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nateezfics · 4 months

Note

you know what I can't stop thinking about? arranged marriage au with prince! ateez. in smut form..

idk if you're taking any requests but.. just an idea I guess haha😌

ARRANGED MARRIAGE WITH PRINCE ATEEZ

PAIRING — ateez x reader

GENRE — romance, smut, prince/royalty au, prince!ateez, princess!reader, arranged marriage au, spouse!ateez, strangers to spouses to lovers, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!ateez

WARNINGS — smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink (cuz ya know, gotta get that heir), possessive sex, first time sex/taking of virginity, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, sexual language//dirty talk

WORD COUNT — 6.2k

SUMMARY — you are a princess, and you’ve been wedded to a prince in an arranged marriage. naturally, it is expected for you and your now husband to be fruitful and produce an heir. it’s your duty, but you find yourself in the arms of your prince for reasons beyond just legal obligation. simplified summary: your first time with the prince you were forced to marry.

HONGJOONG

the books against your back were jagged and painful, but the discomfort did little to counter the pleasure you felt as a hard cock filled you yet again. you moaned and clawed at his strong back, the muscles flexing under your touch. there was a grunt in your ear when your nails dug in deep. his own hands held your hips, keeping you suspended against the large bookshelf.

hot breath against your neck made you shudder, and the teeth that sank into your skin a second later had you hissing in both pleasure and pain. “you’re awfully tight around me. are you close, hm?”

you watched as hongjoong lifted his head to face you. your eyes locked, and you’d never seen him look so intense. you squirmed under his gaze, but your movement was limited in his hold. your breath caught when his hand circled around your jaw; you had no other choice but to keep your sight focused on him.

hongjoong smirked. there was a wild gleam in his dark eyes, one you’d never witnessed before. since marrying prince hongjoong all those months ago, you’d only ever seen him calm, collected, and poised. he was a dutiful prince, dedicated to the crown and to his kingdom. he was polite, but cold, only ever really offering you attention at official events. you were beginning to believe he hated you, up until this evening. a particular duke had shown you a decent amount of interest at the ball, far too much for hongjoong’s liking. things escalated, and soon you found yourself stripped of your gown and thrown against the shelf within his study.

and there was no doubting the way your prince felt about you now.

hongjoong’s hips thrusted upwards repeatedly, and you began to unravel bit by bit within his arms. his eyes bore into yours, watching your face contort in pleasure. “you are my wife. do you understand?”

you barely managed a nod. you pulled at his back as you tried to anchor yourself to him like a lifeline. “y-yes.”

his lips captured yours in a languid, sloppy kiss. “mine, all mine. and i will dedicate as much time as i need to reminding you of this, so you will never forget it.”

hongjoong claimed you against his bookshelf repeatedly, over and over, until the sound of his name was the only sound to be heard within the expanse of his study. and with the marks that littered your skin, there was no way you could ever forget you were his.

SEONGHWA

“does this please you?”

your vision was hazy as you peered down the length of your body. a handsome face was nestled between your thighs, your arousal dripping down his chin while his eyes watched you closely. you nodded slowly, like it was a struggle for you to even comprehend what he was saying. “yes,” you breathed, “it does. very much. please, keep going.”

seonghwa smiled just before returning his attention to your pretty pussy. his tongue swirled over your bud and your body responded in kind, back arching and your fingers tangling in his dark strands. he was encouraged by the sounds you made, those pretty little whimpers and cries that had him stiffening in his trousers. he was eager to fuck you, to claim you properly as his wife, but he delayed his own pleasure just to taste your release on his tongue.

you came with a rush, pleasure surging in your body and offering you an experience you’d never had before. you shook under the weight of your orgasm, and seonghwa was there to guide you through it with soft caresses against your thighs. the look he gave you while he climbed over your body was one that made you feel so many things. it was a genuine surprise that your relationship with your arranged husband had grown into this; you had feared you’d fall into a loveless marriage like so many others. you’d never been so happy to be proven wrong.

seonghwa rid himself of the rest of his garments. his hard cock brushed your inner thigh, and you gasped at the feeling. he kissed down your jaw as he started to align himself at your entrance. “i’ll keep making you feel good,” he spoke. “i’ll fuck you with my cock, fuck you full of my cum and claim you completely. watch my seed make a home out of your womb. would you like that?”

you wanted nothing more. your legs wrapped around his waist and urged him forward. he obliged you, slipping himself into your tight heat. he allowed you time to adjust before rocking his hips into you over and over. and when the time came, you begged for his seed, begged for him to claim you like he’d promised he would.

YUNHO

when you were delivered the news that you’d been betrothed to a prince, you were afraid. afraid of a loveless marriage, of a marriage bound by duty. you feared that as the wife of a crown prince, your entire future would be rooted in stone. you were anxious your new husband would be someone you couldn’t even muster up the ability to tolerate. and when you thought of the wedding night, of performing your marital duties, you felt nerves, disgust, uncertainty.

but prince yunho surprised you in every way. he was kind, gentle, respectful, and beyond beautiful. you weren’t expecting it, but falling into his arms the night of your wedding came naturally to you. there were no nerves or disgust like you’d once feared. you felt at ease by his presence, and even after he offered you a way out of this, even when he gave you a choice, you still desired to go through with it.

yunho’s large frame hovered over you, enveloping you within his presence. his scent was all around you. his hips glided forward, plunging his cock deep inside you until you felt impossibly full. he chuckled at the way you whimpered, adoring the sight of your eyes rolling at the surge of pleasure. his hand cupped the side of your face, your skin hot to the touch. “you are beautiful,” he spoke softly, almost reverently. “i never expected to be graced with such a beautiful wife and princess.”

you felt bashful under his attention. you hid your face in his hand, earning yourself another giggle from the prince above. he urged you to face him again, and you were overwhelmed by both the pleasure he gave you and the stunning sight of his smile.

“don’t be so shy. i am your husband, after all.” yunho retracted his hips before snapping them into you again. you both groaned at the bliss. his soft smile morphed into a smirk. “and i am filling you to the brim with my cock. so, tell me, how badly do you desire me?”

you breathed in, and out, and over again while you reveled in the way he filled you up so full. long gone was the discomfort; your cunt now took him in completely, eager for him to take you. “please,” you whimpered as you lifted your hips to urge him for more. “take me. claim me. i need you so desperately.”

yunho gave you more than you ever could’ve asked for, pleasuring you so well until you had your fill. and with each thrust, the fears you once had slipped away, replaced with pleasure and admiration and a hope for the future.

YEOSANG

“ah! j-just like that. fuck, just like that.” yeosang watched with awe as you took him in full. the head of his cock grazed the back of your throat and he thought he could’ve seen stars. his hand was full of your hair, steadying your pace as you bobbed your head up and down.

the two of you had been avoiding each other since your wedding. things were…awkward, to say the least. neither of you were very outgoing, and didn’t exactly know how to interact. you were married, but were practically strangers. even after all of his royal training as a prince, yeosang was clueless how to engage with you. he was always destined to be in an arranged marriage, and he always knew he was expected to produce an heir….but no one offered him any insight on what to do beyond that. it wasn’t until his closest friend at court, wooyoung, practically locked the two of you in a room together did he finally muster up the courage to engage with you. things were less awkward after that.

and now here you were, in his room, with his cock down your throat. things had definitely improved.

yeosang cursed when you wrapped a hand around his base. when you glanced up at him, lips stretched around his shaft, he almost came undone instantly. he pulled your mouth from him before that could happen. the shocked look on your face was almost comical. he might’ve laughed if he wasn’t so aroused. “i don’t want to cum just yet.”

you gave him an odd look. “why not?”

“i want to make you feel good, too,” he admitted. he swallowed at the way you kept eyeing his cock. “i…i would like to fuck you, if that’s alright with you.”

you both powered through the initial awkwardness at first. the unsure touches, the slow falling of clothing, the experience of being bare before each other, witnessing each other’s bodies for the first time. you both melted into each other the moment he seated himself inside you, finding your rhythm and allowing your desires to take over.

“you’re so tight. fuck, you’re so tight.” yeosang buried his cock into your heat over and over, feeling the way your walls clamped around him like a vice. he was encouraged by your sounds and the way your hands gripped at his back.

“i’m so close,” you breathed. “you’re making me feel so good, yeosang.” you held onto him tightly as you began to grow overwhelmed by your incoming orgasm.

all yeosang wanted was to make you fall apart. he’d now discovered his most favorite thing in the world, and all he could think about was making you scream his name. and you did just that as you fell apart moments later, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. he wasn’t too far behind you, releasing himself inside you and filling you to the brim.

SAN

you felt all sorts of ways about your new husband. you didn’t hate him, no. he was kind enough to you, pleasant to make conversation with and polite and courteous. your marriage to him thus far was going far better than you expected. but you didn’t love him. at least not yet. there was definitely something akin to romance between you, but it was much too new, too delicate. the one thing you knew for sure was that the sexual tension between you and the prince was thick, and made it almost unbearable to be near him. you wanted him more than anything, needed him even.

and eventually, the tension snapped.

san rolled his hips forward, seating himself as deep within you as he could go. his grip on your waist was rough, his fingers in your flesh bordering on painful. “you’ve no idea how much i’ve been wanting this, wanting you.”

you whimpered at the fullness of him. his cock stretched you out wide, and you couldn’t recall a time you’d ever felt so full. your hands gripped at the backside of his shoulders and your legs circled around his waist, your body silently begging him for more. “san, please. i need more.”

“since you asked so politely.” the sheer force of his thrust stole the breath from you, a silent cry catching in your throat. san didn’t allow you much time to collect yourself before setting up a ruthless pace. he was desperate, desperate for you. the raging desire he’d been feeling for you fueled every thrust, every plunge of his cock into your heat. you felt absolutely wondrous, so perfectly warm and wet and tight around him. “you’re so tight for me, fuck, you feel divine. and you’re taking me so well.”

the polite prince you knew him to be was a distant memory. now, all you saw above you was a man wild with desire. his words, his cock, and the sight of him were all making you feel overwhelmed, and you knew your end was near. “s-san, feels so good!”

san peered down at you with his dark eyes, a smirk stretching across his face. “yeah? are going to cum for me?” when you nodded frantically, he hiked your leg over his shoulder, driving his cock deeper into your dripping cunt. “i’m going to fill you up so full, and claim this little pussy all for myself. would you like that? want me to breed you so good, hm?”

the only answer you were able to offer him was a cry of his name as you crumbled underneath the weight of your orgasm. your own release urged the man above you to his own.

san’s hips stilled as he came, cock throbbing and filling you up with his seed. he kept himself seated inside you, not wanting a single drop to fall from your stuffed hole. “you’re so addicting,” he whispered against your skin as his mouth traveled up your neck. “and now that i’ve had you, i don’t think i’ll ever be able to get enough.”

MINGI

“look at you, so pretty like this.” the deep rasp of mingi’s voice settled on your ears and brought you back to reality. your eyes focused on his handsome face. he was already watching you, seemingly intrigued by all the faces you were making, like he wanted to commit every expression to memory. “you look beautiful underneath me, full of my fingers.”

heat simmered on your cheeks. you squirmed, both from the pleasure and his attention, and sighed as his long fingers curled inside you. his fingers grazed the sweet spot nestled deep within you, causing your back to arch.

mingi smiled. “oh? did that feel good?” his smile grew when you nodded, like he was proud of himself for making you feel this way. this was certainly a new experience for the both of you, and so intimate. you were thankful for a husband like him, someone willing to be kind and patient with you. someone who cared for your pleasure.

“feels amazing,” you breathed. you were close, and you were certain he could tell by the way your walls gripped his fingers. he kept reaching for that spot, urging you to your release. you inhaled and exhaled before deciding to speak, “mingi, i need you inside me. please.”

“i am inside you.” his fingers curled again.

you shook your head. “your cock.”

mingi swallowed hard. “are you certain?”

you melted at his concern for you. it only made you want him even more. “yes.”

mingi was nestled inside you soon after. discomfort morphed into pleasure, and you quickly became intoxicated by the fullness of his cock inside you. he fucked you slow, deep, and so absolutely perfect. you always feared what an arranged marriage would entail, but mingi made you excited; you were eager to see how this blooming relationship between you and your prince would grow.

WOOYOUNG

“i knew it.” a smug voice came from between your thighs. a warm tongue flicked over your bud, teasing you and making you yearn for more. “i knew you’d fall for me eventually.”

you rolled your eyes, both from the pleasure of his tongue on your clit and annoyance. “i have not fallen for you. do not flatter yourself.”

wooyoung chuckled and pushed your thighs further apart. he sucked on your clit, and though you tried to hide it, he heard the small whimper slip passed your lips. he smirked victoriously, even though you couldn’t see over the skirt of your gown. “mmh, she says otherwise, love.” he licked a long stripe over your folds.

you bit your lip. you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan. for the lack of a better response, all you could offer up was a firm “humph”. as annoyed as you were with your new husband, you couldn’t deny the pleasure he was offering you, nor your own attraction to him. wooyoung was loud and had a large personality; he was cocky, and very self assured. the exact opposite of you. on your wedding day, he told you that it was only a matter of time before you fell in love with him. you tried ever since to prove him wrong.

but your own lust got in the way.

“come on now, let me hear you,” wooyoung urged. he lapped and sucked your sex like a delectable meal, doing everything in his power to coax those pretty little sounds of bliss from you.

it was a losing fight. the pleasure overwhelmed you, and as your high drew in closer, there was no way you could keep silent anymore. raspy breaths and soft whimpers fell out of your mouth as you began to spiral. you reached for his hair, but he was hidden under your gown out of your grasp.

“there’s those pretty sounds, love,” wooyoung praised you. “now cum on my tongue for me. i know you want to.” encouraged by his words, you came on his face mere moments later. he eagerly lapped up every drop of you while your thighs shook around his head. he milked you of your high before emerging from under your gown with a smirk.

you watched him closely through hazy eyes as he climbed over your body.

“now, i’m going to make my pretty little wife scream on my cock.”

JONGHO

you knew since you were little you were bound for an arranged marriage, dedicated to some unknown highly titled man. you were told that you just needed to make yourself like them, whoever you married. force yourself to be happy until you tricked yourself into believing that you were. then, you ended up married to a crown prince, but to your surprise, liking your new husband came easily to you. and even crazier, falling in love with him was effortless.

it took one dance with him, one moment spent in his strong arms.

jongho held your hands above your head as he fucked into you. you were rooted in place by his strong grip, and you were happy to remain there and take every bit of pleasure he was giving you. his thrusts were powerful, and his cock was reaching so deep within you thought you could see stars. “you’re so perfect for me.”

his lips were on yours in a slow kiss, and you swallowed up his words. in exchange, you sighed against his mouth. there was so much you wanted to say, but the pleasure was too much for you to even speak.

jongho seemed to understand every moan, every cry that you made. one of his hands let loose of you to lower down between where you were joined, thumb pressing into your clit. he inhaled your moans. “i’m going to make you feel so good, princess. make you cum on my cock over and over just like you deserve.”

“y-yes,” you sighed, so close to falling over the edge. “please, yes.”

he kissed you passionately, hips remaining constant and thumb against your bud. he was like an anchor as you came undone, keeping you in his hold as you fell apart. and he didn’t stop, keeping true to his word.

AUTHOR’S NOTES — this wip was the most voted for on the poll, so here it is! this request has been sitting in my inbox for so long🫣 i’m sorry! i hope you enjoyed this!!

i’ve opened up a ko-fi shop! link to it is on the pinned post on my blog. if you enjoyed this, or enjoy any of my work, a donation would be very appreciated! of course, a reblog and nice words would be just as meaningful💕

TAG LIST — @abiaswreck @jungkookieprincess @lilie-dctl @mjyungi @marievllr-abg @mylovelymito @nebulousbookshelf @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @staytinyinmybpack @thesafecafe (if you’d like to be on my tag list, find the tag list form link on the pinned post on my blog!)

NETWORKS — @kflixnet @wonderlandnet

ALL FICS ARE THE ORIGINAL IDEAS AND WRITTEN WORKS OF NATEEZFICS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. REPOSTING WITHOUT CONSENT FROM THE AUTHOR NATEEZFICS IS PROHIBITED!

#wonderlandnet #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez smut drabbles #ateez fanfiction #ateez imagines #ateez au #ateez scenarios #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader

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sukunas-wife · 3 months

Note

the Dadkuna series is great!!! Sukuna isn’t my main character that I like in jjk but this series has me SAT and WAITING for the next upload! I’ve always wondered though what momkuna and dadkuna’s relationship dynamic is. We get that sort of in how they met but what about when their relationship is established? I get the sense that obviously dadkuna would quite literally do anything for her but what exactly goes through his mind when he thinks about her?

Oh? Guess whose back 😎🤧

Me- I’m sickly too 🤭 but! The blog is picking up 🥺 and I’ve been working on this for a good time so here you go 🤍🤍🤍

(Indentions are thoughts, things he didn’t actively say out loud 🥺🤍)

Lord Ryomen Sukuna, though emotionally stunted and constipated, loves his wife. Would level cities and kill men easily if she didn’t have such a strong hold in him.

But he’s a misogynist at heart to an extent. He wants you at home with his kids being his cute little wife that he knows he can always come home to. It was your overwhelming passion for helping women who couldn’t bear children that convinced him he could let you live your life, as long as he knew he had people there to look over you when he couldn’t.

He appreciates the fact that when he’s tired, covered in blood that’s not his own, and carrying the exhaustion of his war ridden day, there you are rushing to him when he enters his temple. Disregarding your fine silk robes and the blood partly way on his body. The way you cling to him, always so happy and relieved to see him come home.

The first time he came home after being gone for so long, he remembers how you cried and held on to him, your anguished filled cries when you cried about how you thought he was never coming back, how you were scared he’d left you alone. He remembers how his hands found your waits holding you a bit away, another hand coming to cup your face, thumb wiping away your tears when he looked at you with tired eyes, “It would take the militia of this land's greatest sorcerers to even consider preventing my way back to your embrace.” Your teary eyes softened before you buried your face in his chest again hugging him and clinging to him.

He longed for that feeling of your embrace whenever he would leave you behind, he could deny it but on his way home to you, his heart ached and longed to feel your embrace and hear your praises of how he had returned. You cried no more because you were filled with that confidence he would always return.

——————

He’s a traditional man with his one form of values, not once did he long for sexual pleasure or was he consumed with lust. Misery, pain and the screams of his victims fueled him and filled him with an immense pleasure no woman’s body could ever possibly offer him.

They were all the same, sultry, scandalous, attention seeking harlots, prostitutes and women. Thinking they could better their lives if they could slip into his bed. They were wrong, every woman who he allowed to enter his bed chamber under these pretences had walked in with starry eyes and ambition. Only to cry and scream for their life while he slowly dug his nails into their flesh tearing them all apart, slowly and agonisingly. That was until he saw you that one day, any girl of age would’ve started to present themselves to him in shy or subtle ways hoping to catch his eyes. There you were kneeling out of respect in his presence, scared you had offended your lord.

‘Oh? Is this little morsel afraid?’ Fear filled and humbling yourself before him. You couldn’t look at him, there wasn’t an ounce of “I want to sleep with this man.” And yet these feelings caused a sentiment in the depths of his chest, something stirred inside him, you head captured his interest (non sexual at this point). ‘Hmm?, this will be a fine pet to break.’

You were a phenomenon in the temple, one he wanted to study, to take into his clawed hands and mould, twist, stretch and push to the edge and then just over the point of breaking to see what would become of you. Yet, once he had you in hands reach, once you were close enough for him to graze your skin with his nails… he didn’t treat you like a common daisy or water Lilly, no he took you into his hands like a Lotus floating on the water's surface. Making elegant work and taking care of your delicate bloom. You would be his delicate lotus that no one else would ever take the joy in having.

——————

“My gratifying queen, My delicate lotus, My benevolent wife.” Words he doesn’t speak so freely, he whispers them against your skin whenever you’d sleep by his side.

Delicate words and honeyed names had never once crossed his mind in his existence. Yet here he was, allowing himself to indulge in the smallest amount of vulnerability with these words. The press of his feverish kisses against your neck and cheeks between every word.

‘My little beloved pet, so tired, sleeping away the wares of today. How could something so small and insignificant like you cause this shift in my existence hm?’

The back of his hand brushing hair away from your face, nails grazing the side of your face lightly, he held you in his embrace watching you. Two arms securely around you, one supporting his head, the other kept grazing your skin. You’d stir in your sleep when he shifted slightly away from you to lay on his back. You’d become so used to his body heat even on the hottest days you’d search him out half awake.

‘My little lotus,’ he closed the space between you, pulling you into his side again, ‘rest your weary head without worries of tomorrow, I’m here to hold you now.’

He wouldn’t admit it, he didn’t even know it at that moment, but he was absolutely smitten with you in ways he had yet to comprehend. But it showed in his subconscious movements. A hand on your lower back or waist guiding you, knowing you’re close and safe.

Bringing home little jewels and trinkets he’d usually never spare a second glance . That is until a stone sparkles in the light of his flames and he stops briefly to take a close look.

My queen would look Devine with these adorning her neck. These stones would make fine pieces for my wife.

It was a shock when he came home one night waking you when he sat on the bed. You sat up sleepily while he handed you a bag of precious stones and jewels telling you he had brought you a gift, a free hand of his brushing your hair back and bringing you closer by the back of your head so he could kiss your lips.

——————

It was your wedding, there you were standing beside him in the Ceremonial Robes. You stood on his right, his eyes looking down at you.

Hmm, What an enticing display, to have my little pet dressed up so exquisitely for all to see and admire.

Even more enticing to know soon you’ll be round with my child, what an ethereal sight you will be laid out in silk robes and swollen carrying my legacy

My delicate little lotus, my malevolent queen, my gratifying and honourable wife. Perhaps these thoughts never be spoken aloud with heavy sentiment. But I vow myself to you in this instant, that I will do all to assure our future, our health, our children and our endless lives.

I will assure your hand never be left cold nor alone as long as I can take it. nor will it ever be lifted in vain or to labour. Your stomach is never empty as I will assure you have the finest wine and a feast every night if it’s what your little human heart desires, your head will always have a place to rest even if it is only on my chest. Your nights will never be cold, your days will never be short, your loneliness will exist no longer, and your heart will be mine, and mine will be yours.

It wasn’t all he told himself, but it was in the moment you felt a warm sensation against your skin, on your chest below the centre of your collar bone but above your breast was the same mark you’d seen on his tongue very few times.

Ryomen Sukuna DID NOT enjoy the thought of staining your teeth black, instead he took your hand, as if vowing and brains you, the ring finger of your left hand, the base faded to a black band, above it a snark mark matching your chest and another thin black bank, just below your nail was another black band. That’s how your little husband decided to present you as his.

Tag List: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks

@bofadeezs

@sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira

Broken :( @simpforyoubitch @domainofmarie @ilovemybabies378 @anyaswlrd @cyder-puff

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pettydollie · 5 months

Note

hii i could you write popular!bakugou x quiet!reader or bakugou x reader inspired by in between by gracie adams 🤍

ofc! xx 4 - popular bakugou x quiet reader (characters are aged up and in college btw) wc: 691

literally everyone is in love with bakugou or wants to be him its insane. like he has so many people asking about his quirk and trying to get to close to him, but he doesnt mind the attention. hes not cocky abt it, but he has a lot of pride. he's never alone, always walking the halls with people following him.

then theres you. a silent girl in most of his classes surprisingly. you mostly keep to yourself with 1-2 close friends. you were sat in front of him in all of his lectures with you and you had never bothered him. not once. ocasionally, he'd ask for a pencil or something and you'd give it to him. no biggie.

he honestly never really thought about you that much till a specific night. "you idiots." bakugou grumbled to himself as he got out of his friends car. he wasted a night of studying by partying with people he didnt even really like. except for his friend kiri, he was alright.

it was already 10:30. he wouldnt be able to stay awake, but he can't just go to sleep? nono, exams are very close, he needs to get as much information glued in his brain as possible. kiri had recommended having a study buddy. but who the hell would want to actually study with bakugou?? everyone would be distracted and frankly, he didnt have time for that.

and besides, he doesnt need anyone else. right? wrong.

because now as he walks up the stairs to the dormitories, he decides to find you. you were pretty normal for the most part, he thought. a bit of a nerd too, so he wasn't too worried about you having the wrong shit written down. he found your dorm and knocked softly, letting out a sigh.

meanwhile, you were munching on freshly made chocolate chip cookies while going over notes you had gotten from the lecture yesterday. you leaned back against your chair in a tiny tank top and shorts with your hair up in a claw clip. you had light music going on in the background, bopping your head slightly. though the bopping stopped as your head cocked to the side as soon as you heard the thuds of someone's steps coming towards your room.

you stood up when said person knocked on your door. maybe one of your friends came by, you thought. you grinned, excited you made so many cookies. you tip-toed to the door and swung it open.

with his hands dug into his pockets and a somewhat tired look on his face, the katsuki bakugou stood at your door in all his glory. "oh!" you squealed, your hand covering your mouth. "sorry, i-i just wasn't expecting you." you nervously spoke, feeling slightly embarassed.

"i need help. be my study buddy." bakugou spoke bluntly.

"huh? study buddy?" you muttered. bakugou stayed quiet and stepped into your room confidently, looking around. you stood to the side and shut the door behind you, following him inside where he walked over to your desk, looking at your neatly written notes. "yeah. you aint stupid or anythin' right?" he cocked a brow.

you shook your head softly. "no, i dont think so."

he nodded, eyes wandering down to what you were wearing. your eyes stared into his and realized what you had on. he bit the inside of his cheek. "what're you expectin' someone over?"

you shook your head, feeling awkward. "uh, no." you cleared your throat as bakugou sat in your chair, flipping through the pages you had spent such delicate time working on. "do you want a cookie?" you asked politely, pointing towards the plate on your desk, walking towards him. his head turned to where your finger was pointing.

he shrugged, taking one and biting into it. it was soft and chewy. and warm. his eyes brightened a little, just a little. "t's not bad. would be better with coffee." he stared at the bitten cookie in his hand, careful not to make a mess. you smiled at this. "coffee coming up!" you skipped to the kitchen.

that was the first time you had really spent time with him and you'd gotten to know him better than you thought you would have just by studying. needless to say, you enjoyed his company. you weren't around people too often, yet alone someone as popular and liked as bakugou.

as for him, he would never forget that day. it may sound stupid, but he thought you were something.. special. you didn't talk to him about his quirk, not once. you didn't ask if he had a girlfriend or if he was free next friday night. you were just you.

and you talked more than he anticipated also. guess you just had a lot kept inside till then. it seemed like that night, he had turned into the quiet one. and he didn't mind it at all. he grew closer with you and fell in love with you. yet, in class, you were still quiet. however, when it was just you two, you yapped for hours on end about anything.

he grinned at the thought.

I WANNA TURN THIS INTO A SERIES IM PROUD OF IT TBH.

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sturnsreader · 5 months

Text

hickey prank

part 2 of 6

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

you and chris never liked to pull little pranks on each other because you knew it would turn into a huge prank war between you two considering past experiences with pranking each other. but after coming across a tiktok video of a girl doing a hickey prank on her boyfriend you couldn't help but want to try it.

you were laying in your boyfriends bed on a saturday morning, the sun peering through his blinds while scrolling on your phone. your eyes beamed up as you watched chris enter the room. he had on and a black tank top with some shorts. you smiled at him as he set his water bottle on his desk. chris smiled back at you softly as he walked over to you.

“okay, i'm off to the store, mama.”

the boy leaned over you, pressing his palms into the mattress beside your shoulders; his hair slightly touching your forehead. you smiled and placed your phone on your chest then lifted your hands up to the nape of his neck.

“do you want to go?” chris cocked an eyebrow at you, already knowing the obvious answer to his question.

"what do you think?"

“most likely no.”

you giggled as your hands slid down from his neck to the sides of his face as you pulled him down towards your face and gently kissed him as he kissed you back. you wonder sometimes, how am i still so in love with this boy after these years? but then again, you wouldn't change this electric feeling for the world.

chris pulled away from you then kissed your forehead. he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as your gaze was softly set on your love.

“do you want anything?”

you thought for a moment then shook your head in response.

“okay. i'll be back in a few, call me if you need anything.” chris pushed himself back up.

“okay, love you.”

“love you too.”

chris grabbed his phone and was about to leave but instead turned around and ran back to you and quickly kissed you once more before leaving. you giggled as you watched him leave the room.

“bye, baby!” chris shouted from the front door.

you continued scrolling through your phone until you came across a tiktok of a girl pranking her boyfriend that she had a hickey. you laughed to yourself then saved the video and sent it to nick with a grin.

__________________________________________

nick

y/n

NICK

should i do this to chris? 😭😭

*link*

nick

LMFAO yesss i'll help

y/n

bet okkk

__________________________________________

you quickly got out of bed and got dressed and put your hair in a ponytail. nick hurried downstairs to chris's room and knocked on the door and you opened the door and invited him in. you two went into chris's bathroom and dug through your makeup.

“okay, so maybe like this eyeshadow?” you held up a pallet of reds and purples next to your neck.

“oh my god it's PERFECT!” nick laughed.

you clapped your hands together and nick searched for a video to help while you dug through your bag of makeup brushes and pulled out a few. nick found a video and took a brush from your hand and you guys chose a spot on your neck and nick lightly started rubbing the eyeshadow onto your neck and blending it out. he mixed reds, purples, and a little bit of gray to really make it stand out. finally, he was done.

“ew, it actually looks real!”

nick fake gagged as you laughed then turned to the bathroom mirror and saw the bruise on your neck. your jaw fell open in shock.

“shit! nick it looks really good!” you turned to him then to the mirror again.

“oh my god, you're gonna make him so mad.”

“i know, i'm a little scared.”

you and nick cleaned up everything then went out to the living room and waited.

“should i keep my hair up?” you asked nick as he took a pepsi from the fridge.

nick studied you for a moment until he spoke. “no, leave it down it's too obvious. it'll look like you're trying to show him.”

you nodded then pulled your ponytail out. a minute later you got a text from chris saying he was on his way home now. you quickly looked up at nick with widened eyes.

“he's on his way home. fuck.” you cupped your mouth with your hand.

“go into his room!” nick shouted then you hurried to chris's room and jumped onto the bed and tried your best to look normal. you moved your hair out of the way a little bit so the hickey was slightly noticeable.

fifteen minutes passed and you heard the front door open and that's when your stomach dropped. then, footsteps coming down the stairs, then before you knew it the door opened and there he was.

“hey, baby i got you some dr pepper because i knew you would’ve wanted something.” chris smiled then put his phone and wallet on his desk.

“hey, babe. did you have a good time?” you asked.

chris nodded and walked over to you and was about to lay down with you when he saw the mark on your neck. his eyes widened in shock at the mark then he met your eyes.

“what the fuck?” chris mumbled then moved your hair to the side. “what did you do while i was gone?”

“what?” you acted confused

“you have a fuckin’ hickey on your neck, y/n!” chris ran a hand through his hair. “where did you go when i was gone?”

“chris! i didn’t go anywhere, relax!” you laughed.

“then what the fuck is that? because it wasn’t there before i left.” chris pointed at the bruise on your neck.

“its just a mark.”

“thats not just a mark, baby, thats a hickey. and it was not from me!” you heard the shakiness in his voice.

you started to feel bad so you frowned then took your fingers and smudged the eyeshadow to show him its makeup. you saw the relief on his face and started to laugh.

“im so sorry, baby.” you laughed then stood up and wrapped your arms around his neck.

chris sighed and wrapped his arms around your lower waist.

“that wasn’t funny!”

“im sorry!”

you pulled away from the hug and kissed his lips softly “i love you.”

“i love you.” he says as he shuts the door and makes you sit down.

“take your shirt off, mama.” he says softly while kissing your lips.

you pull your shirt off, he takes it and throws it on the floor. he pushes you all the way down on your back using his hands to hover over you, chain dangling over your face.

he kissed all the way down your body and looks up for reassurance that he can go all the way.

“fuck- baby. yes.”

!!!

well that switched up very fast 😏😏

PART TWO IS FINISHEDDDD and im feeling veeeery motivated to finish these ;)))))

#fanfic #ao3 #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #kms instead how about that #my man my man my man #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #dick dick dick #SoundCloud

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cottonlemonade · 25 days

Note

Hi can I order a medium grape lemonade with a slice of grape for Bokuto! I rlly love your work and ice been reading a lot of it! Thank you so much!

Scream It From The Rooftops

word count: 1095 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: Bokuto x chubby female manager!Reader

genre: comfort

warnings: mentions of anxiety and academic pressure

____________________________________________

“This suuucks.“, Bokuto groaned next to you, ruffling his spiky hair in frustration, “How is a person supposed to remember all of this at once? I feel like my head is about to explode. I need like a second brain in a jar for extra storage. I could bring it with me to the exam and … use a plug or something to harness its knowledge. Yeah! Oh, y/n, I think I‘m really onto something here. Y/n? Hello? Earth to manager?“

You felt a finger poke your shoulder, but didn‘t respond. The words on the page before you had begun to blur and you noticed, with a start, the familiar stinging pressure building behind your eyes. Thick tears soon spilled onto your notes, smearing the ink. “Y/n-chan.“, Bokuto sounded worried when he poked you again, a little gentler this time, “Was the brain thing too gross?“

“I can‘t do it.“, you muttered.

“Do what?“

Your shoulders began to shake, sobs formed in your throat.

“Hey… hey, what‘s going on?“ The captain put an arm reassuringly around your shoulder. A couple of whispers made him look up. Students strewn about in the library had turned their attention to the blubbering, hiccup-ing mess next to him, some peeped out from between bookshelves.

It was rare for Bokuto to become angry. In fact, you had only ever seen it once and it was probably the scariest you had ever experienced the tall, usually bouncy sweetheart.

His golden eyes hardened, jaw clenched and in a firm true captain‘s voice he snapped, “Mind your own business!“

The students quickly went back to their notes or busied themselves with dusty volumes.

“Come on, y/n.“, he said, his voice sweet again and pulled you to your feet.

The tears left hot streaks across your chubby cheeks and you felt the mess your eyes, nose and mouth were making but you couldn‘t stop.

Holding your hand securely in his, he led you out of the library and towards the staircase, ignoring the pointing from people you passed. Bokuto dragged you up a flight, then a second, then a third until finally pushing open the door to the rooftop.

As soon as the heavy metal door fell into the lock behind you, he pulled you into his arms and you broke. You bawled. You hadn‘t done that since you were a child and right now it felt like it had been long overdue. Bokuto‘s strong arms just tightened, holding you close and safe. You brought your own arms up to finally hug him back. He leaned down a bit to engulf you further, making sure to cover as much of your shaking body with pressure as he could. He knew from experience that external pressure helped with an anxiety attack. At least he hoped it was the same for you as it was for him… Many times before you had dragged him out of a dark spiral. From thoughts of failure and disappointment and shame. You‘ve never judged him once, hadn‘t made fun of him when you found him hiding under a table for the first time. You simply offered a shoulder to lean on, an open ear and a hug. He was so relieved he could finally do the same for you.

He felt you trying to pull out of his arms and loosened his grip a bit.

You stared at his shoes, your sobs having calmed down but tears were still dripping on the concrete. Your breathing was shallow and ragged. Bokuto dug around in his pockets for a tissue but could only produce a napkin he had left over from lunch. Before your study session he had gotten himself a taiyaki in the cafeteria and some spilled red bean paste was stuck to the middle. Lips pursed in thought he refolded the napkin so he could offer the clean side to you.

“It‘s all I have right now…“

You accepted it gratefully and blew your nose.

He used the sleeve of his white school button down to carefully dab at your eyes and cheeks.

“Do you wanna talk about it?“

You shook your head. To be fair, it wasn‘t difficult at this point to put together what had upset you.

He pulled you in for a second round of hugs, this time gently running his large hand over your back.

“It‘s all gonna be just fine.“, he said quietly, “And I know, it‘s not much but even if you don't ace every single test, the team won‘t think less of you. We‘ll still love ya.“

You gave a hollow chuckle and he added pressure again to his hold.

“Thank you.“, you mumbled into his shirt.

“You are so very welcome, y/n-chan.“

You let go of him and took a somewhat deep shaky breath, feeling your tears ebb away.

“You know what always helps me? Besides you, that is.“

Still sniffling, you looked at him curiously.

He held up a finger for you to signal to pay attention, then stepped into the middle of the roof, took a deep breath and let out a long scream.

Your eyes widened in panic and you tried to shush him but he just shook his head and came over to get you to join him.

“Come on, give it a try. It‘s pretty awesome.“

“I don‘t know…“

“Come on, we can do it together. On the count of three.“

You couldn‘t believe you were doing this. But sure enough when he finished his countdown you filled your lungs as much as you could and yelled.

You felt the tension subsiding and with another deep breath, screamed again. Bokuto grinned and cheered you on.

“HEY, WHATEVER YOU ARE DOING UP THERE - STOP IT!“, you heard a teacher scolding from the courtyard below.

And you broke into hysterical giggles. It took a while to come down from the laughing fit.

“How do you feel?“, Bokuto asked, beaming.

“Better. So much better. Thank you so much.“

“Great! Come on, we have one last thing to do.“

And he grabbed your hand again to pull you along just as before.

You stopped in front of his locker. Once opened, he gave you a slightly smooshed packet of wet wipes you used to clean your face, then with his signature confident grin he reached for something between his books and held up a handful of little chocolates.

You frowned in confusion. “Why do you have these? You don‘t like mint-chocolate.“

“I know.“, he said and a light blush crept into his cheeks, “But you do.“

____________________________________________

a/n: this got so out of hand. Thank you very much for your sweet words! I hope it’s a kind of comfort you were asking for 🌟 thank you for the request!

#sunnys lemonade stand #bokuto x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto kotaro #bokuto #hq bokuto #bokuto x reader #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto koutarou #bokuto fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu comfort #bokuto comfort

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jjkamochoso · 5 days

Text

Imagine… Making Lemonade for Levi on a Hot Summer Day

Fluff

Postwar!Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

Warnings: none

The summer heat was scorching down on you as you stretched out on a lounge chair in your backyard, soaking up some sun. You were enjoying your lazy day, getting some much needed Vitamin D. You flipped through a magazine, your mind still blown by the fact that the glossy pages had entertained people for much longer than you had even known they existed. There were many things in Marley that were completely new to you and every trip to the market was filled with enchantment as you learned of all the wonders that had been held from you in your previous life in Paradis. Now, you and your boyfriend Levi were living it up together in your cottage and you couldn’t be happier. Speaking of Levi, you had a fantastic view of the raven haired man while he was hard at work, tending the garden. His white shirt was clinging to his sturdy back as he dug the spade into the dirt, his arm muscles flexing with each movement. When he was finished planting, you saw him lean back a little as he wiped the sweat that had accumulated on his forehead. The extra moisture made his whole body glisten; he looked absolutely divine and you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. He cocked his head, finally acknowledging your unbridled interest in his figure.

“Didn’t your parents teach you that it’s rude to stare?”

“There’s no harm in admiring the spectacular view in front of me,” you said, cheekiness apparent in your tone. Levi scoffed and rolled his eyes, getting back to the task at hand, but you could tell that you flustered him a bit with your flirting as the pink tinge that now graced his face wasn’t just from the heat. You tried putting your focus back on your magazine but you started to feel quite parched. You decided to go inside and make some lemonade for yourself and your handsome boyfriend. You gathered everything you needed and began to squeeze the lemons. When you got enough juice, you made a simple syrup on the stove, then poured both of those and lots of water into a giant pitcher, mixing it all up. Taking out two tall glasses, you filled them up to the brim with ice and the lemonade, enjoying the relief of the cold that seeped onto your hand. You left your glass inside so you had an empty hand to open and close the back door and headed into the warmth of the outdoors.

“I got something to cool you down, hottie,” you greeted Levi, this time earning a groan and an eye roll.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” he chided, shaking his head when you attempted to wink at him. Though he found your antics silly, he also thought you were completely adorable with the way you showed your affection toward him. Putting words to his feelings was never his forte so having a partner like you, comfortable in expressing your attraction to him, was something he was extremely grateful for. You reached out your unoccupied arm to help steady Levi as he stood up from the ground, his legs shaky from exertion. You held up the glass of lemonade for him to take a sip from, hoping he wasn’t dehydrated from his time under the sun. He put his lips around the straw and took a long drink, eager to quench his thirst.

“Y/n, that’s really good. Thank you,” he said, giving you a close lipped grin.

“Of course,” you replied, brushing a stray piece of hair from his face. He suddenly got shy from the intimacy of your gesture, opting to study the ground instead of your face, though he still leaned on you as you helped him walk over to the patio where a chair in the shade was waiting for him. You sat him down and retrieved your own drink from inside the house before sitting in the chair next to him.

“Thank you for all your work,” you told Levi, a kiss lovingly placed onto his cheek. “The garden is beautiful. The flowers are going to look phenomenal this year.”

“Not as phenomenal as you look now,” he observed, meeting your eyes once more as you gasped.

“Levi! How uncharacteristically suave that was!” you exclaimed, playfully holding a hand over your mouth in faux shock.

“Tch. I can be romantic, you know.”

“Wow, I can’t believe I got the Levi “Loverboy” Ackerman to fall for me. How lucky am I?” you asked, swooning. “Ooh, maybe next time you can garden shirtless and give me a real show. It’ll be like those romance novels Hange always told me about.”

“Just drink your damn lemonade,” muttered the man, failing to hide the tenderness that appeared on his facial features at the sound of your laughter. You couldn’t contain your giggles, trying your best not to choke on your drink and Levi wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer and enjoying this carefree moment with you. The lemonade was the perfect drink for the perfect day with the perfect love of your life.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader fluff #levi fluff #levi ackerman #levi x reader #captain levi #snk levi #snk x reader #snk fanfiction #aot x reader #levi aot

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 2 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley takes you back to his hotel room, and things between the two of you feel as perfect and intense as they did ten years ago - and not just physically.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, swears, and angst

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!

Check my profile for my masterlist

"Sugar," he groaned. "Please tell me you're coming back to my hotel room."

Without any hesitation whatsoever, you leaned in and whispered, "Yes."

When Bradley shifted again on the bar stool and slowly stood up, you could feel his hard length rubbing against your belly. You were pressed snug against the front of him, your hands exploring his abs and chest through his soft shirt.

He kissed your forehead and dug in his back pocket for his wallet while you marveled at how tall he was. He had always been tall and strong, but he wasn't so slim anymore. He looked like he could handle tossing you around a bit in bed, and now you were getting really wet for him.

You watched him pull a fifty out of his wallet and hand it to the bartender. "Let me get your change," he told Bradley.

"Keep it," Bradley grunted in return, gathering up your purse and phone with one hand and guiding you away from the bar with his other hand at your lower back.

"Where's your hotel?" you asked, still all over Bradley as he tried to guide you around everyone entering the bar for the evening.

"Across the street," he rasped, pushing you back against the exterior of the building as soon as you were outside. You could feel the rough bricks digging into the backs of your arms as Bradley pressed against you with his body.

"I fucking missed you, Sugar."

That's all it took. Both of your hands were at the back of his neck pulling his mouth to yours. He had you pinned in place, mouth mashing against yours as he tasted your lips and parted them with his.

He was so solid and warm, and the humidity of the evening air was adding to your adrenaline rush. Nobody had ever felt as good as Bradley. You moaned into his mouth as he tasted your teeth, earning you his knee right where you wanted it again.

You basked in the pressure of his leg against your clit through your underwear, underneath your dress. Vaguely you were aware that there were other people out tonight; it was dark, but the soft street lamps only allowed for so much privacy. But you didn't care, and Bradley didn't seem to either.

When you rubbed yourself slow and steady up and down his thigh, he took your chin between his thumb and fingers a little roughly. You gasped and let your eyes meet his as your head was tipped back against the bricks.

"Yeah... I remember everything," he told you. "That study room is burned into my mind. The things you let me do. The way you made me feel. Fuck, Sugar! How was I supposed to forget that?"

"Bradley!" you whined, and his lips found yours again as his fingers tangled in your hair.

So he thought about the study room, too. Kissing, studying, laughing, and sex; that's what you pictured every time. It had been perfect.

And now he felt so familiar; you knew the patterns of his scars and the shape of his face by heart. But he also felt brand new, the way his mustache grazed your neck when he kissed you there. He was sucking gently and then soothing you with his tongue.

"Missed you," he whispered against your skin. You clenched around nothing as his hand skimmed down your neck and over your collarbone to your breasts. "Come to my room."

"Please," you gasped, immediately missing and still craving the friction of his leg when he removed it.

"Jesus, Sugar," he hissed, squeezing you tighter around your waist. "Holy shit."

Your jaw dropped open when you saw that he was looking at the wet spot that you left on his thigh.

"Oh my god," you blurted out. But he was scooping you up into his arms, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as if you did this with him all the time. Bradley kept your purse in his hand and carried you to the corner to wait for the crosswalk light like you weighed nothing.

You kissed his neck as he checked for traffic before just jaywalking toward the hotel. He held you tight to his abs as he went and told you, "You can go ahead and get my shirt wet too. I don't mind one bit."

With a smile, you pressed your core a little more snug against him. "I guess I missed you, too, Beer Boy."

Bradley carried you through the hotel lobby as you ran your fingers through his hair and teased his mustache with your lips.

You snorted when the concierge desk employee said, "Welcome back, sir. Have a good night."

"Oh, I will," Bradley promised with a smile. Then he kissed you as he jammed the elevator up button a few times and pressed your back against the wall. "I'm gonna have a great night, right Sugar?"

"I'll see to that," you whispered against his lips.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, ducking inside the elevator as soon as the doors opened. He set you down in the corner and reached behind him to select the fifth floor, and then you were pulling him back toward you. "I'm right here," he promised.

You wanted him everywhere. You were wet and so ready for him. You moaned his name in the small space, and you'd never sounded so needy before. He still had your purse in one hand, and some of your lipstick was smeared on his lips. His hair was practically standing on end from your fingers, and his pupils were so wide.

"Is that true, what you said at the bar?" he asked, voice rough as you felt his free hand slip up under your dress. "In ten years, nobody else could make you cum quite as good as me, Sugar?"

Your head tipped back against the wall as he squeezed the back of your thigh. "Yes. It's true."

He grinned. "Well, I'm glad we're on the same page here." He handed you his key card and scooped you up again. "Nothing else is quite as sweet as Sugar."

You were sucking on the side of his neck as he carried you to his room and positioned you so that you could open the door.

"I want you," you told him as soon as he had you in the room with the door slamming shut. And immediately you were on your back on the bed, knees bent and thighs spread wide as Bradley's body weight pushed you down into the soft bedding. He was hard in his pants and rubbing you through your underwear. Your head was already tipped back as he kissed your neck and palmed your breasts through your dress.

"I want you too, Sugar." He teased your nipples and said, "You still like skipping a bra sometimes? I used to love that."

Your only response was a pitiful moan as his hands traveled down and yanked your dress up to your waist. Before you had time to register the cold air on your skin, Bradley had pulled your underwear to one side and started kissing your pussy.

He was pushing your thighs wide with his big hands as he licked you up and down. "Still so sweet," he whispered against your clit before wrapping his lips around you and sucking.

You hadn't been with a man who was good at this in so long. And Bradley was very good. He eased two fingers inside you while he licked and sucked on you, and you just knew you were coating his mustache.

It should have been embarrassing how fast and hard you came for him after rocking against his face. But he seemed to remember just what you liked, and his technique was even better now. Your legs were shaking and you could tell you soaked his face when you came.

You were gasping for air and rubbing your hands over your face as Bradley licked your wetness off your thighs. You let him remove your shoes and then guide your underwear down your legs.

"That was quick, Sugar," he said, panting a little and guiding his hands under your dress to pull it higher up your body. He was rock hard, his dick grinding against your core as he moved. "Nobody been taking good care of you?"

You arched your back to help him and then shook your head, saying, "I blame your mustache. It's lethal!"He smiled and guided his left hand higher beneath your dress, and your eyes fluttered closed as he traced your tattoo of Euler's identity.

"I haven't stopped thinking about this in ten years. Right there, by your tits. Everyone's looking at you all day, and they have no idea you've got this titty tattoo that I've been dreaming about for a fucking decade."

You whispered, "Beer Boy," and his lips were on yours again. You let him push the dress all the way up and over your head and toss it to the floor. And whether you liked it or not, he was about to see your newer tattoo as well, so you let him kiss along your skin until his eyes cracked open and he froze.

"Sugar," he gasped, pausing over your body. He read the words a few times before meeting your eyes again. "The Grateful Dead?"

You moaned as his hands both came to rest just below your breasts, caressing you there. You were suddenly feeling shy. You got the lyrics tattooed below your math tattoo shortly after your move to Chicago.

Bradley's lips met the ink with reverence. "I sang that song to you." When he looked up at your face, you just nodded.

He kissed you there again and rubbed his nose along it as well. "Did you get this because of me?" he asked so softly.

"Yes."

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

Bradley thought he was going to pass out. You had a second tattoo below your math equation. And it was lyrics from one of his favorite Grateful Dead songs.

You don't know how easy it is to love you.

He wanted to make love to you now and tomorrow and next week. "Did you get this because of me?" He needed to know.

"Yes." You said it so simply. Like all of this should make perfect sense to him. As if Bradley should have known he was just biding his time for ten years until he could have you again. He had never been more turned on by anyone in his life than he was by you for those few months during senior year of college. And today.

He groaned Sugar and nipped at your skin and your breasts until you were pulling his shirt over his head and unzipping his pants. He yanked them down along with his underwear and tossed them near your dress.

You were looking at his body the way most women did. But he had to smile, because you had looked at him the same way when he was twenty one years old and nowhere near as muscular. Bradley eased himself down to kiss you like he was doing a pushup, and your lips met his with a smile. He'd be lying if he wasn't looking at your body the same way; you were curvier now, and your ass and tits looked bigger. This felt like a dream.

Bradley groaned when you guided your hands along his back and shoulders as your wet pussy cradled his hard cock as he dragged himself against you. "You feel so good," you gasped when he pulled his lips away from yours.

But now he was groaning. "Doctor Sugar, I don't have any condoms with me." He kept rubbing himself along your wetness, praying you'd still let him fuck you.

"That's okay. I have an IUD," you told him, gently grasping his length and guiding him inside your perfect pussy. "And you're the only guy I ever let skip a condom."

Bradley growled at the combination of your wet warmth and your words. "Sugar, you're killing me." He felt like he was still yours. Like he had never belonged with anyone else. And all the little gasps and moans you made while your fingers dragged through his hair made him throb for you.

"I want..." you began as Bradley started to thrust. "I want you to make me stupid."

In a split second of realization, Bradley knew with certainty that he was the only man who could render you dumb with his body. So he fucked you hard and steady, and listened to you getting louder.

"Oh, you're such a good girl."

You only seemed capable of whining his name now as he filled you up over and over. He held your bucking hips down with one hand on your hip and went harder while he touched and tasted your chest. He was never going to stop touching you. He'd do anything you asked of him.

Your breathing was erratic now, and he felt those first flutters of your orgasm squeezing his cock. He pressed his forehead to yours, grinding into you with both hands at your waist.

"Sugar... tell me you'll stay with me all night. I need you to stay."

"Okay," you promised with tears in your eyes, and when Bradley added his fingers to your clit, you started to come. He could feel himself moving inside you against his fingers, and everything was too much. With a loud, strangled noise, he came inside your pussy and let your body squeeze everything from him.

Then your movements were languid, and the fucked out look on your face, complete with dazed smile, had him wanting to keep his cock buried deep inside you. Your fingers moved lazily through his hair, and Bradley knew he must look ridiculous from how much you'd been touching it. He nudged his nose along your softly swollen lips which had you kissing his mustache again, something he never knew he needed in his life.

"Beer Boy?" you asked softly.

"Yeah, baby?"

You pressed your lips together to stifle your smile. "I need the bathroom."

"Right," he groaned, slowly withdrawing himself from inside you. He helped guide you toward the edge of the bed, but his movements stalled as he watched the mess he had made inside you come dripping out. He pushed your legs wide and prevented you from standing up.

"Did you make a mess?" you asked with a light laugh.

"Oh... it's fucking beautiful." He rubbed his fingers through his cum before it dripped onto the bedding, and then he watched you take his wrist and guide his fingers to your mouth.

"I've never had a creampie before," you whispered, licking his cum and your own wetness from his fingers.

"Shit... I'll give you as many as you want, Sugar."

You looked up at him, a little shy as you kissed his cheek and made your way into the bathroom. Bradley cleaned himself off with some tissues and then dropped back onto the bed. The last thing he wanted to do was make you shut down at all. As he ran his hands over his face, he recognized that being around you still made him feel good. Just like it always had.

But shit, he was itching to ask you more about that new tattoo. When did you get it? Did you think of him every time you looked at it? Did you remember how many times he had sung those lyrics to you? Because he did; nine times. It was nine times that he sang to you about someone arbitrarily being easy to love. But really, saying 'I love you, Sugar' had been on the tip of his tongue each time.

When you came back from the bathroom, Bradley sat himself up on the edge of the bed. You strutted back toward him, tapping your lips nervously. "This feels so surreal. I half expected you to have disappeared by the time I came back out here."

He just shook his head and reached for you. "I'm not going anywhere."

That seemed to set your mind at ease, because you smiled at him before you came to stand in front of him. Bradley eased his thighs apart so you could stand between them, and he looked up at you as he let his hands settle on your waist, guiding you closer.

"I didn't let myself believe you'd be here this weekend," he whispered, stroking your tattoos and placing a kiss between your breasts. "Couldn't get my hopes up like that."

You melted against him as your hands found his shoulders. "Can we cuddle?" you asked softly. Bradley pulled you down into his lap and turned so that his head rested on the pillows, and your head rested on his chest as you both sprawled out together on the bed.

You shivered against him when he wrapped his arm around you. "Too cold, Sugar? I'll turn the air conditioner down."

"No," you demanded, keeping him in bed with both arms around him. Instead you and he burrowed under the covers and you settled down on his chest again.

"Comfy?" he asked.

"Very," you murmured against his neck.

Bradley rubbed your back for a few minutes, working up the nerve to ask you what was on his mind. He cleared his throat. "You wanna tell me about that new tattoo of yours?"

"It's not exactly new," you whispered. "I got it when I moved to Chicago."

Bradley's arms inadvertently wrapped around you a little tighter. "You really missed me?"

You looked up at him and nodded. "Enough to get a damn tattoo."

Bradley grinned at you, and then his stomach started growling.

"Hungry, Beer Boy?"

"Is that pizza place we really liked still around?" he asked, kissing your nose. "I'm feeling real nostalgic today."

You smiled. "Yeah! It's still open. Same angry guy making the pizzas, too."

"Well, holy shit. Wanna share one with me?"

The way you were looking at him was too familiar. Your smile grew as you agreed with his pizza idea, and Bradley kissed you as he told you not to move. He stood up to retrieve his phone, and your eyes tracked his every move.

"You still like the same toppings?" he asked as he found the phone number online.

"Yes," you said with a laugh. "You remember what I like on my pizza?"

"I told you, I remember everything."

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

You listened to Bradley order your favorite kind of pizza, and then he joined you in bed again. He was just so sexy now. Lord, he had always been adorable and sweet, but this was unbelievable.

And you did realize there was still a lot to talk about, especially if you were going to spend the whole night here with him. But you weren't in any rush to make things awkward, especially since he was gently rolling you onto your back again and easing himself on top of you with a grin.

"Alright, Professor Sugar. Tell me more about these schools you're looking at. Where were they? Miami and San Diego?"

He was eyeing you with a look you couldn't quite place. He seemed anxious, maybe, to know which colleges were trying to hire you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he used his massive biceps to hold himself just above your body. "Yeah. Miami and San Diego. I'm planning on visiting both in person in the next two weeks. Want to see which one I like more."

You were bending your knee and easing your thigh up around his hip, trying to keep your composure as you could feel him getting hard against your leg.

"Hmm, yeah, it's a good idea to look at both options. What criteria do the schools need to meet for you to want to move there?" he asked in his soft, raspy voice as you ground your core up against him.

"Um, well they need to have updated lab facilities," you said, your eyes drifting closed as Bradley kissed your neck. "And, I'd need a really impressive office, you know, if I'm going on tenure track."

"Sure. Absolutely," he agreed, and now you were feeling up his biceps.

"And of course, I can't work at a university that has a library with subpar study rooms," you said. A laugh escaped your lips as he gently bit your neck.

"And just who are you going to test out those rooms with, Sugar?"

"Nobody," you promised as he teased your earlobe with his mustache.

"Ah, some solo action, then. Nothing wrong with that."

You both jumped as the hotel room phone rang. "Must be the pizza," Bradley said, kissing a trail across your chest and ending at your tattoos. You were already turned on again, and watching him parade across the room with a half hard dick was not helping you calm down. He answered the phone as he started to pull his pants on, skipping the underwear. Then he pulled his shirt on and walked back to the bed.

"I'll be right back, Sugar," he said, placing a kiss on your lips before grabbing his wallet and the room key. "If you're cold, grab something out of my bag."

You nodded and climbed out of bed, making the decision to turn the air conditioner down and then stopping by Bradley's open suitcase. You saw a quirky looking Hawaiian shirt and slipped it on, doing the two middle buttons to keep it closed. Then you moved everything off to the side of the desk and took a seat on top, saving the chair for him, just as the door opened.

"Fucking pizzas cost twice as much now, if you can believe it," he muttered as he came to stand in front of you. You reached for the box, but he pulled it away and shook his head slowly. He set the box down on the wheeled chair and then kicked the chair a few feet out of his way. "You look good in my shirt."

"Do I?" you asked, glancing down at yourself. "I was just kind of cold, and you told me I could-"

His mouth was on yours, cutting your sentence short, and you were reaching for his pants zipper. He moaned into your mouth as you carefully got his fly open, and his erection sprang to attention.

Bradley spread your legs apart just as you were clenching against nothing. "I want you," you whispered against his lips, and he was gently guiding you closer to the edge of the desk.

"I'm all yours," he told you, pressing just the tip of himself into your pussy.

You wanted more. Your body was demanding more as you clenched and clenched. But Bradley was taking his time undoing those two buttons and sliding deeper, one slow inch at a time. He ran his fingers along your nipples, and you were already practically shaking.

"Fuck me again. Fuck me hard like you did on the beer pong table."

Bradley's eyes were so lust filled, you almost screamed as he slammed his cock all the way deep inside you. He was going so hard, you were grabbing along the wall behind you, searching for something to hang on to while he held your hips.

"I fucked you so hard on the beer pong table, because you were wearing that ridiculous little skirt. Somehow, this shirt on you is even hotter," he said, gasping for his words.

You were getting loud; you should have been covering your mouth, but your hands finally grabbed on to something to keep you upright as Bradley railed you.

"Oh shit," you cried out, accidentally knocking the lamp on the floor with a crash, but neither of you stopped going. You gave up and grabbed his shoulders, and somehow he went even deeper as you spread your legs wider for him.

The wet sounds and his skin slapping against yours had you reeling. You were going to need this all the time again. Your head tipped back and Bradley brought his mouth down to your nipple, sucking hard as you came.

No other man had ever managed to give you three orgasms, let alone three in two hours!

"Oh fuck, Bradley!" you moaned, and you saw his face and neck tense up before going slack. He bottomed out one last time and groaned. His sweaty forehead came to rest against yours, and as you both caught your breath, he kissed you so gently.

"I always did like sharing my clothes with you."

You giggled against his lips, threading your fingers through his hair again while you kissed him.

And this time his cum dripped out onto the desk. Bradley offered to get a washcloth to clean you and the table, but he just stood there, looking at your spread legs and smiling. Finally his eyes snapped up to yours before he went to the bathroom to help you get cleaned up.

"Don't step on the broken lamp," he reminded you as he helped you off the desk and guided you into his arms.

The fact that you ended up eating cold pizza while straddling Bradley Bradshaw on a desk chair in a hotel room was so surreal. You'd have never believed it if someone told you that this morning. But he was kissing your neck and nudging your breasts with his nose between bites, and you were telling him funny stories about your students.

You couldn't remember being this happy in such a long time.

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

You were going to wear him out, and he was one hundred percent here for it. When the pizza was finished, you lured Bradley into the shower with you. He could remember how it felt when you showered together in his fraternity house, and this was just as good.

But now he was afraid he was going to get his heart broken by you a second time. He had dated Miranda for almost a year before ending things two months ago, and she never made him feel this way inside. He had dated you for less than four months ten years ago, but he always kind of felt like he never got over you.

And now it was abundantly clear that he hadn't.

"You okay, Beer Boy?" you asked softly, looking up at him as you ran your fingers through his hair to rinse out the shampoo. "Or maybe I should be calling you Beer Man now?" you asked with a smile. "You're so grown up."

He just shook his head. "I'll always be your Beer Boy, Sugar."

You let your palms come to rest on his cheeks, and you were gently rubbing his mustache again like you did at the bar. "Do you want to be my date for the reunion?"

"Hell yes," he whispered immediately, making you giggle again. "I'd love that."

"Me too," you whispered with a yawn. Bradley turned off the shower and got you bundled up in a towel.

"Here, I grabbed you a toothbrush when I was in the lobby. And you can use anything from my bag there," he said, kissing your cheek and then leaving you in the bathroom with some privacy.

He pulled on some clean boxers and then dug one of his tee shirts out of his bag for you. Oh, he was screwed now. Asking you to sleep over with him was probably a bad decision he would never recover from. But he was having a hard time regretting it at this moment, when you walked naked out of the bathroom and right into his arms.

"I'm chilly," you said with a little pout.

Wordlessly, he pulled the shirt over your head and guided you to the bed once again.

"I'll keep you warm," he promised, climbing into bed behind you. He let you get settled, and then he wrapped his arm around you and acted as your big spoon, something he remembered doing before.

"Will you tell me about flight school and the Navy?" you asked softly as Bradley kissed the back of your neck.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Bradley told you about how cold it was in Rhode Island and how everyone made fun of him for whining about it all winter. You told him that's how you felt in Chicago, too. Then he told you about all of the different places he lived; barracks and apartments and sad rental housing. He told you about the first time he flew an F/A-18 solo. And he tried to describe what it felt like to take off and land on the deck of an aircraft carrier.

He left out the parts where he missed you so much that he occasionally cried and was rather moody, and found it hard to make friends at first. But he did tell you about Nat and Bob and how much he loved his friends now.

Bradley thought you had fallen asleep by how soft and even your breathing was, so he was surprised when you asked him where he lived now.

He gently caressed your side and belly with his big hand, trying to figure out how to tell you where he lived. If you were seriously considering a job at San Diego State University, he didn't want you to know that he lived there and worked at Top Gun.

He had to stop himself from indulging in a fantasy where you chose that school to be near him. Where you wanted to date him again.

No, it was better if you made this decision on your own, because he was also selfish. He didn't want to feel the rejection of telling you where he lived only for you to choose Miami.

"West coast," he whispered, holding you tight as you hummed in response. And now you really were drifting to sleep, and Bradley was drifting off into a dream where you never broke up with him in the first place.

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

They really have a lot they should talk about... Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

PART 3

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xoitadori · 4 months

Text

→ HYPOCRITE [ part one ] ⸺ itadori. y ۵

۵ contains - fluff, angst, mentions of blood, mentions of fighting, body shaming, bullying, enemy!yuuji/bully!yuuji, mature language, physical violence, physical touch, mentions of fire, alcohol use, AFAB!reader.

۵ summary - you and Yuuji go to the same high school, as well in the past, attending the same middle school. Yuuji was a golden boy growing up, favourited by many teachers and students. in middle school, he never picked on you or bullied you, more so, just ignored you, but now.. in your senior and last year of high school, all he does is tease you. teases you for not being as bright and like-minded as he is, or as popular. he teases you every chance he gets, but when it comes to others treating you the same, he gets.. violent.

AN HOUR BEFORE -

۵ you had been invited to a bonfire, hosted by Todo Aoi, a friend of Yuuji. since you never attended any of the parties he hosted, your friends, Maki and Nobara insisted that you’d go.

you weren’t too big on things like this. you’d rather just stay home and study, like you usually did, but you felt left out, since everyone in your grade was attending, you did too.

you showed up in a simple cotton sweater and sweatpants. yes, your outfit was lazy, but it was cold out, and you didn’t wanna freeze, no matter how you looked or what you had on.

and here you were, sitting with the popular kids in your grade, looking so out of place, so uncomfortable. it was mostly jocks and their girlfriends, making out against trees, drinking, pissing in any bush they found for fun, the usual.

you sat in between Todo and Noritoshi, sitting on a wood log that almost dug into the soft and thick sweatpants you had on. your legs bounced with anxiety as you heard the soft breaths of both of the boys beside you.

Yuuji sat across from you. fuck, you tried not to make eye contact with him, especially when there was a drunk girl fawning over him and playing with his hair right in front of you.

I bet he enjoyed seeing you so uncomfortable, watching your eyes rise and fall over his muscular body. he made eye contact with you once, and held it for a little while, before you were interrupted by Todo, staring you down, obviously judging you.

“this is a bonfire, and you wore that?” he teased, shaking his head as he looked you up and down. all of the girls were wearing more revealing clothes, showing off their cleavage. but you weren’t like that, you never dressed like that, and as Yuuji sipped his beer, he knew that, too.

“I-it’s cold.. I didn’t wanna get sick.” you heard laughter around you as you spoke up, looking at Todo as he leaned in close to you, a look of disgust on his face as he eyed you up and down. “no wonder you’re wearing oversized clothing,” his lips formed into a twisted smirk. “you’re a lot fatter than a little bit ago, huh? maybe you should slow down on the food, fatty.” Todo laughed, shaking his head in disbelief as he sipped his beer, beginning to speak with the rest of the students.

you hated feeling humiliated. your eyes watered as you kept your head down, not wanting anyone to look or see you. every single student was laughing at you, except for one, unexpected student.

you heard beer glass shatter, hearing the movement of body shifting and standing up, as well as the fire cracking with every second.

“fuck is your problem, Aoi?” Yuuji spoke up, standing as his eyebrows furrowed in fury, his fists curled and tight against his body.

Todo stopped laughing, turning and looking up at Yuuji nervously, his face filled with confusion.

“it’s just a little joke, like we always do, yeah? besides, you know she doesn’t take it seriously-“

“she doesn’t take it seriously? are you fucking mental? she’s crying, you dickhead!” Yuuji shouted, his voice hoarse with emotion.

Todo stood up, the crowd around them gasped. if Todo spoke another word that Yuuji didn’t like, he’d be pinned to the ground and beaten to a pulp.

“you act like you don’t say the same shit all the time. what the fuck man?” Todo grunted, standing straight in front of Yuuji, both of them eying each other down.

you kept your head down. you knew people were staring at you, whispering and gossiping about what’s happening.

“we’re really doing this, huh? because you can’t take a simple joke??” Todo laughed, shoving Yuuji with very little strength.

Todo was twice the size of Yuuji. he was buff, muscular, and tall, but when it came to disrespect, Yuuji didn’t care who it was he fought, he’d always win. (nah I’d win 😂)

you finally raised your head when you heard a loud thud against someone’s cheek, the sound of a fist hitting skin. Yuuji punched Todo straight into his mouth.

Todo coughed, moving his hand to his mouth, licking the blood from his lips. “alright then.” he muttered. they began to tussle, punching and fighting as the surrounding crowd cheered each one of them on. your eyes widened.

you didn’t get it. Yuuji teased you all the time, the same way, but.. he had a problem with Todo doing it?

blood splattered into the fire as they fought. Yuuji had managed to get him onto the grass, his knuckles bruised and beaten, he didn’t care. no matter if he was hurt or not, he’d still keep going and going until the victim of his fists really got his message.

you stood up. Yuuji heard your movement, turning and looking at you, your eyes wide. he stood over Todo, who was curled in a ball from pain. your eyes watered. why was he doing this?

“I don’t wanna hear about this from any body. mind your fucking business.” he looked straight at you, but was speaking to everyone around you. Todo grunted on the ground as Yuuji began to grab his car keys, sipping from an already opened beer bottle, chucking it into a nearby bush.

students ran and surrounded Todo, helping him sit up. you weren’t worried about him, he didn’t deserve it. you were worried about Yuuji and why he got so angry. the look in his eyes, it was like his primal instinct to defend you.

NOW -

you followed Yuuji back to his family home. was it sort of weird to do this in the middle of the night? yeah. yeah it was, but you didn’t care. he humiliated you, nonetheless, is a big fucking hypocrite.

since you biked to the bonfire, you biked to the Itadori house as well.

you parked your bike at the front of the house, running up to the front door. you heard shouting and yelling, a woman and a man’s voice.

you knocked on the door with eagerness, sweat running down your forehead. suddenly, the wide marble door opened, and you made eye contact with Yuuji’s father, Jin.

“is your son here?” your eyes were wide as you looked at Jin, breathing erratically.

“yes.. who are you?”

“a friend.” you gulped, breathing heavy as you fidgeted with your fingers. “I’m worried about him.. can I see him?”

and now, here you stood, in front of Yuuji’s bedroom door, gulping as you reached to open his door, hands shaking. you didn’t know what to expect, what to see, what to hear. you were as nervous as ever.

your hand made contact with the handle as you opened the door, slipping into his bedroom. it was dark, no light source except for the moonlight shining through his rectangular windows. his house was nice.. especially his room, that was barely even visible to you right now.

suddenly, a light flicked on in the corner of your left eye, making your body jump slightly. you turned, your eyes burning into his back, his bare, muscular back. muscles tensing as he shifted, his undercut visible with the tiniest bit of light. he was standing in front of his mirror, staring at himself. you gulped, continuing to stare.

“how did you get in here?” he grunted, obviously upset with the idea of you being here, and seeing him like this.

“your dad let me in.” you spoke up, watching as Yuuji rolled his shoulders, not bothering to turn and face you. a soft breeze came through the window between both of you.

“did he, now? well, apparently I’m asking the wrong question.” Yuuji’s voice was empty, not like how he was with Todo, no, no he wasn’t angry.. he was cold.

his body turned and looked at you, the cuts and blood more visible for you to see. “why are you here, y/n?” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and anger.

“I wanna know what that was about.”

“what are you talking about?”

“you know what I’m talking about.” you frowned, feeling deeply hurt that he tried to act dumb after doing what he had done.

Yuuji sighed, rolling his eyes as he began to walk closer and closer to you, now standing right in front of you. “Todo was being a dick, so I dealt with him.”

“he did the same things you do.”

“so?”

“so that means he’s a dick and you’re not?”

“because that’s different. I’m not him.”

“no, you’re right, you aren’t him, you’re worse.”

“really?” Yuuji raised his eyebrows, a smug smirk on his face as he leaned down towards your face, his soft breath tickling your cheek. “what, do you think you’re special or some shit because I defended you? you’re quite delusional for a smartie pants, huh?”

“what makes you think that I think I’m special?”

“showing up uninvited. acting like my fuckin’ girlfriend and shit.” his dark, honey almond eyes narrowed as he stared you down, pissed with your lack of sense. “why do you have to be so damn clueless all the time?” he grunted, walking past you, his thick shoulder hitting yours.

he reached into his drawers, grabbing a shirt.

“I don’t want you here, get out.” he grabbed a thin, soft grey shirt, focusing on getting it on his body, his eyes away from you.

you bounced your leg, looking straight at him with determination. you were gonna crack him whether he liked it or not.

“no. I’m not leaving.” you crossed your arms, watching him move towards his bed before he stopped, his body relaxing slightly. he turned and looked at you, his eyes slender and narrow. the moonlight shining into his eyes sent you into a trance. he looked.. beautiful. the long scar that contrasted from his right eyebrow diagonally across his nose twinkled. his lips curled into a cruel smile, as if he had some sort of twisted plan.

“oh, yeah?” he smirked, dimples highlighting his grin. “you wanna learn the hard way? like Todo? you want me to hurt you, l/n?” he tilted his head, his eyes scanning you up and down.

“your mouth is too big.. maybe I should shut it for you.” ۵

HYPOCRITE.

PSA - If you read the title, no! this is NOT done yet. I’ve decided to turn it into a mini fic instead of a oneshot 😔 lord have mercy. anywaysss, I didn’t wanna make this too long, cause I hate reading long ass oneshots, so mini fic it is :>

BYE, SEE YOU SOON.

#itadori yuuji #enemies to lovers #bully x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk yuuji #yuuji x reader #anime aesthetic #todo aoi #anime and manga #anime #xoitadori

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darkwolf989 · 3 days

Text

Papi, I didn't mean it (Valentino x Daughter)

TW: Drugs. Overdose. Valentino.

It was the tracker that cued him into her location.

If he was giving credit where credit was due, he had to hand it to her. Very few beings in this world could successfully hack a Voxtech device and get away with it for as long as she had. But as he lifted her unconscious body out of his club's bathroom, the notion that she was too smart for her own good came to mind.

“One of you fuckwits, check the cameras and find out what she took,” Valentino snarled to one of the demons. “And shut down the entire club. Leave only the ones responsible for this. I want them chained to the bar.”

As the demons scurried off to follow his orders, he carried his daughter to the backroom, typically reserved for dancers and dealers. He bit back the fear that wrapped around his heart. No, he needed to keep himself in check. Treat her like he would any other overdose.

“Stay with me, pequeño amor,” he muttered as he laid her on the couch. “Come on, I need you to wake up.”

He did a quick assessment of her vitals. Shallow breathing, fast heart rate. Pale skin, cold to the touch. Could be anything he sold. Or anything that he sold mixed with something else. He ripped off what little clothing she did have on as he frantically examined her body for any sign of what might be coursing through her veins, but came up with nothing. He had enough power in his own club to get the answers he needed. He just hoped they came in time.

“Dragonsvein, sir. Given to her by these three.” A demon yelled, waving a photo as he entered the room. “They laced it with LSD and Cocaine.”

He recognized their faces instantly. Friends, she had told him. Friends from school she was studying with tonight. Or what she was supposed to be doing anyway.

“Did she smoke it, swallow it, inject it, snort it, what?” He snarled. Forget that all three of those drugs were meant only to be one of those options. He had enough at his disposal to ensure she survived this.

“Swallowed it, sir.”

“Fuck.” He pulled open a drawer and dug through until he found the correct drugs to counteract what was in her system. She wasn’t going to die on his watch, but she wasn’t going to like what was going to happen when she came to.

“Come on bebita, I really need you to wake up now,” he muttered as he slid a needle into her vein. He slowly pushed the plunger down.

He heard her gasp and watched her eyes fluttered open. Relief flooded through his chest.

“That’s right, come to Papi,” he muttered as he smoothed back her hair. He looked at the demon as he took off his jacket and carefully placed his daughter inside, closing it tightly to be sure she was covered. “Call the on duty nurse and tell her she has a patient coming in twenty minutes. Have the doctor on standby.” He bent over and checked her pulse again. Good. Stronger now. He carefully sat her up and held her against him.

“Bebita, I need you to drink this,” he said gently. “Come on, get it all in your tummy.” He pushed the straw to her lips. “If you can’t, Daddy is going to have to get it down your throat another way. And you won’t like it, bebita.”

To his immense relief, she gulped it down. Her eyes closed and he carefully laid her on her side.

That was the most he could do for at least ten minutes. He didn’t want to move her if he could avoid it, and ten minutes was more than enough time to deal with the situation outside.

“Watch her and call me if anything changes,” he ordered as he stood up. “Don’t let her roll on her back and if anything happens to her, consider yourself dead.”

The demon bowed. He strode out the door, his overlord self taking hold, transforming him from an intimidating club owner to downright terrifying demon. His crimson wings sprang forth from his back, his teeth sharpened and he could feel his body become something stronger, something less controllable. Anger pulsed through him. Someone would pay for the state his daughter was currently in.

He stood in front of the three three demons and glowered. To their credit, terror played on all their features.

“She called you her friends,” he said in a low growl. “She called you her friends and you betrayed her. Tell me, what exactly did you think would happen after she slipped into unconsciousness? That you would have a good fuck with an almost corpse?”

He took a step forward. Of course they wouldn’t respond. Cowards. The lot of them. He pulled his pistol from its holster.

One. Two. Three.

The echoes of the bullets rang through the empty club. Silence. And then a small voice.

“Daddy?”

He turned around. Shit, not in all her life had she seen her Daddy in this state. His wings retracted and he transformed back into his usual self. Her Papito.

That’s when he noticed the expression on her face. A look he knew all too well.

“Daddy? My tummy hurts.”

His hands barely wrapped around her hair before she unloaded the contents of her stomach on the club floor.

“Come on, let’s get you home, niñita,” he muttered. With any luck, she was still too out of it to remember any of this. He lifted her into his arms and wiped her mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. He would get a new one anyway, he never wanted to think of this night again.

She fell asleep in his arms on the ride home and he carried her up into his studio. Vox and Velvette met him at the door.

“Did you call my wife?” He asked as he carried her through the studio, down to the nurses office. “Did you tell her what the fuck our daughter has gotten into?”

“I left a message on her phone. But she’s probably with Lucifer, dealing with some shit.” Velvette said. “But we’re here.”

“Her vitals are more stable now, what did you give her?” Vox asked, checking his phone as the nurse rushed over.

Valentino laid her on the hospital bed on her side as he filled the nurse in on what was in her system. She left to go pull supplies and Valentino set to work on getting a catheter in her arm.

He felt her shake under his touch. “Daddy? Daddy, I don’t feel good.”

“I know, baby girl. Daddy’s trying,” he replied soothingly. “Daddy’s here.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Vox gently pulled him back.

“Val? Let the doctor step in and do his job.”

“It’s my daughter.”

“Yeah, and unless you’re about to put a tube down her throat, you need to step back and let him work on her. You’ve done everything you can at this point. She’ll be okay because of you.”

“That’s my baby,” he growled.

“Val,” Vox said with a warning in his voice. His eye began to swirl. “Val, look at me.”

Valentino knew better, but he looked to Vox. A false sense of calm washed over him. “Vox, that’s my daughter.”

“Yeah, and that’s our niece about to have her stomach pumped. We’re upset too, Val. But you’ve done all you can right now. Who did this?”

“I killed the friends that slipped it to her.”

Vox sighed. “Of course you did. Then all you can do is wait. Doc thinks she’ll be fine.”

Waiting wasn’t Valentinos strong point. He paced back and forth, anxiety washing over him. This was bad, almost as bad as when he had to wait for his wife to bring her into the world. No, worse, because at the heart of this he caused it- he caused something that he would derive no joy from.

After what felt like too long, the doctor walked out of the back room.

“She’s alright. She’s awake. She’s asking for you, Valentino. And you two,” he nodded to Vox and Velvette.

“Here, fill me in while Val and Vel go back.” Vox said as he pulled the doctor off to the side.

Valentino followed Velvette as he tried to keep himself in check. Now that he knew she was okay, anger washed over him.

“Val? Not the time,” Velvette said quietly outside her door. “Be angry later. Love her and Let her talk now.”

Valentino took a deep breath and exhaled as he pushed the door open.

“Daddy, I’m sorry I didn’t know,” her raspy voice choked out and she burst into tears. “Daddy, don’t be mad I’m so sorry.”

“Beibita. Babygirl. Shush, it’s okay. Daddy is here. Daddy isn’t mad at you. Shush,” he sat on the bed next to her. “Babygirl, calm down. You’re going to be okay and that’s all that matters.”

“Daddy, I didn’t know,” she sobbed.

Valentino felt his heart begin to break. He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her to his chest. “Tell us what happen, beibita.”

“I went to Lucia’s house to study and then, Emila showed up and she suggested we go to Jax’s house and I know I’m not allowed at Jax‘s house so I went but instead Jax’s brother took us here and I wanted to go home but all the sudden I didn’t feel good and, and,” she burst into harder tears. “Daddy I’m sorry.”

“Baby I’m not mad. It isn’t your fault,” he said soothingly as he cradled her. “I’m just not sure how it got into you. Did you get a drink at the bar? Tell me true, I’m going to review the footage with Uncle Vox later.”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, Daddy I know better.”

Velvette looked up from her phone. “Her water bottle,” she said, showing them both the video clip. Together they watched as one of them turned her to talk to them. Behind her, the other lifted the lid of her water bottle. Valentino watched as they poured something into it, gave it a good shake and slid it back. Velvette closed the phone. He could imagine the rest.

“I’m just glad I got to you before it was too late,” Valentino said quietly. “But why did you go in in the bathroom and call me to come get you right away? You knew where you were. You knew you didn’t belong there.”

“Val…” Velvette said in a warning voice.

“I didn’t want to get into trouble, Daddy. I just wanted them to take me home.” She replied quietly.

“Bebita, you will never get into trouble for calling one of us to come get you. I promise, okay?” He pressed her head to his chest. “I would rather come get you and you be safe than ever see you in this situation again. You could have died, Princessa.”

“But she didn’t,” Vox said as he walked into the room. “Doc said the bloodwork they pulled looks good and she can go home tonight as long as we keep a close eye on her.”

“Please, Daddy, can I go home?” She pleaded. “I promise I’ll never, ever…”

“Baby. Stop, you’re not in trouble. Deep breath, inhale. Exhale,” Valentino said gently. “Come on, let’s get you home in your own bed. Come to Daddy.”

Valentino lifted her up effortlessly and carried her up the elevator. As she laid against him, a new fear knotted inside of him.

How was he going to protect his teenage daughter from the world he worked in?

#the vees #valentino x reader #hazbin fluff #hazbin hotel #valentino x you #the vees x reader #vox x reader #valentino #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette

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thewitchandtheassassin · 21 days

Text

Club Midnight (Carol Danvers x Reader)

Summary: A night out goes in your favor.

Words: 932

Warnings: A little mature but not fully NSFW

Taglist: @natasharomanoffswife @natasha-danvers @aaron-despair @username23345 @xjiasx @nowthisisliving27 @higherfurther-romanova @summergeezburr @marvels-writings @onlyafewfindtheway @captain-josslett @hayleyokami @aznblossom @everything201197 @hayleyokami @b-5by5 @lostandsearching @evilcr0ne

-X-

Agreeing to go clubbing with your team had been a… choice.

Tony had suggested it, calling for a celebration of your latest mission. He’d originally suggested throwing an extravagant party but decided he wanted to see the city more, so he’d whisked the team away to Club Midnight and for some reason, you’d stupidly agreed. Maybe it had been the enticement of booze, maybe it had been Wanda’s promise to dance the night away with you.

(Or maybe it was because the great Captain Marvel herself was going and you were desperately hoping to impress her… or end up in a dark corner with her. Whatever came first.)

-X-

Music pounded through your skull as your hips found the beat of the bass. Following Wanda’s lead, you watched colors dance across the witch’s liquor-flushed cheeks, her sweat becoming a galaxy against pale skin.

Vision is a lucky fuckin’ robot, you mused, thoughts loose and free as alcohol coursed through your veins. If Carol hadn’t caught your eye all those months ago, you probably would’ve chased the brunette swaying drunkenly in your arms. Dragged her down a darkened alleyway…

Tossing her head back, Wanda laughed and looped her arms around your neck.

You smooth talker, her voice swirled through your mind like warm honey. But I don’t think Carol would be too pleased if you tried.

“You don’t care what Vision would say?” you wondered curiously, tilting your head with a smirk.

She shrugged, playing with the hair at the nape of your neck with delicate twists of her fingers. “Vision is… comfortable, but he lacks fire. If I had thought I stood a chance with you, I would’ve taken it ages ago but…” she glanced over your shoulder at the glaring blonde, dressed in a simple but tantalizing black dress, lingering near the bar. “Someone claimed your heart long ago and who am I to stand in the way?”

Your smirk faded into a soft, captivated smile. “You are a precious woman, Wanda Maximoff. Don’t settle just because it’s easy.”

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to her hairline affectionately. She burrowed into the embrace for a moment before stepping back with a knowing grin. Your eyes narrowed for a moment before a red glow sent you spinning around, away from the witch.

“Did I interrupt?” Carol questioned, voice gravelly with barely concealed jealousy.

Dragging her into your arms and onto the floor, you wordlessly urged her to fall in with the rhythm of the song. “Not at all, sugar. I was just waitin’ for you to come keep me company.”

Strong fingers dug into your shoulders as Carol matched your actions. Hers were a bit stunted, unfamiliar with such things, but you didn’t mind. Slowly grinding your hips into hers, you stored away every shift in her expression and nearly moaned as her perfect teeth buried themselves in her bottom lip when your thigh slid between her legs for just a moment.

The songs came and went, but all you could see was the haze overtaking blue eyes. Could feel the thrum of your heart beating violently against your ribs. Could taste iron on your tongue when you bit too hard.

As she loosened up, Carol’s cheek found yours as her movements grew more natural. One hand on the back of your neck, one on your shoulder, the smell of her perfume flooded your senses. Her hot breath tickled the shell of your ear.

“I haven’t danced like this in a long time,” she murmured, her lips fluttering just so against the tense flesh of your throat.

Swallowing dryly, you chuckled breathlessly. “I honestly couldn’t tell.”

She stared at you, studying the curve of your jaw and the heat in your gaze. You looked properly debauched and she hadn’t done anything yet. Like you wanted to consume her very essence, as if she were an oasis and you were a dehydrated explorer lost in the desert.

One particular roll of your hips sent the flame in her core rocketing into an inferno, the slick of her thighs noticeable. She briefly wondered if it was leaving a stain on your pants, but the way your head tipped closer to hers drove the thought from her mind.

“I really want to kiss you,” you admitted quietly, watching the emotions flicker in her eyes. “I have for a while.”

Carol shivered at the reverence in your voice. Like she was a goddess you intended to worship thoroughly.

“So do it,” she challenged, her brow barely having the chance to arch before your lips found her. It was a bit messy, tequila lingering on your tongue, but as it traced along hers, she found she didn’t mind. Moaned as your fingers gripped her hips roughly, certain there was a dark, wet spot on your leg.

Pulling back slightly, you panted against her lips. “C’mon.”

You stumbled through the throng of people crowding the dance floor, unbothered by their blatant staring. Carol’s fingers were so warm laced with yours and it grounded you, even as you found a secluded corner away from prying eyes. Her back met the wall readily as you trapped her between the poorly painted space and your body, foreheads pressing together for a moment.

“I really like you,” you whispered, afraid to break the curtain of lust shrouding you both but needing her to understand this wasn’t a drunken romp. “I have for a while.”

Her lips curled into a pleased smile.

“Good,” she purred, fingers curling around the collar of your shirt. “Because I don’t plan on sharing you after this.”

#mcu imagine #avengers imagine #carol danvers imagine #carol danvers x reader #captain marvel imagine #captain marvel x reader #the avengers imagine #reader insert #reader imagine #marvel imagine

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misted-dream · 2 months

Text

🦢 A WALTZ IN THE DARK ₊˚⊹ ˚ ༘ ⋆

ACT III THE CURTAINS FALL. | to the programme

chapter info . . . content the smut chapter. a little bit of miscommunication? warnings oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, profanity, exhibitionism maybe w. count 10k

series synopsis . . . the first and last time you and doyoung danced together was 5 years ago. 5 years since the mishap that founded your mistrust of him, at least as a duet partner. with the annual swan lake showing rolling around, you think you finally stand a chance to audition for the leads: odette and odile. it's every ballerina's dream to play this role at least once in their career. little do you know, rumour has it that kim doyoung just so happens to be auditioning for the role of prince siegfried this year.

tags @00127am @beomgyusonlywife @bloomyroses

If you were to describe your relationship with Kim Doyoung… it’d be a difficult task. If the saying, ‘opposites attract’ were true, then you and Doyoung would be the same pole on a bar magnet. It felt like with every pull comes a stronger push. But all those speculations and theorisations come to a halt as an elbow nudges you in the stomach.

“Hello?” Karina pushes you slightly with her shoulder, knocking you a couple of steps back. “You’ve got to quit staring at him like that.”

“I wasn’t—”

With one raise of her eyebrows, Karina shuts you up. You take a few steps to close the slight distance between you and Karina again, your shoulders pressed up against each other’s. “I was just… zoning out.”

“Sure,” Karina replies brightly, “Zoning out just fantasising about our Prince over there, I bet,” her head nods towards Doyoung across the room.

Now, it’s your turn to give your friend a nudge in the side, wanting desperately for her to stop speaking before anyone else hears you. She can barely hold back her chuckle and all you can do is hope that everyone else is too preoccupied with trying to memorise the sequence to pay attention to your personal gossip.

You were starting to dread these Fridays. With everyone in the company being in the same room at once, you felt like there were too many eyes on you. And Doyoung as well, but they don’t seem to be watching him for every mistake he makes like they do with you. Karina makes you forget about all that for a little bit, though, with her merciless teasing.

“Sorry! Sorry. I just never thought that you two would—y’know,” Karina leans into your ear, about to whisper the next part of her sentence before you stop her.

“Shh! What if someone hears?” You scan the massive stage as dancers line up row by row at the back.

Karina expels a shallow sigh, “Who cares! You two are grown adults, and it’s not like you’re doing anything wrong by kissing him.” She shrugs nonchalantly, watching as another lineup of ballerinas dance across the platform.

You try your best to ignore the acceleration in your chest at the mention of that. You’re not one to regret many things, but you do regret telling Karina about that night; she won’t stop questioning you like she’s some PI.

You run a hand up your opposite arm, giving yourself a slight squeeze on the shoulder. “We still haven’t talked about it,” you mumble.

Karina turns her head towards you and narrows her eyes. You flash a quick glance at her, then another, somewhat uncomfortable with how closely she’s studying you.

After a few moments of what felt more like hours of Karina intently just staring at you, it seems she has come to a conclusion.

She gasps a small breath, “Do you have feelings for him? God, you’re getting into character.”

“What?” You give her a light smack on the arm, “No! I don’t— I’m just bothered that we haven’t spoken in weeks. That’s all.” The words come out of you slowly and articulately, trying your best not to fall into the hole you’ve dug for yourself. One look at Karina’s face tells you that it’s not working as well as you’d hoped it would, though.

She turns her gaze back onto the stage in front of the two of you. Her eyes never leave Doyoung, now in centre stage, as she tilts her head sideways towards yours. “I believe you’ve fallen to what the professionals call, ‘method acting.’”

It was at this moment, that you knew you should never open your mouth about how your night-time practices are going nowadays to Karina if you still want to maintain some shred of dignity.

It’s another one of your customary late nights again. Thanks to this role, you’ve gotten a lot more familiar with each and every crevice of this practice room in the past month than you have in all your years working here.

Dejection seems to be a recurring theme during your OT hours lately. Not that you can help it. Colette’s still on you for not making your turns, though she has toned it down several notches, which is more than you can ask of her. And confronting failure face-to-face continually doesn’t necessarily boost the morale, especially when it’s 10pm and you’ve spent the last few hours by yourself, in silence. Just occasionally cussing yourself; your pointe shoes for giving out; or the wall that you spin into, out.

You sigh as you sit with your legs out in front of you in the middle of the studio, fingers squeezing the tops of your knees. For the first time tonight, you felt tired. You hadn’t paused to even breathe during this session, and now that you have, the weariness you’d built up is catching up to you. Still, there’s a tiny spark of determination within you that refuses to be extinguished—the only thing that’s stopping you from ending it here tonight and going home.

As a last-ditch effort, you pull your knees up to your chest and push yourself off the ground. One last try, for tonight at least, or you’ll end up causing more damage to your feet than you care to admit.

You don’t bother with the music, you haven’t bothered for a while now. Hearing the same build-up over and over again started to feel passionless. And something about it stirs a visceral reaction within you that you really wanted to avoid as much as you possibly can.

So, you position yourself in the very centre of the room. Eyes fixed on the ones staring back at you in the mirror. You spread your weight evenly between your two feet, one in front of you and the other behind. One of your arms round out in a semi-circle out in front parallel to your chest as the other stretches out to the side. You lean your weight slightly onto your back foot.

The room echoes with silence. A deep breath fills your lungs. Your eyes burn holes into the mirror, paying no mind to the stray strands of hair that splay out messily. You roll your shoulders back and straighten your spine. With one last breath, you sink into the heel of your back foot, and with all the remaining strength you can muster up, you push off into the starting turn.

You manage a double on the starting turn before coming back down on your heel to propel yourself up again. Your eyes never leave the spot you’ve marked on the mirror as you make your rounds. Mostly singles, some doubles, and some rare triples. In your head, you’re trying to keep count, but it’s not the easiest when you have multiple other things requiring your full attention.

12, 13, 14. Your heel lands again as you whip your other leg out to the side of you, forcing momentum when you draw it through into passé.

You’re nearly halfway there, and that’s when you remind yourself to not lose the strength in your core. You straighten back up as much as you can between turns, and you keep counting.

You’re starting to feel the inevitable stabbing of your nail against your own toe as you’re making your way through the 20’s. Your breathing is also getting heavier and heavier.

Expectations were low. You often get to this point, but fall short of just the 32 fouettés you need.

26, 27, 28.

You have to admit, there is a certain adrenaline that runs through you whenever you get this close. However, that’s the trap. You get excited, lose focus, and you don’t make it. So, as you catch a glimpse of your reflection, you try to steel the excitement threatening to boil over inside you. 29.

This time, as you come down, you push off again onto your toes with more force than ever, your other leg providing as much assistance as possible.

You spin once, meeting your eyes in the mirror. But you have enough momentum to not have to come down again. 30.

And again. Your gaze lingers as long as it possibly can before you have to whip your head around. 31.

The last, final turn you need. Friction is stretching your force thin. You’re on the finishing turn, and with the last bit of exertion from you, you manage to make a full spin. 32.

You land on your back foot, exhilarated at this small triumph that you shared with yourself tonight. Breath after breath, your chest rises and falls rapidly as you’re trying to blink away the dizziness.

Your arms fall to your sides, planting themselves onto your hips. An overwhelming sense of relief crashes over you as you watch your own reflection. A gentle smile starts to break onto your lips.

Then, something in the corner catches your attention.

Your eye darts over to the door. And what do you know—if this was any other setting, the very thought of being watched would be unsettling, but you should be used to it by now, you suppose.

“That was good.”

You hear it before you can clearly see anything. Perhaps your habit of not turning the lights on late on night does have its cons. But you don’t have to see for yourself to picture who it was in your head: Him and his devilishly handsome face.

On any other given night, you’d put up more of a rejection to his simple compliment and argue that you deserved a rating better than ‘good.’ But tonight, the urge just wasn’t there.

“Thanks,” you breathe out.

He walks in through the doorframe, more of him coming into light as he draws closer to you. With every step that he takes, it’s like your heart threatens more and more to jump out of your chest. Why am I feeling like this? It is the first time you’ve spoken in person since you kissed, yes, but that doesn’t change anything, right?

As he walks closer and closer towards you, the urge to have that sturdy wall of sarcasm you normally put up around you returns.

He stops a few steps short of being in reach of you. The planes of his cheeks highlighted by the glow of city lights outside. The man you’ve tolerated for as long as you can remember, Kim Doyoung, now standing in front of you, and it’s your knees that feel weak.

The thumping of your heart resonates in your ears—it’s so loud that you’re afraid even he can hear it. Trying to push all that down and stuff it into some locked up part of you, you try to think about how to navigate this conversation. Just two colleagues talking after ignoring each other after kissing each other; nothing to worry about.

“So. No lunchbox for me tonight?” You’re hoping that the cheek in your tone distracts from your undoubtedly rosying cheeks. But maybe acknowledging that was the wrong move—too late now.

“Actually, I was just about to leave it outside. But I saw you, instead.” He lifts his hand up and that’s the first time you spot the small, rectangular box in his grip.

You drag your eyes from the box back up to meet Doyoung’s. A beat passes.

Then, you muster up the courage. “Why… are you doing that for me?” You’ve asked yourself this question more times than you can count. Why is he being nice to you? That is strictly out of character for him, if you were to judge.

Doyoung crinkles his eyebrows, as if he’s offended that you’d asked him that question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why are you bringing me…? Every night we’re here. I haven’t asked you to.” You speak slowly, as if you’re carefully treading through a minefield that is Kim Doyoung’s mind and reasoning.

“Skipping dinner’s bad,” he extends his arm out with the box in his hand, signalling for you to take it off of him. You’re reluctant, but he persists. “What? I’m… taking care of my costars.”

Your eyebrows quirk up at his choice of words. He holds it out a few more seconds before his patience wears thin.

“My arm is getting tired.”

And as his last push is met with nothing from you, he drops his hand to his side. Without a word, he scoffs and makes his way over back to where the door is.

“Fine, I’ll just put it in your bag.”

Subconsciously, you follow him as he walks over to the edge of the room, a bit dazed at the man in front of you.

He kneels down, shoving the box through the opening of your bag. When he stands up again, he seems a bit surprised that you’re literally right there behind him. Serves him right for all those other times he’s snuck up on you.

You stare at him and he stares back at you, his eyes widening at your silence, as if to say, “What?” in his typical bratty, condescending way.

“You’re overcompensating.” You shoot out.

“What?” His slight annoyance is replaced by confusion.

“Don’t worry,” your cadence loosens up as does your posture. In a more lax manner, you take a few steps towards the barre on the wall, next to Doyoung. “I’m not some charity case you’re condemned to because you feel bad for whatever.” You place your palms behind you on the barre, feeling somewhat pleased with yourself for having figured out Doyoung’s motivations.

Doyoung himself is slightly amused at your deduction. He leans backwards with his elbows on the barre, his legs stretching out in front of him. He turns his head, eyes looking down at you. “Believe it or not, I don’t see you as ‘charity work.’”

You take a second to still your heartbeat that seems dead set on betraying you with how you felt his breath fan faintly against your shoulder as he spoke. You turn to look him in the eyes, either to prove something to yourself, or to him—you couldn’t be sure.

“Then, why all this?”

Doyoung returns your gaze intently. You hadn’t planned for it, and now there’s no way you’re letting yourself back down. The way he looks at you—into you—hitches your breath. The last time he looked at you like this… You’re not sure you can stop history from repeating itself if he doesn’t stop now.

For a moment, you can swear his irises swirled like liquid pools of obsidian, the sheen in them barely visible under the dimness.

Before Doyoung even tries to come up with a way to talk his way out of this, he gives in. Into you.

In an instant, his lips envelopes yours. You wish you could say you were surprised, but deep down you were screaming at him to kiss you first.

You melt into the softness of his lips. The depth at which he takes you in makes the peck from last time seem like child’s play.

As both of you ease into each other’s touch, Doyoung’s eagerness becomes more and more apparent. One hand cups your jaw and the other settles on your nape, pulling you in as much as he can. Your lips fitted together like they were sculpted for each other. The way his mouth moved over yours as if they were connected to one mind.

Doyoung steps in between your legs, positioning himself in front of you with your back pressed against the wall. He never breaks his lips from yours, not even to take a breath. The hand that he previously had on your neck runs itself down to your waist, grabbing hold of it like he has so many times before. He pulls your torso closer to his, your chests pressed up together, your back slightly arched.

In all honesty, you would’ve expected Doyoung to be more the passive type, but you were gladly proven wrong. The way he presses his lips onto yours is with a force so strong that you’re sure it’s bound to leave your lips swollen and bruised. You don’t know if it’s intentional or not, but a groan rumbles in Doyoung’s throat, and you can feel it with a slight vibration. Your lips can’t help but draw themselves into a small smirk that he assuredly has to have felt.

It is only now that Doyoung pulls himself away from you, or more so pry himself away. In a way, you’re grateful because you don’t know how much longer you could’ve lasted before you completely lose yourself to his touch.

His face parts from yours with both of you trying to catch your breaths as quietly as you can.

With those eyes of his again, he switches between looking at your (only slightly swollen) lips and your eyes. He gently brushes the side of his thumb up your cheek, sliding under the hair that framed that part of your face.

His eyes follow the movement of his thumb, before glancing back at you. Breathily, he whispers, “Does that answer your question?”

It’s your lucky day. Karina had plans for lunch hour today, leaving you sitting alone in the middle of the canteen poking and prodding at your food. At first, you didn’t consider it entirely ‘lucky,’ but the more and more you thought about it, maybe it truly is. After all, if you tell Karina what happened two nights ago, she will no doubt hold it over you ’til the day you die. And not telling her isn’t exactly an option if she asks—she always has a way of getting inside your brain. And even if she doesn’t ask, she could definitely tell something’s up especially with how you’re having to bite back your own smile at random given moments of the day. So all in all, maybe you are lucky, at least for today.

That very sliver of luck lasted only moments, though.

Your eyes are down, staring somewhat blankly at your phone screen in an attempt to seem preoccupied. However, someone sees through your act—or maybe he just doesn’t care for it.

Doyoung slides his tray onto your table, swiftly taking a seat opposite you. You look up at him, watching his very nonchalant actions as if this happens every day.

“What are you doing?” You mutter, perhaps involuntarily. Some part of you is taken aback, another part is confused. Every single time—every one of your encounters with Kim Doyoung felt like a chess game. When you think you’ve seen through his tactics, he reveals that he already has several other countermoves calculated.

Doyoung does what he does best: ignore you. He places his hands on the table, eyes scanning over your tray and his briefly. Then, he lifts his gaze up onto you. “Are you free this weekend?” He asks with an expression on his face that’s a little hard to read. It’s a strange combination of politeness and formality that you’re not used to from him, at least not when directed at you.

“What?” Your response almost comes out as a chuckle. What is he up to?

“Well, if you are, I have two tickets to a show.” He ends his sentence with a small smile on the corner of his lips.

Is he…? Now, you’re almost certain that today is your lucky day because thank God, Karina isn’t here to witness this.

Back to the situation at hand… what are you supposed to make of this? Is this a date? Or maybe you’re jumping to conclusions for even assuming he’s asking you out on a date. Yes, you two kissed, twice. But does that equal a date now?

God.

Does he like you?—Why does that matter?

Stop thinking.

You open your mouth to start saying something, and Doyoung looks at you expectantly. You suck in a quick breath, then your lips purse together. But you have to say something.

“If this is because of the other night, you don’t have to—” You cut yourself off as Doyoung raises his brows, prompting you to go on. “What are you up to?”

Doyoung leans in closer, planting both elbows on the tabletop. He tilts his head slowly to the side, gaze fixed pointedly at you, “You keep thinking I have ulterior motives.”

The urge to push his head back with your finger entertains you for a second, before you shoo it away. “Because this is unlike you. 5 years, and I’ve never seen you speak to someone if you’re not forced to.” You lean back into your chair, folding your arms across your stomach. “You’ve always had a kinda cold, and mysterious aura to you,” you mumble, maybe more to yourself than to him.

That seems to pique his intrigue. “You think I’m mysterious?” His eyebrows lift, exposing his amusement.

“That’s not what I meant,” you refute bluntly. “I just thought you were keeping up an image. The whole, ‘I’m a loner, but I’m still cool’ thing, you know?”

If this whole encounter was a chess game, then you just found checkmate. Doyoung looks at you a bit in disbelief, and maybe slightly insulted.

“You think I—Okay, no,” he shuts you down firmly. He places his hands onto the table again, “Now, the tickets.”

Truth be told, you’ve been thinking about him ever since that night, but you would probably die before ever admitting that.

“I mean, sure. But you’re not denying that you have an image problem.”

At the first sound of your acceptance, Doyoung slides his fingers underneath his tray and is preparing to get up out of his seat. He stands up and tucks his chair in with his free hand. Once again, doing what he does best, he ignores the latter half of your sentence, “Saturday night, 7pm.”

With that, he’s set off in some direction to wherever he’s going. He’s just taken a few steps away and before he’s out of earshot, you follow up, “And what if people talk?”

He doesn’t stop walking away from you with his back turned, countering, “Sounds like you’re the one with an image problem.”

Saturday night, 6:55pm.

Shit.

Apparently, the entire population of Paris decided to get on this very subway all at the same time. The doors slide open but you’re having to budge and shove through row after row of people just to get off the car and onto the platform.

It’s a 10 minute walk and you have 5 minutes. If you don’t run to the theatre, Doyoung will inevitably be complaining about how you’re late for the whole night.

Running is a bit difficult though (and not to mention embarrassing) especially in the heels that you’re in.

You walk as fast as you possibly can out of the station and onto the city streets. The sun is just barely peeking out from the horizon and the lampposts begin to turn on as you weave your way through the avenues.

You’re just a crossing away from the theatre when you spot a particular silhouette. Their back is turned towards you, but you recognise that person as Doyoung. It’s in the way he stands, and the positioning of his feet. It’s undoubtedly him.

His head is down, presumably on his phone. The light turns green and you begin to cross. Just as you’re about to reach the other side of the street, you feel a buzz in your hand. You face the screen towards you. 7:02pm. And as you predicted, Doyoung is already starting his carping. A message pops up on the bottom of your screen, “Are you here yet?”

For whatever reason unbeknownst to you, your lips curve into a tiny smile that you have to force away, ignoring his message at the same time. You walk the couple of steps that separate you and Doyoung.

His back is still turned towards you, completely unaware of your being there behind him. He dons a long, black wool coat that amplifies his already broad shoulders, making him look and feel larger than life. To your surprise, the outfit you’re wearing coincidentally somewhat matches his—a long black dress with a coat over top. If people didn’t know better, they’d probably assume the two of you matched on purpose..

You hesitate before tapping his shoulder lightly with two fingers. His head turns around swiftly. And before you even get the chance to say anything—

“You’re late.”

You can’t resist the urge to roll your eyes and sigh. “By 2 minutes! And look,” You glance downwards at your shoes, Doyoung following your gaze. “You should be grateful I even made it here with two intact ankles.”

Doyoung eyes your heels, chuckling lightly to himself.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he looks at you with a satisfied smile on his face. “We should go in before we’re too late,” he suggests with a dip of his head towards the entrance of the theatre.

You mumble a quiet, “Whatever,” under your breath before you start heading towards the theatre ingress, Doyoung closely following behind you.

The theatre stands majestically. Every single element of it meticulously ornate, as is the rest of the architecture in the city, but this truly was something else. Its facade is adorned with intricate columns and statues sculpted to perfection. The golden lights illuminate the archways between the sculptures, leading to the interior. Every detail of the design echoed a timeless charm and glamour.

You’ve passed by this theatre more than a handful of times, but it’s your first time actually going inside.

“What are we watching, anyway?” You turn your head around to voice, being cautious as you climb the steps leading to the open doors.

“You’ll see,” is all Doyoung responds back with.

It’s your turn to follow behind Doyoung as he hands the tickets to the man standing next to the entrance doors. You glance down at the tickets as the doorman studies them briefly before welcoming the both of you inside.

You give him a polite smile as you pass by, still following Doyoung. You make up the couple of steps between you and Doyoung so that you’re walking parallel to him.

“Swan Lake? Really?”

Doyoung smiles at you gently, “It’s a classic for a reason.”

Three beautifully devastating hours later, the ballet finishes. And Doyoung was right, it is a classic for a reason. No matter how many times you watch Swan Lake, it still manages to completely beguile you. The ballerina they casted for the main role was incredible, undeniably so. It’s then that you begin to question if you should’ve came here tonight. All that it seemed to do was make you doubt whether or not you can give a performance half as enchanting as hers.

You and Doyoung are walking silently next to each other in streets illuminated by nothing but the warm glow of the lampposts. He insisted on walking you home, though he lives in the other direction.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Doyoung utters after a prolonged silence. He steps under the gleam of one of the lamps, highlighting the sharpness of his features as he looks back at you.

The mellow breeze of the night blows softly against you. “They were good.”

“We can do better,” he follows, resulting in you cracking a small smile.

“Cocky.”

“No—Just confident.”

“Fine, overconfident then.”

He takes a big step ahead, balancing on one foot as he tilts his head to catch a glimpse of your face, forcing you to look at him. “And what’s wrong with that? I believe in us.”

Soon enough, the two of you arrive in front of your apartment complex. The chill in the night lingers in the air between the two of you. You mumble a quiet, “So,” under your breath, disguised as a sigh.

Stuffing your hands inside the pockets of your jacket, you rock forwards onto your toes. You suck in a long breath. “Thanks for the date,” you make it a point to highlight the sarcasm in your tone, but really, you were just trying to see his reaction.

Doyoung, however, doesn’t buy your facade. His eyebrows tick up and his eyes glisten with a hint of amusement. “A date, huh?”

“That was a little something called a joke,” you quickly follow.

“Well,” he leans forward an inch or so closer to your face. “Joking or not, we can’t end the perfect date without a kiss,” he mutters lowly as he looks into your eyes.

You stare back at him, frozen. Your heart beats faster and faster with every second that he has his eyes on you. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for any sign from you.

Inching ever so slowly towards him, you drop your gaze onto his lips. Softly, you press a gentle peck onto him. When you lean back and open your eyes again, he’s wearing the faintest trace of a smile on his face that you’re sure has already burned its image into your mind.

“You should really find funnier things to joke about,” Doyoung utters. “Good night,” he whispers as he’s about to take a step back from you.

“Wait,” you reach out and grab ahold of his wrist. There’s an eagerness in your voice that you regret as soon as you spoke aloud. Doyoung looks at your hand wrapped around him, then up at you, causing you to loosen your grip. You know you’re probably going to regret this but—“It’s still early. Do you want to stay for a drink?” Your head and your heart has never worked against each other like this. You regretted it as soon as you made the offer, but your heart was just a beat faster than your mind tonight.

There’s a brief moment of quiet where you’re sure he would say ‘no.’ But instead, he looks down at the ground, biting back his bottom lip before nodding along. “Sure,” Doyoung agrees with an easy shrug.

You lead him into the lobby of your complex silently. The air only seems to thicken with every second that you spend with him by your side, and it doesn’t help that the lift takes forever to arrive. You step inside, your heels clicking against the marble floor, and Doyoung follows along.

He watches your every movement, from your pressing of the elevator buttons to you leaning back against the banister along the walls. You catch his eyes, and he doesn’t even try to hide his observing you.

A chuckle catches in your throat, “What?”

“What?” He echoes you with a certain smugness in his expression.

The lift stops right in time and the doors slide open. You let your eyes linger on Doyoung’s as you walk past him to exit into the hallway. Pulling out your keys from your pockets, you instinctually unlock your door in one swift motion and let yourself and Doyoung in.

Your arm reaches out to the side to flick the kitchen lights on. Stepping out of your heels, you slip off your jacket at the same time, throwing it onto the chair by the door. “Red or white?” You ask Doyoung, who’s slowly taking his own jacket off and setting it down on top of yours.

You open the cupboard to where you store all your wines, scanning through your options. Doyoung sidles up to you, looking up at the cupboard himself. Then, you make the mistake of turning your head.

He reaches his hand onto the handle of the cabinet, boxing you in between him and the wall. His gaze is fixed on the bottles, as if he’s really studying through each of them right now. The top buttons of his dress shirt are undone, the collar slightly crooked. A hum sounds from him, reverberating in the close distance between your bodies. His neck catches a sheen from the city lights filtering through your balcony doors behind you. And it’s only then you realise you’d just about made the biggest mistake of your life.

He angles his head downwards to look at you, an oh-so-innocent expression scrawled all over his face. “What do you think?” He asks with a feigned cluelessness in the lift of his brows.

You catch a subtle hint of his cologne—which was probably more effective than any other bottle that you had up in that cupboard in making you drunk. “What do I think?” you breathe out. Doyoung tilts his head towards the cabinet, but the look in his eyes told you he had no intention of opening up any of the bottles.

Doyoung drops his hand from the handle onto the edge of the countertop as he takes a step closer towards you. One step. And he’s cornered you between himself and the glass doors to the balcony.

“That’s what I asked, wasn’t it?” His voice is low and sultry as his eyes study each and every detail of your face.

For the last time tonight, you try to still the pounding in your chest, but it was clear that your attempts proved futile. “I think…” you start slowly, lightly tracing the tips of your fingers from up his hips to his collarbone. “Fuck the wine.”

Your fingers grab onto the silky fabric of his collar, pulling him close. His lips crash onto yours in an instant. Once you’ve given him the green light, there’s nothing holding him back.

Doyoung’s hands roams every inch of your body as he kisses you as if you are the very air he needs to breathe. One of his hands grip tightly onto the flesh of your thigh, fingertips digging into the sides of it.

You wrap your arms around his neck, holding and keeping him close to you. For a moment, it felt like deja vu with the way he’s kissing you. So deeply and fervently. You throw your head back to catch a quick breath, but Doyoung doesn’t let even the tiniest fraction of a second slip away from him.

He attaches his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of his kisses down onto your collarbones. His hand covers the small of your back, arching it into him as he sucks on your skin.

You move your arms down behind your back, hands searching blindly for something. Then, a noise clicks in between your panting and the sound of Doyoung leaving desperate kisses on your skin. Doyoung pulls back slightly with a darkness in his eyes, as if he knows exactly what you just did. A smirk overtakes his lips, quickly taking yours into his again.

“You want everyone to know what we’re doing up here?” He mutters breathily in between quick kisses. God. You can feel his smirk against your lips when he envelopes you, twisting your stomach in ways you never thought possible. “I don’t mind.”

The click was the sound of you unlocking the handles. He takes a step backwards, pulling you along with him as he swings both doors to your balcony open. Immediately, a breeze brushes against your skin that only adds to the butterflies in your stomach.

Doyoung presses you up against the cold, iron railing of the balcony, prompting a quiet ‘shit’ from you. The contrast of his warm palms on your thighs and the icy metal on your back sends chills down your spine.

His hands inch higher and higher up your legs, slipping under the chiffon of your dress. Meanwhile, his lips are never parted from you for more than a few seconds at a time. You open your arms, hands each gripping the top rail of the banister so tightly that your knuckles are beginning to change colours.

Doyoung moves your leg up, wrapping it around his waist. He trails his lips again over the delicate skin of your neck and chest. When the neckline of your dress gets in the way, he simply had no choice but to move onto the next part of you that’s uncovered by fabric.

Doyoung kneels down onto his knees. As he does so, his grip on your leg remained steady as he lapped it over his shoulder. He presses gentle pecks onto your inner thigh as he continues to lift the hem of your dress up, unveiling more of you bit by bit at a time.

Patience was never your strong suit. Doyoung, however, seemed to be the complete opposite. He takes his time peppering kisses all over the skin of your thigh as anticipation builds up within you. For a moment, you forget that you’re out on the balcony, but you’re reeled back into the present as another subtle gust of wind catches itself in your hair.

You bite down on your lip as Doyoung’s mouth inches closer and closer to the hem of your underwear. The anticipation practically pooling in between your legs. He lifts the dress up slightly above your waist, holding it in place as he grabs onto your hips with his big palms.

He leans in closer, moving excruciatingly slowly. You can feel the warmth of his breath so, so painfully close to you. He traces a finger along the lace trim, then softly presses his lips onto it—half of it touching fabric, the other half touching your bare skin. You wrap the leg you have thrown over his shoulder tighter around him at the sensation, or the lack thereof.

Doyoung slides two fingers under the hem. He’s a tease. He runs the tips of his fingers downwards along the edge. Doyoung looks up at you watching him expectantly, smirking at the sight of you, breathing so heavily. He bunches the fabric together, pushing it to the side, and immediately, the chill in the night jolts you.

This is remedied by the presence of Doyoung’s lips on your clit. He first plants a gentle kiss, then, doing what he did on your neck and your chest, he swirls his tongue over it. His humming adding to the pressure building steadily within you.

You purse your lips together, desperate to not make a noise, and your leg tries to clamp itself shut.

Doyoung pulls away, licking his lips before tutting his tongue. “You wanted everyone to hear, didn’t you? That’s why you opened these doors?” He presses the tip of his middle finger up onto your folds, drawing ovals as he spreads the wetness all over your cunt. “Don’t get shy now.”

He latches his lips onto your clit again, and without notice, pushes that very finger up into you. The surprise of his movements forces a moan out of you, one that you couldn’t suppress.

Steadily, he slides in another finger, continuing to go deeper and deeper, —threatening more and more noises from you.

You let go of the rail with one of your hands, unable to hold back from the aching neediness you feel between you. Your fingers find themselves entangled in Doyoung’s hair, drawing him closer to you as you begin to move your hips against the friction of his touch.

He mumbles contently against you, “That’s it, princess.” Humming approvingly as you continue to grind yourself down into him. The entire length of his fingers disappear inside you and gradually, he pulls them out before picking up his pace.

Still, you’re straining your whines and whimpers, as if you’re embarrassed for him to hear them. You throw your head back as he begins to slide his fingers in and out of you at an increasing pace, a strangled moan catching in your breath.

He mumbles again, “Don’t hold back for me.”

The next morning, you wake up in your bed. Pillows scattered over the floor, sheets sprawled out on top of you. You turn, facing the other side of the bed only to find it empty. A haze covers your memory of the night before, as if the events have been frosted over, sealing last night to the you in those moments only.

A sudden pounding plagues your head and you begin to feel the ache all over your body. You shut your eyelids tightly, trying to will away the pain searing through your muscles, but it doesn’t work.

Sliding on your slippers, you shuffle your way out of your bedroom only to find your entire apartment empty. There’s a sinking feeling in your chest for a brief moment before your eye catches something on your kitchen countertop. A note.

You sidle over, and immediately you can recognise the paper that the note’s written on. The neat handwriting on it read, “I’m off to practice. I made some breakfast for you with what you had, hope that’s alright,” with a small smiley face on the bottom corner.

You glance back at where the note was, and sure enough, there’s a plate of pancakes sitting on your countertop.

Taking a deep breath, you put the note back down. The sudden need to decipher and ascertain what last night means overtakes you, and you know just what you need to do.

You head back into your bedroom, throwing sheets and pillows all over the place to look for your phone. After scouring around for 5 solid minutes, you find it tucked into your bed frame.

Somewhat half-awake, you scroll through your contacts to find Karina’s name. The tone dials three times before she picks up.

There was no way that you wouldn’t tell her what happened between you and Doyoung—you could only keep things from her for so long. After Doyoung had left you that day in the canteen, it took you a little over 24 hours to spill everything to Karina. She was neither surprised or impressed.

“How’d it go?” She answers the phone, no greetings or anything.

You take in a deep breath, certain that Karina can probably hear you. “I don’t know,” you blurt out truthfully.

“Good-you-don’t-know, or bad-you-don’t-know?”

“Good? I guess? Karina…” You sigh, for probably the dozenth time since you’ve woken up this morning.

Karina waits a few seconds before she speaks again, “Tell me everything.”

You recap how the night went, leaving some details out when it got to the later part of things. Though you can’t see her, you can visualise her reactions just from her squealing over the phone.

“This method acting thing is really working, huh?” She chuckles to herself.

“No!” You rub your palm over your forehead. “I don’t know. I don’t know if he likes me or if I like him. It’s… weird.”

“Be so serious right now,” Karina says bluntly, “You’re kidding me.”

“What if it’s just physical?”

“Is it just physical for you?

“No,” you’re quick to answer that, “I don’t think so.” Karina stays silent for a moment or two, and you can picture her eyebrows shooting up in that familiar way when she’s trying to prove you wrong.

“Listen,” Karina sighs, “Friends who fuck for fun don’t cook each other breakfast. And go out on dates. I’m sure it’s a thrill to have anyone’s hands on you,” The sarcasm heavily blanketed her last sentence.

“It wasn’t a date,” you weakly try to object while thinking over her words.

“Yeah, just two people hanging out casually ending in a hook-up. Not a date. Just saying, that’s never happened to us before.”

Karina spends some more time trying to open your eyes to the truth that you were so repellent to, to no avail.

By the end of the phone call, you let yourself fall onto your bed, mind more muddled up than before. Not exactly what you hoped for in this situation.

It’s been exactly 4 days since that fateful night. The date, as Karina kept referring to it as. You haven’t had the opportunity to see Doyoung this week, yet, which, thanks to partner practice, will change today. As soon as you step through the door to the studio, to be specific.

The moment you do, you hear a voice squealing out your name. Jerking your head upwards, you catch the eyes of Colette who’s making a beeline towards you.

“So, how was it?” She asks excitedly, catching you off guard for multiple reasons. 1, she’s never that cheery in the mornings. 2, you have no idea what ‘it’ is.

“How was…?” You trail off, letting her fill in the blanks of her query.

“The date!” Colette exclaims. And in the corner of your eye, you can see a head snap sharply in the direction of the two of you in the front of the room. You look over, and Doyoung’s standing there, in the middle of rolling up his long sleeves. Your gaze locks with his for a second or two, and a sudden embarrassment burns within your eyes that you’re not sure if you need to hide from him. You look back at Colette, her anticipation evident in her features.

“It was delightful,” Doyoung answers from across the room, rolling up the other sleeve. “Is that enough gossip for you today?” He says pointedly.

Colette widens her eyes at you. She leans in to your right side, putting her hand on your elbow as she mutters quietly into your ear, “I asked him earlier before you got here and he wouldn’t say anything.” She pulls away from you, “Did you have a nice time?”

You give her a polite nod with a small smile and she seems satisfied enough with that answer, mirroring your grin. Colette drops her hand from your elbow, letting you settle your stuff down.

Doyoung makes his way up to the centre, where Colette stands facing him. You shoot a quick glance back at them, a slight nervousness bubbling up inside you as they mumble among themselves, too quiet for you to make out anything they’re saying. As you’re pulling your pointe shoes out of your bag, Colette suddenly remarks again, “And to think you wanted to drop the role because you didn’t think you’d have chemistry with him, Y/N.”

You look back again at the two of them. Doyoung is facing away from you, stretching his ankles on the floor. You flash a tight-lipped smile at Colette before standing up and joining them.

Practice ended earlier than usual today—you’re not complaining about it though. Despite you never going home until later into the night, you’re still thankful that at least you have a slightly longer break today before you start your individual sessions again.

You dig through your bag for your purse, wanting to maybe get a snack or two at the canteen. You’re fishing around, and instead of your purse, you find your box of cigarettes. Your arms freeze momentarily. Flipping over the tab, you see that there’s only one left, having not touched them since the last time Doyoung caught you smoking and being his usual irritating self, chided you for it.

A small curve forcibly tugs on the corners of your mouth. You fold the tab back over, burying the box into a pocket inside the bag.

That evening, Doyoung freely waltzes into your practice room whilst you’re in the middle of practicing your turns. You haven’t been able to execute them as well as you had that one time, and you’re determined to perfect it.

Leisurely, as if he owned the place, Doyoung coasts through the door. He leans against the barre in front of the mirror as he takes a sip of his water from his bottle, eyes fixed on you in midst of a set of pirouettes.

“I thought you got those down last time,” Doyoung speaks right as you land, appearing to be perfectly balanced despite the blur over your vision. He continues, “You can’t work yourself to the bone.”

“Once is a fluke,” you take a deep breath in.

“You’re plenty skilled.” He treads lightly towards you.

You look up at him coming closer, leaning your torso over to even your breathing again. “What? You’re done with practice so you’re here to distract me?”

Doyoung joins you in the middle of the room, taking a swig of his water. “I mean, nothing better to do.”

You plant your hands on the sides of your hips, eyes still locked on his. A beat passes by.

You drop your eyes from him, “Thanks for breakfast the other day, by the way.” You lift your foot from the ground slightly, pretending to be stretching it just so you don’t have to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” his tone is indecipherable.

The silence between the two of you quickly becomes awkward for you, desperate for some way to escape it.

“About the other night…” Doyoung’s voice softly begins as he sets the bottle in his hand on the floor.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you reply trying to sound as nonchalant as you can, leaning your back into the wall of the pillar in the middle of the room. Truth be told, you were the furthest thing from nonchalant, but you couldn’t afford for him to know that.

Doyoung closes the gap between the two of you. He looks down at you, a hint of desperation in his eyes. “Okay, we don’t have to talk about it,” he repeats. He turns around so that his back is up against the pillar as well. “But we should do something about it.”

You glance over at him looking into the reflections of the two of you. In that moment, you’re not entirely sure what he’s hinting at. Then, you catch a glimpse of his hand, and suddenly your breath hitches. Without him even needing to say another word, your chest begins to burn, thanks to your sudden recollection that kicks in right at this moment. “Something like…?”

Doyoung pulls his eyes away from the mirror and onto you, watching as you take step and step closer, until you’re positioned in front of him between his legs. His gaze grows more intense as he continues to watch you, his smirk too. “That’s not quite what I meant, but I’m not complaining.” He finds himself putting his hand onto your hips without even thinking about it, as if it comes naturally to him. To be fair, he has already done so multiple times earlier in the day during your session, and it took all the will in you to focus on the choreography instead of his hands on you.

Your palms travel up against his chest, fingers clasping together at the back of his neck. You tilt your head slightly, “Really? This wasn’t what you had in mind?”

He purses his lips together briefly, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob slightly as he gulped. “You're right. Let’s not talk.”

In a split second, your lips were pressed against each others. By now, the feeling of his lips on yours felt familiar enough that you’re sure your features have been moulded to fit his own. The softness of his lips contrasted by the pure desire driving his eagerness is a deadly combination.

Your fingers inch their way into his hair, and his pulling on your waist. His palms slide downwards, and effortlessly, Doyoung hoists you up into his arms with your legs wrapping tight around him.

The sudden movement catches you by surprise, making your lips part as you gasped gently. Doyoung settles his hands in the nook of your knees, and with you around him, he walks the two of you to the wall nearby, setting you down on top of the wooden barre.

His fingers push the strands of your hair back as he slides them up along your jawline. Your entire body pressed firmly against the wall, Doyoung buries himself in the crook of your neck. His hand caresses your cheek as he laid down kiss after kiss on your skin.

The whole time, you’re letting stifled hums and whines out, and every time you did, you can feel Doyoung smirking against you. You can’t help but to pull his hips closer to you with every second that goes by, desperate to have something. Your fingertips work their way around to the front of his waistband, hooking a thumb inside. If he didn’t sense your agitation before, he certainly did now.

Doyoung pulls himself away from your neck. The visual of the low lighting combined with his disheveled hair, courtesy to you, was enough to drive you insane.

“You’re not very patient, are you?” He mutters as he runs a hand up and down your thigh tauntingly.

Can he blame you? Your mind has been driven to a place where you can’t even think straight anymore, only wanting to have your way in that instant. You bite down on your bottom lip, and slowly, with your eyes locked, you pull back the waistband of Doyoung’s sweatpants.

His eyes are filled with a deep carnal desire. Placed under his astute observation, you unhook your thumb from his sweats and instead, begin to peel off your leotard one strap at a time. He follows the movement of your hand as it slides the thin straps off of your shoulders, revealing your chest to him.

He hangs his head back, eyes closed, almost like he’s trying to not look at you. A quiet ‘fuck’ slips out from under his breath. You continue to strip off the rest of your leotard along with the thin, chiffon skirt that you had wrapped tightly around your waist.

Doyoung brings himself to look at you again, now with your entire torso bare. “Fuck, okay.” He sucks in the hollows of his cheeks as he brusquely pulls on the bunched up fabric and slides them off of you entirely.

You shoot him a quick look and he immediately pulls his shirt off with one of his hands. He takes your lips into his fervently as the tip of his thumb grazes against the underside of your breast repeatedly.

Your hand travel down to the front of his trousers and not as discreetly as you’d thought. Doyoung groans lightly as you palm his bulge, even biting down on your lip when you apply more pressure.

“Okay, okay,” he whispers breathily, grabbing your wrist to direct it away before pushing down his sweats.

You try to keep your eyes on him but even in the bottom of your eyeline, you can see it spring up, hard and red. Doyoung wraps his long fingers around his cock, giving it a quick couple of strokes as he grunts lowly.

The aching desire within you increases tenfold. And you couldn’t resist looking down, watching his hand travelling all the way up and down his length. A spark of frustration ignites within you, wanting desperately for him to just be inside of you right this second.

Doyoung watches you watching him. He tries to stifle a chuckle, which catches your attention. “If you’re just going to jerk off, don’t waste my time here.” The movement of his arm slows down slightly, but his smirk grows wider.

“I would never want to waste your time,” he mutters tantalisingly.

Doyoung holds a firm grip around the base of his length. He looks down, having to stop himself drooling from the sight in front of him. He taps the head of his cock on your cunt, catching you by surprise and making you clench your thighs around him harder, which does nothing but elicit a chuckle from him.

Doyoung tightens the grip he has around himself, trying to still his shaking hand. And not being able to hold himself back any longer, he gently pushes himself into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. Your nails find themselves dug into the skin of his back as he drives further and further in.

Your lips are parted, but you’re holding your breath. Doyoung’s gaze falls upon your face, watching every slight movement in your features as he pushes the last of himself into you. And though he hasn’t even done anything, yet, just the sheer size of him inside exhausts you. You rest your forehead against his bare shoulder, needing him to hold you steady with his arms.

He plants a gentle kiss on the back of your head, “You’re so fucking pretty like this.”

And when you think your body couldn’t feel any weaker, your thighs tense up at the sound of his words.

Doyoung lays his fingers on the nape of your neck, gently lifting your head and forcing you to look at him just inches away from your face. “You okay?” he mouths, earning an eager nod from you. You’re met with a small, pleasant smile from him at your response.

He slowly drags himself against the tightness of your walls, groans catching in his throat.

Doyoung begins to thrust his hips forwards and back, filling you up with his cock again and again. You let yourself wholly collapse into his chest standing up tall against you. The friction very quickly proves to be not enough for you, causing you to move your hips in unison with his.

A string of curses and moans falls from Doyoung’s lips as he picks up the pace. His hands also tighten around you, to steady himself or to steady you, it’s hard to say. He, once again, buries himself into your neck, panting into your skin and leaving subtle bite marks on it.

You snake a hand around to your clit, rubbing in synchrony to the rhythm of his hips. The stimulation overwhelms you, your mind solely focused on the desire to cum. Your head is propped up on Doyoung’s shoulder, and every time you moan into his ears, his heart skips a beat and he thrusts harder into you.

He mumbles your name over and over again, followed by a series of ‘fuck’s and ‘shit’s. His breathing, as well as yours, become rugged and uneven.

You can feel the pressure steadily building up within you, the circling of your fingertips becoming more violent by the second.

The bubbling of anticipation inside of you brings you closer and closer to the edge. Your body threatens to tremble, even when propped up by the strength of Doyoung's arms.

“I’m so close,” you manage to whimper next to Doyoung’s ear. And unbeknownst to you, that completely unravels him. Desperation taking over, he plunges himself deeper and harder into you.

The sudden change in tempo almost urges you to sink your teeth down into his shoulder. Your fingers are beginning to cramp but you’re so close to your orgasm, it’s basically within reach.

You lean your forehead onto Doyoung’s shoulder as weariness begins to take over your muscles. You just needed a little bit more to push you over the edge, and the sight of him ramming his cock inside of you made you fall apart.

Your walls clench so tightly around Doyoung that it’s physically hard for him to continue thrusting into you. Even if you tried to quiet yourself down, the overwhelming pleasure takes over any logical mind and you’re practically screaming out his name. Preoccupied with your own pleasure, you hardly noticed the stiffening of Doyoung’s arms around you, until you felt the warm ropes of his cum threatening to spill out.

For a moment, the whole world seemed to go quiet. Time stopped for a minute or two as your body slowly comes down from such a high. Your chests rise and fall in unison, both desperately panting to collect your breaths again.

You lean your head back against the wall, your half-lidded eyes meeting Doyoung’s. Your lips hang slightly ajar as the thumping of your chest increasingly gets louder and louder in your ears. You rest your forearms on his shoulders, weakly interlocking your fingers together.

You pant. “Do you fuck all your costars like that?” Lazily teasing him with half of a smirk.

Doyoung leans in, still inside of you, unthinkingly pecking the side of your lips.

He whispers into your ear, “Just the one I like.”

END OF ACT III

#📂 - nct #nct fanfic #nct #nct 127 #doyoung imagines #doyoung nct #nct doyoung #kim doyoung #doyoung #nct smut #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 smut #doyoung smut #nct scenarios #doyoung scenarios #nct 127 imagines

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sweetcarolina-24 · 8 months

Text

So Close*

Kinktober Day 3: Edging

Azriel x Reader

kinktober masterlist

A/N so this is an excerpt from my Stargirl fanfic with the pov changed to second person.

CW: sexual themes, edging, sort of a bella in breaking dawn pt 1 thingy going on at the beginning, mentioned alcoholism

so the premise in the fic is that she has a drinking problem and Az has decided that she won't be getting pleasure until she's been sober for a week. listen, ya gotta do what you gotta do

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

You smiled at yourself in the mirror, your dress stopped just below your hips. It was low-cut and you wore a push-up bra. He couldn't deny you pleasure without denying himself.

You finished your look by applying red lipstick. You smacked your lips in the mirror and admired how beautiful you looked.

You walked into the dining room where the rest of the family was gathered for breakfast. You ignored all their eyes on you.

"You're a little overdressed for breakfast, don't you think?" Rhys asked you. You shrugged and served yourself some pancakes.

"You can never be overdressed," Mor corrected him with a full mouth. You nodded in agreement as you took a bite of your breakfast. You hummed at the taste.

"They taste just like Mom's," you commented.

"I found her recipe a while ago," Cassian informed you.

You smiled and took another bite. You could feel your mate's eyes on you, but you hadn't even glanced at him yet.

You could feel his arousal and amusement from the other end of the bond. You finally met his eyes and winked at him.

He tilted his head, studying you. You looked down at your lap, suddenly a little intimidated by his unwavering focus on you.

"Whatever is going on between you two, do not involve me," Amren warned you. You grinned at her.

"Don't involve any of us," Rhys agreed.

You sighed and leaned back in your seat after finishing your meal. You got out of your chair and pushed it in

"Thanks for breakfast, Cassie," you told the male, leaning down to kiss his head.

"No problem, y/n," he replied.

You turned on your heel and stepped out into the hallway. You could feel the tug on the other end of the bond. Your plan was working.

You made your way to a secluded area of the corridor and waited for him to catch up. You leaned against the wall.

"What do you think you're doing?"

You grinned at the voice and turned to face him. You could scent his arousal from across the hall. You shrugged, feigning innocence.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," you lied, glancing away.

He growled and lunged at you. You squealed as he grabbed you and pinned you against the wall, his hands holding yours above your head, his body holding yours in place.

"I'm surprised you're up so early," he said into your ear. "You were out so late last night. Aren't you hungover?"

"No," you denied, a shiver running down your spine.

"Why are you so overdressed?" he breathed.

"I just wanted to look nice," you lied.

He chuckled darkly and used one hand to pin yours. His other hand dropped and slid up your thigh. You gasped and closed your eyes, the hint of a smile on your face.

His finger slid down the center of your core over your underthings. You bit your lip to keep from moaning. He smiled.

"Please," you begged desperately.

"Look who's begging now," he teased. "And it only took one day of denial."

"Stop it," you whined, your head feeling fuzzy. "Please?"

He tore off your underthings before starting to unbuckle his belt. You smiled and wrapped your arms around him as he lifted you up.

You wrapped your legs around him and he pinned your back against the wall. He lined up with your center and slid inside.

You groaned and rested your forehead on his shoulder. He began to thrust into you, his speed increasing as you cried out in pleasure, biting his shoulder to stifle it as you dug your fingers into his back.

His hand wrapped around your neck, forcing your head up and squeezing only slightly. He grunted with his thrusts as he railed you against the wall.

"Holy shit," you managed, your eyes rolling back into your head.

You could already feel a coil tightening in your lower stomach. Your wings wrapped around both of you.

"Gods, y/n," he grunted animalistically, delivering a punishingly hard thrust into you.

"Don't stop," you begged, feeling yourself get to the edge.

You wanted his shadows to play with your neglected bundle of nerves. He knew you wanted that, but he wasn't giving you what you wanted. You snaked your hand down and began to rub the nerves.

"Don't," he warned you. A shadow gripped your wrist, pinning it to the wall.

"Please," you repeated, your frustration tearing at your bond. "I'm so close."

"Me too," he groaned, resting his head and biting your shoulder. You gasped at the pleasurable pain.

He moaned your name as he spilled into you, still fucking you throughout. You were about to tip over the edge. You could feel your high about to wash over you.

His movement stopped, leaving him still inside you. He set you down on the floor as he caught his breath.

"What the fuck?" you snapped.

"I told you you wouldn't get your pleasure until you'd been sober for a week," he reminded you.

"But you . . ." you stuttered. "You can't … That wasn't fair."

"And you putting on that skimpy dress for breakfast was?"

"So you can cum and I can't?" you demanded.

"Not until you stop drinking."

"Azzy," you whined.

"I have work to do, baby," he said, leaning down and kissing your cheek. "I love you."

He walked away, leaving you flustered and unsatisfied. You pulled your underwear back up and groaned, stomping your foot.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

#acotar #azriel x reader #mean dom! azriel #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x female!reader #azriel x you #acotar smut #smut

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ebongawk · 2 months

Note

WAIT OK I HAVE ANOTHER ONE it’s prob cheating to send two so you can save this for another time but!!!! just chrissy fidgeting w eddie’s jewelry. his rings, his necklace. like she’s anxious abt smth and over time learned instead of like biting her nails or pulling hangnails or smth he’ll let her do that

Chrissy always had an issue with biting her nails.

As a child, whenever she was anxious about school, or nervous about dance competitions or cheer routines, her nails found their way between her teeth, chewed ragged and brittle.

Her mother called her disgusting. A ruler or wooden spoon was often produced, seemingly from thin air, to smack Chrissy across the back of her hands whenever they found their way into her mouth.

The main reason she started painting her nails was because the chemical taste of the polish made her nauseous. As her issues with food worsened, nausea became increasingly harder to control, and she found herself in the bathroom more often than not.

Her nerves, however, found new ways to ruin her.

Using those pretty nails she now sported, Chrissy dug into her cuticles. Picking at dry skin or tiny abrasions, creating hangnails she could then tear away.

Jason called her disgusting. Lightly smacking her hands with his own or with his school notebooks. Telling her constantly that every part of her was so pretty, but she was ruining her hands. Ruining the illusion of beauty he cast upon her by reminding him that she was human.

She couldn't break up with her mom. But she did break up with Jason.

Free of his oppressing weight, the urge to pick at her nailbeds lessened. It didn't disappear completely, of course, but she found healthy skin growing over her tiny scars.

Then she started hanging out with Eddie. And, for a little while, she didn't even notice how her fingertips stopped bleeding.

One day, sitting at the lunch table Eddie and his friends occupied, Chrissy's mind had been sloughing through the finals they had coming up. She was decently confident about most of them, but O'Donnell could be killer when it came to testing. Often asking things not covered by the study guide, so she and Eddie had spent the past four afternoons in his bedroom, textbooks open and flashcards made, trying to get one another ready for their teacher's unhinged brutality.

Her anxiety, during this thought spiral, had heightened exponentially. She stopped moving all at once when she remembered that Sandra had taken a bad scrape during practice yesterday – cheer season was over, but Chrissy was determined to keep the younger girls occupied through the year so they wouldn't be so rusty when they came back in August – and she'd used her last band-aid for the scrapes.

Sighing, Chrissy looked down to inspect the damage.

And saw Eddie's hand in her lap.

She glanced over. Eddie was still fully engaged in whatever conversation he was having with Jeff – his unoccupied hand twisting and twirling through the air to accentuate his points. But his left hand was loose between hers, one of his rings twisted to face his palm.

Chrissy twisted the ring back to right. Then did another circuit, finding it strange how natural it was to fiddle with his rings.

Looking up at Eddie again, he met her eye with a curious smile. Tilting his head to one side in silent question that she just shrugged at, instead scooting the tiniest bit closer and dropping herself seamlessly back into the conversation.

She didn't think of it again for a few weeks. Until she and Eddie were tucked up at his home, watching some British scary movie called Underworld and sharing a bowl of popcorn. They'd started the evening next to one another, but as the movie progressed, Chrissy found herself almost entirely in Eddie's lap. Curling into his side with every scary part, until her knees were tucked up to her chest and her feet were pressed between his thighs.

Every jump scare made her wince, shoving her face into Eddie's shoulder and peeking through one eye until the scary parts were over.

The movie was almost completely finished before she registered Eddie's hand in her lap. Her fingers twisting the rings around his over and over, slipping them up and down his knuckles.

Her nailbeds had never looked so healthy.

Remaining quiet until the previews ran, Chrissy slipped from Eddie's lap, standing and stretching as Eddie moved to flip on the light.

"What'dya think?" he asked, picking up the popcorn bowl and a few stray kernels before walking it into the kitchen. "Weird, yeah? Did I fill your weekly scary movie prescription, Miss Cunningham?"

She'd told him, ages ago, that she wanted to start liking scary movies, because he loved them so much. They now had a weekly movie date, watching something from his repertoire of slasher films before loading one of her favorite romance tapes into the VCR.

(Tonight, it was Breakfast at Tiffany's.)

"Yes, Dr. Munson, it was exactly what I needed," she said around a grin, walking into the kitchen with him. He had his back to her, squatting in front of the fridge for another movie snack, and Chrissy wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Hoisting herself onto his back and pressing her cheek against his neck.

Beneath her, Eddie let out a little chuckle. Something Chrissy turned her head to taste with her lips against his spine.

"That freaked out, sweetness?" he asked, grabbing a jar of the strawberry jam he kept just for her and a couple cans of Coke before standing. Keeping herself firmly affixed to his body with her legs around his waist.

"No," Chrissy answered. "Just wanted to be close to you, that's all."

Eddie huffed, setting his wares down and yanking her further up his back. Situating her to be a little more comfortable before he grabbed peanut butter and the half-eaten loaf of bread from the pantry.

"Yeah?" He paused in his actions, setting the clean butter knife he'd just grabbed next to the jam. "We can, uh. We can get a hell of a lot closer, y'know. If that's your real aim here."

Gosh, he could be such a boy sometimes. Chrissy snorted, burying her face in his neck.

"But what about Breakfast at Tiffany's?"

"Audrey Hepburn will be waiting for us when we're finished, sweet girl." The hand around her knee slid up, gently stroking the outside of her thigh. "Or we can put her on in the background. Make her bear witness to our incredible physical connection."

"Eddie."

"Chrissy."

Rolling her eyes, Chrissy tapped her healthy, wound-free fingertips against his collar.

"Bedroom," she finally said, laughing loudly when Eddie whooped and threw a fist in the air before sprinting down the hallway.

After, as they lay together in a sweaty pile of contentment, Chrissy snuggled into Eddie's chest. Eyes closed, relishing in the smooth, easy way his hand drifted up and down her side, from her hip to her ribs and down again.

"Eddie?"

"Hmm?" He took a final puff of his cigarette before ashing it.

"When did you notice that I pick at my nails?"

He hummed, rolling that thought around in his mind.

"I dunno," he admitted after a moment. "Early, I guess? Beginning."

Tapping her fingers against his stomach, she took his hand where it had continuously been drifting against her skin, bringing it up and pressing her lips against the rings.

"How come I didn't realize you distracted me?"

"I can't answer that, sweetness," he responded around a shrug. "I just figured you needed something to fiddle with. Better my hands than yours, in my opinion."

Chrissy paused, letting that sink in, before she opened her eyes and looked at him.

"What, so you were gonna let me pick at your nails?"

Eddie just shrugged again, a new grin stretching his cheeks. Dimples coming to life under her disbelieving grimace.

"If that's what it took."

"Eddie, that's so gross."

"Guess it's good you picked at my rings and not my nails then, huh?"

"Why would you let anyone––"

"Not anyone," he interrupted, taking her hand in his and letting her fingertips fall across his lips. "Just you."

Oh, the way he could so simply send a swarm of butterflies to flight in her stomach.

"I don't want you to hurt yourself," he said after a moment, honesty dripping like honey from his words. Sprinkling droplets of sticky sincerity across her skin, so she'd feel the mess of his truths for days and years to come. Waggling his eyebrows, he finished by saying, "But I don't mind if you hurt me a little sometimes."

"Eddie."

"Slap me, baby, I know you want to."

"Oh, my God."

#hellcheer #eddissy #eddie x chrissy #stranger things #chrissy x eddie #eddie munson #hellcheer drabble #my writing #chrissy cunningham #cw light food issues #cunninghamchrissie #anxiety reactions #nail biting

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shady-tavern · 9 months

Text

A Dash of Villainy within a Hero, Part Two

Part One can be found here. Warnings ahead for murder and mentioned/implied though not graphic torture, mind manipulation and human experiments. Please take care of yourselves.

***

'I know a place' Madness had said after Song had landed, dropping him first and keeping her wings slightly flared after touching down with you, keeping a wary eye on him. You knew the only reason she didn't protest his presence was her trust in you. She trusted that you had a reason for this.

So you had followed Madness with careful caution, for there was no way either of you would lead him to your little hideout for the conversation you all wanted to have.

And, well, considering the glimpses of what you had gotten this night, it looked like you would need allies. You had no idea if villain allies were the way to go, but in this instance it might be something to consider.

Madness led you through a complicated route after sending a text and receiving one in return. The old house he ended up stopping in front was most likely a safehouse that he was going to burn after bringing Song and you here.

To your surprise, there was already someone waiting inside. A kid, sixteen at most and once they opened their mouth and said, "Hey!" you immediately recognized Doctor.

You felt Song tense at your back, heard the ruffle of her wings. Song had always had a massive soft spot for kids and even you had to admit that it unsettled you whenever underage villains or heroes showed up. The latter at least were put into training and were sent out with mentors until they were eighteen, but villain kids seemed to have fewer protections.

You glanced at Madness and noticed the way he watched you and Song from the corner of his eye, the angle of his body. He was ready to protect the kid, no matter what and somehow that made you feel a little bit better.

You were suddenly glad that Doctor was largely known for breaking in and stealing or destroying things and less for going up against heroes the way Madness did. The thought of having attacked a kid made you feel vaguely ill.

"So, I heard you know about Phoenix Project now," Doctor said, casting a quick glance at Madness, their shoulders relaxing a tad at whatever they saw on his face.

"Someone tried to kidnap me last night," Song answered. "Do you know anything about that?"

Doctor glanced at Madness again, a silent conversation taking place that ended with Madness sighing and Doctor looking smugly happy.

"Possibly," Doctor said and reached over the counter of the kitchen island and produced a laptop. They opened it, tapping away with quick fingers and then held it out.

Song and you stepped forward, you taking the laptop while Song leaned a bit onto your back, one wing coming up to curl against you as she looked over your shoulder.

"We don't know a whole lot yet," Doctor said, voice quieter than before and you still tracked Madness from the corner of your eye as he came to stand beside the kid.

His eyes were a slightly darker violet when you glanced up. He was trusting you around Doctor about as much as you trusted him around Song, it seemed.

Then you focused on what was on the laptop and the more you read, the grimmer you grew. Doctor and Madness had created a chart, heroes retiring without ever being seen again, or dying with no proper proof of their death. They had even dug up a few caskets, only to find them empty.

And then they had stumbled across the term Phoenix Project and had traced it back to The Defenders. Where you had most likely run into Madness after he had broken in.

And now you had the name of someone involved in whatever the project was, one of your higher ups.

"Why do you care?" Song asked, looking up while you studied the chart again. There were more heroes they considered 'missing' rather than dead than you had thought.

Doctor was silent for a long moment, then sighed heavily. "My older brother," they said quietly. "He was a hero and one day a year ago we got a call, that he died in the field. It was a closed casket funeral because of how mangled and burnt he supposedly was."

You glanced up and the kid looked angry and grieving and mulish. "I believed it at first," they continued. "But I kept thinking that something was off. When I asked his teammate, Quake, he was super evasive. And, uh, maybe one night I got super drunk and decided to dig him up. To see for myself that he was really gone. But his casket was empty."

Quake. It seemed he was another person you should chat with. You pulled out your phone after handing the laptop to a very quiet Song, showing Doctor and Madness the photos you had taken, catching them up on what you and Song knew.

Song glanced at you. "Guess who knows where Quake lives," she said and you found yourself grinning. It was not a nice grin.

"How about we extend our truce?" Madness offered and when you looked up, he had a smile on his face that looked the way your grin must have. "I bet my powers come in handy for interrogations."

As would yours. Song glanced between you and Madness and you could tell that she was imagining the sort of 'questioning' you two would create. She knew that you would not hesitate to hurt Quake in order to get your answers.

You weren't as much of a good person as Song was. After what he had intended to do, what he had already done to Song, you absolutely were vindictive. A part of you hoped he would resist interrogation.

"If we do this," Song said quietly, "We may never be able to be heroes again."

"And if we do nothing and they catch up with us, I am dead and you will get dragged off to whatever and wherever this Phoenix Project is," you answered and she grimaced but didn't argue.

"Alright," Song said after a moment of silence, her voice grim. "I'll lead the way."

*.*.*

Quake was visibly agitated. He was pacing and continuously calling someone. Dawn was only just starting to break and despite this being a very long night, you were too wired to feel tired.

Whoever Quake wanted to contact, he clearly wasn't getting through.

Crouching side by side with Madness was...quite frankly, it was very weird. There was no way you trusted him, nor did you stop tracking his movements from the corner of your eye. It was best to be cautious, especially with someone who could mess with your mind at the drop of a hat.

"I can send him to sleep," Madness whispered and when you glanced at him, one brow raised, he shrugged. "My powers can do more than drive people to temporary insanity."

"Never would have guessed," you muttered and at his unimpressed look, you gestured for him to go ahead.

Madness moved cat-quiet, lowering himself from the ledge of the building to set down on the balcony across from Quake's home. You felt the hum of his power in the air, as did Quake, but he reacted too late. Most people reacted too late, and even then all one could do was try to run to escape from Madness' range.

Quake's eyes rolled back and he dropped limp to the floor. You felt Song's hand grip the back of your jacket and a moment later you were airborne. She dropped you onto Quake's balcony and landed, shifting her wing to the side to make space for Madness to leap across.

Breaking into the apartment was easy and it looked exactly like the sort of place a hero like Quake could afford. Until you looked closer and you saw that everything around you was expensive and new.

From his fridge to his dishwasher, shiny marble countertops and solid wood furniture, things had been paid for with the sort of money Quake shouldn't have.

Little rat.

You dragged Quake away from the windows to his bedroom, where Madness pulled the curtain closed beforehand and Song took up a sentinel position.

"Alright, ready?" Madness asked as soon as Quake was tied to a chair and you gave him a nod. A moment later, Quake woke with a ragged gasp. He was, unsurprisingly, not pleased.

"Traitor," he hissed at you and you couldn't help but bark out a sharp, incredulous laugh.

"Pot, meet kettle," you said with a grin that was more a baring of teeth. "Tell me, how soon after Nightingale's disappearance would you have found a way to murder me?"

Quake grit his teeth but mulishly kept his mouth shut. "Madness," you said with such artificial sweetness your voice rivaled overly sweet, artificially colorful candy. "Would you like the honors?"

"My, I thought you would never ask," Madness answered with that same sort of over-the-top sugary sweet voice. "With pleasure."

He reached out a hand and you felt dark satisfaction at seeing Quake's eyes grow wide in fear. You shoved some of his balled up socks into his mouth just in time to muffle his howling.

Madness eased up after a moment and Quake was panting, his face having rapidly grown damp with sweat. He spat out his socks, shivering and gasping and his eyes were darting from side to side wildly.

From witness accounts you knew, while people didn't remember whatever Madness had put into their heads, the intense fear lingered. It faded within a half an hour, leaving them confused and vaguely unsettled, but nothing else.

"Now," you said and snapped your fingers together, creating brief sparks. "Wanna talk or do I get to play too?"

Quake swallowed harshly and audibly and you saw the exact moment he caved, the panicked hopelessness that gave way to grim resignation. Pity, you really would have loved to hurt him a bit for what he had done to Song.

"I'll tell you what I know," he grit out and you clapped your hands together, smiling brightly.

"How lovely, but do be truthful or my new friend here is going to have another jaunt in your gray matter."

Madness shifted his stance to something smugly satisfied, looking for all the world like a relaxed big cat after a successful hunt. "Indeed. Now, what do you know about the Phoenix Project?"

Quake swallowed again and seemed to want to resist just a little anyway – hero pride, you didn't blame him for that – before he caved, "I know they want heroes for it. The occasional villain too." He shrugged. "It's not really like the public can check the prison records."

You hadn't even thought about how unexpectedly...vulnerable captured villains could be. Considering the way a muscle in Madness's cheek jumped, neither had he.

"Who is involved?" Madness asked and Quake wet his lips.

"I don't know." He saw you lift your hand and Madness' eyes grew dark and hurriedly added, "I'm serious. I get a burner phone and laptop when I'm supposed to get them a hero or a villain."

"Who introduced you to them?" you asked and Quake looked away.

"I...might have done some illegal things," he said, shoulders hunching a bit. "And whoever 'they' are, they found out. I had a package delivered home, with copies of their evidence and demands to do what they wanted or I could kiss my job and reputation goodbye."

"And people like you dare to call themselves heroes," Madness sneered and you couldn't help but agree. What a selfish coward.

Quake gave up the rest of the information willingly. He told you which devices the information was on, that he had tried to gather as much blackmail as he could in return. He told you the passwords for all of his things and at last, Madness reached out and touched his forehead.

Quake went limp, staring dully into nothing, his breathing slow and even.

"Don't ask what I did," Madness said without looking at you. "And don't say he didn't deserve it."

You could take an educated guess on what he might have done, considering Quake's catatonic, empty eyed state. You shrugged. "I won't complain." Madness looked at you, surprise openly visible on his face.

You held his gaze. "Don't think you're the only vindictive one, Madness. He hurt my friend and tried to kill me and he has done so to other heroes in the past. Leave him trapped in nightmares for eternity for all I care."

As you left to join Song in the living room and start collecting Quake's things, you felt Madness' gaze on your back. Weirdly enough, the hostile air from before was gone.

Instead, he seemed almost...thoughtful.

*.*.*

Madness was infuriating and maddening and brilliant and you had to admit, after weeks of working together to uncover more about Phoenix Project, he was, maybe, possibly, perhaps growing on you. Like stinky fungus.

You could admit that you were grateful to him and Doctor. Thanks to the two villains Song and you had an actually safe place to hide in without going mad in the process. They offered protection as well, more than Song and you would have had on your own.

And tonight, at long last, you had a chance to get your hands at your former superior. Both Song and you had been declared rogues and to be captured upon sight for questioning.

Song, sadly, had a hard time going anywhere incognito, her wings were a dead giveaway, so she was staying in the hideout a lot. It wasn't easy on her, but Doctor had found an old factory, a place with incredibly high ceilings so she could at least fly around and train.

Which meant you were teaming up with Madness in the meantime.

You once again crouched at the ledge of a building and watched the woman you were after leave her car, her butler opening the door to her mansion for her. The very same mansion you were already crouching on, ready to strike.

"Pretentious," you muttered, just as Madness whispered, "Tacky."

You didn't look at him, but you felt a smile tug at the corners of your mouth. It was perhaps softer than the usual sharp, toothy smiles that you aimed his way.

"Let's go," you whispered and got up, Madness following you.

With your powers it was easy enough to disable the lock on the rooftop door and slip inside. Madness took care of all the guards, though he was far gentler with the maid and butler, who he caught after putting them into a dreamless sleep for the next hour or so.

And then you were back to the fun part: questioning assholes.

The woman, a hero who had retired early and had made a ridiculous amount of money by taking a top-notch position in The Defenders, blustered and threatened but caved almost just as quickly as Quake head.

One of these days you'd have to ask Madness what exactly he was putting into people's heads.

This time, at least, you got some zaps in before the former hero, Paralytica, gave up. She had far, far more information than Quake and while it took some more persuading in-between the questions, you at last got names. You got names and you got a place.

"You won't get away with this," Paralytica snarled, sweating and panting and trembling slightly in the chair she was tied to.

You sent all the information on her computer to Doctor, who would make sure nothing could be traced back to them. Her gaze burned into your side. "I will have you hunted down like the mangy dog you are."

Before you could so much as roll your eyes, Madness had gripped her head, making her flinch and go very still, her eyes wide. "And yet, somehow, this 'mangy dog' is worth more than all of you combined." Madness' eyes were a dark violet when they met your surprised gaze. "I might even start believing in heroes again."

You looked away, a near overwhelming mixture of emotions rising within you at his words. You felt touched and all soft and gooey-sweet inside and at the same time, you wanted to bluster and curse at him. Stupid asshole, what was his deal, saying nice things out of nowhere? That wasn't what you did, you sniped and argued and verbally elbow-checked each other. Not whatever...whatever this was.

"We're done here," you said just as the door was kicked down and previously silent heroes rushed in.

Paralytica had just one second of smirking in ugly triumph, before Madness' eyes turned almost black, his grip on her head tightening. She went limp, staring into nothing like Quake had, while the two of you sprung into hurried movement.

Madness wanted to fight, but when you hauled ass for the window, to your surprise, he followed instead of going on the offense. You jumped first, arms raised to protect your face, while he tossed out his powers, sending the all but one of the heroes to their knees with screeching, blood curdling screams.

You landed on soft grass, surrounded by glass shards and looking up just as Madness was forced to topple backwards out the window by a powerful, telekinetic wave. Huh. The Defenders had dug out one of ten people capable of withstanding Madness' powers it seemed.

You didn't even think about it as you took a step forward, arms rising and you grunted as you caught him. He wasn't too heavy thankfully, especially since you were used to lugging Song's weight around in training.

His eyes were wide in surprise and the next moment you tightened your grip and zipped away with him. You were faster than Madness, even with his added weight. You were among the top ten fastest heroes currently employed in The Defenders and it really came in handy right now.

Or well, formerly employed, you were pretty sure after today at the latest your fellow heroes would no longer consider you one of them.

The moment you were far enough from the mansion, you set Madness down, clapping him on the shoulder, "Let's scram."

You felt his gaze on your back again, staring and strangely heated.

*.*.*

You winced when you heard something break, exchanging a look with Song. Doctor wanted to come to the location where the Phoenix Project was supposedly taking place, while Madness was very much not in agreement. They were arguing very loudly and intensely.

"I'm not letting you risk your life!" Madness shouted.

"That is not your decision!" Doctor screamed back. "This is about my brother, you fucking asshole. I know you don't care, but I sure as shit do -"

"I care about you," Madness snapped back, Doctor falling silent. In a forcibly calmer voice, Madness continued, "I want you to have a life, to actually get to enjoy having your brother back. He'll need you. Whatever they've done to him in that hellhole, he's not going to be alright."

"If he's alive at all." You could barely heard Doctor's voice now. "And he'll be so disappointed in me. He always said I could do so much good with my brain."

"And you will," Madness said, voice as unyielding as the ocean tide. "Look at all your inventions, at all the good you will do for the medical field once you are ready. He can't blame you for taking what routes you had available in order to find him. Just let me go in and help me from the outside, like usual. Alright?"

"But what if something happens to you?" Doctor's voice was unexpectedly small. "I don't have anyone else, you know? No one else listened to some scrawny kid, especially not a dead hero's sibling."

"I'm not alone," Madness said and you felt a jolt at surprise at his words. You hadn't expected that he'd believe Song and you would watch his back. And you would protect him, you owed the infuriating man that much at least. "I'll have someone at my side and you for backup."

Doctor huffed a soft sound that was almost a laugh. "I thought heroes were pretentious bullshit people selling a long dead dream?"

"Most of them are. But...maybe there are one or two that are alright," Madness said and his voice had gone a little softer around the edges in a way that did funny things to your insides.

Oh. ...oh fuck no.

When you glanced at Song, feeling slightly panicky, she blinked, then snorted. "Finally figured it out, huh?"

You made a face at her, she made one right back and you gladly hopped upon the distraction. That was how Doctor and Madness found you, with your tongue sticking out at Song, who was wriggling her fingers at you beside her temples.

"Children," Madness said with a mock-heavy voice. "I am surrounded by children."

"And I am surrounded by idiots, but what else is new," Doctor shot back and before you knew it, you were laughing.

It was a mixture of stress release, nervous realization about feelings and giddy anticipation for the upcoming infiltration. Along with the simple fact that Doctor was right, they were incredibly smart.

It had also been a while since you had last laughed like this and Song's smile turned warm, one of her wings extending to curl around your shoulders.

To your surprise, even Madness seemed to soften, a little smile playing in the corners of his mouth that had no right to look this cute. You forcibly shook the thought away. You had no reason to look at a villain and consider him cute. That would only end in disaster. Any of these newly realized, far too soft and squishy feelings would only end in disaster.

Heroes and villains didn't work out, that was a song as old as time.

"So," Song said, removing her wing to shake them both out. "What's the plan?"

The plan wasn't overly complicated. None of you were under any illusions about this. You didn't have the forces to storm the old prison the Phoenix Project was in, but you could infiltrate the place, set as many if not all of the captives free and gather enough information to present a case to fellow villains and heroes respectively.

The Defenders itself wasn't involved in the whole thing, but enough people in high positions along with a good handful of heroes were corrupt to cause problems. You would need a lot of good, hard evidence to convince everyone else of the truth. To make them fight back and clean the rot out of their ranks.

Villains didn't care about the troubles of heroes, but they would not like the thought of getting kidnapped once heroes defeated and imprisoned them either. Most villains were solo fighters and crusaders, but Madness had mentioned that there was a sort of unspoken codex.

That sometimes, if necessary, all the different people and factions worked together to protect their collective future. And considering that goal of the Phoenix Project was to create synthetic powers or transplant powers, this would be of interest to many.

Who knew what other goals the Phoenix Project had, Paralytica hadn't known everything after all. She had just been interested in making more money.

"Song and I will create chaos," Madness said. "While Doctor's robot and you will infiltrate the building."

"I insulated my little helper well enough that he should be able to withstand your powers to a certain degree," Doctor said when you glanced at them. "And I can make it explode if necessary. It packs quite the punch."

Which was how you found yourself squished into a box in the back of a truck. Doctor had been the one to figure out the deliver routes to the old prison and now you were going to infiltrate the place through the backdoor. With a robot squished in beside you, all hard metal edges that were going to leave some weird looking bruises.

You were meant to wait until chaos broke out and sneak your way further in, hopefully encountering less resistance. No one would look at the delivery ramp when Song and Madness were attacking one of the side entrances. The main entrance would have made it too obvious that they were just the diversion.

The moment the box was set down with a grunt and people complaining how heavy it was, alarm sirens rang out shrilly and shouts were heard muffled through doors.

You waited until you couldn't hear rushing footsteps anymore, before you cracked the top of the crate open and slipped outside. Doctor's robot followed you silently and with surprising smoothness. The kid was really going to revolutionize so many fields once they went public with their inventions.

You had a comparatively easy time slipping inside, knocking out distracted guards as you went. Doctor's sleeping darts helped a lot too, if you couldn't sneak up on people to touch them.

You got a brief glance out the window once to see Song and Madness fighting in tandem, people littering the ground around them. Some were clutching their heads, screaming, others just grew slow and sluggish and then fell asleep the moment they heard Song's lullaby.

They were a nasty team, you had to admit. If Song had turned to villainy instead of heroism and those two had ended up working together, the world of heroics might just have been thoroughly fucked.

"This way," Doctor hissed through the speaker on the robot, which looked more like some kind of alien dog than humanoid. They had mentioned it had made balancing easier at the time of its creation.

Doctor and you made it up to the main control room, which doubled as an office for the big boss, with relative ease. You cracked open windows along the way to let Song's song in, your special ear plugs – made back when Song and you first started heroing – the only thing currently keeping you safe.

People inside the building grew ever more sluggish and sleepy, which made it easier to take them out. If they weren't already asleep by the time you snuck past them.

"I'll get the data," Doctor said the moment you knocked out the big boss of the place – a tall, muscular man with a shaved head that had turned a startling, angry red when he had spotted you too late. "You go free the prisoners."

You went to the control panel at the side of the room and started flicking switches. On the monitors cell doors opened with metallic screeching and the first person stepped outside.

You were horrified to recognize her as Supernova, a famous hero celebrity that had been widely mourned after her death. Even on the slightly grainy feed she looked half skeletal and very, very desperately determined.

You bit back a wince when she immediately tossed out her powers, shredding guards that rushed towards her with a miniature black hole. Supernova had never killed before, if anything she had been so very careful to never hurt anyone with her destructive powers. She staggered and sagged, only to be caught by a villain who had rushed out of the neighboring cell.

You recognized that one too. Their name was Sun and they pulled one of Supernova's arms over their shoulders, slamming a foot against the ground and making it erupt with intense enough fire and heat that you heard people scream somewhere outside the camera focus.

More and more heroes and villains left their cells, all working together to break out. To help each other escape. Not a single one was left behind. It seemed you wouldn't have to tear the place down later after all, not much would be left standing in the aftermath of their escape. Good.

"My brother?" Doctor asked, sounding half focused and half desperate.

"I haven't seen him in the cells," you answered and you heard the click-clack of the keyboard grow faster.

"Found him!" Doctor half shouted. "He's currently in one of the examination rooms."

"I'll go get him," you said. "You focus on downloading everything."

"Understood," Doctor's robot looked up briefly, the single camera lens visibly focusing on you. "Please, be careful."

You threw him a quick salute before you slipped out of the room. The old prison was in such brutal chaos, people running and rushing about, the smart ones even running away, that you had it laughably easy.

The examination rooms were half filled with doctors and a handful of heroes and villains when you arrived. The electronic doors were locked and the doctors looked tense but vaguely, grimly victorious at the same time. They considered themselves safe, behind these thick, reinforced doors that could withstand a lot of superpowers.

But this was where your powers really came in handy, because they could not keep you out if you fried their pretty little mechanical doors to death.

Those doors always clicked open when they were overloaded, a safety mechanism to avoid locking people in, in case of emergencies. They had to be able to leave if they wanted to after all. You made quick work of the doctors, most which had no powers at all.

The second you had knocked out the first set of doctors and freed two of the people on the tables, they threw themselves into the fight alongside you. They didn't have much stamina anymore, but they were fierce, bringing with them a brutality born out of a soul-deep desperation to finally make it out. They knew this might very well be their only chance to escape.

You found Doctor's brother last, he was unconscious and looked rather awful. Scarred and thin and visibly exhausted even as he laid there limply. You pulled the needle out of his arm – it was most likely feeding him sedatives – and threw him over your shoulder.

"Everyone out," you shouted just as the last doctor fell after a big, burly woman had grabbed his head and slammed it hard enough against the wall that you knew this man was never going to get up again.

In all honesty, you did not care, there was even a part of you that felt quietly and darkly vindictive. If anyone asked you, those people had gotten their just desserts – if anything, they deserved worse.

As you led the group of limping, swaying people up the stairs, most of them supporting each other to keep going, acrid and thick smells filled the air. Smoke and acid and ozone, along with something that tasted metallic on your tongue.

You made it past people half dissolved in acid, past scorch marks and walls that looked like they had turned liquid and pierced inward, impaling guards, before turning solid again.

Doctor's robot slid up to your side as you rushed towards the delivery hangar and you heard his audible gasp as he saw his brother across your shoulder.

You heard more gasps and even a sob as you broke out the door and into sunlight. There was an audible fight still going on elsewhere, so you entrusted Doctor's brother to his robot and told the group to follow them. They'd be led to safety.

When you joined the main fight, it was a brutal showdown between the fighting forces of the old prison, along with some suit and ties that had shown up and the banded together heroes and villains.

Most of them were no longer capable of battle however, swaying in place and some were already crumpled on the floor. Song had stopped her lullaby and was now swooping in and out of the rows of enemies, knocking people over, while Madness extended his powers further.

When you reached his side, he was out of breath and sweat was rolling down his chin.

"We're ready to leave," you told him and he grinned briefly, an expression of such fierce, relieved victory that you could only grin back. "Don't hit me with your shit."

With those words you threw yourself into the fray, dodging around the guards to square up with the three suit and ties, for they had brought rather strong powers with them. If you could take them out, everyone could get away with little trouble.

They were nasty pieces of work, forcing you to duck below blades thrown by telekinesis – and the bodies of some of the guards – as well as dodge conjured vines that wanted to tie you down.

One vine snapped around your arm, ready to fling you back and you grit your teeth against the pain as you threw yourself forward. You heard a bone crunch before you felt the pain, a dagger slicing past your cheek, another finding the meat of your thigh.

But now you were right in front of them and they clearly had no idea who you were outside of your hero costume, for they did not dodge back. Their eyes grew wide in realization when the one with the vine powers crumbled at a single touch and now they were hurriedly trying to get away.

Which was when Song swooped in from overhead, dropping her full weight on the suit and tie to the left, arching her wings up high to ensure she would not block your path.

Her rapid descending and distraction was all the chance you needed. You slammed the bare palm of your good hand against the woman's nose, who fell like a sack of bricks, daggers clattering to the ground as her limbs twitched slightly.

"Are you alright?" Song asked, wings snapping out to topple two guards that tried to rush in.

"I'll be fine," you said, her gaze already spotting the knife in your leg and your awkwardly held arm. A heavy wave of power in the air caused the rest of the guards to scream, all of them dropping their weapons, half of them running away, the other half clawing at their own skin.

You'd really have to ask Madness about the details on his powers one of these days. Song gripped you around the waist and with a quick hop and flap of her wings, brought you back to Madness and the rescued heroes and villains.

Madness' face grew tense and pinched when he saw you, eyes briefly turning black, before he exhaled roughly and focused on getting everyone up and moving.

At least the escape part was easy enough with the old prison utterly disabled. It was in a remote location, so no one had to worry about outside help arriving. Not that anyone in that cursed place would have called The Defenders for help, they wouldn't want the scrutiny after all.

You got first aid treatment by none other than Madness. His hands were surprisingly gentle, while Song pointed out all the cars around the place, getting the rescued heroes and villains organized.

They were soon ready to head to a pre-prepared place to group up and decide what they wanted to do. They would need proper medical treatment soon though, that was for sure.

You drove back with Madness and Supernova and Sun, the two considered-dead people conked out on the backseat, while Song flew overhead to watch for danger. She wouldn't have fit in the car anyway, not with passengers and her large wings.

"Get some rest," Madness said after a couple of minutes of silence. "If you think you can sleep around a villain."

You snorted and closed your eyes. The pain meds you had gotten were really starting to kick in. "I let you at my injuries, didn't I? And I think our truce can extend until we're all ready to go home."

Madness just hummed quietly. "Could be more than a truce," he muttered, but by then you were already slipping off to sleep, so you weren't sure if you imagined it or not.

*.*.*

The Phoenix Project made headlines everywhere. Doctor had made sure this horror story could not and would not be kept secret by anyone who wanted to keep heroes from looking bad.

The Defenders had a lot of hard work ahead of them, convincing the public that they were still trustworthy, that arrested people would not disappear without a trace again. That the heroes they employed could not be bribed too.

Song and you, meanwhile, were lauded as heroes. As in, a different kind of heroes. The kind that, well, that heroes were meant to be. Saviors, defenders of the weak. People who did the right thing, no matter who else was against them.

It was weird, was what it was. Song and you picked a new apartment with the help of Doctor, who made sure no word of its location got out. The kid had contacted you a couple of days after everything started blowing up, letting you know that they were hanging up the villain mantle.

They wanted to go back to school instead and take care of their brother. Though, they had mentioned that Madness was helping them get allies so that, when they did decide to present their inventions to the public in a year or two, no one would take advantage of them.

Madness had gone quiet and you were absolutely not thinking about that one frigging bit. He was a villain, you were a hero and your truce was over. You'd go back to the regularly scheduled program soon enough.

"Don't look so sour," Song said as she fixed her dress, turning once to show off the way it swirled and sparkled. Her wings were freshly groomed and shone beautifully in the overhead light. "How do I look?"

"Drop dead gorgeous," you answered honestly. "If people don't lay themselves at your feet so you can step on them, I will be sorely disappointed."

She laughed, reaching over to haul you into a tight hug, her wings encircling you. You hugged her back, some tension leeching out of you.

"Let's have a good night, alright?" Song said. "We deserve that much after all that we've been through."

"It's a party in our honor, it's going to be weird," you said and Song snorted.

"It's a party to celebrate the survivors. And maybe us, a little bit." She pulled back to grin down at you. "But what this really means is that we get to eat all the cute little fingerfood and if anyone looks at us weirdly, we just remind them that we were the ones to save the day."

You couldn't help but laugh, giving her arms a pat. "Alright, you win. But if I get tired, I'll just go home."

"Let me know and I'll go with you," Song offered. "We can put in one of the movies that came out while we were in hiding. I'll go make drinks and you make popcorn and we kick back for the rest of the night."

That actually sounded preferable to the party, but you had already agreed to show up. And, as Song said, the fingerfood was amazing. To die for, really.

The party was, indeed, a little bit of a stiff affair. Or rather, it was meant to present a united front to the press, show forgiveness on the side of the survivors and it allowed people to network.

You spoke with a couple of the rescued heroes that had shown up, Supernova frowning heavily and looking ready to bolt. You didn't mention the sun necklace she was wearing and fiddling with like it was a good luck pendant.

"Hey," a familiar, cheerful voice chirped behind you, just as you gathered as much fingerfood as your plate could hold. The server meanwhile looked on in horrified awe.

Surprised you turned around to see Doctor with their older brother. The brother looked miles better since you had last seen him. While he was still a bit gaunt, he had lost much of his thinness and his smile was sweet and charming, if a bit tired.

His scars had faded a bit too, clearly the work of some great medical care. You wouldn't be surprised if Doctor played a part in that.

"My little sibling said I have you to thank for freeing me," he said and held out his hand. You quickly handed your heavily laden plate to the poor server, shaking his hand and then taking the plate back before any of the precariously stacked fingerfood could tumble to a sad little floor-death.

"No thanks necessary, but I am glad to see you're doing better," you answered, while Doctor stood beside you grinning and swaying back and forth a bit on their feet.

"Oh, I doubt you are as glad as I am," the brother answered, only for the smile to slip and crack like fragile glass. "I thought I was going to die in there," he said quietly and Doctor's cheer vanished instantly. "We all did. And then you guys showed up. You have no idea how grateful we are."

This was making you uncomfortable. "Are you still in contact with the others?"

He gave you a surprisingly sharp look, before relaxing a bit. "Yeah, we meet once a month to talk about things. In there...being a hero or a villain stopped meaning anything." He smiled a sad, shy little smile. "Can't count the amount of times a villain held me while I cried."

He cleared his throat, quickly moving on before you could respond. "But that doesn't matter anymore. Now all that matters is healing and making sure my sibling doesn't drop out of school. Again." The last word was said with a bit of reprimand.

You couldn't help but glance at Doctor, wondering if they had told their brother what they had been up to during his presumed death. Considering the stiff, warning smile Doctor gave you, they had said nothing. Fair enough.

"Are you going to eat all that?" Doctor asked instead, nodding at your full plate.

"Double if no one stops me," you said, which made both of them chuckle.

"Don't let us keep you, then," the brother said. "And, again, thank you. You're my hero." Well, now you felt too touched for words.

Mumbling something incoherent but vaguely nice sounding, you shuffled off to one of the open balconies to eat your fingerfood in peace. Your position gave you a good look across the large ballroom, where Song was dazzling a group of people with an adoring shine in their eyes.

She deserved it and considering the brief wink she threw your way, she was making sure to hog all the limelight to give you some peace and quiet. If Song ever wanted the world, you'd damn well fetch it for her.

Your gaze wandered and you nearly choked on a piece of food when you saw Madness of all people brazenly striding towards you.

"How?" you said when he leaned against the balcony railing at your side. "are you here?"

He tapped his temple. "People think I'm Doctor's uncle, they don't see me when they look at me."

...you really had to ask him about his powers in detail one of these days. Well, if he ever properly talked with you instead of going radio silent.

"The brother must know you're no uncle of theirs," you pointed out, instead of asking him why he was talking to you now when he hadn't reached out once since the prison breakout. Since bandaging your leg and putting your arm into a temporary sling.

"He knows who I am," Madness answered. "Doctor said I was the one they reached out to for help. They are hiding what they've been up to, though I think their brother is going to find out soon enough."

Doctor's little jaunt into villainy was hard to ignore, that was true. You hummed in agreement and you half expected Madness to move on. That he had just come here to say hello and keep you from making a scene.

"Why come talk to me?" you asked when he just...remained. Quiet and steady at your side. "I haven't heard from you in a while."

Madness was silent for a long second, then he took a deep breath and straightened. His shoulders rolled back like he was ready to fight, but he didn't feel dangerous. You were still ready to toss your plate of fingerfood at him as a distraction.

"I tried to forget you," Madness said, his words surprising you enough that you paused. "I thought it was for the best. But I couldn't and when I saw you here today...well, I'm a villain. Taking every chance I can to get the things I want is what I do, isn't it?"

You stared at him, befuddled and you allowed him to, ever so gently, take the plate of food from your hands and put it onto the wide railing of the balcony beside you.

"If I overstep let me know and you'll never hear another word from me," he said and his fingertips brushed your hands, leaving warm tingles behind. "But if there is a chance you are interested in me the way I am in you..."

He trailed off, his pale eyes searching yours, hopeful and hesitant in a way you hadn't really seen him before. He was...he was actually showing vulnerability right now. It made you swallow.

"It would never work," you said, because that was the first thing that always came to your mind when you thought about kissing him or holding his hand. About reaching out to him. "We're on two opposite sides of the law. Maybe it's fun at first, but what afterwards? When we have to keep hiding things, have to clash out there in battle?"

Madness didn't brush you off, growing more serious instead, while the hope in his eyes sparked brighter. "You and I are going to retire one day," he said. "Maybe even soon, our lot rarely grows old in this field of work. And I would refrain from attacking you, no matter what."

"It would be hard to make this work," you pointed out, gesturing between you and him, but considering how his eyes sparked with a challenge accepted, that wasn't a problem. "Are you sure? I thought you didn't like heroes."

"I don't," he agreed easily. "But you're different." He tipped his head slightly to the side. "There is a dash of villain in you, isn't there?"

You could admit that he was right and maybe, there was sometimes a bit more than just a dash. You knew that if Song turned to villainy for some reason – it would be a good reason, knowing her – you'd ultimately end up following her.

"My morals are...flexible, sometimes," you admitted. There was a reason why Song was your anchor and compass, your lodestone. Why her light guided your way and you knew, if someone ever took her from you, you would not stop until that person was dead.

Madness smiled and you liked it. A lot. You liked the way he looked at you, as if you were something amazing. As if he never wanted to look away.

He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a beautiful bracelet. "Doctor made this for me, it blocks my powers." And, just like that, he held it out to you.

"Why trust me like this?" you couldn't help but ask and his answering, crooked smile had no right to be this charming and sweet.

"Because you never used a situation against me," he answered, with an earnest shine in his eyes that made you want to look away, your heart going all soft and vulnerable. "Not when the building collapsed and you had the upper hand, nor any time later when you could have just knocked me out with a touch."

"I don't even know your name," you said.

When you didn't move to take the bracelet, he took your hand carefully, turning it palm up to press the cold metal against your skin, curling your fingers closed around it. Once you put this on, he wouldn't be able to use his powers against you, not even in defense should you decide to turn on him.

"Then I'll tell you," he said quietly, his free hand coming up, slowly enough for you to pull back. When you didn't, he cupped the side of your face, this thumb brushing gently over your cheek. "And anything else you want to know."

"We'll need as safeword," you blurted out, because this was already getting too important to mess up needlessly. "When we do encounter ourselves or just in general, to make this work." To not hurt each other by being heroes and villains.

"What do you propose?" he asked and you almost said tic-tac-toe, but that was kind of long, wasn't it? Before you could say something, his eye brightened with mirth. "How about checkers?"

You huffed. "I did have you beat in checkers."

He laughed, low and amused and very fond. You were fonder of him yourself than you liked to admit on your good days. "Keep telling yourself that, my villainous hero. Checkers it is. So, what do you say? Want to give me, us, a chance?"

You tightened your grip around the bracelet and leaned your cheek into his palm. His eyes darkened with want and something soft as you allowed him to cradle you. As you allowed him so close to your mind that he could ruin you, could destroy you forever, before you could ever hope to stop him.

"Touch civilians or Nightingale and I will end you," you said, a steel-solid promise uttered in a low, dangerous voice that made a darkly pleased grin appear on his face. He liked you sharp, he liked it when you showed that villainous streak that lurked below the surface. "Alright. Tell me your name, Madness, and then kiss me."

And so he did.

*.*.*

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