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lazyneonrabbitt · 4 months

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Savior

Daryl Dixon x Savior!Reader

You show a little too much interest in Negan's new prisoner so he uses you as a test subject.

CW: Non-con, forced impregnation.

You stood at the sidelines as you stared at the truck coming back from a supply run.

Except those weren't supplies in the truck bed.

You almost wanted to say it was a monster.

You quickly learned, by the horrible sounds all night and day, that it was some kind of beast. Its howls and roars had you barely sleeping and wandering the halls until you caught Negan's voice. "And why are we snooping around at night?"

You had rounded a corner and walked into him and his high rank buddies having what seemed to be an important conversation.

"Apologies, Negan. I'm having a hard time sleeping with that think you brought in making so much noise." Negan stepped up to you, his red scarf taking up most of your vision before he bent down and placed a hand at the side of your neck, his thumb brushing your cheek. "Come by the room tomorrow after breakfast time. Got a job for you. And I'll show you what I caught. Win, right?"

That disgusting smug look of his haunted your mind every time you closed your eyes. You didn't trust him, but not showing up would mean your slow, painful end. And you couldn't say you were at least a bit curious about the captured thing.

So the next morning you made quick work of your breakfast and headed back up to your floor and to the appointed room, where two of Negan's henchmen already kept watch at the door. "Negan will be here soon. You can wait here."

Ugh. Always the friendly talks with these guys.

"Well good morning to you, miss." The chuckle that left him sent shivers down your spine. "You're even earlier than me! That excited to see what you're gonna do?" He brushed past you, shoulders grazing as he made his way up to the door and unlocked it.

You were the last one to enter the room, waiting your turn as all the high ranks came before you always.

You were backed up against the wall the second your eyes found the source of the noises that kept you awake.

A giant wolf like beast, dull brown fur with greying spots, the brightest blue eyes you had ever seen and also the most terrifying set or teeth and claws. It was massive as well, tied down and clearly drugged as it weakly trashed against its restrains.

"Thanks for showing me, s.. sir. I'll go do that job now."

The second you spoke, the henchmen took place at the door and Negan handed you a large plastic beaker. "Good! Go jerk off the big dog. Give him a nice rub." He pressed the beaker against your chest. "And don't spill anything or I'm having you do it more than once."

You looked over at the beast and took the beaker in hand. It had given up the struggle to get loose. "Boys. Help the lady roll him over."

With a couple simple moves the beast was moved onto his back and the men surrounded you with guns.

"Well? Go on! Better do it now before he wakes all the way up."

You stared at the beast's nethers where its fur thickened and moved your hands to rub at the spot. With your hands in his fur his body twitched, a low noise escaping his maw but you had to continue. You stroked the are in the hoped you'd coax his member out and after a bit it finally started to show.

Fuck it was huge. About the size of your lower leg and so red.

But you really had to get to work. Negan hated waiting.

So you wrapped your hands around the beast's length and stroked, earning more noises and twitches that weren't stopping this time. With every rub you noticed the base of his length swell, the thickened part being seemingly even more sensitive than the rest.

"Make it fun to watch for us. Give it a lick, pretend to have fun at least." Negan's voice spooked you so much you squeezed particularly hard and earned what sounded like a whine from the beast. Shit, was it waking up? You really had to hurry.

So you lowered your mouth to kiss at the beast's tip, open your mouth as far as you could and suck at it, licking at it like your life depended on it. Which it did, really.

You were getting more and more responses from the drugged monster at your fingertips indicating it was gonna come sooner rather than later.

You moved one hand to squeeze the swell at the base as your other hand held the beaker at the tip. You rubbed and licked, trying to keep a steady hold on everything as the beast picked up his trashing again, mewling out loudly as his hips jerked and stilled. Thick spurts of cum filling the beaker, its load bigger than any you had ever seen.

Once the beast stilled it seemed to have worked through its tranquilizers and started waking up, growling and turning.

The men closest to you grabbed you and the filled beaker aside before you'd get kicked in the face by a still woozy monster.

"Well look at that!" Negan had snatched up the beaker and sat it on the desk, rummaging in the drawers for something.

"And now for the fun part. Take your pants off." He waved Lucille at you, motioning to hurry up and in fear of your life you complied.

With shaking fingers you unbuttoned your pants, trying to ignore the gawking eyes of multiple men.

"Panties too, sweetcheeks. Can't do anything with those on can you?" Negan had showed up behind you and snagged the waistband of your underwear only to smack it back against your ass. His hand was on your waist in a second to lead you to the desk, pulling the panties down your ass and gesturing for you to take them off and take a seat. On the desk.

His hands went to rest on your thighs and spread them wide open as he stood in front of you with his signature grin.

His hand went to reach for something and held it out in your view. "Go ahead."

"This little thing here." A syringe filled with the just acquired beast semen dangled from his fingertips. "Goes in that pretty little pussy of yours and you're going to empty it entirely."

He pressed the syringe into your hand and stepped back and out of the beast's way.

It stared up at you and you stared right back, hands trembling around step two of your job.

The eyes on you made you feel small and fear was clouding your mind as you stared at the beast before you, your hands ever so slowly moving down your body as Negan had grabbed hold of Lucille as a warning.

The point made it to your slit and the beast gave a growl in protest but you had to continue. You gave him a sorry look as you pressed the syringe past your entrance, all the way to the ends and pressed the plunger down as far as it could go. He roared in protest, fighting his restraints but with his paws bound and the IV in his back he couldn't do anything but watch you spill his seed inside of you.

You were guarded and monitored every single day and were losing an awful lot of sleep thanks to that absolutely horrible song playing on loop to torture some prisoner.

Dwight was the one escorting you today. He brought food and vitamins on pickup for your daily checkup and he looked uncomfortable.

He stayed at your side for the whole appointment and walked you back to your room. His orders included making sure you ate and took the provided vitamins so he accompanied you.

"I'm sorry for what he's making you do." His words caught you by surprise, hoping he wasn't just making you lower your guard around him so they can hurt you more. "Look. I overheard Negan talking about his plans. If you're a success he's gonna do it to others, and Sherry's at the top of that list."

Sherry. You knew her, she's his wife and went through a lot of shit with Negan ready. He probably plans to get back at the both of them this way.

"I'm barely sleeping because I'm so scared. What if this kills me after he's done it to all the other women?" It struck a cord of fear within him as you said it, not knowing what he'd do if Negan ended up killing his wife.

"I'm getting rid of his stash, so he can't hurt anyone else and take the beast's IV out so it can escape. I know it won't do anything for your situation but it's all I can do."

You agreed with his plan and told him to be careful. You didn't like him much but he was helping you so you didn't want to see him hurt.

And only a few days later, just as you had gotten the official yes on being pregnant, chaos ensued.

Outside your room you heard stuff breaking, people screaming and heavy thuds and roars of the beast moving around. Dwight succeeded

And then it got quiet.

Really quiet.

No more cries and howls of torture, and no more of that shitty song on loop.

You could finally sleep, so sleep you did.

It wasn't long before Negan summoned you for interrogation but you kept up the lie of knowing nothing and it worked great, now that you had the only offspring of the monster growing inside of you. You were sent back to your room to be a prisoner again, constantly monitored for an entire month, kept away from all the mess between Sanctuary and the other communities until the war truly broke out.

You stopped getting your daily vitamins delivered but now got a week long supply each time, and were allowed to, with one of your guards, to head downstairs for free food. You felt a bit more comfortable with two women at your door now, they understood your condition and showed some care at least. And Negan had needed all the men he could get to fight so they were the only option.

Eventually one of the women came inside the room to keep watch over you, informing about the communities having arrived at Sanctuary and things getting ugly. You sat together and waited. Talked about all kinds of things, trying to keep the topic off Negan's plans for you and to your luck, just before running out of conversation material someone came running through the door.

"We lost. Negan's gone and they took over. They fucked with our weapons." And with that she left again, slamming the door behind her on the way out.

Your guard had gotten up and moved out the room. "You stay put. I'm gonna check it out."

With you being alone and not even wanting to leave the room you laid back down in bed and waited for someone to come back with news. You had enough supplies here to last you a few days and you knew your way to the doc's place if you really needed something.

Not that you made it that far when you went out, because with five steps in, you heard someone call out.

"Ey, you. C'mere, where ya headed?" You didn't recognize it so you knew you were fucked.

Turning around you raised your hands to show you were unarmed, and the man's crossbow dropped the second your eyes met. "Infirmary. I ran out of meds." With your hands up you pointed down at your stomach, only to realize you wore loose clothing that hid your small bump. You went to grab for the hem of your shirt when the man's crossbow rose to take aim again. "I swear I'm unarmed." One hand stayed raised while the other ever so slowly went to pull up your shirt and show him your stomach. "I need the vitamins."

The crossbow dropped again as he walked up to you, stating you were going together. "Can't have ya gettin' shot on sight by our people."

The two of you made your way to the infirmary and you found a big stash of prenatal vitamins and pocketed them all while the man dug around to make inventory. "So, what's your plan with us? The ones who just live here?" You couldn't help but be scared out of your mind now that the other communities that Negan had been torturing for so long had taken his down, sure they'd want revenge.

"Ain't sure. M'not the boss. Just checkin' the area." He rummaged through a cabinet and pocketed some random stuff before turning his attention back to you. "M'takin' ya home to Alexandria. Can't have ya bein' alone with them pups in ya." His words had you almost trip over air as you paced the room and whipped your head in his direction. You tried to find the right response but your silence spoke even louder. "Look," He got closer so you couldn't run, but you just watched him and waited for him to continue.

He didn't speak, but right before your eyes he opened his mouth in which sharp fangs appeared and his eyes glowed.

"Holy shit, you." You looked him over once, twice and matched up some of the beast's features with the human in front of you.

"Wait." You pointed at him, then at your belly and stared to which he nodded his head. "Yeah. S'why 'm takin' ya home with me." He held out a hand to you and you carefully shook it, slowly starting to feel okay around him as you exchanged introductions.

"So, what now?" You didn't even know what you were asking about. Now-now? 'Home'-now? What about those apparently pups-now?

Daryl took you back out of the building after letting you gather your important belongings and met back with the ones from his community who had left behind, and you talked the whole way.

About how you wanted none of this and while you were thankful for Dwight getting rid of the leftovers and made sure no other women suffered your fate, you still somewhere wished it never took in the first place. Daryl could feel your hurt, and felt responsible for you even if he was just the donor. "I wanna help ya be comfortable. We didn't choose this but I think we can work sum'n out."

Yeah. You never wanted this to happen to you, but neither did Daryl and now you were both forced into being parents.

But you believed his words, you weren't sure if it was because you were connected now, but you were almost excited to go see where Daryl lived.

"I'm staying with you, right? They're not gonna make me live with strangers? I.. I don't think they'll trust me and--"

"Yer with me." His voice was stern, as to prove a point. "They ain't sayin' no to ya, ye'll be livin' at mah place. Wanna keep an eye on ya." He sounded almost ..excited?

"C'mon, we're leavin'. Ya should be restin'." Daryl helped you pack your stuff in the car with a man named Aaron and then took you to his ride.

A motorcycle you had seen Dwight on before. Now that you looked at Daryl better, you had seen Dwight in that vest too..

It took a moment to get comfortable behind Daryl on his bike, unsure where to hold onto and not wanting to press your belly against him and make him uncomfortable.

Once you and your stuff was all safe behind the walls of Alexandria and tucked away in your new house you allowed yourself to breathe.

Breathing quickly turned to crying, tears hidden under the warm shower while Daryl stood at the other side of the door. Your overwhelming negative outburst worried him and came to find you only to be stopped by a closed bathroom door. Not that it was locked, but he would never invade your privacy like that unless it was a life or death situation.

All he could do now was wait for you to be done in there and talk to you afterwards. He slumped against the wall beside door and listened to your muffled cries until they died down.

When you had scrubbed all of Sanctuary off your skin and your hair smelled of conditioner again you dried off and dressed in fresh, comfortable clothes and left the room only to find Daryl asleep next to the door. He sat propped up against the wall, his head lolled to the side and soft snores coming from him.

You tried to carefully wake him but he jumped up in attack immediately, dropping his hands and relaxing the moment he realized it was just you. "Shit m'sorry. Still ain't doi--" "It's okay, really. They hurt you pretty bad." Daryl took your now clean and relaxed self in, staring you up and down but hovering at your midsection. You had swapped the oversized hoodie for a tighter longsleeve that hugged your newly acquired curves perfectly. When you looked up at him he was still staring. It was really sweet how the admiration was visible even though he'd never admit it.

Your hand reached forward to take his and slowly placed his palm flat against your stomach. "You're their father, Daryl. You're allowed to touch."

Daryl's eyes shot up to yours, a whirlwind of emotions going through him as you spoke again.

"If you're up for it I'd like you to be their dad, too. I know we didn't choose this but we can choose now."

Daryl gave it a thought and yeah, you were right. What they did to both of you was nothing shy of traumatic, and while for Daryl it was technically over now that he was home again, you were still in the middle of it. "Yeah," he started. "Wanna try'n be their dad." You smiled up at him and he happily took in the loving look in your eyes.

"So ehh.." you couldn't help but shy away a little at the thought of your question. "You maybe.. wanna sleep with me tonight?" The deepest red ran up Daryl's cheeks as he avoided your gaze, but did stammer "Yeah."

Oh he was so cute as a human. So shy like this, unlike his ferocious beast side you heard killed some folks on his way out of Sanctuary.

So you pushed a bit, stepping against him so your small bump pressed against his stomach as your arms wrapped around his waist. "Can we do some pretend babymaking too? To make it feel a bit more real, please?" The last words were spoken an inch away from his lips, batting your eyelashes at him and pouting your lips.

It was like you had found the secret code to shut off his brain as he just stood there frozen until you backed off and laughed. The sound seemed to wake him up, seeing him think up an answer.

"Yeah. I think I'd like tha."

A/N: This idea had been making its rounds in my head for a while so now I finally wrote it.

#sometimes i write #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd #the walking dead #twd au #werewolves #werewolf #human x monster #human x werewolf

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julinasblog · 3 months

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BACK AGAIN (E.W.) pt.1

cw: swearing, mini backstory, 16 & 19 flashback age gap, mentions of smoking and drinking, bad terms, little bit of anxiety, (uses of Y/N), cliffhanger, mentions of abandonment, future smut in pt 2.

note: this is my first actual writing and post so bare w me 😭. please give me recommendations and or requests !! ❤️ also the start of this is pretty slow, sorry !! let me know if you guys want a second part ❣️

summary: On your walk back home, you suddenly get a message from your best friend who is updating you on a special someone who recently came back to town and wants to catch up after ending on bad terms.

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

Usually on late nights like now you'd find yourself with Dina, in her car, driving you home. but tonight was different. You took the normal route but this time you had to walk from Dina's place, as always because tonight she was with Jesse of course, but, she promised to make it up to you, and she kept her promises.

So here you were at 1:00am, wandering the streets of your neighborhood. Recently there has been much talk about weirdos and hobos roaming the area. Not that it scared you.. (Which is what you tried to convince yourself.) You continued walking until a sudden familiar ding was heard from you phone, followed but a ring.

"Hello??"

"Girl. I've been texting you. Where are you?"

"Dina, I'm fine i'm like five minutes away from my house, I'll survive."

You knew Dina cared for you.

"Alright, alright. Just let me know when you get home. Again, i'm sorry for the quick change of plans."

"Dina, it's fine. Just go spend some time with Jesse, you deserve it."

From the other side of the phone Dina rolled her eyes playfully as she smiled.

"Thanks, I owe you."

"Big time." You joked

You hung up and as soon as you knew it, you arrived home. "Ugh finally." You grabbed your phone out and shot a quick text to Dina, as you said you would.

Y/N : 'finally home as always, and i survived too!?..huh!'

Dina : 'yeah, yeah whatever, BUT off topic you'll never guess who just texted me.'

Y/N : 'huh? who'

Dina : 'bitch, guess.'

Y/N : 'cmon, i have nothing to work with, just tell me'

Dina : '🙄 i was expecting more of a dramatic guess but THE Ellie Williams just texted me. She said she's back in town, her and that cat girl just broke up, so she moved back here.'

Y/N : 'WHATTT. don't tell me she's moving back to our city...'

Dina : 'you guessed it!'

Y/N : 'shitt, i haven't seen her since i was like 16. i hope she forgot about me, we ended on horrible terms girl. 😭'

After a while you continued your night waiting from a response from Dina until finally, you felt tired enough to go upstairs into your room onto your bed and you began shutting your eyes.

Multiple rings awoken you, suddenly making you rise up with a hand to your chest, over your heart. You took a look at your phone revealing a missed call from Dina and a few new messages. You glanced at the time. 10:47am. "Fuck, I fucking slept in again." You whined before you sat up on the edge of your bed before opening the notifications.

Dina : 'bitch wake tf up , I HAVE NEWS. SHE IS ASKING ABOUT YOU.'

Dina sent you a screenshot of their messages. Chatting back and fourth before one of Ellie's text lands on your name, reading, 'What about Y/N? You guys still friends?' Dina simply replied, 'Yes, still. Are you guys talking? Good terms?' Which made you laugh out loud. Dina was clearly playing dumb. You scrolled the the next screenshot to Ellie saying...'No. Haven't heard from her. Do you have her number? I would talk to her but she's probably still held back from that biatch Nate.' Nate was your ex from your sophomore year. Ellie hated him. Nate would always ignore you and you would always be wrapped around his fingers whenever you could be. Ellie hated you for it, in-fact, she hated both of you for it.

Y/N : 'DAMNMNN. DON'T TELL HER ANYTHING I'M BEGGING YOU. 🙏🙏'

Dina : 'look who is finally up. but seriously, trust me I didn't tell her anything..yet..she invited us and jesse and some other friends of hers to a hotbox.....'

Y/N : 'no way. we're not going.'

Dina : 'Cmon, it'll be fine. we'll even catch up and you guys can get back to being on good terms. I won't force you, but think about it pleaseee.'

Y/N : 'girllll, fine. only if you stay with me and we only stay for a little bit. i seriously don't wanna face her after so many years. when is it?'

Dina : 'THANK YOU. i'll stick with you the whole time, i promise. it's at six. she said it's nothing fancy but their gonna smoke and probably drink. I'll pick you up around 5:20 okay? SEE YOUU. xoxo'

"Ugh. This is gonna be humiliating..why did I say yes.." you groaned and was staring to rethink her choices before she got off the bed and looked for an outfit. Nothing fancy. Simple flared yoga pants and a grey camisole with a hoodie tied around the waist. After a few minutes of changing you went downstairs to brush your teeth and ya started to get ready for the day.

5:12pm Dina : 'omw'

Y/N : 'i'm gonna shit my pants.'

Dina pulled in the driveway honking. You grabbed your purse, keys, and your phone as you walked outside into Dina's car.

"You ready or what?" Dina asked, clearly confident. "Where is this place anyway? Is this in some sketchy van or like some type of room?" You asked, ready for any possible answer. "Well.. close. It's at Ellie's house- or well, basement." Dina said as she began driving. "Seriously? Out of all places we're going to her house!? She's gonna murder me or something?! She probably remembers the old snotty me from high-school." you whined which made Dina chuckle, "Relax. It's just catching up. She was like 19 and you were 16. Let's be real. She's probably over it by now." Dina said, reassuring.

6:02pm. You both arrived. Ellie's driveway was pretty packed. "Dina i'm actually gonna shit my pants." you said, CLEARLY SCARED. Meanwhile, Dina texted Ellie letting her know that the two arrived. "Cmon, it's fine. We're fine. We can stay for a little and leave." Dina said. Soon they prepared and both entered and followed everyone downstairs where Ellie was spotted.

"Ellie!" Dina obnoxiously shouted to which you playfully, but forcefully punched Dina's arm just before Ellie walked over, and boy did she look different. Mullet auburn hair, a toned body, a tattoo, her clothing was different...her tank...and her sweatpants...She looked so...-

Until tapping was suddenly felt on your shoulder. "oh..uh hm?" You looked at Dina who was looking at you right before Ellie came over.

"shitt, you look..different.." Ellie's eyes scanned Dina up and down before she focused on you. "Shit? Y/N? You look different as hell too." This made you feel some type of way but you just couldn't describe it. Dina noticed your lack of comfort and she began talking. "Hey, how have you been, El? It's been a while." No shit, you thought. It's been three years since she left for her, now ex-girlfriend. She left as soon as she turned 19, abandoning you, but she kept little contact with you before she had completely ghosted you. "I'm doing well. But it's been like.. three years, yeah?" Ellie scoffed before she continued. "..we're about to play a game of truth or down in five if you guys are down." Ellie suggested.. but Ellie kept her glance off you but only on Dina.

But Something felt off.

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flowerandblood · 11 months

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Green Snake, Red Lion (6)

[Slytherin • Aemond x Gryffindor • female]

[warnings: kissing, mention of sex, fluff]

[description: Aemond is a Chaser and captain of the Slytherin team. His biggest rival on the pitch from the Gryffindor team, turned to be his biggest fan, and he hates her with all of his heart. His hatred towards her slowly turns into something else, when she one day stands up for his sister, Helaena. This is slow burn love story.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

Even though they both tried to fall asleep, all they got out of it was short naps between kissing and touching. With her so close to himself, Aemond couldn't help planting tender, innocent kisses on her lips every time she made a movement in his arms, opening her sleepy, thirst-warmed eyes.

She reciprocated his tenderness fervently and passionately, massaging his lips with hers with a soft, muffled moan, stroking his hair with her hand. Aemond didn't dare touch her between her thighs again that night. He knew that part of her was horrified by what had happened between them.

In the morning he felt her trying to gently extricate herself from his grip and get up. He didn't let her, letting out a low growl of displeasure, not even opening his eye. He pulled her even closer to himself, hugging her from behind, his nose in her hair. He heard her swallow hard.

"I should go to my bedroom. I wouldn't want your parents to catch me here." She spoke softly and painedly.

He opened his eye at her words, feeling uneasy at the way that she said the phrase. He felt his heart pounding hard.

"It's only dawn. We can lie together for a while if you want." He said softly, kissing subtly the patch of skin on her neck exposed to him. She didn't answer him for a long moment. He felt her chest rise and fall unsteadily in his embrace.

"…will you tell your teammates about what happened between us?" She asked in a whisper, terrified, her voice breaking at the end as if she was about to cry.

Aemond raised himself quickly on one elbow, wanting to look at her face, frowning. She turned her head away, but he took her cheeks in his hand and gently forced her to look at him. Her eyes were terrified. He thought with a sinking heart that she regretted what they had done.

"What are you talking about?" He asked uncertainly, all tense, his eye expressing concern.

He felt pale, his stomach clenched into a tight knot. Solren swallowed softly, one tear slipping from the corner of her eye down the side of her face.

"You're going to pretend that nothing happened between us, right? When we get back to Hogwarts." She whispered. He felt his heart leap into his throat. For a moment he couldn't get anything out.

He didn't want to announce to the whole world that he had slept with the opposing team's best player. He didn't want to give cause for gossip about them. He also wanted to give himself some time to get used to this new situation. He wasn't going to take it as a one-off, though, like with the random girls in the restroom.

He didn't want this to be their last time. He didn't want to stop talking to her either. It was just that what was going on between them surpassed him in every possible social way. He didn't know how to explain it, so she didn't feel like he was throwing her away. He sighed softly, running a hand over his face.

“I…fuck, it's not like that. I mean – ugh, damn it." He shook his head, stuttering, everything he could think of sounded hopeless and evasive. She looked at him, sniffling, all red. She swallowed silently.

"I'd like to keep this between us, but that doesn't mean that I want to forget about it and end it there." He said after a little thought. Solren blinked, twisting in place, pressing her lips together, apparently processing his words in her mind.

"So what would you like?" She asked uncertainly, but there was a note of hope in her voice and she was no longer crying. Aemond sighed, rubbing his temple.

“I guess… I mean… I – fuck – I just wish that we were together like we are now. Didn't analyze too much and saw, what – um – would come of it." He finally said with difficulty, but somehow relieved that he had managed to say what he really felt. He looked at her uncertainly and saw her face lighten slightly. She nodded.

"All right." She said and smiled warmly, sniffling, her eyes bright and happy again. He smiled involuntarily at the sight, his hand ran over her warm, red cheek.

"I'm gonna kiss you now, okay? I will also do this at school." He hummed as he leaned over her, stealing from her a long, lingering, sticky kiss. She murmured into his mouth contentedly, apparently expressing her full consent to fulfill his desire.

They spent the rest of the morning kissing, touching each other's cheeks and hair, enjoying the intimacy that they knew would soon be unavailable for them again. Aemond was relieved that she wasn't expecting straight answers and precise statements of his feelings from him right away.

All of this was very difficult for him, but at the same time it filled him with an indescribable satisfaction. The thought that perhaps she had been in love with him from the very beginning filled him no longer with discouragement, but with a pleasant, warm feeling melting in his heart.

Solren ate breakfast with his family, then they all gathered to transfer to Kings Cross Station. For this, they used a passage hidden in one of the subway stations, enchanted in such a way as to exit on platform 9 ¾, created for Hogwarts students.

As they stepped out onto the platform, a large red and black locomotive was waiting ahead of them, surrounded by students with suitcases and their pets, joyfully greeting each other after the break and saying goodbye to their families. Aemond, Aegon, and Helaena also exchanged polite farewells with their parents, and Solren thanked them for their hospitality.

Helaena and Solren went ahead, talking to each other. Aemond and she tried not to look at each other, but they were doing rather poorly. They were both shocked by what had happened between them and how intense the experience was. Aegon was telling him how he couldn't wait to get back on the pitch and play Quidditch again, but Aemond, though agreeing with him, couldn't concentrate on what he was saying.

He stared at Gryffindor's skirt, thinking of her hips which he squeezed so hard as he fucked her. About how wonderful it felt to be sunk between her thighs, how tight and wet she was, just for him. He swallowed hard, feeling his cock throbbing in his pants at the thought. He flinched when Aegon mentioned her name.

“… it's good that she will play again. She's the only Gryffindor I like, and I have to admit, she's quite pretty. I hope you don't see this as a betrayal of the team, but I want to flirt with her a little and see what comes of it." He grunted, brushing his hair casually, as he pushed his way through the crowd of people.

Aemond felt his heart stop for a moment. He pursed his lips, unable to utter a word.

"She already has someone." He blurted out after a moment, not even thinking about what he was saying.

He immediately felt embarrassment at what he had said, and felt as if he would burn with shame. He'd told her that he didn't want anyone to know about it, and he'd just betrayed them himself. He thought that he was a fucking hypocrite and squeezed his eye shut. Aegon raised an eyebrow at him, surprised.

"Really? And how do you know about it?” He asked curiously, recognizing that it was knowledge did not seem to match their level of familiarity. Aemond looked away.

“Helaena told me. If you'd talked to our sister more instead of pretending that she didn't exist, you'd know that too." He lied with surprising ease, feeling his heart pounding wildly as he climbed the steps into one of the train cars that Helaena and Solren had boarded moments earlier. Aegon sighed heavily as he followed him inside.

"Who's the lucky guy?" He asked with irony, looking with him for some free compartment. Aemond saw Helaena and Solren enter one, Solren waved for them to follow them. Aemond felt his throat tighten. He wanted to hiss that he is and tell Aegon to fucking stay away from her.

"I don't know." He said low, furious with himself and with him for some reason.

They followed the girls into the compartment and made themselves comfortable. Helaena and Solren sat on one side, Aemond and Aegon sat on the other. Before Aemond had even taken off his cloak, Aegon asked a question, that made him freeze.

"I heard you have someone, cutie. Who is that?” He asked with amusement, leaning his head against the backrest.

Solren blinked, surprised, completely confused about what he was talking about. She looked at Aemond and saw his terrified, pleading look that said it all. She swallowed hard, her eyes dropping to the floor as she thought hard about how to lie.

"I… well, I don't want to say anything because it's not certain yet." She said softly, pressing her lips together, as she glanced at Aegon. He raised an eyebrow, obviously not satisfied with the answer.

"How is it? You don't know if you want to be with him? Tell me who it is and I'll tell you if it's worth it." He smirked, looking at her expectantly.

Aemond covered his face with his hand, resting his arm on the armrest, feeling that he was about to die of shame and the awkwardness that he had put her in.

Solren turned all red, he could see the physical effort that she was putting into thinking at the moment. Helaena looked at her curiously, as if only now realizing what they were talking about.

"You didn't tell me that you were seeing someone." She said, but there was no regret in that voice, only curiosity and soft warmth joy at her happiness. Aegon looked at his brother, frowning.

“You said, that you learned it from Helaena. You…” He said and suddenly stopped talking, as if he had connected several threads. He looked at Solren, then back at his brother, leaning forward, mouth open in disbelief.

"You must be fucking kidding me. "She's already taken but I don't know who it is?" Seriously?" He said, mocking his brother's voice impatiently. Solren pursed her lips, red with embarrassment, looking at Aemond in surprise.

He rubbed his face, sighing heavily. He looked at her with an expression of utter hopelessness on his face. Whatever happened, there was no turning back. He wasn't going to deny it and say that they had nothing in common.

Aegon's confession made him realize painfully quickly that he didn't want to share her at all. Not after what happened between them. He couldn't bear the thought of anyone else touching her the way he did.

Fucking her the way he did.

"You just surprised me. It was supposed to stay between us for now." He said finally, lowering his gaze, dropping some small powder from his pants on which he focused his gaze, avoiding the eyes of his brother. "Yes, we are together."

There was silence in the compartment. Aegon sank back into his seat, shaking his head, amusement mixed with disbelief on his face.

The Gryffindor stared at Aemond with pursed lips, and when he looked at her, he saw joy and happiness. She lowered her eyelids timidly, playing with the material of her skirt, barely holding back the wide smile that appeared on her face.

"That's wonderful, I'm so happy for you!" Helaena said lightly, pressing herself against her arm, closing her eyes with a dreamy smile on her face.

They spent the entire trip in practical silence. Aemond stared out the window, feeling the tension in his body and the horror of what was happening. On the one hand he was relieved, on the other he was afraid that Aegon would blurt everything out and everyone would talk about them.

He hated drawing so much attention to himself, it made him extremely uncomfortable. He felt Solren look at him once in a while, but he didn't dare look at her.

As they arrived in the evening to their destination and were heading for the carriages that would take them to Hogwarts he saw that Solren was talking to Aegon about something in the rear. He felt uncomfortable at the thought, but decided not to say anything. Stark and a few others called her to come with them, and she waved to them, saying that she'd be right over.

Aemond saw, surprised, how she rushed over to him. Before he could say anything, she started talking.

“I asked Aegon to keep what he heard to himself. Helaena won't tell anyone either. So please, don't worry." She said, pressing her lips together, looking at him as if she was worried by his condition.

His heart clenched at the thought that she thought of his feelings more than her own. She was the one who was terrified, she was the one who lost her first time with him, she was put in a situation where she didn't know what would happen next.

He thought that he was cruelly selfish, as usual.

"I want to kiss you." He spoke softly and matter-of-factly, almost indifferently, though his heart was pounding like crazy. Solren blinked, blushing, looking at him uncertainly.

"Here?" She asked, surpised.

He didn't anserw her, but just grabbed her by the nape and bited into her lips hungrily, placing a long, wet, lingering kiss on her lips. He pulled away from her with a sticky click and pressed his forehead against her temple, his nose pressed against his cheek.

"Do you want to be mine?" He asked in a whisper, still holding her tightly by the nape, all around them were the surprised, quick conversations of people who had just seen what he did.

He heard her shudder at his words, dropping her eyelids modestly, smiling sweetly. She nodded, and he grunted contentedly, as kissed her cheek, pulling away from her. He looked at her, for some reason more content and calm than ever.

"See you later."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses

Others: @fangirlninja67 @helaenaluvr @queenofshinigamis @scmdsblog @talesofoldandnew @godrakin @nina2697 @saminalloxo

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stagefoureddiediaz · 1 month

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ugh this is horrible news tommy is still around, hope to god he's gone in the finale. v

Maybe in your world Nonnie, but not in mine and I'm not entirely sure why you felt the need to come and complain about it on my blog, but here we are!

It makes perfect Narrative sense for Tommy to still be around in the back end of the season, and even possibly into the start of season 8. The show is telling a story of Bucks bisexuality, so why woould they get rid of Tommy so quickly? To do so would do a disservice to that story - a massive disservice. I'm guessing you're hating on this relationship becasue you see it getting in the way of Buddie, rather than viewing it as a vital step on the route to Buddie.

Lets put it into simple terms - Buck figures out he's bi and then begins to explore that newly discovered aspect of himself. The show has also taken the time to move Buck from someone who didn't really do relationships (of the long term variety), into someone who is looking for love and looking for forever. But in amongst all of that, he hasn't really had a healthy long term relationship, the closest he had to that was with Ali and that one didn't last especially long and she wasn't around for most of it

Buck isn't ready for an endgame queer relationship right now - he is still to immature from a relationship perspective - especially a queer relationship perspective. If Eddie was available and he and Buck got together - as they are as characters right now, they wouldn't last - they're not in a position to do so successfully. And this isn't me suggesting that they need to have figured everything out before they get together - to have fully healed etc, because thats neither realistic or something I would want to see - what it means is that they both need to get to a point where they are in a healthy enough place to put in the work together, understand each others flaws, and their own flaws and proactively work towards overcoming those things together and as of right now, neither of them are - they are getting their and moving rapidly in the right direction, but Buck needs to learn a bit more, and in many ways learn how to be with a man, before he will be ready to start anything with Eddie.

The growth we're getting to watch Buck go through right now - in the aftermath of the lightening strike, his reckoning with his mortality etc and the fact he's now off the hamster wheel and moving forward - in a healthy and faster way than we've ever seen from him, speaks volumes.

Tommy is also a far better developed love interest than any other love interest we've seen Buck (or indeed Eddie) with (Abby excepted but she was a main, so had her own purpose on the show)- I'm sure I'm not alone in feeling like I know Tommy more after 3 episodes plus what we got from the begins episodes he was in, than I managed to ascertain about Taylor or Ana or Nataila etc!

Not to mention, him figuring out he's in Love with Eddie as part of this process is going to be fun to watch. The show has made no bones about re-enforcing at every. Single. Opportunity how close, how entwined and how important Buck and Eddie are to one another - the show has quite literally been prioritising that over anything else Buck and Eddie related - Buck was there front and centre - placed very much on an equal footing with Shannon and even Eddie himself in 7x01, and then Eddie was the centre of Bucks bi arc in 7x04 and in his coming out in 7x05. They are literally moving chess pieces into place to tell an amazing story of queer love in later life and creating an epic slow burn for the ages.

And finally, Eddie is, as far as we know at this point in time, still in a relationship with Marisol - why shouldn't Buck get to explore who he is and what he want's within a relationship rather than sitting pining on the sidelines - that isn't healthy in any way shape or form. Eddie still has stuff to figure out about himself.

Even Tim and Oliver have stated in interviews that this is about a happy and joyful queer experience of figuring out bisexuality and therefore within that is giving the narrative a romcom vibe. But they have also stated that Tommy isn't going to be around for that long - that he is very much a narrative device.

It is worth pointing out that timelines on various aspects of the narrative may have been shifted because of the season 8 renewal - but that is only going to help tell the story because now it doesn't have to be rushed. I'm still fully expecting some form of feeling realisation from one of them by the end of the season (my money is on Buck), setting up for season 8 and Buddie going canon either 8a finale or early into 8b.

You have every right to dislike Tommy if thats you jam - have at it, but don't come to my blog and expect me to agree with you. I'm not a multi shipper by any means - I'm a one ship kind of gal and I will be a Buddie shipper until the end of time, but within that, I am here for amazing storytelling and amazing queer storytelling - the like of which I've not had the privilege to watch on my screen before - especially one that hits so close to home. Its a really important story to tell and I'd rather it not be rushed.

And if you had to pick - I'm pretty sure you'd rather have Tommy around for a bit longer that Marisol!!!!

#kym answers things #nonnie asks #We love Tommy on this blog so don't come to my inbox trying to spread hate!#I get not wanting to see half of your ship with anyone other than the other half of it I really do but to deny the narrative thats going to #get you to canon is just a fools errand - its precisely because of that narrative that will make the ship going canon all the more rewardin #911 spoilers #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #bucktommy #kinley #tevan #911 abc #911 discourse

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fangsandfracturedhearts · 2 months

Text

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 14: Devil's Ploy

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 6k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events. Mentions of Astarion's Trauma.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

You snort and blink rapidly to clear your nose of the fetid sulphuric odour burning the membranes of your nostrils, throat and eyes. In the cramped, dimly lit sewers, where the air doesn’t stir, the stench of it lingers and never seems to dissipate.

When your vision finally becomes unimpaired by burning tears, the cambion and her fire-red hair, horns bedazzled with chains of gold, is leering at you with a conniving expression that makes your stomach sink. You’ve seen this expression on her plenty of times when she was scheming and plotting.

“Gods above,” you hiss with a rasp to your voice. “What do you want, Mizora? I thought I was good and done with your kind.”

“And here I thought we had all become such good friends,” she titters, feigning cordiality terribly. “You always did have so much… spunk. I’m happy death still hasn’t taken your lovely little spark.”

“You can ask Raphael all about my spark,” you smirk. Vivid blue lightning crackles and buzzes over your fingertips. “Oh, wait. You can’t because I killed him for seeing me as no more than a little mouse, a pawn, and I will do the same with you if you think you can play games with me.”

“Oh-yes,” Mizora giggles, not one iota ruffled by your threats. “All nine Hells were positively astir with the news of his demise. He always was such a pompous and over-confident twat, not unlike your master, I suppose."

Master. Ugh.

“I would be lying if I said it was nice to see you again, Mizora. If you will excuse me, I have my prey to hunt, and you’ve made me lose its trail.”

You can’t hear or smell Elowyn anymore. She will be deep into the ruin by now, or worse yet, in the Crimson Palace itself, but you still don’t understand what use she would have of that place. There is nothing left there but closed cells full of rotting gore that can never be opened again since you made Astarion break Cazador’s quarterstaff - Woe. Insofar as you’re aware, that was the only key to controlling everything.

“A great pity you’re in such a rush, pet,” Mizora snickers. Gods, you hate being called “pet.” You almost growl, but you’re too preoccupied with the rising feeling of foreboding swishing around in your stomach. You know that laugh and dread what’s about to come out of her mouth next. “I was going to offer to assist your Vampire Ascendant with his little… problem, but I suppose if you don’t want help… well, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink. Ta-ta!”

“Wait!” You snap, whirling around. You’re going to regret this. “Wait… What do you know of Astarion’s ailment?”

“I thought that might get your attention,” she smirks smugly. “Let’s make ourselves more comfortable, shall we? You may be accustomed to living in such filth, but I am decidedly not.”

Mizora snaps her fingers, fire bursts to life all around you, and then you’re in a grand sitting room with glitzy settees, lounges and chairs. Rugs made of creatures you’ve never seen before litter the floor. Some appear reptile-like with scaly hides, others plush furs, others with feathers and more with something you can only begin to describe as some form of cartilaginous exoskeleton. They look at you with glassy, dead eyes ashine in their long-dead sockets.

It’s stiflingly hot, and you peer out of double doors leading to the terrace and take in the landscape. In the distance, black, jagged mountains pierce the horizon with peaks wreathed in an eerie crimson mist. Brimstone and fire dance in a perpetual inferno bordering a river made entirely of lava or possibly blood. It’s hard to tell from this height. The air is acrid and clouded with volcanic ash, and the sky flickers reds and oranges as fireballs race through clouds of darkest black.

“Avernus,” Mizora gushes. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“I think I preferred the sewers,” you croak, wiping the sweat from your brow and going back inside. It does little to provide any comfort or liberation from the sweltering climate.

“Of course, sewer spawn,” she scoffs indignantly and drops unceremoniously onto a lounge. “It was your home for a little while. Wasn’t it? Until the Cleric and Wizard found you down there.”

“Have you been watching me this entire time?” You cross your arms and quirk a brow at her. “Do you have nothing better to do than derive pleasure from pain and suffering?”

“Oh, darling.” Her head falls back, and she laughs, “Of course! Who wouldn’t want to watch this little tragedy play out? It has been quite amusing thus far.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the show,” you bow sarcastically with a frown. “If you’re getting such a kick out of it, why are you meddling in my nightmare?”

“Sit. Won’t you?” She gestures toward the chaise. Mizora won’t tell you anything until you do as she asks. This is all part of her little game, after all. So, you sit with a roll of your eyes. “I would have been happy to watch until the vampire killed you, but alas, all good things must come to an end. Zariel and the other archdevils have other plans.”

Fuck. If another archdevil, or several, from the sounds of it, are getting involved, this is unlikely to be good. What got you here was another deal with an archdevil, but if there’s even a chance that something Mizora might tell you can give you somewhere to start, well, you can humour her.

“Which are?”

“Oh,” Mizora shrugs. “I don’t know, little lamb. I am merely a messenger.”

“Okay,” you comb your fingers through your sweat-dampened hair. She’s lying. You can see the hinting glint in her eyes. She knows more than she’s letting on. “Well, what is it you can tell me?”

The toothy, menacing smile that sidles across Mizora’s face should send you running. She sneers, “Tell me. What do you know of Mephistopheles?”

You shrug, “I know he is an archdevil, a rather powerful one. His domain is Cania. The Rite of Profane Ascension was a contract with him. Beyond that, I do not spend much time researching devils.”

“So, nothing then,” she pouts. “Well, allow me to enlighten you.”

Fire leaps to life in a circle, and Mizora’s eyes gleam with the keenness of a wild cat as you jump and get ready to defend yourself. Everything goes black except for the inferno burning around you.

As you watch the writhing blaze, depictions form in the leaping flames, moving against them. A towering devil with bright red skin, curling ram horns and massive bat-like wings jutting out from his back. He has an unnervingly charming smile, but it’s offset by cold, milk-white eyes that stare through you, making you shudder.

The figure paces around, muttering to himself and the empty grand halls around him. His eyes bounce around with feral neuroticism. He twitches, growls, hisses and waves his hand as if shooing away an annoying insect while snarling.

Abruptly, the fiery figure lets out a blood-curdling shriek and starts clawing at his skin, tearing gashes into himself until his skin is hanging in gruesome, dripping flaps from his arms and chest. Fire explodes in his palms, and he flings around bolts of Hellfire, instantly turning everything around him to ash. He pivots quickly and appears to be looking straight at you. He roars so loud you’re sure your eardrums have burst. He charges toward you with the ferocity of a rabid animal and a fireball barrels toward you.

Everything goes black, and you fall onto the floor by Mizora, who is snickering.

“What in the Hells was that?” You snap, getting up and getting in her face. You grab that fur collar in your hands and shake her, “What the fuck did I just witness?”

“Mephistopheles, for all his cunning and brilliance, is a deeply troubled individual. As you saw, he is neurotic and suspicious and often flies into fits of explosive and violent rage. Does that remind you of anyone?”

“… Astarion,” you breathe and stumble back. “Oh Gods…”

“Yes, pet.” Mizora nods with a fiendish cackle. “I can see you putting it all together. The Vampire Ascendant was an experiment of sorts. As you can imagine, these tendencies are not becoming of an archdevil. In an effort to rid himself of his neurotic temper, he needed a willing vessel to imbue with a portion of his nature. What better way to lure a willing participant than to offer unfathomable power?”

You collapse onto the chaise, wracking your fingers through your hair, “The Vampire Ascendant was nothing more than a way for Mephistopheles to offload his psychosis?”

Gods above. It makes so much sense. Astarion’s blind fits of rage. The voices in his head. The alternate version of him that sometimes takes control. You never got to see the whole contract. Did Raphael know about this and neglect to say it?

“But.” You add, looking at Mizora, “Astarion is himself some of the time.”

“Ah-yes,” Mizora snickers, glancing at her nails. “The vessel was never supposed to have an intact soul. It’s much easier to work with an empty cask than one that is already full, so to speak. A spawn was never supposed to usurp the ritual. I would say an oversight on Mephistopheles’ part, but truly, who could have imagined a spawn would get infected with a mind flayer tadpole that broke his master’s chains? Then, he just so happened to come upon a fine hero to help him. It’s all rather ludicrous sounding. Astarion’s soul is fractured but not completely eradicated. Well, not yet at least.”

“What do you mean not yet?”

“Think of it like this,” Mizora speaks to you slowly, as if you might not be smart enough to understand the metaphor slipping past her lips. “The entity is like an infection. It contaminates him, tainting everything from his thoughts, the platelets in his blood, to the marrow in his very bones, faster than his body can heal itself.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” You’re starting to get suspicious. Where is the catch? The line she will hook you with?

“Can’t I just want to help out an old friend?” She pouts.

You glower at her and cross your arms, “No.”

“You were always so clever.” Mizora suddenly becomes serious, “Mephistopheles is a threat. Now that he is no longer burdened by his demons, he’s set his aspirations quite high. Too high for the liking of many of the archdevils. We would like to see him reunited with himself. It’s a very fine little deal. You get what you want to rid Astarion of the entity that’s eating him from the inside out, and we get to cage Mephistopheles back in the prison of his mind. A warning, pet. It will not be an easy road.”

“My life has never been easy. Why would it start now?” You sigh, “Tell me what needs to be done, and I will do it.”

“Such a good little spawn. Aren’t you? He’s killed you, tortured you, starved you, beat you, emotionally ruined you, and stolen your name, and you’re still willing to risk yourself to save him?” Mizora giggles, “I would say it was a true love story in the making were it not so fucking tragic.”

“What do you mean stolen my name?” You growl, cocking your head at her, “I have a name!”

“Oh,” she snickers, “Then tell me, pet. What’s your name?”

“My name…” You trail off, wracking your brain for the word. It’s right there, sitting precariously on the tip of your tongue. “My name… It’s… It’s…”

Mizora’s laughter is a haunting melody, a sinister cackle in a chilling symphony. That sound could freeze the blood of the bravest soul and make the earth tremble, “You can’t remember it. Can you?”

You replay old conversations in your head. You can see Shadowheart’s lips moving, but then there’s a sudden silence where all you hear is white noise even though she’s still talking. It’s the same with conversations with Gale, just white noise in the place where your name should have been.

Astarion stole your name from you… When did that happen, and why can’t you remember? What else has he stolen from you?

“What’s my name,” you swallow the thick odium that’s erected itself into your throat. You shriek, rage sweeping through you in a gust of hatred, “What my name, Mizora! Say it!”

Mizora smiles haughtily and speaks. You focus with every iota of your capacity, watching her lips move, but it is as you feared. Your ears hear nothing but the breathy whisper of silence, and your eyes seem unable to read the phonetics on her lips.

You’re his darling. His sweet girl. His precious treasure. His consort. His nameless spawn.

And yet, you’re still prepared to sacrifice your life.

Yes, a very good little spawn, indeed.

“It doesn’t matter,” you mutter, clenching your chest as a tendril of sadness wraps around your heart and chokes it. “What do I have to do?”

“Before we can do anything about Astarion. We must first unbind him from his contract.” Mizora says, eyes narrowing, fixed on you. “I don’t care how you do it, but you must get Astarion’s contract from Mephistopheles. Steal it. Bargain for it. The choice is yours, but you must do it fast. There’s no way to know how much time before Astarion is lost forever.”

Mizora deposits you back into the sewers, and her voice bounces off the stony passageways, “Tick-tock, tick-tock, pet.”

You consider continuing to try to track Elowyn, but you’re reeling with information and cannot fathom how you would even begin to concentrate on her. She must be dealt with. That is certain, but it must wait until your mind isn’t fraught and unsettled.

How are you supposed to get Astarion’s contract from Mephistopheles? Bargaining for it should be your last resort, but how do you get to Cania, the eighth layer of the Nine Hells, survive it long enough to sneak into Mephistar and somehow sneak through an archdevil citadel? It seems like an impossible task.

Should you tell Astarion? He would usually be the first person you ran to for help with a heist, but he’s unlikely to let you go, even if it is the only means to save him from inevitably losing himself entirely. You can’t risk Astarion forcing you to stay, but you might not be able to risk going to the Hells without him. The Vampire Ascendant will likely be an invaluable asset if you meet resistance. But if he loses himself, you might not survive Astarion’s wrath long enough to get where you’re going. Whether that thing inside him is a separate entity or a version of himself that’s been infected and corrupted, you doubt it will take kindly to you trying to remove it.

Do you approach Shadowheart? You would be putting her in great peril, but she might be able to help with research. This is your mistake to fix, and you don’t relish putting your friend’s lives on the line. Karlach and Wyll are in the Hells. They may be able to help ascertain a way to get to Cania, but you’ll need to figure out how to contact them.

And Good Gods, your name…

The silent corridors echo with the foreboding sound of your heavy footsteps like the ominous rumble of an approaching storm as you work through the maze of gangways and channels. Tears stroll in rivulets down your snowy cheeks, liquid poetry to express all the emotions you can’t.

Dejection. Grief. Fear. Defeat. Loss.

Lost in the spiralling thoughts, you forget to look to the sky as you drag your weary body home. The only thing you want right now is to curl up in the strong arms of Astarion and let him hold your broken pieces and fears together because you’re not sure if you can do it by yourself.

The sun cracks the skyline, the first rays of the soft light of an autumn day embracing the streets, but the sun no longer embraces you. It blinds and broils you. Your skin glows, flakes, and melts. Deep, molten silver-blue channels crack in your arms, legs and face. The pain is so intense you can’t even remember to scream as you stand, waiting for your skin to slough off your bones and cover the street with ash.

You don’t remember reaching out to the bond with Astarion, but his voice fills your head, “Gods above. What in the nine Hells are you doing!? ” Astarion bellows. Panic infects his usual halcyon timbre, “Find shelter! I’m coming!”

The pain is all-consuming. You can’t move, can’t think, can’t speak as your nerves are melted away. Your skin dissolves like water evaporating under the sun’s heat. Every inch of your skin is being flayed in a single moment that lasts forever.

You will die nameless and alone.

“Fuck! Find shelter. Now!”

Astarion’s compulsion overrides everything else, and your body moves stiffly to obey the command even as it smokes and your skin is loosened from your frame, liquifying and dripping off your arms and legs, turning to ash in midair and being carried away by the morning breeze.

Find shelter. Find shelter. Find shelter.

Your instructions resound in your head even louder than the pain that falls to a buzz in the background. You can’t even blink as your fingers curl around the boards of a long-abandoned shack. Gods. Are those your fingers? Is that bone you see? You wrench the board off the window. The pads of your fingers squelch and ooze. When you throw the boards down, your skin sticks to them, peeling away in rangy, fibril bands like gum. Thank the Gods, you lack the capacity to mull it over much as your body throws itself inside without your consent.

With the order completed, there is a brief moment of pure, blissful euphoria - a reward for being so very obedient. The compulsion pales, the vines recede, and you’re pitched back into the residual agony that has yet to abate.

Now that the sun is no longer skinning you alive, the pain has lessened, and you remember how to scream. An inhumane noise rends your throat somewhere between a shriek and a wail. Your head lolls to the side, and your eyes fall to your arms.

You immediately wish they hadn’t.

Your skin is not the smooth pearlescent you’re used to seeing now that the colour it once held has faded to death’s grip. It’s powdery and matte. You’re sure you’re looking at the bones of your forearms in the chasmal rifts.

You hear white noise in your head, murmuring over the bond. It feels like Astarion is trying to contact you, but you hear no words. To get your thoughts off the pain still being recited by your nerves, you shift your focus to the emotions in your head, trying to sift through them. Astarion’s heartbeat in your chest is excruciating. It hammers with the intensity of a blacksmith striking an anvil. He’s petrified, bordering on hysterical.

You reach out in your head, “Astarion?”

“Little love!” He howls. You must remember to request he not attempt to dissolve your brain matter. “Why haven’t you been answering me?”

“Where are you?”

“Close, my treasure.”

You don’t know how much time elapses as you bounce between consciousness and dissociation while focusing on not moving. The less you move, the better for you, but your limbs and muscles seem to jerk and twitch without your consent, and every time, it sends another agonizing swell of suffering to break over you. Teardrops flutter on your lashes, but you can’t move to wipe them away.

Your ears pick up the thudding tempo of Astarion’s beating heart before he bursts through the door, scattering the planks and showering splinters in his haste. Astarion drops to his knees beside you. He visibly shudders as his eyes land on you, slumped against a wall.

“Hells,” he breathes, chest heaving from exertion. You can feel his horror in your head, but you need not. It’s evident in his shaky and rapid speech, “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here. You’re safe. Look at me, darling.”

Why, after everything he has done to you, is his proximity so remarkably comforting? You let your eyes roam over him and truly appreciate the beauty before you. His scarlet eyes, dazzling like vivid, perfectly polished jewels ashine behind… tears? No. That doesn’t seem right. Your vision is blurred from your eyes being boiled in their sockets. You must be imagining the tears, but his eyes are beautiful nonetheless. His sculpted, full lips, which once held the promise of an eternity of silk kisses, are downturned at the corners. You would give anything to run your fingers along them right now, feel them on your skin, taste them on your tongue. He is breathtaking, quite literally.

“Sweetheart.” Astarion reaches to you. His fingers tremble as they hover below your jaw. He knows it will hurt if he touches you, “Can you hear me?”

You answer in his head because moving the muscles in your face to make you capable of speech will hurt, “Yes. I hear you.”

“I can compel you to not feel the pain, to sleep, but I need your permission.” His eyes bore into you. His voice is a favourite dream you long to slip into, “Please.”

It’s dangerous permission to give. You’ve told him you will leave if he compels you again, but he just did, didn’t he? He compelled you to find shelter when you could not do it yourself. He compelled you from afar. He does not need to be near you to force commands upon you. He can wrap your brain and body around his finger like twine from anywhere, anytime, on a whim. But Gods, you will do anything to make this pain end, to drift away from this fucking nightmare.

“Do it.”

Immediately, you feel your control funnelling away, like sand through an hourglass.

“You feel no pain,” he purrs, and the pain vanishes as your nerve endings deactivate. It’s a blissful respite, and you sigh. “Thank you for trusting me. Sleep now.”

Your brain shuts off. Darkness claims you, and Hells below, you welcome it.

“Wake.”

The directive floats through your comatose mind like a beam of light cuts through the pitch-blackness of nullity. Your faculties burst to life, waking one by one, unfurling like a blooming flower. The first thing you feel is hunger so painful that your body jerks to collapse in on itself as your limbs jolt and tremor insuppressibly. Excruciating cramps make your toes curl and your hands ball into fists. Your mind is raving, mad with hunger. You consider biting your tongue if only for the sweet succour of that crimson elixir.

You cannot think of anything other than the sensation of your insides gnawing on themselves, the paralyzing contracting of every ligament and tendon in your body, the desiccation that’s withered your tongue, and the grave need to feed - on anything and anyone.

Another spasm causes you to lurch and claw at your skin like you could dig yourself out of this ailing body. Warm hands clasp your wrists, and all your mind can think is warm means alive, and alive means blood. Your eyes snap open, but your addled brain simply cannot process the visual input, and you don’t think twice before fire erupts from your palms.

“Shit!”

You hear it, but you do not process it. As soon as the grip on you rescinds, you lunge at this figure before you whose beating heart is thrumming the provocative siren song of life and food. Colliding with it is like being throttled into a brick wall, but you waste no time fumbling and climbing with bared fangs. You’re so close to that beautifully pulsing vein, and it’s the only thing your eyes can focus on.

Stomach bubbling with hunger, you go to bite, jaws snapping and slobbering like a feral beast. As soon as your fangs hover within striking distance, your body arrests, and you’re instantaneously immobilized.

Strong arms wrap around you, lift, and sink you to the floor. A hand cradles your cheek, and the branching blue-purple veins make you swoon. You think about biting them only to have your body freeze up on you further. It guides your eyes to vivid crimson irises that spark recognition and reason back into your dazed lucidity.

“Astarion…”

“Stop thinking about biting me,” he chuckles and shifts you to the side. “You’ll be able to move again.”

“What?” You would quirk a brow at him, but you’re too focused on trying to push your intentions of biting him away. They do not concede to your urges, and you find your eyes wander without your permission to any vein that might be in striking distance. Astarion always gently walks your errant gaze back to his. “You haven’t compelled me?”

“Ah. Apologies. I do forget how new you are to this.” Astarion reaches for something on the dresser to his right, “No. This is not a compulsion. As my…” he trails off.

“Spawn.” You state with a palpable despondency threaded between the fog of hunger that looms over you.

“I do hate that word,” he shakes his head with discontentment as if he does not want to face the reality of what he has turned you into. “You are physically unable to bite me without my permission. Your body simply will not allow you to do it. Which is why you currently cannot move.”

Astarion holds a goblet out to you, and your stomach is set on fire by the iron sharpness that wafts from the syrupy, bright red nectar. It breaks you away from your absorption of sinking your fangs into Astarion’s flesh, and you snatch it out of his hands and drink with mindless gluttony.

The blood is fresh, hot and rich as the liquid rushes into your mouth. It waterfalls through your body, unknotting the snarls in your muscles, dissolving away the relentless twist of your stomach, and replacing the bloodlust hysteria in your mind with a sultry buzzing.

Astarion’s already holding another goblet, and you throw the empty one to the side and close your eyes as you guzzle. The blood is buttery and decadent. It’s hundreds, nay, thousands of exquisite dishes in a single swallow. It’s like a summertime dawn on your tongue. The wet warmth of it sinks between your thighs, settling with a molten throbbing in your core, and you moan at the pure bliss.

Astarion slips the goblet from your fingers once you’ve finished, and you look at him with half-lidded eyes. You rack your brain for memories of the few times you’ve tasted the blood of thinking creatures. You bit a few in the battles between when he turned you and the Netherbrain, but you cannot remember any of them ever tasting that deliciously arousing.

“That wasn’t animal blood,” you state, almost slurring. You feel drunk, or maybe Astarion is just intoxicating to look at while he mesmerizes you with those red eyes and perfect lips that foretoken pleasure. “Who did you just feed me?”

“No, it was decidedly not animal blood,” he grins as you adjust on his lap and straddle him. You’re not entirely sure what you’re doing in your desirous daze, and you trace the perfect bow of his lips as he speaks. “It was my blood.”

“You are delectable,” you giggle as your fingers help themselves and start fiddling with the buttons on his chemise. As your muddled mind starts to make sense of what he just said, you’re tripped up. You stare at him with a slack jaw and round eyes.

“The look on your face is priceless, darling,” he giggles and glances down at your roving hands as they push open his shirt and trace the defined muscles. Astarion’s fingers trace down your neck, sending shivers down your spine and making you squirm on his lap in wanton desperation for even the most minuscule friction to sate the ache, “I told you that you would taste me, and I you. It will not make you a True Vampire, though, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Right now, you could not care less about being a True Vampire. There is very little on your mind except how his skin feels on your fingers and how extraordinary he would feel stretching you.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent deeply, placing slow kisses up the column. His fingers curl into the silk nightdress he must have changed you into at some point as he groans.

“Whatever are you doing?” He mutters near your ear, pressing his cheek to yours.

“I want you,” you sigh as you curl your fingers into his hair.

“You just attacked me,” he swallows.

“Then, let me apologize,” you grind against his hardening length in a way that makes you both gasp.

“You’ve been asleep for a week,” he mumbles, even as his arms wrap around you, tugging you close. “You have no idea how close you were to dying. Truly dying.”

You should probably be concerned with how long he kept you asleep since your time is limited, but you don’t care. You can’t care. You’ve never been quite so high on blood, on him. He is the light, darkness and blood that runs through your veins, and good Gods, you will give him everything.

“So, wake me up,” you purr as you push his shirt over his shoulders and run the flat of your tongue up his neck, relishing the salt of his skin. “Touch me like only you can. Love me like only you do. Help me feel alive, Astarion.”

Astarion pulls you back, cradling your face with this thumb pressed gently under your chin, drawing your eyes to his, and you stare at him through narrow, seductively hooded eyes like a love-sick pup. He traces your lips with his thumb, and you catch it in your mouth and suck.

“Hells,” he rasps darkly with a sharp inhalation.

You feel the offering call of the bond, and you don’t hesitate to throw it open. That beautifully overwhelming frisson shatters through you as Astarion’s lips catch yours in an eager, bordering on frantic kiss. He snakes his hand into your hair, holding you firmly against his vehement embrace. His tongue darts into your mouth, and a guttural groan thunders in his chest. His kiss is unusually clumsy, lacking the artistry and mastery he typically possesses, and your teeth click together with your greed for each other. You roll your hips, sinking your clit against his length, and your head falls back as white-hot sparks of want rupture behind your eyelids.

As far as you’re concerned, he is the definition of desire. His lips, his hands, and his taste are the only things that can bring you back to life from this deathless death, and you’re sure that you could never get close enough to him. Even with every curve of your body pressed into every contour of his, it still wouldn’t be enough. Nothing is sweeter than the serene sin of the kisses his lips press against your throat.

You peel off your nightdress, and your fingers tug at the opening of his breeches, graceless in your wild hunger to be filled, to be taken, to be his. Astarion quirks his hips up and pulls them down his hips, freeing his cock. The head glistens with evidence of his arousal. With no warning or hesitation, you sink his full length into you. The heavenly stretch makes you cry out and dig your fingers into his chest.

“Fuck,” he breathes, heavy, ragged and uneven. The pads of his fingers find your swollen flesh, sweeping and circling, and you get lost in the divine stimulation.

You set a slow, teasing pace, rising and sinking back down onto him as you delight in feeling the ridges of his head with every languid pump. Astarion pants as he lets out breathy moans. He brings a hand to your hip, trying to urge you to move quicker.

“Good Gods,” he whimpers, his gaze glossed with desire. “Have mercy.”

You are starving for pleasure, famished, and you will take it how you want it. With a warning growl, you grasp his wrist and pin it above his head to the wall. Astarion grins at your dominance and doesn’t fight it. He murmurs something unintelligible as you plunge onto his cock, and stares reverentially through thick lashes, drinking you in as you forfeit all rational thought.

Time runs away with you. You could have been riding him for hours or seconds, but eventually, your savouring pace turns reckless and erratic. Astarion bucks his hips in time to meet yours as the sound of smacking flesh, wanton cries and panting is all that fills your ears and head.

Astarion’s fingers tremble and quake against your sensitive bud, his skin sheens with sweat and his breath hitches. When you finally unpin his wrist, he clutches your hips and guides you to continue the tempo that is driving you perilously close to the edge.

His breath starts to come faster, panting hot and crude, fanning across your sweat-veiled skin. Scarlet eyes devour you as you chase your release in his lap. He penetrates you - Harder. Deeper. Animalistic.

“Oh shit—” His eyes snap open wide, almost in a look of blissful confusion. In your rapture, you barely notice the way his lips move, but you hear nothing but white noise. “I’m going to— Gods. I think I’m going to—“

A shuddering gasp escapes his lips, his body suddenly tensing beneath you. The look of ecstasy that washes over his face is enough to hurl you over the precipice, and you cry out with him. Between your walls clutching and spasming, you feel his cock twitching and pulsing, flooding you with his seed. His arms wrap around you, and you cling to him with a grip that would surely bruise. He crushes you against him as you’re both overwhelmed with pleasure so pure you think maybe it would have killed you were you not already dead.

As the intoxication of your climax fades, you sag into him, pressing your forehead against his neck. You close your eyes, breathing in the fragrance of his sweat, and focus on the rise and fall of his chest. It would be nice to stay in this darkness, snug and safe and home in his embrace, with the bond open so you can remain one pale star against the dusk of reality.

And then you remember the white noise from the moving lips of Shadowheart, Gale, Mizora, and him … You pull back abruptly, breaking out of Astarion’s arms and staring at him, tears teeming in your eyes. Astarion’s confusion is evident on his face and through the connection.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. You can feel him trying to figure it out in his head. It’s such an odd sensation, almost like your emotions are being poked and prodded. “What did I do?”

“Say my name,” you whimper, focusing on his lips.

“What?” His eyes bounce around as his brows pull down.

“My name,” you repeat with a quivering lip. “Say it.”

Astarion’s lips move, and… nothing. All you can hear is the buzzing, fizzing hiss of white noise coming from his mouth.

“Again.”

“I don’t understand —“ He yet again opens and closes his mouth with only a droning hum. Your fingers clamber against his lips, pushing his mouth open as if you might be able to grasp the word as it leaves his tongue. “Whatever is the matter?”

He doesn’t even know, you realize. He has no idea that he’s stolen your name just as he stole your life. You find some comfort in knowing that it wasn’t this version of him that did it, at least. You stare off dejected as everything rushes back to you like a slap across the cheek.

Mizora. The Hells. Mephistopheles. The Contract. The ticking clock. Your name.

“My love,” Astarion’s fingers curl into your hair, and he ushers your eyes to his. “Did I harm you? Please. Tell me what’s troubling you."

“I don’t remember my name,” the tears spill out of your eyes. “You stole it from me.”

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. As always, I hope you enjoy this, darlings!

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

So... does she tell him what Mizora revealed?

#ascended astarion #bg3 #astarion fanfic #astarion x you #astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion smut #fangs and fractured hearts

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vantedaes · 11 months

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Not shy! 1/5 (Leon x F!Reader)

Author: @vantedaes Editor: @141s-chewtoy Pairing: Leon S Kennedy x fem reader! Word count: 2.350k Tags/Warnings: MDNI (+18) age gap, Banter, pining, romance, flirting, shy (introverted :p) reader, fluff, miscommunication, eventual smut, maybe slow burn? we'll see.

Summary: 1/5 When senior agent Leon Kennedy joined your unit the last thing you were expecting is for him to pay any attention to you let alone make you his partner, you, the outcast, shy, and officer rookie from the whole unit.

And it wouldn't be a problem if he didn't find pleasure in driving you crazy.

A/N: So here we at with my first fanfic in a long ass time (Also my first one in English be nice it's not my first language!) So i just wanted to make a wholesome banter with Death island Leon in mind! there will be eventual smut but later so buckle up to some old slow burn.

Thanks to my girl, the one, the only, the QUEEN: @141s-chewtoy for editing this nonsense and making it better and greater, ilysm bestie.

✩｡:•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•:｡✩✩｡:•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•:｡✩

When you first met Leon you thought he would never even grant a glance at you.

As an officer researcher rookie, you were usually picked on and the spot of jokes from your whole department, it didn’t help you were the first woman to achieve that high-ranking position. It should mean you receive respect from others, right? Well apparently not, and you knew that it was partly your fault, you’ve always been introverted and also maybe kind of a pushover.

So maybe being the target of jokes from the whole station and also having no other friends than the lunch lady —Sandy, god bless her heart, and her delicious croquettes—, was enough to make you invisible, and you were fine with that, mostly, it helped you not attract too much-unwanted attention which you hated but it also made you the odd one out that you also hated, but in the scale of things you’d rather be the quiet girl of the unit.

Therefore you didn’t even make an effort to leave your office when everyone was running laps because the great senior agent Leon Kennedy was coming down the department.

You figured that he was another know-it-all dickhead, that would only come to you to shove your face in his big achievements and how he single handedly saved the president’s daughter and some many other stuff, cause yes you did peek at his file —What? you have access to it, you were the intel and researcher of the unit, and you had to— Suuure, he was jaw-dropping gorgeous to say the very least but that was not the reason you sought shelter in your office, no, you just knew he had to be a fucking asshole like all the others you worked with.

Of course, you couldn't hide forever, as much as you wanted to. Eventually, you had to face the man of the hour and oh boy you were nervous… you were so nervous that Sandy had to give you a pep talk for you to just do your job

“Girl I know he’s hotter than the Sahara desert but you can’t just miss out on your job! the guy’s been asking for the researcher for days now he thinks you’re a slacker.”

“I’m not hiding because he’s hot! I’m just…scared he’s an egocentric idiot.”

Sandy gave you the most ‘you think I believe an ounce of that?’ look she had ever given to you.

“For sure honey and that’s why you have been eating in the kitchen and actively avoiding your work that you never do cause you practically breathe for this job.”

Ugh, you hated how right she was and how much she knows you.

“Whatever. It’s not because he’s hot, I’m just…busy with personal stuff.”

Oh, the way she scoffed was nothing amicable.

“Riiight, busy thirsting over the guy! I've seen the way you cling to his file, you ain’t fooling anybody and you’re sure as hell not fooling me so woman up and face him once and for all.”

You sucked in a breath and shook your head. You knew she was mostly right, you just couldn’t avoid your work so you had to face him sooner than later… but it wasn’t because you were attracted, no, you just didn’t want to lose your time with the insufferable prick he surely was.

It was an especially bad Friday morning when you sensed something off, could it be the fact that your coffee wasn't as warm as you usually prefer it? Or the way everyone was staring at you as you made your way to your office? Sure, you’d been coexisting with these idiots long enough to just ignore their shit but this morning they were drilling your head in with the intensity of their staring and whispering.

You couldn't bring yourself to ask what the fuck the problem was but you soon regretted not doing so.

Because at the other side of your private office was no other than agent Leon S. Kennedy sitting on your desk and examining your files in excruciating detail —making a total mess. You were frozen at your own door, your hand still on the handle and a part of you wanted to close the door and run away but, that wouldn't be so professional on your part and also he already had his cold blue eyes on you and, oh fuck you felt yourself trembling and clinging to your almond latte cause the pictures and the videos didn't do the man justice… He was even hotter —and wider— in person.

Regardless, you tried to maintain your calm and remain professional. This was your space of work and how dare he just intrude in your office! Sure you were avoiding convening with him and that was part of your job, but still! Wasn’t this a bit too much? And how did he even get into your office? You always closed it with a key, a key you and only you—oh, fucking Sandy!

You could only snap out of your internal conflict when he called your name with that smokey-ass voice that made you weak on the knees.

“I hope you don’t mind me barging in like this,”

Was he for real? Of fucking course you fucking minded but of course you couldn’t gather yourself to say or do anything but just look blankly at him.

“It was the only way I could find time for us to meet since you kept avoiding me.”

Fuck. How did he realize that? And why did he look so amused by it? God, you knew he had to be a prick, and worst of all, and breathtaking prick.

Well, you ought to speak up for yourself because the silence was flooding the room and it wouldn’t help your case just to stay quiet and wait for him to leave.

“Agent Kennedy, what a pleasant surprise,” You uttered in a breathy tone, still without the strength to actually step inside. Leon raised an eyebrow and cocked a smile that just made you even more annoyed.

Before he could even speak, you continued: “Sorry for the delay in our meeting, I’ve been busy with personal errands.”

Ugh, at least you were good at being professional-ish.

Leon's eyes were full of something between total disbelief and something else you couldn’t really place.

Your heart almost crawled out of your chest when he approached you, so incredibly close to where you were standing as still as a damn statue. You could do nothing whatsoever as his huge physique came so fucking close to you and you almost felt like fainting when his arm reached behind you to just close the damn door. However, judging by the smug grin he had on his lips, he knew exactly what he was doing.

Your eyes were fixated on his huge chest and the veins on his neck, your nostrils absorbing the delicious scent of cologne and something citric… Dear god, this man was a danger walking.

You could only breathe again when he finally gave you personal space.

“Sorry, don’t like the ogling eyes.”

He said smoothly, returning to your messed-up desk. You were at a loss for words as you tried to regain some confidence to answer him. He had some nerve to keep meddling in your stuff and— wait, was he holding the file you had on him?

“Hey! Keep your nose out of my stuff!”

Well, that was out of character for you, the way you snatched the folder out of his pretty hands like a toddler wanting their toy back. The coffee —that by this point was cold —in your other hand almost spilled on your carpeted floor.

You just tugged the file with your hand while he looked at you in surprise, clearing your throat and taking a step back. Now you probably needed to explain why you had a really specific file of him on your desk in the first place…

One that looked like it was thoroughly reviewed over and over again, and also had many pictures of him…

At least the look in his eyes —which were still full of amusement — prompted some explanation.

“What? I’m the researcher, I needed to know who you were before the meeting,”

As if anyone could believe that, he certainly didn’t, but god knows you were going to cling to your lie like it was the truest truth ever.

“When they told me you were shy I wasn’t expecting this.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, trying to move freely in your space around him. You carefully saved his file on your cabinet and just threw the fucking cold coffee in the trash, it was ruined anyway.

“Not shy, introverted.” You corrected, trying to get behind your desk. He looked at you still with a smug grin on his lips, he was enjoying making you nervous and annoyed.

Before he could make another clever remark, you stopped him.

“Listen Agent Kennedy, I would appreciate it if in the future —”

“Call me Leon.”

What?

“I’m sorry?”

“You have nothing to apologize for, please call me Leon.”

Oh but wasn’t he just a fucking smooth operator.

“Listen, Leon,” Oh your patience was running thin, and it wasn’t helping that he kept looking at you with that smug grin and those huge arms —like seriously, huge — crossed, just owning your personal space like it was nothing.

“Right now I don’t have any time for you, so I would appreciate it if in the future you don’t just break into my office.”

Firm, professional, you felt proud of how you handled it. Cause right now you just really wanted to erase that smug expression from his face with a slap. Of course, he could be a real smoke show but he was just getting on your nerves with all his…all of him, really.

Nevertheless, he continued to just sit on your desk giving zero fucks about how much you wanted him gone. Clearly he was having a great time making you uncomfortable and maybe a little flustered. It wasn't like you to yell or have a bad attitude towards anyone really, but you were having a hard time remaining cool in front of this smug man who kept meddling in your papers!

"Do you mind?!"

You said almost in a yell. Leon giggled, looking at you innocently.

"I don't mind at all."

You opened your mouth in disbelief, he was just toying with you now.

"Listen kitten— Can I call you kitten?"

"No, you may not!"

Now you were sure you were red as a tomato.

"So, kitten, I understand your annoyance but I think we’re even, given your very specific investigation about me I could say that we both broke personal boundaries.”

You were speechless, he was somehow right but clearly, you were not going to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him. He was the one who broke into your office and he was the one who’s all in your personal space. How dare he compare your innocent file of everything you could find of him with this? Pfft, you did nothing wrong.

“Now that we are somewhat acquainted, there should not be any problem with us working together.” He leaned in and you felt your breath catch in your throat, “Closely, together.”

What now?

Leon kept staring at you, scanning your every reaction, almost savoring your internal struggles like he could read them completely.

“Wh—What do you mean?” You asked in a tremulous voice.

Something in Leon’s eyes flickered as he bit his lower lip and almost suppressed a chuckle.

“You know, because you’re the best researcher and the first line of intel it makes sense that we work alongside one another.”

Ok, you were having an actual breakdown and it showed. What did he mean about that? Well, you knew what he meant but like what did he really mean? That you were going to have to see him every day? You could barely bear this unexpected intrusion and now he's telling you that you're going to be working partners? You didn’t do partners, you worked alone, you researched and informed the headquarters and that was it.

Leon kept looking at you with his head slightly tilted to the side, clearly enjoying your reaction. You sucked in a breath, trying to collect yourself.

“Is it really necessary?”

And it was the only thing you thought to ask, you knew Leon was there to join your unit and it did make sense what he was saying but a part of you just wanted it to be a lie. You didn’t know how much you could bear having someone like him all over you at all times, the thought of it just made you…quiver.

And no, it wasn’t because he was incredibly hot and unbelievably gorgeous, no, it wasn’t because his mere presence made your heart race and your insides burn and of course, it wasn’t because the sound of his voice and that stupid grin and the way he just called you kitten made your panties soaked in a fucking second.

Fuck, you couldn’t be thinking of that when he was still right in front of you like a fucking predator smelling how aroused his little victim was…

Ok, you really needed to stop now.

Leon chuckled, “Don’t worry, I won’t bother you too much, kitten.”

That fucking nickname again, your panties were as soaked as they could get.

“Stop calling me that.”

You tried to sound more serious than strangled but failed completely, Leon cracked another one of his fucking smirks and you felt the heat in your body increase, god, you weren’t sure if he annoyed you as much as he turned you on.

God no, he just annoyed you, that’s all.

“Why? It fits you perfectly, a shy kitten.”

Oh god, you could kill him.

“I’m not shy. I’m introverted!” You exclaimed, feeling your face burning up, “And certainly not a kitten!”

Sandy better fucking get her hands ready making you all the croquettes you wanted, she owes you one after this.

#leon kennedy #infinite darkness leon #death island leon #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil fluff #resident evil fic #resident evil fandom #leon scott kennedy #resident evil leon #leon resident evil #re6 leon #vendetta leon #resident evil vendetta

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yanderesimp2000 · 3 months

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Yan Adam x Fem reader Chap 3/5 someone else DARES TO FLIRT ON YOU !MINORS STAY AWAY

CHAP 1 https://www.tumblr.com/yanderesimp2000/745338401920860160/extreme-yandere-adam-x-fem-reader-chap-15-start?source=share

CHAP 2 https://www.tumblr.com/yanderesimp2000/745426251094818816/extreme-yandere-adam-x-fem-listener-chap-25?source=share

Tags, Cuddles, kisses,protective, 9 feet size diff , wing snuggles, daiquiri?!, RIBS?!!,horny listener

TWS, Manipulation, Violence (not on you), someone trys to SA you (NOT ADAM), Alcohol, Yanderery, Adam being a incel and misogynist, blow job, and brainwashed reader

btw this takes place in a universe where Adam won the Battle of Hazbin hotel and killed all the main hazbin hotel cast also PLEASE GIVE ME REQUESTS

my english might be bad I'm from Armenia

BTW RUSSIAN AND ARMENIAN TRANSLATIONS COMING SOON

it been about 3 days since your little "illness" stopped affecting you Adams gonna back to work making your lonely he's only here at night so he cant give you the attention you desperately crave "like a little fly to soda" Adam described your attention craving

His mansion he keeps you locked up in is cool to live in it had 5 floors and everything you could want like,pools a huge kitchen and dinner room, multiple living rooms a indoor theater but it's never engough your just counting down the days Adam dosnet have to do first man stuff for 7 whole days strait and you will get all the attention and love you want

as you sat on your bed watching Tv some reality TV show you here someone unlock the front door "what upppp Baby" It was Adam you rushed over to the door and he gave you a hug "ughhhhhhh today was soooo boring sera was being a bitch again something about You cant banish random people to hell because you dislike them like bitch? im fucking Adam I can do whatever I want I'm god first creation and his favorite so you can go eat shit" the way Adam described sera just made you hate her all you could think was is "how could she disrespect him does she know who he is you should be lucky to be in his presence" but you just said "yeah I know seras a bitch I know I know" Adam was happy to hear that at said "well atleast someone understands even lute is on Sera side"

adam groaned before Slumping down and laying down on the couch before saying " hey babe do we still have so raw ribs in the fridge" he said You then said "I'll check" before opening the fridge to see the rack of ribs he brought home one day you then said "yeah do you want me to make them" you said in your soft caring voice adam LED mask lit up and he said " YES YES YES FUCKIN MAKE THEM" Like a ecstatic puppy when you bring out his food

you then start to cook them Adam always thought that It was your job as a women to do the house work and cook and clean for him and you agreed since for some strange reason you could not remember what you life was like before he Married you so you just blindly agreed to everything he said once you were done seasoning the ribs you put them on the slow cooker for 2 hours before laying down on the couch with him like you always do

he started to snuggle you before telling you the same story's he always tell you "did I tell you about that one time this bitch girl that was Lucifer daughter came over and took me to court over the extermination it was sooooooo annoying then we killed them all and it was fuckin great" he said proud of himself "yes babe youve told me" you said Slightly annoyed

Adam then said "ugh this couch is too small were gonna go to the bed" he then picked you up with one hand like he always does and just carried you over the the bed and placed you on it before also laying down on the bed " your my little teddy bear y'know that small helpless... weak you have to rely on me for shelter safety and protection and that's Just the way I like it" he softly and gently cooed "and the world is dangerous their would be sooo many creeps that would try to take advantage of you and take you away from me so you should never try to leave its too dangerous" he said gently but very firm and something about it your mind just agreed with him " he was right you should stay with him" was all your little brain could think as you nuzzled into him

when you nuzzled into him he was surprised but loved it "ohh someones a little love bug today" he teased before starting to kiss you on your forehead his wings starting to wrap around you two creating a soft little fort as you two were snuggling you noticed some knots and dirt on Adams wings which just bothered you so much you started to clean and prune them this surprised Adam but he just giggled a little "sorry my wings are a little dirty but its always nice to know someone can take care of them for me" you walked out of the bed and grabbed the brush to brush his wings like the good little wife you were he giggled and cooed over this you just dropped everything to clean his wings as you were doing that he felt your wings " if only I could take care of myself like you do I'm a fucking mess" a complained "your wings are so sleek and soft they always look like its your first day in heaven and mine are dirty and rugged" he groaned "but hey I have you and your such a good wife you just clean them for me" he laughed

when you were done cleaning his wings he praised you like you were a toddler "wow I look so pretty, what ever would I do without you, Their so sleek and shiny just like yours,how could you do all of this so quickly" this coddling was interrupted by the buzzing of the oven that had the ribs in them " fuck yeah' he yelled before jumping out of bed and running towards the kitchen as you followed behind him to take them out when you took them out Adam just grabbed one of the burning hot ribs and shoved them in his mouth you looked at him shocked but he said " fucking delicious thanks babe" you heard the ribs FUCKING SIZZLE WHEN HE PICKED THEM UP

Besides that concerning discovery the dinner was pretty good he talked to you and seemed to enjoy the ribs a lot making your heart happy he then groaned "welp that was nice time for bed" you weren't tired and said "w-wait" but I was to late he picked you up and walked to the bed and threw you guys down on it " I said it was time for bed" Adam growled ignoring your protests as he feels asleep you were forced to sit their smushed in-between his arm and his chest For another 3 hours before you finally fell asleep against him

3 days later

it was finally the day were Adam got 7 whole days off no doing angel stuff he promised you guys would go do something and now you were he was dressing you up looking thur dresses while he was in his classic robe attire you guys were going to his favorite club for a date and you were so excited 1 because it was your first time out of his mansion in 2 months and 2 he was actually taking you on a date

adam then showed you a nice baby blue dress that fir very tightly on you he then said "yes yes that's the one so everyone will know how fucking smoking hot you are and THEY CANT HAVE YOU because your alllllllllllllllllll mine" the dress was very tight but you said it was okay because he said it looked cute on you so it had to

He then said "okay were both ready so lets go" you two walked out the door and heaven was just a pretty as it always was the huge building all the gold and marble and just everything as you two walking you heard people mumbling "how did Adam pull that girl" "must of bribed her or something" "wow shes hot shit" but you didn't humor them ignoring them and just focusing on Adam as you two walked to the club which he always talked about so you knew it was gonna be a lovely experience

as you two rounded the corner he said "prepare to be blown out of your fucking mind" then you saw it big flashy signs and a bouncer that said "come in sir" when he saw you and adam" when you two walked in you were seated in one of the best seats in the club were he ordered himself a large daiquiri and you a small red wine you guys drank and talked and listened to music as he blabbered his head off about story's that he told you a billion times but you didn't mind at all and you were with him it was all fine

Adam started to get a little drunk and started to get even more touchy and affectionate then he already was "nice t-t-tits bitch" he said words slurred "T-thank you" you said felling flattered but a little insulted at being called a bitch " can I have my rib back" Adam said before erupting in laughter "its okay even though you came from my r-rib your m-much fuckin hotter then in" he teased again before saying "when we get home I'm gonna fuck ya hard yeahhh gonna knock ya up give ya babys make ya all round gonna baby trap ya then you could Neva leave me" he said words slurred you were slightly annoyed by this and said "Adam having babys would be wonderful but I would never leave you, you know that right?" you said trying to reassure him "yeah yeah I fucking know I was just fucking around bitch" Adam said laughing a little before saying " I gotta fuckin piss I'll be right back" before standing up and leaving

you sat their fiddling with you thumbs waiting for adam to return when an angel came up to you he was unattractive in your standards so you didn't bat an eye that was until he said "hey baby you could do sooooo much better then him you know that" you tried to ignore him but he persisted "he treats you like trash right yeahhh I bet he does I would treat you like the queen you are" you get angry and said "fuck off I'm not going out with you or leaving him" the angel looks offended but then says well then I'll just give it a little sample then before punching you to the ground holding you down before trying to touch you private area he didn't even seem to notice Adam walking over to the stall

2 seconds later he was ripped of you and adam had never looked so angry before "YOU DARE TOUCH MY WIFE IN MY CLUB EVEN AFTER SHE SAID NO" he said in-between punches "Scum like you have no place in heaven" he said before snapping his fingers opening a portal to hell "wait no no no no no no please I'm sorry please nooooooooooo" he said before being sucked in before the portal closed Adam was panting looking like a rapid animal everyone in the club was looking at him " lets go babe" he said before grabbing your hand and flying out of the club back home

When you got home Adam said "fucking scum trying to hit on you I'm sorry you had to see that but he deserved it" he said still fuming "it's okay Adam" you said gently trying to calm him down but God he was so hot when he was angry it just brought out his dominate side which you found so hot he then walked over to the couch and sat down to watch his favorite show

this was your chance you thought he always was the one to ask to fornicate so it was your turn but you were to nervous to directly ask him from Adams perspective he was just sitting on the couch watching his favorite TV show when all of a sudden he felt something you... you were sitting on the floor in-between his legs rubbing your face against his soft bulge looking up at his longingly he was surprised and that well you were asking to fuck he giggled and said "that's one way to ask if you can suck my dick" before taking his underwear revealing his 35 cm dick complete erect he then teased "hope ya don't choke" before grabbed you by the hair and putting your mouth against his dick you gladly opened it and started to suck on it purring and playing with the soft tip arousing Adam even more 'good good girl" he said "I hope ya dont chock on it although that would be cute" he said in a low purr you were to preoccupied to listen and you just kept sucking him off rubbing your tongue against the veins bulging through and the gentle tip tickling him he then said "going all the way in" then shoving his whole dick down your throat you were surprised you did not gag maybe heaven does not have a gag reflex you thought while sucking it "that's it baby this is your dessert after all those drinks" he said as the bead of precum went down your throat it was so nice to have all his love and affection and to pleasure him it was just an addicting feeling Adam then blurted out " are you ready for you dessert " before pulling his dick partially out before cumming all onto your tongue letting you taste it "don't you dare spit it out" Adam said firmly as more ropes of cum went into your mouth. by the end your mouth was filled with his sticky salty cum you started to gulp it down as he cleaned himself up he laughed and said "Ya like your dessert because your gonna eat that EVERY DAY" before saying "its getting late lets go to bed

BONUS BC I LOVE YOU

as he was sleeping your played with his bulge it was soft and warm kinda like a pillow he was enjoying it as he blurted out "ugh yess" once and awhile it was just the perfect pillow you finally rested on his bulge using it like a pillow and fell asleep

#hazbin hotel #yandere #yandere adam #hazbin adam x reader #adam x reader #adam x you #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel adam x reader #yandere adam x you #yandere boyfriend #male yandere #yandere male

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nectardaddy · 12 days

Text

Drama Fiend - Jean Kirstein

pairing: jean kirstein x reader, gender neutral, modern au, established relationship

synopsis: this man is messy and will do anything to stir the pot just for some tea, based on these headcanons I made a bit ago

notes: language, we don't hate Eren on this page but Jean is absolutely dogging him in this, silly fic I had in my mind for the longest time, kinda short

"Bruh- who are you even talking to right now?" He asked with a huff, brown eyes narrowing as he watched you type away on your phone.

"Glad to know I've devolved to bruh," you quipped without looking up. Your fingers quickly texting out a reply with a small scowl on your features. "And why do you care?" You asked with a small chuckle, watching as the man tried to sneak a peak at the phone in your hand. Clicking it off, you heard him groan loudly.

"Ugh- rude," he spoke with a moan and nudged your side with his elbow. "You never let me know anything!"

Letting a laugh escape your lips, you saw him roll his eyes once more and sink into the couch. "Because you'll start shit," you chuckled. "And you don't know how to keep your mouth shut."

"I don't know how to keep my mouth shut?" He asked exasperatedly, sitting up from his position on the couch - ready to prove his point. "What about the time you told Connie I pissed myself when I was drunk? You didn't keep your mouth shut then!"

A howl of a laugh escaped your lungs at his remark, knowing he genuinely was trying to prove his point even further, but making himself look more like a fool. "Because that was hilarious!" You choked out through laughter, "I still can't believe you did that!"

Through your laughter, that he wholeheartedly tried to ignore, biting the side of his cheek with a huff to not reply back, his eyes caught your phone screen once more. The black screen lighting up as another message came through piqued his interest a bit too much, and he lunged quickly to grab it.

"Jean!" You yelled, but you were far too slow to react, and you watched as the man grabbed the device from next to you. "Oh god, here we go-" you grumbled, rolling your eyes as he unlocked your phone with a grin.

There was a moment of pause as you watched his eyes read over the messages, his eyes flashing up to you once he finally finished reading. "That greasy little fuck," he remarked, your phone still in hand, "why didn't you tell me Yeager texted you?"

"I was going to tell you after I had thoroughly bruised his ego," you quipped. "But you're so nosy I didn't even get the chance." You truly did have all intention in letting the man know his "acquaintance," as he called him, had messaged you. Eren had simply asked if you would like to accompany him to dinner, a generic request at best but one that lie in murky waters. Murky waters that Eren knew would piss Jean off.

"I'm replying," he laughed out as he quickly rose from the couch, a grin that superseded him. "I'm telling him you changed your mind, and you're going."

You rolled your eyes at the man's statement, if you could roll them any harder they would simply go to the back of your head. "Why?" You asked, but you had already known the answer before asking. Jean Kirstein lived and breathed for moments such as this.

"Because this shit is gonna' be hilarious, babe."

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot #aot x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean x reader #snk x reader #god this man lives for drama

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otomefiend · 8 months

Text

Alfons Sylvatica

Story Event: I'm his cherished doll

Chapter 3 Premium

Prologue (@/archiveikemen ♡)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I legit can't wait when this weasel finally owns his vulnerability.

~~Part 1~~

When we left the castle... I began my shaky journey bouncing about in Alfons' pocket.

Wrapped in his sweet scent, I felt like I was being hugged, which made my heart flutter.

(What if Roger fails to make the medicine? What if it doesn't work even if it's made?)

(... what is Alfons planning to do with me when this plan fails?)

While I was busy worrying about the outcome, Alfons made it straight to the destination,

And easily obtained the drug.

As we reached an empty road, I cautiously peeked out of the pocket.

Kate: "...... thank you, Alfons."

Alfons: "Don't mention it."

Kate: "Um... why did you slow down...?"

Alfons: "I just felt like it."

Kate: "Can you hurry up a bit...!?"

(I need to take the medicine before he does something questionable again...)

Seeing my impatience, Alfons snickered and stopped walking.

Alfons: "Haa.... I'm tired after covering so much distance."

Alfons: "I can't move any further without my adorable toy cheering me on."

(So fickle...)

Alfons: "...heh."

Much to my frustration, my stern gaze was met with his amused one.

Kate: "Then what do you want me to do...?"

Alfons: "Hmm... Let me think."

Alfons: "Kiss me, right here."

~~Part 2~~

Alfons: "Kiss me, right here."

He tapped his cheek with his finger, then put me on his shoulder and leaned against the railing.

Clearly having no intention of moving on until I complied with his request.

Alfons: "I suggest you don't dilly-dally."

Alfons: "Though I don't mind it myself..."

Kate: "Seriously, stop messing with me..."

With a scowl on my face, I straightened up and leaned towards his cheek.

Alfons: "Even your angry face is cute."

Kate: "Ugh...."

(Argh, why am I feeling excited all of a sudden)

(He says that to everyone; same with his kisses)

(There's no point in feeling self-conscious about it...)

That's what I thought... yet the prospect of kissing this outrageous guy...

was strangely thrilling.

I gave him a peck on the cheek and quickly pulled back.

Alfons: "...you're so adorable when you kiss me with that troubled look on your face."

His lips lightly touched my forehead as if returning the favour.

This unexpectedly sweet kiss caught me off guard and left me confused.

It did not feel like I was being toyed with, but rather... being cherished. It was strange.

(There are most certainly no feelings behind that kiss)

Alfons: "... What's with that look? Would you like more?"

~~Part 3~~

Alfons: "... What's with that look? Would you like more?"

Kate: "Huh? No way..."

Alfons: "I see, that's too bad."

I quickly backed away, and Alfons gently put me into his breast pocket.

Kate: "Evening hasn't come yet, so don't get ahead of yourself."

Alfons: "I'm not. This was just a thank you for your encouragement."

Kate: "...... fine, just please hurry up to the castle."

Alfons: "Yes, yes, as you wish."

(I'm already being swayed by him...)

I tried to ignore the fact that... I did not mind it in the slightest.

~~~

Roger's eyes widened a little when he saw us coming back with the drug.

Roger: "It's rare for Al to just get the job done like that."

Kate: "Huh? You thought he wouldn't do it?"

Roger: "Uh-huh. Frankly, I was certain I wouldn't see him until morning."

Kate: "And yet you sent us there..."

Roger: "Well, if you brought it, then great, if not, I'd just go get it myself like I originally planned, right?"

Alfons: "That's the kind of man he is, Kate. He doesn't care about other people's feelings, only thinking about his own convenience."

Kate: "...... you do hate Roger after all?"

Alfons: "Nah, certainly not?"

Roger: "So you do like me then?"

Alfons: "Not hating doesn't equal liking."

Kate: "Anyway, now we have all the ingredients for the medicine...?"

Roger: "Yeah, and the results I've been waiting for show promise as well. All we have to do is to mix this stuff."

Kate: "Will this help me get back to normal...?"

Roger: "It might. In theory, it should counteract the effects of the drug you took."

Kate: "I'm just grateful for this chance!"

Alfons: "It's almost like a human experiment, isn't it? You never know until you try."

Roger: "That's right. The final decision whether to drink it or not is up to you, young lady."

--- When the medicine was ready, I gulped it in one go.

~~Part 4~~

Alfons: "Please come out, Kate. No need to hide."

Kate: "... When you said 'tonight', what time exactly did you have in mind....?"

Alfons: "Ah-ha! It's the time after the sun sets. Don't be a bad sport and try to wiggle out of our deal."

(Urrgh...)

In the end, my body was still not back to normal, the sky was already tinted the colour of night, and the moon was shining brightly.

I ducked behind the typewriter to hide from Alfons and was struck by another bout of dizziness.

(What if the medicine has no effect, neither tonight, tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow...?)

(What if the effects of the drug were irreversible and I really stayed like this for the rest of my life...?)

The more I thought about it, the more I felt like crying.

Alfons: "...... you're thinking about it again, don't you?"

Alfons: "Come now, it's futile. Just show yourself and let's do something fun."

As I hesitated, I heard a rattling noise, followed by sudden silence.

Kate: "Alfons...?"

--- there was no reply.

After waiting a few moments without hearing any sounds, I became more restless.

When I quietly emerged from my hiding place... I found Alfons slumped over the desk.

Kate: "...ah, Alfons?"

Kate: "S-stop messing around and get up, please..."

--- nothing.

(No doubt this is a trap to lure me out...)

Kate: "Alfons..."

(......still)

(What if he really collapsed from some kind of seizure ---?)

Kate: "Hey, is anyone out there...!?"

Even when I screamed, the sound my little body made was too quiet to reach other rooms.

(I should go get help. Roger might still be in the basement...)

I looked down at the floor. It wasn't going to be easy trying to get down having the body of a little kitten.

If I fell down, in the worst case scenario I would die. Serious injury was a given.

(However...I had no other choice)

Kate: "I need to get help..."

(It seems the best way to climb down is using Alfons)

Kate: "Pardon me."

I climbed up his arm towards the shoulder, then slowly slid down his tie.

Until my foot got caught in the tie pin ---

The pin fell out and the tie swayed dangerously.

Kate: "Waah...!"

(I'm going to fall ---!)

I instinctively grabbed it, but my tiny hands couldn't get a hold --

As I braced myself for impact, something suddenly wrapped around my body.

Alfons: "......I didn't expect you to actually try to get help."

~~Part 5~~

As I braced myself for impact, something suddenly wrapped around my body.

Alfons: "......I didn't expect you to actually try to get help."

Kate: "Huh...?"

I opened my eyes with a wince and saw grey eyes looking down at me in astonishment.

Alfons: "You really are so ridiculously selfless."

Kate: "Alfons...!?"

Before I managed to register being caught by Alfons' hand, I was already gently placed back on the desk.

Kate: "Are you all right...?"

Alfons: "Yes, of course. It was an act."

Kate: "You were pretending...!?"

Alfons: "I was curious if you would actually try to help me if I collapsed, considering your size."

Blood rushed to my face when a black-gloved finger poked the top of my head.

Kate: "T-that's horrible...! You have no respect for people's feelings...!"

Alfons: "Yes, feel free to curse at me. It's an appropriate punishment for doubting your sincerity."

(Seriously, this guy...!)

I felt a mixture of anger and relief, which ultimately made me bite my tongue and say nothing in return.

Alfons muttered whilst looking at me.

Alfons: "...... As expected, it doesn't really matter what your body looks like, Kate."

Kate: "What...?"

Alfons: "Whether big or small, you are still you."

Alfons: "Even though you're easily hurt, you're so foolishly honest."

The unexpected sincerity in his eyes took away all the conflicting emotions I had felt just a moment earlier.

Seeing that smile made my chest tighten, and the pang of loneliness I felt was akin to the one experienced when staring at a distant star.

(Why are you looking at me like that......?)

Alfons: "Yes, you're so foolishly honest, and..."

Alfons: "You love to feel good."

Kate: "Ah......!?"

His fingertips traced my body.

Alfons had a cheerful smile on his face; no trace of the vulnerability he had shown just a moment earlier.

(I have a bad feeling about this...)

Alfons: "A deal is a deal, and now I'm going to do whatever I want with you."

Kate: "Wha...."

The hands of the clock pointed to 10 pm.

--- There was no indication that my body was going to return to normal.

Epilogue

#ikemen villains #ikevil #alfons sylvatica #ikevil alfons #ikevil story event #fan translation

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artsybelle1015 · 1 year

Text

Azul x Chubby!Confident!Reader

His friend tilted his head, smiling though in amusement. He had expressed to Jade about these thoughts, which was a mistake now he realized. This irritated Azul, it would be a foolish idea to bring you in…

Warnings(!!!): body insecurities, talk about bullying, self esteem issues, other than that it’s all good! SPOILERS FOR BOOK 3!!!

•••

He hated you deeply.

It wasn’t fair, how come you were liked? He was your weight in his childhood, yet was ridiculed all his life for that.

How could you not hate your chest, stomach, arms, and legs? It made no sense to him.

You were a pulled apart puzzle, needing to be pieced together, or at least that’s how he felt about you in his mind. Most of his thoughts whenever he saw you in the halls or at Mostro Lounge was how were you able to be so happy, how were you not bullied, what made you so special that he lacked.

“Ugh, you’re still thinking of Shrimpy?” Floyd whined, laying himself across the couch in Azul’s VIP room, giving a dramatic body language to accentuate his boredom. “Why don’t you just ask, you were probs just unlucky.”

Azul glared up at his supposed friend and subordinate. He was trying to get paperwork done, but a part of him was distracted heavily, and Floyd clearly caught onto it.

In his mind, he kept wondering about you, whether he wanted to or not. You were just an impulsive thought to him.

With a sigh, Azul finally spoke, “Floyd, I would appreciate if you headed out the door.”

Floyd laid on his stomach, kicking his legs and smiling. “Are you in love with shrimpy?”

A jolt happened with Azul, eyes wide and face red. That was not expected, he was not prepared for such a thing. No, he did not love you, what a putrid thought. He was simply curious about your mentality…

“Oyyy~ am I correct~?” Floyd cackled.

“You are in fact incorrect,” Azul scoffed, face still on fire, “and I think this is your cue to leave.”

The normally stubborn and moody Floyd stood up and headed to the door with a smile, simply leaving. Azul knew he was about to cause mayhem.

___

He was absolutely correct, Floyd informed Jade of the misunderstanding. Now Jade was giving Azul a look, a creepy smile forming and slowing a slight glimpse of his sharpened teeth.

This made Azul continually redden throughout the day and get sloppy with his business man persona.

It’s ridiculous, Azul thought. I don’t not like the Prefect.

Although he swore to himself and the twins that was the case, but his actions spoke in a different way.

Ever since Floyd asked that really dumb and specific question, Azul couldn’t help but notice you even more. The way you walked, how you smiled, how you looked sleepy, how you were with your first year friends and Grim. It was all becoming enchanting. You were so interesting.

It became less about your body and more about you. He just loved every part of you from top to bottom.

There was no hatred in your heart, it was him projecting his insecurities onto you in his mind.

“Just tell them that,” Jade cooed.

Azul pushing up his glasses, having a pink tinted face. “I will not.”

“Yo, boss, shrimpy’s here~” Floyd called out, opening the door without consent.

And there appeared you, standing there confused and having your arm in a death grip by Floyd. Azul jumped and became more red seeing you.

Jade chuckled, “My, Azul, we were just talking about the Prefect now, weren’t we?”

Angry eyes flicked to Jade, he had pieced together they were setting him up now. He decided to take charge and speak up, keeping his eyes off you of course, but his voice stuttered despite that, “W-well Prefect… you are f..free to leave if you… you so like.” The businessman persona was completely gone.

“But Floyd told me you needed talk to me,” you inquired, a little puzzled look from his behavior. Floyd finally letting you go so you could walk over to him.

Floyd snickered and motion for Jade to head out with him.

And so they did, leaving only you and Azul, who had a pure red face.

“What’s up?” you decided to ask, weary of the shady business man, but decided to take a seat across the couch from him.

Taking a deep breath, Azul finally looked at you. He looked so vulnerable and like his teenage age, he was in love. Love was something he kept distance, mainly preserving for his family. There was no preparation for the outcome he could fall in love with another like him too.

He had expected if he were to have a lover they would also be as hard-working and able to adapt to other people, but you didn’t try to change yourself for others. In fact, no one minded you, you were loved. He was both jealous and happy about that. You deserved it after all. This was more attractive to him than he originally thought.

“Why don’t we make a deal?” he muttered.

You scoffed, “Is that why I’m here?”

“No… no, I promise I won’t… try to hurt you… I just…” he was stammering on, trying to think of the words to say, “I’m not sure how to use my feelings…”

The originally annoyed Prefect gave a soft look, you were amazed hearing Azul out of all people say that. It was sweet.

“Well… I’m interested in you, and I know we haven’t talked as much,” he exclaimed, finally cooling down and feeling a bit more prideful. “Would you like to spend time with me sometime soon? Just the two of us? No business deals or contracts… if you desire.” He gulped, antsy about your answer that his leg began to bounce.

You chuckled, thinking on it a bit, then looking to him with a blush across your face. “Sure! Thank you.”

He made a stupid smile at that and pushed up his glasses. “How about we exchange phone numbers.”

The two of you exchanged numbers, and you headed off, Azul’s heart was racing so fast. How could you be so perfect? Although he was quite upset with Jade and Floyd, they had helped him.

Who knew he could fall in love with someone who reminded him of his deepest insecurities?

•••

Author’s Note: I hope this is okay I didn’t really want to make a super long post because I’m a bit tired going back to school and it not being a weekend. My friend requested for me to do this so shout out to them!

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gloomzombie · 2 months

Text

I'll Bury You For This

Pairings: Jeff the Killer X Male Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,554

Chapter Five: The Pros and Cons of Breathing

Ch.1 , Ch.2 , Ch.3 , Ch.4

August 21. 12:34pm.

Gage’s arms around me aren’t enough to pull me out of the blurry and noisy state my mind is in. His lips press against my cheek before he pulls out of the hug. “I’ll see you Monday, then?” He asks, and I nod. Though he’s right here, he sounds so far away. “See you,” I responded. I hesitate for a second before giving him a small kiss. “Bye Gage,” I whisper. His face flushes. “Bye, Y/N.” I get on my bike that was left just outside his door, and take off down the pristine pavement.

The ride home is quick, not only because of the relatively short distance, but also because I’m not paying attention. I got to the house faster than I really wanted to. I’m putting my bike down against the house without really registering it. Only when I’m at the door do I take a second to slow down. I sigh heavily. I don’t want to go. Why did I waste my time with Gage like that? I wish I could’ve stayed. I shake my head and stick my key into the knob, twisting open the door.

When I walk in, John isn’t there. Thank god. I shut the door behind me quietly and make my way down the hallway just as silent. I peek into his room to see him passed out on his bed, snoring. I quickly go into my room, then shut and lock the door. I sit my backpack down next to my bed and lie down in it. Ugh. Going from Gage’s back to this is terrible. I take my phone out and check the time. 12:47pm. I bite my lip. I guess I should start getting ready.

I got up and changed outfits, because for some reason I didn’t bring some for today; this morning I changed into what I wore yesterday, which did not smell good. The stench of cigarettes and beer isn’t exactly pleasant. I slip into some more comfortable pants that I got from the last time I went to Hot Topic, along with a My Chemical Romance shirt I got the same day (with a long sleeve underneath of course). I slide a studded belt through the loops on my pants. I don’t feel like being extra today, so I leave the accessories at that.

I unzip my backpack and take out my meds along with the water bottle I left in there yesterday. I press the capsule pill to my tongue and swallow it down with gulps of water. I hope I don’t get a headache this time because I never did take one yesterday. I sit back down on my bed. I’ll just listen to music until it’s time to leave, starting with Siouxsie and the Banshees.

August 21. 1:54pm.

I took the familiar route to my favorite bookstore. I figured I should walk since he usually drives me in his car once we meet up. I’m not entirely sure how that’s gonna go. The last time I was in his car, he made me drive (illegally, I don’t have a license) while he and his ex made out drunkenly in the backseat. All throughout the walk, my mind was swarmed with a buzzing sound. Not literally, but it might as well have been just sound with the way I couldn’t stop fucking thinking.

I’m sweating by the time I reach the store, only slightly, but enough to make me feel disgusting. The lovely breezes at night have been getting cooler, but it has barely dented the warmer weather during the day. I wish I wore a tank top today, but even just the thought of having people stare at my arms and wrists makes my skin crawl. I hate attention, especially the bad kind.

I sigh as I sit down on the sidewalk, beside the door. I watch cars and bikes pass by as I listen to music, waiting for Xander’s car to show up. I hum along to the lyrics of I Will Not Bow by Breaking Benjamin. I will not bow / I will not break / I will shut the world away / I will not fall / I will not fade / I will take your breath away.

I sit up at the sight of his black toyota pulling into the parking spot in front of me. I pause the song and take out my earbuds, putting them back into my pocket. I stand up, brushing off my pants and sliding my phone into my back pocket. I suddenly wished I wore a light jacket so I had something to do with my hands, though that wouldn’t have been great due to the heat. I could’ve worn just the jacket if I had thought about it.

I think he trimmed his hair up, because it looks all choppy, much more so than before. His hair’s been freshly dyed black too, some dye still staining his neck. He walks up to me, his hands shoved into the pockets of his skinny jeans somehow. “Hey Y/N.” He smiles at me and it makes me feel nervous. He’s gonna want to talk to me about whatever it is later it seems.

“Hey Xan.” I respond coolly. I’ve already decided I’m letting him do all the talking until he wants to address the elephant in the room. “Well, let’s go.” he responds after a second of staring at me. Weird. I lead the way inside. “Where do you wanna go?” I ask and turn to look at him. He shrugs. “I dunno. I guess wherever you go the most.” I roll my eyes and walk down the countless bookshelves into many different rooms.

I can feel his hand touch mine a few times, which makes my eyebrows furrow. I don’t say anything about it, as his touch doesn’t linger, but it’s still really weird. He doesn’t usually do physical affection with me; that’s something he saves for his girlfriends and hookups and crushes, even though that’s not the word he likes to use for them.

We make it to the familiar Y/A + Horror section, a section that I always visit. I tap my finger on my chin as I look down the aisles. I didn’t think about buying any books today, but I probably will- especially since Xander’s paying for lunch. “So, what do you usually get when you come here?” I hear him ask from the front of the area. He’s looking at the Stephen King books, though I doubt he’s gonna buy anything from a bookstore.

“Whatever’s on my list. I just finished a series, so I don’t have much to really start with now.” I bend down at the knees to look at the bottom of the fantasy shelf. I carefully picked out a book- Realm Breaker by Victoria Aveyard. “You have a list?” I stand up straight and walk down an aisle back to the novels. I picked up one of the books that they stood up straight and examined it- Girl in Pieces by Kathleen Glasgow. I’ve heard really good reviews about it.

I take the books in my arms, holding them close. “Yeah. How else am I gonna keep track of all the books I’ve read, and all the ones I want to read?” I ask, walking up to where he’s standing. He’s looking at the Twilight books. “Think I’m gonna get one.” He mutters. I stare at him, my eyes widening. “Really?” I ask. “Twilight?”

“Well yeah. Is there something wrong with that?” He gives me a glare. I shake my head. Why is he being so defensive? “Of course not. Just, why Twilight?” I ask, looking not at him, but at the bookshelf. “Because I know you really liked those books, and hated the movies apparently,” He murmurs in the last part. His words rattle in my brain. I don’t understand them. He’s never shown interest in my interests like this. So what changed? Maybe he feels bad about practically leaving me to deal with my shit alone for months straight. But, then again, I know him well enough to know that probably isn’t true. Xander suddenly gaining a conscience? Please.

“Well, yeah. They left out so many important scenes from the books, and oh my god, don’t get me started on how they changed the way Rosalie tells Bella her story in Eclipse.” He laughs. “Guess I’ll have to read the books first then.” I look back at him and he’s already looking at me, a small smile on his lips. My face heats up. “Yeah. You will.”

I shake my head a little and step back. “But you really don’t have to buy one. You can borrow mine. I have the whole set plus Midnight Sun.” I offer. I’ve underlined stuff in the books, but it's just a romance- not anything personal, so I’m really not worried about him reading them. He looks down at the book in his hands. Slowly, he shakes his head. “Nah. I think I want to start collecting books the way you do.” He looks back up at me. “Do you think I should get New Moon too?”

We make our way through the endless hallways to the front with our books. I placed mine on the checkout counter. “Just these two?” Melissa asks. I still have to thank her for the last time I was here; she rounded my total down because I didn’t bring enough cash. But not while Xander’s here. As I go to speak, he interrupts me. “Four. I’ll be paying,” He places his books beside mine. Melissa nods and starts scanning the books. I glare at him. I can feel my face grow unbearably hot. Why is he paying for me?

“Your total is 48 dollars and 34 cents for two used hardcovers and two new paperbacks. Cash or card?” Melissa smiles at me, then looks at Xander. After he hands her the cash, he takes our books into his arms before I get the chance to take mine. He smiles at me, then leads the way to the door. As soon as the door shuts, I pull my books from his arms into my own. “I can pay for my fucking self, you know.”

I don’t wait to see his reaction. I step down onto the pavement and stand by his passenger door, waiting for him to unlock it. I stare at my reflection in the glass. I grimace and open the door as soon as I hear it unlock. I slide in and place my books down in my lap before closing the door. I put on my seatbelt and stare at the books, running my hand over the cover of Girl in Pieces. I distract myself by thinking about how different the cover feels than most paperbacks I own. It’s soft somehow; pretty looking and pretty feeling.

“I didn’t know that’d make you so upset,” Xander speaks through the silence, starting the car. I chew on my bottom lip, tearing the skin. I fight the nerves and look over at him. His eyes are on the road as he pulls out of the parking lot. Have his hands always looked that good? They’re more veiny looking than I remember. He’s probably practicing with his guitar again.

I sigh. “Sorry for that. There’s a lot on my mind and I-” “No, no. I’m sorry. For assuming you wanted me to pay, and, well…” He trails off, and as I look at his face, I see how he looks different, even there. There’s a softness to his features that wasn’t really there before. He looks somehow different than he did a few months ago.

“Where do you want to eat?” he asks, his fingers tapping the wheel to the beat of the music. I look away. “I don’t know, really. Anything is fine.”

He takes us to the diner we used to go to every other day. I think it makes me emotional, but I can’t really tell if it’s this, or if I was already feeling it. When our food is ready, he takes it in one hand and, weirdly enough, mine in the other. What’s happened to him that he’s wanting so much physical affection from me? When we get in the car, I place my books in the backseat with his so I can hold the food. I lean my head up against the window as he drives silently to the park, with A Day To Remember playing in the background.

As he drove, I kept my phone by my leg. That’s usually not a great sign, when I don’t use my phone the way I always do. It’s getting bad again, I’m sure. I never realize it until I’m already deep in it.

He parks the car, but sits there for a moment. “Y/N?” he asks. I look over at him. He’s got this sort of pained expression on his face. One I’ve only ever seen once. When his dad cheated on his mom and the yelling, throwing things, and beating started; he’d come sneak into my room through the window I’m not allowed to open. It was the only time I really felt like we could’ve been something more, even though I knew even then it wasn’t happening.

I’d let him cry into my shirt, clinging onto me as if I was the only thing he needed. And I was, but not in the way I really wanted. He’d talk to me about it through sobs while I rubbed his back, and wiped the tears from his eyes. Those were the moments I really knew I loved him. And even now, some twisted part of me still does. God I can’t think about that anymore, can I?

“Yeah?” I bite my lip. He turns to meet my stare, and it looks as if he’s about to cry. “Y/N..” He whispers, and his hands move from his lap up to my face. It feels like my throat is closing up. I can’t breathe, so I turn my head away, his hands retreating back. “Let’s go,” I say, opening the car door quickly and sliding out. I shut the door and look around.

This place used to have more woods, but then they started adding to the playground- more climbing rocks, swings, and other weird stuff I can’t put a name to. I start walking to the picnic tables when I hear his door shut. I sit down on one of them, Xander taking a seat in front of me. We take the food out of the bag and start eating in silence.

I can’t help but think about the way he’s been acting today. It’s so different from how I know him. It’s kind of worrying me. I gaze at him, his attention on his food. I examine his face more. His eyes are sunken, though the lines under his eyes are only slightly noticeable. I look him down and I notice he’s gotten skinnier. Skinnier than usual of course, as he always was twig like.

His eyes meet mine and my face heats up, my eyes drop down to the fries I haven’t finished. I eat a few more, and after a few seconds, Xander speaks up. “I’m 3 weeks sober, y’know.” I raise my eyebrows and look up at him again. He’s still looking at me, but his facial expression is serious. Of course it is, this is something serious.

“Really? From what?” I ask and immediately regret it. He grimaces and I realize that’s really not something I should ask since there’s so much it could be. “Sorry.” “No, it’s fine.” He sighs, looking back down at his food. “Everything, Y/N. The drugs, the alcohol…the cutting too,” he mutters. He jams a fry harshly into the ketchup dumped onto his hamburger wrapper. “Well, everything but cigarettes. I won’t be able to quit those for a while, or at least not anytime soon.” I nod. “Hey, that’s awesome Xander. Really, I’m proud of you.” For the first time in months, I reached out to touch him, caressing his hand. He looks back up at me, and I can see the tears welling up in his eyes.

I can’t help but feel like crying too. In the past few days, I’ve been getting more and more prone to it. I usually don’t cry nearly as much as I have this week. More reason to believe it’s getting bad again. Though I guess this is different. Reasonable. My best friend is sober for probably the first time in years. This is the farthest he’s gotten with it; he’s only ever been able to get to one week before he starts with, “Y/N, please let me drink some of your beer. I promise it’ll be just one drink,” or “Pass me the bong, will you? I know, I just couldn’t take it anymore. You understand, don’t you Y/N?”

He turns his palm upwards, holding my hand in his. “Thanks. That means a lot.” I smile, and he smiles too. A sad smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. I pull my hand back, and his smile drops. “Besides that..” He starts, and takes a deep breath. “I wanted to…apologize.” Well, that I did not expect. Hoped for? Yes. Expected? Absolutely not.

I wait a few seconds before responding. “For…what?” I ask. His fingers tap on the wooden table. “For…well, being an asshole. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out before, or come to school, or-” He inhales sharply, looking anywhere but at me. “Did you not come to school because of..me?” I ask, my jaw dropping a little. I never thought he did that because of ME.

He nods, still not looking at me. “Not all of it was because of you. There were a lot of reasons. Mainly because of how fucking hard it is to go there and want to stay sober, but it was also because I can’t stand all the attention anymore. It was because I didn’t want to see my shit ton of exes again or..” he sighs before looking at me, finally. “I didn’t want to see you because looking at you made me feel...bad.”

I blink. How do I feel about this new information? How am I supposed to feel about it? I chew on my lip as I process what he’s just said. He doesn’t like all those girls that follow him around? All the girls that surround him constantly? And looking at me makes him feel bad? “Why?” I ask. I have to know.

He hesitates, his fingers scratching at the table. “Uh..Well…” He groans, moving his hands up to cover his face. He mutters something into his hands, but I can’t understand it. “What?” He slams his hands down on the table and I flinch. “Because I can’t stand to look at you when you don’t look at me.” My brows furrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He stares at me, his deep brown eyes piercing into mine. Suddenly, his hands are cupping my face the way they did in the car. In a quick motion, he pulls my head forward and his lips meet mine. I’m so taken off guard by this that I sit still for a bit. What the fuck? I push him away from me, swing my legs over the bench and stand up quickly. “What the fuck? What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I’m screaming at him and I don’t even care. “Who the hell do you think you are doing that to me?” I’m breathing in and out so harshly, it feels like my lungs are on fire.

“Y/N-” “Kiss my ass, Xander. I loved you. I loved you for so many fucking years. And when I’m finally, FINALLY, getting over your ass you go and do this? And I’m supposed to just go along with it?” My face feels so wet; my throat feels like it’s closing up and I’m choking on the words that spit out of my mouth.

I start to laugh, but it sounds and feels so wrong with all the crying mixed with it. “What the hell is wrong with you, Xander? And I started to believe you were getting your shit together,” I pick up my trash and move as fast as I can to the nearest trash can. The sound of crunching leaves follows me. “Y/N please,” He whines as I throw out my trash. I spin on my heels to face him. I don’t think twice about it; I punch him in the face as hard as I can.

He’s shocked, flinching away from me as soon as my fist pulls back. His nose is bleeding, and I’m sure it feels even worse with the tears streaming down his face. “I loved you too. I just didn’t realize it,” He’s sobbing; there’s so many cracks in his voice I barely understand what he’s saying. “Just leave me alone, Xander.” My voice is just as pitiful sounding as his. He pleads with me more, begging me not to leave. I don’t care. I don't care. I take off, sprinting out of the park as fast as my feet will let me.

#jeff the killer #creepypasta #creepypasta x you #jeff the killer x male reader #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer x you #slenderman #x male reader

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vodika-vibes · 9 months

Text

Pod Racer! Neyo x Reader

Summary: Star Wars AU - Pod Racer Neyo wins yet another Pod Race, and decides that things need to change.

Pairing: Neyo x Reader

Word count: 1578

Songs: None

Warnings: None

A/N: This was requested by @starrrgazingbunny, so I hope it's close to what you wanted.

Divider by saradika

“How’s it looking?”

You don’t look up from the drafting paper as Neyo walks into the garage, “Bad.” You reply, as you make another note on the paper, and then spin on your stool to look at your boss.

“What’s wrong with it?” Neyo asks as he walks over and leans over your shoulder, his gaze sharp as he took in all of the information. He frowns, “It looks solid to me.”

“The numbers don’t add up. I’m telling you, that Toydarian racer did something to your pod.” You argue.

He glances at you, and then back at the numbers, “You may be right. Can you fix it?”

“What am I? A miracle worker?”

“You’ve never failed before.”

“Ugh. I hate you. Yes, I can fix it, but it’s going to take me all night, Neyo.” You say with a scowl.

He flashes the smallest smile, and you intentionally focus your attention on the draft paper so, hopefully, he won’t see you blush. Damn him and his stupid smile.

“I’ll make it up to you,” He says lightly, leaning his weight against the table.

“You better,” You pick up your pencil and start doing some quick calculations, “I like watching the races too, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” You feel his hand, warm and gentle, on the top of your head, and then he’s gone, likely going to rest for the race the following day.

You tap your pencil against your forehead, and let out a sigh of annoyance. Later. You would deal with the emotions later. Now you need to get Neyo’s pod-racer back into working order, and make sure that it won’t blow up with him in it.

No pressure.

True to your calculations, it takes you half the night to repair the sabotage, and then the rest of the night to get the pod back to Neyo standards.

You’re running on Caf and ration bars, and almost no sleep, but the racer is in one piece, and it looks even better than it did before the sabotage. A fresh coat of paint, in Neyo’s deep crimson naturally, was the final touch.

“She looks perfect,” You jump when you hear Neyo’s voice from next to you, he glances at you, amused.

“Don’t do that!” You blurt, pressing your hand to your racing heart, “Fuck, Neyo. I need to get you a bell or something-”

He smirks, “Did you finish?” He asks.

You shoot him an offended look, “Of course I finished! She’s in perfect working order, and I even made some adjustments so sabotage like that will never happen again.”

Neyo glances at you, and a slow smile crosses his face, “Good girl.”

Oh. Nope. Abort.

You very pointedly don’t look at him, “Well, hop to it.” You said, “I’m sure you wanna give it a test.”

“Hm.” You feel his fingers against your spine for a moment, and then he’s gone, easily hopping into the pilot seat and checking the systems that you’ve already triple checked.

“Well?”

“Looks good.” He replies, his gaze locked on the panel in front of him, “All that’s left is winning the race. Maybe I’ll use the prize money to buy you something nice.”

“Please, we both know you’re going to use the prize money to upgrade the racer.” You roll your eyes, and then walk over to the racer, “Alright, time to load her up. The race starts in 3 hours, and we need to be there in one.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He powers down the pod, and lifts himself, “You got things settled here?”

“Of course I do. The pod will be loaded up in fifteen and then Ace will drive the truck to the race track.”

“Do you really need Ace to drive the truck?” Neyo asks.

You roll your eyes, “A side effect of having stayed up all night, boss, is that I’m not going to the race today. I’m going to sleep.”

Neyo frowns at you, “You love the races.”

“I do. I’ll watch the next one.” You reply, “Honestly, Neyo. I need the sleep. You and Ace will be fine without me for 12 hours.”

“...fine. I’ll see you later then.” He says flatly, sounding very unimpressed, before he leaves the garage.

You momentarily feel bad for the other racers, Neyo in a foul mood meant that there were likely to be a lot of crashes. You make a note to remind Ace to pack Neyo’s thicker race suit and helmet.

And then you load up the racer and you watch as Ace and Neyo leave the garage for the race track. And as soon as the truck was gone, you vanish into your bedroom, intent on sleeping until they return in 12 hours.

10 hours later, you wake up, and immediately turn on the pod race. The race itself is long over, but you love being able to hear who won and any highlights.

A small grin crosses your lips when you hear that Neyo came in first, and you shake your head in amusement when you hear that he accidentally caused several near fatal accidents with other racers. Typical Neyo.

With the highlights running, you make your way to the kitchen that you share with Neyo, and you start making him his normal victory meal. It sounds like the race was very eventful, you kind of regret not being able to make it, but, well, you needed the sleep, so it’s a very small regret.

And, an hour and a half later, just as you pull dinner out of the oven, you hear the truck pull into the garage. You know, from years of experience, that Ace would unload the truck, and then he would clean it, before he retired to his charging station for the night. And, depending on his mood, Neyo would either come directly to the kitchen, or he would go into his room to shower.

The main door slides open, and Neyo steps into the kitchen, he looks surprised, “You made dinner?” He asks, his gaze lingering on the glass dish sitting on the counter.

“Mm. I saw that you won, so it’s your favorite.” You reply cheerfully, “It looks like it was an eventful race, I’m sorry I missed it.”

“It was alright.” He pauses, “It’s never the same when you’re not there, though.”

You roll your eyes, “So sorry that my not being there threw off your groove.”

“I accept your apology.” Neyo replies loftily, a small grin crossing his lips as you shoot him an offended look. “I want you to come to the next race.”

“So long as I don’t have to pull an all nighter, I will be.” You promise, “But it isn’t like you need me there to help ward off your adoring fans.” You tease as you think about the men and women who always tried to convince Neyo to go home with them after a race.

He scoffs. “I want to race, I don’t want any fans, adoring or otherwise.”

True. Neyo always ignores them, which only makes him more popular. But you’ve long since accepted that Neyo probably just didn’t do relationships like that. It hurts, but, well, your emotions are your problem, not his.

“If you don’t want fans, Neyo, then you need to be less charming.”

“I literally told one of the people who tried to talk me into going home with her that I didn’t want whatever diseases she was carrying.” Neyo replies blandly.

“What! Neyo! That’s so mean!” You yelp, spinning on your heel to look at him.

“Yeah, well. So is trying to pressure me into doing something I don’t want to do.” He counters.

You laugh weakly, “Neyo, I know you don’t really do relationships, but you’ve got to learn to be nicer-”

“Says who?”

“...literally everyone says you need to be nice to your fans-”

“No, not that.” Neyo interrupts, “Who says that I’m not interested in relationships?”

You blink, “Oh. I just guessed, since you never seem interested in, well, anyone.”

“I’m not interested in the vultures who swarm after I win a race, that doesn’t mean I don’t do relationships.” Neyo says.

“Ah. My bad.” You smile apologetically, and then turn to start divvying out the dinner, “In any event, you do need to start being nicer to people-”

Neyo stares at you, for a long time, and then he reaches out and stops you from serving the food, “It’s you.” He says bluntly.

“...what’s me?” You ask eyes wide.

“You’re the one I’m interested in. Have been for ages. I thought the nicknames and the way that I’m always touching you would be a bit of a hint.” Neyo continues.

You stare at him in disbelief.

He stares right back, arms folded and amusement writ on his face.

“Me?” You squeak.

“You.” He agrees, and then he smiles, “You want me to prove it, sweetheart?”

“Uh…” You’re not really sure what to say, in fact the only thought in your brain is a series of increasingly loud question marks.

He chuckles, and leans in, “Do you want me to stop?” Neyo asks, his eyes alight with mirth.

“...Please don’t.” You whisper up to him.

At that he grins, and crashes his lips against yours and starts walking you backwards out of the kitchen. You whine into the kiss and he rumbles in pleasure, as he shifts and lifts you into his arms to carry you into his room.

#star wars #tcw #star wars fanfiction #commander neyo x reader #neyo x reader #x reader fanfiction

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years

Text

look down on me like that - 5 (explicit)

genre: slow burn enemies to lovers hatefucking coworkers au, smut (w some eventual angst)

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary: your asshole coworker min yoongi has made it his personal mission to ruin your life.

word count: 11.4k (you're welcome 😌)

contains: ~explicit sexual content~ !! *deep breath in* YES THERE IS ACTUAL FUCKING HAPPENING - EVERYONE REMAIN CALM. also i promise this is the most unhinged reader gets lmao. alright let's go: one night stand/stranger sex, semi-public sex (bathroom of a bar), fingering, spanking, a truly gratuitous blowjob, orgasm denial, a smidge of dirty talk/namecalling, finger sucking?, protected sex, semi-awkward sex lmao, the hatefucking is HERE 🙌🏻 plenty of alcohol mentions as always,, so much alcohol. this chapter also features a couple fun cameos - kihyun of monsta x and wonho 💜

A/N: hope y'all enjoy this absolute CHAOS!! i have so many lovely friends who cheered me on while i was writing this, far too many to name, but i fucking adore you all 🥺🥺 and i do want to specifically shoutout @kiestrokes because the ~spicy twist~ in this chapter would not be HALF as good if it wasn't for her and her big beautiful brain. srsly she took a half-baked idea i had and made it insane. god i love that woman. ALRIGHT ENOUGH BABBLING - ENJOY!!!!!

read on AO3!

chapter four | masterlist | chapter six

~*~

“Try this.” Jimin yanks an emerald green dress off the hanger and chucks it over his shoulder, nearly hitting you.

“Ugh, I hate this one,” you groan as you hold the offending item up for inspection, pinched between index finger and thumb. “The fabric is so itchy.”

Your best friend whips around, hands on hips, when you question his taste. “I’m sorry, did I just hear you going back on our agreement? Is that what this is?”

You groan, flopping over onto your bedspread, doing your best not to mess up your hair. Jimin had, understandably, been pissed when you’d called him immediately upon leaving the office last night, hands still shaking as you cradled the phone against your cheek. You think you have permanent hearing damage from the anguished wails your best friend made as you finally admitted everything you hadn’t told him. And you certainly could have done without the appreciative noises he made after he forced you to describe Suga’s dick in explicit detail.

It’s not like you aren’t constantly thinking about it, anyway.

Especially now that Yoongi has specifically told you everything, everything he wants to do to you. The words swim back to you in pieces whenever you aren’t actively trying to suppress the memory. Finger that tight little pussy. Spank you until you bruise. Fuck you like the slut you so clearly are.

God. You’ve been horny for 24 hours straight. This can’t be good for your health.

Jimin had nearly disowned you for letting secrecy infiltrate your friendship for the first time in over a decade, but then he’d realized how truly distraught you were as you just kept babbling into the phone about Suga, too far gone to make any sense.

“Jesus fucking christ, it’s not the end of the world!” He’d finally interrupted with a frustrated groan. “You really think Suga is the only man in the world who can fuck you senseless? He was probably overselling it anyway. Having a pretty dick doesn’t guarantee he knows what to do with it.”

At this point you’d stumbled onto the bus home, and you remember smacking your forehead against the cold glass of the window with a whine at the words pretty dick, your mind already departing on another Yoongi spiral.

Jimin’s peal of laughter rang in your ears. “I’ve never heard you down this bad in my life, good god girl! We just need to get you laid so your fucking brain can work right again.”

“Please,” you’d grunted.

“Alright, I’m coming over tomorrow, and we’re going out.” He’d paused then, and you knew there was more even before he continued. It was like you could hear his evil smile. “And I get to pick your outfit.”

You’re snapped out of the memory as a second dress is tossed your way, this one hitting you square in the face.

“Either the green or this one. You’re still in the doghouse, ma’am,” Jimin reminds you.

You pull the second option up to examine it, already grateful for the softer feel of the material. Jimin loves to put you in shit that you’d never wear— usually dresses that he bought for you, or bullied you into buying. You think you already dress pretty racy when you go out, but Jimin likes to take it to another level, always encouraging you to show more skin, more tits, more ass. He’s definitely responsible for this number even being in your closet: dark burgundy in color, it’s tight, short, and the cutouts leave very little to the imagination.

You whine softly despite yourself. “Do I have to? I’m going to freeze to death.”

Jimin has already moved to sit at your desk, examining his hair in the mirror you use to do your makeup. He’s in one of his favorite going-out shirts, one he claims “makes even the straight boys look twice”, a blue and white striped button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He doesn’t even bother making eye contact with you as he peers at his reflection, fiddling with the silver hoops in his ears. “I dunno. Depends on whether or not you value my friendship.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics. “I can’t stand you.”

“Will you shut up and put your damn freakum dress on already?” He rummages through your makeup bag without asking until he finds what he’s looking for, a tube of Fenty gloss that he dabs in the center of his bottom lip.

“That is not what freakum dress means,” you say with a laugh as you stand to strip out of your sweats, but he’s already reaching for his phone that’s connected to your Bluetooth speaker, another requirement for the evening in order to keep your friendship intact. Beyoncé starts to blast as you pull your shirt over your head and suck in for dear life.

“So, what exactly is the plan?” You ask as soon as you swallow down another shot, nearly shouting to be heard over the noise of the bar. Jimin made you do a couple in your kitchen before you left, and though you haven’t even been out for an hour, you’re already straddling the line between tipsy and drunk.

He shoots you a look. “Don’t act so innocent, like I haven’t personally seen you go home with random dudes.”

Your gaze flits over the mass of bodies out on the dance floor. “I mean, yeah, but…” You shrug, grimacing slightly. “I don’t know, it’s been a while. And we’re not in college anymore.”

“What about him?” You look back at Jimin and he nods his head behind you. You do your best to be subtle as you glance over your shoulder to see two guys a couple of tables away.

“Which one?”

Jimin makes a face like it’s obvious. “Are you kidding me? The absolutely built daddy with the red hair?”

You examine them more closely, scrunching your nose up a little. He’s cute, big as hell, and you certainly notice his bubble butt in those tight pants. But it just doesn’t feel right. “I don’t know that he’s my type.” When your gaze lands on his friend, dressed in all black, dark hair skimming over his eyes as he leans in to say something, your heart flips in your chest. Now that could work.

Turning back to Jimin to say as much, you realize that he’s already brushing past you. “Well I’m not stupid,” he scoffs, and you scramble to follow after him as he stalks confidently across the room.

He’s already talking to them when you catch up. “Hi boys. Care for some company?”

They glance at each other, and you can tell Jimin’s presence is clearly unexpected but not unwelcome. He wasn’t wrong: nobody can resist him in that damn shirt.

“Sure,” red-haired daddy says with a shy giggle, and you have to bite back a smile. You were not expecting a guy that built to react so softly, and you already know your best friend is going feral on the inside. There is nothing Jimin loves more than a man he can fluster. Especially one who can make him pay for it.

His friend flags down a server and orders a round of shots for the table, then gives you a small wave as Jimin takes the liberty of giving his name and yours. “I’m Kihyun.”

“Hoseok,” Jimin's target is clearly squirming under his intense gaze. “But my friends call me Wonho.”

“Can I be your friend?” Jimin purrs. You’re nearly laughing at how quickly he lost the plot of trying to get you laid, but he’s also such an intense flirt that it nearly works as a wingman maneuver, in its own weird way.

You scoot a little closer to Kihyun as Jimin and Wonho disappear into their own conversation. Up close you can really admire how attractive he is, full lips and a wickedly sharp jawline.

“Hi,” you say with a smile, surprised to find yourself slightly nervous despite the alcohol coursing through your system.

“Hi,” he says back, and he looks like he’s about to say more when the server reappears with a tray of four shots.

“Thanks again for these,” you say as you reach for one, and he waves it off. You glance over at Jimin and Wonho, assuming they might want to toast as a group, but Jimin is already hooking his elbow around Wonho’s ridiculous bicep and making a not-at-all-subtle comment about how big he is, intertwining their arms before they each throw the shot back.

You look at Kihyun again, who is biting his lip nervously, and you can feel your face heat up. You’re no Jimin, so you settle for gently tapping your shot glass against his. “Cheers.”

He echoes the sentiment and you down your drinks simultaneously. You shiver a little as you swallow, but you’ve had enough that you don’t even feel the burn of the alcohol.

“So,” Kihyun’s eyes flit over to Jimin, then return to you. “Do you two come here a lot?”

You shrug. “We rotate. Jimin likes this place more than I do. You?”

He laughs softly. “Not really. Honestly, we’re both homebodies, but we try to get out every so often. Always nice to meet new people.” It’s so quick you nearly miss it, but you swear his eyes jump down your figure and back up again.

You try to ignore the little voice in your head reminding you of another pair of eyes; dark, calculating, wandering over your body. Not now.

“I couldn’t agree more,” you say, because it’s true: a new person is definitely what you need in this moment.

Before you can ask a follow-up question, you hear Jimin, talking loudly so that he’s audible over the music. “Your thighs look so good in those pants!” You have to resist the urge to smack your head against the table when you look over to see him attempting— and absolutely failing— to wrap his small hands around the circumference of Wonho’s leg, who is giggling like a schoolgirl.

You glance back at Kihyun, who is equally enraptured. “I’m so sorry,” you say quietly. “He is unfortunately always like this.”

“You know where else those thighs would look good?” Jimin’s voice lowers as he asks the question, and you watch Kihyun’s eyes go wide.

“Do you want to dance?” You say quickly, and he nods so fast you think his head might fall off. You start to break away from the group, his hand slipping to your waist, when Jimin smacks the table so loud that it makes you jump.

“Hey!” He yells, and you turn back, but he’s pointing at Kihyun, who instantly looks terrified. He leans in, as if to divulge confidential information, and Kihyun takes a tentative step towards him.

“Just so you’re aware,” Jimin starts, and you know it’s going to be bad. “She needs to get dicked down. Severely. Hope you’re ready.”

You close your hand around Kihyun’s wrist and drag him towards the dance floor, eager for a distraction to keep you from murdering your best friend.

Now that you’re actually in motion, you can feel the last couple of shots quickly catching up to you, the room blurring slightly at the edges. At the center of the dance floor, the thudding bass is loud enough to make it hard to think, which is exactly what you need right now.

You’re grateful not to have to force any more conversation, both of Kihyun’s hands slipping to your hips as you start to move in time to the music. It gives you free reign to admire him up close, and damn, he really is gorgeous. He’s only a little taller than you in your heels— probably about the same height as Yoongi, though his frame is slighter, smaller. You watch as his dark hair falls into his eyes again and he reaches up to sweep it off his forehead— Yoongi’s hair is a little longer, and he certainly has much better hands, but other than that—

You have to squeeze your eyes shut when you realize what the fuck you're doing. The whole point of this encounter is to stop thinking about Yoongi. Not pick apart this absolute stranger in comparison to him.

You desperately wish you could get another drink, but you know that would push you all the way into “drunk” territory. As much as you hate admitting it, Jimin was right: you really need to be able to consent to sex tonight. You’re gonna have to get through this the old-fashioned way, with sheer fucking willpower.

“Are you okay?”

Your eyes flutter open to meet Kihyun’s concerned gaze. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. Just, uh. Thinking about work.” Not a complete lie.

“Well, don’t,” he says with a soft laugh. “It’s the weekend. You should enjoy it.” His hands press a little tighter, pulling you close until your body is flush with his. His breath ghosts over your neck as you hear his voice in your ear. “That dress looks really good on you.”

A different voice echoes in your mind before you can stop it. Spread your legs for me. Show me what’s under that dress. You can’t help but wonder if this is what it feels like to literally go insane, and then you grab Kihyun’s face with both hands and kiss him in a desperate attempt to not think anymore.

You can feel him freeze, clearly not expecting it, but after a second his mouth starts to move against yours. His hands slip further down towards your ass, and fuck, it occurs to you that you are still incredibly horny. You need this to happen as soon as possible.

Pulling away and sliding your hands to Kihyun’s shoulders, you tilt up to speak into his ear. “Do you live near here?”

His eyes go wide for at least the third time tonight. “Y-yeah, not far.” You see his tongue dart out to lick his lips.

“I don’t know how to say this politely,” you admit with an embarrassed smile. “But my friend wasn’t wrong. About… what I need.”

He pauses for a moment, and your stomach twists as you prepare for rejection, the reasonable reaction considering you basically jumped this man like a crazy person. But then he smiles, leaning into you so he can keep his tone soft. “Come on, then.”

You follow Kihyun as he guides you towards the exit, keeping one hand pressed to the small of your back. It’s hard to miss the other half of your group making their way through the crowd— Wonho is large enough that people quickly shrink to get out of his way, but his gaze is entirely transfixed on Jimin’s ass in front of him. You nod in their direction and Kihyun follows as you push past bodies to reunite.

“Are you leaving?!” Jimin asks, and you can only nod. His eyes jump to Kihyun. “I told you, you better give it to her!” He shouts it so loudly that people standing behind him glance over their shoulders, but he is fully unfazed, now brandishing his cellphone. “And I always have her location on, so if you murder her, I will come find you!”

With a roll of your eyes, you lean across the circle so that Wonho can hear you. “Take good care of him, okay?” When you pull away, you swear he’s blushing as red as his hair, and he nods sheepishly.

You turn back to Kihyun. “Ready?”

The door to Kihyun’s apartment barely has time to close behind you before you find his lips with yours again. He presses you up against the wall of the entryway, and you waste no time in moving your hands over his body. His shirt and pants hit the floor in quick succession.

When he reaches for the hem of your dress, you cover his hands with yours to stop him. “Do you— is it okay if I keep it on?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, breathless. “Yeah, okay.”

He kisses you again and you let him guide you backwards through an open door into his bedroom until you feel the mattress hit the backs of your knees. You perch on the edge of the bed and glance around the room, taking it in. It’s clean, if minimally furnished, and your stomach flips when you see a nondescript work desk tucked into one corner.

You look at Kihyun when you feel his hand gently rub your thigh, encouraging you to spread your legs.

“Kihyun?”

“Yeah?”

Your gaze jumps to his desk, then back to him. “Do— uh… Do you think you could bend me over your desk?”

He seems a little dumbfounded, and takes a second to find words. “Wh— I— yeah, yes, I can do that. I just—” he clears his throat. “Do you need, like, foreplay, or…?”

You stand up again, knees shaking slightly. “I’ll tell you what to do, does that work?”

It must, because he kisses you, eventually starting to move towards the desk. When you’ve gotten far enough, you feel him tug at your hips, encouraging you to spin around so your back is flush with his chest. His hand slides up to your shoulders to gently press you forward, and you brace your forearms on the desk, already breathless.

“P-pull my dress up,” you manage to instruct. His hands caress over your thighs, then move to the hem of your dress, pushing up until your ass is fully exposed for him.

Get a good look at that ass you were tempting me with, the voice in your head finishes for you. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus on this moment, this man. Not any others.

You look back at Kihyun over your shoulder in an attempt to stay present, spreading your legs a little wider. “Touch me.”

He slowly moves a hand from your thigh up towards your core, and you feel his fingers just barely brush over the fabric of your underwear. The rush of contact after so much anticipation is enough to make you shiver slightly, but his touch is so light, so gentle.

Gentle is not what you need right now.

Keeping yourself held up on one arm, you reach the other behind you to forcefully tug your panties to the side. “Your fingers, Kihyun,” you hiss.

You tip your head forward and swallow down a whine of relief as he presses a digit into you and starts to rub circles. “How’s that?” His voice purrs in your ear, and you whimper as you nod.

It feels good, especially when he adds a second finger, but it’s not enough. He’s too soft, too tentative.

You look back at him again. “Can you spank me?”

You’ve officially lost count of the number of times you’ve surprised this man tonight. “I— what?”

“Like, smack my ass?”

“Like this?” He asks, but you barely feel it when he brings his hand down over your ass.

“Harder,” you say almost instantly, realizing after the fact that you could probably stand to be a little nicer to this random stranger. “Please.”

Kihyun’s second attempt is better, enough to make you groan softly as the sensation of the sting mixes with the movements of his fingers pressing against your front wall. He does it again, harder still, and you wiggle your ass back towards him— you need more, more than his hands can give.

“Kihyun,” you gasp, “want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? I’ll fuck you right here,” he grunts. At least he seems to be genuinely into it, you think to yourself gratefully. He smacks your ass a final time and you bite down on your lip as he withdraws his fingers. “One second.”

You hear the sound of him opening a drawer somewhere in his room and retrieving a condom, and you let your eyes flutter closed until his hands brush over your hips again.

“Ready?”

“Yes, Kihyun, please,” you beg, your head dropping down onto your forearms. “Please fuck me.” Desire is wound up so tight inside you that you can’t think about anything else; you need this so fucking badly.

He makes a strangled whine as he presses into you, and you move your hips back onto him, gasping slightly at the stretch. “Fuck.”

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Kihyun groans, and he starts to roll into you with steady thrusts that brush the head of his cock right over your g-spot. You push backwards, matching his rhythm, and he’s not wrong: it feels good.

But it’s not enough.

“Harder,” you groan, your voice muffled in the crook of your elbow, and you hear Kihyun grunt as he picks up the pace, hips snapping against your ass. Better, but somehow still not what you need.

“Please, Kihyun,” you encourage again. “Fuck me like a slut.”

“Jesus,” he breathes, and for a second, you wonder if you’ve finally broken him. But then his hand cracks over your ass, hard enough to take you by surprise, and he starts to thrust even faster.

“Is this what you want?” He asks, and his voice is tense, almost angry; something about it makes your walls start to flutter. Your orgasm is so frustratingly close, yet somehow beyond your grasp.

And then you hear that all-too familiar voice in your head. I want to make you come so hard that your legs shake. Before you can help it, you moan a little at the memory. The way Yoongi leveled his gaze on you as he spoke so calmly, in a way that had you believing every single word. You can feel your core starting to tighten at the very thought, and once your brain realizes that’s what will get you there, it’s like the fucking floodgates open.

“Oh fuck,” you groan, and you can hear him grunt in agreement, like he’s close, too.

You’re helpless to stop it now, too desperate to come. Yoongi’s voice, his face, his tongue, his hands, his cock. It’s all you can think of. You gasp as everything inside you tightens and starts to pulse.

“Shit, shit, I’m gonna come,” you whine. So hard that you have no choice but to scream my name as I wreck you, the voice in your head finishes, and you dig your nails into the desk beneath you as you reach your climax.

Your back arches, pleasure washing over you, and you cry out. “Yes, Yoongi, yes!”

There’s a moment where his hips stutter, and then he pushes all the way into you one last time with a grunt of effort as he comes, too. Your heartbeat starts to slow.

And then it occurs to you that the man fucking you is absolutely not named Yoongi, and you smack a hand over your mouth.

“Oh my god,” you say softly, voice muffled, and you remove your hand as you start to straighten up. You can hear Kihyun still breathing heavily behind you, but he’s otherwise silent as he releases his grip on your hips and slides out of you.

“Kihyun,” you turn to watch him cross the room to the en-suite bathroom, where he briefly disappears to dispose of the condom. Face burning with embarrassment, you awkwardly maneuver to readjust your underwear and pull your dress back down over your ass.

When he reappears in the doorway, you try again. “Kihyun, I am so sorry. I—I don’t—” you fumble for what to say, knowing full well you don’t have a good explanation. At least not one that doesn’t make you sound insane.

“It’s cool,” he says, but he’s clearly uncomfortable. “I mean, you know. Shit happens.”

You glance around nervously for your phone before realizing it’s back on the table in the entryway where you tossed it in the throes of passion. You shoot Kihyun a weak smile. “I should— let me call Jimin. I can get a ride home.”

Kihyun laughs dryly. “Yeah, I’m gonna take a wild guess that he might be a little busy. I can take you home. It’s not a big deal.”

As much as your pride wants to refuse, you don’t exactly have a backup plan. “I would really appreciate that,” you murmur.

The drive is silent and painfully awkward, Kihyun turning up the music just loud enough that you get the indication that he doesn’t want to talk. As the lights of the city stream by, you can’t help but wonder how everything got so fucked up.

When Kihyun pulls up to your apartment complex, you indicate where he can drop you off, and he reaches over you as the car slows to a stop to politely open the door.

“Have a good night,” he says firmly, and you can barely manage a word of thanks before you slip out of his car and head up the stairs to die of embarrassment.

Jimin shows up at your door late Sunday afternoon, a takeout bag of haejangguk tucked under one arm, gushing incessantly about the various ways Wonho threw him around all night. It feels like he babbles for an hour, until he finally takes a break to sip from his own container of soup, and prompts you with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Your turn. Was your mission successful?”

You keep your gaze firmly planted on the floor as you recount what happened.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

~*~

Jimin decides that you’ll try again next weekend, promising he’ll be less distracted. You’re not positive you’ll survive that long. You preemptively text Jungkook asking to take the week off from boxing class - your stomach is such a fucking bundle of nerves that you barely sleep at all Sunday night, and you know the next five days spent in constant fear of running into Yoongi is only going to make it worse.

Those same nerves creep up into your throat when you unlock the doors Monday morning, Jungkook waiting patiently behind you with his hands wrapped around the straps of his backpack.

Dread blooms inside of you as you move to place your purse on your desk, and then you make a split-second decision, spinning back to face Jungkook.

“Hey, JK?” The nickname is unplanned, just sort of comes out, but you see him visibly brighten. “Are there any open desks on your side of the office? I think I need a change of scenery.”

He nods, eyes wide. “Yeah! I’m actually all by myself right now. Sunye is on maternity leave for the rest of the month. You can use her desk.”

You gesture for him to lead the way and he does, heading past the break room and walking backwards down the hallway to keep talking to you. “Is there something wrong with your normal desk? We can always put in a work order.”

“Uh, no,” you scramble, trying to find a good excuse. “It can just be a little distracting, you know. People coming in and out all day. I’ve got a lot of stuff I need to be heads-down on this week.”

The excuse sounds flimsy and false to you, but he seems to buy it. “Yeah, makes sense! I’ll try not to distract you too much.”

He does a full 360-degree spin on his heels as you turn the corner at the end of the hall, and it’s enough to make you laugh softly despite yourself. There’s a small alcove with a desk pressed against either wall, and you don’t even have to ask which one is Jungkook’s. The standing desk is dotted with tell-tale signs of Baby Star Candy: an empty shaker cup, a mini tub of protein powder, several fidget toys tucked beneath his monitor. A small collage of polaroids is taped to the wall where you see him smiling with friends, throwing up a peace sign in nearly every single one.

Sunye’s desk is mostly empty, save for a few framed photos of her with her husband and two young kids. You drop your purse down and take a seat as Jungkook chucks his backpack under his desk, both of you reaching to retrieve your laptops.

Outlook hasn’t even loaded before he’s turned around and talking to you again. “So how was your weekend?”

You grimace reflexively at memories you’d rather forget, and Jungkook misinterprets the look. “Oh, sorry, no distractions. I’ll be quiet.”

“No, no,” you shake your head. “It’s not you. My weekend was fine. What about yours?”

He laughs, looking a little embarrassed. “I mean, honestly? I’m super addicted to this new mobile game that just came out. I feel like I blinked and lost two days.” He’s already reaching for his cellphone. “Want to see?” You roll your chair across to his side of the room as Jungkook leans over to show you the little island world he’s nearly 500 levels into. After a few minutes, he seems to remember himself.

“Shit, you specifically said you came here to focus. I’m sorry, I really will leave you alone now.”

You bite down on your bottom lip. “No, it’s okay, JK. I— honestly, I wasn’t being entirely truthful when I said that. I don’t mind the distraction at all, actually. It’s kind of complicated, but… it would be nice if I could hide out here for the foreseeable future.”

He looks at you, clearly surprised. “Of course. Whatever you need. Is everything okay?”

You wince a little, with no idea how to answer that question.

His voice drops. “Is it Suga?”

“It’s complicated.” You repeat with a sigh.

An unfamiliar emotion flashes in Jungkook’s eyes. You’ve never seen him angry before, but you’d guess this is what it looks like. “Hey, seriously, if he’s being aggressive with you, we should do something about it. Report it or something.”

You have to suppress the urge to laugh in his face. Like Yoongi being aggressive with you isn’t exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about for days.

“No, it’s not like that,” you reassure him. “I think we’re just two people who are better off kept apart from each other. That’s all.”

Jungkook nods slowly, and it’s clear from his expression that he wants to pry more, but is forcing himself not to. “Okay.”

There’s a heaviness of unasked and unanswered questions in the air, but the two of you manage to lapse into corporate smalltalk as you roll back over to your desk and dive into your workday.

Jungkook eventually has to peel off for a few virtual meetings, and watching him work is its own source of entertainment. If it’s a meeting that requires his focus, you can tell because he leans in close to his monitor, staring at spreadsheets or data visualizations with a look on his face like he’s using every single brain cell he owns.

You can also tell when he’s put on calls where he clearly isn’t needed, because he’ll spin in a full circle at his desk with a glazed over look in his eye. There are even a few times where you glance up to see him silently doing what you vaguely recognize as TikTok dances, and you have to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from outright laughing.

The day rolls on, and you’re neck deep in drafting a communication when Jungkook’s voice breaks your concentration. “Do you like ramyeon?”

Your head snaps up to see him lean down under his desk to grab his backpack. He unzips it to retrieve two containers of instant noodles, and when he offers one to you, you give an approving nod. “I usually bring two in case I get extra hungry. I’ll make it, come meet me in the break room when you finish what you’re doing.”

You genuinely believe him on the first day, but when he just so happens to bring a second lunch on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, you start to get a little suspicious.

Friday has you stuck on a working session straight through your usual lunch hour, and Jungkook disappears without a word, returning as you’re pulling your headset off with two to-go salads in a plastic bag.

“I ordered one, and they gave me two. Crazy, right?”

You quirk an eyebrow at him to signal that you don’t believe a damn word, but you still thank him as you follow him down the hall to the break room.

“You’re coming out tonight, right?” He asks over lunch, and it takes you a second to remember the planned happy hour your boss has scheduled for the office. You’re torn between never wanting to see the inside of a bar again, and the overwhelming desire to drink as much as you can on the company’s dime. Ideally enough to obliterate the brain cells that store your memories of last weekend.

In the end, your cheapness wins out. Plus, given that it’s a social work event, you’d bet your entire salary that Yoongi will be nowhere to be found. You figure it might actually prove to be a good distraction. “Sure, yeah. At least for a couple drinks.”

“Cool,” Jungkook smiles a little as he spears a piece of chicken on his plastic fork. “Let me know when you’re done for the day, we can head over together.”

As much as you’d like to blow off early, a phone call that was supposed to take fifteen minutes ends up lasting over an hour. You mute your headset briefly to give a loud sigh, and shoot Jungkook a silent pout in apology when he meets your gaze, but he just flips his phone around to show you the progress he’s making on his island. At least he’s good at keeping himself entertained, you think with a smile.

Finally the person leading the call seems to come to the extremely delayed realization that no one is going to make any more progress on the issue after 5 PM on a Friday, and things wrap up pretty quickly after that. You and Jungkook gather your things and head for the front, and the office is a ghost town.

Your eyes drift down the opposite hallway towards the Genius Lab, your pulse quickening a little. You’ve checked the lab every evening this week and have luckily only found it empty, but you’re nearly an hour ahead of schedule today. And you don’t exactly have a great track record with Yoongi when it comes to Fridays.

“I should probably…”

“I can do it,” Jungkook cuts in softly. You’re hit with the automatic urge to say no, to shield him from this chaos in any way you can. But it would be really nice to not have to deal with Yoongi for one fucking day.

“I would appreciate that,” you reply, and Jungkook is already striding down the hall. You pretend to busy yourself on your phone as you hear a knock, then the electronic beeps of him punching the code into the door lock. When you glance up, you see him push the door open and stick his head inside, then promptly close it again.

“He’s gone. Let’s get out of here.”

The bar your boss has chosen is only a few blocks away from the office, and Jungkook holds the door open for you to enter first when you arrive. You don’t see your group right when you first walk in, and you have to round a bend in the layout of the building before you spot the long table of familiar faces.

You move to take a step forward, but Jungkook nearly imperceptibly brings a hand to your elbow to stop you. He says nothing, which is unlike him, and you start to ask a question.

“Wh—” the words die in your mouth when you see Yoongi smiling politely into a glass of whiskey, seated at the table next to your boss. His gaze flickers up to meet yours. Your stomach twists as you watch the smile immediately drop off his face.

“We can go,” Jungkook says quickly, but you know you can’t give him the satisfaction.

“It’s fine,” you say, and it comes out a little more harsh than you mean it to. “We don’t have to sit near him.” Jungkook follows your lead to the opposite end of the table. When you take your seats, he almost immediately gets sucked into a conversation with some of the audio engineers. You do your best to at least act like you’re following along, but it feels like the room is spinning despite the fact that you’re entirely sober.

That absolutely needs to change, you quickly determine. You’re sitting at the corner of the table, so it’s easy enough to slip out and get to your feet. Jungkook glances up when you do.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, and your tone must be direct enough that he doesn’t ask any follow-up questions or offer his company. Which is fine, you think to yourself as you cross the room. You’re perfectly capable of walking to the bar and ordering a drink on your own.

At least it feels that way until you sweep your gaze across the room, waiting on a bartender to acknowledge your presence, and realize Yoongi is headed straight towards you, empty glass in hand.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You set your jaw, determined not to let him smell your fear, and renew your conviction to flag someone down and get a drink as fast as possible. When Yoongi takes a seat at the barstool next to you, you will your face not to react. But you’re not quite fast enough to remember to tell your mouth to stay shut, too.

“What are you doing here?” You snap, refusing to look him in the eye.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says, voice even, and you blink hard. You don’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that. “I figured an event with free alcohol was a good place to start. Let’s hope no one wore their good shoes tonight.”

Setting your jaw has turned into fully gritting your teeth, and you’ve never been more grateful to see a bartender when one approaches. You order quickly, and see Yoongi silently lift his empty glass as a request in your periphery.

“What do you want, Yoongi?”

When he hums and doesn’t respond right away, you glance over to see him running a finger around the rim of his finished drink. Just his fucking hand is enough to send a shiver up your spine, and you tear your gaze away.

“Well, for one, I honestly have to say I was surprised when HR didn’t personally escort me out of the building Monday morning.”

Your head snaps up to look at him again as you parse out his meaning. “Really?”

Yoongi’s gaze meets yours, his brows slightly pinching together as if he’s surprised that you’re surprised. “Uh, yeah.”

You’re so shocked it takes you a minute to form words. “I— I mean, it’s not like it was unprovoked.”

He makes a face as if he’s considering it, shrugging a little. “I suppose.”

As you drop your gaze to the wood grain of the bar, you can’t help but wonder if that was meant to be an apology. You barely have time to process that thought before the bartender returns, setting your drinks down, and you reach for yours like a woman dehydrated. When you take a sip, it’s strong— exactly what you need in this moment.

You’re already halfway off the barstool, very ready to get back to your seat at the table, when Yoongi speaks up again.

“Do you want to hear a funny story?” Something in his tone makes you pause, and he keeps going.

“I heard from an old friend a few days ago. We used to be really close, but lately I don’t think we’ve talked in…” He shakes his head in disbelief, like he’s trying to think. “God, probably years. I’ve been so focused on work. You know how I get.”

You physically recoil at his strange candor, how comfortable he suddenly is with implying that you know him. Your stomach is already starting to turn, though you can’t put a finger on why. It just feels like he’s playing with you.

Yoongi rolls his glass between his palms as he continues. ��So you know, we catch up, ask how life is going, all the usual shit. And then my friend— Kihyun, that’s his name— Kih starts telling me about this crazy hookup he had last weekend.”

You nearly drop your drink as your blood runs cold. Yoongi continues the charade, pretending like he’s telling you something you don’t already know first-hand.

“He said he got approached by this super hot girl out of nowhere, and that she was fucking desperate for it. Barely said two words to him before she was asking him to take her home. And once he did, he said the sex was wild. I mean, it definitely sounded great to me when he gave me the play-by-play.” He pauses for a moment, and when he speaks again, there’s a new tone to his voice, almost aggressive. “Straight out of one of my own fantasies, really.”

You take a nervous gulp of your drink in hopes that it might help cool down your burning face— whether it’s from shame or rage, you can’t tell.

“And get this.” Yoongi’s voice is grave now, all pretense of telling a funny story gone as he turns to fully face you. “You’re never gonna believe whose name she cried out when she came. Because it sure wasn’t Kih’s.”

The shock of his words, at the fact that he knows this, is enough to freeze you where you stand. You’re nearly shaking with the chaotic storm of emotions swirling in your brain, and it takes every ounce of willpower you can muster to keep your voice steady as you fix him in your gaze. “I don’t see that it’s any of your business who or how I fuck, Yoongi.”

“Oh, I think it’s absolutely my business when you’re calling them my fucking name. And I don’t understand why you’d settle for imitation when you could have the real thing.” Despite how livid you are, you don’t miss the way your pussy flutters at the smug look on his face.

“Maybe it’s because your friend doesn’t come with all the strings attached that you do.”

“Strings?” He quirks an eyebrow. “I wasn’t planning on dating you, sweetheart.”

You can’t believe how dense he is, and you slam your drink down on the bar. “No, Yoongi, but you’re my fucking coworker. Have you ever heard the phrase, ‘don’t shit where you eat’?” He chuckles dryly into the rim of his glass. “It’s a bad fucking idea.”

He examines you as he takes a sip of whiskey, then finally speaks again. “Here’s the way I see it. We are both sane, consenting adults, very capable of being rational about this.” You scoff in disbelief at how calmly he can say such a thing as you take another long pull from your drink. “There’s obviously a lot of pent-up feelings going on. I’m not saying we have to be friends. Hell, we don’t even have to like each other. Sometimes it’s more fun when you don’t.”

Not expecting that commentary, you nearly choke on the ice in your glass. Yoongi gives you a moment to recover before continuing.

“It seems to me like we could establish something that would be mutually beneficial. Get some of that energy out. If anything, I think it might help both of us actually focus on our work, and that would in turn benefit everyone. It’d certainly be a lot better than the two of us running around like a couple of horny teenagers the way we have been lately. It’s not a purely selfish thing.”

You hate that his stupid logical argument makes sense to you. You hate it so much that you finish your drink in one swallow.

“Look, I’ll make it easy for you,” he says, eyes locked on you, his voice dropping into a lower register. The tone immediately takes you back to the last time you were in his lab. The things he said to you. The things he wanted to do to you. Heat pools in your belly before you can tell it not to.

“I’m going to head back to the group. You get yourself another drink, come join us, and take some time to think about it.”

He leans in to speak the next part directly into your ear, his voice quiet. Every nerve ending in your body lights up at the feeling of his breath against your neck. “Then I’m going to get up and go to the restroom. I’ll give you three minutes to discreetly excuse yourself and join me. If you don’t show, I’ll drop all of this and leave you alone. Promise.”

Yoongi pulls away, shooting you that trademark smirk, knowing full well that he doesn’t have to explain what will happen if you do decide to join him. He already has. Then he slips off the barstool, glass of whiskey in hand, and strides back towards the table.

When you order the next round, you ask for a double.

You do your best to act like the world isn’t ending as you return to your seat at the table. The conversation continues around you, without you; you can only stare dumbly at the empty space between two of your coworkers as you take a long swig of your drink. You’re vaguely aware of discussions of upcoming mixtapes and the Grammy’s, but your brain can’t process anything over the roaring in your ears, the pounding of your heartbeat in your gut— and a little lower.

You feel insane, enraged, and deliriously aroused.

You have no concept of how quickly time is passing, no clue if it’s been an instant or an hour when you see movement from the other end of the table out of the corner of your eye. There’s no self-control left in your system to keep your jaw from going slack, to keep you from unabashedly watching as Yoongi gets up from the table and strides confidently across the bar toward the restroom. He doesn’t so much as glance in your direction.

“Are you alright?”

You whip around at Jungkook’s voice, having completely forgotten there was anyone else in the room. It takes a second for you to snap your mouth shut, and then you realize you have to open it to answer his question.

“I— uh—” You can barely string a sentence together. “My drink is really strong.”

“Do you need some water?”

When you nod, he’s up in a flash, heading towards the bar, and you realize as you watch him disappear that it might have been a bad idea to let yourself be left alone. Because now you have no distraction from the way every cell in your body is screaming at you.

It’s obvious that there is a right choice and a wrong choice here. And you’ve tried so hard, for so long, to be smart. To deny the truth, to say no and go home, to channel the energy out in any other way. But none of it has worked. You still want this terrible man to do terrible things to you, maybe now more than ever. And you’re so fucking tired of making the right choice.

So tonight, you resolve with a final sip of your drink, you’ll make the wrong one. Fuck it.

You slip away from the table before Jungkook returns, following the same path Yoongi did towards the back of the bar. When you reach for the handle of the restroom door, your pulse is racing, enough that you nearly jump out of your skin when the door swings open before you can even touch it. You glance up to find yourself face-to-face with an equally shocked looking Yoongi.

“Your three minutes are up,” he says dryly. Rather than bother with a response, you bring your hand to his chest and firmly shove him back inside the single stall room. You hear him laugh a little as you follow after, pulling the knob and turning the lock into place behind you.

When he takes a step toward you, there’s nowhere for you to go except flush against the door. You watch his eyes drop down your body and back up, taking his time, shameless. His gaze lingers on your mouth.

“Didn’t think you’d really do it,” he murmurs, eyes glinting.

“Call it a lapse in judgment.”

There’s something about the situation that makes you feel like Yoongi has the upper hand— like he expects every part of this to go according to his plan. That, you decide, simply will not do. And then you drop to your knees in front of him.

“Oh my god,” Yoongi breathes, taking a small step back to give you room. “You’re a whore.”

You do your best to shoot a death glare up at him. “I don’t have to do this.”

He smirks. “I meant it as a compliment, honestly. Respectfully.”

That’s it. You’re determined to suck that smug fucking look off his face. “Hands to yourself,” you say firmly. “If you touch me, this all ends.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen, as if he wasn’t expecting you to be giving any orders. But then he nods, raising both hands in the air as if to indicate compliance. You lower your gaze and realize he’s already straining against the fabric of his joggers, which do nothing to hide how hard he is, the thin material clinging to every inch.

In one swift motion, you tug both his pants and boxers down his hips, and you have to actively suppress a soft sigh of appreciation. Yoongi’s ego doesn’t need any more feeding, but damn, his dick is even better up close: long, pale, and pretty.

Glancing back up at him, you maintain eye contact as you lean forward to teasingly trace your tongue along one of the prominent veins that runs the length of his shaft. His eyes are dark with lust as he watches you. Despite being on your knees, a thrill of sheer power runs through you when you see him swallow hard, his Adam’s apple jerking in his throat.

It occurs to you that you are extremely ready to torture this man.

When you reach the tip, you just barely slide your lips over it in an open-mouthed kiss to the head of his cock, your tongue swirling in sloppy circles. You can hear Yoongi breathing now, clearly trying and failing to suppress his shaky exhales at your work.

Tilting your head to find the right angle, you take more of him into your mouth, then bring a hand to his shaft to guide the head of his dick to one side. You don’t miss the quiet groan you elicit from him as you let him press against the soft wall of your cheek to create a bulge. He makes the same sound again, louder, when you rub your tongue firmly along the underside of his shaft while you do it.

His hips jerk under your touch as you start to move the hand wrapped around him in slow, deliberate strokes. You recenter him in your mouth and bob your head along his length in time, now sucking firmly. Yoongi’s breath catches on a moan as you keep your tongue pressed tight to his shaft and match the movement of your head to the deliciously slow pace of your hand.

The sound only encourages you, and you lean forward to take even more of him until his cock briefly brushes against the back of your throat. You hold him there for a second, then swallow.

“Fuck,” Yoongi hisses. You can feel him twitch a little in your mouth, taste it as he leaks precum onto your tongue. You tip back for a few more shallow thrusts, just tormenting him, then repeat the action, humming this time as he hits your throat. His knees nearly buckle.

You glance up at Yoongi as you pull back again, lashes fluttering, and you have to keep yourself from laughing around his cock at the look of pure distress on his face. Now that you’re watching him, you realize his hands are flexing desperately at his sides— it’s clearly taking everything in his power to follow your no touching policy.

Good, you think, and then you lean forward to swallow him down and keep him there, taking as much as you can until your nose is nearly flush with his pelvis. You bob your head, guiding him up and down your throat, choking slightly but too determined to stop even as your eyes start to water.

“Oh my god,” you hear him groan, and your eyebrows raise at the sound of a loud smack. When you look up, still working him in your throat, you realize that he’s helplessly banged a fist on the bathroom door and is now bracing himself against it. You watch as he rakes his other hand through his hair, his head tipping back with a gasp as you increase your pace in response. His hips shudder as he starts to buck softly into your mouth. “Y-yeah, keep doing that, oh fuck, fuck—”

At what feels like the last possible second, you pull off his cock with a soft, wet pop, swallowing down the precum in your mouth. You wipe at the corners of your lips before getting to your feet, legs shaking a little more than you’d like from how long you’ve been on your knees. As you meet his gaze, now at eye-level, it seems you’ve certainly achieved your mission: Yoongi’s usual smug appearance has been replaced with a look of frustrated desperation, courtesy of one denied orgasm.

“Why should I let you get off that easy?” You ask simply, and he makes a noise low in his throat, something between a groan and a laugh.

“Fuck, you are such a bitch.” He advances towards you, and you find yourself backing up, this time until your ass is pressed against the countertop of the bathroom sink. He’s staring at your mouth again, looking at it with what seems to be a little more reverence now that he knows what it’s capable of.

“Am I allowed to touch you yet?” His voice is so low, his mouth so close to yours, that it makes your core ache. The noises you sucked out of him have unfortunately only turned you on even more. “Or are you going to make me beg?”

As much as you’d love to see that, the desperate throb that’s been steadily building between your legs has now overtaken your desire to tease. “Yes, Yoongi, you can touch me.”

The words have barely left your mouth and his hands are already on your hips, firmly spinning you around. You have to clutch the edge of the countertop just to stay upright, but you only feel yourself getting that much wetter at the rough way he handles you. You shiver as he shoves the hem of your dress up to expose your ass, and you can’t help yourself, leaning forward to give him the best possible angle, too desperate for anything less.

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathes, and you’d swear he almost sounds appreciative.

You don’t even have time to process that thought before his hand cracks down over your ass, so hard that it nearly knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You inhale a shaky gasp, your mind reeling in its attempt to catch up, but Yoongi is already pulling your panties to the side, perfect fingers sliding between your folds. There’s no hiding how drenched you are; your upper thighs are starting to stick together with arousal.

Without warning, he presses two fingers firmly into you, and it’s enough to make your jaw go slack. You outright moan when they find purchase against your g-spot, rubbing in tight, expert circles. He could make you come right now if he wanted to.

“You’re so wet for me,” Yoongi’s voice is low and smug, and you don’t need to see his expression to know that cocky smirk has returned to his face. “Been ready for it all night, huh?” You whimper a noise that isn’t disagreement.

“Good,” he says firmly, pairing the word with another smack to your ass. You’re too far gone to try and hold it back now, not with the way his fingers are working inside you, and you moan again. “Because we can’t take too long,” Yoongi continues. “Don’t want anyone getting suspicious. Which is really a damn shame, because there’s so much I want to do to you.”

When he smacks your ass one more time, even harder, and couples it with an insistent press of his fingers against your front wall, you have to grip the edge of the sink for dear life. Your cunt squeezes around him; the noise you make is practically a sob.

He huffs a laugh as he withdraws his fingers, and you glance up to see him retrieving a condom from his pocket and tearing it open. “Wrecked already? And I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

You try to compose yourself, but just watching the way his hands work as he rolls the condom over his leaking cock has you aching, clenching around nothing. You really are fucking wrecked— nothing has ever come close to this.

Yoongi’s hands come to your hips, pads of his fingers digging into your skin, and you feel the head of his cock against your entrance, sliding lazily through your folds but purposefully not pressing into you.

“Yoongi,” you whine. You’re too far gone for this teasing.

“You have to tell me what you want,” he says, his voice dark.

You can barely even think a sentence, and you try to push back on him instead, but he keeps you held firmly in place, hands squeezing into the flesh of your hips. “Tell me,” he insists.

“I want you to fuck me,” you manage, and you look up to meet his gaze in the bathroom mirror.

He licks his lips, and you realize that he’s having just as hard a time restraining himself. “That much is obvious,” he says, and you can hear the unsteadiness in his voice now. “How would you like to get fucked?”

You’ve had enough alcohol to brazenly tell the truth. “Like you hate me.”

It may be the first genuine smile of his you’ve ever seen.

“Gladly,” he replies, and then he thrusts all of himself into you at once. You collapse forward on the countertop, crying out at the feeling.

“Yeah,” Yoongi grunts, a little breathless. “You like that?” He pulls nearly all the way out and slams into you one more time, pressing his hips flush with your ass until you feel overwhelmingly full. Then he starts to properly thrust, moving at a pace that can only be described as ruthless.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp, your head dropping down as you scramble to brace yourself against the counter. You practically yelp when his hand cracks over your ass again.

He leans forward; you can feel his chest graze over your back, his hips still snapping into you as he grabs your jaw with one hand and forces your gaze up to look at him in the mirror again. You watch as he runs two fingers along your bottom lip in an unasked question. You let your jaw go slack to allow him to slip into your mouth.

When your lips close around his fingers, you find yourself a little grateful to have something to keep you grounded to reality. Your eyes flit up to Yoongi’s face, and his gaze is piercing, eyes totally fixed on you.

“You look so good like this.” His voice is hoarse, strained from effort, and he continues to drive into you, never slowing. Your own hip bones dig into the bathroom counter, shocks of pleasure-pain rippling through you with each thrust. Little moans and whimpers spill out from your mouth around his fingers at the sensation, and you can feel your climax starting to build.

Yoongi withdraws from your mouth, that same hand moving down your body to slip into your panties and circle your clit, earning a gasp from you. His other hand keeps a death grip on your hip as he thrusts, and he straightens up again, the head of his cock now rubbing so perfectly over your g-spot that you hiss.

“Did Kihyun fuck you like this?”

The question catches you off-guard. “N-no,” you gasp, and the hot coil of your arousal tightens in your core. Yoongi’s cock stroking into you, his hand working your clit, the feeling is overwhelming, dizzying. “Oh, god.” Your head presses into your forearm as you give yourself over to the pleasure. You can only distantly hear Yoongi’s voice continue, somewhere between coaxing and demanding.

“I didn’t fucking think so. So why don’t you say it? Tell me who fucks you right. Tell me who you fucking hate.”

The fingers on your clit are unrelenting now, and your edge approaches fast and hard.

“Y-Yoongi,” you breathe, and it feels too good to say his name and mean it. “Yoongi, fuck, Yoongi.” A loud moan rips through you as your legs start to shake. “Oh fuck,” you gasp, “I’m coming, fuck, yes—” You nearly sob as your climax hits you hard, and your walls flutter around Yoongi’s cock over and over in what feels like an endless orgasm.

The pleasure rolls through you, and you look up in the mirror to see Yoongi grit his teeth as he picks up the pace of his hips. A look of desperation paints his face, not unlike the way he looked when you were blowing him, and you know he must be close.

“God fucking damnit,” he grunts, each word punctuated with a thrust, and then he tips his head back and pushes all the way into you with a moan as he comes.

For a moment he pauses like that, gazing up at the ceiling, chest heaving with effort as his dick twitches inside of you. “Holy shit,” he breathes, and then he starts to laugh softly in what appears to be disbelief. “Fuuuuck.”

You haven’t fully recovered, so you can only watch, still gripping the countertop for dear life, as he slips the condom off, chucks it into the trash can, and pulls his boxers and pants up. He gives his reflection a once-over in the mirror, running a hand through his hair, and you’re amazed at how quickly he’s put himself back together. The only indication that he was literally just railing you is the way he’s breathing heavily.

Yoongi notices you watching him and gives your ass one more firm slap, hard enough that you flinch a little.

“Wait a minute or two before you head out,” he instructs, and you nod dumbly. He crosses the room, opens the door, and slips out, all before you can even so much as think a coherent thought.

It takes several more minutes for you to get your shit together, but you eventually manage to readjust your underwear and smooth your dress down, though your legs are certainly still unsteady when you make your way back to the table. You can’t help but shoot a glance over at Yoongi as you pass, and you’re shocked to see him laughing and chatting it up with the group of coworkers seated around him. You see clear expressions of surprise on their faces, too— because he’s never like this. Except, apparently, mere minutes after fucking you.

You don’t even bother to sit down, instead grabbing your purse off the table and slinging the straps over your shoulder.

“Wow, there you are,” Jungkook’s voice drags you out of your thoughts, and the look of concern on his face just makes your stomach turn. You genuinely have no idea how long you were gone for. “Are you okay? Your face looks flushed.”

You don’t know how to answer his question, so you don't. “I think I’m gonna go home.”

“Do you need a ride?”

You shake your head quickly. “I’ll call a friend.”

Perched on the curb outside, you clutch your phone for dear life as you pull up Jimin’s contact to call him. The line rings and you realize you’re shivering; you don’t think it has anything to do with the weather.

You don’t even give him a chance to say hello when the call connects. “Can you come get me?”

He groans on the other end of the line. “Why? I already took my pants off for the night.”

“Baby mochi, please.” You whine, but you know only the full explanation will get him out of bed. You drop your voice a little. “I just hatefucked Suga in the bathroom at the company happy hour. I need you to come pick me up immediately.”

Jimin’s apartment is a ten minute drive away, but you swear he makes it in five.

“Well, well, well,” Your best friend’s voice is smug as you slide into his passenger seat. “If it isn’t the company whore.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jimin.”

~*~

Come Monday morning, you’re racing down the hallway to the conference room, quietly cursing yourself for being late. You’d seen the email from your boss moving the usual Tuesday pull-up to first-thing Monday, but then you’d gotten so tied up with other projects you’d forgotten about it entirely. It was only once you were in the break room, trying to get your caffeine fix in, that you’d glanced up at the wall clock and realized it was already ten after.

Focused as you are on getting to the meeting quickly— and just as importantly, not spilling any of your coffee— you’re completely unaware of your surroundings until it’s too late. You nearly smack directly into Yoongi as you approach the conference room simultaneously.

He smirks as you jump back in surprise. “We have got to stop meeting like this.”

It’s the first time you’ve seen him since Friday; you’ve been hiding out in Baby Star Candy’s corner all morning. “We’re late,” you say, flustered enough to state the obvious, and he shrugs like he can’t disagree.

“I got distracted.”

Yoongi must notice the way your eyes start to widen. “With work,” he clarifies quickly. He reaches around you to place a hand on the conference room door, and you hear his voice low in your ear. “Amazing how much easier it is to focus today, huh?”

Straightening up to put some space between you, he pushes the door open and gestures for you to go first. You swallow hard and try to keep your composure as you enter the room, briefly apologizing for being late. Yoongi follows behind you silently, slumping into the open seat across the table. You take a sip of your coffee to settle your nerves, which turns out to be a horrible idea when your boss speaks.

“There they are, perfect timing. You’re the very two people my next announcement concerns.”

You just barely manage to keep your drink in your mouth. When your gaze flits to Yoongi across from you, he looks similarly shell-shocked. You can’t help but wonder if you’re about to get fired in front of the entire team.

“We’ve managed to secure funding for the Grammy’s at the end of the month,” your boss says brightly. “We’ll be flying Suga out to do a press circuit as well as attend the award show and surrounding events in-person. We think it will be a great opportunity to network with American artists, try to get his name out there and work on our international appeal.”

“And of course,” your boss’ gaze lands on you, “we all know that our Suga isn’t the most extroverted, or good with schedules, for that matter. We figured he needs a wrangler, and who better than our very own admin?”

You swear your heart stops beating. Your boss keeps going, reminding the team to connect with you about temporarily taking back any deliverables you’ve been handling while you’ll be out of pocket for Grammy’s weekend and subsequent travel time, but you barely process a word. This can’t be happening.

An entire weekend of forced professionalism, in Los Angeles, with the man you just hatefucked in a bathroom. What could possibly go wrong?

chapter four | masterlist | chapter six

#yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #look down on me like that

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