god was with you (quite rare), the sun had set in the background , the small rays making you look ethereal, the smile you had glowed more and the way your eyes shined made him blush. He looked so handsome as the way the sun kissed his features on his face , his wide smile and even his hazel eyes penetrating through your soul. It felt like he found the one for him , he found his home, his partner in crime, his paradise. At that moment Kuroo and You came to a conclusion and that was,

"You have to hold my hand tightly love, because it is a long journey ahead, lets dance till the end with your hand in my hand. Let's love till the end."

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tamagochiie · 3 years

Text

pairing: timeskip!kenma x fem!reader

synopsis: You come home late from your cousin’s funeral, and though Kenma didn’t expect much from you but perhaps a few leftovers you’ve managed to steal away from the dinner, he finds you with a surprise: a sleeping child cradled around your neck and a teenage boy hovering behind you.

Your poor boyfriend wondering what in the hell it is you’re plotting…

tags: angst and fluff, time skip!, slight spoilers if you squint

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of depression, cursing

w/c: 2.5k

a/n: welcome to the first chapter of this series! i’m very excited to start this, and i hope everyone who reads it enjoys it as well! i got the idea from a manga i was binge reading a while back, so the themes and a few of the plot points are different, but as it progresses, i’ve made it my own.

anyway, happy christmas! see you next week!

master list

life as she’s known it >>

You notice the subtle clench of Kenma's jaw beneath the warm glow of the hallway's light. His hooded gaze strained by hours upon hours of gaming meets your wavering grin. The gears in his head are turning very slowly, and since silence has fallen upon the atmosphere of your shared apartment, you can actually hear the little squeaks as your poor boyfriend tries to fathom the sight before him.

You have quite a knack for bringing peculiar things home without permission; the little frog you adopted on the side of the road during your commute home one stormy night, the mud pie your nephew made for you that stunk the entire apartment for weeks because you didn't have the heart to throw it away—at least not immediately; and the dinner you brought home from the self-proclaimed "legitimate" kebab restaurant that resides in the sketchier side of the city.

All quirky things that Kenma had accepted and grown used to.

But this? This was so far from the bar you had set for his expectations, he can't help but wonder if you're pulling a prank, or maybe even actually committing a crime. But the glint of guilt and sorrow painting so deep into your face tells him otherwise.

Oh, how the poor gamer wishes it was a prank.

You swallow your fear, forcing it all the way down to the pit of your stomach. You've practiced all you've needed to say in the ride home, but all you can manage is stuttering, "I-I can..I can explain," in rather hushed tone.

There goes all my practice, you think to yourself.

Kenma raises a brow, still peering at you with the driest expression. The child in your arms begins to weigh heavier than the pressure placed upon your chest.

Ah, he just might break up with me after this...

"This is—uh, this one behind me is Eiji—Ejij say hi." The young boy behind you bows shyly, his greeting softer than a whisper it feels like you imagined it. "And this little one—sleeping soundly—this one's Yuki..."

Kenma blinks away at your words, face unamused. You regret not even trying to bring home some cake. Maybe if you did, he wouldn't be so...upset? Is he upset or is it just his face again? You can never really tell.

You huff, quietly jumping to the harsh conclusion this'll be the moment he ends things with you. But you won't go down without at least a little fight.

"Look," You sigh, shifting your hold beneath Yuki's tiny bum so he doesn't slip away, "They needed a place to stay, and no one was willing to take them!" Your lips fall dry and the more you speak, the more your words come out strained. "In a room full of people who—who called themselves your family for so many years fall silent the moment they needed help! No one spoke up to help them! It was so bad, Kenma! I-If you were there you—"

You bite your tongue, catching yourself before you're swept away by the current of your rage.

A deep, shaky sigh escapes him. His eyes finally tearing away from you as he cranes his head back, seemingly accepting his temporary defeat. "Let them sleep in the spare room and we'll talk after," is the only thing Kenma says to you before turning around walking away.

The constricting feeling in your chest eases and you sigh in relief. You mentally high five yourself for your momentary win before twisting your gaze over your shoulder to look at the young boy towering over you, motioning him to follow you.

You never noticed how wide the apartment actually is. Maybe its because of the emptying feeling you were left with back in the hallway, but it all seems so eerily wide. Like, what are two people doing with such a big space?

He'll definitely break up with me after this.

There's still a lingering prickly feeling in your heart; a mixed emotion of a win and a loss. You try your best to prepare yourself for whatever the outcome may be, but deep inside you're already prepared for a break up.

The young boy trails behind you all the way into the bedroom, leaving a considerable amount of space between the two of you.

You switch the lights on, revealing a room big enough for more than just two kids. A desk on the side, a king size bed at the center, and a window with a good view of the city. It was usually the room Hinata crashed whenever he came back from traveling with his team, but he hadn't been here in months. Traces of him were left in the form of dust.

"Will this be good enough for now?" You ask Eiji as you shrug Yuki's backpack to the floor before making your way over to the bed.

His head is lowered, eyes still failing to meet yours. He's been like this since you pulled them from under the gossiping gaze of your family.

Family, you think. The word seems so meaningless now.

"When someone speaks to you, you ought to look at them," You say it with a genuine smile, hoping that the little warmth you have left in your heart radiates off you and onto him.

God knows he needs it more than you.

"Y-yes, you're right. Thank you." He stammers, "I'm-I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude—"

"Hey," You say, gently cutting him off as you hold your smile. He's still as soft and shy as the day you first met him. You can't help but smile at the thought that he never changed. "I'm not mad or anything...Its just a teaching moment. Remember it."

You watch as Eiji slowly shifts his gaze away from the floor, slowly raising his head to meet your eyes."There you go. You've got pretty eyes, you shouldn't hide them."

He hums a quiet thank you before turning around and shifting his attention to his backpack. You take care of the little one still hanging onto you, pressing a kiss onto his little forehead and rubbing his back before settling him down onto the bed.

You're careful not to stir him as you slip his shoes off. You tuck him in, brushing his hair away from his face to reveal his long lashes and puffy eyes.

Ah, there goes the heaviness in your chest again; a recurring feeling for the day. You wonder when it'll end and your heart sinks even deeper when you remember Kenma waiting for you.

Hesitantly, you excuse yourself and make your way to the door. You let Eiji know where the bathroom is and tell him not to be scared to ask you for anything, "Please don't scared," is the last thing you mutter before leaving the boys to rest.

You tiptoe across the living room, down the hall and towards your shared bedroom. The wooden floorboards creak beneath your feet whispering, "You've done it now", "You've crossed the line", and "He's definitely going to yell at you".

You clench the knob of your bedroom door. The thumping of your heart deafens your ears and your throat grows too dry for you to swallow your fear.

You shut your eyes and pray to the deities, hoping for a good outcome—hoping for any outcome than the one you're expecting.

It takes a moment—five minutes to be exact—but you muster a sliver of courage to push the door open. For some odd reason, you imagined Kenma would be sitting at the edge of the bed, silently brewing in his anger. But instead, he's on the floor, knees up to his chest as he fiddles with his Switch.

And you can't tell if you're annoyed or relieved.

You shut the door behind you before joining him on the floor. You keep your head down, picking off your nail polish while you wait.

Kenma pauses his game, setting it down to the side before completely leaning against the bed, lulling his head back to take a breath. You shut your eyes and you take a deep breath when you feel him shifting in his place to face you.

Here it is. He's going to yell at me, you think.

"What are you plotting?" He asks, not a single trace of irritation found in his voice but rather sheer curiosity dripping from his words. You keep your head down and eyes shut. "You ought to look at someone when they're speaking to you," Your name rolls off his tongue playfully, covered in nothing more than love and sincerity.

You peak an eye at him, lifting your head. "You're not gonna to yell at me?"

"When have I ever yelled at you?" His face contorts in judgement and a little concern, wondering if his girlfriend's broken or just completely stupid. "Why would I yell at you now?"

"I brought home two stray kids..."

"Yes, you did," He says matter-of-factly, "and we need to talk about that. So, can we please talk about that?"

You nod slowly, bringing your knees up to your chest before turning your whole body to face him.

Kenma sinks his elbow onto the end of the bed, cupping his chin for support before he speaks, “Who are those kids and why did you bring them home?"

Kenma looks at you directly, his face emotionless, but a bit softer compared to when you were first standing in the hallway. He blinks at you, waiting patiently till you're ready to speak.

"They were my cousin's kids," You say in a strained whisper. "The—The one that died in the accident." Kenma hums in response, signaling you to keep going. "We weren't close—as you know or else you would've heard a lot more about him—but we felt close enough...given what our family's like..."

Growing up with the kind of family you had and having met everyone from your extended family was kind of like living in a block of ice that never melted; solid in their beliefs, slippery with their anger, and had no room for any other emotion.

You made this very clear to Kenma when you first started dating, especially when he had asked to meet your family. He wasn't one to socialize or even initiate it, but he would do it if it meant doing it for you. But you turned the idea down fast, warned him that there'd be no reason to have to go through all that stress just for you; and though he was just as stubborn as you, Kenma gave in and never brought it up again when he saw how upset you had gotten.

But in chest full of ice cubes, there was your cousin, Akihiro-san. Like you, he was different. He wasn't cold, but he was so genuine and real, you couldn't help but doubt his kindness.

A kindness you failed return when he needed it most. So, when you saw your moment of opportunity, you snatched it, regrettably leaving your boyfriend as an afterthought to your decision.

"I owe it to him, Kenma..." You plead in whisper. "I owe to him because he was the only one who was ever nice to me..."

"These are kids," He counters, dipping his head to meet your glossy eyes. He takes your cheek into the palm of his hand, his thumb tracing circles over your skin. "This would be different if it were a puppy or a plant—but these are living and breathing kids and we know nothing about raising kids. My love, we're only in our twenties..."

"But—"

"You should've called first." He cuts you off, his tone still soft , but firm. You’re at least grateful he’s called you your pet name. "You should've called me and asked."

"You would've said no..."

"How do you know? You never called me." There isn't resentment in Kenma's words. Its still playful and light, but you can feel his hurt and you feel dumb because you know exactly why. "I would've liked to have been included in this decision...especially since this is my home and you are my girlfriend, and you promised that we would make decisions together."

You frown, tears brimming to the surface as you realized what you've done and how you've probably made him feel.You denied him of his choice, and you were silly to believe that it was okay to go over his head and behind his back.

As you whisper a string of apologies, Kenma presses his forehead onto yours, smiling at you. He was angry at first, but not so much anymore.

"Are you going to break up with me?" You sniffle, voice breaking at the thought. "I'd understand if you wanted to break up with me...But I just—I really wanted to help them. I'm so sorry I didn't ask you first, I couldn't just leave them—"

"Shhh," His breath fans against your skin, "I'm not breaking up with you, stupid. Given, this is probably the biggest wild card you've thrown at me by far, but its not enough for me to break up with you."

You hide your face into dip of his neck, sobbing into the material of his sweater, letting go of the strength you had from holding back and stain it with your tears. You had always been reckless, but it never turned him off. He never raised his voice, he always heard you out, and even when you slipped up, he always forgave you in a heartbeat.

It makes you question if you’re deserving of such a love as this.

“I was very angry and very offended,” Kenma begins, “I didn’t like what you did. It made me feel like you couldn’t trust me, and it made me feel like you saw me as some kind of terrible person that would turn away kids that need a home...”

You shake your heard, muttering a “no” to his assumption.

Kenma runs his fingers through your hair and down to your back, soothing you until you've caught your breaths. He'll soft press his lips against the crown of your head, discreetly swiping the little sweat off his lips to keep you from being offended.

"S-So, what do we do about the kids?" Your question muffled but Kenma can hear you just fine.

He sighs, and as he's about to pull you away from his chest, you tighten your hold around his waist. "Please look at me," Your shoulders fall and you pout when you come face to face with him. He chuckles at how ridiculously childish you look, "Do you really want to do this?"

Your eyes widen, "Y-yes. I want to do this, but if you don't want—"

"Better us than anyone else, right?" You blink at him, processing. "I don't know shit about kids, but if you really want to do this, I'll support you. But you can't expect me to be good at this."

Kenma falls onto your shoulder and rests all his weight onto you, letting out a sigh. Panic envelopes his heart, his stomach flipping and churning as he stresses over all the things that's yet to come.

“We’ve been dating for four years, and I’ve just only gotten the hang of you now...” He admits in a heavy sigh.

I'm still a kid, he thinks, groaning. He's plays games all day, forgets to shower, and doesn't know how to cook either. He works from home, rarely goes out unless he needs to or if you want to. Out of the both of you, you're--surprisingly-- more put together than he is.

Can he really do this?

"Please don't expect much from me," He begs, "I don't do well with kids, and you even took in a grown one. What if it doesn't like me or if it forget to feed it?"

You chew on your lip, holding back a laugh and quietly smile to yourself. Vulnerability paints well on your boyfriend, and you wish for even more moments like this.

“I promise it’ll only be until we kind find some other arrangement for them...Something better." You’re not entirely confident in your words, but you understand the idea of having them stay with you isn’t the most sound solution.

"I suppose if we mess up, we'll mess it up together." He says in defeat, sprawling his legs open before wrapping it around you, pulling you as close to him as possible. He cradles your body tightly just as Yuki had done. "You don't understand how unbelievably lucky you are that I love you."

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inkedtae · 4 years

Text

doe’s peak ⇾ ksj. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ gryffindor!seokjin x slytherin!reader (f.)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ e2l, hogwarts au, some fluff, a bit of angst, smut, pwp, filth, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ a series of reckless pranks leads to a dismissal from Hogwarts and a new house guest. two weeks of amity sessions ends on a happier note than expected.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 20.1k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ brief mention of a fire, brief mention of theft, blonde!seokjin, longhair/ponytail!seokjin, pureblood!seokjin, dom!seokjin, brat tamer!seokjin, halfblood(?)!reader, sub!reader, brat!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), rough sex, public sex, outdoor sex, hate sex, degradation, mutual masterbation, double penatration, exhibition, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, heavy humiliation kink, use of vibrating dildo, oral (m. and f. receiving), orgasm denial, bondage, begging, hair pulling, spanking, pussy slapping, manhandling, fingering, edging, cum eating, face fucking, deep-throating, throat-cockwarming (?), cum swapping (?), panty eating (?), a bit of anal, a lil ass and titty play, spit play, a lil food play, basically filth

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ this was supposed to be a fluffy drabble...

･ﾟﾟ･｡ beta’d by ⇾ @kitsutaes (my luff~) & @moonmintrails (my soulmate~)

･ﾟﾟ･｡ le playlist

⟶ please note that, despite still attending Hogwarts, all characters are of consenting age

He smells of tough cedar and sweet cherries. It’s common for his scent to fill the room after a bath. You want to say you despise it but, in fact, you find it quite comforting. It always helps lull you to sleep. You fear that you might have grown too comfortable with it. The last two weeks of his very presence have been much of a bother, but it’s the little things, like the way he smells and the soft patters of his footsteps, that almost make you glad he’s around. You wonder how you’ll be able to fall asleep without him after tomorrow.

Two weeks flew by. You’ve been praying for that reality since Headmistress McGonagall first suggested this arrangement. Both you and Seokjin have been excused from classes for fourteen days, issued off campus and into your home in the muggle world. Magic is prohibited, wands confiscated, but the two of you are still expected to keep up with your class readings and assignments should you both return to Hogwarts.

“Spending intimate time with one another without the temptation of magic will put an end to all these shenanigans,” McGonagall insisted.

Despite the reality of sharing your home and room with someone as insufferable as Kim Seokjin, you're thankful the headmistress didn’t opt for a more serious consequence. After all, you are still under investigation for the fire in the Gryffindor dormitories. Records reflect that it started in Seokjin’s room and witnesses place you at the scene of the crime. And the fact that you’ve admitted to being there, reclaiming letters Seokjin had stolen from you, doesn’t help your case. McGonagall promises to share the results of the investigation once your two weeks with Seokjin come to an end.

A fire was never your intention. Truly, all you wanted was the year’s worth of letters from your family Seokjin kept intercepting. Before finding out he was behind it, you were convinced your family was upset with you. You’ve written to them consistently, telling them you miss them and wondering why they haven’t responded. You found stacks of letters, some opened and read, in his room. You had every intention of sneaking back in at night and levitating his bed into the lake while he’s sleeping as a means of retaliation. Though you were worried he’d found out about your family, about the truth, a fire never even crossed your mind. You’re almost certain you had blown all the candles out before leaving.

Twirling the gold, snake headed pendant of your necklace between your fingers, you wonder if maybe you left one lit subconsciously. Maybe a part of you wanted to set his room on fire, wanted him to suffer as you did when you thought your family was on the cusp of disowning you.

These are dangerous thoughts. You can’t be capable of such destruction. Yes, you might have charmed his broom to launch him into the lake, or dyed his hair blonde through a potion “mistake,” but to set his room on fire is cruel. No matter how badly you want him to keep your secret or how badly you want to get even, you know you would never turn to such an evil act.

With a deep breath, you flip the page of your History of Magic textbook, and attempt to refocus your attention on the Battle of Hogwarts. You try to drown out every sound he makes down the hall, every waft of his scent that trickles into your room. All is well until he decides to enter your shared room without a shirt. Only a simple red towel hangs around his thin waist.

You can’t help but stare. Little droplets stream down his wide chest. Nipples hard; abs tight. You regret to recognize how heavenly he looks. A breathless sigh escapes you as he shakes a smaller towel through his long hair. More drops of water spatter about, but your attention narrows on his arms. Has he always been that muscular?

A single scan over his tall frame soaks your panties. You curse him three times over, having just changed into them. You were clean and ready for bed before he came in looking like that. Damp hair in a loose braid, a soft, flowy nightgown on, face primped and moisturized. All that was left for you to do was some light reading of next week’s topic. Then he comes in, basically naked and wet, making your pussy clench at the sight. Can’t he do anything right? Why the hell didn’t he get dressed in the bathroom?

“Why the hell didn’t you get dressed in the bathroom?”

Seokjin spares you a glance over his shoulder as he walks out to hang the small towel on the railing. You can’t help but drool over the flexing muscles of his back. Hate fills your chest at the awakened desire to run your tongue across the length of his shoulders.

“I forgot to take my clothes,” he shrugs, making his way back into the room. He shuts the door and begins to rummage around the drawers Mama forced you to empty for him.

You mutter a colourful insult under your breath as he pulls on a pair of boxer briefs under his towel. The thought of taking them back off doesn’t surprise you as much as the act of leaning off your bed to sneak a look at his dick. Heat rushes to your cheeks the moment you register your actions. What the hell has gotten into you? Shifting back in your seat, you press your thighs together to attempt to soothe the ache between your legs.

What has come over you? You’ve seen shirtless guys before, been under a few of them too. Not to mention, this is Seokjin. The arrogant, conceded idiot who stole your letters all year and read them. You hate him, you know every part of you does. So why is the sight of him shirtless this captivating?

No, you mentally assert. It’s not Seokjin you’re attracted to; it’s the idea of a shirtless guy - any guy. You’ve been isolated in your house with a daft, alpaca looking pureblood and his pet sugar glider (which is against school rules but he manages to keep one anyways.) You just miss sex. All you have to do is get yourself off and all other thoughts of stupid, shirtless Seokjin will disappear. You decide that once he goes to sleep, you’ll, as quietly as you can, get yourself off under the covers.

Your jaw almost drops when he doesn’t reach for a shirt or pants. Seokjin shuts the drawers and tosses the wet towel that was previously wrapped around his waist in the hamper. The nerve of this fucker. He prances around your room in only his underwear, acting like this is his house, not yours. You set your jaw and raise an unimpressed brow.

When his gaze meets yours, you can’t help but glare. He doesn’t entertain your annoyed antics as he usually does. With heavy eyes and a little yawn, he grumbles, “Shove over.”

You scoff. “Funny.”

“I mean it,” he sighs, flicking up the covers. “I’ve spent the last two weeks on the floor. I earned my time on this bed.”

A hiss escapes you as the cold air hits your smushed, exposed thighs. You snatch the sheets from his hands and cover yourself up again. “That’s ‘cause it’s my bed.”

“Just move over.”

“No.”

Seokjin waves his hand, effortlessly pushing your body aside. With your wands confiscated, the most the two of you can do is wave little commands to practise magic. Before you can react with more than just a gasp, he hops into bed and makes himself comfortable. “Much better,” he smirks.

You can feel his bare legs brush up against yours, but ignore the rise of goosebumps long enough to kick him away. “You’re a fiend, Kim Seokjin. A pureblooded, bottom feeding, prideful... jerk-ing fiend.” You may have stuttered through the last insult, catching yourself getting lost in his eyes, but you believe you’ve made your point clear.

“Prideful jerking?” Seokjin questions with an amused smile. He quirks his head to the side and sighs.

He opens his mouth to offer his opinion but you silence him with the slam of your book and a switch off the lights by the wave of your hand. You know he’s not leaving. He doesn’t even make an effort to move. There’s not much to do except ignore his entire existence and try to get some sleep. Accepting the fate of your night, you set your textbook on your night table and turn to your side with every intention of falling asleep.

But then the bed dips. You raise a brow, thinking he might’ve come to his senses and decided to return to his place on the ground. Only, his side of the bed doesn’t feel lighter. The springs screech as he shifts until the quiet clutter of a soft object hits the hardwood floor.

You hear him spit. Once, twice then the slick sound of slouched wetness fills the room. Breath hitching, you turn back to find him sitting up, back against the headboard and briefless. “Huge,” you whisper, too fixated on his size to even care about his quiet, arrogant chuckles.

You knew Seokjin invented big dick energy, but to see his size, in the fucking dark, and still fear for your pussy is another story. Huge doesn’t even begin to cover it. You’re sure giants don’t even have a cock as big as he does. It isn’t the biggest cock you’ve seen; it’s just quite simply the biggest cock to exist.

“How’d you know I was into being watched?” He asks as he continues to pump himself.

His gruff voice, drenched in lust, has you balling your nightgown. You sit up and pull your knees into your chest, squeezing your legs together. He must be insane, deranged, absolutely idiotic to think he can take up half your fucking bed and then whip out his monster of a cock and expect everything to be okay.

Pussy clenching around emptiness, you reply, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Prideful jerking.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then why’d you say it?”

His hips buckle up into his hands and you can’t help but stare down at his cock again. You swallow thickly, hating the way you crave for his cock to fill that vacant space in your throat.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

You answer too quickly. The desperate desire in your tone, the crack of your voice has not been lost on him. He chuckles to himself and picks up the pace. You can only hover your trembling fingers over your lips, clutch onto your nightgown with your other hand and watch him get himself off with pride.

His large hand wraps around yours, grabbing onto the hem of your nightgown as well. You stiffen. Gazing at him in the soft moonlight, you wonder if he’d make you take over the task of getting him off. You wonder if he’ll guide your hand over his cock and show you how to pace your pumps, or if he’ll have you cup his balls and massage them while he continues to bring himself closer to his orgasm.

But, he doesn’t entertain any of those options. Seokjin, instead, rubs your knuckles and whispers, “I don’t just like being watched; I like watching too.” He then pries the bunched up hem out of your hands and pushes it up to your hips. “Panties off.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” you hiss, breasts heaving from how horny this entire situation is making you. “I’m keeping them on.”

Seokjin raises a brow, as if offering one last chance for you to change your mind. When you simply hold his gaze, he nods and covers himself up again. You can tell he’s still going though, the lifts of the comforter being a dead give away.

“What are you doing?”

“This is a two way street, Little Doe,” he taunts before dragging his tongue across your cheek. You shudder and melt into his frame as he continues, “You’re going to have to give a little to get some.”

A series of insults are on the tip of your tongue, but the stripe of saliva on your cheek is all you can focus on. You want him to do it again, the shame of that craving clear on your face. Seokjin can read right through the glare you then attempt to wear. He grunts quietly as that amused look colours his features.

You can still hear the wet clicks of his pumps, the squeak of the springs when he rolls his hips in his hand. Gulping, you emptily gag on the ghostly imagination of his huge length squeezing into your throat.

He chuckles under his breath. The sound is all too cocky for your liking, jumpstarting your senses once more.

“You’re a fucking prick,” you finally hiss.

“I know you want my dick.”

“You know that’s not what I said.”

Seokjin raises a brow. “You didn’t deny it though, did you?”

You want to curse him, hit him, suck him, screw him- no… A little ride wouldn’t hurt, though. A string of sparkling shivers slither up your spine at the thought of sitting on his cock. Nails in those broad shoulders, tits against his chest, ass smacking his thick thighs.

He smirks. He’s waiting.

Nothing can hold back the pooling wetness of your core, and you refuse to deny it for much longer. Hooking your thumbs into your panties, you lift your hips and shimmy out of them. You’re about to toss them aside when Seokjin nudges your chin. He nods towards your mouth, silently ordering you to shove them in.

“You can’t be serious,” you sigh, voice almost pleading. It’s not enough he’s having you follow orders, but to make you suck on your own soaked panties is just cruel.

He only shrugs. You’re not even worth his words now. The humiliation is getting harder to ignore, your pussy gushing for it with every passing second. With a tiny huff, you shove your panties into your mouth. You taste dirty. You feel it too. But, he finally pulls the sheets back once more, letting you know you’ve earned the treat. A twinge of pride replaces the embarrassment.

Pink tipped, oozing precum, his massive cock slightly curves. You can’t help the satisfied sigh that escapes you. Fingers latching on your pussy, you swirl your wetness around your clit. You’re about to shove two fingers in, eyes locked on his length to catch his warning glare, but he stops you.

“Don’t you dare,” he hisses.

You furrow your brows as if wordlessly asking how the fuck he thinks you can watch him and not be able to finger yourself. You need something in you. He ignores your stares, the little grunts you let out in protest and shifts your fingers back up to your clit.

The curses you want to hurl at him get muffled into your panties. He knows this too well, that smirk on his lips only widening. And though you believe you can do whatever the fuck you want, you keep your fingers around your clit. You’ll take any amount of friction at this point.

“Oh, you can spit that out now,” he shrugs.

You pause. Wasn’t the point of the panties in your mouth to make sure you’re quiet? Seokjin ignores your confused looks, leaning his head back against the headboard. As you drop your panites out of your mouth, his true intentions finally settle upon you. It was never about silencing you, but about humiliating you. Every word he’s uttered since whipping his massive cock out has been an order, all of which you’ve eventually followed.

You glare at him, finally meeting his eye as he lazily looks over at you. “Is everything a game to you?”

Seokjin dips his head into the crook of your neck. You tilt your head up without much thought. His teeth graze your skin, warm tongue soon following to soothe those little bites he leaves behind. You whimper and shudder with every hot breath he fans over you.

How is he doing this so easily? Your fingers pick up their pace with every new jolt of pleasure his mouth brings.

“Slow down,” he whispers while trailing wet kisses along your jawline.

Your mind wants to rebel and rub your clit with twice as much speed and force. However, your body yields to his commands, complying to his every order. You huff angrily, finding yourself defenseless against him. As a weak act of defiance, you rest your leg over his.

He grins. His free hand rubs your inner thigh, making you regret your actions instantly. With every stroke up and down your leg, your pussy only gets wetter, needier for his hand. Your eyes flutter shut, body trembles as you begrudgingly submit your entire being to him.

“Touch me,” you plead.

Seokjin tightens his hold on your thigh. “And what do you call this, Little Doe?”

You whine, forcing your eyes open to meet his gaze. Noses brushing, breaths exchanging, your lips hover over one another. You force your hand off your clit and bite back a mewl from the lost contact. “Touch me,” you repeat, voice only just cracking.

For once, his amused demeanour is nowhere to be found. Seokjin creases all movements. He pauses for a second, scanning your features, then drops his gaze between your legs. In deep thought, he bites his lip. You can’t help the cold vacancy around your pussy, hips slightly rolling up for attention. Seokjin takes your wrist and guides your wet hand to his cock. “Slowly,” he advises.

Fingers hovering over his huge length, you nod. A squeal escapes you as you stroke him. Just from those gentle touches, you can feel how heavy he is. Hand trembling, you wrap your fingers around him and slowly pump.

He sighs against your cheek. You hate how proud you feel, but the kisses he places near your lips distract you enough to melt into him.

“Who knew you were such a good girl?”

“Shut up,” you snap, though your pace on his cock remains steady.

Seokjin trails his fingers up your thigh, to your wetness. You moan upon feeling his fingers circle around your clit. “You’re even wetter than you look,” he whispers.

“I said, shut up.”

A sharp slap to your clit draws a yelp out of you. Though you glare at him, tightening your grip on his cock, he only continues with the smacks. Each one is harder than the last, forcing you to pull your legs to your chest once more.

He chuckles, nudging his nose against yours. “Be a good girl, Little Doe, and spread’em.”

You pout and nudge back. Seokjin presses his lips together, holding back whatever laughter you’ve provoked, then pushes his mouth against yours. The fact that you don’t hesitate to kiss him back surprises you. Up until now, all you thought you wanted was a quick fuck. Now, you can’t imagine how you’ve resisted the urge to kiss him for so long. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, taking control almost immediately. You want to say you’re annoyed but you love the way it feels around yours too much to fight against him any longer.

Slowly, you spread your legs once more. He lands one last smack on your clit then soothes the blissful stinging away by circling his fingers around your pussy again. He’s moving his hand faster than yours, making you moan against his lips.

Seokjin pulls away with a smirk as your moans suddenly tumble into the room instead of his mouth. He laughs while you glare. “Aw, come on, Little Doe,” he purrs. “Aren’t you having fun?”

You pout, biting back moans, and pick up the pace of your pumps around his cock. If he wants to play, you have no problem doing the same thing. His hips buckle into your hand. You’re smirking now... until his hand moves faster. You follow his lead, picking up your pace as he picks up his.

Lowly growling, Seokjin clenches his jaw. “Fucking slut,” he grunts.

“Fucking prick,” you shoot back. However, your insult loses umph with every whining dip in your voice.

That amused look in his eyes is no more. His gaze hardens into something more sinister as he seethes, “Cum.”

You gasp as your hips roll into his hand. “You cum,” you huff.

“Cum!”

“Cum…” Your voice may be losing its strength and authority, but the look in your eyes remains as cold as ever.

Seokjin grins. He must feel your hole clenching, must sense how you’ve been tightening around emptiness, needy for a release. Does he know how horny that rasp in his authoritative voice makes you too? Does he know you’ll most likely be dreaming about him tonight from how his scent has imprinted itself on you?

“You’re pathetic.”

You really fucking are. How quickly did you give into him again? Are you needy to cum or needy for him? Your eyes slightly roll back as your toes curl. You’re getting closer; he’s bringing you closer. Can you really be to blame for yielding so quickly, though? He disarms your confidence within a few words. It feels like you were only cussing him out seconds ago for ordering you to take your panties off. And yet, here you are, on the cusp of cumming because he told you to.

Body quaking, you throw your head back and bite on your lip to keep from screaming his name. Your ograsm hits you hard and quick. Riling beside him, you’ve lost control of your hand around his cock. Your pumps hesitate, losing momentum and speed. Seokjin finds himself having to warp his free hand around yours to make sure he gets off as well.

Your ears are ringing, blood rushing to your head as you gush some more around emptiness. You pretend you’re stuffed though. You imagine his cock deep in, the imprint of his girth bulging from your stomach as you cum. You’re angry with him, with yourself, with how good all this feels. In the midst of uttering a curse, you feel a warm, thick shot of his cum land across your face. Another load paints your breasts and stains your nightgown.

Seokjin’s panting, grunting, trying his best to stay quiet as well. Your hands retract from each other within seconds of riding the other out. You shudder from the last leaks of your orgasm and pull your legs into yourself. All the while, he’s resting his head back and palming himself. As his eyes flutter shut, you can’t help but stare. He looks just as heavenly post-orgasm. A light layer of sweat glistens on his forehead, wet lips seeming kissable one more.

His breathing regulates as he looks over at you. Nothing can fight off your frustration at the sight of that lazy smirk on his face. He points up to his own nose and says, “You got a little somethin- Ow!”

You grunt a smirk after swatting his arm. “Clean it off,” you order between breaths. “Now.”

He raises a brow. “You wanted it so bad. You clean it off.”

“That’s not what I said I wanted.”

Seokjin licks his lips to fight off a smile. “Did you or did you not tell me to cum?”

“By that stupid logic, you have a mess down there you need to clean too.”

To your surprise, he nods. Seokjin shifts, repositioning himself so that he’s in front of you. His strong hands wrap around your ankles and pull them apart before yanking you towards him.

You gasp and fall back into your pillow, looking up at him in astonishment. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Cleaning up my mess,” he shrugs. As he dips his head between your legs, he says with a wink, “I suggest you do the same.”

There’s barely enough time to breath, let alone clean his cum off you, before his tongue latches onto your pussy. He slurps up your cum with vigor, shaking his head between your thighs. Lapping up your juices, sucking on your clit, he seems to change his intention from cleaning up his mess to creating a new one.

Your fingers tangle into his blonde hair, tugging on the long strands as he peeks up at you. Upon finding you’ve done nothing but relish in the sensation of his warm tongue, Seokjin pulls his mouth away from your pussy. You lift your hips up, whining and mewling quietly in hopes that he’d find you just cute enough to continue.

Seokjin pokes his tongue between the gaps of his teeth. In silence, he waits. You know what he wants, but you can’t find it in you to follow another order. He’s somehow managed to melt you into agreeing to every command. You’d rather suck him off than scoop his cum off your face and swallow it.

“Do it.”

“No.”

He huffs. His entire chest puffs out, shoulders rolling back as he leers over you. That usually glint of amusement dissolves into annoyance. “Do it,” he whispers. Though his voice may be quiet, tone soft, his eyes are unforgiving. It’s clear this is your last chance.

You don’t care. “No.”

He’s hovering over you. All you did was blink and he’s hovering over you. Hot, short breaths fan over your face. His tip pokes your lower belly. You’re trembling. His tongue shoots out, swiping across your face. One of his hands shoots to your chin, thumb pushing it down to open your mouth. He gathers some spit with his cum then drops the load into your mouth.

Your right eye twitches, only just rolling back from the taste. You swallow almost immediately and force yourself to ignore the recoiling disappointment of your heart at how easily you give in even after putting up a sad excuse of a fight.

Seokjin repeats the process, licking up the cum across your cleavage now. He pulls down the neckline of your nightgown to make sure he gets every drop. Again, he spits it into your mouth. And, again, you swallow.

You think it’s over now. He has licked up every drop of cum off your skin, after all. But, Seokjin isn’t satisfied until you’ve swallowed it all. He cups your breasts, pushing them up to tighten your gown and licks the cum off it easier. You swallow without hesitation when he spits it into your mouth.

Both his hands come down on your breasts. You jolt, biting your lip to keep from crying out a moan. “Next time,” he starts, groping and massaging your tits. “I won’t be so leintant.”

With your hands over your head, you quietly moan, reveling in the sweet action. You nod to his pathetic warning, knowing that in the end you’ll do whatever the fuck you want. Yet, you can’t find the courage to tell him that.

Seokjin ceases all soft massages and tears your gown. You gasp and grip onto his wrists while looking down at your now exposed breasts.

“What the hell?” You whine in a whisper.

He only smirks before returning to his side of the bed again. Making himself comfortable, he replies, “Sleep well, Little Doe.”

You scoff. He must think you won’t take the gown off, even if it were torn. You can’t fall asleep now knowing he has the upper hand. Sitting up, you pull the night gown off and toss it aside. Seokjin, having one arm tucked under his head, watches you with an amused smile. His eyes devour every exposed inch of you. As you lie back down, you realize you’ve played right into his trap once more. He wanted you just as naked as him.

“You make it too easy,” he chuckles.

“You really are a prick.”

He quirks a brow. “Funny. I don’t see you putting it back on if I’m such a prick.”

You don’t want it on. He knows that. You sure as hell know that. But admitting it would only make that festering anger in the pit of your stomach bubble into your chest. “Just go to sleep, Jin,” you mutter, turning away from him.

You want to believe that your bed has never felt more uneven, uncomfortable, unwelcoming, but you know that’s not the case. You’ve never felt warmer than with Seokjin beside you. His body by yours has been a better comfort than the emptiness you usually find back there. Does he feel it too? Is that why he was adamant on you watching him, joining him, swallowing him? Or was it all just another power play?

He shifts behind you. You stiffen, chewing on your lip. His hand, hesitant and shaky, snakes across your waist. It freezes against your stomach. You gulp and flutter your eyes shut as you rest your arm over his. It’s as though that’s all the confirmation he needs to pull you back into his chest. Steady breaths tickling the nape of your neck, you allow yourself to lean into him.

You tell yourself it’s the exhaustion. But the truth lies behind you, cradling your body against his. Lacing your fingers between his, you whisper, “This never happened.”

Seokjin presses a ghost of a kiss upon the nape of your neck. “Whatever you say, Little Doe.”

The clucks of the hens and spray of the tap cannot drown out his infuriating laughter. He sounds like a choked seal, squealing chuckles uncontrollably. It’s embarrassing. He should be kicked out on that basis alone.

You watch him chat up Mama and one of your aunties by the kitchen island. He makes another one of those stupid puns and they eat it up. Mama throws her head back, laughing along with him. Auntie Hyel chuckles and shakes her head before joining the rest of your family, your four uncles and Baba, outside. It’s as if this dismissal from Hogwarts was not at all his fault. Mama treats him like the son she never had. Laughing at his jokes, feeding him leftover egg and beef from her kimbap rolls; it’s disgraceful. They should both be ashamed of themselves. Everyone living in this house who has even given into his charms should be ashamed of themselves.

You shudder at last night’s memories, knowing you’re one of those people in this house now.

“Morning, dear,” Mama smiles upon finally spotting you on the staircase.

Seokjin turns to face you, that prideful smirk plastered on his all too handsome face. Yes, you realize the cruel oddities of reality. Someone as horrible as Seokjin gets graced with undeniable beauty and you, with your kind heart and good intentions, are offered mediocrity.

He leans his elbows back on the counter. “Little Doe.”

The nickname hits differently now. Phantom shivers trail your spine upon hearing echos from last night. He purred that name one too many times to sit the same again. It used to twist your insides with disgust. But now all you can feel are nervous bursts of desire, and a yearning for his touch and presence like no other.

“Shut it, you gerbil,” you hiss as you make the final step down the stairs.

Your eyes lock on his lips, ghostly sensations of last night’s session all too fresh to ignore. Is it wrong to want them on yours again? Yes. He’s filthy, you remind yourself. Filthy with pride and an ego just as big as his dick. A huff escapes you as your hatred for him resurfaces. It takes everything in you not to shove him off his seat and take it instead. You know better than to do that in front of Mama. She’d smack the both of you with that wooden spoon by her side within seconds.

Mama tsks at your name-calling when you take your seat. You meet her warning stare with caution. As you mutter a half-hearted apology, she sets a fresh cup of tea before you. Much like this morning, you drink the tea in small sips.

“Thanks, Mama,” you mumble against the rim of the cup.

Seokjin stares at you and smiles, “Yeah, Mama, thanks.”

You clench your jaw, keeping your eyes trained on the bento lunch boxes Mama prepares for your last amity meeting with Seokjin and Professor Trelawney. Since the two of you have met with your professor, you’ve broken every rule set by her. Insults are hurled consistently, taunts are made, threats are promised. The only thing the two of you haven’t done is prank each other. It’s too risky and the both of you can’t tolerate another second cut off from your friends.

“Do you two think you can keep the teasing to a minimum today?” Mama asks as she wraps each box. “The headmistress is dropping by after lunch to tell you if you’ll be returning to Hogwarts.”

You furrow your brows as you set the teacup down. Seokjin turns to face Mama with the same expression. “What do you mean? I thought that after the amity sessions, we’d be able to go back.”

Mama avoids your gaze as she tucks a set of chopsticks under the wrapped knot. “Well, the amity sessions are not the only thing the headmistress has been looking into, (Y/N). You still have that fire to answer for.”

“This again,” you roll your eyes. Mama glares at you. “Sorry, it’s just you know I didn’t start it. Even Jin knows I didn’t.”

Seokjin remains silent, looking down at his cup of coffee. Mama looks between you and him then raises a brow. “I think poor Jin’s been through enough,” she coos at him before rubbing his shoulder.

This is unbelievable. You’ve never really talked to him about it, but you just knew that he couldn’t possibly think that little of you, especially after last night. You know what you said, what you indirectly made him promise, but your words can’t erase that memory. Or, at least, it hasn’t for you. And now Mama is coddling him from you. You’re apparently the monster in his life, the conniving serpent that has plagued him and set fire to his stupid dorm.

Up until now, you’ve regretted snooping around in his room for your letters, regretted even setting foot in his common room. You know you didn’t start that fire, but you’d be happy if you did. It’s the least he deserves for cutting you off from your family and now stealing them right from under you.

Tilting your head back, you chug whatever is left of your tea. It scorches your tongue, but nothing burns more than the betrayal in your heart. Hopping off your seat, you set the teacup in the sink to be washed by the sponges you’d charmed. Mama senses your shift in demeanour and follows you to the broom closet.

“He misses his family too, you know,” she says as you grab your broom. “Don’t you remember what it was like to not have your family with you?”

You shut the closet, not bothering to grab Seokjin’s broom for him, and turn to face Mama. “You mean when he stole my letters? He’s the one that should be investigated. You know I didn’t start-”

Mama places her hands on your shoulders, silencing you immediately. To your surprise, she pulls you into her chest and hugs you tightly. “Please, (Y/N),” she whispers.

You’re not sure what she’s asking of you but you nod anyways. To show her to really understand, the moment she pulls away from you, you open the closet once more and grab his broom as well. She smiles and places a sweet kiss upon your forehead.

Wrapping her arm around your shoulders, Mama guides you back into the kitchen. “You two take care now,” she smiles.

You hand Seokjin his broom. He doesn’t even have the decency to thank you. “You’re welcome,” you bitterly spit under your breath.

He ignores you.

Mama is halfway up the stairs when she calls out to the both of you to have a great day. You grab your lunch and backpack then make your way to the door. Mounting on your broom, you don’t bother to wait for him and commence your last flight to Witching Wits, a wizarding cafe in the small muggle town nearby.

Gusts of the wind and the scent of asphalt fills the space between you and Seokjin as you enter the little town. Your brooms are charmed to cloak you in with your environment so you’re invisible to a muggle’s eye. Seokjin doesn’t bother to race you to the roof of the cafe as he usually does. He hasn’t even so much as tossed you a look of any kind. You slow down just to give him a reason to speed up, but he doesn’t take the bait. And when you finally reach the rooftop, and dismount off your brooms, he doesn’t tap the edge of his broom on the green bricked chimney.

You raise a brow. A line of questioning already forms in your mind, but you decide against voicing it. You don’t care, and why should you? He was the only that brought you into this mess, made you dive into every impulse. This time you’re going to go against your desires and curiosity. Tapping rhythmically on the edge of the chimney, the bricks shift into stairs that descend into the cafe. You lead the way in, not bothering to look over your shoulder to make sure he’s behind you. You’ve had enough of him already. Besides, his footsteps are a clear sign that he’s following along just fine.

Professor Trelawney is late… again. She hasn’t been on time since these sessions began. You’ve never hated moments alone with Seokjin more than you did today. Wordlessly, you place your broom on the rack by the entrance and find an empty table in the corner.

The routine is simple enough and you hate to think you’ve grown comfortable with it. You sit across from each other. Notebooks out, quills in hand or laying by an empty page, and Marina, the morning shift’s waitress, jumping back and forth from the counter to your table because she can’t seem to remember that neither of you have ordered anything.

“Actually,” Seokjin cuts in when you decline to see a menu. “I’ll have a butterbeer with a shot of espresso.”

Face scrunched in disgust, you push past his revolting order and say, “But you already had coffee at home.”

Home. Is it his home? He blinks at the word, furrowing his brows at you. He sure has made it into his home; charming your family, taking your bed, eating your food.

“I want another,” he shrugs once that disarmed look in his eye disappears. “How about we pretend I never had one to begin with. Would that make you feel better?”

Fear flushes whatever expression previously took over your features. You arch a brow and ask, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Seokjin shrugs. He sits back and twirls his quill between his fingers, watching you carefully.

You cross your legs, draping the short, flowy shirt of your white dress over your thigh. “It must’ve meant something, or you wouldn’t have said it.”

“Does that same logic apply to actions?”

You know exactly what he’s referring to now. Pursing your lips, you bite back any insults that are begging to be thrown at him. Instead of giving into the subject he’s adamant on discussing, you bring up one he’s been avoiding since your arrival. “What was the point in stealing my letters?”

“I could ask you the same question about the fire.”

You huff. Why must he be this difficult? “You know I didn’t start it.”

His shoulders rise and fall again. Those shrugs are starting to really test your patience. On the cusp of tossing Mama’s advice out the window, Professor Trelawney's clunky footsteps echo down the brick staircase. Before she can make her way to your table, you lean in and whisper, “I hate you, I really do, but I’d never put you in that sort of danger, Jin. I’m not deranged.” With how much time you’ve spent thinking about his lips this morning, you might rethink that last claim, but you stay firm on your words.

Seokjin tilts his head and quirks a brow at your last statement. You throw him a blank stare as Professor Trelawney makes her way towards your table.

“I know,” he whispers.

He knows. He knows and you’re still under investigation. Has he told McGonagall this? If he vouches for you then you can’t possibly lose your place at Hogwarts. You don’t have much time to ask him, however, as Professor Trelawney drops her heavy bag on the table.

“Ah, Morning!” she smiles. Her eyes widen with delight behind those thick rimmed glasses. You hesitantly smile back, sneaking a glance at Seokjin.

He replies with a quiet, “Good morning, Professor,” before meeting your gaze again. The usual cocky remark, arrogant approach, and amused looks are absent from his, dare you think, kind face. He seems so genuine in his stare that you almost regret asking him to forget about last night. You clearly haven’t.

Marina returns with Seokjin’s order as Professor Trelawney takes a seat and pulls out her calming crystals. “Oh, is that a butterbeer with an espresso shot?” She asks with curious eyes. Before Marina can confirm, Professor Trelawney says, “I’ll have one too.”

Seokjin throws you a cocky smirk. A silent “I told you so,” dances in his gaze. You roll your eyes and sit back in your seat.

As Professor Trelawney continues to line up the crystals, she suggests starting these sessions as you always have. “Deep breath in then out and let the other know something you admire about them.”

You share an annoyed look with Seokjin, sighing deeply when he refuses to start... again. He always pulls the quiet card, knowing you’ll be the first to lose your patience and say something that gets mistaken as an effort to get the ball rolling.

“Very good, Miss (L/N),” your professor smiles. “But this time add something you like about Mr. Kim.”

You don’t bother correcting her. Instead, you sit up straight and take a deep breath in. On the exhale you say, “I really admire the way you always test my patience.”

Seokjin glares. He inhales deeply then lets out, “I really admire the way you never let things go.”

Marina returns with Professor Trelawney’s order and they share a concerned look as you carry on with the exercise, saying, “I really admire how stupid you are.”

“I admire how annoying you are.”

“I admire your laziness.”

“I admire your cruelty.”

You furrow your brow, ball your fist and bite back the curses threatening to slip out. Cruelty? Didn’t he just say that he believed you’d never actively put him in any danger? Was he just saying anything to try and get you to bend to his every command again? Lips trembling, you reply, “I admire your dishonesty.”

Professor Trelawney takes a sip from her butterbeer, upper lip coated with foam, then lets out a shaky breath. “Well, that was a good start,” she tries her best to smile, setting her cup down. “Given that it’s our last day, let’s try doing this exercise right just once, hmm?”

Mama’s words trickle back to you. You want to make her proud, to continue your studies at Hogwarts, but he’s just so frustrating. And a part of you knows that even if you make an effort to show Professor Trelawney how you’ve progressed these last few days, it wouldn’t change a thing. The results of your investigation are still pending, no thanks to Seokjin.

“Now, let’s try using positives. Mr. Kim, why don’t you start us off this time?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you resist the urge to scoff. He’s been silent since the beginning for a reason. If you give into insults first, he has the excuse of defending himself when he shoots one back. And though you know this every well, it only makes you want to swear at him even more.

Seokjin huffs, twirling his quill between his fingers. Breathing in deep, he says, “I admire your determination.”

Lies.

Swallowing your curses, you reply, “I admire your resilience.”

Seokjin pauses. He tilts his head at you, eyes narrowing. Scanning your features, he seems to be searching for signs of deceit. Expressionless, you stare back. He must’ve interpreted your lack of emotion for sincerity as his gaze softens. Sitting up, he licks his lips to hide a little smile. “I admire your passion.”

When has he ever seen you so passionate? This really is a joke to him; you’re a joke to him. You open your mouth to call him out for his lies when the strangest look surfaces on his face. You’re not certain what it is, but you can tell that it lacks defense and hostility. He’s radiating warmth. Lips in a… kind smile, he awaits your reply. Could he… Could he really be serious?

“I admire your ability to charm a room.”

Perhaps he heard something too raw in your voice, his brows momentarily shooting up. Have you been too honest?

“I admire your honesty.”

You have been too honest. Now, you’ve never been more confused. Does he or does he not believe you? You only wish you can ask.

Professor Trelawney giggles into her half empty cup. “Well done,” she smiles, more foam coating her upper lip. Neither you nor Seokjin make an effort to let her know, sharing a knowing smile. The professor doesn’t think too much of it, though. She simply assumes her efforts are finally sinking in.

“Let’s pick up where we left off yesterday.”

You flip back to yesterday's page. The last two weeks have been a series of attempting to compliment each other and recording all the pranks the two of you have pulled during this school year alone. Only two more pages, out of twenty-five, remain. Each of you must state the prank, explain why you did it and why you regret doing it. You have yet to receive an apology for all the crap he’s done to you… you also have yet to issue one yourself.

“We last stopped with you, Mr. Kim. What’s the next prank on your list?”

Seokjin chews on his lip. “Blonde hair,” he mutters, playfully glaring your way.

Professor Trelawney leans forward. She inspects his hair, asking, “That’s not natural?”

No. What seems to be natural, however, is how good any colour of hair seems to look on him. You had intentionally intended to dye his hair pink. But, when you “accidently” spilled a bit of potion all over his head, he only looked better. The colour didn’t even clash with his red uniform. So, you quickly threw some mint leaves in and spilled some more over his head. Teal looked better than the pink. As a last ditch effort, while Professor Slughorn made his way to you, you tossed some butterscotch strings in and poured it all over his head again. The blonde stuck, striking beauty from every angle.

“That was not supposed to happen,” you confess with a smile playing on your lips.

“You poured that disgusting potion on me three times. I think you knew exactly what you were doing.”

Well, at least something good came from trying to dye his hair. He may have looked good but the potion sure as hell didn’t feel that way. “You mixed up my schedule. I was late for astronomy six times,” you explain as a means of an excuse.

“That’s because you charmed your necklace to hiss at every girl I tried to date.”

You shrug. “Someone needed to warn them how slimy you are.” Professor Trelawney clears her throat. “Were,” you correct. “How slimy you were.”

The professor rubs her temples. “No,” she sighs. “Don’t you have something to say to Mr. Kim?”

You’ll be damned if you apologize first. He’s the one that started all this; he should be the one apologizing. And, if you’re satisfied enough with his groveling, you might consider issuing an apology for your actions as well.

“For what it’s worth,” you start. Seokjin raises a brow. Professor Trelawney holds her breath. “My plan backfired. I only kept pouring the potion over you because you look great in every colour.”

An exhausted sigh escapes your professor. She tries to remain positive however, smiling and nodding as she moves the conversation along. “And what about this necklace charming ordeal?”

“What about it?”

“Why did you charm the snakes on your necklace to hiss at his girlfriends?”

You pause. Why did you do that? You remember that it was a week before the Yule ball. Mitch, a fellow Slytherin, was in the middle of asking you something. You don’t exactly remember the details of that conversation. However, you do remember watching Seokjin over Mitch’s shoulder. He was being all too enchanting, courting Rina, who is possibly the kindest Hufflepuff you’d ever met. You remember watching her swoon and watching him notice.

Your heart festers with a familiar rage. The charming spell comes to you in a hard wave once again, just as it did that day.

“He reordered my notes,” you lie.

“That was the excuse you used when you bought four hundred chocolate frogs in my name and released them into the Gryffindor common room,” Seokjin points out.

You avoid his narrowing gaze as both he and Professor Trelawney await the truth. Why did you do that? Why did you do that? The question circles around your head, excuses nowhere to be found. Nothing even really came of it. He ended up going to the ball with Rina anyways. And you went with Jimin since he’s your best friend and the only person you can tolerate being around for an entire night. Had you wanted Seokjin to take you instead? You internally cringe at the thought.

“I don’t know,” you finally answer.

Silence falls over the table. You can’t meet their eyes, fearing they may see something you’re trying to bury deep within you. Professor Trelawney curls her lips in. Furrowing her brows, she asks, “Well, do you regret your actions?”

“Yes.”

Perhaps it’s the lack of hesitance in your reply, or the firmness in your tone. Either way, Professor Trelawney believes you. She carries along with the session. You and Seokjin go back and forth for the next couple of hours, crossing out every prank you finish addressing.

Finally, your latest pranks remain.

“How about we start with how you found out Seokjin had your letters?”

You swallow thickly. This happens to be the choppiest part of your story, according to the headmistress. “Someone,” she had said. “Someone told you?”

“Someone told you?” Professor Trelawney echoes when you repeat yourself to her.

You nod.

“Who?” Seokjin immediately questions.

“Someone.”

“Mitch?”

How the fuck did he know that? Did Mitch tell anyone else? But if he made you promise not to say anything, then why would he go tell others? Setting your jaw, you repeat through gritted teeth, “Someone.”

“Jimin?”

“No!”

“So, Mitch then?”

How does he keep doing that? You furrow your brows, exhaling sharply from your nose. What’s got him thinking it was Mitch to begin with? Had he maybe overheard Mitch telling you about it in the great hall? But, if that was the case, why didn’t he put in a better effort in hiding them? He just left them unattended in the first drawer of his night table, opened and vulnerable to any other prying eyes.

Fear of someone else finding out about you and your family returns in sharp pains of your gut. You shift your crossed arms down to your stomach between shaky breaths. “Why are you certain it’s him?”

Seokjin smirks. “You had no problem denying that it was Jimin. Saying it’s not Mitch seems to be a struggle for you.”

It’s your fault for underestimating his intelligence. Yes, you constantly tell him he’s stupid, but you both know that’s not the case. And it’s the fact that you know how smart he is and that he knew better than to steal your personal property and invade your privacy only furthers your hatred towards him. Sighing, you reply, “It doesn’t matter who told me. What I would like to know is why you had to read them?”

All colour drains from his face. “I didn’t.”

You scoff, running your tongue between the gaps of your teeth. It’s vital that you keep your temper in check. You know that if you cause a scene now, you’d only look even guiltier. “Why were the letters opened then?”

“Look, I didn’t read them,” he huffs.

The atmosphere only darkens around your table, thickening with each trembling breath the two of you take. Professor Trelawney hisses at the sight of your auras and begins to flail her hands about, cleansing them from all that negative energy. You know things are starting to get out of control when an entire room of magical creatures look towards your table with concern and confusion.

Glancing at Seokjin, you can’t help but glare. Everything he’s done, everything he’s said before this point has contradicted itself. He says he believes you, but won’t vouch for you. He says he never read your letters, but opened them anyways. He says the right things before bed, looks the right way, touches you in the right places, but then can’t meet your gaze the next morning. In all fairness, you had told him to forget about last night in so many words. However, his withdrawal from certain conversations is not lost on you. And it is for this reason that you cannot stomach to look at him any longer.

“I need some air,” you suddenly mutter, cutting Professor Trelawney off. Lost so deep in thought, you hadn’t even realized that she was talking.

“Alrigh-”

The screech of your chair cuts her off once more. The sad look on her face fills your heart with guilt. You hesitantly rest a hand on her shoulder and mumble, “Thank you for cleansing my aura. I feel a bit better with all that negativity gone.”

Professor Trelawney smiles up at you. She holds onto your elbow and nods. “Of course, dear. You enjoy your lunch now.”

Forcing a smile, you pull your hand away from your professor. The intimacy is getting more and more uncomfortable. The most feeling you’ve put into anyone else was last night, and that’s not a fact you’re proud to admit.

In seconds, you’re abandoning all feelings and thoughts. You turn your ink lid close tight and toss it into your bag with all your other things. In your peripherals, you can see Seokjin rushing to do the same. If he thinks he’s going to ruin your only moment alone with excuses, he’s sadly mistaken. Grabbing your lunch, you make your way to the broom rack and take the first familiar broom you see. Up the green brick steps you go, and under the wind you fly away from Witching Wits cafe; away from Kim Seokjin.

The flight to Doe’s Peak is long, but worth the time. You land atop the highest hill, amongst the tallest grass. You’ve tossed glances behind you all throughout the flight, making sure Seokjin wasn’t following you. Now that you’ve made it though, alone with only the wind’s mocking melodies for company, you partly wish he had followed you.

Dismounting off your broom, you let it fall by your feet. You’ve snuck away to this hilltop since the first amity session. You needed a breather then too after a heated argument about whether or not you taught Professor Flitwick’s frogs to follow Seokjin around and sing ominous notes every time he entered a room. You did, but no one needed to know that. You let your words get the best of you then too.

Pulling out a white, red striped sheet from your bag, you shake it out and lay it on the floor. After one too many trips here, you’ve learned to come prepared. Actually, before these amity sessions, you haven’t flown up here in awhile. You used to always run away to this hilltop since it had the best view of the entire muggle town on one side and the country roads on the other.

A large forest separates the peak from the countryside. As you sit yourself down on the thin blanket and unwrap your lunch, you remember tricking both the country and townspeople that a beast lurked these parts. It was before you realized you had magic. You came on a hiking trip with your family and fell in love with the scenery. You wanted to keep it all to yourself, so you attempted to roar into the forest. You were only seven; how were you supposed to know that you’d sound more like a bear than you intended to? By some twist of fate or another, you got what you wanted: an eyeful of scenery for your viewing only.

You face the town now, watching the muggles bustle around in the distance. With a mouthful of kimbap, you pull your portable green radio out of your bag and flick it to life. A reply of the last quidditch game sounds. Slytherin against Gryffindor. Hearing the game all over again, you can’t help but sigh. You should’ve been there, batting bludgers towards Seokjin. He’s a seeker, but that’s never stopped you from swinging your bat towards him before.

“Slytherin scores again! Gryffindor’s only chance to win now lies with the golden snit-”

You switch the radio off with a wave of your hand. Another second of this rerun and you might just chuck the radio down the hill.

The wooden sign at the edge of the hilltop creaks from the forces of the wind. Shoving the last piece of kimbap into your mouth, you glance up at it. The hill was named Theodore’s Peak, but the other letters had fallen off long before you were born. Now, despite the discolored outline of the previous letters, the sign reads Doe’s Peak.

It’s a bit ironic, you think as you scarf down the last little bits of egg in your lunch box. The hill belongs to you and your patronus is a doe. Now, if only Seokjin could let that go.

Ah, Seokjin. Why can’t you go a single moment without his name on the tip of your tongue? Is he really that infuriating, that intoxicating that he needs to be entrenched in your every thought? Full of anger and frustration, you look back out at the town and inhale deeply. On the exhale, you scream at the top of your lungs. Screwing your eyes shut tight, you let every drop of rage out in a long scream.

When you’re done, you shut your bento box, wrap it up tight and push it aside. You, then, mentally vow to go the rest of this lunch not thinking about Kim Seokjin while reaching into your bag to search for your peach. If this is to be your last few moments as a witch, the results of your investigation still pending, then you’ll spend them admiring your favourite place, alon-

A snap of a branch chills your blood. No one dares hike through the woods. You slowly turn your head down to the forest. Squinting, you notice a figure trying, and failing, to hide behind a tree trunk. Clenching your jaw, you attempt to swallow your anger. But then he laughs.

“Get lost, gerbil face!” You shout.

“What?”

“GET LOST!”

“COME UP?”

He’s doing this on purpose. Before you can yell curses, he flies up to where you are, dismounting by your broom. You roll your eyes, finally grabbing hold of your peach in your bag and pulling it out. Your bag tips over, but you pay it no mind. You’re all too consumed by Seokjin and his returning cocky smirk.

“Get lost,” you repeat before taking a big bite out of your fruit. You don’t bother to spare a glance up at him.

Seokjin takes this as an invitation to sit. His eyes flicker from your bag to you. “You took my broom.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “So, you hid down there and watched me eat?” You ask around your food.

“I’m not some creep.”

“You did follow me up here.”

He lets out a flustered sigh, looking out into the town. “I heard you yelling. Forgive me for wanting to make sure you were okay.” Tone drenched in sarcasm, he avoids your confused gaze.

You open your mouth to call bullshit, but pause. Though you’d hate to admit it, that does sound like something he’d do. He’s a douchebag, but an honourable one. No matter how much he hates you, he’d never let you face a dangerous situation alone. Or, at least, you hope he wouldn’t. So, instead of insulting him or calling him a liar, you take another bite of your peach.

“You come up here a lot?” He asks.

You ignore him.

He hums quietly. Then, reaches his hand back. “Is this why?”

Mid eye roll, mid chew, you freeze. He holds your dark green dildo in his hand, examining it in the bright afternoon sun like it’s some rock he found laying around. You know it’s big, having selected it on it’s size alone, but it looks small in his hand. You drop your peach, choke on the bites you try to swallow and lunge to grab that toy out of his hand. The only reason you’ve kept it in your bag was to keep it out of his sight.

Seokjin laughs as he holds it high out of your reach. You scamper around over his lap like a little dog in desperate need for a treat. “Down, girl,” he teases with a smirk.

Your arousal instantly pools between your legs at the reference. Though riddled with humiliation, you can’t fight the angry desire coursing through your veins. One of your peach juice stained hands suddenly wraps around his neck. You gently squeeze, ignoring the shudder of pleasure that runs down your spine at the gulp of his adam’s apple.

Eyes locking, he raises a brow. Is that a challenge? Does he not think you can squeeze any harder? Despite being fueled by rage, you only just tighten your grip around his neck.

He scoffs.

You add your other hand, threatening, “I’ll do it.”

He smirks. “I dare you.”

Without much hesitance, your grip tightens. Seokjin moans. A gasp escapes you, turning his pleased groans into laughter. He just needs one hand to push both yours off him. Then your throat is caught in his grasp. He squeezes without warning, smirking down at you as he whispers, “That’s how you choke a brat.”

Chest heaving, straggled moans pour out of you. Seokjin must’ve thought the buttoned dress was too constricting around your breasts. He raises his brows as he looks down at your cleavage and grazes the buttons. You take this as a silent request to continue. Against your better judgement and the anger that wants to tear him apart, you nod.

He wastes no time on anymore reassurances. Button after button is unclasped. Your bra becomes more and more exposed. His grip tightens as the sleeves fall off your shoulder. He reaches behind you, hovering his lips over yours, and loosens your bra. Exchanging his breath for yours, he purrs, “Take it off.”

“You want it off so bad; you take it off.”

Echoing his words from last night, with your own variation of course, is possibly the deadliest thing you could do. Seokjin pulls your bra down, the straps falling off your shoulder too, and slaps one of your breasts.

You hiss, glaring at him. He takes the look as another challenge, smacking your other breast much harder than the last.

“Jin!”

His gaze lacks remorse. With another couple of slaps on each breast, he seethes, “Take the bra off.”

You huff through your nose. He tightens his grip. There’s only so much of this you can resist. Licking your lips, you push the sleeves of your dress off to finally remove your bra. Though your top half is exposed, the cool, late spring breeze hardening your nipples, your bottom half is still concealed under the skirt of your dress.

Seokjin releases your throat with a shove. You fall back on your elbows with a squeal. There hasn’t been a moment, a word hissed, a breath exchanged that you haven’t glared at him for. Sitting up, you have every intention of shoving him back. However, the moment you push yourself up, your lips find his. You want to say that you fought as hard as he did to be the one to have the upper hand, but you know you can’t. Not even a half-hearted effort was put into being the one to leer over the other. You surrendered within seconds, laying back down on the sheet as his frame hovered over yours.

He breaks the kiss and stretches his head back. You follow the silent command, instantly latching your wet lips onto his soft skin. You kiss, suck, lick at the sensitive flesh of his neck as he trails a hand down to your pussy. A little chuckle escapes him when he finds that you’re pantiless.

“Were you hoping I’d find you?” he asks. You bite down on his collarbone, earning yourself a smack on you pussy. “No panties and a fucking toy,” he whispers. “If you wanted me this badly, you should’ve just said so.”

Why does he have to waste such precious time running his mouth? You’re both needy for a fuck. Why won’t he just let that be it? There doesn’t have to be some sort of secret meaning hidden within every kiss received or touch offered.

Pulling your face out of the crook of his neck, you part your lips to tell him to just shut up and fuck you, when he adds, “That’s why you scared Rina away, right? And the others too?”

You flinch upon hearing her name.

Seokjin smirks. He cups your pussy and hums a quiet moan at the wet heat it radiates. “I really didn’t think you were the jealous type.”

You’re so ashamed, you can’t even meet his gaze to glare at him. Burying your face back into the crook of his neck, your clutch onto his broad shoulders and seethe, “Shut up.”

He pets your clit one stroke at a time. Eyes rolling back, you lean into his frame and hold on tight. You know he’s being gentle now, but if you learned anything from last night, it’s that Seokjin’s mood changes with the wind. His free hand wraps around you, further pressing your body into his. Only when your bare breasts are smushed against his covered chest do you realize that he’s still fully clothed. He’s never looked better in a white shirt and some jeans but you’d just wish he’d stop with all these games and strip enough to fuck you already.

Cupping your pussy again, he asks, “Do you want my cock, Little Doe?” You roll your hips into his hand and eagerly nod. Seokjin tightens his hold on your heat, drawing a little grunt out of you. “Then, answer the question, you dirty slut.”

“Yes, I want you,” you sigh, answering the second question. Though you know that’s not what he wanted you to reply to, you hope your lack of hesitance to confess other truths would be enough to end this line of questioning all together.

It’s not.

That hand he has on the small of your back, cradling you close to his frame, shoots up to your hair. He tugs on it, pulling your face out from the crook of his neck. You cry out in surprise. Shame rises from your gut at the realization that you love this rough act more than you should. Craning your neck more than necessary, he whispers against your lips, “Just be a good fucking girl for once, you pathetic brat, and tell me the truth.”

Closing your eyes, you let out a shaky breath. You might have to admit your most shameful secret, but you refuse to look him in the eye while doing it. “Fine,” you huff. Voice trembling, you admit, “I was jealous.”

Seokjin places a soft kiss on your chin, a stark contrast to the rough grip he has on both your pussy and hair. “Good,” he mutters against your jawline. “Now, look me in the eye and say it again.”

A new rush of arousal pools into his hand. You feel him smirk against your skin. He knows all too well about your infatuation to be humiliated not to draw out every second of it.

You slowly open your eyes to meet his amused ones. “I was jealous,” you repeat with a shudder. The words sound even more pathetic the second time around. The little cracks in your voice don’t soothe the sting of that fact. “I hate you.”

Seokjin smiles. “Don’t ruin all your progress now, Little Doe. You were doing so well.”

“Fuckin-”

He shuts you up with a kiss. You don’t even have the strength within you to not give into him. What more do you have to stand for? Your pride? He’s clearly trampled all over it. Your hatred? You’re slowly starting to question the legitimacy of that feeling because kissing him has made you feel refreshed with giddy desire. And feeling him has ignited every nerve on fire. It feels similar to hate, you know it does. It twists your guts and crushes your heart. It weighs down on your chest and shatters any belief in any other possibility but him. When he kisses you, when he holds you, when he plays with you like this, all you can believe in is him.

The harsh grip on your scalp softens and softens until it’s no more. His hand releases your hair and trails around to your chin. He holds you by your jaw as he lays you down on the sheet. After another soft kiss, he removes his hand from your pussy and reaches for that long, smooth curved dildo instead. Much to his amusement, a little giggle escapes you. Your defenses have fallen sometime between the first use of slut and that second kiss. You should be ashamed by the fact that you’re visibly eager to be ruined by him but you aren’t. In fact, you relish in the fact that you’re excited for him to see you so vulnerable, so submissive. And he seems to enjoy that too.

Seokjin leers over you with a little smile. He pulls your jaw open and shoves the toy into your mouth. You hold his gaze while swirling your tongue around the heavy object. He pushes your hair back, admiring the way you gag every time he shoves the toy further into your mouth without warning. Tears only just prick your eyes when he finally pulls it out

“Was that too much?”

You shake your head.

He nods and moves the toy down. You spread your legs wider in anticipation. The two of you watch as he runs the side of the dildo between your folds before pushing it in.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you rest your head back down on the ground. Your pussy’s already clenching around it. His other hand wanders around your torso, slapping and groping your breasts. With your arms up over your head, you roll your hips up into his hand, desperate to make him move the dildo or, at the very least, turn it on.

“You want me to move it?”

“Yes.”

He smirks. “Suck my dick.”

Your eyes widen, glancing between him and his crotch. “The whole thing?” The moment the question leaves your lips, you internally cringe. The whole thing, you mockingly think. Why the fuck would he want half his dick sucked?

Seokjin chuckles. “If you think you can take it, yeah.” He nods down to his belt and says, “The whole thing.”

You gulp. Though the task is daunting, you can’t ignore how empty your throat feels. Chewing on your lip, you undo his pants and push it down to his knees with his underwear as well. His huge cock springs out, smacking you in the face.

“Ah~,” you gasp.

He only chuckles, positioning the tip in your already open mouth. Maybe he’s getting impatient, or maybe he just likes the fact that the moment his dick seems to appear, your jaw drops. Either way, you start sucking on his tip, swallowing his precum, and he watches you, a pleased smirk plastered on his face.

Propping up on your elbows, you level your face with his hips. It’s a bit easier to suck him off now, but you don’t dare get carried away. Already your jaw aches from his weight alone. Sucking and slurping, you lose yourself in your task to even realize that the toy’s moving inside you.

It’s not enough. It’s not the same. With his cock in your mouth, his girth and a quarter of his length down your throat, you just know that nothing can compare to this. That dildo, the one you’ve been using for a couple of years now, the one that has made you squirt more times than you can count, only seems like a poor excuse for a toy now.

You bring your hand up to his cock, pulling him out of your mouth for a breather. Quiet moans escape you, but it’s mainly due to the way he tastes. Jerking him off, you look up at him, pout your lips and ask, “Turn it on?”

Bringing his brows together, Seokjin licks his lips. “It turns on?”

You nod. He starts to shake his head at your request, but you open your mouth once more and smack his tip on your tongue. He pauses. You do it again and again, moaning erotically in hopes that the image would be pronogrpahic enough for him to finally agree.

For once, your plan works.

Seokjin mutters, “Turn it on then.”

You squeal in delight, waving a hand down towards your crotch to get the dildo started. It hums loudly, vibrating harshly against your walls as you set it to the highest intensity. He raises a brow down at the toy.

Worried he’d catch onto your actions, you quickly return to your ordered task. You deep-throat as much of him as you can without much of a warning and pump the rest of his cock at a quick, harsh pace. All the while, you're holding his gaze. However, even with the sight of tears streaming down your face and a mouthful of dick, Seokjin remains sharp and focused.

The moment you turned that vibrator on, he ceased all movements. Holding it still in your pussy, he watches you devour his cock to overcompensate for the fact that you indirectly disobey him. But judging by the cocky look in his eyes, you’re starting to think this is exactly what he thought would happen.

Realization hits you, mid-slurp, and you stop all movements. Warming his cock in your throat, you glare up at him through your blurry vision. This entire time you’ve been playing right into his hand. And why are you even taken aback by this discovery? You know you love it. He knows you love it. Why are you finding that so hard to admit yourself?

You’re about to pull him out but he holds onto the back of your head and pushes you back down on him. Gags vibrate around his cock at the same rate the toy buzzes in you. It’s uncontrollable and all he does is grunt and growl, throwing his head back. Seokjin knows he’s pushing your limits right now, but he doesn’t seem to care. Only when you grip onto his thigh does he let you go.

Wet and slobbery, you swallow mouthfuls of oxygen even while his tip rests on your tongue. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were the toy in this situation, not whatever’s vibrating in your pussy right now.

Seokjin takes the dildo out of you while gently nudging you to lay back down. “You’ll be a good girl now? You won’t try anything else?”

You scoff. “How is it fair that you get to play around all you want?”

Holding your gaze, he presses the edge of the toy against your clit. You instantly cry out and roll your hips into it. He then pulls it away and watches you whine and huff in frustration.

“That’s why.”

Wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you roll your eyes. “I can do that too.”

“You already did,” he points out, referring to your little attempt to try to distract him from the fact that you turned it on to any intensity you wanted. “Do I need to remind you how that turned out for you?”

Then it hits you. He wasn’t playing around; he was punishing you. A string of curses loops in your mind at how stupid you’ve been. You should’ve tried to humiliate him back, degrade him just as well as he had degraded you. You shouldn’t have inflated his ego like this. You shouldn’t have disregarded the one thing that has kept him in your life for this long; your pride.

Crossing your arms under your breasts, consequently pushing them together, you reply, “Do I need to remind you that you’re just as horny as I am?” Seokjin circles around your head so that he is leering right above you. You have to lean your head back to talk to him as you continue. “I know how hard you are, Jin. I know how badl-”

Seokjin cuts you off by smearing his tip over your lips. You fall silent. Staring up at him, you try to resist the urge to lick your lips. You do, however, open your mouth wide without being asked to. Though you tell yourself that you’re doing this because you want to, though you know deep down that everything you do is for him.

He spares no time with words. The moment you open your mouth, he leans forward and pushes his cock down your throat. His weighty balls fall against your forehead and large hands reach for your breasts to mount himself. He doesn’t move; he simply sits over your head while your throat keeps his cock warm.

He doesn’t fit. It doesn’t stop him from squeezing himself in. Your throat burns. The gags and tears don’t bother him. Your hands on his thighs, nails digging into his flesh, doesn’t faze him. The fact that he doesn’t fit isn’t an issue in his mind. He probably won’t fit in your pussy, but you both know that won’t stop him either.

As you choke on him, throat constricting, swallowing his length upon command, he grabs the vibrating dildo somewhere by your head and presses it against your clit once more. You can’t even moan with his cock this far down your throat. Your hips spasm, though, and legs tremble. You roll into the toy, squirming under his body.

“You really need a mouthful of dick to follow orders?” He asks over your gags and the buzzes of the vibrator. Slowly, he starts to pull out of you.

You want to say the first sound to escape you the moment he’s out is a gasp for fresh air, but you can’t. You moan instead. You moan his name. The denial will never die, so long as the truth is this obvious. Every breath you spend on him rather than yourself only further proves that fact.

He stays hovering behind your head, cock perched against your cheek, as he continues to get you off from this angle. Little chuckles fill the space between you with every desperate, broken moan of his name that pours out of you. Your panting, your throat’s aching, and yet all you can think, all you can say is “Jin, Jin, Jin.”

Pussy clenching, hips buckling, your orgasm nears. Looking up at him, you find his attention is locked on your crotch. A little smile tugs on your lips with that familiar sense of pride blushing in your chest. Captivating him like this turns you on too much to be able to soundly admit. Something about making him happy, making him lose himself over you makes you proud. Maybe you just like the attention, you tell yourself while wrapping your hand around his cock.

Curious and dark, his eyes snap back to yours. Moaning against his length, you stare up at him innocently. What’s the use of fighting your need for him… when he’s controlling that vibrator? As long as he’s in control, you know you’re going to have to give into every order blindly, especially if you want to cum. You tell yourself that you’ll do what he says because you haven’t had a good fucking in a while then push any opposing arguments to the side.

Seokjin smiks. “Close, Little Doe?”

So very close. You can’t hide the quaking of your legs. You’re just glad he’s not sitting near your pussy or he’d be able to see how much it quivers for him. Sucking harshly on his tip, you nod and hum, “Mhm.”

Your gasps are breathless, moans desperate as you feel your orgasm threaten to take over. Shutting your eyes, you throw your head back and-

“No!”

His obnoxious laugh meets your ears. You cry out curses as you sit yourself up and turn to look at him. Face blotched with tears, spit and precum, you glare at him. “You fucker!”

He only laughs harder. Having had enough of his games, you reach for the vibrator. You don’t need him; you can do it yourself… if he’ll let you, that is. Seokjin holds the toy out of reach once more when you attempt to grab it out of his hands.

“I was so close!” You whine, clutching onto the collar of his shirt.

Mocking your whines, he grabs onto your ass to keep you still. Your eyes then widen, the tip of his erection poking at your stomach. With the two of you now on your knees, battling for the upper hand, the desire to have him in you only intensifies. Your dress pools around your knees as you straighten your posture. The act of hooking a leg around his waist to jump on his cock is all too tempting. The fast murmurs of the vibrator is long forgotten now that all your mind can think about is how easy it would be to take what you want. That’s what he has been doing this whole time anyways, right?

Eyes dark and drenched in dominance, he smiles. He really thinks he’s won, that he’s got you wrapped around his finger. From a single glance, you know he believes you’ll do anything for him. And maybe if he hadn’t edged you that hard, you would’ve played right into his hand again. But, he got drunk off this control and it’s about time you reclaim it.

You may be naked, but you’re about to uncover every single one of his cocky glances and sly smirks. Destruction is your goal.

Softening your gaze, you pout your lips and press them to his chin. Seokjin stiffens. His grin falls. He brings his brows together and watches you carefully. You arch your back to push your ass further into his hand. Mewling against his jawline, you release his shirt and slither a hand to his neck.

Seokjin scoffs and lowers his hand, dropping the vibrator. Both his hands cup the underside of your ass, lifting you up and spreading your legs enough to position his cock between your folds. Biting back a smirk, you slither your other hand through his long, pulled back hair and exaggerate an innocent whine. He eats it up, rolling his hips into yours.

The little bit of friction against your clit only derails you for a second as your breath hitches. He’s getting too comfortable with this feigned submissive state you’re displaying. When he starts to massage your cheeks, you know you’ve got him hooked. He’s too vulnerable to predict your next move.

As his eyes flutter close and he leans in for a kiss, you grab onto his throat. His eyes shoot open, but it’s too late. You pull his head back by the grip on his hair and dig your nails into his neck. Bearing your teeth, you graze and nibble on his jawline. He spanks you as a means of retaliation, but the gasp that escapes you only adds to your anger.

“You really thought you could get away with that?” You question while tightening your grip on his throat. Seokjin gulps. You giggle when you feel his adam’s apple bob under your palm. “You should’ve let me cum, you pathetic slut.”

Using his words against him only seems to humour the situation. He laughs, trying to look at you despite the fact that you’re holding his head back. “Let me go before I lose my patience, Little Doe,” he rasps.

You’re the one that has a hold on him. He can’t tell you what to do. How does he even have the guts to taunt you when you’ve got him in such a degrading position. You clench your jaw and grunt.

“I won’t tell you again.” The humor in his tone has disappeared.

Huffing, you raise a brow. If you need to assure your dominance over him, then that’s exactly what you’ll do. Gathering your saliva, you spit over his lips. He flinches. “Lie the fuck down,” you order.

Seokjin darts his tongue out and licks his lips. Sighing, he whispers, “I’ll tell you what. If you can lay me down yourself, without using magic, I’ll apologize for everything.”

That tool. He must think the least of you if he’s willing to bargain this much. You’re about to tell him to shut up and do as you say, but then he smirks. He really believes you can’t do it. Anger doesn’t fully encompass your feelings towards him, and neither does rage at this point. You’re livid. Heart pumping a vicious dose of spite and pride, you release his throat and attempt to shove him down by his shoulders.

He doesn’t budge. He doesn’t even pretend to be affected. You should’ve known better than you push him by his strongest point. His shoulders are massive; of course, they’d keep him up. Your next attempt focuses on his chest as you try to shove him down from there. Seokjin chuckles, biting his lip to keep the rest of his laughter in.

“Just give up,” you shout while trying to climb over him. The hope of your body weight being enough of a factor to bring him down, backfires. Now you’re the one locked in his grip. His arms wrap tightly around your waist, breasts in his face.

“I was just about to say the same thing to you,” he smiles.

You let go of his hair. Both hands grip onto his shoulders as you watch his messy hair come undone. A few strands fall over his eyes. From this angle, with his long hair everywhere and chin leaning into your breasts, he looks harmless, perhaps even enchanting. He’s beautiful. That’s a fact you can never deny. It’s been true the moment you saw him all those years ago and it’s true now. But that amount of dominance is all your pride is willing to accept at this point.

Pushing those soft strands of hair out of his face, you whisper, “Lay down, Jin.”

Seokjin shakes his head, nuzzling his face between your breasts. Your breath hitches as he makes himself comfortable by kissing and biting just under each tit; your most sensitive areas. Eyes fluttering shut, head falling back, you let yourself get lost in the gentle pleasure for a moment. But then, his teeth graze your skin a little bit harder than necessary.

Your eyes snap open, hands rushing through his hair to pull his head back. Glaring down at him, you’re about to scold him for thinking he can take over you like that and not expect to be punished. Little do you know, he’s thinking the same exact thing.

Before you can even part your lips, Seokjin’s patience has disappeared. He lays you down with ease, making quick work of pinning your hands over your head. You grunt and roll your hips against his stomach as a means to push him off, or so you tell yourself. Seokjin only plays into it as he rolls his body back into you. He chuckles when he feels your pussy quiver from the slightest bit of friction. You're too needy to put up more of a fight for your control back. And while that fact has already come and gone for Seokjin, you’re still making your peace with it.

“You’re so fucking lucky you’re this cute,” he purrs. “Or I would’ve pounded that attitude out of you the first time you acted out.”

It’s condescending, absolutely degrading, yet you’re gushing for more. Pussy throbbing, you whine and attempt to pull your wrists out of his hold. You don’t make much progress. Seokjin smirks down at you. He leans in for a kiss and the temptation to give in returns. It trickles into your heart in quiet whispers. However, your pride is louder, slithering into your soul in booming echoes. So as his lips near yours, instead of puckering, you spit.

He flinches. “I was so close to forgiving you, Little Doe.”

“I haven’t apologized.”

“Yet.”

You part your lips to tell him to go to hell, when suddenly you're turned over. Face smushed into the ground, body flat but ass up and hands held behind you, you’re entirely at his mercy. A soft cloth, you can only guess was the wrap of your lunch box, finds its way around your wrists, binding them tightly.

“Ji- Ah~”

The smack of his hand coming down on your ass echoes in the vacant space. With your face towards the cityscape, you can see a few people look around for the source. If a single person glances up at the peak, they’d find your naked body completely submissive to Seokjin’s clothed one. The risk causes your arousal to tickle down your thigh.

Whether or not Seokjin is aware of the fact that he’s calling the attention of an audience doesn’t matter much to you. And even if it did and you wanted to ask him about it, you wouldn’t have the chance. After another spank, Seokjin pushes your asscheeks up and apart to bury his tongue in your pussy. You circle your hips at the warm sensation of his mouth against your heat. Moans and curses mixed with praises pour out of you as he sips on every wet drop of yours. He groans at the taste, completely entrenched in your needy pussy to pull away.

“Oh, yes, there, you fucker,” you moan as his tongue swipes between your folds. Another spank meets your ass at the insult. You cry out a moan, but don’t care enough to stop. “That’s cute,” you whine. Though your words may be condescending, your tone betrays your intentions. You sound more broken and needy than ever. Each word sounds more like a plea rather than an insult.

Seokjin rather heard the former. He laps up a good amount of your wetness, then brings his glistening lips up to your asshole. After spitting the wet mixture over your hole, he reaches for the abandoned, still buzzing vibrator.

“Ever use this in your ass?” He asks while swirling the spit mixed juices around your hole with the tip of the vibrator.

You shudder a whine, fisting your hands to keep yourself focused. “No,” you sigh. “The most I’ve put in is two fingers.”

Seokjin chuckles as he pushes the tip in a good inch or two. You squeal loudly and screw your eyes shut from the buzzing, blissfully burning sensation of the vibrator’s stretch. “Well, after today you can say you’ve put in a bit more than that.”

As he massages your cheeks, tongue relatching onto your heat, you realize you really are just a toy to him, a little play thing, a set of holes to entertain him. And you should hate him for that, hate him for stealing your things, for reading your secrets, for making you love him all these years, but you don’t. You can’t hate someone as wonderfully prideful as you. You can’t despise his hardheaded tendencies or the fact that he must always be right. Because, though these traits may get you in some trouble, they’re possibly your favourite things about yourself. You love the challenge of proving yourself, and you know he does too. And of all the stupid men you’ve been with, Seokjin’s the only one that understands how to pleasure you, to provoke you beyond repair.

The more you think about everything you’ve done to him out of spite and everything he’s done to you in return, the more you crave his cock. Pushing back against his lips, you hiss, “When the fuck are you planning to fuck me?”

He sits back and lets his hand take over his tongue’s work. Two fingers rub between your folds and tease your entrance as he replies, “Think you can take the whole thing, Little Doe?”

Just when you were thinking you actually love the guy, he goes and throws your words back in your face. You’re starting to wonder if you’re insane for wanting him even more now. “Why don’t you stick it in and find out, you fucking thief,” you reply between quiet moans.

His grip on your ass softens and he takes his fingers out at the reference. Though your heart’s telling you to drop it and charm him once more, your pride encourages you to continue. “Maybe this pussy might fuck some honour back in you. Maybe you’ll learn not to take what isn’t yours.”

That harsh hold returns. Both his hands grab onto your ass in a deadly grip as he darkly chuckles and asks, “What makes you think I’m the one being taught a lesson? Aren’t you the one tied up?”

His questions are irreverent, you tell yourself. With that vibrator in your ass and your pussy empty of his touch, all you can think about is how badly you need to be filled. “You annoying little shit,” you hiss over your shoulder. “Just fuck me already.”

He smacks your pussy, making you cry out his name like the slut you know you are for him. “Watch your mouth, whore,” he warns. His voice is heavy with lust and dominance. You can’t help but push your hips back towards him from his tone alone. “Or, I swear, I’ll make you sorry you ever talked to me seven years ago.”

“You fucker! You spoke to me first!”

“Are you serious right now? I’m threatening to fuck the shit out of you and you want to argue about who spoke to who first?”

You huff a shaky breath. “You’re avoiding the topic because you know you’re wrong.”

“You just love lying, don’t you?”

How the fuck are you the liar? Fighting against the restraints, you explain over your shoulder, “I was minding my own business in my compartment and your dumbass-”

Seokjin shoves the half-eaten peach in your mouth, cutting you off. You bite into it to get a piece out so the rest could fall, but you end up hitting the pit. Chin sticky with peach juice, you scream into the fruit and try to glare at him over your shoulder. Seokjin simply pushes your face into the ground, leans over your flattened body and purrs, “I’ve heard enough from you, slut. Lying, screaming. You even think you can boss me around.” He chuckles a bit at his last sentence before continuing, “You’re going to apologize to me, (Y/N).”

“Never!” You scream into the peach. However, all he hears is a two syllable grunt.

No matter. The fact that you spoke back is enough to spur him on. He let’s go of your head and sits back up. You go to lift your head off the ground, but he pulls your hips up before you have the chance. He positions his cock between your folds then aligns it with your entrance. You only have the opportunity to suck in half a breath before he’s pushing himself in.

You were right before to assume he wouldn’t fit. His girth alone is thick enough to make you cry into the fruit with every bit he further attempts to slide in. The stretch is so sweet, so harsh. You’re obsessed with how fucking big he is and how well he makes room for himself between your walls. Peach juice and drool runs down your chin, your neck, and stains the sheet. A mewling, sticky mess already and he’s not even halfway in. You need to stop losing yourself over him though, if you intend on keeping your apologies to yourself.

However, the vibrator partly lodged in your ass is not helping your attempt to stay still and sane. And every inch he continues to push in has you rolling eyes. Is it humiliating to admit you want this everyday, every night, every moment of your life? Is it disgraceful to wish he was yours always? Is it unreasonable to want to be his one and only? Him, him, him. All you want, all you crave is more him.

He finally bottoms out. Maybe you’re whipped for his dick, or too horny to think straight, but you can almost certainly swear on both your lives that the imprint of his cock is bulging from your stomach. You can feel it against the floor. The realization makes you shudder and whimper into the fruit.

“Tightest fucking cunt,” he whispers to himself. He then suddenly leans over your body, his stomach nudging the vibrator in a bit more, and kisses up your spine. A bundle of shivering nerves follow his trail up to the curve of your ear. “You know,” he starts in a whisper. “You look a lot like a little annoyed kitten when you’re angry.”

You scratch at his stomach from your constrained position and groan into the peach.

“See?” He darkly chuckles. “I live to see your nose twitch and eyes go dark whenever I piss you off. You just look so cute, Little Doe.” Hips pulling back, he continues, “I just can’t resist.”

“Fuck you.”

The clap of skin on skin is enough of a reply. Your eyes roll back and jaw clenches, teeth clattering against the peach pit. He starts slow, breathing heavily in your ear, making you clench around his cock for more. But then, he straightens his posture and holds onto your hands to build some momentum. With his heavy balls smacking against your clit as he speeds up, the most you can do is muffle your moans and whines into the fruit and pray you’ll mentally survive this.

It’s all too good to be true. His length hits all the right places and then some, bringing grateful tears in your eyes that you’re thankful he can’t see. If he knew you were slowly becoming a sobbing mess for his cock too, then he’d never let you live it down.

Seokjin then lets go of your hands, leaving you grabbing at the air, and shifts his hold to your ass. Using the meat of your cheeks, he pulls you forward and back to meet him halfway. He groans your name with every smack of his hips against your ass. You’re dripping off his tongue, entrenched in his very being by the way he chants your name. And though you’re the one tied and gagged like a suckling pig, utterly submitting to him and his dominance, the fact that he’s high off you is enough validation of power for you to enjoy his cock guilt-free.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You whine back without much thought. Only when he pounds into you three more times does your mind catch up to his word. Beautiful? Did he just call you beautiful? Was that supposed to be demeaning? Because, even if it wasn’t, you seem to be getting closer and closer to your high.

You grunt a broken question into the fruit. Seokjin pushes in deep and leans over your body once more. Placing a soft kiss to your cheek, he takes out the mulled peach and asks, “What was that, Little Doe?”

“Do you mean it?”

The question trickles out of you in cracked cries of pleasure. And though you may sound weak and dick-hungry, the question is still strong enough to stun him. Soon, however, his senses find him once more. Circling his hips into your ass, cock swirling your juices deep within you and rubbing against your needy walls, he repeats in a dark whisper, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

And as you moan his name in affirmation, he continues his thrusts in and out of you. The pace is slower than before, but the force is just as brutal.

Seokjin takes a bite from the peach. In fact, it’s the same bite you took, only he avoids the pit. He then sticks half the piece out of his mouth, holding it out for you. You meet his lips halfway, taking a bite off while kissing him. The juices smear down both your faces, but you’re all too consumed with the filthy act of exchanging saliva to care.

Pulling away, Seokjin holds your chin until you finish chewing and swallowing the piece. “Why couldn’t you swallow my cum like that last night?” He playfully asks.

“I didn’t know-” You cut yourself off, the realization of your words catching up to your mind just in time.

He raises a brow, ramming his hips even harder into you. “Didn’t know what, Little Doe?”

You shake your head.

Seokjin drops the peach and grabs your hair. “Tell me.”

“No,” you mewl.

“Tell me or I won’t let you cum.”

The threat is enough to give you pause, but not nearly enough to make you confess. Then, he stills his hips mid thrusts and ups the stakes. “Tell me, Little Doe, and I’ll tell you the truth about the letters.”

The letters. The offer is more than tempting, but how can you be sure it's real? You swallow thickly, trying to sneak a good look at him in your peripherals. From the glances you’re able to get, you can tell that he’s serious. Gulping every fear and nag of your pride, you push your ego aside and confess, “I didn’t know I was in love with you then.”

Seokjin pauses for a moment. He releases your hair then sighs. Have you said too much? Before you can really think about it, he presses a wet kiss to your cheek and continues with his movements into you. “I love you too, my little slut,” he purrs before returning to his previous position behind you.

His little slut. You’re all his. However, you don’t have much time to relish over this newfound information as he takes up a speed you’ve never experienced before. He’s harsh and his cock viciously rams in and out of you while pushing the vibrating dildo further into your ass. You cry out a broken sob and nuzzle your tear and peach juice stained face into the sheet.

Your pussy tightens around his cock as you edge your orgasm. “C-Can I?” You ask, fearful he’ll deny you the truth if you don’t, or so you try to convince your ego that.

“Of course, Little Doe,” he grunts. “I’m no liar.”

You want to dive into his words, the meanings behind them and why he chose now, of all the times, to tell you that. But, with your orgasm taking over, all you can focus on is trying to breathe. Eyes rolling back and twitching, mouth hung open, ears like sirens with their ringing, and pussy gushing, you reach your peak. Crying out his name, you cum all over his cock.

Seokjin is relentless. He does not still his hips for a split second. In and out, he dives. He’s adamant on riding you through this and reaching his own high as well. “Tell me again,” he orders. “Tell me how you feel again, baby.”

Destruction is your goal, but you never thought to be at the receiving end of it. Your mind feels foggy, heart racing and pussy aching with that sweet relief of releasing all you have for him. And though you might have thought that that second time you confess your feelings to him might break you, you find that it gives you strength instead.

“I love you,” you breathlessly cry.

You just finish the confession when he pulls in deep and shoots ropes of his cum into you. The tears in your eyes have no bounds. The stimulation is proving to be too much as you squirm in place. Seokjin quietly shushes you while grinding into your pussy to sprout every last drop into you.

“Please, please,” you tremble. “It’s too mu-ch, Jin.”

Seokjin pulls the dildo out of your ass, and turns it off before tossing it near your head. With his cock still deep in you, he unbinds your hands. You bring your hands to either side of your head, sighing at the relief of the strain. Then, finally, he slowly pulls out of you. You let out a staggered whimper and close your eyes to try to contain yourself from crying out once more. You’re sure at this point that a few people must’ve seen you. You’re in the broad daylight, laying on the highest hill and screaming at the top of your lungs. Surely, you’ve caught a handful of attention.

Once he’s fully out of you, Seokjin flips you over on your back. You avoid his gaze and bring your knees into your chest. He smiles and holds onto your ankles.

“I’m not sure if I want to clean you up or not,” he thinks out loud. You're too light headed to answer, but the hard look in your eyes when you finally meet his gaze is enough to make him laugh. “Guess I’m gonna leave you to walk around with my cum all day, Little Doe.”

“That’s not fair,” you sigh.

Seokjin tuts. “Don’t whine,” he orders while pressing soft kisses upon your knees. He then pulls his briefs and pants up. And just like that, he’s fully dressed. The only indication that something dirty occurred is the dripping stain of peach juice on his white shirt.

A part of you can’t bring itself to care if his cum stays in you or not. He’s fucked you beyond comprehension and you still have yet to regain your senses. His eyes flash with worry when you don’t fight him on his decision.

“Are you okay?”

You only nod, all too fucked out to use words.

“Need help sitting up?”

He interprets the half-hearted glare you shoot him as the yes you intended. He holds his hands out for you and you take them without a second thought. A smile graces his features as he pulls you off the ground. You tuck your legs under you when you finally sit back up. Your dress crumples under you and you can’t even be bothered to pull it out.

Seokjin, barely even heaving, watches you try to compose yourself. “How are you not as tired as I am?” You question between pants.

“Because I’m better than- Ow!”

You swat his shoulder and glare at him. “Finish that sentence and you won’t get any tonight,” you threaten before turning your attention back to your dress. You pull it out from under your and try to turn it inside in.

Seokjin scoffs, flipping the dress over so you can finish your task easier. “You really think you’ll be able to go again tonight too?”

Licking your lips, you hold his gaze and pull your dress back on. “If the truth doesn’t destroy you,” you start, buttoning up your dress, “Then, you can have me every night.”

He slowly nods along to your words. Curling a strand of his hair behind his ear, he sighs and finally confesses, “I did steal the letters.”

Your heart shatters into your gut. Clenching your jaw, you attempt to hold back your tears. Yes, you’ve accused him of it over and over again, but every time he denied it, you believed him. Never did you really believe he was this capable of being cruel.

The trembling sigh that escapes you makes him turn his body fully towards you. “I didn’t take them from you though,” he quickly adds.

“My owl is an extension of me, asswipe,” you seethe, voice almost breaking.

Seokjin shakes his head and corrects his statement, “No, I mean I didn’t take them from you at all. I caught someone reading them in the restricted section.”

You scoff, looking off into the town with a shake of your head. This is unbelievable. Does he honestly think he can copy your someone claim and get away with it? “Someone?”

He raises a brow at you. “What? Suddenly that sounds stupid? That’s all you’ve been telling McGonagall.”

You snap your eyes back to him and shout, “That’s the truth! Someone told-”

“I know it was Mitch,” he cuts off.

“How can you be so sure? It could’ve-”

“Because that’s who I found with your letters.”

You freeze. No. No! Mitch is a Slytherin, a friend. Why the hell would he steal your letters and then tell you about it? And if he did read them, then he knows the truth about you. So why hasn’t his demeanour around you changed? Why hasn’t he told anyone else?

“I thought you were going to tell me the truth.”

“(Y/N), I swear this is the entirety of it. I took them from him the moment I recognized your handwriting,” he explains. Seokjin shifts closer to you and pushes your hair out of your face. “He told me that if I told you what he did, then he'd tell the school about your blood status.”

Nothing can stop the tears pooling in your eyes. You try to blink them back, but that only provokes a few to fall. Seokjin goes to wipe them only to have you push his hand away. “So you know?” You whisper in hopes that it will mask the cracks in your voice.

It doesn’t.

“No one cares that you’re muggle born, (Y/N),” he sighs.

“So why didn’t you tell McGonagall the truth then? Why’d you hide it for this long if no one will care? We both know there’s a good chunk of each house that will hunt me down if they knew.”

He shakes his head. “You know that’s not true. I didn’t tell anyone because I knew it would hurt you. You’re just scared you’d lose your power over everyone. Being half blood gains you just as much respect as being a muggle born.”

Your tears act on their own accord now, falling freely down your face. This time when Seokjin goes to wipe them away, you don’t reject him. He cups your face and says, “And if anyone does try to hurt you because of that-”

“You’ll make their life a living hell?” You mockingly finish.

Seokjin smirks. “No, my girlfriend will,” he chuckles, genuine eyes boring into yours. “She’s really beautiful and she’s not afraid to take what’s hers. And she’s actually really scary. I’m really terrified of what she’ll do next sometimes.”

You fight off the urge to smile as much as you can while he speaks. “You better be talking about me or I swear, Jin, I’ll-”

“See? She’s already making threats and I’m complimenting her,” he laughs.

A little giggle tumbles out of your lips. As you finally let yourself smile, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a tight hug. “Thank you,” you mutter into his shoulder.

Seokjin is quick to hold onto your waist. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck. “You know you’ll be okay, Little Doe.”

The nickname has never made you smile as much as this before. And though your ego is still larger than him, your pride finally takes the back seat. Swallowing thickly, you pull away from him and mumble, “I’m sorry.”

“Hmm?”

You huff through your nose and only just raise your voice, “I’m sorry.”

Seokjin knits his brows and leans in, “What?”

“For fuck’s sake, you alpaca, I said I’m sorry!”

“Oh, you were serious?” He asks with a playful smirk.

You internally curse yourself for being so in love with an idiot and shake your head. Your nose twitches a bit and Seokjin can’t help but throw his head back as he laughs. “I don’t know why I try,” you mutter to yourself.

Seokjin grabs onto your wrist and pulls you into his lap. You give in without another word and let him cradle you close to his chest. “You don’t need to apologize for anything,” he mutters against your hair. “I know you didn’t mean to start that fire.”

You snap your head up at him. “Really?”

“I told McGonagall the same thing but she kept asking if I knew who else would do that, so I just stopped trying.”

He really tried. This whole time you were convinced he thought the worse of you, that he didn’t care if you ever returned to Hogwarts, but he really was trying to help you. How long has he known he’s been in love with you too? Wrapping your arms around him, you reach up for another gentle kiss. The act of kissing him seems so natural now, so right and real. The way your lips move against each other isn’t like something you’ve felt before. You want this always; you want him always.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise.”

You pull away from Seokjin with a start. His eyes dart to something behind you as his hands quickly move to hide the dark green dildo behind him. Quickly crawling out of his lap, you jump to your feet and stand an arm's length away from Seokjin. He follows your lead, standing up as you press your thighs together.

Your mixed cum threatens to fall with every passed second you remain standing. Cursing yourself for not making him clean it up, you try to stay calm. As long as it doesn’t drip pass the hem of your dress, you know you’ll be fine

Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Trelawney hover just over the edge of the hill as they look between the two of you. How long have they been watching you? How much did they hear? Oh fuck, you think, how much did they see?

You remain perfectly still as both of them land and dismount. “We’ve been looking everywhere for the two of you. Your lunch break finished twenty minutes ago,” Professor Trelawney sighs. “I was worried you were hurt.”

“We’re fine,” you reply.

“Just fine,” Seokjin echoes.

McGonagall flickers her attention between the two of you. “What were you so busy doing that you lost track of time?” She questions.

Swallowing thickly, you mutter, “That’s a good question.”

“Really good question.”

Turning to Seokjin, you quietly ask, “Are you going to do that the entire time?”

“What? I’m not allowed to talk?”

“Not if you’re gonna act like a parrot.”

“Ahem…”

Silence falls over the both of you the moment McGonagall clears her throat. Once she has regained your attention, her gaze falls on something to your right. All eyes follow your line of sight to find your lace bra by your lunch box. You bring a hand to your mouth to keep your jaw from dropping in sheer embarrassment.

“And how long has this been going on?”

“Since last night,” Seokjin replies with almost no prompting.

You swat his arm, shooting him a pointed look. “Are you kidding me?”

“Oh,” McGonagall hums. She then turns to Professor Trelawney and says, “You were right. They are getting along. Well, this won’t be so hard to say then.”

You hold your breath. Here it is. The results of your investigation. All questions about your future as a witch in training will finally come to an end. Seokjin shifts closer to you and his hand finds yours. You turn to meet his gaze as he squeezes your hand.

“Mr. Kim Seokjin,” the headmistress starts, “Congratulations. You will be returning to Hogwarts first thing tomorrow morning.”

However, Seokjin doesn’t move. He doesn’t even so much as let out a shaky breath. He simply continues to hold your hand and stare at McGonagall. You attempt to squeeze his hand to let him know you’re okay, but he still doesn’t budge.

McGonagall quirks her head at him, asking, “Is there something you’d like to say, Mr. Kim.”

“Yes,” he finally states. When the headmistress nods for him to continue, he exhales deeply and says, “I won’t let you expel her for something she didn’t do.”

A smirk plays on her lips. “That’s very noble of you, Mr. Kim. But Miss (L/N) is not being expelled for something she didn’t do.”

“(Y/N) didn’t start the fire.”

“Quite so,” McGonagall agrees. Your eyes widen and for a moment you don’t think you’re breathing at all. “That’s why she will be returning with you in the morning.”

A child-like laughter you’ve never heard before escapes you at the announcement. “Really?” You ask, and when both professors smile and nod, you jump into Seokjin’s arms. He wraps his arms around you instantly, lifting you off the ground.

However, in the haste of his movements, Seokjin drops the one thing redeeming your pride before your professors. Upon impact, the dildo hums to life and all smiles are suddenly gone. Both you and Seokjin rush to turn it off with a wave of your hand, but it only seems to intensify the vibrations. Finally, McGonagall pulls out her wand and silences the toy.

You can’t even bear to look at her, keeping your eyes trained on the ground. Seokjin opens his mouth to explain but the headmistress shakes her head, “The less we know the better.”

After a beat of silence, she hands each of you your wands and expresses her excitement to see you in the halls once more. And as she summons her broom up into her hand, Seokjin asks the headmistress, “So was it an accident then?”

“No, I’m afraid someone intended to hurt you,” she sighs, “The both of you actually.”

You share a concerned look with Seokjin. “Who?”

“Someone,” she smirks as she mounts onto your broom. “We look forward to having you back at Hogwarts.”

The two of you thank both of your professors before they fly back to the cafe.

Seokjin wraps his arm lazily around your waist and pulls you into his chest. He smiles down at you before cupping your face and softly pressing his lips to yours. You kiss him back, relishing in your secured position at school.

“I knew it,” he says upon breaking the kiss.

You roll your eyes and fight off a smile. “You did not. You were shaking when you thought I wasn’t coming back,” you tease.

He grabs a handful of your ass. Raising a brow, he mutters, “Says the one on the verge of tears.”

“I don’t cry.”

Seokjin has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. He clears his throat, nods, then says, “I know, Little Doe.”

Your breath somewhat hitches. Did he just try to save your pride? “Wow, you really are in love with me,” you mumble.

You didn’t expect your words to ignite the egoistic part of him, but suddenly his expression hardens and his pride is on the line. “Never said in love.”

“Why are you lying?”

“You’re the liar.”

“Do you wanna go over…”

Your bickering lasts for either of you to even remember what set you off to begin with. And though your words knock each other’s pride only to build it again, and the pranks have not ceased to exist, you both know that nothing can change what you found, the love you found in each other on the tip of Doe’s Peak.

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#hyunglinenetwork #networkbangtan #bangtanfairygarden #btswritingcafe #btsguild #ficswithluv #btsgoldnet #bangtanhq #magicshopnet #seokjin smut #jin smut #kim seokjin smut #bts hogwarts au #bts smut

1K notes · View notes

azurevi · 3 years

Text

enstars charas with an overworked s/o

First time writing enstars🤡 this took kinda long becz exams but i hope its good ^^ also kinda self indulgent hhh

Characters : natsume, ibara, leo, tatsumi, arashi, keito

Natsume

Natsume watches from the doorway as your head bobs about, hands tapping unrhythmically on the keyboard. You're already falling asleep, yet you still refuse to go to bed.

Normally he won't interfere with your work, knowing that you're fully capable of making the right decisions, but it's a pain seeing you pushing yourself so hard.

"Still working?" he steps in, holding a steaming drink in his hands.

Your head snaps up at his voice, and you nod. It's a project that you've put off for far too long, and of course, you have to suffer the consequences.

"The deadline is two days later, if I don't finish this section today I probably won't make it in time,"

He sets the mug beside your hand, observing your wandering gaze and disheveled hair which you must've been running your hand through. "I don't think you can finish it, though. You already look worn out."

You raise the mug to your lips and take a sip of whatever it holds. The drink tastes sweet and refreshing in your mouth, and almost instantly your muscles relax. "You aren't any better, you know,"

That's true. Being a nightowl himself, Natsume's words don't really seem all that persuasive. At first you would lecture him about how little he rested, but you gave up eventually. You suppose he's built differently, seeing as he can still perform well after only three hours of sleep.

"Pretty sure I'm in better condition," he says, pulling a chair beside you and popping down. The wood scraps against the floor, creaking slightly. It's usually a sound that you find unbearable, but you seem to have missed it as you try to continue your work.

"Come here, love," he stretches his arms out, wiggling his fingers expectantly. You raise a brow, contemplating whether you should give in. It won't be a surprise if you fall asleep right away in his arms.

"But work…" you sigh, tearing your eyes from him. His shoulders drop immediately, a frown forming from the rejection. "You're just gonna leave me hanging? How cruel…"

You know he's just messing with you when he let out a dramatic huff, but somehow his defeated look still tucks at your heartstrings.

"Fine, fine…" you sigh, sneaking your arms around his torso and burying your head into his neck. His chest hums with satisfaction as he digs his fingers into your messy hair, soothing out knots he finds along the way gently. With every stroke you're getting drowsier and drowsier, and you know that you're supposed to be working, but the feeling of his hand running through your locks and the steady rise of his chest convince you to stay.

You fall asleep almost immediately after you close your eyes. Natsume calls out to you and smiles when he hears your slight snoring instead. It's probably the best to get you to the bed and tug you in, but he decides to stay in his spot for a moment longer and relish your presence.

Ibara

Ibara knows from experience just how hard it can be to sway you when you’ve made up your mind. That’s why he doesn’t try to sweet talk you or lecture you into sleeping.

No, if he really wants to get you to listen, he will have to trick you into it.

Almost like a hunter watching his prey, Ibara leans against the doorway as he tries to come up with a flawless plan for his mission. Several empty cans are littered around the desk and he can already smell the aroma of coffee from so far away. You had your fist in your hair, and every once in a while you had to stretch your muscles awkwardly from the lack of movement.

“Don’t you think you deserve a break?” he walks towards you, peeking over your shoulder at the work you’re struggling with. It’s yet another project for the other units, and you seem to be stuck in a dilemma.

“I don’t feel like sleeping without finishing this,” you say.

“Right, but I think you added an extra 0 here,” he points at the paper you're working on, where the value had been increased tenfold because of your negligence.

“Oh goodness,” you sigh deeply, immediately erasing the zero. “How amateurish of me,”

Ibara watches as you rub the space between your eyes, trying to soothe the looming headache that was making your work even harder. “It feels like all the muscles in my body died,”

“You’ve been sitting for hours after all,” Ibara suddenly smiles, his eyes diminishing into thin slits. You don’t need to hear anything to know that he’s plotting something behind the smile. “What if I give you a short massage?”

Well… that is unexpected.

“A massage,” you repeat.

“That’s right,”

Now that is interesting. You’ve heard from Hiyori about how good Ibara’s massages are for more times than you can count, and it’s something you’ve always wanted to try. It just keeps slipping your mind. A massage sounds just as appealing as a five star meal right now considering how tired your limbs feel.

“Come on, I promise it’ll be worth it,”

“Fine,”

His smile widens even more. “Alright then! Please get onto the bed,”

“You wanna do it on the bed?” you frown. “I’ll fall asleep,”

“It’s not gonna be long,”

This sounds way too risky especially with the amount of work that’s still unfinished, but his grin is unwavering, as if he already knows what your answer will be.

“God, alright,” you admit defeat and throw yourself onto the bed face first. There is a moment of quiet shuffling before Ibara settles himself behind you, making sure he isn't crushing you under his weight. His hands find their way to your back, and start working their magic.

"Normally I would get massage oils, but that'll be for next time," Ibara says in a low voice, as if trying to lull you to sleep. Hiyori was right about his skills -- you don't think you've ever had a massage so satisfying before. Somehow, he just knows where to knead and how much pressure to put. With every passing minute your muscles are getting looser, as is your mind. You almost feel bad experiencing this for free.

You're about to fall asleep when something suddenly jolted your consciousness, like a big slap to your face. You have no idea how long you've been laying down in that hazy state, but you've still got work to do.

"That was the most incredible massage ever but I have to work now…" is what you're trying to say, but the words come out too jumbled and incoherent to be understood. When you try to get up, Ibara presses you back down, insisting that he's not done with the massage yet.

"I'm going to fall asleep for real," you argue weakly as your body slumps back into the mattress. Ibara watches as your words cease and your face loosens up, mouth slightly ajar as you finally indulge yourself to sleep. Maybe you'll be mad at you in the morning, but seeing you rest makes everything worth it.

Leo

This is so, so ridiculous.

You've been telling Leo to go to bed for the past two hours, but did he listen? Evidently not, seeing as he's clinging to your arm with half-lidded eyes that are failing him every two seconds.

"Just go to sleep first, kay? I still have tons of stuff to do," you flip the pile of complicated documents around, not wanting to spare them another glance. Alas, there isn't much time left before your work is due, and the only way you can think of to tackle this is to keep pushing through no matter how worn out your body feels.

Your head is throbbing and somehow your sight just won't focus. You're pretty sure you're starving too, but you feel no incentive to leave your seat and grab snacks. No, you have to finish your work as soon as possible.

This might've been a lot easier if not for Leo. In the middle of your working he suddenly jolted awake and whined about wanting to cuddle with you. It's no surprise though, considering how often the two of you cling to each other during your sleep, but tonight just doesn't work out.

"Aren't you tired too? I can't sleep without you…" Leo mumbles.

"Pretty sure you're falling asleep as you speak," you say, even though you shouldn't be the one talking right now, not when you're also getting groggy just from his warmth and presence.

When you turn to look at him, his face is squished against your arm, mouth slightly ajar as he snores. To prevent him from waking up again, you decide to tuck him in.

Which is a big mistake, because just the sight of the bed is enough to knock you out. Also because Leo's not letting go of your arm even in his sleep.

"Come to rest, please…" he mumbles quietly and you sigh. Trying to work when your body is screaming isn't going to do much anyway, you suppose, and you flop yourself onto the mattress with the boy. Leo may be childish at times, but everything he does comes from wishing for your wellbeing.

Tatsumi

Lying to Tatsumi feels like committing the worst crime ever, but the guilt of going to sleep with your work still unfinished is even greater.

That explains why you're here under the dim light of the desk lamp against Tatsumi's advice, trying to fight the sleepiness getting to your head as you type away on the keyboard. Just a few more pages and you will go to sleep, you decide, but 'a few more pages' is looking a lot like five essays right now.

You lean back against the chair, throwing your head back. You dare not close your eyes, because you're sure a second longer than an usual blink and you'll be a goner.

"Come on, come on…" you return to the original position, shoulders slumped and eyes squinting as you try to string sentences together. What is usually an easy task has become an impossible mission, and the voice at the back of your head suggesting you to give up isn't any help.

Absorbed in your work, you fail to notice the ruffling of the blanket and the shuffling of slippers behind you. When Tatsumi sets his hands on the back of your chair and calls you, you flinch dramatically.

"Oh," you sigh after calming down. "Did I wake you up?"

"Not really," he says. "I thought you agreed to go to sleep,"

You grimace at his words that remind you how you made a false promise with him when all he wanted was for you to take care of yourself. "I know I did, but I couldn't really fall asleep thinking of all this stuff," you gesture vaguely at the screen.

"I don't think you're doing well though,"

As if trying to prove his point, a yawn escaped your lips and tears blurred your vision. "I suppose not,"

He sits back onto the bed, reaching out so that he can hold your hands in his. "It's no use trying to work in your current state, you know? I know that you're feeling stressed out from all the work piling up, but rest is important for your productivity too. And I'd hate to see you overworking yourself," he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. "Let's go to bed first, and we'll tackle whatever's on your plate tomorrow, alright?"

He doesn't have to say much to sway you. It's one of his charms anyways -- being able to persuade you without even trying.

Arashi

Arashi glances at the clock. 1am. You've been working at your desk since 8, and she can see that you're already starting to fall asleep.

"Sweetheart? You should go rest," she says softly, resting her arms on your shoulders from behind. This brings your mind back to the present, and you sigh realizing that you've zoned out once again.

"Is this due soon?" Arashi asks.

"Not quite, but I don't want to pile everything up. I'm supposed to finish this part today but so many things happened that hindered my plans," you rub you the corners of your eyes. "And I'm already feeling tired,"

"Then you should probably sleep, right? Lack of sleep can mess your face up easily," she turns to cup your face, professionally observing your skin and missing the blush on your face. "You still look cute, but I'd be really sad if you became a victim of sleep deprivation~"

Her voice sounds light and casual, but you can tell that she's genuinely worried about your health. You pull her into a hug, burying your head in her clothes. She always gives the best hugs, hugs that understands you without having to exchange words, hugs that reassure you and rid you of anything on your mind, that remind you even if the world turned its back on you, you'd still have a home to come to.

"Let's go to bed," you suggest, voice woozy.

"Sure, but let's do some skincare routine first!"

You always enjoy doing routines with her even though you're never one to pay much attention to yourself. But something about her being close and taking care of your face makes you feel at ease, and with her soft hands working on your cheeks, you quickly fall asleep.

Noticing your dropping head, Arashi lets out a sigh before carrying you in her arms, planting a light kiss on your forehead

"Sweet dreams, my love,"

Keito

When you started dating Keito, Kuro was quite delighted. One because he never believed someone could actually put up with the man, and two because someone can finally keep an eye on his atrocious working schedule.

What he didn't expect though, is that you're just as much of a hard worker as Keito.

As the night passes, the two of you are still working incessantly. Except from the occasional small talks, there's only the sound of paper and keyboard in the room. The tea he brewed a while ago has already been emptied. You turn to look at the green-haired man, and although you can only see his back, he doesn't seem to be too affected by all this work. Perhaps his monstrous workload back in Yumenosaki Academy has turned him into a machine who doesn't feel tired.

But that can't be true. Surely, overworking a lot doesn't make you immune to it. Keito may not be vocal about how he feels, but he's still a human, and he's bound to feel tired,

The tapping sound on his end pauses abruptly as he turns to you, only to meet your observing eyes. This startles him a bit, and you let out a small chuckle.

"You should go rest-" he glances at the clock on the wall and frowns. "-it's already so late,"

"You're one to talk," you retort.

"I can still function without sleeping, but you shouldn't push yourself too hard,"

There it is again. He never seems to acknowledge his own weaknesses, only paying attention to others as he hides his feelings inside the myriad of work thrown at him each day.

"No one can 'function without sleeping', Keito. You're not a superman,"

"..."

Keito's shoulders are still tense, but he seems to be deep in thought as he isn't working on the computer either. After a moment of silence, he shakes his head and resumes typing. Perhaps he's reminded of his responsibilities, of the various roles that he plays, and how he can't afford to let anyone down.

As always, it's hard to move Keito. You brush it off and turn back to your work.

It isn't until Keito stands up to get himself a new mug of tea that he realizes how drained you look. Your eyelids are drooping and even from far away he can notice errors on the computer screen. Your figure is slouched, leaning towards the table like you just want to fall asleep right there but can't.

"You should really go to bed," Keito walks to you, hand resting on the chair's rail.

"Are you going to come with me?"

"What?"

"Are you going to come to bed with me?" you repeat.

"I still have work,"

"Then I'm not gonna rest yet,"

Keito raises his brows. "Are you threatening me with your own health?"

"If this is what I need to do for you to rest, then so be it,"

Silence fills the room. He watches as you tap away on the keyboard, re-typing every once in a while because your fingers just can't seem to find the keys. It's almost painful to watch.

"How incorrigible," Keito sighs. "Alright. Let's go,"

You jump to your feet immediately, dragging him to the bedroom. "No sneaking out after I fall asleep, okay? You have to rest for real,"

"Fine," Keito grunts.

The moment his head falls onto the pillow, he swears he can slip into dreamland right away. You throw your arm across his torso and he instinctively rests his head atop yours, listening as your breathing becomes more and more calm.

The both of you may be hopeless cases, but you always find a way to hold each other up.

#enstars x reader #ensemble stars #enstars #natsume sakasaki #ibara saegusa #leo tsukinaga #arashi narukami #tatsumi kazehaya #keito hasumi #sie writes

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afictionalwhore · 3 years

Text

A Mermaid’s Mate

⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽

A/N: this was inspired by a long and beautiful conversation with @jadequeen88 about nasty Pirate!Dabi and a little Mermaid!Reader and poor first mate Tenko. I’m an absolute slut for mermaid AUs and Dabi just seemed like the natural choice for a scummy pirate.

Pirate!Dabi x Mermaid!Reader ; little bit of First mate!Tenko

Words: 4K

T/W: noncon, fingering, little bit of anal play, mermaid anatomy, cucking, Captain Dabi is unhygienic in his sex life.

⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽⎽⎼⎻⎺⎺⎻⎼⎽

Captain Dabi was to be, above all else, feared. He had developed quite the reputation for himself, covered head to toe in tattoos and piercings, a tuft of unruly black hair, and maniacal blue eyes that burned with something almost inhumane. Dabi quickly rose to be one of the most feared pirates of the sea. The rumors had spread like wildfire. He’ll steal your eldest daughter and eat her heart! had to be Dabi’s favorite. Combined with his love of pyrotechnics, the dirty captain found relative ease in pillaging unsuspecting coastal towns throughout the seas, leaving quite the impressive trail of broken hearts and devastated livelihoods.

Despite his fearsome reputation, Dabi found himself tossing and turning at night recently, unable to fall asleep. News, rumors, that his father’s navy fleet had been following his ship did not settle well with the captain. Sure, Dabi had stolen this ship from said fleet but that, amongst many other unmentionable crimes, was just a part of the territory of life as a pirate. What better way to start off a life of piracy than to change his name and steal a ship from the father he hated so much? Regardless of the rumors, as Dabi told himself they were, he had found himself unable to sleep that night.

Dabi swung his legs up and over the hammock that swayed with the motions of the ship, hopping on the floor of his quarters with a small thud. He swaggered up to his cabinet before swinging the doors open, hoping to find some rum. None. That was fine. He’d just have to ask Tenko if he had some. That’s what a first mate was for anyways, right? Besides, a walk across the deck under the crisp ocean night air would do him some good, maybe clear his head and relax him a bit. That’s just what the doctor, him, prescribed: a night under the stars with his one true love, rum.

As he made his way towards Tenko’s quarters, he saw a light at the end of his ship. As Dabi crossed the deck, he could make out the skinny twig of a man hanging over the railing, pale blue hair shining under the light like a beacon.

Scurvy must have got the poor soul, Dabi thought as he creaked along the open deck, as though that would explain the man’s behavior, despite the fact that Tenko had always been, in Dabi’s eyes, a weird one.

When Dabi stole his father’s ship, he brought Tenko on as his first mate, since that backstabbing Keigo had joined the Navy with Dabi’s father. Dabi thought he’d have to drag Tenko on board, knowing the awkward man much preferred the indoors, always hunched over a pile of books. To Dabi’s surprise, it didn’t take the shy, blue-haired man much convincing at all to join.

“Do you think we’ll see a mermaid?” Tenko had asked Dabi as they snuck away and sailed into their new life under the veil of stars.

“Sure, kid.” Dabi shrugged, more focused on the rope work than whatever mythical creature prowled the ocean depths.

Ever since then, Tenko was always ranting and raving about mermaids. Dabi had already given the scrawny man lecture upon lecture after catching Tenko throwing their limited food supplies out into the ocean. It was only a matter of time before the man died trying to fuck some poor, unknowing ocean creature in belief it was a living, breathing, genuine mermaid.

That’ll just leave more rum for me. Dabi thoroughly believed, turning back towards Tenko’s quarters to retrieve the rum, head too full of worries about his father to bother with lecturing Tenko once again. Karma would deal with Tenko for wasting their food yet again.

Dabi had almost made it to Tenko’s quarters when he heard it: a soft, feminine giggle. Dabi wondered if he had already drunk the last of his rum that night and simply forgot. There was no way a woman could be on board, not without womanizer Captain Dabi knowing. It had been only Dabi and Tenko for weeks. He was simply hearing things. He had to have been.

Dabi decided to creep closer, just within earshot of Tenko and the mystery woman. He heard Tenko’s raspy voice—“fruit”—following by a lighter, almost airy voice— “foooot?”

“Try again,” said Tenko, leaning a little further over the railing. “Frrrruit.”

“Frrrrrrooooot. Frrrrrrrruit. Frrrruit. Fruit!”

“Good! That’s perfect!” Tenko exclaimed before tossing whatever fruit he had stolen from the kitchens into the water. “You’re learning so fast!”

Dabi expected a splash, prayed there would be a splash. Instead, his ears were greeted with more giggles. Dabi shook his head before turning around and slinking back to his quarters without the rum.

“I’m out of damn mind,” he mumbled as he tucked himself into his hammock, the swaying of the ship lulling him to sleep.

It didn’t stop there. The food kept disappearing. Tenko was just a little too eager to stay out at night for someone who usually didn’t enjoy the fresh air. Although Dabi felt his first mate could really use some refreshing ocean air. Dabi found himself sneaking out at night, stalking his first mate and listening in on his conversations with whatever the man was talking to.

This had gone on for about a week. Dabi was growing more and more restless, finding himself inexplicably irate with his first mate. Conversations with Tenko usually were about some ocean myth, but they began to take a turn that left Dabi more irritated than uncomfortable or bored, especially combined with what Dabi was watching at night.

“Did you know mermaids can mate with humans?” Tenko said one clear day as he was cleaning the deck while Dabi charted their course.

Dabi stopped mid step and turned to face his friend. “Please don’t go and fuck the manatee.”

“I’m not going to fuck a manatee! I’m telling you! There’s genuine mermaids out there!” Tenko was working himself up into a fit.

“Fine, fine,” Dabi waved him off. “I believe ya.” I need to get this man laid. I need to get laid, fuckin’ Christ.

“Unrelated, though,” he pointed an accusatory finger at his first mate. “Tenko, do you happen to know where the food has been goin’? I know mannin’ a ship with just us two fuckers is a lot, but we really can’t be out of apples already.”

“No, captain. No, sir,” Tenko fumbled with his fingers. “I can’t say I do know. Perhaps we have some rats?”

“Rats, yes, of course.” Dabi said, fearsome blue eyes never leaving Tenko’s red ones. “Rats. Tenko, make a note for when we’ve stopped in the next town. We need to pick up more apples and rat traps.”

“Yes, sir.” Tenko scurried away, and Dabi didn’t see his first mate for the rest of the evening.

The interaction had left Dabi more irritated than usual. Not only did he have to deal with a lunatic first mate, but he had to deal with the fact that said first mate wasn’t actually crazy. Add that to the stress of being out on the open sea for a week since he had heard the rumors of his father catching up with him and Dabi found himself on another sleepless night in need of a drink.

Knowing that he had already drank the supply he had stolen from Tenko a week ago and there would be nothing in the cabinet, Dabi once again heaved his body out of his hammock, boots hitting the hard wooden floor of his quarters, and found himself making his way across the deck under the moonlight to Tenko’s quarters.

Once again, there was Tenko, in his regular spot, hanging over the railing with his lamp beside him resting on said railing and illuminating his pale features.

“Tenko.” Dabi heard his first mate’s scratchy voice and watched as Tenko pointed a long finger towards himself. He heard the water move, splashing ever so softly, before the airy voice replied. “Teeeehnnnkooooooh. Teeeenko. Tenko!” Musical giggles floated into the night air.

“Yes!” Tenko moved his hand over the ship’s railing to point out into the water.

After a few moments, a soft voice answered back, telling Tenko your name.

Tenko sighed and repeated what you had told him. “That’s beautiful.”

Dabi scoffed. A burning feeling in his chest left him uncomfortable. That was enough foolery for him. God he needed a drink. He quickened his pace to Tenko’s quarters, nothing but rum on his mind.

Dabi made it to Tenko’s quarters, the blue-haired man too distracted to notice Dabi sneaking about. He fumbled around the room with the sway of the ship, throwing objects around until he had found what he was looking for. Rum in hand, Dabi left to return to his own quarters. As he made his way back, he overheard Tenko’s raspy voice once again.

“I love you.”

Dabi could feel the bile rising up. As he went to take a drink of the rum, bringing the bottle up to his lips, a gust of wind and a big wave caused the ship to rock, throwing the drunken captain off balance. He fell with a loud thud, disrupting Tenko. Dabi couldn’t believe his luck when the wave had also thrown Tenko’s lamp into the ocean below. He quickly scurried back to his room, going unnoticed by Tenko. Still, it was just the two of them on board. Tenko had to know Dabi had been spying on now.

The next night, Dabi found himself in a similar predicament as the first night he had caught you and Tenko, sleepless and drunk. Funds were running low. More importantly, the rum was running low, nearly out at the pace Dabi was drinking. He had been pacing the floor of his cabin, when it finally clicked. Dabi heard the giggling once again, annoyed by the creature and his first mate’s consistent flirting.

You. You were the answer. How much had Tenko taught you to speak? Surely Dabi could teach you a few new words, a few more tricks. Dirty sailors would run for miles for a chance with you. Hell, even some of the corrupt lords of the nearby islands would pay the big bucks to look at you. If Keigo was still the man he was when Dabi and him were friends, Dabi was sure Keigo would keep his mouth shut about his whereabouts to his father in exchange for letting his little mermaid suck him off.

Further, Dabi convinced himself that he would be doing Tenko a great service by catching you. Dabi was a smart man. Growing up under his Navy officer father’s thumb, Dabi had heard a fair share of mermaid tales before meeting Tenko. What kind of friend would Dabi be to let poor, innocent, unsuspecting Tenko fall in the clutches of an evil mermaid?

Last night was too close for comfort for Dabi. He had to move fast. They would be docking soon. It would be the perfect chance for Dabi to see how much he could make off of you. He swung open the door to quarters to see Tenko making his way towards your usual meeting spot.

“Tenko!” he barked.

The young man jumped and turned around, hiding whatever leftover food he had saved from dinner behind his back, hoping Dabi wouldn’t notice the disappearance if it were from his own plate.

“Yes, captain?” he asked.

“We’re docking at the next town. I need you to take inventory and make a list of what we need.”

“Yes, sir.” Tenko made his way to the storage below deck.

“No!” Dabi yelled. Tenko turned around, confused. “Start with the kitchens.”

“O-okay, sir.” Tenko turned to make his way to the kitchen, near his own quarters and across from Dabi’s.

Once Tenko was out of sight and well in the kitchens, Dabi ran below deck. He grabbed the net from the storage, and headed to the spot he always saw Tenko waiting for you at.

You had swam up to your usual spot, waiting for Tenko. Tonight, you were a bit more impatient. You had been practicing the phrase Tenko told you the night before and were excited to tell him. You felt the footsteps approaching, the vibrations rippling through the air and water. Something felt off. The footsteps were heavier than Tenko’s. A small voice in the back of your mind screamed at you to swim away, but in your excitement to impress Tenko, you pushed the thought back. Perhaps Tenko just wasn’t feeling well.

Finally, a figure appeared over the edge of the railing. You popped your head up from below the surface, splashing water as you threw your arms up in the air to exclaim “Love you!”

It happened too fast for you to comprehend. At a dizzying speed, a net was thrown over you, trapping you in and dragging you across the water before hoisting you up into the air. You struggled against the bindings, crying breathlessly, “Tenko! Tenko!”

As the net containing you was swung around the ship to hold you over the deck, you heard a rough, dark voice. “Tenko? No, doll. The name’s Dabi.”

You were dropped unceremoniously on the deck floor, net still draped over you.

In the commotion, Tenko had returned from the kitchens. He ran towards Dabi and you, trapped under the heavy net on the hard flooring. Whatever he was holding in his hands fell to the floor.

“No!” Tenko cried, calling out your name, reaching for you.

“Please don’t!” Tenko sobbed, falling on his knees. “Please. You don’t understand. I love her. Mermaids mate for life! I’m sure she feels the same for me.”

An inexplicable anger rushed over Dabi at Tenko’s pleading. When had Tenko ever been with a woman? And he expects this mythical beauty to love him? Dabi felt that he could burn up his whole ship with his rage at his first mate’s stupidity.

That at least, is what he told himself. Dabi would be the last to admit that he was actually jealous of Tenko and whatever relationship he had with you. You were beautiful beyond words. How a creature as breathtaking as you could love someone as shrimpy as Tenko was beyond Dabi, and it left him pissed.

“Would you just shut up!” Dabi spat at him. “Are you stupid? I thought you were the expert here. You should know it doesn’t have any feelings. It doesn’t love you, it only wants to kill you.”

Dabi’s cruel words ached in Tenko’s heart. He clutched at the thin fabric of his shirt over his chest.

“You’re a pitiful excuse of a man! If you love her so much, then just take her from me!” He dragged the net off your shaking frame. “Oh wait. I’d have ya tossed overboard for mutiny. What a piss situation for you then. Well! Go on! Watch your woman, your thing, get claimed as your captain’s!”

Tenko’s head dropped. His whole body dropped. His hands gripped his dirty pants so tight his knuckles turned white. Tears ran down his face, dripping off his chin and onto his dry, cracking knuckles and pants.

Dabi swung a leg over you to straddle you at your waist, knees pressing in on either side of your slippery fin.

“Let a real man show you some real fun. Okay, babe?” Dabi smiled down at your quivering form, shaking with fear and cold.

Dabi ran a long, cold finger up and down over your small slit, just below where your fin and waist merged. After it had gained enough wetness from your natural slick and the ocean water that was still dripping off you, Dabi pushed the rough finger into you, causing you to gasp and jump.

“She’s so tight, Tenko!” Dabi exclaimed as he curled a finger against your spongy walls. “Well, damn! If I’d have known she was this tight, I’d have caught her a long time ago. Why didn’t you tell me she’d be this tight? Holdin’ out on your captain now?”

You thrashed around the deck, beating your tail against the wooden floor of the deck and gasping for air, reaching out for Tenko, as Dabi continued to finger fuck you.

“Tenko! Tenko!” you sobbed.

“How many times do you have to tell you, bitch?” Dabi growled. “The word you’re looking for is Dabi.” He shoved two more fingers in your small slit, pumping a few times before spreading them. “Gotta make sure this little mer-cunt is nice and stretched out for me.” Dabi chuckled to himself.

Dabi continued to finger fuck you as you sobbed below him. Your clawing at the wood of the deck had stopped, little scratch marks left behind in the wake. The air was heavy with the sounds of you gasping for air between your sobs and hiccups and the squelching of Dabi’s fingers in you.

“Oh? And what’s this?” Dabi took the hand that wasn’t busy with your cunt and poked a finger around your tighter hole just above the slit he currently had three dirty fingers stuffed in. He basked in your widening eyes and shocked gasps as he continued to finger around.

“Tell me, Tenko,” Dabi mused. “Is this her tight little asshole?”

Tenko, still staring at the deck, answered bleakly. “Yes, captain.”

“Fascinating.” Dabi slid his thumb past the rim of muscle. A thrill ran down his spine as you jumped underneath him.

“You like that, baby?” Dabi applied more pressure with his thumb. You squirmed more beneath him and cried.

“Shhhh” Dabi cooed. “You’ll feel good real soon.” He turned to Tenko, who could be mistaken for a statue with how still the man was. “Tenko, tell me where her clit is.”

“She doesn’t have one like a human girl, sir,” came the small, dry reply.

“Oh? Then how is she supposed to feel any pleasure?”

“You see the thin skin around her waist? Right by her fin and skin?”

“Yes. What about it?”

“That’s her skirt. Right at the base of her skirt, where it dips in that V shape, that’s essentially her clit.”

“Ah, right here?” Dabi took the thumb out of your ass and pressed against the small V where your fin and skin met.

You couldn’t contain the moan that spilled out of your mouth. Dabi smirked at your reaction.

“Bingo,” he said, as he massaged small circular patterns in that spot. He curled the fingers inside you, pressing against your gummy walls, before dragging them out. As your moans increased in pitch, Dabi increased his speed. Soon, you were putty in his hands, on the brink of orgasm.

“Come for me, doll.” Dabi whispered as your walls clenched on his fingers. He pressed once more on your “clit” and the knot tightening within you broke. You threw your head back against the wood of the deck, eyes squeezing shut, and cried out.

“Good girl. Good girl.” Dabi praised.

Once you had calmed down from your orgasm, Dabi raised up to his knees, still trapping you underneath him. Your previous orgasm in combination with the fight you had put up left you exhausted below him. You looked up at the clinking of Dabi undoing his belt. He pushed his ratty pants down just far enough to release his aching cock. Being with you had excited him in a way that no human girl he had slept with before ever had. He had never been so hard and just watching you writhe behind him was enough to turn his cock an angry purple, precum leaking from the tip.

Your eyes widened in fear as you took in the sight of him. He was bigger, much much bigger than any merman your mated sisters had told you about. He was pierced too, a Jacob’s ladder crawling up the underside of his massive length. This was completely foreign to you, and only served to make you all the more scared. Your adrenaline kicked in once again, and you resumed your beating and clawing against the deck, screaming “Tenko! Tenko!”

Tenko sobs resumed as he heard your calls for him. He could do nothing but watch Dabi stroke himself with you fighting beneath him.

“Please,” he rasped, barely audible.

“Would you just shut the fuck up before you make me go soft?” Dabi shouted at the man.

Tenko bowed his head again, resembling a kicked puppy. He sobbed and hiccuped, only serving to turn Dabi on more despite what he had just yelled at the man.

Dabi gave himself a few languid pumps as he lined himself up with your sopping cunt. You stilled as you felt the tip against you, frozen in fear.

“This is going to hurt at first, but I promise you’ll feel good soon,” he whispered to you, placing a hand on either side of your head and dipping down to kiss you. You turned your face to avoid him, only causing the possessed man to laugh.

As Dabi pushed himself in, inch by agonizing inch, your mouth fell open in a silent scream. Your hands scratched at the floor of the deck, trying to find purchase as Dabi stretched you. Dabi let out a groan as he bottomed out, tip kissing your cervix. The initial stretch felt like it was burning you from the inside out. He was too big.

“God. You must be a virgin, huh? Ready for the real fun, doll?” Dabi smiled down at you before pulling out and slamming back in.

You gave a scream, and threw your arms around Dabi, desperately trying to hold on to something, causing him to chuckle. He repeated the motion, again and again. You buried your face into the crook of his neck. The pirate smelt awful, but you were too scared to let go of him. However, as he had promised you earlier, the pain had subsided into something much better. You couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of Dabi’s piercing dragging along your walls, his cockhead hititng your cervix with each thrust.

“I’m not gonna last long.” Dabi grunted against your ear. Between your soft moans and warm, sticky cunt, Dabi was in ecstasy.

He lifted a hand to press back at your sensitive spot, causing you to squeal and tighten your grip on him. Your walls spasmed around him and clamped down on his cock. As he picked up his speed, Dabi’s thrusts became sloppy, beating against the barrier to your womb.

“Gonna cum,” Dabi panted. “Cum with me. Cum all over this too big cock.” He pressed on your spot, and your orgasm ripped through you, hot pleasure running through your body as Dabi painted your insides white.

As Dabi pulled himself out of your vise grip, cum dribbled out of your too small hole. Dabi marveled at your gaping cunt, whistling at the mess he had made of you.

“Would you look at that,” he spread your hole, causing more cum to leak out.

He stood up over you to fix his pants. Once he was fully dressed again, Dabi picked you up, cum still leaking out of your small slit, and dropped your lifeless, ragdoll form on the hard floor of the deck in front of Tenko, who lunged for you.

Tenko cradled you in his arms. Your head lolled over his arm as his fell on your shoulder. His tears dripped down on your barely rising chest as sobbed racked through his small frame, the salty tears from the both of you mixing with the ocean water on the deck.

Dabi scoffed at the scene in front of him.

“Better go get her some water and fast. How long can mermaids be out of water, again? Doesn’t look like she has a lot of time left,” He said to Tenko. Dabi wouldn’t be surprised if you were in shock.

He turned on the heel of his boot to retire for the night, but soft, broken sob stopped him in his tracks.

“Daaaah-beeee. Daaah-bee. Dabi. Dabi!” Despite being held safe in Tenko’s arms, you were reaching out for Dabi, crying for the man who had devastated you. Your pitiful state pierced his heart.

Mermaids mate for life.

#dabi mha #dabi x reader #scummy dabi #mermaid au #pirate au #I can’t stand Dabi #but here I am writing him again #OTL

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