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chanluster · 4 years

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business proposals | {m}

oneshot | ceo! au | 10.9k words

“It was about time you addressed the cat and mouse game you and your boss have been playing for a time.”

s u m m a r y > > clashing heads with your annoyingly attractive boss was your everyday activity, but when a new, beautiful client comes in for the day you find yourself getting jealous. mr. lee, catching on, uses it to his absolute advantage, causing you to end up in a situation you did not think would end well. fortunately for you, with the way your dark-minded ceo’s mind worked, despite the hiccups in the middle, it ended just perfectly.

w a r n i n g s > > ceo! minho, secretary! reader, you get so annoyed at him all the time, he annoys you all the time, constant teasing, a fuckload of swearing, soooo much (kinda shit) sexual tension, flirtation back and FORTH, titles of endearment, minho is such a fucking dom, reader is a fucking BRAT, making out, fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving) you try to give him blueballs, unprotected sex (stay safe homies!!), semi-public sex (i mean they do it in his office so like), multiple orgasms, y’all be arguing during it all too HELP, minho has a sir kink sjsjskke, minho is so AGGRESSIVE HOLY SHIT, SO MUCH degradation, use of gags? (i mean he uses his tie so) basically you are 100% minho’s bitch by the end period!!

a u t h o r ’ s n o t e > > hello horny fia is back again with a minho oneshot because she can not control herself!!!1!1! thank you @hyuckworld for so much inspo and helping me out omfg the tie thing still on my mind !1!1! anyway this is inspired by minho’s soribada look cause he mf SERVED! and i hope y’all enjoy !

back to masterlist

YOUR SMILE WAS MORE LIKE A FLASH OF TEETH.

“For the last time,” you seethed, trying your very best to contain your bubbling temper, “You cannot see him if you don’t have an appointment.”

The woman before you, a striking image of curls and curves, fitted red dress, white blazer, and Louboutins elevating her height, knifed you with finely-lined eyes. “But I don’t need an appointment! Mr. Lee said so himself I could arrive at his office when I wished to speak with him!”

You pursed your lips. Of course Mr. Fucking Lee said so.

“Well, there’s nothing I can do about it, Miss Kim.” You turned to your computer, opening up the list of clients intended to meet your boss this afternoon. Sure enough, this woman’s name was not accompanied with the others. Once again, he had said some pretty words, but had not reminded you of them so you could write it down for official backing.

You could not help typing a little furiously. It was like he was trying to make your life harder.

“I demand to see him!” Miss Kim exclaimed, raising her voice so the other employees, who were scattered before you at their desks, working away, paused, witnessing the commotion. “I did not travel from another city to be rejected!”

“Ma’am,” you guttered, hands on the telephone, ready to call security, when the misty, glass-like door beside you swung upon.

A firm, sultry voice resonated in the room.

“What is the meaning of this noise?”

Out stepped the one man you were hoping would stay seated in his office.

You turned around in your seat, looking up at the suited figure of Lee Minho — CEO of the corporation you worked under, and the mastermind behind the technological revolution in your city.

He certainly looked the part: black suit unbuttoned with his tie hanging, white shirt contrasting the colours. His trousers hugged his thighs a little too tightly for your own good, designer branded shoes adorning his feet. His dark brown locks were cascading over his forehead, and his calculating eyes assessed the room, finding the reason for such noise behind his doors.

His gaze settled on the woman. “Ah, Miss Kim!” He declared, a known dazzling smile upon his lips. “It’s good you’ve arrived.”

“Of course I would come,” she said, darting her glare back to you. “This little assistant of yours was ready to throw me out of the building.”

A slight tilt of his head. “Oh, really?”

Then, his eyes descended on you, seated before him, and you noticed something already stirring behind them. “And why was this ‘little assistant of mine’ booting you out of here?”

You pointed to your computer. “She’s not on your list of appointments for today.”

“So?” A glance at the woman. “When a pretty lady asks to see me, you oblige her, understand?”

Seething, you lock your hands together. “Then what is the point of the list when you won’t follow it?”

You nearly gasped in anger when you caught slight mischief in his eyes. “Keeping you on your toes, ____.”

“As always,” you hissed, returning his malicious smirk with a scowl.

He only chuckled at your lack of amusement, turning to the woman once more. “Miss Kim,” he addressed her, opening the door, gesturing for her to enter. “Come inside.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lee,” she simpered out, widening her sharp grin at you before going inside his office.

The man stood, regarding you for a minute. You glanced at him, frown still there. “Yes?”

“I am not to be disturbed,” he said, gaze a little too intense for your liking. “Is that understood?”

You made sure to match his stare. “Yes, sir.”

And you could have sworn his lips twitched upward when he turned to his office, entering after the woman.

When the door slid shut, you let out a shuddering breath.

Why in hell were you holding your breath?

“God,” you muttered, furiously typing away on your computer, noticing another presence approaching you. “He’s going to be the death of me.”

“Do not tell me you’re talking about Mr. Lee here.”

You looked up, and rolled your eyes to find Kim Seungmin, one of the salesmen for the firm, standing before you, files in hand and a knowing smile on his lips. “I am, as a matter of fact,” you said. “And how much I want to kill him.”

The man gave you a look. “Now see, I don’t think ‘kill’ was the word I thought you’d use.”

“Oh yeah?” You crossed your arms. “Then what word do you think I’d use?”

“I don’t know, like…” his adorable smile was so unlike his words. “Kiss? Fuck even?”

You let out a harsh gasp, nearly whacking his arm with your scattered files. “Oh my God!”

“You can’t deny it, ____!” Seungmin pointed to the door. “You have a massive crush on him!”

“How can you even say that!” you demanded, pulling you near him so the others around you did not hear. “I hate that cocky bastard.”

Your friend clicked his tongue at your statement. “Then can you please explain to me why you both got enough sexual tension to suffocate the entire building?”

“We do not,” you refused instantly, picking up your mug of coffee. “You’re mistaking my bloodlust with just lust.”

“Can you at least stop pretending to me that you don’t want to suck his dick?”

Nearly choking on your coffee, you struggled it down, sending a sharp glare. “I don’t!” you raised your chin. “I bet it’s tiny anyway. Wouldn't have anything for me to suck on.”

Now that, of all the things you said that afternoon, was a complete, full blown, almost offensive, lie.

Not that you’ve caught a glimpse at the package which settled between Lee Minho’s legs. Well, you had, to your own shame, and were burning at the clothed sight, proving your little claim extremely incorrect. Your boss, devastatingly, had something substantial going for him.

Seungmin’s little laugh had you dropping down to reality. “You were thinking about his cock just now, weren’t you?”

Cheeks burning, you waved him off, groaning as you went back to your computer. Minho’s appointments looked oh so interesting. “Fuck off, Min.”

His laughter only deepened as he stepped away. “There’s no hope for you, girl. You keep daydreaming about that.”

If it weren’t for the people around you, you would have happily sent him away with a middle finger, but figured you should hang onto any scrap of professionalism left in you. The only thing you could do now was write up the new appointments for next week. Or perhaps play some Solitaire.

Anything to stop you thinking about him.

You twisted your lips into a scowl.

This was so unbelievable. Lee Minho was the greatest, most notorious asshole you knew of, yet here you were, like an absolute moron, pondering over him as if he was a lost love. All the time, when it was in meetings, or just bumping each other in the office breakroom, he managed to piss you off without effort, watching you enraged with a disgustingly ravishing smile on his revoltingly beautiful face. It was so, goddamn unfair, that he could rile you up so easily when all you could do was make him more amused.

To hell with him and his fine ass, you thought as you closed all tabs, opening up Solitaire.

Just as you thought you found a moment’s peace in this building, you heard the phone ring drastically loud, stopping you from completing a full set of one deck. Already irritated, you tried to suppress it as you picked up the handset, pressing it to your ear. “Minho and Company?”

The voice that greeted your ears made it incredibly hard to reign in your irritation. “Have you finished the list?”

“No,” was your clipped reply. You focused on the game, matching the cards to the deck of hearts.

“And when will this list finish?”

“I’m a busy woman, you know,” you drawled, aggressively clicking on your mouse. “You give me so much work it’s hard to keep up.”

“Oh, really?” Fuck him, you could hear the taunting in his voice. “So you don’t spend all day playing those stupid Windows games on your work computer?”

Your anger paused, eyes widening. The lack of response had the man cackling through the phone. “I bet you’re on that same card game you always play when you’re trying to avoid my tasks. What was the name again?”

“I can assure you, sir, I am not playing Solitaire.” You then sucked in an agitated breath at your mistake.

“Ah, that’s right.” You hated how you could hear the smirk playing on his lips. “Playing Solitaire and ignoring my work.”

Were you mistaken, or had his voice descended an octave? With the way you bit your lip, you knew you were caught anyway. “I’ll get the list done.”

“Mmm,” he got out, the low baritone still there. “And address me properly when you talk to me.”

Oh my God. “I’ll get the damned list done, sir.”

A small pause. “Good girl.”

And the line cut off.

Your hand nearly went limp holding the phone.

Good girl.

“Shut the fuck up,” you muttered, slamming the handset back in its place, feeling yourself heat up a frightening rate. “Cocky prick.”

All those curses towards him, and yet your cheeks still burned.

You did not cease your profanity — this time aiming more towards your own self.

Dear Lord. You really were in for it this time.

MINHO AND MISS KIM WERE STILL IN THAT ROOM BY THE TIME YOU HAD TO LEAVE THE OFFICE.

You decided to stay a little longer, finishing up the last of the tasks he’d assigned to you, and an hour later, when Seungmin passed your desk to exit the building, he darted his eyes to his boss’ door and wiggled his brows your way.

“Shut up,” you snapped at him, earning a cheeky smile.

“I wonder what they’re doing in there,” he thought out loud, propping a hand on your table.

You typed away, trying to dismiss the worst assumptions in your mind. “I don’t particularly care.”

Seungmin, damn him, could see right through you. “Then why are you still here? Pretending that I didn’t catch you with your ear to the door hours before?”

Unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. About three hours into the meeting, you became so restless you tried to listen in on what exactly was going on. It sounded so bizarre, when Minho had to sit in hours-long meetings every other day, but him alone in his office with that girl didn’t settle well with you.

“Oh, jealousy!” Seungmin chanted, pointing at your face. “Is that you I see before me?”

“Go away!” you waved him off, glowering at him. “I’m not jealous of some girl I saw today. Her and Minho can do whatever they want.”

“Whatever you say, ____,” he said, but the knowing smile lingered, aggravating you even more. “Good night.”

“Good night, Min,” you muttered, waiting for the man to turn out of the building before swinging in your chair.

The door welcomed you still.

You bit the inside of your cheek. Now see, you should not be letting your mind wander. Especially in situations which included your boss, another girl, and closed doors. Your gut twisted at the thought, and you were surprised at such a reaction.

What if Seungmin was right?

“No!” you whispered furiously to yourself, turning back to your computer. “Not jealous, just curious.”

Yes, that’s right. Just interested to know what the fuck they’re talking so long for.

“Oh God,” you breathed out, pressing your legs together. Maybe your friend was right. “Shit.”

Suddenly, you got up from your seat, picking up any scrap of paper and hurrying to the door. Pressing your ear to the misted glass, fingers clasping the metal handle. You could hear soft murmurs, a little laughter, but other than that, you failed to hear anything coherent.

This brought you even more agitation upon you. Doing something wrong, and it wasn’t even going as planned. This is what happened when you let yourself feel something.

Oh, no. Now you even admitted it to yourself that you had felt something for the asshole. If he ever heard of this, you would probably have to quit this job.

You pressed harder on the handle, never been more frustrated in your life than you were at that time. You were pathetic. Utterly disgraceful, but you could not help when you could not deny that Lee Minho-

You could not finish the thought.

Not when your hand slid on the handle too hard, swinging open the door. You let out a shrill screech as you stumbled inside the office, papers leaving your hands.

The conversation ceased, and you did not need to see them to know their eyes were on you.

Minho’s honey voice filled the room.

“What is this intrusion?”

You looked up, and felt your heart stop.

There he was, sitting leaned back at his plush executive chair, spinning a pen between his fingers. His brown locks were now raked back, a few strays cascading on the side of his forehead. His blazer was off, hung on his chair, and his shirt was tight on his hard chest.

Steadying yourself, but not your butterflies inside, you also saw Miss Kim hovering over him, showing him a few documents with her head a little close to his. She glanced up at you, and her face soured.

Minho snapped his fingers, shaking you out of your staring. “I asked you a question, ____.”

You wanted to snap at him, but reigned it in. “Sorry, but…”

But what? Not like you came in here with a plan.

Your eyes slid down to fallen files on the floor. “I needed to discuss...a proposal!”

Kneeling down, you picked up the scattered pieces of paper, on your feet in an instant. “Yes. A business proposal I needed to talk about.”

The man was not stupid; he saw right through your feeble excuse, with the impish gleam in his gaze. “Is that so?”

“What else would it be?” you pressed, masking your growing nerves with your irked frown.

His lips began to curve. You both stared each other down, refusing to back away. Miss Kim cleared her throat, even more angered by you now receiving his full attention.

“Shall I continue or…?” she carried off, completely deprived of his regard. Only when you glanced at her did his smile waver, raising the file.

He kept his eyes on you. “We can review this later,” he said to Miss Kim. He then addressed you. “And this time I’ll have an actual meeting planned. Happy, ____?”

You couldn’t suppress a scoff, not gone unnoticed yet unaddressed, as the woman took the files from him. She sent him a dazzling smile. “I will see you later, Mr. Lee.”

He returned it with a nod, watching her stroll past you, and out of the office. You watched the door close itself, sensing the silence more now the two of you were alone.

The quiet stretched on for longer before a hard sigh had you facing your boss once again.

“Beautiful, isn’t she,” he began, observing you from his rather messy desk.

That little comment of his pissed you right off. “The prettiest, in my opinion,” you crowed, gripping onto the files harder.

You then caught the shit-eating grin upon his face, and marred your face in a frown, causing him to splutter into laughter.

“Stop laughing,” you spat, but that only made him more breathless. “Oh, I’m leaving!”

“No you’re not,” he rasped out, finally calming down. He raised a hand across the chair before his desk. “You’re going to sit down and tell me of the proposals.”

A retort was on your tongue when you stopped, taking in his order. “Proposals?”

He cocked his head slightly, stray hairs tumbling with the action. “You said when you burst into my office that-”

He halted himself, everything falling into place.

When he focused on you this time, your stomach coiled at the way his smirk lit up his face. “Are you telling me you pretended to have appointments so you’d have that woman out of my room?”

The lack of response on his question had the man chortling. “My, my. Why so jealous, doll?” He gripped onto the arms of his chair, leaving the seat. “If you wanted me alone all you had to do was ask.”

Taking a step away from the desk, his fingers drummed on the table. “I wouldn’t have insisted on making an appointment either.”

A last surge of courage passed through you, especially from his words. “And what would you have done?” you got out.

The drumming paused, more from surprise at your question.

His piercing stare positively flared. “I don’t think you’d be able to handle it,” he guttered.

I don’t think you’d be able to handle it.

You didn’t know why that enraged you so much.

The cat and mouse game, once again being deflated by his words, leaving you disappointed. Why should you accept defeat this time?

You made sure he heard your thoughts.

“God, you really are a fucking prick!”

A pause. “Why would that be?” He took a step towards you, sharp brows furrowing.

“You…” staring at him, you screwed your face up in anger. “Toying with me all this time, yet doing nothing about it!”

That fine eyebrow was raised, but you carried on, refusing to let him speak. “Every single day, without fail, we see each other, bicker back and forth, and for what? Me all frustrated and you just enjoying it?”

You made sure you knifed your boss with a glare. “You just say words and leave. That’s all you can do.”

There was an eerie stillness after that — a slight shift in Minho’s demeanour, as his eyes narrowed, darkened at your claim. His hands, in his pockets before, slid out, and you saw they were fisted tightly.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me perfectly, sir,” you spat, that damned word he made sure you said every time . “You’re all bark and no bite.

“You’re a fucking coward.”

There it was.

The allegation against him. The words you’ve been wanting to say for so long, because you let yourself feel something for this man, and fuck, if he did not do anything about it you would quit this job here and now.

His next words were a mere whisper. They did not possess a hint of softness.

“Do you really think that?”

Another step.

Veins, slight before, we’re now more visible on his hands, trailing all the way up to the edge of the rolled up sleeves. When you caught his gaze, you nearly gasped at the pure, carnal fire that blazed within.

“Calling me a coward.”

Before you knew it, the man thundered towards you, and those veiny hands gripped your waist, pulling you to him in an iron grip. A small hiss escaped you at the sudden restraint.

“Don’t you dare call me a fucking coward again.”

His breath fanned your mouth, you mere inches from him. You made sure you kept your ground till the very end. Wherever that led you.

“Or what?” Your hands slid up to his shoulders. “Not like you would do anything. As per usual.”

And as the heavy silence reigned on the both of you, you had a little realisation.

Those words might have just been your undoing.

Because the second they left your tongue, Lee Minho growled fiercely before colliding his lips against yours.

His mouth snatched the very breath from you, an instant whine trying to escape yet refused by his lips, capturing yours and taking you with the strength of a wild beast. You nearly fell backwards from the pure momentum but were saved by his hands on you, branding their place on your skin.

The most surprising part was how you kissed him back with the same anger. The same rage which simmered the very first day you argued with him, and vowed to make his life a living hell, just like how he made yours unbearable during work. He captured your lower lip and began sucking on the flesh, and an obscenely loud moan escaped you at the contact.

The bastard was good. He was so, fucking good.

Just when you thought he’d go deeper, he pulled away, a thin bridge of saliva connecting the both of yours lips.

The trail broke when he took a step back, settling himself on his seat. That glistening mouth curved into a feline smirk, thumb stroking his lower lip.

“Still a coward, doll?”

You nearly collapsed without his hold. He took notice of your position, and scoffed at your weakness. “Looks like you took up the role instead.”

“How is that,” you rasped out, breath still uneven. “When you’re the one who stopped to sit down?”

Taking a step before him, your knees brushed against his own. “Looks like grandpa needs a rest.”

The comment had Minho’s eyes set ablaze. “You fucking—”

His hands reached out, tugging you upon him as he stayed seated. Your legs kneeled on either side of him, straddling him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, willingly accepting his lips. They worked so hypnotically with yours that you did not realise them opening your mouth completely, with his tongue sliding inside. He explored everywhere, finding your own tongue and swirling it along with his, ruining any chance of you suppressing your groaning at his actions.

Perhaps Minho took notice of your stubbornness, because his hands landed on your thighs, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt. You let the groan free as he hitched the fabric higher, higher, higher, removing himself from your lips and descending down, pouncing on a particular patch of skin on your neck.

“Already so—” he sucked hard on your neck, revelling in your whines, “—already so loud when I’ve only just kissed you?”

“Fuck you,” you breathed out, digging his nails into his shirt. He cackled at your response, sinking his teeth and creating the first bruise of the evening.

“I’m gonna have to teach you some manners,” he whispered onto your skin, raising your skirt high enough that your intricate lacing of your lingerie, black as the night, began to show. Minho practically salivated at the image; you knew from the raging lining beneath his trousers.

“All talk,” you merely said, despite the uneven breathing. “All talk and no action.”

His thumbs pressed into your thighs, ceasing your words with a little whine. It had the man capturing your lips again, pulling you down with his hands on your legs, closing any distance between you two, needing to have you all over him. Your lips swelled, bruised by the rough handling of your boss’ mouth, ravaging you in ways you didn’t dare dream of. His fingers, trailing up your skin once again, curled under the waistband of your underwear.

Your heart hammered in your chest at his touch. He was being too slow, too damn slow while you dripped with the beginning of arousal, making you a shuddering mess.

Lee Minho was about to slide the lace down when a shrill call flooded the room.

Both of you stopped dead in your tracks. The man whirled to the origins of the sound, coming from his wide open laptop — a notification for joining a meeting call popped up on the screen, automatically picking up in about five seconds.

Your boss nearly had a heart attack.

With quick thinking, Minho pried you off him, practically dumping you upon the floor with a slight groan. His hands gathered you under the table, pressing a finger to your lips with a stern look before disappearing up on his desk.

You let out a deliberately loud scoff just before he accepted the call, fingers swiping down to pinch you for calling out. You could not see his face, only from the navel down, sat right before you, caging you with his legs.

“Ah, Mr. Lee!”

A gasp almost escaped you, but remembered his glare and actually stopped. One make out session and you already obeyed him like a servant.

Over your dead body.

Your boss’ low growl had you widening your eyes. “What do you want, Chan?”

The hazy answer revealed his employee’s concern. “Mr. Lee, are you okay?” You heard him say through the laptop speaker.

You saw Minho’s leg start bouncing rapidly, and although you could not see his expression, you knew that he was, most definitely, pissed off. “I’m perfect. Fantastic even. Now what do you want?”

You were ready to sit still, wait through the meeting as Chan’s uncertain voice spoke of some specific business deals that needed to be confirmed, few details that needed to be checked over. However, the way your arousal still dripped, ever so slowly, was a weight, reminding you of the activities occurring mere moments before. You didn’t even bother to pull your skirt down.

It was settled. You needed this problem of yours solved now, or never.

Fortunately for you, your solution was presented to you, right before your eyes, and right between Minho’s legs.

His cock still stood, erect against the lining of his trousers.

You gulped at the sight. The bastard was mean, flaunting it all before you, knowing you would have thrust it straight in your mouth if you hadn’t been interrupted.

A spark ignited within you. Why should it stop you now?

Oh God. Why were you suddenly becoming so bold? Was it you, being so turned on that you needed your needs met without wait? Whatever the reason, you found nothing to argue against it.

If Minho was playing games with you, then you would play along with him.

Hands stretching on the floor, you crawled towards him, settling yourself between the space his legs created. Kneeling slightly, your fingers extended towards the zipper on his trousers, prying it down.

The man stilled under your touch.

Head protruding from the edge of the table, you spied Minho’s eyes, ever so carefully darting down to you, his mouth parting slightly under the cover of his hand. He hummed at Chan’s words, but you knew his interest was rooted only to you and your daring fingers.

When you unzipped his trousers, ready to peel them down, his other hand, out of the sight of the laptop, caught your wrist. His grip dug into your skin, stopping you in your tracks.

You looked up at him, making sure you expose your desperation in your eyes. His own widened, only for a second before dragging them back on the screen. A smirk curved onto your lips, knowing he was so affected by your mere actions. How you dared to toy with your boss.

The pout-like expression paid off, when the grip on your wrist loosened. Hurriedly your hands went to the waistband of his trousers, pulling the fabric down, and you had to commend Minho’s ability to look so calm when you were practically drooling at the sight that welcomed you.

You did not even bother to pull the pants right down, stopping just under his knees as you admired his finely sculpted thighs. It was no secret that your boss worked out everyday after he was done with meetings, and every time you caught evidence of his toils you wished you didn’t inwardly moan at the sight. His taut muscle stretched all the way up to his underwear, slightly soiled at the tip of his dick, outlined against the fabric.

Minho glanced down for a second at his antics, and when he looked back at the laptop again there was a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

“Chan, hurry and finish this up,” he jeered.

This was enough signal to start peeling his boxers down too.

Your eyes nearly popped out of your sockets when you saw his cock spring free, curving proudly with its tip inches from his abdomen. The top glistened with the pre-cum, trailing down the length.

Oh dear God.

Your index, on instinct, reached out, cutting the white trail as you journeyed up the shaft. Minho’s low, barely audible growl had you shivering.

“Mr. Lee, you don’t look so well,” you heard the hazy worry of your coworker. You couldn’t help the giggle, and Minho’s side glare had you grinning.

He was not the one in control at the moment.

“I said I’m fine, Chan,” he snapped, and when you swiped up the remaining pre-cum on the head his dick twitched, a choked breath escaping. “Perfectly fine!”

“Uh, okay, then, this won’t take much longer…”

You, on the other hand, were just getting started.

Fingers, first stroking up the shaft, now wrapped around his cock, and with your heart in your throat you began a slow rhythm of sliding your hand up and down. Glancing up, you caught the colour of his face draining, using every ounce of his strength not to groan out loud.

You savoured the harsh tick in his jaw, quickening your pace and watched the man lose his cool, nerves in his neck protruding. Oh God, he was on the edge of his patience. It only encouraged your risky behaviour, dick hardening even more beneath your touch.

Still, there was no vocal outcry, to your irritation. You wanted to embarrass him during his meeting. Make him shut that laptop and moan out what he’s feeling. With these goals in mind, you cupped the base, and snuck a little closer, your face mere inches from his cock.

Taking one last peek at his paled face, you brought out your tongue and slid it along the head.

A soft groan emitted from your boss.

Chan’s monologuing of events paused, but the look on Minho’s face had him hurriedly continuing, while you progressed on, lapping up the remaining pre-cum you couldn’t catch with your index. You were never fond of the taste, but you took it in anyway, just to see the bastard’s mouth part in a way which had you almost leaking too.

Done with the soft, kitty licks, you hung on to your courage as you opened your mouth a little wider, taking in the head with your lips. Your hands stay wrapped around his cock as you, slowly, so slowly, went down, taking in inch by inch.

Minho’s fist smacked against the desk.

“Mr. Lee—”

“Ask me again, and you’re fired,” your boss guttered, hips sliding forward to push his cock further into your mouth. You nearly gagged at the action, but take it all in, obliging him because then you created a pattern of bobbing your head. Up and down, going easy, relaxed at first, you were sure Lee Minho was going to bring down his office.

But he didn’t.

And all because of that fucking meeting.

Suddenly angered, you did not bother fastening your pace, ready to give him blue balls for not reacting to your touches. Your mouth was back on top, lips still wrapped around the head, when you looked up at your boss through your lashes.

He stared down at you. Widened his eyes at the sight of you still enveloping his cock with your mouth, your gaze revealing the irritation of his lack of response.

Oh, he’ll give you something to work with.

His hand immediately when to the back of your head, stopping you from leaving as the other hand grabbed at the laptop screen.

Chan knew exactly what he was about to do. “Mr. Lee, I still have one more thing—”

You did not hear anymore, hearing the sharp SNAP! of the laptop shutting.

The silence returned, but did not stay for long as, gradually, Minho looked down at you, properly this time, and offered you such a lust-filled stare you were glad you did not leave your place upon his cock.

“Did you really think, doll,” he whispered, running his fingers through your hair, “That I was going to let you leave me? Just like that?”

You did not answer back — obviously, because your mouth was a little occupied, but you raised your brows at him, hands tightening at his base. He let out a shuddered breath, chuckling.

“Still a brat, hmm? At least you’re not talking back.”

He tugged harder at your locks. “If this was the way to shut you up, I would have done it a long time ago.”

Although your cheeks burned, you made sure to shut him up when you started your flow once again, closing your eyes as you went up and down on him.

Only this time, you had a little assistance.

Minho’s groaning roamed the room, like sweet music to your ears as you gradually fastened, working his dick with your hands too. Instinctively, the man bucked his hips into you, needing to have all of his inches in your mouth, needing to release all that pent up frustration that you created for him.

He said as much.

“Look at you,” he rasped up at you, curling away flyaways from your face as you worked on him. “Taking all of my cock…ah, all of my cock in your pretty little mouth.”

His filth was encouragement, and as you were sucking harder you could tell he was getting near. Pride washed over you, as your one of your hands reached out to play with his balls, earning a harsh moan from his lips.

“Ah—keep going, doll,” he rasped, his hips straying from a solid rhythm, knowing he’s going to let go soon if you kept up at this rate. “Doing so well.”

Perhaps these pieces of praise had you looking up, making sure he was watching as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him all in fully, a slight curve to your lips.

The absolute sin in the image of you kneeling before him, with his full length in you, had him crying out. He could not control the release that shot into your throat, pouring down and making you gag at its suddenness. Still, you took it all in, accepted the cum instead of spitting it out.

When he was finished, slightly heaving, his eyes danced at you slowly swallowing it down, a challenge in the quirk of your brow. Sweat beaded down at your forehead, but knowing you had Minho moaning over your skill was something to take pride in.

Lapping up the remaining cum, you swiped it off with the back of your hand. “Nice meeting, sir?”

The man could only laugh at your comment, so normal despite the situation. ”Adequate,” he drawled, pulling his boxers and trousers up as he cleaned off his dick. “But there’s still much to discuss.”

He wheeled his chair back, arms wrapping around you to free you from under the desk. You were glad of his help, for your legs were near-buckling. He noticed this too, for a smirk began to play on his lips.

Leaving you for a just a moment, he turned to his desk. He threw all his work off the top, paper and stationary flying from the table and scattering onto the floor. His laptop was thrusted at the ends of the table, unable to be a distraction.

“Hey, your papers will be all messed up,” you started, but he surprised you with a heart-searing kiss, making you almost collapse. You let his tongue slide inside instantly, hands gripping harder onto your hips as he tasted his release on your tongue, and when he roughly tugged on your lower lip, you gasped lightly at the harsh treatment.

He backed you further, the back of your upper thighs hitting his desk, and when he left your lips, his dark gaze had you weakened.

“I don’t really give a fuck about the papers right now, doll.”

You would have leaked out your arousal there and then. “Minho—”

“Did I tell you to call me Minho?” He demanded, fingers digging into your hips. Dazed, you tilted your head, only wanting his tongue down your throat again.

Catching the expression, he shook his head. “I’ll let you off today because you’re being a good little bitch this time.”

Dear God, you hated how you loved being called that.

His tongue working on your neck had you whimpering. “It’s sir to you, understand?”

You already had a counterpoint to piss him off with, but the animalistic threat in his eyes had you gulping. “Yes sir.”

The title had him going hard all over again. He teethed another hickey onto your skin, finding solace in the crook of your neck.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten you all wet for me before, doll,” he whispered, hands sliding down, gripping the hem of your skirt. He hurriedly hitched it upwards, bunching it at your hips.

His fingers skimmed over your thighs before feeling the soft silk of your black lingerie, a familiar sight. “Ah, see?” His sole index traced over the front, dipping the fabric in your slit, already staining with your arousal. “All wet, just for me.”

“Stop it,” you whined, hands on his shoulders. “Stop teasing.”

“Since when do you order me around, ____?” He crowed, palming your clothed cunt, completely ignoring your demands. A ragged breath escaped you at the friction, so pleasurably wonderful you feared what would happen to you when he plays with you without the thin layer.

His attitude, however, still pissed you right off.

“I’ll be dried up by the time you start,” you seethed at him, nails digging into his shoulders. Provoking him was your only option, to get him to stop beating around and rail you on his desk.

“I don’t think so, doll,” he purred, other hand playing with the bands of your panties. You were about to snap when he hooked a finger over the hem of the lace and slid the underwear right down, just above your knee, and your breathing hitched as you found his gaze rooted to your now exposed cunt, already glistening from your arousal.

Minho’s mouth was practically salivating.

Despite the nerves growing in your belly, you still snapped him out of his mind drooling. “Are you going to just keep staring? Because that isn’t going to make me cum.”

His eyes slid to you, and shit, you could tell how much he wanted to beat your ass for your useless commentary. “Don’t make me shut you up again.”

“Talk, talk, talk,” you provoked, grabbing hold of his black tie.

A primal growl emitted from his throat, and when his fingers began skimming over the surface, you let out a whimper. “Oh, so my little doll wants to cum all over my fingers, then?” he muttered, eyes gleaming with an indecipherable goal.

His dirty words, along with him playing over your folds, had your stomach all knotted up. It was this tight feeling which had you breathing out, “Yes sir.”

The title at the end which had him slipping the first finger inside of you.

The feeling of his index sliding inside had you moaning much too loud for an action so small. Minho thoroughly enjoyed your reaction, finger almost fully inside when he palmed your core as well, already had you halfway there to your own undoing.

When his finger was up to the knuckle, his other hand found refuge in your locks, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your throat. He began to slowly pull out, creating the same gradual rhythm you had when your mouth was on his cock before. When only the pad of his finger was inside, he thrust back in, making you whine at the rush.

If that was not enough, a second finger joined in on his labour, stretching your walls and you hissed at the snugness of his digits in your cunt, continuing that pattern which had you crying out from pure ecstasy. Damn the bastard, but he was so good at making you helpless.

A deep feeling settled in your gut, and you knew if he kept up at this, you were going to cum all over him. “I-I’m close,” you got out, wrapping your hand around the tie further, pulling him even closer.

Minho, satisfied with creating a painting of lovebites upon your neck, locked your gaze with his. You were surprised to find sinister mischief in his eyes. “My babydoll is going to cum, now?” he questioned, further puzzled to hear softness in his usual fire-like voice. You nodded desperately, praying that he finger-fucks you after this calm. All you desired now was sweet release.

Which was why you cried out in protest when he slipped his fingers out entirely.

Your lust-hazed eyes looked at him, all wide. “Wh-what?”

The arousal-stained fingers gripped your thigh, a small yelp escaping you. The man’s other hand gripped your chain, making sure you don’t break his carnal stare. “You don’t get to cum unless I say so.”

You nearly sobbed as you felt your orgasm start to fade. You knifed him with a glare, pulling him a hair’s breadth from you with the tie. “What the fuck is up with that, sir?”

His grip on your chin tightened. “Don’t argue back, doll.”

The two digits were pushed inside you once again, and still, damn your senses, your breathing hitched. “If I see release on my fingers, I’ll fuck the orgasm up, understand?”

Although the nerves were back, you wished looks could kill when you stared at him. So he’s going to keep toying with you, then?

Well. Two could play that game.

You convinced him with a timid smile, wrapping your hand around his tie all the way. “As you say, sir.”

Delighted at your response, he struck up that hypnotic flow of his fingers, slowly pumping inside of you. Of course, you relished the way he worked within you, knowing he was waiting for the final cry when he hit a specific spot, but you had to show him your place.

Instead of moaning down the office, like you wished you would, your stubbornness silenced you completely.

Even when Minho fastened his pace, making it incredibly hard for you to stay rigid, you gave him a taste of his own medicine, not a single whine escaping you, just the way he stayed angrily quiet in the meeting. His tie was your only source of venting out your frustration, pulling on it so harshly you wondered how the man’s neck hadn’t given in yet.

A strange sense of hysteria bubbled within you when your boss noticed your silence. Snarling, he dug deeper, and when he hit your g-spot, your eyes nearly burst out of your sockets.

“Being a fucking brat again?” he retorted, fingers playing with the spot until finally, a soft whine came free of your tongue. “Trying to mock me?”

You took in a ragged breath, hair a mess, courtesy of his hand. You glared and glared, but still, you refused to say anything. Refused to say a word, and when you saw his mouth twist into a scowl you savoured his anger.

He ripped his hand from your tie, loosening it from his neck. He straightened it out, every action fuelled with aggression. It made your whole body crawl with excitement.

You parted your mouth to piss him off even more when you suddenly felt a mouthful of silk, completely stopping you. Trying to whine, the tie knotted behind your head, and Minho pulled so hard it nearly stopped your blood circulation.

“Didn’t want to moan, huh?” he guttered, tying up a pretty knot beneath your locks. “Tried to be smart, did you?

The tie wedged inside your mouth stopped you from answering back, Minho taking great satisfaction in your broken mumbling. “Oh, so you wanna talk now?” he mocked, slowly descending, until his face was at level with your cunt. He looked up, and the sight had you shutting up immediately. “No, we’ll play your little game.”

His eyes resembled a demon’s. “One fucking word from you and you’ll be sorry,” he warned, hands, now on your thighs, squeezing the muscle. The anger was so cold you only nodded erratically, fingers gripping the edge of the table.

Spreading your legs a slight, he closed the distance, tongue opening the seams and licking the surface.

You could not help the stifled moan which worked its way out the gag.

Retracting at your reaction, he glanced up, fingers digging into your skin. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he growled, trailing down your inner thigh. That command alone had you in near tears.

He didn’t wait for your incoherable answer as he dived right back in, tongue now licking your clit in a way which had you seeing stars, along with the added assault of his two digits pumping your core. He immediately found your sweet spot and curled his fingers, knowing you would melt right on his face.

Because the gag worked wonders in ceasing your words, you had to vent out your release through gripping Minho’s hair, pushing further, begging him to just let you cum all over his face. The man was a mean prick, though, and wouldn’t ever give you that satisfaction.

His fingers increased their tempo, in and out, and your orgasm was right on the edge, threatening to wash over you if he didn’t stop. You whined as much as you could this time, praying he understood what you meant, and not just you provoking him further.

You tried to curse yourself at how pathetic you were in that state, but you were honestly so fucked out you didn’t particularly care. All you wanted now was for Minho to ruin you.

The man, taking notice of your cries, paused his licking, fingers still at their thrusting. His eyes still up at your ravaged state, and you nearly undid yourself at the pure pride that shone in his gaze. “Does my little brat wanna cum all over my face?” he cooed darkly, and you could not nod fast enough, earning a husky chuckle from him.

“Will you talk back?” God, an even faster shake of your head, eyes glistening. “You better fucking not.” he sighed, blowing on your cunt which had you wailing into the silk. “Well, since the gag’s still on…”

He offered you a small grin, enough to drive you insane.

“Go on then, you fucking slut. Cum on my face.”

His mouth was upon your cunt in seconds, just in time for you crying out into the tie-gag as you released your orgasm, creating a mess of him as you spilled yourself onto his tongue, his chin, everywhere, barely avoiding the office floor. Minho slowed his pumping inside, eventually ceasing as he took in your release, pulling away.

You caught the slight spillage scattered on his chin, and he slid his tongue down, looking up at you with feline amusement. “All that bitching, and you still cummed,” he mused, soothing your throbbing with his fingers. “Still gonna call me a coward?”

He stood, his clothed hard on rubbing against your folds, and you knew you that despite the orgasm, you needed more. His mere fingers, however heavenly, were not enough.

His one hand cupped your head while the other tugged on the gag, pulling it down from your mouth. You coughed lightly at the freedom, desire swirling in your features still. “I…” you started, but your throat still hurt. “I…”

“Use you words, doll,” he ordered, unravelling the knot on his tie behind you. “God knows you use them too well.”

“F-fuck...you,” you rasped out, causing him to raise a brow.

“Still got attitude?” He traced his thumb over your cheek. “Despite you whining like a little bitch to let you cum?”

His hands left your face, sliding to your thighs as he gripped onto them, having you sit on the desk. He then moved down further, tossing your lingerie before wrapping your legs around his waist.

Leaning in, his chuckle tickled your lips. “Guess I’m gonna have to fuck the brat out of you.”

That alone would have had you moaning if Minho didn’t shut you up with a rough kiss, fingers sloppily unbuttoning your shirt. He sucked on your tongue, failing to take the shirt off, and with a harsh groan ripped the parting, buttons popping to the floor. He peeled the attire off you, dumping it with your panties, and when he pulled away, he took in your intricately laced bra, and his malice was replaced with pure, unadulterated lust.

“God, I’m going to ruin you, doll.”

You answered with capturing his mouth, nibbling on his bottom lip, his clothed boner creating friction against your inner thighs. His hands ravaged all over your exposed skin, while your own returned the favour, unbuttoning his shirt and taking it off. You ran your fingers up his abdomen, the granite solidity having you rolling your hips against him. Smiling against your lips, you felt his hands descend, gripping at the underside of your thighs before he lifted you up.

You gasped lightly, wrapping your hands around his neck as Minho, while leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, collarbone, tongue sliding along, turned around, your back to the full view of the nightlife of the city, revealed through floor length windows of his office all around. Walking towards it, he backed you up against the glass, the cold sending shivers down your spine. That, and Minho leaving core-shaking kisses upon your skin, as he began to unhook your bra strap, tearing the lingerie off you.

“Minho!” you exclaimed, when he planted his lips upon your bare breast, sole finger playing with the other. Hearing his name had him grinding against you, making you whimper.

He went up, erratic breathing entering your ears. “It’s sir to you,” he snapped, before diving back in on your breast, licking over your nipple so thoroughly that you felt that overgrowing need to release once again. Again, with the teasing, the playing, when all you needed was his cock to fill you right up.

“Sir, p-please,” you begged, your legs locked tightly behind him.

“Please what, doll?” he hissed onto your skin, one hand tracing your throat.

One more thrust of his hips and your eyes pricked with tears. “P-please fuck me, sir,” the knots in your belly growing.

“Finally,” he breathed out, thumbing your neck, softly compared to the hard on you were practically sitting on. “You’re not being a little bitch.”

One hand still clasped around his neck, you brought the other down to his trousers. Looking up at him, he almost softened.

“Now you’re asking permission?” he cooed, straying from your breasts. “Being a good girl for me?”

You never had an idea on how much that affected you. “Don’t push it,” you countered, a tired smirk still playing on your lips.

“Go on, doll,” he said, hitching you higher on the glass, moistening with the sweat beading down your back. “But I like you better when you beg.”

“Let’s see if you-ah!” you were cut off when you pulled his trousers down, and his cock tried to burst from his stained underwear, rubbing against your cunt much too deliciously. “Fuck me hard enough.”

“Stop running your mouth and pull my boxers off,” he ordered, and this you willingly obliged, careful of your leg-lock as you peeled them down to his knees, he getting them clean off. When his cock sprung free, you were salivating at the sight, angry red and ready to have it inside of you.

When he caught your blatant staring, he snapped his fingers. “Careful, or you’ll start cumming without my permission.”

Your widened eyes darted to him, and your lack of response had him actually laughing. “Already forgotten your words?” he mocked, fingers gripping your chin. “My babydoll is getting dumb staring at my cock.”

“Please, sir,” you murmured, locking your hands behind his neck. “P-please fuck me.”

Minho let out a pleasured sigh at your pleading. “As you wish, ____.”

Pressing his forehead against yours, he clasped his cock, directing the tip to your entrance, already staining the surface with its pre-cum. His other hand gripped onto your hip, steadying you against the glass, now slightly misted.

“Ready?” he asked, surprised to hear a little softness as he caressed your hip with his thumb.

You nodded against his forehead, parting your mouth. “Yes, sir.”

A little scoff escaped him. “Good girl.”

That was all he needed before he began the final descent.

His cock slid inside, and your breathing turned irregular as your walls stretched slightly at the intrusion. He went further and further, moving ever so slowly to let you adjust. Lord knows you needed to, when his dick was so big.

“O-oh my God—” you stumbled out, feeling as if the man had filled you right up to your gut when he was finished. You kept deathly still, fearing you might shatter if you even moved the wrong way.

“It’s okay, doll,” he reassured you, hand leaving his cock and settling upon your other hip. “Whenever you’re set.”

“I’m good,” you said, more scared that you would cum right onto his dick if he tried to move inside you. “Stop worrying and...and fuck me already.”

His thumbs pressed harder on your sides, a pleasured sting ringing. “Now I won’t regret it if you can’t walk after this.”

A ragged scoff escaped you. “We’ll see about that-”

Well, you really couldn’t when Minho began to pull out.

Your mockery was cut off with a shrill cry, hold tightening on him as his cock slowly slid out. The gradual process was so pleasurable you had to hold onto him for dear life, or you knew you would collapse onto the office floor. The man made sure that never happened, grip on your sides never slipping, pressing you against the warming glass.

“I’ve only just started,” he drawled breathlessly, still relishing how loud you were being despite him merely beginning. “Has my babydoll never been fucked before?”

You had, but never had anyone made you so weakened by a simple pull out. In fact, your sexual life was average at best, but you telling him that he would, by far, be the biggest mistake. He’s already got an ego the size of his cock - you were not going to inflate it any larger.

“H-have been,” you gasped out. “B-better even.”

That false claim had him knitting his brows in anger. He thrusted his dick right back in, and another whine choked out of you.

“Liar,” he spat, filling you right to the brim. “Lying to me when my cock’s inside you.”

God, the rage that filled his veins was pure ecstasy in your mind. Good, you thought, making sure you chuckled at him. Provoke him till he breaks you.

“H-he was so much-argh!” you just couldn’t get a word out when he began to pull out once more, Minho now attacking your neck with his lips, bruised patches of your skin as he started up a painfully delightful rhythm of pushing and pulling his cock into you.

“Go on, you fucking brat,” he snarled onto your throat, licking up the column. “Try and tell me there was anyone better.”

You were on to tell him, gloat breathlessly that there were all these obviously real people who had fucked you into oblivion, but when his fingers began to prod at your clit those lies were replaced with thundering mewls, nails digging into his back.

Fastening his pace, you rolled your eyes back, head hitting the glass. Minho, watching you, slammed his hips forward, hitching you upward with the sheer force of his cock and snapping you out of your haze, making you look at him.

“I asked you something, doll,” he demanded with rich sarcasm, fingers never stopping on your clit, nearly taking you over the edge. When the head of his dick hit a certain spot, deep into your core, you couldn’t even control the slight drool which trailed down your spit-slick lips.

Minho’s dark laughter only had the knots tightening in your belly. “Awww, my babydoll’s so fucked out she can’t even speak?” his mouth curled into a smirk. “Only a useless set of holes for me to toy with, aren’t you?”

You thought you said something, hopefully something to shut him up, but when your orgasm was right at the tip of your cunt you knew it was as the bastard said - useless.

As you predicted, Minho quickened his fingers on your bud. “Worthless fucking bitch,” he mocked mercilessly, practically branding you against the glass. With the sheer anger he fucked you with, you were scared the windows would crack. You wouldn’t put it past him.

“C-close, sir,” you finally got out, managed to formulate the only words you needed at that moment. Your boss, at this, only increased his pace of his erratic thrusts, practically decimating your cunt with his cock. You had a feeling among the lust-filled haze of your mind that he, too, was getting close, with the way his flow turned sloppy.

“And…” he took in a sharp breath. “And what about it?”

Oh, you knew what his last game was. Permission from him, pleading to let you spill your arousal all over his cock.

In any normal circumstance, you would have laughed at their face. Made sure they never asked something so atrocious.

Lee Minho, however, was another case entirely. Not when he was your lifeline, the only one in the universe who could save you from this impending doom. Even though he was the bastard who brought it down on you in the first place.

So you did what possibly no human being could ever ask of you.

You pleaded.

Practically begged to let you feel sweet release.

“Can I…” another soft cry left your lips. “F-fuck, please...can I cum?”

Minho imprisoned you with his gaze. Locks sticking to his forehead, mouth parted in desire, and pupils dilated, you still found him so utterly beautiful, despite the wilderness beneath. Found him even more so when he finally decided to show you some mercy.

“Go on, babydoll. Cum for me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Your vision nearly blacked out when you obliged, orgasm spilling out from the tight spaces between your walls and his cock, dribbling down your legs and dripping onto the office carpet. The sight of your spillage had Minho finishing off his own thrusts, releasing an earth-shattering cry as he barrelled his own release into you, ropes of cum spilling out of your cunt, joining your mess on the floor.

A slight peaceful stillness settled over the office, save for the both of you, breathing as if you had been underwater this whole time. Minho’s cock was still inside you, snug around your moistened walls. Slowly, he pulled it out, hanging limp from use, and your cunt felt hollow, emptier than it has ever felt before.

You unlocked your legs from his waist, immediately regretting the action when they gave out under you. Collapsing onto Minho, you were instantly met with his arms, holding you up.

“Careful,” he muttered, leading you to his chair, settling you down on the plush leather. He pulled his boxers up, along with his trousers, finding your own attire on the floor and placing it on your lap.

Smiling lazily, you started adorning your rather dirtied attire. “A good business proposal, no?” you mused, referring to your terrible excuse at the beginning of the evening.

Remembering, he chuckled, putting on his shirt. “I never bought that anyway, doll,” he merely said, buttoning to the top. “I knew you were jealous.”

Cheeks burning, you mumbled a little shut up, earning yourself a grin from the man. Finding your own shirt useless from Minho ripping it open, you said so to the man. “Look what you’ve done to my top”

He only spared it a glance before grabbing his tie, stained with your saliva. “Look what you’ve done to my tie.”

“That was your own fault,” you remarked, hoping your blazer would cover your front up. “You put the gag on me, prick.”

“Feeling brave already?” Minho purred, already putting you on a familiar edge. “Thought I’d fucked the brat out of you by now.”

Oh, he really did. He truly made you his little bitch not moments ago, and perhaps that would be rooted in you for the future.

But of course, you’re not going to tell him that.

You stood up from his chair, slipping into your heels. His eyes watched you as you walked to the door, opening it wide.

You looked back, catching something akin to wonder in his gaze.

“It’s going to take a little more than that, sir,” you declared, and left the room, closing the door behind you.

And as you prepared to leave the building, Lee Minho stayed rooted in his office, feeling his insides go wild all over.

It’s going to take a little more than that, sir.

Oh, God.

The man scoffed.

“Fucking brat.”

“I DEMAND TO BE LET IN!”

Once again, you rolled your eyes at Miss Kim, who was now adorned in magenta, long boots tapping against the marble floor.

“Mr. Lee is busy, Miss Kim,” you told her for the umpteenth time, refusing to believe that one seemingly intelligent woman, who had her own business, could be so thick-headed. “If you would just sit down—”

“You don’t tell me what to do,” she snapped, pointing an acrylic-painted finger at you. “I am a special client of Mr. Lee’s, and don’t need an appointment.”

You let out a sharp breath through your nose. It had not even been two days before she was back at the office, demanding Minho’s presence for the continuation of her meeting before you interrupted them.

A small smile caught onto your lips. Thank God you did.

“Hey!”

You perked up, brows instantly furrowing. “Miss Kim, just like the last time, I cannot help you. I can only give you entrance inside if you have an official appointment.”

Letting out a harsh laugh, she shook her head, wiggling the same finger at you. “Miss whatever your name is, I don’t like to have my time wasted, and you certainly are wasting my time. If I say I want to see Mr. Lee then you better damn well let me see Mr. Lee!”

Your mouth nearly opened to snap back at her when the glass door beside you swung open, and out stepped the CEO himself, who possessed the same irritation on his face as you did as he leaned his figure against the doorway.

“What is this constant racket?” he complained to no one in particular, and when his eyes fell upon his unofficial client he stopped. “Oh, good afternoon Miss Kim.”

“Mr. Lee, your little assistant is being difficult once again,” the woman declared, glaring at you. “She did this the last time I was here, and even when you let me in she’s doing the same thing again.”

“Oh, really now?” Minho got out. He turned to you, his dashing face exposing slight amusement at the claim. “Is that so, ____?”

You fought the urge to smirk at him. “She does not have an appointment,” you explained, spinning your pencil to avoid his searing gaze. “You told me only to let the people who’ve made appointments enter your office.”

Minho grinned for you. “That I did,” he confessed, eyes sliding to Miss Kim, whose smug smile faltered. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid the rules must be followed.”

The woman’s arrogance faded completely when the words left his mouth, finding herself defeated. “I see,” she said, still souring at the sight of you. “Well, I’ll phone up tomorrow morning.”

“You do that, Miss Kim,” he agreed, and watched as the woman turned on her heel, grumpily exiting the building.

The man found your eyes, and you saw them dance with mischief. You already felt your heartbeat pick up the pace when he walked over to you, planting his hands on your desk. “I need you inside the office, doll.”

Oh my God. “Whatever for, sir?” you asked innocently, trying to focus on your round of Solitaire, stark on the computer screen.

The table creaked underneath his fists at the title. “Let’s say it’s a…” he leaned in a little, careful of his employees beyond the hallway. His voice conveyed a slight husky tone. “A business proposal.”

Shivers crawled down your spine. Fuck him. Fuck him for bringing up your shitty excuse of two days ago. “I hate you,” you whispered harshly to him, despite the nerves.

His eyes never left you. “We’ll see about that when we start the meeting, doll.”

He stood straighter, opening his office door. “Now are you coming in?”

You studied the open door, the hidden opportunity that laid beyond. When you caught the growing lust in his gaze, you pressed your thighs together.

Standing up, you hurried to the doorway, earning chuckling from your boss. “Shut up, asshole,” you hissed, entering the fated office. Seeing the desk already had your cheeks burning.

“It’s sir to you, brat,” he only said, hands already on you as he closed the door.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids oneshot #lee minho imagines #lee minho smut #lee minho dark hours #stray kids dark hours #stray kids hard hours #skz smut #skz imagines #skz oneshots #minho imagines #minho smut #skz hard hours #skz dark hours #TAGS BETTER WORK THIS TIME ISTG

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ironclawpoint · 3 years

Text

travis, jeane, and henry are shelter children: the abridged nmh3 headcanon for pals who havent killed the past

(and yeah there’s spoilers)

Who is Kamui?

In The Silver Case, Kamui Uehara is a legendary serial killer in Japan’s 24th Ward; he was arrested for the killings of several political figures in 1979 and suddenly broke out of prison and resumed activity in 1999. He notably had silver eyes. Plot twist: THIS IS A LIE, the 1979 Kamui and 1999 Kamui are different people (ish), and the No More Heroes Kamui is technically not this Kamui, even if he technically... is.

Danni, what the fuck.

Yeah man I know Kill the Past lore is fucked up.

How is this possible?

It’s a government conspiracy!!! The 1979 Kamui, also known as “Format” Kamui, had a personality type (obedient & with a lot of “criminal power” - aka capacity for chaos/destruction) that the Powers That Be determined would be really good for creating numerous controllable government sleeper agents to shift the balance of political power as they saw fit. This personality base was mass produced by imprinting it onto vulnerable young boys in the Shelters (Kamui Maspro) and later young girls (Ayame Maspro).

What’s a Shelter?

Horrible dystopian toddler reeducation bunker where young children were kidnapped, forced to do menial soul sucking tasks in a sterile environment, and reeducated before being subtly planted back into society as sleeper agents. Thousands of kids from the 24th Ward were taken. 1999 Kamui and NMH Kamui were both products of the Shelter. Specifically, NMH Kamui is the “ultimate” Kamui Uehara, having successfully absorbed the memories of previous Kamui consciousnesses to become a quasi-godlike meta-aware and fourth wall breaking being, in conjunction with the mysterious powers of the silver eye he had implanted into his socket, which also grants functional immortality...

DANNI WHAT THE FUCK

YEAH I KNOW BEAR WITH ME.

Isn’t that kind of like the Coburn Elementary stuff in Killer7?

IT SURE IS! Coburn and the development of Emir Parkreiner as a Japanese sleeper agent in American politics is quite close to Kamui/the Shelters. I also headcanon that Coburn is an American iteration of the 24th Ward’s Shelter Project, as, essentially, the government in both Killer7 and TSC are invested in controlling the population via (often violent) social engineering.

So how do Henry, Jeane, and Travis play into this?

As of NMH3, Henry has revealed that he and his siblings fled from their serial killer father and were captured and brainwashed into believing they had separate lives. In this headcanon, I posit that the three of them have been manipulated and influenced to become assassins due to whatever conditioning they received at this event, possibly at another Coburn-like project or facility. I’m undecided on whether the father who raised Travis / abused Jeane is their blood relative and the same as the serial killer or not, as it’s possible Travis and Jeane were returned to him after conditioning.

first of all HENRY HAS A FUCKED UP GREEN THIRD EYE LIKE EMIR. LIKE, LOOK AT IT.

NMH Kamui, in Travis Strikes Again, notes many similarities between himself and Travis: he has similar fourth-walling abilities to the type of being that Kamui has become and, like him, has a large amount of criminal power. On their own this doesn’t necessarily mean anything except travis fourth wall break kill real good, but combined with all the other heavy Kill the Past stuff we’ve seen and Henry’s backstory reveals, it’s not too tough to read into Travis having unknowingly developed into a being on the same level of existence as Kamui: in other words, a self-aware viewpoint for the player.

“Ayamestock” or “Kamuistock” characters, due to their conditioning, are often found in dangerous careers and think little of bloodshed; they are also usually being moved around like chess pieces by higher outside forces.

We don’t know what the hell the UAA or Sylvia is doing as of NMH3. The UAA was no longer false as of NMH2, but why do we still need this bureaucracy / to have the fights taped and widely circulated on the dark web as of TSA? Not to mention that Travis is an “above-ground” assassin while there’s an underground... tl;dr, I suspect Sylvia of manipulating Travis as a pawn, as she has since NMH1, in a way that might involve the Emerald Order and whatever figures were originally manipulating Travis/Jeane/Henry.

The siblings’ separation also fits neatly into the concept of the Shelters: at least one pair of siblings was separated via the Shelter Project, conditioned, then adopted into different families for the sake of spreading out that influence.

Travis has issues with unearthing suppressed memories (perhaps due to tampering?) in NMH3, plus Henry’s experiences with Mimmy in NMH2 suggest Henry does as well.

We don’t know much about Jeane, but “failed” Ayames and Kamuis -- those who didn’t take up the programming well enough -- are usually people on the fringes of society who aren’t placed anywhere influential and have to reckon with their latent violent tendencies some other way, ie CRIME and MURDERS. With her brothers as possible Kamuis, it’s possible she was an Ayame candidate as well, but remained an outcast due to her lack of compatibility. Ayames are also known for being purer / more given to bloodlust as the Ayame project, taking place after the Kamui one, had perfected the conditioning process-- see: the fact that she nearly took Travis out.

Finally: it would be cool and I like it.

#ty issa for helping me clarify this!!!

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vrednic · 3 years

Text

COLLATERAL DAMAGE (PT. 2)

Teen Wolf x Vampire Diaries AU

Prompt: Teen Wolf, but with a twist. Scott McCall has a twin sister… and she falls in love with Derek Hale.

Summary: After Scott refuses to join his pack, Peter Hale turns Serena McCall into a werewolf. Will her transformation be for better… or for worse?

Word Count: 3,285

Author’s Note: This series will skim the events of seasons 1-3. I have a lot of content planned, so there will be some skipping around at certain points, but it will all work in unison, I promise! I hope you all enjoy part 2! Please let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading :)

*PART ONE IS HERE. *

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Werewolves.

The topic of lycanthropy was one I hadn’t visited since freshman year english. I thought back to the unit of Greek mythology, and how we had been assigned research projects on famous Greek myths. My english teacher gave us the liberty to choose our own myths, and I had naively chosen Lycaon of Arcadia. Lycaon, the king of Arcadia, attempted to trick Zeus into eating human flesh, testing to see if he was truly all-knowing. Angered by Lycaon’s blasphemous actions, Zeus punished Lycaon by turning him into a wolf.

Oh, the irony of it all.

For the past three weeks, I have been given gradual insight into the world of the supernatural. The full moon was fast-approaching, and I needed to learn everything I could as quickly as possible. I wasn’t yet sure how I felt about my transformation. I was amazed at how quickly I began noticing changes. Overnight, it seemed, my senses had been dialed up to a thousand. I was stronger, faster, and more confident. I could smell, hear, and sense things other people couldn’t. One of the most fascinating things about my newfound abilities was that my body’s healing process was nearly instantaneous. The only downside of it was that I had yet to experience the brutality of the full moon. I was afraid that I would see things differently after, that I’d realize that I’d never be able to control it. Would my supernatural powers really be worth being enslaved to an insatiable bloodlust every month? Would it be worth putting my friends and loved ones at risk, especially when one slip-up could mean death for any and all of them?

I had been training tirelessly with Scott every day since I was bitten. Before school, after school, and during free periods. He had effectively taught me how to make my claws appear and disappear at will, how to partially shift into my werewolf form, how to follow scents, how to decipher chemo-signals, and how to trigger the healing process of an injury using pain. I was impressed with my progress, but I knew that I had only been exposed to bits and pieces of the extensive supernatural spectrum that I was now a part of. I had always been good at the technical side of things, so I knew that learning the basics of lycanthropy wasn’t going to be an issue. I considered myself to be on the smart side-- I had no problem displaying resourcefulness or creativity or administering critical thinking in complex situations. One thing I wasn’t very good at, however, was regulating my emotions.

When our parents got divorced, Scott and I handled things very differently. He was always a mama’s boy, and I was a daddy’s girl. Our father was an alcoholic and a cheater; something I knew all too well, but was also something I wanted to remain oblivious to. I’m assuming this realization is what made it easier for Scott to hate him, to be okay with moving on without him. It was harder for me to cope with his absence because our dad had always been my rock -- my hero -- and I couldn’t picture him ever hurting anyone. Especially me.

The night my mom kicked my dad out of the house for good, he had come home drunk. He instigated an argument with her over something, as usual. But with them it was never just an argument; it always ended up with them screaming at each other. Scott and I shared a room back then, and it was located right by the staircase, which was where they happened to be arguing that night. Not surprisingly, their heated voices turned into shouts, and we were both awoken. We peered through a crack in the door as our parents fought. My dad could barely keep his balance; his cheeks were flushed, his eyes crazy, violent words spewing from his mouth fueled by intoxication. I remembered vividly how he had lost his composure and grabbed my mother by the neck, slamming her against the wall. I let out an audible gasp and stood frozen in horror. Scott flung the door open and rushed into the hall, immediately wedging himself between our mother and father. My dad grabbed Scott’s arm, attempting to pull him out of the way, but yanked my brother with too much force. He was flung against the railing of the staircase, and he tumbled down the stairs. He was unconscious at the bottom of the stairs for maybe 30 seconds, and when he came to, he didn’t remember a thing. My mother ushered us back into our room and put us into bed. I fell asleep crying that night, but I didn’t know exactly for whom I was crying. Had it been for my brother? Had it been for my mother? For the loss of my dad? Or was it for me?

I hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye to him. I woke up the following morning, expecting him to be there, bags in tow, waiting to talk to us one last time. But he was already gone. I knew he didn’t deserve it, but I couldn’t help but miss him. When the plea for divorce was initiated, there was never a discussion about shared custody or visitations. Once the divorce was finalized, I knew that he was never coming back. It was because of his betrayal and abandonment that I grew up with issues when it came to trusting people. I was filled with this deep, aching feeling of isolation, and it made me angry. Very. As I grew older, I got better at suppressing it, but I knew that somewhere deep down, it was still there. With the full moon prodding and poking at my resolve and self control, I knew it was only a matter of time before those feelings resurfaced.

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The day of my first full moon, I felt the effects as soon as I got out of bed in the morning. I felt my heartbeat rising with every breath that I took. When I got to school, my senses immediately began to feel overstimulated. Everything was brighter, louder, and more jarring. The sound of the bell ringing made me feel like someone was hammering nails into my skull. The people I passed in the hallway blurred together, all of their emotions and scents hitting me like a door to the face. At lunch, the sound of people’s voices and laughter made me want to tear their heads off. I looked around the cafeteria, feeling myself grow angrier and angrier, for seemingly no reason at all. Rationally, I knew that these people had done nothing wrong. Emotionally, they were the piece of gum stuck under my shoe. My gaze locked on Jackson Whittemore, and I fantasized about how good it would feel to tear his tongue right out of his head. He had always been an asshole to my brother, so why shouldn’t I kill him? It would be extremely satisfying to watch the smug look on his face disappear as I stood over him, my hands drenched in his blood, as I began to tear him limb from limb…

“Uh, Serena? Are you okay?”

Scott’s voice brought me back to reality. I was suddenly overcome with anxiety as I realized the vile intrusive thoughts that I was just experiencing. What was the matter with me? This wasn’t me. I wasn’t a killer. Only, maybe that wasn’t exactly true anymore.

I nodded, fabricating a smile. “Yeah, no, everything’s great. I was just thinking about my research paper for… biology. It’s due tomorrow and I have no clue where to start.”

“That’s fair,” he said. “But remember that it’s perfectly okay for you to be feeling on edge today. It’s your first full moon and I promise nobody will blame you for not feeling or acting like yourself.”

I felt the tension in my shoulders ease ever-so-slightly. I nodded once more, reassuring him that I was in fact okay. I felt better knowing that out of all of the things that had changed, our sibling bond hadn’t. He’d be there with me to make me feel safe and to teach me control. Before long, I would be able to be just like him. I trusted him, and I knew he had faith in me. That meant only one thing: I had to have faith in me too.

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Later in the evening, as the sun was setting, I began feeling the effects of the full moon amplifying. My heartbeat was nearly erratic and Scott was nowhere to be found. I was in the bathroom, standing over the sink and looking at myself in the mirror. There was a flicker of golden yellow in my eyes, and I nearly sobbed out of pure anxiety alone. I balled my hands into fists, trying to focus on anything other than the impending sense of dread that I was experiencing. I felt a warm, slippery substance course down my wrist. Blood.

I opened my fist up, revealing four deep punctures on both of my palms, where my claws had dug into. The temporary flicker of pain was small, but enough to bring me out of the frenzy. I took this opportunity to set out to find Scott.

I didn’t remember the way to the Hale house all too well, but what I did remember was its scent. The smell of charred wood and smoke would be very hard to miss. I maneuvered my way through the darkness, making sure every step I took was careful and calculated. Scott had mentioned that Beacon Hills Preserve was littered with traps set by hunters. It was also a full moon, so I knew there would not be any shortage of hunters roaming around town tonight, hoping to catch and kill their next supernatural victim.

As if on cue, I heard voices from a distance. By the sound of it, there were maybe four or five of them, all men. I swallowed, trying to think of an escape plan. I couldn’t run. It was fall, and the weight of my body against the leaves on the ground would give my location away immediately. I could have hidden, but I knew that they probably had some sort of a thermographic camera. If they happened to get me in one of the shots, I would have considered myself dead.

I tried to weigh any and all other options, but I had none. The best chance at escape that I had right now was simply to run. They sounded far away enough so that even if they did hear me, my superhuman speed would give me an advantage. I decided that now was as good a time as any, and began moving. I tried to keep to the shadows, not daring to make any unnecessary sounds. I noticed too late that I had no idea where I was going. I looked around me, but I couldn’t pinpoint any familiar landmarks. I could have sworn that I was heading back in the direction I came, but judging by my surroundings, that wasn’t the case. I stopped for a moment, attempting to gather my thoughts.

“Come on, Serena,” I whispered to myself. “Think.”

I was jolted away from my thoughts when I saw a red light from my peripheral vision. I was frozen, completely unsure what to do. More red lights emerged from the darkness, pointing straight at me. Lasers. It was then that instinct spoke to me, telling me to run. And that’s exactly what I did.

I turned on my heel and bolted away from where the hunters had been. I didn’t take the time to care about the tracks or the noise I left in my wake. I had the advantage of speed, but they had the advantage of knowledge and experience. These were professional killers. I wouldn’t be surprised if they knew what move I’d make next even before I did. Through the commotion, I almost forgot why I had been in the woods in the first place. The fury of the full moon hit me, unforgiving. It was as if she allowed me only a few moments of peace before the storm. I looked up at the sky and the moon glimmered at its peak. Almost instantaneously I was overcome with an animalistic urge to go back and rip the head off of every single hunter that was on my trail.

My claws and fangs appeared as if by magic, and my eyes were aglow. I felt angry-- so angry. But it was that anger that gave me power. I felt strong… unstoppable. Against all rational thought, I turned back around, using my infrared eyes to see through the darkness. A few rows of trees ahead was where I spotted them. Two of them were kneeled down, examining the tracks that I had left behind, judging the direction I must have taken. The other three were behind them, standing guard. They looked around, weapons drawn, ready to fire at any given moment.

I growled. It was a sound that conveyed equal parts rage and purpose. I was hiding behind a tree, looking for the perfect moment to attack. Just as I was about to launch myself in their direction, a pair of hands snagged me from behind with tremendous force. Before I could growl or scream, the person used one hand to cover my mouth and tucked me against his chest, making sure our bodies were still shielded by the tree. I tipped my head back to see who it was, and was met with the fiery gaze of Derek Hale.

He broke eye contact first and peered over my head, trying to come up with an escape tactic. His stone cold composure made it clear that it wasn’t his first time evading death by the hands of werewolf hunters. I, on the other hand, was terrified. I felt an equal amount of shame and embarrassment once I realized how foolish I had been. It was a night of the full moon and I wasn’t in control, for one. I also felt extremely stupid for walking into woods that were infested with hunters; ones that wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet between my eyes. Another shame-inducing component was the fact that Derek just had to be the one to find me. I had gotten a brief description of him from Scott, so I knew that he was hardcore. He also hated liabilities, and at the moment, that’s exactly what I was.

“Now’s not the time to wallow in shame,” he whispered to me, his voice gruff. “If you hadn’t noticed, they’ve got us completely surrounded. It’s a miracle they haven’t seen us yet.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off. “Don’t bother denying it. The smell of embarrassment is rolling off of you like a stench.”

Your commentary isn’t exactly helping, I wanted to say to him. But I knew better than to push his buttons, especially when we were on the brink of being discovered. I kept my back against the tree, waiting for further instructions. After a few minutes, Derek finally spoke again.

He lowered his mouth next to my ear, his warm breath sending a tingling sensation onto my neck and down my back. “On my signal, you run. I’ll stay behind and cause a distraction so you can get away.” He pointed behind him to another row of trees. “Run that way. Get out of the woods as fast as you can.”

Before I could get a word out, he was gone. He roared loudly, capturing the attention of the hunters that resided a few yards away. As they ran to him, he turned back to look at me, flashing his icy blue eyes. That was my cue. I took off running in the direction he had said. I heard the commotion of the fight almost the entire way. Growls and roars from Derek’s end were met with the sound of guns firing. I found myself secretly hoping that he would be okay, although in the back of my mind I knew he would be. He was Derek Hale, after all.

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I made it out of the preserve after only a handful of minutes of running. At the end of the treeline, right where the road started, a vehicle’s headlights cut through the darkness. The closer I got, the more details I could make out. It was a blue 1980 Jeep CJ5. Standing beside it were two silhouettes, both male. I let out a sigh of relief.

I jogged the rest of the way and launched myself into Scott’s arms. He squeezed me tightly and ushered me into the Jeep. Stiles drove onto the road, taking the route that led back to my house. Scott turned to look at me from the passenger’s seat.

“Why the hell were you in the woods?” He asked. His tone was firm but still held a touch of delicacy. We both knew it was more for my sake than his. “Didn’t I tell you about the hunters? The preserve is not a safe place for a werewolf on a night of a full moon. Argent and his hunters have memorized every square inch of those woods. You’re lucky Derek found you when he did. If he hadn’t, I’m sure Gerard would’ve turned you into a human kebab by now.”

I felt my throat tighten in frustration. “The imagery really isn’t necessary. I know what I did was stupid, and I’m sorry, but I didn’t know what else to do. I felt like I was losing control and you weren’t there, Scott!” My voice caught on his name, and I had to take a few moments to collect myself. “You weren’t there and, quite frankly, I have no one else to turn to on this. I don’t have a best friend like yours. I don’t have one that’ll pick up my call in the middle of the night and be willing to be a part of the world of the supernatural. I don’t have a best friend who’ll chain me up on a full moon and help me find restraint. I was all alone in my home, which I could have easily torn apart if I had lost control of myself tonight. I was counting on you to help me, and you weren’t there.”

The air was thick with tension. I could sense the sadness emanating from both Scott and Stiles. I felt guilty for taking all of my frustration out on my brother, but everything I said was true, and I wasn’t going to apologize for how I felt. Scott was a natural leader, and I admired that about him. Being a leader meant taking on responsibilities, and I understood that he wouldn’t be around all the time. Over the weeks following my transformation, I got a chance to see just how much people needed him. Peter wanted him in his pack. Derek wanted him as an ally. Stiles wanted him as a best friend. Hell, even the lacrosse team needed him as team captain. But tonight was the one night that I needed him. I needed my brother, and he wasn’t there.

“I’m so sorry, Serena. I can do better, I promise. If you’ll just let me--” he began.

“No,” I said, cutting him off. “I don’t want to talk. Just take me home.”

With that, I turned to face the window, looking at the blur of lights, cars, houses, and dark, desolate streets passing me by. Scott sighed, but he didn’t protest.

We rode in silence the entire way back.

TAGS

@broco8

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dreaming-of-assclass · 4 years

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Oooooo if 3-E were supernatural creatures who would be what 👀👀👀

Oooohh this is interesting to think about! I’m sorry, I don’t know a lot haha so I did some research to have more options!!

Karma: Demon

I feel like I don’t need to elaborate on this too much lmao. The boy is mischievous, LOVES to mess with mortals for no reason. When he’s feeling a particularly strong emotion, usually rage, excitement, etc, his eyes glow a shade of yellow-gold (like what canon showed)

Isogai: Demi-God

His crazy perfection in everything has to come from somewhere. His father was a God who left his realm and lost his immortality to be with Isogai’s mother, a mortal. Isogai only became aware of his heritage after his father’s passing.

Okajima: Half-Angel

LMAO I mostly picked this for the irony, but it kinda fits ngl. He’s generally a good, loyal, kind person and a very good friend. His perverted nature is his one big flaw and comes from the influence of his mortal father, who was his main guardian since his mother remained on Heaven.

Okano: Werewolf

I’m gonna credit this one to @greengargouille haha. They made a wonderful post about this idea that I still adore with my whole heart. But yeah, Okano being a badass werewolf with crazy athleticism and defying femininity expectations? Yes please.

Okuda: Witch

She excels in potion-making, of course. She comes from a long line of witches and magic-users in her family. So she feels quite a bit of pressure to be successful. She’s very talented but needs a tad bit more of control in her magic.

Kataoka: Mermaid

This one shouldn’t be a surprise haha. She’s a very strong and powerful swimmer...but where does all that raw talent come from? Surprise, Megu is a mermaid and she can transform between her physical forms at will. She loves the water because it’s her home and what she knows best.

Kayano: Part-Phoenix

I don’t know how this works and how someone can be part-Phoenix lmao, but it fits her way too well. A being that goes out in flames and starts a new life...isn’t that basically what Kayano did after her reveal? Her new life is her going by Akari again and showing her true colors to the class.

Kanzaki: Goddess

She’s apart of a very royal family of gods...all with ridiculously high standards and little respect for her. Kanzaki is very powerful and has so much raw potential but she’s never been able to show it. Her best skills are teleportation, invisibility, and a strong grasp on aerokinesis.

Kimura: Centaur

I’m serious about this one lmao. He’s a very fast runner and impresses everyone, and it’s thanks to his strong physique and raw energy in centaur form. Don’t worry, he can shape-shift back to a human form, but he hates it because he loses his height and is back to being 160 cm.

Kurahashi: Fairy

Of course, this bright, sunny, cheerful sweet girl could only be a fairy. She has a very strong connection to nature and wildlife, to the point that if they’re harmed, she feels the pain. Her wings are very tiny at age 14 can easily hide underneath her clothes. But by adulthood, they’re grown and able to use for flight.

Nagisa: Half-Ghoul

Surprise...this soft boy is actually half-evil :’). His father is actually a ghoul, and Nagisa was very much unaware of it for all his life. Hiromi kept it a secret and tried to suppress that part of him too. Basically I imagine what it means for Nagisa is that death draws him, and his physiology is why he has such a high bloodlust. When he’s pushed to his limits, he’s terrifying... (cough Takaoka cough)

Sugaya: Wizard

He comes from a relatively average line of wizards, who all moved to the mortal realm and own artisan businesses. Sugaya wishes to do something similar and follow his passion for art. He mostly uses his magic for that, levitating his brushes, enhancing his work, creating new things. He’s quite talented at conjuring.

Sugino: Angel

Yes, I’m serious about this. Sugino is a very good person and always strives to lead others down the right path. He’s good at guiding, but even he wants to live for himself for once. So he learns what baseball is and grows a strong love for it.

Takebayashi: Wizard

Unlike Sugaya, he comes from a super prestigious line of successful and powerful wizards. His family is one of the top ones. He feels immense pressure to live up to them. His talents lie in fire magic, particularly creating explosions. And he’s a very skilled healer.

Chiba: Half-Dragon

Fitting considering his name 💜 He has the ability to change between his human and dragon form, but it’s very shaky for now. His eyes are a bright, terrifying shade of red, and it exposes his dragon heritage so he must hide it.

Terasaka: Half-Titan

His Titan physiology is the reason for his raw strength and physical prowess. He’s incredibly strong and has a high endurance, durability, stamina... He’s a talented fighter and will always use his advantage to protect his loved ones.

Nakamura: Siren

She hates being a siren so much. She has to deal with boring mortal guys all the time, who for some reason, love her voice. She gets a real kick out of fooling them though, and the pranks are always chaotic. Since she’s been having to sing and use her voice, she’s gotten the chance to learn many languages. She has an affinity for them, and wants to continue learning more.

Hazama: Witch

I know this is a little cliche. But in contrast to the potion-centered Okuda, Hazama excels in linguistic spells. She keeps a journal of every new one she learns, as well as images of herbs and such. She’s very interested in dark arts, but will only indulge in it with the presence of someone else, to make sure she doesn’t fall too deep.

Hayami: Witch

Wow I’m really repeating so many. Hayami is a very hardworking, talented witch. But she’s so focused on helping others, she tends to get taken advantage of unfortunately. She’s best at transfigurations, altering things to her (and others) liking. Her favorite test subject is Okajima. She’s quite talented in hand-to-hand combat and having kinetic vision, which helps in magic. She wants a cat as a familiar so badly.

Hara: Fairy

Hara says “fuck you” to the idea that fairies are traditionally small and frail. She’s proud of her physique and strength, and her interest in fighting. She’s still the sweetest fairy there could be, always looking after everyone and all of nature. She loves cooking and sharing it with as many people as she can find.

Fuwa: Ghost

Yep our crazy, lively Fuwa is a ghost! Specifically, she’s a poltergeist, the kind who try to create mischief in some way and move things around. The reason why Fuwa is kinda wild and open about her passions is so she can be noticed by people...if her presence isn’t being acknowledged, she loses her physical form and goes back to being a transparent spirit. It isn’t all bad though. Her favorite thing to do is read mangas in ghost form, so all people see is a floating copy of One Piece.

Maehara: Vampire

This one is a little cliche lmao, but he’s a vampire playboy who always ends up accidentally turning his girlfriends into vampires too with his bites. No one ever suspects him of being a vampire since he looks like sunshine incarnate. He’s quite reckless and has come close to being exposed multiple times, and Isogai always scolds him.

Mimura: Elf

Poor boy is a little insecure about being an Elf...he tries his best not to stand out, especially given his dad’s love for the spotlight. He is good at basic magic, slightly above average. His best talent and what he excels at is photokinesis. He uses it on his filming hobby, to change what’s on camera, adjust lighting, etc. He can go as far as even completely remove shadows from the sunlight.

Muramatsu: Alchemist

He comes from a relatively average family of alchemists that used their abilities for culinary purposes. He enjoys it a lot, and is very talented. He prefers to rely on physical prowess when it comes to fights, but is able to use his alchemy additionally.

Yada: Vampire

Yada is the hot vampire girlfriend we all wish we had 😔 Just kidding haha. But yes, she’s a vampire and no one would ever expect it with how good she is at hiding. She plans out her life and days to specifically avoid sunlight, garlic, etc. She’s a very busy member of the school community and has tons of friends and connections. She and Maehara, her fellow vampire, constantly compete to see who can get more dates.

Yoshida: Werewolf

This is slightly cliche since he’s the resident bad boy, but it fits. He tries to keep a tough image even in human form partly since his family taught him to do so, and because it is comfortable for him. But he’s a softie deep down, and is nowhere near as ruthless as he’s believed to be.

Ritsu: Magic Mirror?

Hmm this is kind of the only option I see fitting for her as it correlates to her role in canon. One classmate has to carry the mirror around for her to communicate, but she’s very powerful and helpful.

Itona: Mummy

Ok so storyline here: he was abandoned to die by his family centuries ago, and his 13 body was mummified against his will. In present time, Shiro awakens him, revives him, and uses him as a tool. He goes through a lot...but is able to live a peaceful life with 3-E once all that is over. He wears bandages almost everywhere, only exposing his eyes which glow yellow when he’s using his power.

Bonus:

Gakushuu is a Demi-God, of course. He’s pretty annoyed that his elemental magic only extends to hydrokinesis and cryokinesis, but he’s still amazingly talented.

Ren is a Merman who flirts with girls at the beach with sappy poetry. He’s gotten caught in a fisher net too many times.

Seo is an Ogre.

#assclass #assassination classsroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #3-E #ask #gakushuu asano #ren sakakibara #seo tomoya #fantasy au #?

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themarveledwriter · 4 years

Text

By the Light of the Moon~Part 2

Story Summery: Y/n is a vampire hasn’t told anyone about herself, her family, her history. She hasn’t even told her boyfriend. What happens when her secret is revealed in a violent manner.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Vampire!Reader

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: Angst, Sadness, Sorta asshole Steve (but his hearts in the right place), Cursing.

A/N: Here is the second part! Next part should be up soon! Not beta read.

She was gone.

Just gone.

The window completely shattered, she didn’t even slow down.

Everyone was stunned, Bucky wasn’t sure what to do. He knew he couldn’t go after her, she ran across the walkway and out the door before Bucky could even blink.

Steve came out of it the fastest, “FRIDAY lock down the building.” This made me swing around to look at him, furious with what he was doing.

“Are you still trying to stop her!? She doesn’t want to be here Steve! You pushed her to the edge and now she is gone!” Bucky says while walking towards Steve, shoving him with his last word.

“Captain Rogers, Y/n is no longer in the building.” The AI says.

Steve turned away from Bucky, “How did she get out?”

“She exited from the roof.” Bucky was the one to talk this time, “What? How did she exit from the roof?” “She jumped.” Klaus said before the AI. Both Bucky and Steve turn around to Klaus, “What do you mean she jumped? This building is 93 stories!” Bucky said, panicked.

Klaus smirked, “She’s an original vampire. She could jump off a cliff and be fine, in fact she has.”

This confused Bucky, “Original vampire?”

Klaus tilted his head, and the smirk fell from his lips. “She really didn’t tell you anything did she?” Resulting in Bucky shaking his head.

“Well, is there somewhere we can sit? It is a long story.”

Steve takes the lead on this, feeling more comfortable with having a purpose. “We can go to the common room. FRIDAY call the team down there.” Steve turns to Bucky, “I think this is something everyone should know.”

The entire team is already in the common room by the time Bucky, Steve and Klaus get down there.

When the elevator doors open everyone stands up, Sam being the first to talk.

“Who is this? Where is Y/n?”

Steve goes to answer but Klaus talks first, “I’m Klaus Mikaelson, Y/n is my sister. She’s gone.”

This time it’s Natasha’s turn to talk, “What do you mean she’s gone?” She says, worried for her friend.

Klaus steps forward, taking an empty chair, but no one else sits down.

“Well? Go on, sit. It’s a rather long story and I doubt you’ll want to stand the whole time.” Everyone slowly takes their seats, Bucky sitting next to Sam who lays a comforting hand on his shoulder. Him and Bucky may have their differences but Sam can tell when his friend is hurting.

“Alright, lets begin.” Klaus says with a smirk.

“So, as you all learned earlier, my sister is a vampire. What you didn’t know is that she is one of the first vampires in existence, along with me and our siblings. See, my mother was a witch, a powerful witch though not as powerful as her sister. My mother was barren, and made a deal with my Aunt Dahlia to be able to have children, she just had to give her first born to Dahlia. So she gave up my sister Freya and told her husband she had died from the plague. My mother had another child named Finn before they came to the New World in the 10th century when my mother was pregnant with my brother Elijah. They settled in a village where everyone was healthy and happy, we didn’t know that they were all werewolves till later, though we lived with them peacefully for years.”

Klaus stops at this, taking a breath before continuing. “I was born next, but I was born out of an affair between my mother and another villager. I wouldn’t know that until after I became a vampire. Kol came next, and then Rebecka. Lastly my mother fell pregnant with twins, Henrik and Y/n.”

Sam talks before Klaus can continue, “Y/n has a twin?”

Klaus looks down with a sad expression on his face.

“Not anymore… I was incredibly close to Henrik and Y/n, closer than to anyone else in my family. They were the youngest out of all of us and I was always more protective of them.” Klaus looks up at the group. “Henrik and Y/n were only 13 at this time… After we had discovered the people who lived around us became beasts on the night of a full moon, I became curious. I had planned to sneak out and watch them transform, which was forbidden, and when Henrik found out he wanted to come as well. Of course, Y/n being his twin came too. One of the wolves lost control, mauling Henrik. Y/n almost died as well, but was able to run from the wolf that was attacking her. Henrik died that night, from my ignorance and stupidity. It was also the night our mother decided to turn us into vampires.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to speak up, “But Y/n doesn’t look like she is 13, how old was she when she turned?”

Klaus looked at him, “Our mother performed a ritual on all of us, including Y/n, to make us stronger. She wanted to protect us. My mother's witch friend Ayana refused to do the spell, but she did make it so that Y/n would continue to age until her 18th birthday.”

“The spell made us powerful. It made us fast, strong, it gave us fangs to rival the wolves, but it also turned nature against us. The sun burned us, the neighbors that had once welcomed us into their homes could now keep us out, the flowers at the base of the tree that was used in the spell burned us and prevented compulsion,” Klaus turns to Bucky. “That’s the ‘protection’ that Y/n mentioned earlier. Do you have a bracelet or necklace that she gave you?”

Bucky was already fidgeting with the necklace Y/n had given him for their one year anniversary. It was a habit he formed after she gave it to him. A pendant with his star on it, on the back engraved in her handwriting is “You are my hero”. She said it was to remind him that his arm didn’t make him a monster.

“Yeah, this one.” Bucky says, not letting go of the necklace.

Klaus holds out his hand, “Can I see it?”

Bucky is hesitant, but ultimately agrees. Standing up and handing the pendant to Klaus, who’s skin starts smoking the second it touches his skin.

“Woah, what the hell?” Bucky says, taking back the necklace.

Klaus smirks, “Like I said, vervain burns… The only thing that can kill us is a stake made from the tree that gave us life. The white oak… Like I said, werewolf venom won’t kill original vampires. I just had no desire for my sister to be in pain until it burned out of her system. I also haven’t seen her in years, I missed her.”

“When we became vampires, Y/n was the last to turn. She was so so young and killed the person that our parents used to complete the transition. She hated herself for so long after, and has always struggled with her bloodlust… When I killed my first human not long after my transition we learned that I was part werewolf. A hybrid, but my mother suppressed my wolf side. It was only recently that I was able to unlock it, which is why I can heal a werewolf bite. A normal vampire would die from a bite without my blood.”

Steve took this time to ask Klaus, “Y/n was drinking Bucky’s blood. Is he going to turn into a vampire?” This made Klaus chuckle, “No. You would have to die with vampire blood in your system and then drink human blood to complete the transition. But vampire blood also has healing qualities, if given to a human with a fatal injury they will heal within minutes.”

Klaus stood up, “I’m going to find my sisters storage unit, is there a room I can stay in tonight?”

Tony tells him where he can stay for the night, but when he turns to leave, Bucky runs after him.

“Wait! Are we not going to look for Y/n?”

Klaus turns around, a small smile on his face. “It’s nice to know my sister has someone who cares so strongly for her, but looking for her right now is useless. If she doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be. I just hope what happened earlier doesn’t push her over the edge. She has gotten better at controlling her bloodlust but when she’s incredibly emotional she tends to struggle. We will know by morning.” This concerned Bucky. “What happens if she loses control?”

Klaus frowns at this, “Well, she will probably kill some people. That’ll cause her to have really bad guilt. If that happens I will need your help to make sure she doesn’t flip her switch.”

“What do you mean flip her switch?

“Oh I forgot about that. Vampires have this… ability. Our emotions are heightened, if the guilt or sadness gets too bad, we can turn off our humanity. It’s like this switch that we can flip. It’s incredibly hard to get someone who’s flipped their switch to turn it back on. We can’t let Y/n do that.”

That scares Bucky, “Has she done that before?”

Klaus nods, “She was the first one to do so… I feel like I should let her tell you the whole story but basically what happened was she accidentally killed someone she cared very much about. I believe that was why she was so scared when she fed from you. That person was her main form of sustenance but they were attacked by a hunter, she was severely weakened with vervain and he was seriously injured. She couldn’t control her bloodlust and he ended up dying.” This broke Bucky’s heart. He never wanted to see Y/n in pain.

“She couldn’t take the pain and the guilt. It was killing her. She wanted to die but couldn’t find a way. She somehow found out she could turn it all off. It took me decades to get her to turn it back on. She left a string of bodies from New Orleans to Los Angeles. When she turned it back on she had all that guilt as well. Everytime she has turned it off it has always been worse when she turns it back on.

Bucky felt more comfortable now. It helped him to have orders, a mission. While Klaus isn’t technically in charge of him, he knew Y/n better than Bucky. Bucky could do what Klaus asked, or at least try. He wouldn’t lose Y/n.

“I am going to find Y/n’s storage unit. You wouldn’t happen to know where it is by any chance?”

Bucky knew she had a storage unit near the tower, but he had never been to it.

“I think it’s at Manhattan Mini Storage, it’s near Hell’s Kitchen.”

Klaus nods, “Alright, I’ll be back tonight.”

He walks onto the elevator, leaving Bucky standing in the hallway.

~ ~ ~

Bucky was sitting in your room, it was almost bare because you have been slowly sneaking your stuff into Bucky’s room.

But it still smells like you.

He couldn’t believe he never noticed anything. Now that he knows he realizes there were many strange things that he always ignored.

That ring you claimed you hated but would never take off. The time you lost it and refused to leave the tower, not even going into the common room. The fact you wouldn’t go into someone’s house before being invited in. You wouldn’t even go into Bucky’s room before he told you you could.

He always thought it was because you didn’t want to spend that much time with him, that it was too personal. You had already been spending time with each other for a few weeks prior and he thought he had crossed a line.

Apparently not.

~Flashback~

Bucky had just arrived at the compound after his time in Wakanda. He was a lot more confident knowing the Soldier could no longer be triggered, but he still wouldn’t be the first to approach someone.

Y/n watched him around the compound, fascinated by the other man out of time. Her and Steve had been friends for years, and she had helped him and Sam in Romania.

When he arrived at the compound, she was one of the only people to truly try and make him feel welcome. No one was out right rude to him, but they weren’t exactly welcoming. Only Steve, Y/n and Nat would ask him to join them for supper or training.

But Y/n went above and beyond for him.

She would leave food by his door when he didn’t eat with the team. She defended him when Tony would say something.

The thing he appreciated most was the time she helped him through a panic attack.

It was when he was on trial, there was no way he would be convicted with all the Avengers behind him, but it still took a toll on his mental state.

People were able to find his files, and after the public found out how many people he killed a lot rallied against him. Calling for the death penalty.

Tony had a party after the trial was over. Inviting all the New York socialites and having Bucky as the “guest of honor” to prove that he was one of the good guys now. But all he could hear the entire night was people saying how they couldn’t believe Tony let the man who killed his parents on the team. A monster.

He was pushed close to the edge when a drunk man started asking him all these questions and accusing him of things he never did.

He was pushed over the edge when he started talking about his family. Claiming his ma and sisters would hate him for the monster he became. He was hyperventilating and about to lash out. Looking around for Steve or someone who could help him.

That’s when Y/n swooped in like a guardian angel.

The media loved Y/n, she was always helping people. Visiting children's hospitals and helping the homeless.

Which is why they didn’t care when she threw the man across the room.

She walked right between Bucky and the drunk man, telling him to back off. Bucky couldn’t understand much of what she was saying, he was too busy trying to not shut down, but the last thing he heard was the man call him a monster before Y/n had shoved him so hard he flew across the room.

She had always claimed she was a mutant. That was why she was so strong and fast, why she healed faster than him or Steve.

Next thing he knew she was leading him out of the party, arms linked.

He was gasping for breath at this point, not really noticing she was moving him until his back hit the couch. They were in a smaller common room at the tower, used as a sort of library. Bucky knew this was Y/n’s favorite room in the tower because there were days he wouldn't see her until she emerged from the library at midnight, walking into the kitchen wrapped in a fluffy blanket looking incredibly relaxed.

Not that he was looking for you.

“-ucky. You are okay. Match my breathing okay? You are just fine.” You were pressing his hand to her chest, her hand on top of his.

It's the first time they touched.

Well not the first time, they’ve trained together. Brushed shoulders in passing.

But she was purposely touching him, comforting him.

His breathing slowed down, and he was shocked when your arms were suddenly around his shoulders.

“I’m so so sorry he said those things to you.”

Your voice sounded watery, which made him push on your shoulders to see your face. Which made you panic.

“I-I’m so sorry Bucky. I know you don’t like to be touched. I should have asked before I hugged you. I was just so mad that he said those things to you!” You were aggressively wiping the tears from your face. “He had no right! He doesn’t know what you went through and the fact that he was accusing you of things you never even did! I’m so-” Bucky was smiling at this point.

“Doll, you’re rambling.”

That shut you up really quick.

A small smile slowly appeared on your face, confusing Bucky.

“Doll? You called me doll?”

“Uh… Yeah, I guess I did.” Your smile grew larger. “And don’t feel bad for hugging me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah I… I liked it.”

“Then why did you push me away?” Y/n says, tilting her head to one side. Making Bucky think of a confused puppy.

“I heard you crying doll. You should never cry over me.” At this she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around him, snuggling her face into his neck. “Everyone needs someone to cry over them sometimes.”

~End Flashback~

When Bucky came out of his mind, the sun was already rising. He quickly wiped away the tears that had fallen down his cheeks.

He didn’t realize so much time had passed, and couldn’t help but wonder where Y/n was.

Was she even in New York still?

Bucky laid back, grabbing one of Y/n’s pillows and hugging it to his body, breathing deeply.

He was dozing off, comforted by the smell of you, when FRIDAY jolted him awake.

“Sergeant Barnes, Mr. Mikaelson is back and requesting your presence in the kitchen. The rest of the Avengers are already on their way.”

Bucky jumped up quickly, needing to know if Klaus found anything, when he your favorite of his hoodies in your closet. He quickly grabs it and throws it on, comforted by the fact it smelled like you.

He made his way down to the kitchen as fast as he could, practically running once the elevator stopped.

When he made his way into the kitchen he noticed the rest of the Avengers were already there. Klaus was standing at the island with a canvas bag sitting in front of him.

Steve was the first to speak, “Why’d you call us all down here? Have you heard anything?”

Klaus looks at him, and then at Bucky. “I went to my sister’s storage unit. While I was there I got a call from my sister Freya-”

Natasha cuts him off. “I thought you said your mom gave her to your aunt in the 10th century?”

Klaus smirks, “You pay attention, nice. Incredibly long story short, my aunt discovered how to practically make herself and Freya immortal by sleeping for 100 years and then living and aging for only a year.”

“Anyway, Freya called me. She said that there were some ‘animal attacks’ on the outskirts of the town. I’m going there tonight, James is coming with me.”

Klaus started gathering the bag, but Steve puts his hand over it, stopping him.

“Bucky isn’t going anywhere with you, how do we know we can trust you.” Bucky was about to object, but Klaus started first. His face blank.

This is my sister!” Klaus says, getting angry as he said it.

“I would not do anything to risk her. I agree, you don’t know me and have no clue if you can trust me, but I will help my sister no matter what. I need James to help me with that.”

“Why does Bucky need t-”

Steve is suddenly pushed against the wall, Klaus baring his fangs at him.

“He may be the only one who can keep her from losing her humanity. He is coming with me.

Steve goes to object, but Bucky stops him. “Steve, that’s my girl. I am going with him.”

“Buck-”

“Stop. You are the one that pushed her over the edge. I will not lose her”

He turns back to Klaus, who looks overly smug.

“Is there anything you need before we go?”

Klaus nods at this, “I need a cooler, and you should pack for at least a week… Maybe longer. We will also need a car.” He says, looking at Tony.

Tony speaks for the first time, telling FRIDAY to ready a car and make sure it has a cooler in it.

“Why do you need a cooler?”

Klaus walks back over to the canvas bag on the counter, unzipping it.

“Well, I went and collected some things from Y/n’s storage unit. Let’s just say, it’s a tad perishable.”

With that he turns the bag over, ten blood bags spilling out.

“What the hell is that!?” Clint says, “Well, I know what they are… I’m in the medbay enough to know that, but why do you have them?”

Klaus looks at him, “Take a wild guess.”

He looks at Bucky, “She’s feeding on people, we need to get her back on blood bags as soon as possible. She may not be a ripper but she is in such an emotional state that we don’t need to risk her seriously hurting someone.” He finishes with a pointed look at Steve.

“Sir, the car is prepped.”

Klaus looks at Bucky.

“Go pack, we have a long drive ahead of us.”

Taglist (Open):

@tranquility-or-chaos @21st-century-daydreamer @winterboobear11 @theycallmemrsbarnes @notawritergettingtherethough

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vampirrediaries · 4 years

Text

Enemies Of The State : Dark!Klaroline {7}

summary:

This fiction follows the events of just how Klaus Mikaelson and Caroline Forbes lost everything that tied them to their humanity, leading them into something neither of them can come back from.

—————

{10 years ago}

Caroline Forbes felt a degree of satisfaction when she finally packed her things. Just the necessities, of course. Hair curler, clothes, blood bags and vervain in case any vampire’s attempted to get in her way. She could annoyingly name a few, which is why she needed to get out of here as fast as she could.

Not that she was scared of fighting off her supernatural counterparts. No, Caroline just couldn’t be bothered with the whole ordeal. New York was only a few hours away, and the sooner she left the better.

She was zipping up her suitcase when her eye caught something. That wretched piece of parchment on which she was perfectly drawn. Caroline scoffed. Guess she could thank Klaus for one thing. If he hadn’t drawn that, she would still be a girly little vampire with her humanity in tact. She quickly stuffed it in one of her bags, paying no mind to it after that.

Caroline thought it was pathetic, really, how she couldn’t keep him out of her head even with her emotions turned off. Whatever, it’s not like i’m gonna see him again.

With all of her things packed and ready to go, Caroline hastily went out the door, throwing her suitcase in the backseat of her car when she reached it. Slamming the door shut, she looked over her home with lifeless eyes from the drivers seat, not knowing that this was one of the last times she would ever see it. Not that she cared, anyways.

With that being done, Caroline started up the engine, finally driving away to the freedom she so craved.

***

Elena Gilbert’s home was only full of silence as they stood in the wake of Caroline’s outburst.

“Who knew Caroline had that in her.” Damon spoke up in efforts to diffuse the silence. Nobody knew the right thing to say, and why would they? The sweet blonde girl they all knew was gone without a trace.

“She’ll get over whatever she’s going through,” Bonnie began to reason “I mean it’s Caroline. What harm could she do?” Elena whisked her head around, beginning to take in the reality of what had just happened.

“It’s Klaus. It’s his influence,” the Doppelgänger said thoughtfully “She wouldn’t be like this is she had some sense to leave him alone.” The room hummed in unision, silently agreeing with Elena.

“What else did all of you expect? She’d go to the first man to call her pretty. It’s kinda sad, actually,” Damon said with disdain as he made his way to the couch. Elena shot him a look, but didn’t bother defending her friend because she silently agreed with the words coming out.

Everyone did.

“I just can’t believe Klaus of all people,” Elena complained “He tried to kill me multiple times. How could she be so careless?”

“I actually thought she had better taste,” Damon said amusedly, a hostile look in his eyes “I mean she did go for me-”

“I never knew how hypocritical all of you were until now.”

Stefan Salvatore finally spoke up, his tone was as fed up as they’d ever heard him. The room turned their heads in unison, taking in the words that were spoken with surprise.

Damon immediately stood up from the couch, his expression an amused one as he walked towards his only sibling. “Go ahead and enlighten us, brother” His eyes shone with a twisted curiosity “On how we are the hypocrites.”

Stefan scoffed, shaking his head as he walked past Damon. He needed to say this to everyone, because it wasn’t just his older brother that was acting like he was completely innocent and wouldn’t dare cause harm, but all of Caroline’s former friends.

“I don’t know if all of you have realised this, but pray tell me how it’s Caroline who always gets thrown aside because she fell for somone who actually chose her for once. Is it because all of you have promised to make her feel so guilty for everything she does?”

“Are you even listening to yourself right now?” Elena spoke up with disbelief, approaching the vampire with shallow steps. “She betrayed us! She fell for a monster who killed-”

“Yeah, because you’re so innocent” Stefan scoffed “Damon’s killed more people than I have, and yet nobody pushed you to the side when you’ve been with us both.”

The raven haired vampire’s amused look was gone as if it were never there, hostility quickly replacing his features.

“That’s different!” Elena hissed, rage filling her by the second “The pair of you aren’t like that anymore. Your jealous that i broke up with you, and that’s why you’re trying to hurt me”

“Oh spare me. You’re the last thing on my mind these days,” Stefan shot back venomously “And what’s your excuse for someone known as Kol Mikaelson? Because last time I checked, he’s still a cold-hearted murderer-”

Damon flashed towards his brother in an instant, cutting him off. His eyes were a deadly calm as the bore into Stefan’s.

“I wouldn’t say another word, brother.”

Elena looked at a loss for words, silent anger was the only thing she could feel at that name. Stefan wasn’t finished with what else he had to say, either. He wanted the whole group to know just what they had done to Caroline Forbes for the time they’d known her, but as soon as he could get out another word, the door suddenly flew open.

Everyone’s widened eyes were on Rebekah Mikaelson as she walked into the angst driven living room. She was slightly bloody looking over the group with seriousness. She only saw incredulous stares, her being the last person anyone thought they’d see tonight.

“We have a problem.”

————

Klaus Mikaelson’s rage echoed through the mansion as he threw an empty glass on the far side of the wall, screaming.

“I will hunt him down to his bloody death,” Klaus seethed as his rage went to other limits “I want him in a coffin if he dares touch her!”

Kol Mikaelson didn’t look fazed as he saw his this take place. He expected him to be like this, but it didn’t mean dread didn’t fill him up. Klaus would unleash hell on earth if something dared happen to Caroline Forbes, and Kol happened to like earth the way it was. It was why he was so adamant on keeping Katherine alive, to avoid such events from ever occurring.

“Let’s not be rash, brother” He approached the rageful hybrid slowly, making sure not to rile him up any further. “We don’t know if Elijah has gone to kill the girl for sure.”

“Oh, pray tell me Kol,” Klaus hissed venomously “Where would our brother possibly go the minute he heard Katerina was nothing but a pile of bones?”

“Her friends won’t possibly let him kill her-”

“Her incessant friends don’t care for her,” Klaus growled as he cut him off, fangs lengthening by the second as his strong emotions overtook him.

He was a fool for ever leaving her, thinking it was for her betterment. He should’ve taken her with him, and she would’ve came as well. She gave him a chance, and he betrayed her in the cruelest of ways. His heart clenched as he recalled her utterly broken voice that poured her soul to him over a phone call, when he should’ve been there in person.

You promised. You promised you’d be here.

No, Klaus Mikaelson didn’t deserve Caroline Forbes. He didn’t deserve to be her last love. But damn him if anything harmed his light.

Before Kol could stop him, the ruthless Hybrid had already flashed away to save his Caroline’s fate. He would kill everyone and everything that stood in his way of getting to her, and if he had to to desiccate his brother to ensure that she was still breathing, he wouldn’t think twice about the ordeal.

————

Caroline was on her way to sweet freedom when her phone started buzzing halfway through the journey. She rolled her eyes, carelessly throwing the ringing thing in the backseat. Whoever it may be, they would only stand in her way. She just couldn’t have that now, could she?

Her hand was occupied with a blood bag while the other was on the steering wheel, effortlessly guiding the car through the streets of a small town she’d came into on her way. She slyly smirked to herself. There was no reason she shouldn’t get a head start. Caroline felt her throat tighten with starvation for that red ecstasy straight from the vein, feasting her eyes upon the walking flesh and blood that crowded the pavements.

She impatiently got out of the car, slamming the door behind as she stiffly began walking in efforts to find somewhere witnesses won’t be present. It was a dreary little place, reminding her too much of her former home. Whatever, she would just drain the life out of a poor, unexpecting human and be done with it. It would suppress her urges for the rest of the way.

Caroline’s eyes suddenly caught a boy, walking down an abandoned alley as calmy as ever. He only looked thirteen. She didn’t care. She just wanted blood, and blood is what she’ll get no matter who it came from.

Bloodlust surged through her now, snapping into focus as quickly as ever as she flashed towards the boy. The poor soul looked up quickly, innocence protruding from his expression as his eyes bore into Caroline’s darkening one’s questioningly. She didn’t say a word as she felt the familiar feeling of fangs growing from her incisors.

The boy slightly parted his mouth to as if he was about to say something, or to scream. She didn’t know, because she instantly plunged her deadly weapons into his neck before he could dare draw attention. Holding her hand tightly across his mouth, she drank greedily. Her body felt alive and euphoric, the feeling all vampire’s fought to chase.

Her victim slowly stopped the muffled sounds of violent protest and pain, falling limp as death neared. Caroline sickeningly revelled in the heart barely pumping blood now, drinking until it was all gone, and so was he. Dropping the corpse on the ground carelessly, just like she did with her first victim, the vampire was far from feeling remorse. All she felt, and all she wanted to feel, was the thrill of the hunt rushing through her every nerve.

Leaving the corpse where it was, Caroline wiped her mouth with her sleeve in order to not cause attention to herself. Sure, the mangled body was a factor, but she’d be long gone before it was found. She quickly made her way to the car, getting in the drivers seat as she started the engine. The car hummed as it drove away from where she’d committed a murder that was hopefully first of many.

A twisted, sadistic smile appears on Caroline’s face as she drove. See, she knew that this was the point of no return. She finally let her true self out to play, and after pushing it deep inside the darkest crevices of her mind, finally letting it fully consume her whole being felt like power.

She loved it.

——��———

masterlist

#tvd #klaroline #katherine pierce #klaus mikaelson #klaroline fanfiction #the vampire diaries fanfiction #enemies of the state #tvd fanfiction #elena gilbert #the originals #the originals fanfiction #the originals imagines #dark!klaroline #kai parker #legacies

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strawberry-skies-xx · 4 years

Text

you wingless thing

C H A P T E R E I G H T

tags: rape/non-con, dead dove: do not eat, geralt / jaskier, original female character, original male character, angst with a happy ending, angst, angst and feels, rape, past rape/non-con, implied/referenced rape/non-con, implied/referenced abuse, emotional hurt/comfort, psychological abuse, emotional abuse, emotionally repressed, fae jaskier, fae magic, hurt jaskier, torture, revenge, past torture, hurt/comfort, past abuse, jaskier whump, feral jaskier, creature jaskier, inhuman jaskier, eventual happy ending, love confessions, idiots in love, wing kink, homoerotic wing grooming

author’s note: feral jaskier, jaskier + panic attacks, jaskier + rape/noncon, and geralt along for the ride, being comforting and pining for his fae bard. around two chapters left, i think?

scheduled mondays, wednesdays, thursdays

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Geralt wakes, gets dressed, and is finally allowed downstairs, where the servant brings him to the dining hall and he finds Nyla and Jaskier already sitting there.

Or- Nyla is sitting. Jaskier is kneeling by her feet, and Geralt is instantly fully alert and awake, anger rushing through him and shocking his systems alive. The fear, which has become the most familiar scent to Geralt recently and has become nearly a standard part of Jaskier’s scent, also helps with waking Geralt suddenly up.

He takes a seat next to Nyla and is handed a plate of food - which, he really does try to eat, but Nyla’s poisonous, dark smile and the way she hand-feeds Jaskier, and he goes along with it without an argument, doesn’t help with his appetite. Geralt would wonder what’s changed, but he’s pretty sure the way Nyla left last night with Jaskier tells him everything he needs to know about what changed and what Nyla did to Jaskier.

Nyla notices, of course she notices, and her tone hides warning beneath it. “Not eating your food?” she asks. Geralt glances up, eyes flicking down to where Nyla feeds Jaskier a strawberry, and he swallows.

“No. Not hungry,” he replies shortly.

Nyla’s smile widens, growing impossibly darker. “Eat,” she says, with no room for argument.

So Geralt eats, forces down the urge to throw it all up, and watches the servants take the plates away. Nyla stands up, Jaskier following her, and she waves Geralt on. He reluctantly follows, and they walk through several hallways before emerging into bright daylight and a stone path, leading them through a garden overflowing with life - both magical and real. The flowers are far too vibrant to be real, but the plants themselves are, and their growth is (mostly) real.

Nyla smiles, her arm slipping possessively around Jaskier’s waist again. Geralt sees the fae tense, fear rolling off of him in acrid waves and burning Geralt’s nose. He thinks he’s become quite good at suppressing his instincts to fight - forget Kaer Morhen, if there was any training to teach him control over his instincts, this had to be the most effective. Seeing Jaskier so afraid, so weak, made a bloodlust arise in Geralt like he hadn’t felt since he’d first become a full Witcher, reflexes and senses honed to a dangerous point - which he has never wanted to use more than right now.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Nyla says, but her eyes aren’t on the flowers. Jaskier nods, staying unsettlingly silent, and she grins, sending a glance back at Geralt.

“Yes,” he grits out when she raises an eyebrow expectantly. She gives a satisfied nod and turns back to face the front.

They continue walking, spending most of the day in the garden where Jaskier’s fear permeates the air and Geralt nearly sees red with anger, and by noon Nyla forces them to have lunch with her before locking them back in their rooms and, presumably, leaving them alone for the day.

Jaskier starts shaking almost as soon as she leaves, panicked blue eyes turning to Geralt, who freezes, unsure of what to do. His wings fold in tightly against his back and he wraps his arms around himself. “Geralt, she- she-“

He chokes off and Geralt steps forward, reaching slowly out. He has no idea what to do, he’s probably as terrified as Jaskier is, but he has to do something, and the way Jaskier leans into his touch as he circles his arms around him suggests he’s doing it right.

“She touched my wings,” Jaskier whispers after a few moments, when both his voice and his body have stopped shaking so much. “She made me- made me feel pleasure from them, and-“ he pauses, swallows. Geralt surreptitiously moves his arms away from Jaskier’s wings, learning that they’re something of an intimate part of his body.

“She taunted me with her magic. Kept me on edge for hours, told me how I was weak and she was strong and I was- was supposed to be a pet, was born for it. A pretty thing for people to admire and touch,” he continues. Geralt tenses up.

Jaskier looks up, eyes widening, and pulls away when Geralt tenses up - he lets him, arms falling easily away when Jaskier steps back. He’d never cage the fae, because he knows birds are meant to fly, and anyway, he’s the most beautiful when he’s free. Nyla doesn’t know what she’s missing, making him miserable by caging him. Geralt would rather be able to watch Jaskier be free from afar than never have him, if this is what it did to him.

“Sorry,” Jaskier breathes, blue eyes wide and an overwhelming blend of panic, anxiety, and fear rolling off of him in waves. “Sorry, I didn’t- didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Geralt frowns. “Jaskier, you could never make me uncomfortable.”

The fae relaxes slightly, though he still looks doubtful, and Geralt sighs. “You can tell me anything,” he says - because he can. Geralt would do so much for Jaskier, far more than he’d like to admit. Listening to what Nyla did to him was only a trivial part of making Jaskier feel better.

Jaskier runs a hand through his hair, wings fluttering anxiously. Geralt resists the urge to step forward and touch, knowing that it will probably do more harm than good.

“Do you know what wings and other features like them mean to fae?” he asks suddenly, and responds before Geralt can, a slightly hysterical light in his eyes. “They’re- they’re intimate. If I had my magic, I wouldn’t even make them visible to anyone but who I trusted. It’s not- they’re not supposed to be seen, or touched, unless I want them to. And this- she made me-“

He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair again. Geralt stays still - he wouldn’t know what to do even if he was allowed, and confident enough, to touch.

Jaskier looks up now, meeting Geralt’s eyes, and his blue eyes are wide and panicked. Distantly, Geralt thinks fuck it and moves forward without thinking, wrapping his arms around Jaskier - without touching his wings, Geralt carefully makes sure of. The fae melts into him, burying his face in his shirt, and anyone else wouldn’t have felt the slight trembling of his body, or the whisper-breath litany of curses coming from his mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Geralt is silent. He doesn’t know what to say, anyway, and he’d most likely make it worse. It’s a miracle already that Jaskier is withstanding his touch for so long, and when he’s in such a fragile mindset. Geralt considers stepping away, but Jaskier seems to be relaxing where he is, the scent of anxiety and panic slowly bleeding from his scent as his breaths even out, and Geralt decides he’ll stay where he is.

Jaskier stops shaking several minutes later, and Geralt drops his arms. The faint scent of disappointment reaches Geralt’s nose, before it disappears and Jaskier steps back, turning away and moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Let’s just go to sleep. And-“ he starts pulling at the sheer dress Nyla had put him in, an overwhelming assault of emotions flooding into his scent, “get this fucking dress off of me,” he says, almost growls. He throws the dress across the room when he finally pulls it off, and stares at it for several moments before sighing and dropping his head in his hands.

Geralt doesn’t say anything, only walks to his side of the bed and pulls the covers aside, sliding underneath them. Jaskier doesn’t move.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says quietly.

There’s a small hitch of breath, and Geralt thinks Jaskier is crying, before he takes his hands away from his face and his voice comes out rough. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He swings his legs up on the bed and rolls to his stomach, pillowing his head on his hands.

Geralt turns his head, meeting Jaskier’s blue eyes, and the fae gives a small, sad smile before spreading one wing, draping it over Geralt like a heavy, heated, feathered blanket. It’s familiar, and Geralt lets the corner of his lips quirk up for half a second before he closes his eyes, feeling Jaskier’s scent slowly flood with dandelion-happiness amidst the anxiety and panic before his breathing evens out, body relaxing into the mattress. Geralt lets sleep take him soon after, finding this small point of contentment in the mess that is their life right now.

Jaskier wakes up at dawn - he’s formed a habit of doing that now - almost two weeks after the banquet. Almost two weeks after Nyla had first brought him to her room and shown him just how cruel she could be, just how much she’d desired him. At this point, Jaskier couldn’t tell which nightmares were his and which were brought on by Nyla’s magic, which hummed around him constantly, like a pesky insect. He might have lost his magic temporarily, but he had not lost the other inhuman aspects of him - wings, for one. His inhuman grace, quicker reflexes, sharper senses… and the ability to sense magic.

And Jaskier has quite come to look forward to destroying Nyla’s magic when he has the chance.

He slides on the dress she picked for him today, shivering and shoving down the burst of panic as the magic slides into place, feeling as if it’s cutting his wings off in one cold, efficient slice. In any other circumstance, he would’ve felt powerful in the exquisite fabric, which was a shining sapphire blue with gold highlights that he knew brought out his eyes, contrasted nicely with his pale skin and dark hair, and made him look like the worst temptation - in the best way.

Now, though, he feels like a meal being prepared for ravenous wolves. And not the sexy kind of meal, and not the sexy kind of wolf.

He sighs before sliding into the chair and applying makeup, angling his face to his reflection in the mirror for perfect lines. Nyla had told him in bed last night that she wanted him to have makeup tomorrow, and though he was in a post-coital haze, he couldn’t forget the warning tone in her voice for the rest of the night and into the morning if he tried. It repeats in his head like a bad song, and he wonders, with no small sense of dread, why she’d want him in makeup after most of the time they have with her was spent without it.

Fifteen minutes later, he finishes and looks over at Geralt, who’s still sleeping. The gold light of dawn shines over his face, highlighting his white hair and the dips and curves of his skin in pale gold. He looks beautiful like this, Jaskier thinks, and he desperately wants to touch. He wants to spend the morning in bed with Geralt, taking apart and being taken apart, instead of meeting a manipulative sorceress’s sadistic appointments.

But, he doesn’t always get what he wants, so he stands up from his chair and leaves the room, closing the door as quietly as possible behind him. The servant locks it, and Jaskier turns, walking down the hallway and downstairs.

Nyla meets him in the downstairs dining room, which is suspiciously devoid of any breakfast dishes, and her eyes scan down his body appreciatively, a smirk curling her lips. Jaskier puts on his neutral mask, smoothing out all expression save for when he glances away at her gaze, shifting uncomfortably.

She returns her eyes to his and her smile grows. “I have a treat for you today,” she purrs, before turning around and walking away. He follows her, a strange sense of dread rising in him at the way she says treat, giving him the feeling as if it’s anything but.

Nyla opens two grand double doors to a large room, filled with at least a dozen nobility of various genders and dressed in such clothing that it makes Jaskier realize very suddenly what they want from him.

He freezes behind Nyla, wants to run but he can’t because the doors slam and lock behind him, and the nobility and Nyla all are staring at him like he’s prey. One of the lords walks forward while Jaskier is frozen, breaths coming shorter, and he flinches when the lord’s hand tangles in Jaskier’s hair and pulls, tugging his head back and baring his throat.

Jaskier can barely breathe. “Hmm, pretty thing isn’t he?” the lord asks, a smirk curling his lips as his finger traces down Jaskier’s neck, making him shiver involuntarily. “We’ll have fun with him.”

Suddenly the fog is broken and Jaskier growls softly, feeling his rage spark up like a bonfire, and moves faster than any of them can process. The lord is on the ground in an instant, one hand cupping his sensitive parts and the other pressed against his jaw, which Jaskier had uppercutted. He turns to the rest of them, feeling adrenaline course through him and the faint whisper of his magic brush against him - there, and responsive, but unreachable.

Nyla glares and he feels her magic whip against his skin in warning, stinging but leaving no mark. He doesn’t back down - he will not let them have their way with him so easily. He was never one to submit easy, and to multiple people? To nobility? He’d rather die than be stripped of that dignity.

“Songbird,” Nyla warns, but Jaskier is already moving again, landing two more hits in two of the nobles before her magic crashes into him, rendering him frozen in place. He glares at her, letting a snarl rise in his throat as she keeps him held still.

He can feel his rage and adrenaline coursing through him, and Nyla is lucky that she has him weak, otherwise he would have embraced his true fae nature for the first time in years and, possibly, have decorated the room in blue blood. Jaskier knows he can’t do it now, though he will bide his time. Nyla can’t run forever, especially when she takes the enchantments and the collar off, and when she does…

He hopes she knows to run, and he hopes she knows she won’t succeed.

For now, his rage is only tempered by the fact that her magic hums around him, pinning him in place, and one of the noble lords - not from before - walks up to him, smirking when he realizes Jaskier’s predicament. “You’re caught, songbird,” he sneers.

Jaskier smiles, though it’s more like a baring of teeth - he knows his teeth are just a little on the wrong side of too sharp, and the lord falters. “You’re lucky I am,” he replies, not bothering to hide the threat in his tone.

The lord is quiet for all of a moment before he gets over his fear and sneers, anger at Jaskier’s defiance causing him to tangle his fingers in his hair and pull Jaskier’s head back, tugging until it’s painful and Jaskier lets out a sharp gasp.

“I can think of better things to do with that mouth,” he says, shoving Jaskier down on his knees.

Nyla smiles, her magic humming around Jaskier, and his rage simmers like a low flame.

The nobles descend on him, and Jaskier thinks of all the ways he’ll make Nyla pay.

next chapter >>

#the witcher netflix #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier

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demonsofhunting · 5 years

Text

All My Sins - Chapter 10

Pairing: priest!Cas x demon!Dean

Summary: After they found each other again, Dean and Cas are everything but willing to be seperated for a second time. One day, after the priest left early to go to mass, Dean encounters another demon…

Warnings: some fluff, angst

Words: about 1700

A/N: There it is! Finally! *sigh* Again, I'm so damn sorry, guys, my freaking laptop refused to work for days, urgh...but anyway - I finally managed to post it, yay! XD This chapter was one of my favs to write so far...I love writing from Dean's POV, sometimes. Okay, maybe I enoy it a little bit too much...but just a little bit...

Anyway, I hope you'll like it! Enjoy! <3

Catch up here ( Masterlist ) :D

Days go by and by...again. But this time, Castiel is everything but alone. Dean is with him, and that gives the priest much hope. We can get through this. And they really try their best. They sleep next to each other, every night. Cas tells Dean about all the things that happened when he was gone. The policeman that stood in front of his door. What the priest told him, and all the others that followed after the first one. Meg. When he does that, the young man's jaw clenches a little in anger, but after a few heartbeats he brushes it off with a gentle gesture, and never speaks of it again. Cas isn't really sure what he should think of that, but the other just kisses his cheek, muttering: "I'm so sorry that I left you, Cas. It will never happen again, I promise." And the worries are gone. Well, almost. Furthermore, Dean can't go out on the street any longer, it would be way too dangerous. What if someone notices, and alarms the police? That's a risk both of them can't take. And the young man understands. He stays inside, every single day. Castiel knows that it makes him everything but happy, that Dean feels kinda trapped in here, but that's the only thing they can do at the moment. In fact, the priest has literally no idea how long they can keep doing this shit, anyway. Hell, what if Meg really did what she said and told everyone about my secrets? But everything stays silent within the next few weeks, even though Cas winces every time his doorbell rings, and he shakes every time he needs to go out for a supply run. He goes to mass as well, tries everything to make it look normal and unsuspicious. He almost breaks every single day, but with his love near to him he is willing to keep going. And Dean does his best to make it as easy for him as he can. But Castiel can see the struggle and the desire behind the other's eyes...the darkness that comes and goes. What the hell have we done? It's just a matter of time until everything collapses above our heads, smashing our skulls with its weight... But what are they supposed to do instead?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It's an early sunday morning. The sun is shining through the curtains of the window at Castiel's apartment, softly. It touches Dean's face with its gentle light, making him open his eyes, slowly. "Cas?" he asks, his voice still raspy and sleepy, looking around. The first thing he notices, is that he is the only one who is lying in the other's bed. Cas is gone Maybe he already left to do his priest stuff... Dean blinks, yawning. The last night was terrible. He can't stop dreaming of...all these situations where he killed somebody. Sometimes, they're slightly different. Worse. He isn't able to count anymore how many times he ripped this one woman's heart out in his imagination. Way too many times. But well, at least I haven't done it in reality, right? I'm not even sure. Fuck. Maybe I did. As long as these are just some stupid dreams and not the reality, he's willing to deal with it. In fact, he feels way more safe around Cas than he has ever felt around anyone. He really is my anchor. Damn it. The young man smiles, stretching his limbs. Then he gets out of bed, observing his environment. He swallows, a shiver is running down his spine. Something is different. It is everything but fear that flows through his body, as he notices that. It's more like a strange lust. Bloodlust. He narrows his eyes, tilting his head. Dean's sure that he isn't alone right now. But it's not Castiel. He gets up, quietly, looking around, carefully. He feels like a fox chasing its prey. And believe me, the prey is near... He starts to walk a few steps. Everything looks just like they left it the last evening. Well, except Cas' shoes are missing, as well as his coat. But that's not the thing that doesn't fit into the picture. It's a normal thing to do for the priest to leave for mass on sundays without waking Dean up. It's...something different. A unknown presence. The sound of a beating heart near him, coming right from... With a fast gesture, Dean opens the door that leads to the kitchen, just to find it empty. But there's a familiar smell in there... The young man smiles, widely. "You really like playing games, don't ya?" he purrs, breathing in, deeply. Yeah, I'm sure. She is right behind me. "You know that I do," a female voice says behind his back. Dean turns around, looking at the woman that is standing near the front door, smiling. His gaze wanders over her dark hair, the eyes that are flashing black, immediately...the red lips. Just as pretty as I remember. "Honey! What are you doing here?" he asks, stepping closer. She cocks her head. "I'm just checking after you. Am I not allowed to do that?" she mutters, her voice filled with false innocence. "No, you're not. But you already know that, right? I told you a couple of times that I don't like being followed, Meg", he adds, rolling his eyes. He grabs her wrist, firmly. "What if you just go and do whatever you like ad long as it doesn't bother me or Cas? I know what you did to him. Actually, I would love to slit your throat right now," he says, and he can feel his eyes flashing black. It's a special feeling. On the one hand,he hates it, because it feels so damn good...on the other hand, he kinda loves it. When it happens, he feels...unbelievable strong, like nothing can stop him. She laughs. It's a cold laugh. "Oh, you're so cute when you're angry, Winchester. I really enjoyed playing with your boyfriend. He's such a sweetheart. I would love to continue to do so. Maybe, I'll catch him after he comes out of church. Since you're trapped in here, you couldn't do much about - " she chuckles, but gets interrupted by Dean grabbing her throat, and slamming her back against the wall. "You won't do anything to him, you understand?!" he hisses, anger raging in his chest like an unstoppable force, "He's mine! I need him! I - I love him, for God's sake!" "Urgh, how touching," she scoffs, and with a simple turn of her wrist she pushes him back, heavily. He can feel the air being pressed out of his lungs, as his back hits the opposite wall from her. "You're such a bitch, Meg," he growls, squinting his eyes in suppressed pain, "Stay the hell away from us. Or I swear to God, I'll kill you!" "Awww," she scoffs, shaking her head with a pout. Then she claps her hands, and shifts, slightly. "Anyway, that's not what I'm here for. Actually, I was searching for you, not for Father Innocence," she begins, seriously. Dean clenches his jaw. I'm going to kill her... "And?" he growls, balling his fists. "Well," she continues, "I'm here to ask you to come with me. Honey, you can't fight it any longer. It's who you are. That's the price you have to pay for your deal. All we want is for you to finally live like one of us. We need you." Her voice is as sweet as honey, and her black eyes are drawing him in with a strong force. "Stop lying, asshole," he says, firmly, "I'm not going anywhere. I will stay with Cas as long as I can - I will fight for him, okay? And you and your stupid hellhounds won't make me give in until I decide that I'm done. Do you copy? Or shall I carve it into your skin?" Meg's facial expression is getting cold: "You're so stubborn, Winchester. I enjoy that, but my boss doesn't. It will bite you in the ass, trust me." "Oh," Dean laughs, throwing his hands in the air, "Then what are you going to do now? Tell eveverything about Cas' secrets? Or mine? Run to the police? Go ahead, do it. But due to the fact that you haven't done anything serious yet - besides molesting my boyfriend - makes me wonder why. Maybe, because you can't. I don't know why, but you can't. As you said before, you need me. But I'm not going to help you in any way. So, fuck off." He tilts his head with a cocky smile, enjoying seeing her face turn red in anger. "You -" she begins to rant, but that's when he walks past her to open the front door. With a soft gesture, he waves her through. "Yeah. Me. Now fly away, little bird. And if you don't plan to come with some more forces than just your boring self soon, I won't do anything in your favour. Tell your stupid boss that he can fuck himself." She just snorts, raises her chin, and steps out of the apartment. "I hate you, Winchester," is all she hisses over her shoulder, "It will all backfire on you, trust me. And I will enjoy watching you burn in hell where your ass belongs." "Sure. See ya down there, I think," Dean nods, rolling his eyes. Then he closes the door behind her. He leans against it for a couple of seconds, listering to his heartbeat. As long as I'm human, I'll keep fighting. I will show them what it means to beat the hell out of hell. Dean blinks until he can feel his eyes flashing back to their normal, forest green colour. He stays with the back to the door for a few minutes, until he almost gets startled by someone unlocking the door from the other side. The young man steps back. He already knows who is standing on the other side. The door opens, and Castiel looks at him with surprise in his blue eyes. The priest steps in, closing the door behind him, carefully. Dean has to smile at the other's messy hair, and his open mouth. He looks hella cute. "What are you doing here, Dean?" Cas asks, already breathing faster, "Did anybody found out? Are they waiting for me?" Dean chuckles, and kisses his boyfriend on the cheek. "No. Don't worry, sweetheart," he mutters, "Nothing happened. We're safe."

( A/N: CHAPTER ELEVEN <3 )

That was chapter ten! Thank you so much for reading, and if you would like to leave a comment ore reblog this shit, I will love you forever! <3

Destiel/Forever Tags: @adoptdontshoppets @rebeloftheseas @ablavalba @smodernlife @ignis-glaciesque @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel @xsghn @helpmeluci @trenchcoatsandfreckles @legendary-destiel @leahslovelylibrary

'All My Sins' Tags: @emodestielshipper @emumag @waywardtricksterangel @didntwanderstillgotlost @angel-e-v-a @burnigontheceiling @too-old-for-fangirling-but-idc

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ofpandemcnium · 4 years

Text

the realm of kaerdia isle is proud to welcome LUNAFREYA, the RIPPED SOUL / HUNTER. as a WITCHER, SHE has been said to be PATIENT, PRACTICAL, and HARDWORKING before although others have said that SHE can be DISHONEST, CALCULATING, and UNREPENTANT as well. FREYA is said to resemble DANIELLE ROSE RUSSELL, except maybe when SHE is CALM. just TWENTY-ONE ( NINE HUNDRED TWENTY-THREE ) years old, LUNA has called kaerdia isle home for ON AND OFF SEVEN YEARS.

i’m very vague when it comes to intros, i know xd

she was a Child Surprise of cat witcher, claimed at the age of four.

after being brought to ‘home’ of cats witchers, she began being trained like any other kid that was going to be a witcher.

she was one of the “experimental” batch ; every few years, mages tried to upgrade the formula that was used to mutate witchers. they tried to selective emotions, suppress or intensify it depending on how useful it would be, also tried to ‘perfect’ the healing side.

they only partially suppressed some of her emotions, successfully intensifying her anger and bloodlust ( yay typical kitty you could say ) . the problem was her moods, switching quickly and impulsive, making her a danger to these around and herself.

she was kept in the school for the next fifty years, which how they discovered the side effect of her body not aging anymore. using many experiments *cough* tortures *cough* , it was clear that it didn’t affect anything else than her look.

one of the older witchers, the softspoken, nice one, named her luna.

she was going out and cleaning the territory around the school, keeping few towns safe but never wandering much away, always under watchful eyes of others, trying to discipline herself.

after another painful and failed experiment, she decided to get on The Path, as true witcher should, beginning her travel at the age of 115

now, as her “school” was destroyed through years, she made the kaerdia her home base, coming back and staying for weeks or months, depending on how much the Path was roughing her up

have typical witcher skills / cat eyes / dark eyes when on potions etc

drinks poisonous potions yeah

kitty witcher ! thought she is trying to not break much of the code when she does - don’t really regret it

a lot of scars, all over her body

don’t touch her swords, she will bite and in a not-fun way

or her daggers

Tired & Done With This World pretty much

will add more in headcanons !

#* ― Ⅵ. ▹「 ❛ LUNAFREYA ― INTRO . ❜ 」#kihq.intro #weapon tw #knife tw #death tw #child abuse tw #torture tw #i think?#* i tried to be very vague for both #* apparently zev still not going to get his intro wow xd

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goth-albino-angel · 5 years

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I was looking through my D1 fic document of all the partially written stories I've had since the first movie, and I just found, in no particular order

-a fic in which the evil actually does run in Mal's family and plants thoughts in her head to make her evil

-Mal's a half dragon and is in love with Evie. That is all. That's the fic.

-Mal grows wings and takes her girlfriend on nighttime flights. It's a cute oneshot

-Oh look. Smut.

-Mal and Evie want some privacy so during summer vacation they fuck off to the other side of Auradon to do some sightseeing and enjoy their relationship

-Mal, Evie, Jay, and a handful of my Descendants OCs are forced to suppress their magic due to Auradonian law and it causes nasty side effects for all of them while at the same time a relative of the bad guy from the Swan Princess (which I don't THINK is Disney) plots to take over and also Mal's got wings and a tail and scales and horns and I was taking this dragon thing to the extreme before the second movie even came out y'all

-More smut.

-Hey! There's bloodlust!Mal! I forgot how early I had gotten started on Integrating into Auradon.

-Oh yeah, the one where Mal calls Leah and Chad out on Family Day after Chad... pulls a Chad and Leah was a bitch.

-Hey! There's a cute bedtime story in here that Mal is telling to their kids about a dragon falling for the princess

Some D2 ones in the document, too!

-Uma decides to take Evie instead of the wand and now I can use D3 info to finish that one! It even has cute scenes where Snow and Evie are acting like stepsisters to one another.

-Evie and Uma rendezvous on the island while Ben, Jay, and Carlos are looking for Mal. It's just them catching up with each other about news, and Evie explaining the slow progress Ben is making to bring over more kids, but promising Uma she'll get her out somehow.

-Harry and Uma kidnapping Evie instead of Ben, but they're both smitten with her, so they don't treat her too roughly.

-Oh. Smut.

-Once Uma disappears into the sea, she starts visiting Evie in Auradon when no one else is around. She's really stealthy about it and she and Evie share progress updates with the Isle and bounce ideas for improvement off each other.

-Evie visits the Isle to check up on Dizzy and before she goes, she and Harry met up and talked about how Uma disappeared and how they both wish they could have been more help to he-OH MY GOODNESS I HAVE A DANCING SCENE BETWEEN THEM IN THIS FIC AND NOW I CAN'T DEAL

-Harry and Evie just flirting shamelessly with one another while Mal and Uma are asleep before the showdown.

I definitely have to finish these, and probably change some details to match D3, though most of them will likely stay largely the same without change.

#Disney's Descendants #Descendants #Descendants 2 #Descendants 3 #Uma #Evie #Mal #Harry Hook #fic ideas #angel has spoken

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sailorportia · 5 years

Text

Looking Sharp

Fandom: Little Witch Academia

Pairing: Hannah England x Akko Kagari

Femslash February 2019 [Index Post] Day Five: Sharp

approx. 1,800 words, rated T

also available on Ao3

In which Hannah and Akko bond over something they have in common... sharp teeth...

"Babs," Hannah said, "if I ever look like I'm going to say something stupid, I want you to sew my mouth shut for me."

"Sorry, Han. I'm afraid I don't know how to sew."

"That would be a pretty bad idea," Amanda said. "After all, those big fangs of yours need all the room they can get."

Hannah groaned. "Can we not have one lunch, just one meal where you gremlins don't make some half-assed joke about my teeth!?"

Hannah had been trying to rein in her sharp tongue. She really was. But sometimes she still had trouble keeping herself in check. One day she lost her temper at Sucy and made a snappy remark about her gloomy demeanour. Sucy retort was that she didn't want to hear that from a girl with "creepy fangs." Sucy let it go at that, but everyone else thought it was a riot. Cue three weeks of comments about her so-called fangs, every time she opened her mouth.

"Seriously," Hannah said. "You girls need to grow up already. That joke got old ages ago."

"Not as old as a thousand year-old vampire like you," Amanda said.

Hannah rolled her eyes and made the mistake of biting into an apple.

"She's sucking the life out of that apple!" Stanbot said. Constanze's shoulders shook, indicating laughter. The rest of the group joined in. Except for one.

Oddly enough, the only person who wasn't being a pain in the neck about the whole affair was Akko, of all people. She was even being nice. Unusually nice.

"Knock it off, guys," Akko said. "If you keep yapping you'll never finish your lunch."

"Defending Hannah again?" Diana raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe Akko wants to get bitten next," Jasminka said.

"I've always thought I was a snack." Akko laughed. Everyone else went back to eating their lunches and the subject of conversation changed. Akko flashed Hannah a smile and a wink.

Hannah suddenly became very interested in the contents of her plate. Naturally she appreciated Akko coming to her defence, but she was utterly confused as to why. After all, what did she and Akko have in common?

She got her answer later, that night.

It was almost curfew; Hannah was in one of the bathrooms, checking out her so-called fangs in the mirror. "They aren't that big, really they?" she said aloud.

"Eh, I've seen bigger."

Hannah screamed and turned around, face flushing from the embarrassment of being caught. "By the nine!" she exclaimed. "Don't sneak up on me like that, Akko!"

The interloper was leaning up against the wall. Akko looked unusually calm, cool. The glint in her eyes implied a shared secret between the two of them, her smile alluding to some joke that Hannah hadn't been let in on yet.

"Y'know, you really should do a better job of hiding your fangs," Akko said. "Our classmates are going to figure it out soon if you're not careful."

"Figure out what?" Hannah asked.

"Oh, don't play coy," Akko said. "That's the right word, right? I learned that one from Diana. Wait, what was I saying? Oh right. You know what I'm talking about."

"Actually I'm more confused than ever."

Akko pouted. "C'mon! You don't need to hide it! I've never met another one out in the wild before!"

"Another what?"

Akko squinted at her. "Wait, do you really not know? Are you... oh. You're not one of us, are you?"

"One of what? Who's us? You're impossible!" Hannah groaned and turned back around unable to face Akko out of frustration.

And that's when she saw it. Or rather, didn't see it.

Akko's reflection.

Hannah looked back a third time. Akko smiled nervously, revealing the fangs Hannah hadn't never noticed before.

"You're a vampire."

"Sharp of you to notice," Akko said, wincing. "I thought you were one too. But you're not. This is awkward, huh?" And there was the explanation for Akko's kind behaviour toward Hannah; she thought they were two of a kind.

"Wait, you thought I was a vampire too? Because of my," Hannah hesitated, "perfectly normal-sized canine teeth?"

Akko laughed. "They're actually a little big. I mean, I'm a real vampire, and even I thought they were the real thing."

"Ha ha, very funny. Alright, miss real vampire, if you thought I was vampire, then why would I be looking at my teeth in a mirror I can't see myself in?"

"I dunno," Akko replied. "Maybe you were just trying to blend in with the humans?"

"You can literally see my reflection in the mirror."

"Yeah, well I'm not very perceptive. Am I?"

"I'll say."

Akko looked at her feet, then at Hannah, then back at her feet. "You're taking this kinda well," she said.

"Well, yeah," Hannah said. "It's not like I'd feel threatened by a vampire, even when the vampire is you."

"Hey, just because I'm super nice—"

"Not where I was going, but I like your optimism."

"—doesn't mean I don't still need blood," Akko said sternly. "I still get really thirsty sometimes. And when I get really thirsty, I just want to bite someone."

Hannah could see the signs of her classmate's suppressed urges even from the other side of the bathroom. Her hands twitching, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, the way she leaned away from Hannah as if she needed the extra distance between them. Hannah looked into Akko's eyes and saw an urgent, pressing need that would have to be satisfied.

"Are you... thirsty right now?"

Akko rubbed the back of her neck. "I ran out of my blood supply. I was hoping to bum some off of you, but since you're not a vampire..." She shrugged.

The solution to that problem was obvious to Hannah. It should've been obvious to Akko. Maybe she was avoiding it out of... embarrassment...

"If you need blood that bad, you could always..." Hannah trailed off. She moved her head to the side, exposing her neck, hoping Akko would get the message so she wouldn't have to say it out loud.

"I could always what?" Akko cocked her head as well. "C'mon, tell me! What are you—" Her eyes widened, either in realization or in bloodlust. "You want me to bite you!?"

"I don't w-w-want you to bite me!" Hannah yelped. "But I can't let you run around the school biting people like some kind of mosquito! Just take some blood from me until you replenish your supply or whatever."

Akko considered it. "That would work, but are you sure? It'll hurt."

"You've always been a pain in the neck," Hannah said. "What's a little bit more?"

"It's more than just a pinch!"

"I'll just bite you back then," Hannah said. "Then we'll be even."

Akko blushed. "H-Hannah! You perv! At least buy me a drink first!"

Hannah blushed as well at the thought of breaking some kind of vampire social protocol. Biting humans was okay but getting bitten was lewd somehow? "Just bite me already before someone walks in or something." She offered her flushed neck.

Akko was too thirsty to argue. She crossed the bathroom and came in close to Hannah. With calmness intended to reassure, she placed one hand on Hannah's shoulder and used the other to pull her collar out of the way. Mumbling a warning for her not to flinch, Akko brought her mouth to Hannah's neck and sank her fangs into the soft flesh.

A moan broke through Hannah's lips. Akko hadn't exaggerated; it did hurt. But it also felt good. Really good. Hannah told herself that the surge of heat tingling its way through her body was some mechanism that vampires had evolved to keep their prey complacent. It certainly had nothing to do with how nice Akko's lips felt against her neck. As Akko drank from her, she pressed up against Hannah, pushing her back up against the sink. The strength in Hannah's legs faded and she clung to Akko for support, her fingers gripping the back of Akko's uniform.

When she had her fill, Akko pulled her fangs out and—as she always did when she fed—kissed the twin wounds, to make them better. Hannah squeaked at the kiss, but didn't object. She released the tension in her arms and Akko stepped back. She wiped away the blood on her lips with her hand, which she then licked clean. "You're all good? The wound should close up soon. Something about vampire saliva."

Hannah nodded. She felt a little light-headed. Nothing she couldn't handle. The bite stung. She could handle that too. What she couldn't handle was the overwhelming desire to make good on that suggestion she'd made before. She chalked that up to vampire nonsense as well.

"You've had your snack," Hannah said breathily. "Now it's my turn."

She pulled at Akko's collar and ran a finger down the side of her neck. Akko shivered in response and didn't resist when Hannah lowered her head and nibbled at Akko's neck, taking skin between her teeth and tugging gently. Then she imitated Akko and pressed her teeth into Akko's skin, making a low sound in her throat as she did. Hannah's so-called fangs weren't nearly as sharp as Akko's and obviously didn't pierce the skin, but they still hurt quite a bit. The vampire yelped, but rather than try to get away, she clung held Hannah closer. Akko wasn't used to being on this side of the biting, but she didn't mind it.

Once she had her fun, Hannah pushed Akko away, perhaps to make sure things didn't go any further.

Akko covered her face with her hands. "I can't believe you actually did it. Biting a vampire? Who does that?"

"You're a supernatural creature that lives off blood and that's weird to you?"

Akko uncovered her face, which was blushing furiously. "I bite people cuz I need to! You did it cuz you were into it!"

"I was not 'into it!'"

"You totally were! You moaned!"

"Y-you're imagining things!"

The two of them glared at each other, nose to nose. They were both slightly out of breath, and the sound of their panting did nothing to quell the desires bubbling under the surface.

"We should be going," Akko said. "We don't want anyone wondering where we are." And more to the point, wondering why they were both missing together.

She was about to leave when Hannah spoke up. "If you ever run out of blood again," she said hesitantly, "you can come to me for a quick fix."

Akko laughed. "Are you going to bite me again if I do?"

Hannah bit her lip as she considered the possibilities. "Maybe. If I can't think of anything better to do..."

#femslashfeb2019 #little witch academia #lwa #hanakko #hannah england #akko kagari #my fanfiction #femslash #yuri #fan fiction #don't kinkshame me

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jawllines · 6 years

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DEAREST OLIVIA,,,, PLEASBETH, BLESS MY HEART AND PUSS BY SUPPLYING US WITH VAMP HARRY IN HEAT! OR EVEN ANAL WITH VAMP H!!! IM DESPERATE BUBS DD:DD

hELO HERE I PRESENT YOU WITH THE HIGHLY REQUESTED AND AWAITED BLURB THAT I KIND OF FORGOT ABOUT UNTIL YOU REMINDED ME ! SHE’S A LONG ONE (4K+ WORDS)

Y/N could tell something was wrong, she just wasn’t sure what it was exactly.

Harry had always been a bit of an odd duck; when she’d met him in the forest all those months ago that had been clear after he’d called her ‘little human’ and he’d only solidified his status of abnormal vampire, drinking her blood, irately feeding her cookies and cranberry juice, then growing fond of her and trying to let her know so by making friends with her cat. So at the start of this sudden shift in behavior – this clingy, needy way that he’s been begging her to skip class (more so than usual), holding her so tightly sometimes she can barely breathe, and multiplying his normal peppering of kisses to her face in the morning tenfold – she hadn’t been all too concerned. Just figured that he was hungry and she needed to feed him soon.

However, when this behavior had continued on for more than two days and he wasn’t asking to feed, Y/N became suspicious. After day three he wasn’t just needy, he was downright refusing to leave her side. Would keep his hands on her wherever they went, would burrow his nose into the curve of her throat when they were sitting whether or not she was studying, on the computer, on her phone, or just watching TV. He’d even insisted on attending a class with her, only furrowing his brows when she asked him why he’d want to sit through an Ethics class, his only reply being, “I wish to spend all my time with you, Little human.” And while this doesn’t sound too weird coming from him, she knows he enjoys his alone time as well – its when he gets most of his business done, which had taken to the back burner now that he was suddenly ten times more enamoured with her than the start of the week.

What had finally made her call Louis was when she walked in from class (she’d managed to sneak out before he’d woken up – he never lets her pay attention when he tags along) to find he had surrounded himself in all of her blankets, a few of her choice favorite shirts, some stuffed animals she’d had scattered about, and the pillows from her bed – all in a little pile with him at the center of it, pouting. “You left me here,” he huffs petulantly, “All alone. That was very rude of you and I would do nothing of that manner ever. You’re being a very cruel mate.” And though he was talking big, he still climbed over the mess he’d made and snuggles his nose into her throat, breathing in deep and giving her a big hug.

“Mate?” She’d repeated but Harry didn’t respond, just took to just snuggling further into her side and walking her back towards his self made pile of her things, dropping the both of them down amongst it and kissing at her face.

“Missed you,” he murmured lowly, “Stop going to school, I can take care of you.”

Y/N flicked his bicep, “You know I can’t, Pet,” she let him curl his body around her, “What’s gotten into you lately, huh? So…cuddly.”

He only hummed, continued to peck kisses to her cheeks, nipped at her jawline, until she tucked her fingers in his hair and petted at him so he resorted to those low, animalistic purrs that he’d been keen on making as of late as well. Something was definitely, definitely off.

So when he fell asleep clinging to her after murmuring a low, “Don’t leave”, she’d slipped herself from his grip, shushing his grumbling by saying she’s just going to the bathroom, but as soon as she closes the door, she plops on the toilet and called Louis. He answered in the middle of the second ring, sounding a little confused because normally Y/N just texts him if she has questions about vampiric nature but this one was urgent. This one was a question that, as soon as he’d answered the phone, he’d barely gotten a “Hello” out before she’s rushing to say, “Harry’s been weird lately.”

“He’s always weird, Pet, or have you just noticed?”

Y/N huffed, rolling her eyes, and then delved into the whole explanation of how Harry had been lately. From the barely leaving her side, to the not feeding, to the new “Mate” ordeal that she’d just heard not even twenty minutes prior, and how she’d walked in to him in a pile of her clothes, pillows, and blankets. Went into all the nitty gritty details of it and how confused she was by all of it but if she even tries to bring it up Harry completely ignores her.

She thought that Louis might freak out or something – their vampire “leader” suddenly on the fritz, abandoning his job for the human girl he’d mated with and is now becoming completely consumed by as of late – but instead he just hums knowingly, “Ahh,” he’d began and she can hear the clinking of pans on the other side of the phone, “He’s cusping his heat.”

“His what?” Y/N’s brows furrow, “Like a cat?”

“Sort of,” he replies, “A vampire’s heat is seldom existent unless they have a mate, and since so many of us choose to forgo relationships and follow bloodlust instead, it isn’t something widely recognized. It’s a period where he wants nothing but his “mate” – biologically speaking – so when you are gone, it upsets him. That’s why he made a nest of your clothing and pillows; all things that smell of you.” She nods though he can’t see her, “They can be thrown into false heats as well, but there’s a whole psychological thing with that I’ll have to explain to you some other time.” Y/N’s bottom lip slips into her mouth, gnawing on it harshly, “Harry’s aware of this, but he’s most likely embarrassed and is suppressing it but that’s only making it fester. He may not let you in on it but he hates his non-human bits and they only become more primitive around this time – thinks that they’ll run you off –”

“They won’t,” she cuts him off to say, “I like those parts too.”

Chuckling warmly, Louis responds, “I know, Love, and I tell him this, but he’s a hard headed bloke. Let him know that you know, and the rest will take care of itself.”

“What’s the rest though? Like, how do we take care of it?”

There’s a pause on the other end, like he’s deciding whether or not he’s going to tell her, before he blows out air into the receiver, “I’ll let him tell you that one. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m attempting to make a lobster bisque for my feeder. If it turns out good I’ll bring some leftovers.”

With this he hangs up the phone and Y/N is left in the bathroom with the knowledge that her vampire boyfriend was in heat and she was meant to take care of it, which is a sentence she’d never thought would contribute to her life. She has no clue what she’s supposed to do other than tell him that she knows but she doesn’t even know how to tell him how she knows. Hi Harry, so I heard you’re in heat like a cat and that’s why you’ve been so cuddly on me lately! Haha, okay, so how do we fix it? That seems like a terrible idea, if she’s honest. Harry would be livid that she found out about it behind his back if he’s embarrassed about it in the first place. He hadn’t been answering her for a reason. However, she hopes that how much he’s been soft towards her would soften the blow.

But she wants to take care of him in every way she can and if that means experiencing him a little more grumpy than usual, then she could handle it. The poor thing has probably been suffering trying to keep this a secret because he didn’t want her to know about his nonhuman bits apart from the obvious, and that breaks her heart. She wants him to be able to tell her everything.

Popping out of the living room, she walks out to find Harry knuckling at his eyes, frowning at her still in the “nest” he’d made, “Oi,” he grumbles lowly, “Told ya not to leave, didn’t I, Little human? Lemme cuddle with–”

“I know you’re in your heat, Harry,” she rushes out, because Y/N has never been good at beating around the bush, if she’s honest, but she almost immediately regrets not being softer about it. Harry’s entire face shifts from a settled, grumpy state that would be soothed with her in his arms to a full on, disgruntled frown strong on his features as she holds her phone tightly between both hands.

“I’m –” he begins, shaking his head, mustering an excuse, “I am not. Who told you that I was?”

She bites the bullet, uttering a careful, “Louis did.”

And Harry didn’t like that one bit, shuffling up from where he had been comfortably slumped in the material of her things, “Well, he’s a bleeding liar. I’m not going into my heat.” He declares but his voice lacks conviction and she knows that he knows he’s been caught. What makes a guilt warp deep in her gut – she should’ve been gentler. A cuddly, soft Harry – even when grumpy – is a sensitive Harry nonetheless, which she hadn’t known was possible for a vampire. There were moments that he could be so delicate that he needed to be treated just as softly as he treats her. “I don’t … I don’t do that.” He continues, clearing his throat and straightening out his back.

“Harry,” she murmurs, setting her phone down on the coffee table that he had effectively shoved out of the way for his nesting while she lowered onto her knees, crawling her way closer to him, “It’s okay, yeah? I don’t mind it.” Cautiously, as if not to scare him off, she reaches to frame his face with her hands, letting her fingertips skate across the smooth skin of his jaw, “I can help you through it, you just have to tell me what to do.”

Harry shakes his head but ultimately his shoulders sag, in a lesser tense state than he had been previous now that she’s near to him, looking a little defeated. She works her way into his lap, thighs astride each of his own, petting at his cheeks when he closes his eyes, “You can’t.” He utters low, despondently “I have done my research, and human’s are not accustomed to heats and the like of it. You are too small and soft for…for me to relinquish the control I have.”

“Do you need me to find someone like you then? To help you through –”

“No!” He cuts her off quickly, looking horrified that she had even offered, “No, never, I only wish to be with you but –”

“Then let me help,” she settles her bum on his thighs, scooting closer to his crotch and his hands automatically reach for her hips, mounting them, “I can help.”

“Little human, you won’t be able to handle –”

“I’ll very well tell you what I can and can’t handle,” she furrows her brows at him, scooting closer and being met with a straining lump pressing at the zip of his trousers – it hadn’t been there a moment ago, and god all she had to do was sit down on him, “And as much as you like to think you’re this big scary monster, you aren’t, and I can handle you.”

Her hands slip from his cheeks, down his chest and towards the button of his pants, popping them open and using her thumb and forefinger to drag the metal zipper down. A shaky breath leaves Harry as she merely skims where he’s hard, she can feel him twitch in his boxers, his brows clinching towards the center, “You are very disobedient, Little human,” he works out through a heavy breath, “But if you wish to help me, then promise me that – that if it becomes to much you will stop me. You are my top priority and above all things, I hold you dearly to me.” Y/N’s heart picks up in her chest in the most delightful little beats, “I may be rough, but if you do not like it, then you tell me our safe word, yes?”

“Yes,” she smiled at him, giving him a soft nod.

This is how, an hour later, Y/N ends up on their bed with Harry fucking into her dutifully. Her back is flush against his chest, his arm holding her up against his body while squeezing at her tit, tweaking at the nipple beneath his fingers, while his other hand digs into the wooden headboard, leaving scratches behind from the full brunt of his hands. From the time Harry had entered her, he hadn’t pulled out for more than a few seconds to change position, and has cum four times in total, Y/N breaching her fifth orgasm currently. Her thighs are trembling, and if not for Harry, she doubts there’s anyway she’d be able to hold herself up at all right now.

“So soft,” he growls, nipping at his bite mark on her throat, “So soft and wet and tight inside, Little human. Want more. Want you to cum again.”

Y/N shakes her head, whining out a very pitiful, “I can’t!” Even though she most definitely can. It’s moments like these that she’s glad she started birth control, so she can feel every single inch of him inside of her. She’s close…almost there even, and she knows that all he has to do is buck into her a few more times before she’s falling apart again. But she’s so sensitive right now…so drawn up tight, muscles knotted with the tension of impending release.

Harry gives a displeased murmurs, “Am I not fucking you hard ‘nough?” Giving a particularly hard thrust inside of her, his hips snapping against her bum and she all but cries out.

“You are!” She gasps, fingers digging into the rumpled, now filthy sheets below them, “You are, you are, you are.” Her toes curl up, pussy being to pulsate around him.

“Then you can,” he answers for her, slipping his fingers up towards her mouth, tapping on her swollen lips gently and she opens up for him off instinct, letting him slide them against her tongue. She sucks on them as she teeters over the edge, the fifth orgasm rushing through her like a tsunami, leaving her shaking and slumping in his arms and as her pussy milks him dry, Harry can’t help but cum as well.

Though Harry doesn’t seem to have broken a sweat, Y/N was proper tuckered out and her hole was messy and incredibly sensitive. She doesn’t think she could take another pounding in it or she might actually break apart. And as if he could tell, he slips out of her slowly, a strangled whimper leaving her at the feeling of being empty and Harry tuts his tongue as he lies her down, “D’ya need a break, Little one?”

She is panting but shakes her head, “Y’can – y’can fuck my bum, like we talked about before,” she tells him, sliding her hand against her sweaty skin and then to the sheet, “Can handle it.”

Harry all but groans out, his cock still hard, flushed red and dripping – the remnants of both their last orgasms still coating him, “Yeah?” He murmurs, “Wan’ me t’a fill you all the way up in there too?” Y/N nods, chest heaving as he carefully flips her over onto her back, taking a pillow to stuff beneath her and have her elevated and presented to him. She had thought she was too far fucked out to care about whether or not he’d seen her but as soon as he splits her thighs back open for himself, she works to close them, reaching down towards his hands.

“Don’ stare,” she murmurs softly, “S’embarrassing.”

Harry hums with a disagreeing lilt, “No,” he utters, “Don’t try to hide your pretty little pussy from me, ‘specially when she’s so messy.” His thumb just barely skims across the swollen heat of her clit and her lower half twitches, “Who made this big a mess, huh?” He slips his fingers inside of her, tenderly stroking her walls and her thighs tremble. Even more so when she realizes what he’s doing, sliding his fingers now all wet and sticky from both of their excitement down to the ring of muscles just a little lower, smoothing it around as lube.

“You did.” She blames him, and Harry chuckles that warm, slow, inviting one that she thinks would draw anybody in – like an angler fish’s light but with less pointy teeth – and she thinks that she would let him swallow her whole, if he wanted to.

“So you have nothing to do with it?” He asks and she shakes her head, finally catching her breath just a little, enough to let out a small giggle when he narrows his eyes at her, a smile gracing his plushy pink mouth, “I think you did, naughty minx. Smell so good I want to eat you all up, “ he’s sliding one finger in, stretching her out slowly, “And you’re always so soft n’warm. Made me cum so much in your tight lil’ cunt that I can scoop it out of you and fuck it into this pretty little bum, that you want me to fuck, filthy girl.”

Y/N opens her mouth to try and say something at least a little bit snarky and stubborn, but all that leaves her is a harsh little gasp as his teeth sink into the flesh of her thigh. Sucking at the blood there and making her toes curl intensely, and she only barely feels him sliding in another finger besides the one already fucking into her. That all too pleasant floaty feeling infiltrates her veins, making her feel bubbly and light and ready – god, she was so ready for him again…all thoughts of sensitivity gone.

It’s not long until Harry has fucked her open wide enough for his cock, reaching over to her bedside table for the lube they had bought for an even as such and Harry drizzles the cool liquid over his cock along with some over her hole. Heat or not, Harry was still thinking and she appreciated that. She wonders if she were like him, if he would be putting so much precaution and thought into how things went or if it would be rougher and carnal – animalistic even.

When the ruddy red head buds at her blooming hole, Y/N’s mouth falls open in the same moment that Harry begins a long, drawn groan – sinking himself down into her. It’s a lot…she’s never felt so full in her life and it’s an odd sensation but she loves it. If she could be full of Harry all the time she would never be opposed to it. Her knees try to meet each other but his hips rest in between her thighs, keeping her spread open.

“S’bloody tight, Love,” he moans through gritted teeth, finding her hand and slotting their fingers together sweetly, “But s’perfect. Perfect fit fo’ me. Like you were made jus’ fo’ me Little human.” Y/N musters the little strength she still garners to squeeze his hand as Harry begins bucking into her, smearing their mouths together for a moment.

Everything feels good – so good as he slicks inside of her, his breath ghosting against the mark he’d made against her throat and she pushes it out towards him, “Bite me,” she tells him, grabbing at his bicep with her free hand, trying to pull him impossibly closer, “C’mon, bite me, please? Pretty please I wan– I want it.”

A strangled moan leaves him as he bends down, tucks his face in her throat and sinks his teeth into her again, sliding his hand down to her clit and running over it with his thumb quickly. This accompanied with the intense tingling and buzzing that zips through her body like lightning when he bites her, swarms her entire being and her lower belly burns with desire and butterflies. It’s when she falls apart again, tears crowding her eyes from the pleasure, that Harry lets up on feeding from her, drawing back with a pant and his lips stained red as his own abdomen clenches and he empties himself into her bum. Each thick spurt coating her walls, making her even messier, his hips slowing to muted thwacks, slipping out of her bum carefully and there she finally sees his softening cock. Absolutely spent, just like she was.

“Oh, little one,” he sighs, looking all over her body before he slips his hands beneath her and lifts her easily, like she was weightless, holding her close while he kneed off the bed and took her to the bathroom, “Y’look like m’chew toy again. Were supposed to tell me when you’d had enough.”

“M’fine,” she murmurs, exhausted and only vaguely aware as he sits her atop the sink counter while he preps up a bath for her, adding bubbles and the lot of it, “Y’don’t have to wash me this time, if you don’t –”

“Hush,” he tells her, running his hands beneath the water and deeming it the right temperature before he picks her back up and eases her into the tub as the water rises around her. He grabs for a flannel, wetting it in the bubbled water and urging her to open up her body to him a bit so that he could wash her off himself, “I made you a mess, ‘member? Only fair I take care of it for you.”

With a tentativeness indescribable with her own words, Harry soaps and suds her up, wiping away any spit, dried cum, or small traces of blood from both spots he had bitten. Is extra careful when sliding it over where she’s most sensitive, cooing soft little noises when she twitches from being so sensitive still.

When he’s finished, he leans forward and pecks a kiss to her cheek, “Stay here a minute and soak so your muscles aren’t too achy.” She nods, too tired to barter with him to join her so she lets him slip off. Only vaguely does she hear him start a load of laundry (she presumes the filthy sheets) along with the clinking of pans in the kitchen, the smell of garlic and basil cording up in the air and making it to her. For someone who doesn’t need to eat human food, Harry surely preps it like an actual chef and she’s just awake enough to know her mouth is watering – her stomach grumbling loudly.

It’s about an forty five minutes before he returns, now dressed in a set of comfortable clothes he’d left at her house and a fluffy towel in hand. He helps her out with an, “Up ya get then,” before helping her towel off, then – as to go the extra mile – helps her step into her panties, pulling them up over her bum and giving it a small tap before easing a big, soft old school t-shirt over her head. He takes a look at his work – he’d admitted to her that he likes best when he’s done her up for bed, all soft and cute and comfortable, it makes him want to take her all over again and cuddle her up in his arms – then leans and presses a soft kiss to her temple.

“Made you pasta, Little human,” he leads her to the kitchen, where a plate is already set out for her, and her heart does a little jump when she doesn’t see any cranberry juice – thinks for a moment she’s gotten away with it. Or, that is, until he holds out her chair for her, letting her sit and scooting her in before the glass of red liquid is placed in front of her and she gorans a complaint.

“Chew toys don’ like cranberry juice, didn’t you know that?” She pouts at him while he goes to sit in front of her, rolling his eyes, “Thank you though, for the food and bathing me.”

Harry shakes his head, “I should be thanking you, Y/N,” he murmurs and she knows that he’s about to be serious when he uses her actual name, “You were there for me in a time I needed you and didn’t look at me all too differently for a…for a particularly inhuman portion of myself. For this I thank you with my whole heart and say again that I love you with my entire being.”

Y/N just about melts, reaching her leg out to nudge at his shin while a smile drags up on her face, “Big ol’ softie, you,” she responds, “I love you more.”

After she’s eaten (and finished at least half of the cranberry juice) they cuddle on the couch while the sheets are in the wash. Harry wraps her up in the throw blanket and places her atop of him, slipping his arms around her and holding her tightly. She’s mere moments from succumbing to sleep when he murmurs to her.

“Sleep well, Little human. Round 2 starts tomorrow.”

#AHHHHH #OKIE I DID IT!!#I HOPE IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT :D #HARRY SMUT #I MEAN ITS FILTHY #REALLY FILTHY #BLURBS #OR #BLURB #Anonymous

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