#its not even her wine i bought it with my own money

[cheynovak]

Sugar

Soldier boy x F/ reader  (Y/N)  

Warnings: 18+, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, age difference, oral sex, ...

Side note: English isn’t my first language.    

*Does not follow The Boys storyline * 

-- 

Y/N is a college student who pays her apartment, bills and school tuition with the money she makes as ‘sugar baby’ for Soldier boy. What started as just being a companion on lonely moments became quickly more physical.  

 

Ben just came home from a rough day, not in the mood for her. But she finds a way to ease him. 

-- 

In the dimly lit and luxurious loft nestled amidst the towering skyscrapers of New York, waits Y/N dressed in exquisite lingerie, chosen by him. The first time he had bought her lingerie or expensive parfum she had hated it.  

Like she wasn’t good enough for him the way she was. But then again, this adventure started out as ‘companionship’ getting some money for having dinner with him and listening to his fucked-up stories.  

But that soon turned around into something that looked more like prostitution. Not the quick and cheap fuck, kind of thing. No, she did get paid very well plus the extra gifts she got were a bonus.  

Y/N reclined on the velvet couch, her silhouette illuminated by the flickering flames of scented candles that cast a warm, intimate glow throughout the room. Her outfit, a delicate ensemble of lace and silk, clung to her curves in all the right places, a tantalizing promise of the evening's potential. 

Her mind drifted back to the night when everything changed, when Ben, as he was known to her then, had initiated their first intimate encounter.  

It had been a seemingly ordinary evening, with dinner at a high-end restaurant, where Ben had the best table. Followed by a stroll through the city streets. The conversation had flowed effortlessly, laughter punctuating the air as he shared stories. 

As the night wore on, he had asked her inside for another drink, and the last dregs of wine lingered in their glasses, Ben had leaned in, his touch igniting a fire within her that she hadn't known existed.  

She remembered the sensation of his hands tracing the contours of her body, the heat of his breath against her skin, how his lips claimed hers, it still sends shivers down her spine when she thinks of it.  

Caught off guard by his sudden advances, Y/N had frozen. And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. Ben had withdrawn “Why so tense?” he had asked. 

But without being able to form a sentence she left, without her money for the night. The next day he had called her for meeting up, but she ignored his calls for over a week.  

The sudden creak of the loft door snapped her back to reality. Her heart skipped a beat as she watched Ben stride in, dressed in his iconic green superhero outfit, the weight of his presence filling the room. 

But there was something different about him tonight. A palpable tension hung heavy in the air. His brow furrowed, jaw set in a tight line, he seemed lost in a cloud of discontent. 

Y/N's stomach churned with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension as she met his gaze, unsure of what to expect. Before she could utter a word, Ben's voice cut through the silence, sharp and curt. 

"I don’t need you tonight. You can go," he muttered, his tone laced with a bitterness she had never heard before. "There's money on the table." The words hit her like a punch to the gut, a stark reminder of the transactional nature of their relationship. 

Y/N rose from the lounge, her steps slow and deliberate as she approached Ben, who stood with his back turned, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. For a moment, she hesitated, its easy money, but then again, after these months she kind of bonded with this brute.  

Unsure of how to proceed, but then she steeled herself and reached out, her hands finding their way to his tense shoulders. As her fingers began to work their magic, kneading away the knots of tension that had taken root within him. 

Ben stiffened at her touch, a fleeting flicker of surprise crossing his features. Yet, he made no move to pull away, allowing her to continue. "Are you sure?" she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned in close, her breath tickling the nape of his neck.  

"You seem... tense tonight." She said in between kisses on his neck and shoulder, her hands moved to his stomach and slowly moved down, but he held her wrist in one hand.  “I’m not in the mood Y/N.” he bit.  

Y/N nodded in understanding, her fingers continuing their soothing dance back to his shoulder. "That's okay," she reassured him, her voice soft and reassuring. "You don't have to pretend with me." 

Her hands still kneaded his back.  

“I have an idea. Why don’t you lay down on the bed and let me give you a good massage. If you still want me to leave I will.” He looked at her over his shoulder and said with a sigh. “Fine.”  

"Relax," she whispered, her voice a soothing melody amidst the silence of the loft. "You don't have to do anything. Just let me take care of you." Those words brought a grin on his face. 

As Ben settled onto the end of the bed, Y/N knelt before him, her hands moving with practiced precision as she began to undo the buttons of his suit jacket. With each flick of her wrist, she revealed swaths of toned muscle beneath the fabric, the contours of his body a testament to the strength that lay within. 

With each button undone, she uncovered more of his skin, the warmth of his body radiating beneath her touch. With a soft exhale, Ben allowed himself to relax into her ministrations, the tension in his shoulders beginning to ebb away. 

And as she finally freed him from the confines of his clothing, he closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the blissful sensation of her hands against his skin. “Turn around.” she whispered.  

She kneaded the muscles of his shoulders and neck with just the right amount of pressure, coaxing them to relinquish their tight grip. Beneath her touch, Ben felt himself drifting, his mind unspooling from the worries and responsibilities that had weighed him down. 

Her hands so soft and yet every touch of her makes him wanting more.  

As Ben's eyes fluttered open, “Where did you learn to do this doll?” he looked over his shoulder. Only to find himself momentarily speechless at the sight that greeted him. There she sat, exquisite lingerie that left little to the imagination. 

How did he miss that when he walked inside?  

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Ben's eyes roamed over her, taking in every curve and contour with a hunger that betrayed his desires. And in that fleeting moment, Y/N saw the raw longing reflected in his gaze.  

He turned back around, sitting against the wall.  

Y/N leaned in close, her fingers deftly undoing Ben's pants with a boldness that took him by surprise. With each movement, he felt his breath catch in his throat, his body tensing beneath her touch. 

 

Revealing the evidence of his desire in all its glory. As she met his gaze once more, a silent understanding passed between them. As Ben's hand moved to the back of her head.  

With a silent nod, Y/N obeys, her fingers trailing lightly along his length as she leaned in closer, her lips parting to take him into her mouth. She began to fulfil his demand. 

Y/N heard Ben's moans and groans, the sound brings shivers all over her body. Encouraged by his response, she swirled her tongue around him, teasing and tantalizing with every flick and caress, gliding along his length. 

She changed her pace, alternating between slow, deliberate strokes and quick, eager movements, each one designed to drive him crazy. With each downward thrust, she took him deeper, her throat accommodating his girth. 

She hollowed her cheeks, applying just the right amount of suction to elicit a throaty groan from him, her own arousal mounting with each breathless sound he made. 

And as she continued her relentless assault, she felt him growing more desperate, his hips bucking involuntarily as he surrendered himself to the overwhelming pleasure. 

With each passing moment, she could feel him nearing the edge. As Ben felt the intense pleasure coursing through him, his words spilled. He growled, his voice thick with desire.  

"You're so desperate for it, aren't you?" Ben's voice was out of breath. "You could have left making a lot of money for nothing, but here you are... on your knees, sucking my cock." 

Y/N's pulse quickened at his words, her arousal mounting with each passing moment. His dominance over her fuelled a primal hunger within her. "Yes," she whimpered, her voice barely a whisper as she surrendered herself to him completely. " I wanted to feel you in my mouth, to taste you.” 

Ben's grip on her hair tightened, pulling her closer to him. "You're mine, aren't you?" Ben's voice was a low growl, his eyes dark with lust as he held Y/N's gaze captive. "Say it. Tell me you belong to me." 

"Yes," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm yours, Ben. All yours." 

A wicked grin spread across Ben's lips, a predator basking in the sweet surrender of his prey. "That's right," he purred, his words dripping with satisfaction. 

"You're such a filthy little slut." Ben's voice dripped with dominance, his eyes smouldering with a primal intensity as he looked down at Y/N. "You're going to take it all, aren't you?"  

Ben's voice was commanding, his gaze locked on Y/N with an intensity that left no room for hesitation. "You're going to swallow every last drop when I come, like the obedient little slut you are." 

Y/N's breath caught in her throat at his words, arousal forming between her legs. With a silent nod, she braced herself for what was to come, determined to prove her obedience to him.  

With a primal groan of pleasure, he surrendered himself to the overwhelming sensation, his release flooding her mouth. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady blend of salt and musk.  

As the last drop slipped down her throat, she felt a sense of fulfilment wash over her, a sense of satisfaction in knowing that she had pleased him, that she had surrendered herself completely to his desires. 

Ben's fingers threaded through Y/N's hair, his touch gentle and reassuring as he murmured a praise. "You're such a good girl," he whispered.  

"So obedient, so eager to please. I knew you were a good choice." 

Ben pulled her onto his lap, his fingers deftly worked at the clasp of Y/N's bra, she felt a rush of anticipation coursing through her veins, her heart quickening with excitement.  

With a soft click, the bra fell away, leaving her exposed to his hungry gaze. 

A hunger burning in his eyes, Ben leaned in closer, his lips trailing a path of fire along the curves of her breasts. He kissed and licked, his movements slow and deliberate as he explored every inch of her soft flesh. 

And as Ben's tongue found its way to her sensitive nipples, swirling and sucking with a fervour that left her gasping for breath, Y/N felt a surge of arousal coursing through her.  

As Y/N's moans of pleasure filled the air while her core grinded over his hips.  

Ben couldn't help but chuckle softly, a wicked grin playing on his lips as he revelled in the intoxicating sound. With each desperate whimper that escaped her lips, he felt a surge of satisfaction wash over him, knowing that he held her pleasure in the palm of his hand. 

Ben's teasing came to an abrupt halt. With a firm grip, he held her still, denying her the release she so desperately craved. His voice was a husky murmur against her ear as he whispered his final decree. 

"Goodnight, doll," he teased, his words dripping with playful mockery. Y/N's eyes widened in disbelief at his sudden change in demeanour, a surge of frustration coursing through her as she realized he was withholding the pleasure she so desperately sought. 

“W-what?” she looked at him while he pushed her of him. “Goodnight.” he repeated turning the lights off.  

As the minutes stretched into sleepless hours, Y/N lay beside Ben, her mind swirling with a tempest of desire and frustration. With a sigh of resignation, she slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb him as she made her way to the bathroom. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against the cool tile, her body thrumming with unspent arousal. 

With trembling fingers, she traced delicate patterns across her skin, teasing herself with feather-light touches that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the sensation as she sought out the release that had eluded her for so long. 

Her breath hitched as she brushed against her most sensitive spots, her fingers dancing with a rhythm all their own as she brought herself closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. 

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sound of Ben's voice, “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” he busted through the door. "I... I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and shame. "I just... I needed..." 

But before she could finish her sentence, Ben's voice cut through the silence once more, his tone tinged with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. 

"If I wanted you to come, I would have let you come," he declared.  

His grin appeared “Show me how wet you are.” Y/N's cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal at Ben's bold request. With a silent nod, she slowly parted her legs, revealing the glistening evidence of her arousal to him. 

Her breath caught in her throat as Ben's gaze lingered on her, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight before him. With a soft groan, he reached out, his fingers tracing a path along her inner thigh as he drew closer, his touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through her. 

"God, you're so fucking wet," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Wider doll.” he said giving her thigh a smack. Y/N's pulse quickened at his words, her body responding instinctively to his commanding tone. 

And as Ben leaned in closer, his fingers delved deeper inside her, Y/N's moans of pleasure filled the air. With each thrust of his hand, she felt herself spiralling closer and closer to the edge, her body trembling with the force of her impending release. 

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper against her skin. "You like that, don't you? You like it when I make you feel so good." She nodded her nails dug into his arm. 

"Fuck look at you. You're practically dripping.” "I need you," she gasped, her voice a breathless whisper. "I need you to make me come. Please, Ben, I can't take it anymore." 

As Ben pulled Y/N up, positioning her over the sink, a surge of anticipation rippled through her body, her breath catching in her throat as she braced herself for what to come. With a primal urgency, he pressed himself against her, his hard length throbbing with desire as he guided himself inside her from behind. 

With a firm grip on her hips, Ben began to move, setting a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure crashing over her. As he pounded into her with a primal fervour, she found herself unable to look away from the reflection staring back at her in the mirror. 

As Y/N's moans filled the bathroom, Ben's desire surged "Fuck, yes," Ben groaned, his voice a husky murmur as he surrendered himself to the overwhelming sensation. "That's it, baby. Moan for me. Let me hear how much you want it." 

Y/N's moans grew louder, more desperate.  

Please," she begged, her voice a breathless whisper. "Don't stop. I’m close... I need to come. Please, Ben, I need it." Ben's grip on her hips tightened, his own desire reaching a fever pitch as he felt her trembling beneath him. With a primal growl, he redoubled his efforts, driving her closer and closer to the brink with each thrust. 

And then, with a cry of ecstasy, she tumbled over the edge, her body convulsing with the force of her release. As Ben reached the peak of his own ecstasy, he released himself inside Y/N, filling her with warmth and intensity that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her body.  

As Ben pulled Y/N up from the sink, a trickle of their combined release dripped down her legs. "Listen next time," he demanded, his voice firm but tinged with a hint of playfulness. "Or I won't let you come for a whole month." 

With a silent nod, she acquiesced to his command, knowing that, in this game of passion and power, he held all the cards. With a gentle command, Ben instructed Y/N to clean up and join him in bed. As he headed towards the bedroom, he left her to tend to herself.  

A soft sigh, she cleaned herself up, the cool water of the bathroom soothing against her skin as she washed away the evidence. She walked toward the bed hearing Ben’s snores.  

With a soft smile, she slipped beneath the covers, nestling herself against his warm, familiar form. She felt his arm instinctively wrap around her, pulling her close in his sleep. His touch was warm and reassuring, a silent reminder of the deep connection that existed between them. 

With a contented sigh, she nestled against him, her body moulding perfectly with him as they lay intertwined in the darkness. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against her face was a soothing lullaby.  

--

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@yvonneeeee @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl

#fanfic #fluff #smut #the boys #x reader #soldier boy #the boys amazon #jensen ackles #jensen fucking ackles #jensenedit #the boys hughie #billy butcher #18+ only #18+ content #18+ blog #the boys smut #x y/n smut #x y/n #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x female reader #the boys series

[that-ikea-alien-plush]

its so hard celebrating a deity holiday when your mom yells at you for "wasting wine"👹👹 mom cant you see im giving it to my other mom whos a literal ancient cat goddess

#pagan #paganism #witchcraft #deity work #kemetism #kemetic #bastet #bastet devotee #its not even her wine i bought it with my own money

[corruptedcaps]

I’ll take it from here

Alex stood at the front door of Gina’s house and was rethinking her plan when suddenly the door opened and her bully stood right there in front of her.

“Do you have my work done yet loser? That better be why you asked to come to my house after school. I’m suppose to be going on a date with your hot step brother Harry.” Gina snarled at Alex who stood calmly before her tormentor but inside was a bundle of nerves. It might have been a mistake to meet Gina at her own home, it face the bitch home field advantage.

“N-no Gina I don’t have your homework and furthermore I won’t be doing it or anymore of your work going forward.” Alex said stuttering unable to hide her fear. Gina’s bitchy smirk however turned sour.

“Excuse me? You don’t decide to stop, I’ll tell you when you stop understand? Oooh I was looking forward to getting wined and dined by Harry but it’ll be just as much fun beating you up.” Gina said advancing on Alex who pulled out a large red jewel from her pocket and pointed it at Gina.

“No! Stay back! I didn’t want to do this, but I bought this magic rock, it will strip away all your evilness once I say the magic word. If you just walk away I won’t use it!” Alex said almost shaking. Gina however started to laugh.

“A magic rock? That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard! God I can’t wait until I tell all the girls about this tomorrow, they’re going to want a piece of you too. But for now you’re all mine!” Gina said with an evil grin as she advanced again on Alex.

“No please! No go away! Oh the hell with it! Alterexia!” Alex cried out and the gem started to glow. Before long its light was filling up the room and with a boom, a beam of red light hit Gina square in the chest. Then as quickly as it happened, the light died away.

“Wow nice light show geek but if I were you I’d get my money back.” Gina said mockingly. Alex looked at the gem confused, it should have worked. Then suddenly the gem turned to dust in her hand.

“Haha I guess even that’s not an option anymore. Now where were we.” Gina grinned as she stepped closer to Alex. However after one step she felt a sudden pull in her chest. Brushing it off she took another step and this time the pull was so intense that the buttons of her top flew open and she barely grabbed them.

“What the hell?” She said. It was as if her tits were trying to escape her body. Holding them tight she felt her breasts trying wriggle through her fingers.

“No! What’s happening? Stay put!” She cried but it was no use, with a pop her boobs came from her body leaving her with a flat, bare chest.

What happened next took both of them by surprise as the big boobs hung the air for just a moment before flying over to Alex and diving under her shirt. The very act froze Alex to the spot. It wasn’t until they reached her chest and slid over her own small pair, grafting onto them, that she let out a gasp.

“Ooohhhh fuck what is happening.” She groaned. It wasn’t a groan of pain though, it was one of wet eroticism. Her new heavy pair of tits felt so sensitive, her nipples standing at attention. The combination of both hers and Gina’s boobs gave her an impressive set.

“W-what the hell is this? What did you… wait, what’s happening now?” Gina said as she felt her head start to itch. Her blonde follicles began to rise and stand on end until one by one they were seemingly plucked by an unseen force. Before long every hair on her head was gone, suspended now in the air above her in a large clump.

Just as Gina jumped to grab the hair it shot across the room to Alex where it hit her softly in the face. It then migrated upwards to her head. Each strand latched onto one of her brown hairs, wrapping around it like a braid until it had consumed it and turned it bright gold. The whole process was orgasmic for Alex.

“Mmmm oh yesss that feels really goooood.” She moaned as her hair grew thick and strong thanks to having two sources. Alex ran her hands through her new hair and played with it lovingly. However she wasn’t happy with how her fingers looked wrapping her hair around them. Her nails were dirty and half bitten from stress. Not as nice as Gina’s pink press on acrylic’s. She suddenly wanted them. She felt she deserved them. Eyeing them with new found desire she instinctively lifted her hands out in front of her.

“Come to me, come to your new home.” Alex said in a new cold purr that came naturally to her now. Suddenly Gina’s arms went stiff and shot upwards. One by one each fake nail snapped off her fingers and flew over to a waiting Alex who groaned as each one pressed onto her own fingers.

“Mmmm yes these will do nicely. Thanks loser, I’m feeling hawt and bitchy thanks to you. No wonder you were so mean to me, I feel so fucking evil! But something tells me you have more to offer me.” Alex said as she strolled confidently over to a now cowering Gina.

“No please Alex don’t! I’ll stop bullying you and everyone else. I’ll do anything you want just please no more!” Gina said in a whimper. Alex stood over her unsympathetically.

“Why should I stop? I’m close to taking everything you ever had. I just need that deliciously evil mind of yours now and I’ll be the queen bee. You’ve been the model of an evil bitch but don’t worry I’ll take it from here. Oh and it’s Lexi from now on dork.” The new blonde said as she bore down on Gina and placed her new nailed hands onto her enemy’s bald head.

As soon as she made contact she threw her head back in ecstasy as her brain was filled up with fashion knowledge, juicy gossip and evil bitchy talents. Everything that made Gina ‘Gina’ followed effortlessly into Lexi’s head and a new wicked bitch was born. Not only that but remaining physical traits came over too. Tanned skin, perfect eyesight, pouty lips. They were all Lexi’s now.

As the transfer finished. Lexi let out a long cold cackle of triumphant. She felt incredible, unstoppable. She looked down at a catatonic Gina and smirked. She took off her own glasses and put them on Gina.

“Here loser, I don’t need them anymore, I’m perfection. Thanks to you I’ll be able to slip into the role of head bitch within a day. All your friends will be mine and all your boy toys too. Speaking of which I think you’ve lined up a hot date with my sexy step brother. Mmmm it’s so much badder knowing he sleeps in the room next to mine but after tonight I think we’ll only need one room from now on.” Lexi said grinning wickedly to herself while Gina drool in front of her.

Rolling her eyes Lexi pushed past Gina so she could get to firmer mean girls closet. If she was going to have a hot date she needed to dress the part. After 20 minutes of trying on sluttier and sluttier outfits she finally landed on one she thought would have her step brother creaming his pants.

“You have such hawt clothes Gina. Or should I say ‘had’. Once I rock Harry’s mind later I’ll have him come over here and get the rest of your clothes. Not like you’ll be using them.” Lexi said smiling wickedly again but Gina again remained motionless.

“Oh it’s no fun bullying you if you don’t react. I’ll have to find a way to give you some of your mind back soon but for now you can stand there and think about how you had everything and now have nothing.” Lexi said sarcastically blowing Gina a kiss before leaving.

In the quiet stillness of the room there suddenly was the sound of whipping sand. Particles of the magic rock around the room began to coalesce and reform before too long it had completely returned and sat upon the floor in front of Gina.

Gina’s mind was empty, nothing but darkness. However one word started to emerge from the darkness a word she had only heard once. Alterexia. It echoed again and again in her head. It was the only word in there. Her mouth started to move….

THE END

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #evil bitch #power transfer

[melancholymetropolis]

Unholy

pairing(s): Demon!Bakugo x HumanSacrifce!Reader

synopsis: Y/N is settling a nasty divorce dispute with her soon-to-be ex. Out of the blue, he calls her to "reconcile" and "put aside their difference". Less than an hour later, she was naked, tied to a bed, and offered to a twelve-foot-tall Demon Emperor, Bakugo Katsuki.

warnings: Rivals to Lovers. mention of roofies/drink tampering. reincarnation. a dash of a slice of life. the ml + fl argue a lot. bakugo is a simp. grumpy + sunshine. lowkey a royalty au. highkey monster fucking. cat + mouse game. minor grammar errors (will clean up a little later)

w.c: 9.2k

a/n: never say I don't love y'all.

“Drink up,” my soon-to-be ex-husband said, practically pushing the glass of wine into my face. 

I took the glass hesitantly and looked into it. There had been some sort of powdery residue floating on the top of it. I swirled it around a few times before setting it down on the table. I looked across the surface, past the flickering candles, and into his blue eyes. There was something off about the whole ordeal. My husband had never been the “romantic type”. He never made me dinner, even when we just started dating. He would usually order from a really expensive restaurant and call it a day. He never bothered to go the extra mile of putting on a plate, either. He made it clear that he was going to be as mediocre as possible, and I was supposed to be happy with it.

I never understood why I married him or what I saw in him originally. Maybe it was the consistency I craved or how easy it was being with him. He never challenged me in any way or stimulated me for that matter. We only slept together a handful of times in our three years together, but that didn’t bother me all too much. I was simply too busy with housework or my job to accumulate any sort of sexual desire. Yet, I could tell my spouse didn’t feel the same way. In recent months, I have noticed a change in his appearance. He started to shave more frequently, changed his hairstyle, and even bought some new clothes. He smiled whenever he got text messages and would sneak off when his phone rang. I even found a lipstick stain on his collar when doing his laundry, which all but confirmed that he was cheating.

I could deal with the lack of effort on his part. 

I could deal with practically being his maid.

I could even deal with him always “borrowing” money from my savings account.

But, what I couldn’t deal with was being the “other woman” in my marriage.

I filed for divorce shortly after that and moved out of the apartment.

It had been three months since everything happened, and he still hadn’t signed the goddamned papers.

“No, thank you,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not in a drinking mood.”

“O-Oh okay,” he stammered, sinking back into his chair.

“I came here because you said there had been some sort of emergency with our shared property,” I explained while pushing the plate of burnt pasta from in front of me. “It wasn’t my intention to have dinner with you.”

“I understand,” he replied, sipping his wine. “You probably still hate me.”

“I don’t care enough to hate you, John,” I said, rising from my seat. “If there is nothing else, I’ll be going now.”

“Y/N! Wait!” He called after me. “Don’t go!”

“If you have anything else to say to me, please notify my lawyer,” I deflected whilst grabbing my purse from the couch. “Have a good night.”

The alarm bells in my head were ringing, and I needed to make my way out of there quickly.

As I was turning around to take my leave, I felt a slight prick on the side of my neck. I raised my hand to the area and pressed it against it. I brought my finger to my face. There had been a clear liquid oozing from the area. I couldn’t immediately detect what it could’ve been, but I felt my body begin to sway on its own. I looked up at John, a medical syringe in his hands and a sadistic look on his face.

“Why do you always have to be so fucking difficult, Y/N?” He said, dropping the syringe on the ground.

“W-What are y-you talking about?” I slurred, trying to grab onto the couch.

“All you had to you was drink the wine,” John admitted. 

“W-Wha. . .” 

“Now, I have to drag you there myself.”

My hand slipped when trying to hold onto the couch, and my entire body crashed onto the floor. The room was spinning. The sounds were coming in and out of range. I could hear John say something, but I couldn’t piece the words together. My body started to feel tingly and numb all over. I could feel John pulling against my arms, but I couldn’t tell where he was taking me. He was still ranting about something, but, again, I had no idea what he was saying. I could feel my shirt ride up a little as John dragged me against the floor. It was only when I felt a familiar fuzzy sensation that I knew where we were. In our bedroom. Even with my mind half-conscious, I knew the feeling of my thousand-dollar designer rug. Part of me was still surprised that he kept it after all this time. Yet, another part of me knew never to expect so much of John. He would never make the effort to rearrange anything in our home.

But he could make the effort to cheat on me.

My eyelids grew heavier by the second. I was struggling to keep them open. 

All I could do was pray to God that whatever he had planned for me wouldn’t be too bad. I hoped that I would make it out of this apartment alive. If not, I would haunt the bastard for the rest of his miserable life.

My eyes fluttered closed, and darkness filled my vision.

“What do we have here?” A deep, throaty voice spilled into my ears. I could feel its hot breath fan my relaxed face and his eyes piercing my skin. “What a pretty little thing you are.”

I did not recognize the voice, nor would I ever. It didn’t sound human. Its pitch was far too deep, too robust for any human to make. It sounded like it belonged to something from another world or dimension. The alarm bells in my head had switched over to sirens. Every hair on my body was standing up, and I could feel sweat begin to dot my forehead. I knew, without a doubt, that there was some kind of eldrich terror on the other side of my eyelids, and I was not ready to face it. I could feel my tears well up and gather in my lashes. Murmurs spilled from my lips as I started to at the restraints binding my limbs.

“There’s no need to be afraid, little rabbit,” the monster purred. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I. . . I don’t believe you,” I whimpered, my eyes still shut.

“So she speaks,” it chuckled. “Wonderful.”

The soft surface— a bed— dipped a little on each side of me. Right near my mid-section. I could feel the heat radiating from its body. It came in slow, hot waves. It was almost like feeling the sun on your skin during the summer. It painted every inch of my skin— wait. I could feel it all over my body. From my legs and arms to my breasts and womanhood. My eyes snapped open, and I immediately looked down. I could the soft candlelight reflected onto my smooth legs. It danced up my oiled thighs and chubby stomach to my ample bosoms. I could see the brown nipples sitting pretty atop the mounds. Just inches above me was a pair of thighs, closely resembling tree trunks, straddling my waist. They were covered in tight leather pants, outlining every muscle. Just above the thighs was a pale torso with rippling abs. Far too many for me to count. Followed by a wide chest and broad shoulders. The muscles in his arms were almost the size of my thighs, and one of its hands could easily cover my entire face. 

His jawline was sharp as nails, and his lips were full. He had two pairs of crimson eyes and horns. They added an extra foot to his massive stature despite being slightly curved at the base. The creature had blonde hair that pointed in every direction and mostly fell in its eyes. Under any other circumstances, I could’ve easily been swooned by his ruggedly handsome face. 

“Like what you see, little rabbit?” he smirked.

“Who are you?” I asked, pulling the restraints. “What do you want with me?”

“Ah, so your husband didn’t tell you,” the creature said, resting on his heels. “How unfortunate.”

“Tell me what?” I questioned. 

“He sold your soul,” it replied nonchalantly. “To me.”

“What?” I exclaimed. 

“Yeah, I was pretty shocked, too,” the creature confessed. “I mean, look at you. You’re any man’s wet dream. Thick in all the right places. A seductive, deep voice—”

"What exactly are you gonna do to me?" I interjected, gripping the restraints tighter. 

"Well, your husband was pretty adamant about getting rid of you," the creature replied. "He signed a death contract to get you out of this dimension."

It could’ve been his dismissive demeanor or his obvious attraction to me, but whatever fear I had previously felt was slowly melting away to make room for confusion. John had been the kind of person to hire personal chefs and cleaning staff to avoid the responsibilities of managing a house. He would have his assistant buy me anniversary presents rather than buy one himself. He was a man who went out of his way to put minimal effort into our marriage, yet he dared to sell me to a twelve-foot demon from hell. I could feel the anger pool within my being. 

The creature above me inhaled deeply. "Your rage is oozing from your pores and dancing within my nostrils," he chuckled. "It has been so long since I smelled something so sweet.".

"Um, Mr. Demon?"

"Bakugo, sweetness," he corrected. "You may call me by my surname, Bakugo."

"Okay. . . Bakugo," I hesitated. "Would you mind untying me and giving me some clothes? I'm feeling pretty. . . exposed at the moment."

A deep, rumbling chuckle erupts from his throat as rose from the bed. "Your body is too precious to be covered with garments. But, since I am in a generous mood, I'll grant your request."

With the snap of his finger, I was no longer tied to the bed. My body has been positioned in the far corner of the room, furthermore from the door. I was standing up, facing the creature that was less than a foot away from me. He seemed even bigger from that angle. His horns were practically scraping the ceiling. Bakugo looked at me with such indescribable hunger that it made shivers trail down my spine. I looked down at my feet, desperately trying to break the tension between us, yet I was a little shocked by what I had on. 

I wasn't wearing any of my clothes, but something a little more unique, to say the least.

The dress was black and tight. It hugged every inch of my body while highlighting the parts that were "flattering" to men. It had a deep neckline that brought attention to my cleavage. The leather fabric gave the short dress an uncomfortable stiffness. The skirt barely covered my ass and strained at the thigh section. The six-inch patent leather stilettos made my legs even longer. My wrists were covered in gold bangles, and my hands were covered in rings made of lavish stones. 

"Bakugo, what is this?" I asked, inspecting the jewelry. "Why am I dressed like this?"

"As I said earlier, your husband signed a death contract," he informed me. "He used your life as collateral for the deal he made with me a little while ago."

"Why would he make a deal with you in the first place?" 

"He used to clean money for the mafia a few years before he met you."

"Holy shit."

"And like the selfish idiot he was, he stole a small fortune from them."

"How much?"

"Close to fifty million."

"Holy shit!" I gasped. "Did he have a fucking death wish?"

"The mafia seemed to think so, and they actively started to hunt him," the demon continued. "As a final attempt to save his pathetic life, he summoned me. Bakugo Katsuki, Emperor of the Underworld." 

At that moment, I could feel my heart drop to my stomach. Bakugo was a Samurai turned Emperor in the fourteenth century. He was appointed to the throne by Emperor Go-Daigo, who was awed by his fighting skills and his grit. The Emperor birthed no sons during his reign, so he adopted Bakugo and turned him into a crown prince. He was known to be exceedingly cruel and had a nasty temper. All kinds of stories supported these kinds of accusations. Like the one about him feeding his esquire to a tiger after he looked at the Empress a little too long. Or another about him hanging a war general by his ankles for challenging his judgment. He had the entire war counsel watch as the blood rushed to his head and ended up killing him.

Not only that,  he managed to be a notorious bachelor. Rumored to have had three wives and ten concubines during his prime.

As the legend goes, the devil himself was awed by Emperor Bakugo's lavish lifestyle and offered him a position in hell once he died. The Emperor managed to work his way up the ranks, ultimately taking the Devil’s position once he retired. By the end of everything, Bakugo Katsuki was the ruler of all sin and could manipulate anyone to do his bidding. He was even more dangerous dead than he was alive.

A cocky smirk fell onto his lips as he brought his face closer to mine. "Pretty impressive, huh?" He said as if reading my mind.

"Y-yeah," I stammered, swallowing the lump in my throat. 

"No need to be afraid of me, little rabbit," he said while tucking a braid behind my ear. "I already told you that I do not plan on harming you in any way."

"Then what do you plan on doing with me?" Fear still licking my being and making my hands shake gently.

"Allow me to finish the story, sweetness," he replied. "You'll find out by the end."

"Okay."

"I granted John temporary immunity from the mob in exchange for another life. There's a balance between these things. A life for a life, if you will," he continued. "The person has to be pure, almost incapable of sin. He encountered many girls that fit the description, but being the rotten individual he is, John managed to corrupt them. Making them greedy and money hungry just like him. That was until he met you. A wealthy physician from a rich family and lots of money in the bank. You are as sweet as pie and quite as easy on the eyes. You became his safety net. He didn't have to work too hard if he didn't want to. He never has to put any effort into the relationship since you are already too busy. It was a perfect union. Until he discovered the life insurance policy."

My eyes widened. "How did he find out about that?"

"Snooping through your mail," Bakugo shrugged. "It was then that you became more valuable dead than alive."

"So, a couple of million, and he's willing to put me on the chopping block?"

"Not at first," the demon responded. "But you decided to divorce him, completely stripping any chance he would’ve had to obtain that money. Since you two signed a prenuptial agreement with an infidelity clause, John was entitled to none of your money at the very end."

 Anger started to rise in my being once more. The sheer amount of entitlement he had was simply outstanding. He was the one who cheated. He was the one who emotionally checked out the marriage first. Yet, instead of acknowledging his mistake and moving forward, he went under the table to try and get me killed. 

"That fucking bastard!" I said aloud, balling my fists so tight my knuckles turned white.

"Yeah," Bakugo replied. "Your husband's a real peach."

"So the death contract," I stated, beginning to piece it together. "He signed it to repay the debt he owed to you and to get the money in my insurance policy?"

"Bingo!" 

"This greedy motherfucker!" I growled. "I cannot believe him!"

"Truly a greedy bastard," Bakugo agreed, nodding his head.

I paused.  "Wait. But what does that mean for me? Are you saying you're going to kill me?"

A wide smile appeared on Bakugo's face. "Not quite. Maybe even the opposite, if you think about it."

"I'm confused."

"I'm going to make you my Empress, little rabbit."

Bakugo’s dimension was surprisingly tame for being an extension of hell. It had a bright pink sky and crimson mountains lining the outside perimeter of the area. On the far edge of a secluded village was his castle. From my minimal knowledge of Japanese history, it was loosely inspired by the Bitchu Matsuyama Castle— the one that Bakugo most likely lived in when he was alive. The ceilings were taller than the original, probably to accommodate the Emperor’s height. There were pillars made of gold and jade lining the room. The floor was made of hardwood, so clean you could see your reflection. The walls are made of watercolor paintings and gold patterns. Silk drapes hung from the ceiling in a decorative pattern, adding more color to the space. Beautiful women of all shades and sizes lingered in the halls, giggling with one another. They stopped once we made eye contact. They quickly bowed their head and moved out of my way.

The guards, Iida Tenya and Sato Rikido, had given me a tour of the grounds before bringing me to the Empress’ estate on the far end of the property. It was made up of a massive house with about four floors. It was filled with lavish gifts and treasures. From tiger skin rugs to a solid gold statue of Bakugo in the middle of the front room. There had been diamonds and rubies spilling from fountains. Jewelry was littered all over my room. My closet was overflowing with the softest silks and chiffons ever made.

“This is simply too much,” I said, lifting a diamond-crusted bracelet from the bed. “I can not accept all of this.”

“Would you like me to summon Emperor Bakugo, Empress?” Iida asked.

“Well. . . No, that won’t be necessary,” I sighed, taking a seat on the bed. “I will be meeting him for dinner in a few hours, yes?”

“You will, Empress,” Sato replied. “It is customary for the Emperor and the Empress to share meals.”

“Alright, I’ll just talk to him then,” I reassured them before flopping down. “For now, I would like to rest. If there is nothing else, you two may go.”

The guards bowed their heads and excited the room.

I lifted a stray piece of jewelry from the bed and brought it to my eyes. It was a heavy gold chain with a massive emerald pendant in the center. It had to at least be worth a few hundred thousand, yet it was half-heartedly thrown on my bed and tangled with other pieces of similar value. I wasn’t a stranger to wealth. My family came from a long line of professionals, from doctors to politicians. I have had family members with exclusive Cartier pieces and Tiffany jewelry fit for royalty. Yet, when looking at the items on my bed, they didn’t have the same aura as those. It didn’t feel like I was meant to brag about these necklaces and rings. It wasn’t my responsibility to make everyone around me jealous. I was simply supposed to exist whilst wearing the pieces. They were meant to be extensions of myself. An extension of my aura— of my power. 

I rose from my slumped position on the bed and walked to the vanity. I brought the necklace to my neck and gazed at my reflection. The gold and the green complimented my bronze skin very well. I undid the clasp in the back and positioned the necklace against my collarbone. I attempted to fasten it, but my braids kept getting in the way. 

“Allow me,” said a familiar voice.

I looked over to see the Emperor, resting in the door frame. He changed his attire; it had been a little more Regal than before. He wore silk pants, perfectly tailored to his body. They highlighted his slender waist and plump rear. He remained shirtless but had a decorative robe draped over his shoulders. It swayed as he walked over to me. His hands were adorned with rings, almost like mine, except they didn’t have large jewels. They were simple gold bands. 

Emperor Bakugo scooped all my hair to my left shoulder before closing the clasp on the necklace. “It looks good on you,” he said, still gripping my shoulders.

I brushed my hands against the pendant and hummed softly. “I guess it does.”

We sat in silence for just a few moments before I felt his hands drop from my shoulder and snake around my waist. He pulled me closer to his massive body. I could feel the heat radiating from his body and the sweet aroma he carried. He smelled of citrus and cherry blossoms with a hint of spice. It was a scent that brought calm to my being. I found myself leaning into the embrace, intertwining my fingers with his. It was nice to be held like that. Without any ulterior motives or sexual advances, Just to be held by someone who cares for you. 

“Have you started to remember, my love?” His voice was low enough to be a whisper. 

I locked eyes with him through the mirror. “Remember? What do you mean?”

A painful look flashed on Bakugo’s face before he quickly shook it away. “Forget it.”

“No,” I murmured, turning to face him. “Just tell me. Is there something you wanted me to remember? Is it about John?”

The emperor took a deep breath before pulling me closer to his body. “The walls in this place often have ears attached to them. Let’s go somewhere to be truly alone.”

“Okay.”

Red smoke started to appear at our feet before circling up our legs and abdomens. It engulfed our bodies, breathing pulling us into darkness as it did. I could feel cold winds swirling around me as he moved from one place to another. The sweet smell of my bedroom was soon replaced with the stench of stale air and rotting wood. My bare feet were no longer pressed against warm hardwood; instead, I could feel the cool tile sending shivers through my body. When the smoke cleared, we were not only in a different place, but it felt like a different dimension. It was neither Earth nor Hell, maybe space between the two. It didn’t have the heaviness of the surface, the summer breeze, or twinkling stars. Nor did it have the robustness of hell; it didn’t have the pink sky or the black mountains lining the perimeter. Instead, everything was black and white. Almost like films in the early 1930s. The property that Bakugo transported us to was in pristine condition, despite a few cracks along the ceiling. The furniture was covered in sheets, and the windows had pale drapes blocking out the light from outside. Faded watercolor paintings decorated the doors. Jade stone pillars were supporting the high ceiling. In many ways, it looked almost identical to Bakugo’s mansion back in hell, just less lavish.

“What is this place?” I asked, gently touching the stone pillar.

“This was the palace of the first Empress, Kimiko,” he said with a sigh. “My first and only love.”

“Oh.”

Bakugo smiled softly before abruptly snapping his fingers. Warm light illuminated the front room, adding a little bit of color around us. The emperor walked over to the very back of the room, directly in front of a massive piece of furniture. He reached down and pulled the sheet from atop it, revealing a glistening throne. It was carved out of obsidian, a shiny black crystal— which just so happened to ward off evil and negative emotions. It had gold trimming along the edges and large rubies embedded within the armrests. The base was large enough to seat more than one person, which made me wonder if Bakugo spent some time ruling by her side. 

The emperor gently caressed one of the armrests while smiling sadly to himself.

“She was the only one to ever beat me in a fight,” he chuckled. “She laid me flat on my ass before I could even form a proper sentence. I think I started to fall in love with her then.”

“She sounds delightful,” I offered, standing beside him.

“She was,” he reminisced. “She had a temper similar to mine but only unleashed it when it was necessary. She could tame any dragon or beast with a few words. Kimiko handled herself with such poise and grace that even her enemies had to respect her. She was never the type to ask for dominance because people simply gave it to her.”

“What. . . happened to her?” I hesitated. 

“She had what you humans now call “cancer”,” he answered, sadly. “It was the only foe she couldn’t best.”

“I’m sorry,” I offered, placing my hand on his arm.

The twelve-foot demon turned his body away from the throne and took both my hands in his. He looked into my eyes as if he were looking at me for the very first time. Bakugo scanned my entire face, searching for something that I could put my finger on. “I believe you are Kimiko reincarnated, Y/N.”

My eyes widen and I took a step back from him. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“Just before she died, Kimiko and I made a blood oath,” he said, unfastening his silk pants. Bakugo lowered the waistband, just a little bit, to reveal a jagged scar; in the shape of a ‘k’. “We vowed to find each other in the next life, with the help of these marks. I have searched many women throughout the five hundred years I have been alive and only one has the letter ‘k’ etched on her waist. And that person is you, Y/N.”

“Bakugo, I don’t think—”

“I didn’t want to believe it at first,” he interjected. “I mean you two look nothing alike. But the longer I have been in your company, the more I could feel this undeniable connection between us. And I know you feel it, too.”

“Bakugo—”

“There is a reason why aren’t scared of me and why came you to the Underworld so willingly.”

“I didn’t think I had a choice!” I countered. “John signed the death contract!”

“Y/N, I know this is hard to believe and I would be a complete idiot to think you’d accept this right away—”

“I didn’t think demons existed several hours ago!” I screamed, frustrated. “All I wanted to do was to divorce my shit husband and go back to my normal life as a surgeon. Not get remarried to a literal ruler of Hell and become an Empress! I didn’t even have the time to deal with the mess John put me in, before being thrown into yet another role I did not ask for. I mean for fuck’s sake, could you have at least given me the remainder of the night to process what happened before springing this on me?! What else do you have under your sleeve? Are going to tell me you have powers or something?”

“Y/N?”

“What?”

“You’re hair is on fire.”

As much as I wanted to deny my connection to Bakugo’s late wife, more and more evidence started to unravel. From what the maids had told me, the emerald chain that the emperor fastened on my neck was Kimiko’s family heirloom. It was passed down for generations to the first-born daughter of the family. However, since Kimiko died childless, Bakugo decided to keep it to himself. I had tried to take it off, discard it from my sight, but the clasp refused to budge. None of my maids could undo it and I wasn’t in the mood to face Bakugo after that night. I was stuck with the necklace on for the remainder of the week, forced to face my reality. Another quirk that came with this reincarnation scandal was the fire. It appears everywhere when I was angry. It started out with my hair, causing it to spike up and lift from my neck. The angrier I get the more the flames engulf my body. It doesn’t hurt, nor does it partially bother me. Almost everything in the Underworld was flame resistant, meaning there was nothing to really worry about. 

The maids informed me that Kimiko had fierce red hair, resembling a raging fire. It was part of the reason why many feared her in the first place. Given the dimension and the reincarnation drama, I assumed the lore surrounding her life started to literally manifest the longer I stayed in the underworld. Like when the emperor tried to enter my room without my permission and I managed to toss him across the room in the blink of an eye. We were both shocked by the end of it. 

But, he made sure to leave me alone after that.

There were whispers outside my door. A conversation between a very squeaky, feminine voice and a booming masculine one.

I rolled my eyes.

He does it every afternoon— knocking on my door after his morning meetings, in hopes I would invite him in to talk. 

The maids knew never to let him and Bakugo knew never to force himself where he didn’t belong. Unless he wanted to be humbled in front of his subjects.

The door opened and one of the servants hurried inside the room. She bowed her head as she stood in front of my bed. 

“Do I have permission to speak, Your Grace?” She squeaked.

“Of course,” I replied, repositioning the pillow underneath my head.

“The Emperor has requested you meet him for dinner,” she presented, still looking at the floor.

“Tell him to fuck off,” I said, turning my back to her. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“He brought you a gift,” she started to say before I cut her off.

“I don’t need any more jewelry,” I countered. “I can’t even store the pieces I have.”

“No jewelry, but a person. By the name of John.”

I snapped my eyes open and sat straight up in the bed. “Wait does that mean. . . John’s dead?”

“He said if you have any questions, to ask him at dinner tonight,” the servant replied.

“Fine, tell him I will be in attendance,” I admitted, crossing my arms over my chest. “But, inform him that I will not be staying for long.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.” The servant bowed again before leaving the room.

Several new maids entered the space shortly after, their heads lowered and eyes looking towards the ground. 

“May I help you?” I asked, kicking my legs over the side of the bed. 

“We’ve been instructed by the emperor to assist in dressing for dinner,” the woman on the right said, crossing her hands over her midsection. 

“He instructed that we place you in traditional empress attire,” the one on the left added. 

Emperor Bakugo Katsuki was pushing me into a corner. He wanted me to conform to the role of Empress, even though I would rather walk through the fiery bits of hell naked. I spent the majority of the last week in my room. I only opened the door to get my food trays and greet my servants in the morning. I refused to meet anyone from the royal council or any associate of Bakugo’s. The emperor wanted me to step into my role as Empress so badly that he was willing to try anything— even drag John to the underworld to make it happen.

“That’s not gonna happen,” I countered, walking across the room to the bathroom. “I am capable of dressing myself.”

“But, Your Majesty—”

“If the Emperor has a problem with my decision, tell him he could eat alone for all I care.”

The servants did end up helping me, just not with my outfit. They helped dry my waist-length braids with smaller towels. They divided each braid and applied moose to them. The maid twisted them around flexi-rods and wrapped my head with a silk scarf. Next, we surveyed the makeup that Bakugo had gifted me before I arrived. The blushes and eyeshadows were made up of cool tones, which weren’t complementary to my bronze skin tone. Out of all the blues and purples that were provided, I was able to find muted earth tones in the pile. A collection of browns and metallic shimmers. I decided to make a smoky eye with these shades, with a cut crease. I used gold to fill in the gap to really make my eyelid pop. 

“You should wear red lipstick!” The servant on the left— Yua— said, sliding the red lip across the vanity. “It would be a nice pop of color!”

“I don’t know. . .” The other one— Aika— replied. “The red may be a little too bright. She should go with something a little more neutral. Like a brown!”

Yua snatched the tube of lipstick from her hand. “You don’t know anything about beauty products! Red would be better for Your Majesty’s lips.”

“I disagree,” Aika snatched the red tube from her partner’s hand. “The red would be too distracting. Brown would fit the theme a little better.”

“No, you’re wrong—”

“I was planning on using both of them actually,” I said, turning to look at the younger women.

“Really?” They asked in unison. “How?”

I held out my hand and they gave me the tubes. I popped the cap off of the deep brown lipstick and brought my thin, damp brush to it. I rubbed it against the smooth surface, before bringing the brush to my lips. I outlined the shape of my mouth with a dark color, before placing the cap on the tube. I used a thicker brush to swatch on the red lipstick, but only used a little bit of it on my lips. I topped the section with a clear lip gloss and started to rub my lips together, blending the two lipsticks perfectly. 

“Wow!” Yua said, amazed. “I would’ve never thought of that!”

“Me neither!” Aika agreed. “It looks so good. Your Majesty is the queen of cosmetics!”

I laughed loudly and rose from my seat. “You give me too much praise. I can assure you there are many women better than me at makeup. I only know how to do simple things.”

“Well, you make simple look good,” Aika chimed in.

“You do!”

I laughed and walked over to the closet. I looked through the hundreds of pieces that were filling the space. Although the pieces were absolutely stunning and very much my style, none of the clothes were big enough to fit me. Except for the floor-length robes in the back of the closet. Granted, they were made with the finest silks of all the land, but they did nothing to compliment my figure. They would completely cover me with unnecessary fabric, making me look even bigger than I actually was. I immediately thought back to the night in the bedroom, where Bakugo made clothes appear on my body out of thin air. Even though I had only been in the Underworld for a week, I was already showing signs of magical abilities. I wondered if the physical manifestation of items was a trait that only the emperor could have, or if was I capable of doing it as well. 

I pulled out a random item of clothing from the closet. An all-leather catsuit with a zipper in the center front. There had been a pair of cat ears and a fluffy tail butt plug attached to the hanger.

“These two must’ve been into some seriously kinky stuff,” I said, lifting the tail of the hanger and dangling it in the air.

“Emperor Bakugo talks about Kimiko whipping him all the time— ow!” Yua screeched and hugged her side.

Aika swiftly shook her head a placed a finger on her lips.

I tossed the sex toy to the side and took the item of clothing into my hands. I closed my eyes and simply pictured it on my body. I focused on how I wanted it to fit— how I wanted it to hug my curves, but allow just enough room for me to move comfortably. I could feel my body gradually heat up. The silk robe I had been wearing had slowly begun to slip off, fading out of existence. It was swiftly replaced with a thicker, tiger fabric. It hugged my hips and thighs tightly, while loosely fitting around my tummy. The silk scarf started to slip from my head and my braids untangled from the curlers. I could feel them fall to my back. 

When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in my room. I was wearing the catsuit and it fit just as perfectly as I imagined. But, traditional Japanese rode and graced my shoulders. I didn’t know how the two got paired together, but given the state of the outfit, I was not upset at the combination. I was standing in front of massive paper doors, and by the sound of Bakugo’s booming voice, I had to be outside of the throne room. 

“Come in, my Empress,” he yelled from the other side of the door. “I have been expecting you.”

Hesitantly, I gripped the handle and slid it open. There had been a slew of upper-rank nobility within the space. Every one of them had a different appearance. Some had horns, while others were covered in scales. Some had pointed ears and a long tail, while others appeared to me more human with black eyes. But, no matter what they looked like, they all openly gawked at me. 

“I hope you don’t mind, darling,” Bakugo said with a smirk. “I simply couldn’t wait until dinner time, so I summoned you a little bit earlier than we planned.”

I neutralized any raging emotions that threatened to rise and took a deep breath. I looked at the nobles and gave them a curt nod. “My apologies for having met you in such imprudent circumstances, I was a little under the weather this week.”

“It is no problem at all, Your Majesty,” a loud voice replied from the far end of the room. “We are just happy to be in your presence.”

“Oh you are too, kind the gentleman whose face I cannot see!” I said bowing my head slightly. “I hope to meet you very soon and become good acquaintances.”

I walked down the designated aisle and up the few steps to where Bakugo was seated. I raised my eyebrow, silently asking ‘where am I supposed to sit?”

“Because of such an impromptu schedule change, you just might have to sit on my lap for the meeting,” Bakugo chuckled while patting the area. “I’m sure it will be more comfortable than any chair you have ever sat on.”

He was pushing my buttons and it was working. I wanted nothing more than to not see the smug look right off his face. But, I knew that would only result in more problems. An idea popped into my mind, making a slight smile fall onto my lips. 

I turn my back to the twelve-foot demon and press my ass right on his lap. I push my hips backward; I could feel my lower cheeks brush right against his crotch. Bakugo’s hands immediately sunk into my thighs and helped me spin around so that I was sitting sideways. I wiggled my thighs, under the ruse of getting my comfort, and rubbed against his member once again. That time the mighty emperor sucked in a breath.

“You are playing with fire, Empress,” Bakugo whispered, digging his fingers deeper into my thighs. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Emperor,” I murmured, innocently. 

Every noble in the room had started the meeting by introducing themselves and their stations. Like Izuku Midorya, chief of defense and weapons. Or Todoroki Shoto chief of merchants and foreign goods. Those two were particularly nice and even kissed my hand upon greeting me. Izuku even winked at me when he pulled away, which made a blush erupt on my face. Bakugo growled silently beneath me, but he didn’t say anything. I decided to drive the knife even deeper into the growing wound.

“I look forward to getting to know you, Midorya,” I said sweetly. “Maybe we could have tea sometime soon?”

“It would be my honor, my Empress,” he replied, placing a hand over his heart. “I will be waiting for your invitation.”

“You are too kind,” I cooed, tucking a braid behind my ear. “I have a feeling you’ll make a lovely acquaintance.”

“Acquaintance? You’re breaking my heart, dear Empress,” he professed. “I was hoping to be your dear friend, at least.”

I placed my hand on my mouth and turned away. “Holy cow! He has me blushing like a teenager,” I whispered to myself, hoping that Bakugo would. “I’m gonna have some fun with him.”

“Enough!” The Emperor yelled, startling the entire court. “This meeting is over! The Empress and I have another engagement to tend to. The introductions will resume at a later date.”

“Farewell to all!” I said, rising from Bakugo’s lap. “It was nice seeing all of your beautiful and unique faces! I hope to become great friends with all of you!” 

“Farewell, Empress,” someone called from the far side of the room. “I hope to see you again soon.”

“Goodbye, for now, Your Majesty,” another said. “I will miss gazing upon your immense beauty!”

“Oh, you are just humoring me,” I replied, smiling widely. “I will be back soon. I promise.”

“We miss you already!” Someone else yelled.

“Come to our next meeting!”

“We want to see you every day!”

Red smoke appeared beneath my feet and started twirling up my body. I closed my eyes and attempted to feel the magic encasing my body. I wanted to remember what it felt like, just in case I was given the opportunity to replicate it. Although the palace was nice and I liked the Empress's treatment, I still wanted to go home. Back to where everything was normal. Back to where I could be myself and not a reincarnated soul. The wind started to pick up around us, adding a particular chill down my spine. We were not covered in darkness, but an immense light. It was warm, almost like candlelight. Even the floors were particularly warm and inviting. I opened my eyes to see that we were back in the Empress’ palace. But, unlike before, it was restored. No longer cold and damp, but comfortable and homie. The sheets no longer covered the furniture and the doors looked freshly painted. Even the throne seemed to be dusted and polished; shining even brighter than before. Fresh rose petals were scattered throughout the room, as the soft sound of violins played in the background. 

Romantic was hardly a good word to describe the atmosphere. It was more than that. It oozed passion and poise. It was elegant, as it was refreshing. I could feel some of my stress drip away and my heart warm. I looked back at the towering Emperor, his face still turned up in a scowl and his lips pursed.

“You did this for me?” I asked, taking his hand into mine.

“So what if I did?” He snapped back. “You’re just gonna find a reason to be mad at me anyway.”

A gentle smile fell on my lips, as I felt my body suddenly lift from the ground. Once we were on the same level, I took his face into my hands and looked him in the eye. His crimson eyes began to fade into a bright red the longer he looked at me. His grimace faded into a cocky smirk as he brought his hand to my chin. 

“Are gonna kiss me or what?” He teased.

“I’m starting to think you don’t deserve one,” I admitted, bringing my face closer to his. “After that little stunt, you pulled earlier. Forcing me to meet the nobles. You ain’t slick, demon.”

“You enjoyed it,” Bakugo cackled. “Having dozens of men fawning over you. You were gushing and blushing the whole time. You love being the center of attention.”

I draped my arms over his shoulders and hummed softly. “I don’t recall this ‘gushing’ you speak of. But, I did blush a few times. That Izuku fellow is quite the charmer.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you have a crush on the brat,” he said, placing his hands on my waist. He pulled me closer to him; our chests pressed together and our limbs began to intertwine. “Who knows? You’ll probably run away with him the minute I turn my back.”

“Are you jealous, Emperor?” I chirped, my smile getting wider. “Jealous of a mere chief?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he chuckled. “You are just a royal pain in my ass and so is he. In fact, you two would be perfect together.”

“Maybe I should run away with him,” I joked, gently slipping out of his arms. “He’ll probably treat me better anyway.”

“Come back here, Empress,” he called, taking my wrist and drawing me back to his chest. “Who said I’d let you get away?”

My heart was beating in my chest, so loud it was clouding my thoughts. The heat was radiating from his body and pooling around mine. The look he had in his eye was nothing short of lust and longing. He wanted me. Emperor Bakugo Katsuki of the Underworld wanted me. And I was beginning to want him too. The chemistry between us was undeniable. The longer we stood next to one another, the harder it was to resist each other. The way his hands gripped my hips was sending all kinds of signals to my womanhood. I wanted his hands to touch every inch of my body, along with his mouth. His lips seemed all that more inviting the closer we were. Just a few hours ago, I wanted nothing but to knock him on his ass. Again. But, now, I wanted to do unholy things with the demon before me. 

Before I could think, I pressed my lips against his. I could feel him tense up for a second, before melting into the embrace. His strong arms wrapped around my smaller body and pressed me against a nearby wall. His moans filled the room as his hands kneaded the soft flesh of my rear. The emperor moved the kisses along the side of my face. Kissing along my jaw and against my neck. He sucked and nipped the soft tissue, making my toes curl in response. I pressed my nails into his bare back. Bakugo took his freakishly long tongue and dragged it along the side of my neck and jaw; bringing his mouth right back to mine. He kissed me passionately once more before pulling away.

“I want you,” He purred. His eyes were drilling into my mine. “I’ve wanted you since the night that asshole stripped you naked and tied you to the bed. But, I wanted to wait. I needed you to want me just as much as I wanted you.”

Although it was the bare minimum, the small action proved one great thing: Bakugo may be a demon, but he wasn’t a monster. He respected my agency and didn’t push my boundaries all that much. He could’ve forced himself on me and no one would’ve batted an eye since he was the Emperor. Instead, he let me mourn for my old life in a luxurious room and send me my favorite foods to liven up my mood. Underneath his intimidating size and appearance, he was a really good guy. Or, demon.

“Tell me, Empress,” he said, between kisses. “Tell me you want me, too.”

“I do.”

The emperor lifted me from the wall and walked deeper into the palace. His lips and hands never left my body. He was all over. Kissing my neck, palming my rear, and unzipping my hands. Bakugo was smothering me in affection and I was simply getting drunk off of it. It felt like there had been more than two hands on my body. And, when he placed me on the bed, I realized that there were. Bakugo had grown an extra pair of arms, directly below his previous ones. They were the same length and size, basically identical. But, that wasn’t the only thing added to his appearance. He had tattoos covering his arms and chest. A massive serpent tattoo traveled up his first set of arms, while the heads were displayed on his chest. The other pair of arms paled a little in comparison. There had been a few Japanese words written in kanji on his forearms, while the tips of his fingers looked to be tattooed a deep black. Resembling them being dipped into ink. He had piercings on his nipples and tongue, in addition to the many on his ears. Bakugo, somehow, managed to make himself look even hotter than before; a talent I didn’t know he had.

“I was planning on keeping the glamor up until after we had— you know,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “But, it was getting a little tiring maintaining it. We can stop if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No!” I said a little too quickly. “This is good. Really good.”

The cocky smirk returned to his lips. “Ah, so you prefer my Demon form over the other one? How interesting.” He leaned closer, allowing his body to hover over mine. One of his hands started to pull at the zipper of the catsuit, while another gently pulled out a breast from behind the cloth. “You are almost making it harder to resist fucking you right here and right now.” 

His massive tongue rolled out of his mouth. He lowered his head but kept his eyes on me. Bakugo wrapped the tip of the tongue around my exposed nipple. The foreign sensation made my body shiver. I felt myself arching into his mouth. I wanted more. As if reading my mind, Bakugo lowered his hot mouth onto the bud. He sucked him tenderly, moving his head up and down as he went. I brought my finger to my head and dug them into his hair. My moans filled the room as my body shook with anticipation. His thick fingers inched down my navel and into my waist band. He slid them under my panties and over my sex, before dipping them into my folds.

“I barely even touched you and you are already so wet for me,” he purred, circling my clit slowly. “My Empress, you are so easy to please.”

“Please stop toying with me,” I groaned, moving my hips against his hand. “It’s been so long since I. . . and John wasn’t all that good at it anyway.”

He grimaced at the name. “Let’s not even mention his name.” Bakugo’s fingers slid further down my womanhood and gently pushed into my entrance. “We’ll deal with him at a later time. Let’s just focus on this. Me toying with this tight, sticky pussy of yours.”

He pushed his fingers even deeper and pressed the pads on the roof of my cunt. I gasped loudly and took hold of his robe. Curses spilled from my lips as his digits pumped in and out of me at a beautiful speed. His fingertips were gently massaging my growing g-spot and my walls continued to ooze as a result. Another one of his hands dipped into the waistband. His index and middle finger rested on either side of my clit, while his thumb gently stroked it. Pleasurable sensations were erupting all over my body. My hips were moving on their own, constantly rubbing against his hands, wanting to feel everything. I could feel the pleasure build in the pit of my stomach. My walls started to clench his walls for longer periods the more he fingered my cunt. Suddenly, without warning, Bakugo added a third finger to the mix. Pushing into my slick hole and making me squeal in surprise. There was an interesting burn erupting within my walls.

I pulled on his robe once again, forcing his lips onto mine. Our tongues twirled and danced in each other’s mouths. Eventually, they even fought for dominance. It was then that I felt his fingers move even faster, practically hammering my g-spot. The sheer force of his thrusts moved my lower half on the bed. My hands fell from his robe and my face turned away from his. Deep, throaty pants escaped my throat as the orgasm made a swift appearance. My legs began to tremble as my thighs clenched Bakugo’s hands. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as my mouth formed a massive 'o' shape. Liquid shot from my tender center and sprayed all over the silk sheets. 

"Oh…. Fuuuuuck….." I slurred, grinding my hips on his digits.

The emperor maintained his treacherous movements, making the peak last even longer. He didn't stop until my body stopped shaking against his arms. But, by then, my slick coated his palms and was creating quite the wet spot underneath my ass. He slipped his fingers out. They wrinkled from the activity— my juices were stringy around the digits and made them rather sticky.

The emperor smiled. "I can already tell that pussy is gonna be the death of me," he said, slipping the fingers into his mouth. He moaned at the taste. "You even taste sweet."

I allowed my back to crash against the bed and kept my eyes trained on the ceiling as I caught my breath. "Holy shit," I said in disbelief. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard before."

His hot mouth pressed hot kisses against my breasts, up my neck, and finally to my lips. He fondled my nipple as his tongue explored my mouth for the millionth time tonight. When he pulled away, Emperor Bakugo had a shit-eating grin on his face. 

"Don't get too comfortable," he chirped.

With a snap of his finger, the remaining clothes on our bodies vanished into thin air. Leaving us both stark naked. And, just like his arms, Bakugo had two members. Both are thick, girthy, and rippled with veins. They were approximately the size of my forearm. Pre-cum made their tips bright and shiny.  The longer I looked at them, the more I wanted to touch them. Taste them. Fill my cunt with them. Surely, I wasn’t prepared to take them both at the same time. Anal was something I truly never tried and didn't feel the need to. However, I was pretty sure there were positions to accommodate both members.

"We are just getting started."

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a/n: The full scene is posted on my Ko-fi page. This piece was literally seventeen pages, single-spaced. Meaning it was 13k words in total. Only y'all can get this outta me because I would have NEVER done this for myself lol

Lemme know if y'all like longer fics versus the standard (which is about three 2k-3k).

Vote for the next piece by commenting on this post, Ko-Fi, or you could send me a pm /ask!

We have:

Dhampir(Half Vampire/Half Human) Shoto x Reader----> y/n finds his coffin in her new house (roommate au)

BullHydrid!AllSmite x Reader---> She inherits a farm from her family and All Smite is the mean/rude farm hand (enemies to lovers)

Ghost!Aizawa x reader---> a long-haired ghost lives in y/n's closet and occasionally steals the pillows off her bed.

pls pls pls comment! I love to hear your thoughts and feedback. And lemme know if y'all want a part two!

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Taglist: @cosmicdoechii @carnationsinjanuary @pluisje1402 @turtleducker @fleursthecure @isabel6196 @zoowemamasblog @143ig @qtbxnnykd @pinkwiggthicass @intensitylikesbees @queenotaku27 @cathwritestragediesnotsins @mianeko @ingids @scar3dspid3r @jujuwitchsstuff @bakuhoe-x @unknownforknotsuwn @tsunami-of-emotions @agnl2000 @cherriesdemure @eijiandkatspebble @idkwhatiamdoing048 @princesslina17 @uvula6927 @raina190 @misakik28 @bitchubby @obsessed-tyrant @kingsheir @lonerovo @loveupeople @levislifeline @missrize24 @chubbygrimpanda20 @caffytaffy

#bakugou smut #bnha bakugou #bakugou headcanons #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #chubby!reader #plus size reader #black reader #chubby reader #mha #bnha #mha bakugou #mha imagines #mha fanfiction #mha deku #mha smut #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #rivals to lovers #rivals to friends #my hero academia x you #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero imagines #boku no academia #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero academia #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugō

[vinetae]

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Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

Pairings: College Professor!Jimin x Student!Reader

Warnings: Angst. Sexual content, foul language, 18+ Confessions, vaginal fingering, (f.) masturbation, voyeurism, dom!Jimin, exabitionist themes, protective!Jimin. MENTIONS OF UNDERAGE RELATIONSHIPS.

Don't do that, yall. Ew.

Summary: You had asked your Psych professor for his signature in signing off your volunteer hours. Only a few weeks later, you two are caught at the same club.

Strip club to be exact.

Where you work, to be exact.

A/n: It's cheesy and late, but it's MINE. and I love these two.

And yes my baby fever peeped through at the end but we won't talk about that- 0_0

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Find my main masterlist here

Find part 1 - here

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“Okay..” You take in a deep breath, eyes flashing back and forth between the two options set out for you. Your hands graze over the black, a-line dress, watching as its silky fabric slips between your fingers. The material reminded you of a beautiful ocean. 

But that’s not the reason you bought it. 

It was half off at a thrift store. 

Well, because the fabrics were half off as well. 

Safe to say that the dress was in shambles. Actually, it took more money to repair it than just buying a new one. 

But you loved that dress. 

So, you kept working at it. 

Stitching every seam, heming every end, and flattening each piece until it had been perfected. 

Soon, you had the most beautifully hand-stitched (halfway) A-line dress to call your own. You’d used a little bit more saved money to really make the piece pop. 

You chuckle at the irony, throwing the other dress back into your closet. “Why am I even debating this?” 

Your arms slip through the sleeves, watching as the glittery clear sleeves hug your forearms beautifully. The sweetheart neckline dropped to your shoulders, giving more hints to your prominent features rather than to conceal them in heaps of cloth.

Of course, black was a little too…

“Ugh, basic.” You groan, throwing the dress into the hamper near your chair. Your eyes scan your messy dorm, looking for anything that could be more appropriate. After a few minutes of looking, shoving and -quite frankly, a few breakdowns- you’d finally seen the perfect outfit. 

______________________________________________________________

Music calmly strings in the background, as overly-dressed students and faculty members had flooded the large ballroom. Well, it wasn’t a ballroom to be exact. 

But it felt like something you’d see in a Disney movie, that’s for sure. 

You inhale quickly, before taking the ticket from the handler. You flash a quick smile before making your way through the crowd. Your eyes landed upon what had seemed like millions of name brands. Some Armani suits, Gucci ties and loafers, Louis Vuitton bags, and some names that looked too expensive to even try and pronounce. 

Your Walmart purchased cheap heels clack against the marbled floors, trying to make your way through the large crowds of the Rockefellers.

You’re just about through the swarm of rich bees before your body crashes into a tall figure. You groan, picking yourself off the floor, taking a glance up. Her powered and proper face had been oozing with anger and mascara. 

“Are you kidding me right now!?” Her hands swipes out to examine her dress. The purple and deep-cut mermaid figure had been ruined by a huge, red wine stain in the front. You quickly stand, bowing deeply, muttering millions of apologies. 

“I-I’m so sorry, ma’am-” She laughs out, a malicious look plastered on her Botoxed features. “You’re s-s-sorry?” Her laugh is high-pitched and loud. The commotion had called over a few other viewers to watch the scene. Your hands come to wipe your own dress, thankful that not much had spilled on it. 

“This was Dolce and Gabbana, you little shit! How are you gonna pay for it, huh?” 

Her voice sends shivers down your spine. Once you’re finally off the floor, you take a look at the mess. 

“It’s a dark dress…I’m sure you could just take a sharpie and-” Her banshee-like screech attracts more witnesses. 

“Sharpie!? The only thing you need a sharpie for is writing me that check!” Your eyes lift slightly, scanning the room as people crowded around the two of you. Hushed whispers and posh comments used words you didn’t even understand. Her sparkly silver heel taps against the floor, hand extended to you. 

“Well? Where’s my fucking money, huh?” Her eyes were sharp and narrow. The high of her cheekbones had given away that she was not from here.

“I’m waiting.” 

“You’ll be standing there for quite some time, Miss Alachua.” A deep voice cuts through the thick commotion as his hand comes down to pick your body up off the floor the rest of the way. Your eyes flash, taking notice of his gray-ish toned suit. The little yellow handkerchief stood tall in the chest pocket of the suit. Blonde streaks with fading pieces accentuate his whole aura. 

“Jimin.” Her voice softens to a light banter. Anger is still prominent, however. 

He flashes a short but sweet grin towards her, extending his arm to exchange something in hand. 

“Nice to see you too.” He comments, sucking in a tsk at her dress stain. His eyes glance to yours, head shaking from side to side gently. 

“Did you do this, Miss Choi?” He watches your throat swallow a thick lump, trying to respond. 

“It was an accident..” Your hands clasp to the front, embarrassment settling over the whole situation. 

On your end anyways. 

He quicks a smile before clearing his throat, pacing his way over to meet with the woman. “She said it was an accident.” 

Her arms across her chest, heel continuously tapping against the marbled, echoed flooring as she scoffs. “She’s still gonna have to pay for it.” 

Jimin’s eyebrow raises at her tone, as he sets a palm on her shoulder. “Did you pay for it, Miss Alachua?” Her eyes blow wide at the comment. 

He smirks, lowering his voice to where only you two could pick up. “Mmm, that’s the thing about using daddy’s money for your own purposes. So technically, you got his dress messy, isn’t that right?”

Her head slowly falls down, then back up nodding at his sentence. He backs away, clapping. 

“Perfect. Then, I’ll get Miss Choi to transfer the money over to his account.” Her mouth falls open, quickly trying to protest. “But I-” Jimin holds up a hand, silencing her. He reaches over to grab your wrist pulling you from the terror of the crowd. Once you’re in a quiet section of the ball room, you’re quick to tug on his sleeve. 

“Jimin I don-'' He shushes you, pressing a finger to your lips. “I’ve got quite a bit of information on her father.” His eyebrows tease, signaling to you something, but you couldn’t quite catch on. He chuckles, motioning for you to sit down next to him as he lowers his voice. His finger guides your eyes over to the corner, as you both see a couple leaning on the wall of the ball room, hands entwined together as his older body towers hers. 

Your eyes glance back to Jimin’s, watching the smirk on his corned lip. “What are we looking at?It’s just a couple.” 

He chuckles, leaning back against the chair, sipping from his champagne glass. “Just a couple?” You nod, not following his words. He inhales deeply, enjoying the classical music sounding in the background. 

“Yeah, she’s fifteen.” He laughs at your wide-eyed expression. His lips wrap around the glass’s rim, fogging the clear set with his warm breath. 

“Still ‘just a couple’?” He teases as you hit his side. His eyes narrow at your action. “Watch it, missy.” 

“Yeah? Why should I?” His eyes said one thing, but his tone said another. His finger lifts from the glass, pointing around to the room. “I’m your teacher right now.” He watches your eyes roll back at his words. 

“Oh really?” Your hips rise from the lowered sofa, leading the way through a few doorways. Like before, his feet follow in your guidance, like a puppy on an imaginary leash. He watches your heels step out of the exit door’s frame. Your hands run up the curves of your body, watching as his Adam's apple bobs up and down at the motion. Your hair blows in the night’s chilly winds, with little to no one around the two of you. 

Your feet plant themselves right at the entrance outside the building, as they keep themselves on the marbled floor’s inside. “What are you doing..” His voice lowers, eyes glancing around to take notice of no one’s presence. 

Your hands lift up to pull the hem of your off-shoulder neckline down, revealing the top of one of your breasts. His jaw tightens at the sight. 

“Y/n..” 

Your smirk edges him on. “It’s Miss Choi, Mister Park.” 

Your back hits the brick wall, finger trailing down the plains of your body to toy with your hemmed skirt. You lift the fabric up a bit, revealing a slimmer of your black laced underwear. His voice thickens at the sight, hands fisting at his sides. 

“Y/n.” The tone is commanding, yet you still toy on. 

“What? You’re my teacher, Mister Park.” His throat lets out a slight groan, chuckling at the irony of it all. “This is fucked up, Y/n.” 

Your lips curl into an innocent smile as you lift the option of your leg up, revealing more of your underwear’s thin fabric. “I’m just a student, trying to enjoy a little time to myself..” Your fingers toy with the hem of your panties before dipping in slightly. Your head rolls back against the brick wall, lips parting at the sensation. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/n.” His teeth clench at the sight. Your back arches, lifting away from the wall, your hand stuffed between the fabrics of your laced underwear. Your eyelids lift slightly, taking a glance at him before continuing. 

“Ah, feels so good..” You moan out, free hand scooping more of your puffed tea-length dress to reveal the glorious sight. He watches as your knuckles quickly turn white at the pressure. His voice can finally be heard. 

“Fucking minx.” Your teasing smirk only edges him as his feet step out the door. His body pressed against yours, quick to wrap his palm around your wrist to remove your hands from between your panties. “You wanna this game, baby?” Your arms try to wrap around his neck, but he’s too quick to pull away, not letting you touch him like you wanted. His task sends shivers up your spine. 

“My rules.” 

His hand grips yours, pulling you from the wall to lead you to the parking lot. His hand pulls from his pocket, clicking the unlock button on his car shaped fob. 

“T-This is your car?” He smirks, opening the door for you to slip in. 

“Ladies first.” 

Once you’re both settled in, he cranks the car, letting the engine run for a few seconds before pulling out of the parking lot. His hands clasp in the front, trying not to refrain from touching anything. He chuckles at your stiff body, hand coming to rub on the inner of your thigh. Your body straightens at the touch, mouth parting in agony at the feeling. His eyes glance over before removing his hand. You silently groan, breath heaving up and down from the frustration. 

“How much does the school pay you?” You question, looking around to notice the intricate details and emblems designed in the leather. His eyes flash to your movements before focusing back on the road. “Is that any of your concern?” You huff at his answer. 

The car suddenly speeds up, as your body sinks back into the seat. His hand clutches the stick, shifting gears faster than you could say ‘peanut butter’.

Soon, your body is following the curves of the road as your body is jerked around from left to right, as his body is completely still through all of the roller coaster turns. 

“Jesus, Jimin!” You yelp, gripping onto the handle on the door’s side. He chuckles, as the car comes to a sharp yet smooth stop. If you’d been breathing heavily earlier, you were possibly having a heart attack right about now!’

His seatbelt clicks undone, as he reaches over to undone yours. Once you’ve gotten your land legs, he helps you steady yourself in your seat. Your hair is a mess, and your dress is riding up your thighs. He takes notice of the exposed skin, smirking. 

“So, you like?” He asks, watching as you try pulling your soul back into your body. He chuckles at your distorted figure, stumbling to grip onto reality. 

“F-fucking fast-” You groan out, feeling a little sick from the rush. He nods, waiting patiently for the white to fade from your complexion. 

“Yeah, the first time I test drove it, I almost threw up.” He chuckles, remembering the day that seemed so recent. “I’ve had her for about two years now.” You groan, eyes rolling at his comment. “Her?” 

He nods, laughing at your messied self. “Why? Jealous?~” He teases, poking your cheek. Your head shakes, huffing in annoyance. “Why would I be jealous of a car?” His hand cards through the blonde locks, as a sheet of glimmer rises off his skin. 

“Don’t know.” His elbow rests on the middle console, a teasing innocent look paints his expression. “Why are you jealous of a car?” That makes you scoff. 

‘I’m not jealous of your stupid car.” He faints a pained expression, rubbing the steering wheel gently. “It’s okay baby, she didn’t mean it.” His voice makes you burst out laughing.

“Hey, don’t make fun of Nova.” You watch a simple, child-like expression peak behind his commanding demeanor. You laugh at his demand. “You named her?” 

“Well of course I did. Everybody names their car.” You scoff lightly, taking a peek out the window. The dark knight had disguised the road’s wavy ways. 

Wait.

Waves?

Your head cranes to the side, giving Jimin a certain glance. “Are we at the beach?” 

He nods, pointing out the front window. “You couldn’t tell?” 

“Yeah well I kinda was busy trying to hold down my lunch.” He chuckles before popping the driver door open. A few seconds later, he’s on your side. You watch as the door pops open softly, his hand extends out to offer help. You slide your hand into his palm, as he leads the way down a flight of wooden stairs. 

“Are you avoiding having sex with me?” He pauses at your comment, tilting his head to the side before flashing a quick smirk. “Who said we’re not having sex?” 

That sends butterflies to your stomach.

Your arm wraps around his, as you two walk in sync, head resting on his broad shoulder. He chuckles, swinging your entwined hands together to an imaginary beat only the two of you could hear. 

“This seems like a good spot.” He stops walking, laying the blanket down on the sandy beach as you take a look around, noticing the moon’s reflection shining brightly on the water’s clear surface. His hand reaches up to pull you down, settling you down right next to him. He leans back, arms supporting his body from behind as he takes in a deep breath. 

“I’ve always hated those events anyways.” His head tilts, flashing you a quick smile. You nod, admiring the cute little seashells along the blanket’s hem. You lay flat on your stomach, watching as the sand falls between your fingers as you try to dig for more shells. His soft laugh hatches more butterflies in the pit of your stomach. 

“Have you never seen shells before?” He asks, laying down on his stomach next to you. 

“Never been to the beach really..” You sigh, fixing yourself to prop your head up on your two palms. He smiles, lightly petting the crown of your head. Your loose bun had fallen long ago, right as the party had begun. His fingers trail along the curves of your spine, listening to your breath pitch in tone at his touch. 

“Do you like it?” His voice lowers, soft whispers brush against the shell of your ear. You nod, moaning quietly at the sensation. “Feels good..” You hear his chest let out a sharp chuckle. 

“I meant the beach, sweetie.” You quickly sit up, half-heartedly remembering where you were. You nod. “Yeah.. I do.” He smiles, brushing a few of your strands of hair from vision. You huff, leaning closer to meet his gaze as his hand trails up your outer arm. “You drag shit out too much..” He laughs. 

“I told you, I’m a gentleman.” You groan, scooting closer to his body, toying with the fabric of his tie like before. “But I don’t want a gentleman..” 

“But you need one.” Your eyes widen at the blow. 

“I need one?” He nods, humming. 

“What I mean, is that you’re too good for an asshole like the guys you work for.” You scoff, feeling the way his fingertips graze the dip of your collarbone. “I worked for you.” 

“Mmm, I’m an exception.” 

Your eyes roll at his cockiness. “High and mighty, are we?” He smirks, combating your tease. 

“Horny and impatient, are we?” You punch his arm lightly, making a few laughs escape from his chest. 

“I’m only still horny because you haven’t fucked me.” He shakes his head, laughing as he caresses your cute, chubby cheeks. 

“You don’t get the whole point of this, do you?” Your head shakes, as he sighs. “And you’re trying to get a psych degree? Psh.” You huff, crossing your arms at his comment. He smiles, leaning closer to your face, lips brushing the pads of your gently as he continues.

“You’re too impatient.” 

“I am.” 

He lets out a short chuckle, laying back on the blanket. Arms slipped under his head to support it. His breath is calmed and controlled. Opposite of yours. 

“Just enjoy this.” He sighs, taking in a deep breath of the salty air, closing his eyes softly. 

“I didn’t come all the way here to enjoy the pretty view.” His eyes peak open as a smirk presses his lips. “Really? Cause I did.” You’re quick to catch onto the little tease, making your cheeks flush red. Luckily, he couldn’t see the tint that well from lack of lighting. You groan, lightly hitting his chest against as he lets out a fake pained cough. 

“Owch.” He smirks, pulling you down to his level. You huff before throwing your leg over to straddle his lap. His eyebrows quirk at the sight. Hands come to toy with your hips, steadying you on his lower torso. “Alright, you’ve been your little gentleman long enough.” He lets out a breathy laugh, eyes creasing at the joint. 

“That’s not really your decision, now is it?” Your hips roll against his, yet you feel no sign of-

Anything. 

Groaning you roll off of his lap, sitting next to his sprawled out body. “Why don’t you wanna fuck me?!” He sighs, rising up to plant his hands behind his torso to prop himself up. 

“You’re right. I don’t want to fuck you.” You felt tears welling in your eyes. Your arm comes to hit him once more before sobs start leaving your lips. 

“Am I not pretty enough!? What! Do you like older women!? Huh! Tell me, fucking asshole!” His hands catch your wrists, stopping you from hitting him anymore. 

“Baby calm down.” His voice softens, as his arms wrap around your frame, holding you close to his body. Your eyes well with tears, a few slipping down from your cheeks as your struggles and throws start to become soft nudges instead. His hand guides your chin to meet his softened gaze. 

“You done now?” You sniff harshly, nodding. His smile makes you wanna knock his porcelain front white teeth out. 

“I’ve said it before. I don’t want to fuck you.” You push him away from your body, releasing yourself from his arms. “Then why not just take me home, huh? I’m don-” 

“Sweetheart, I want to make love to you.” Your eyes start to clear, now staring into his. “W..What?” His warm smile pulls you back in as he wraps you into his embrace once more. You’re slotted between his thighs, leaning back on his chest as his chin props itself on the crown of your head. 

“I wanna hold you like this..” He leans his head down, pressing his plush lips to your reddened cheek. “And kiss you like this..” you sniff, giggling at his cheesiness. You twist your torso to meet his gaze. 

“You don’t hate me..?” He chuckles, pecking your lips softly. “Why would I hate you?” You shrug gently, turning your attention back to the waves crashing upon the shore. 

You hadn’t really had a moment like this. You’d lost your virginity back in high school to one of the quarterbacks as a dare, and after graduation, you never really dated anymore after that. Only a few sleepovers that ended with the morning after pill. 

“I don’t want to just have sex with you, Y/n.” He coos, thumbing the tears from your stained cheeks. “I want stuff like this.” Your head leans back some more to nuzzle his chest. 

“I wanna wake you up with breakfast on the weekends.. And stay in bed all day, just cuddling like this.” Now, tears have been slipping from your ducts for a different reason. 

“How long..?” Your rosy cheeks burn with intensity as his hand comes to caress your softened jawline. 

“What do you mean?” His voice soothes the ache in your flushed face. Plump and soft lips brush the side of your ear, pressing a gentle kiss as you feel the rolls of his warm breath graze your heated skin. 

“How long have you.. You know..” He chuckles softly, pulling you head to tuck it under his chin. Your ear presses against his chest, hearing his calmed and patterned beating heart. The ocean’s salty taste leaves a bittersweet sting in your nose. Seagulls and other little creatures fill the silence, along with rolls of the waves crashing upon the drawn shores. 

His eyes narrow yours as a breath rolls from his lips. “Does it really matter?” 

You let out a soft giggle, snuggling closer to his warmth. His heartbeat matches the same patterns as yours, syncing with a light feeling. A brisk and colorful tone breaks your silence. 

“Y/n..” 

Your eyes glance up, meeting his own. His irises reflect the moon’s rays, similar to the ocean’s own surface. Specks of gold and white hues float behind his eyes. The once one-colored cast had been illuminated, showing millions of broken fragments. His nose scrunches at your rosy cheeks, nuzzling the tip into your neck. He sends you into a fit of giggles, as you hear the light sound of rhythm flowing through the atmosphere. 

“What’s that?” You question, head peeking up from curiosity. He shrugs before pointing over the horizon. “Look.” 

Your eyes squint, noticing a small, floating speck on the distant waters. The red and white colors clear as you notice the shape of a boat being formed. 

“It’s the ferry..” You observe, watching as the miniature piece floats by the two of you. He smiles, nodding. A few minutes go by before he comments. “Do you wanna go on a cruise?” 

“Huh?” Your head twists around, laughing at the idea. 

He smiles, shaking his head to pull you right back down into the safety of his arms. “Not right now. I mean, would you like to one day?” You hesitate, before nodding quietly. 

“My dad wanted to buy a boat..” You sigh calmly, entwining your fingers to play with his. His baby-like breaths make your heart swell. 

“Me too. It’d be nice, you know?” He leans back until you’re both almost completely on your backs, you still being tucked snuggly between his legs. 

“Really? What’d you name it?” You spin around, flashing your glassy eyes up to look at him. He giggles slightly, a red tint peaking through on his cheeks. 

“I don’t know. Don’t even know if I even want a boat yet. It was just an idea.” You hum, feeling the way his chest rises and falls with each breath he takes. Your lips ghost his own, arms coming to coil around the base of his neck. Your leg is now positioned over his waist, but no longer emitting the eager and rushed spirit you’d onced forced. 

This had felt calm and-

“Patient.” Your lips fall open at the realization. A smile paints his lips. 

“You’ve finally got it.” Your lips tug into a grin at the word, testing it more on your tongue a few more times. He laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist to steady yourself on his lap. 

Your voice lowers, whispering into the shell of his ear. “I’m still kind of horny though..” He chuckles, reaching down to grip your thighs to pull you more up onto his body. 

“Mmm, wanna fuck?” He asks, feeling the way your hips shift over his. Your head shakes. 

“Nope.” 

“No?” 

Your lips ghost his jawline, hands coming to tug at the button on his white formal shirt. You could feel the way his heart paces at your touch. A sheet of sweat barely visible on the surface of his skin. 

“Touch me.” His chest rumbles as a low groan rolls from his lips. Your hands lower to bring his palms up to the round of your clothed breasts, guiding his hands to knead at the plush skin. 

“Oh fuck..” He groans out, palming at the soft mound while your hand slips into the fabric of his trousers. Hand brushing along the outline of his hardening cock, slipping between the two fabrics to wrap your hand around the base. He groans, lips sucking on the thin sheet of skin on the side of your neck. Blue and purple splotches bruise around the sensitive skin. 

His hand comes down to trail the soft of your tummy, following the invisible line that draws to your center. His fingers mimic yours, slipping between the fabric of your thin laced panties. You moan out, immediately lifting your hips for him to easily remove them. He chuckles, keeping his touch right above your pubic line. 

“So needy.” He spits, flipping the two of you over. He hovers over your frame, tall and broad shoulders tower your figure as he smirks. Silently, his hand removes yours from between his legs, before lowering further, lifting the skirt of your dress over his head. 

“Jimin what are yo- Oh fuck..” You moan out, feeling the way his tongue presses flat against your sopping core. He chuckles, thumb curling around the thin material, watching as it pops against your skin. 

“You were so quick to try and suck me off, baby.” His head raises up, finger trailing the outside of your clothed panties. “Why?” 

Your head lulls back, hips pushing up to try and feel more of his touch. “Mmm- I wanted to make you feel good..” 

He smirks, reaching to the flesh of your thighs, jerking you down to meet his leveled face. 

“Mmm, I’d much rather do this.” His fingertip trails the outside of your panties before pulling them down with his set of teeth. You moan at the sight, head rolling in a circle from the excitement. 

You feel a sharp point graze the inner of your thighs, his lips press flush to your skin, sucking some more splotches into the thick of your skin. Your hand reaches down, carding through his sandy blonde locks, mouth falling open at the sensation. 

“Jimin please-” You whine. His head lifts up, a smirk plastering his features. 

“Who?” You groan at his cockiness. You sit up, not really knowing what he wants. 

“Daddy?” You try the word on your lips, internally cringing. He chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Not quite. Try again, baby girl.” You huff, scooting further down for his breath to roll onto the surface of your tummy. 

“Master?” He shakes his head. He makes a loud buzzer sound, giggling at the joke. “Wrong.” 

“What the fuck Jimin.” Your eyes roll at his childness. 

“Come on, Y/n. You know it.” He teases, lowering his lips just to graze the outside of your sopping core. His finger cards through your slick folds, bringing the tip up to suck between his lips. His eyes flash to yours, waiting. 

“Uhm..” You glance around, trying to think of something else to call him. 

“Sir?” He smirks, flattening his tongue to your clit. You whine out, squeezing his head gently between your thighs. Your head lulls back, gripping at his roots for support. 

His head lifts for a second to slot his middle and ring finger into the space of his mouth, sucking on them slightly before inserting them into your sopping core. You moan out, chest heaving heavily as his fingers pump in and out at a slow pace. 

“S-Sir! Oh- Fuck Ji-Jimin- Fuck!” You could feel his lips form into a smirk against your clit, sucking gently onto the throbbing bud. Your head falls back into the soft, comfy blanket. Your back arches off the ground just to fall right back down from his edging tease. 

“Ji- sir please.” You whine, watching as his head lifts up. A trail of saliva connects from his lips to your core. 

“Magic word?” He teases, flashing you a cheeky grin. You growl from frustration, pulling his body up from the ground, rolling over until you’re straddling his lap. Your eyes narrowing into his. 

“You know what? My turn.” 

You’re quick to lean down, crashing your lips against his. Mimicking the waves colliding into the shore. Swallowing the water’s contents whole. His chest heaves a deep groan, vibrating against the passion of your mouth. Which in turn, had made you moan just as loud. 

Your hand reaches down past the hem of his boxers, wrapping the base of his cock with palm. His head falls back, hands coming to pull your sleeves from off the shoulder to completely off the shoulder. His warm palms cup the rounds of your breasts, thumbing over the erect of your protruding buds. 

“Y/n I- Oh fuck.” He groans, cock twitching in your grip. You smirk, free hand softly tracing the sharp of his jawline. You tug at the hem of his button up. 

“Off.” He chuckles, making quick work of his buttoned shirt. He throws it onto the sand somewhere, watching as your eyes trail along the plains of his chiseled chest. 

“Don’t drool on me.” He teases, closing your mouth while chuckling at your reddened cheeks. 

“S..Shut up.” He laughs, leaning back in a more relaxed position. 

“Wanna switch?” 

“No.” You gripe, trying to assess what to do next. 

He chuckles, watching your face contort with focus. “You sure?” 

After a few seconds, you groan, rolling off of his body. 

“Fuck me, will you?” 

“Y-”

“If you don’t fuck me right now I will walk myself all the way back to the dorms.” He chuckles, gripping onto your thighs before flipping the two of you over. 

“Ironic, seeing how we crossed a bridge to get here.” Your eyes roll back, as he pulls the rest of your dress’s fabric down, making sure not to mess with any of the seams. You glance down, raising any eyebrow. 

“Don’t wanna rip it off?” He shakes his head. 

“If it was Gucci then maybe.” He smiles, folding the piece of fabric next to his thrown button down. 

“But it’s not.. It’s less expensive.” His hands reach around, pulling your body flush against his. 

“Not to you.” Your face tints at his words, as he continues his explanation, and undresses the both of you. 

“Didn’t you make it?” You nod. “How’d you remember?” 

His hands pull the last bit of fabric of your strapless bra down, watching as your breasts bounce from the sudden revealment. 

“You said you sewed.” Your head nods slowly, as you watch his fingers tug the hem of his boxer-briefs to circle his knees. 

“Says that so casually while unsheathing himself.” You chuckle, watching the interesting. His eyes glance up, narrowing towards you through his fallen blonde locks. 

“Unsheathed? What are you, an English major?” He laughs, reaching over into his trousers to pull a tiny foil packet from the pocket. 

“Was. Changed my major last minute.” He hums, quirking an eyebrow to you. “Really? Why?” 

You shrug, laying flat on the soft blanket. “Didn’t think it would pay enough. Gotta make a living somehow, right?” He chuckled, nodding before slotting his figure right between your parted legs. 

“Sounded like shakespeare to me.” He teases before hovering over your frame. You smile, lifting your head to lock lips with his. He pulls away, giving you a quick look over before continuing. 

“Ready?” You laugh, nodding. “Thou shall penetrate thy self with thine phyllu- Oh fuck!” 

He lets out a fit of laughs, slowly pushing past your velvet walls. “You’re gross.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your temple before slowly rolling his hips. Your teases are quick to cease, being replaced with a string of moans. His laughs fade to more of the same, as your legs wrap around his waist, hips rising to meet his own slow thrusts. 

“Oh fuck- shit oh my God, Jimin!” He groans, hip starting to pace faster. “Oh fuck baby-” His head falls to your side, supporting itself on your shoulder as his hands grip onto both sides of your hips to steady you. 

“Mmm baby sounds good.” You tease, feeling his lips nipping at the blotchy and bruised skin of your neck. He groans,  one of his hands coming up to knead your breast with his palm. 

“You’re not getting a baby.” He chuckles, harsh groans rolling from his lips. You fake a frown, flipping the two of you over so that you’re straddling his lap. He scoffs softly, watching your hips rise before snapping down. Hands come to steady both sides of your waist, bodies flush with one another’s. 

“Mmmm you’re getting kinda old, sir. Don’t you wanna- fuck- ..c-carry on your line?” He chuckles at the thought, leaning up to capture your lips in a passionate exchange. 

“Not right now.” He growls, taking one of your erect buds into the cavity of his mouth, lips wrapping around your hardened nipple. Your arms wrap around his head, body being thrown backwards slightly at the sensation. Your lips part, letting a few little words slip. 

“I love you!”

_____________________________________________________________

Oooooo cliff hanger. Hehe.

Alot of people seem to think my one shots are SERIES I'm starting but guys like- you can ask for drabble of my stuff but- I'm already swimming in unfinished series I had started a LONG TIME ago.

Example: Full Circle, Friendly Favor, Love me Leave me, Snow Drops, etc.

So uhm- thank you for all of the requests but these are not going to continue as series. You can request drabbles and ask questions about the characters but other than that, I leave my one shots alone.

This one was a little bit harder to end, so I just left it on a cliff hanger. (Kinda one of those things you can imagine your own ending if you want.)

If you'd like to me finish this, comment or send me a submission <33

Thank You!

______________________________________________________________

©vinntaege 2023. I do not condone any translations, copies, modifications, or

repostings anywhere for ANY of my works.

#bts jimin series #bts jimin smut #bts jimin fanfic #bts jimin ff #bts jimin fic #bts jimin #jimin fanfics #jimin drabbles #bts #pjm #bts fics #park jimin #bts masterlist #park jimin smuts #jimin fluff #park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin x y/n

[blackjackkent]

Somehow unsurprisingly, while the rest of Waukeen's Rest burns to the ground, Rugen's Zhentarim hideout is alive and well.

"Doesn't look like much," Hector comments dismissively as they walk inside. Indeed, it's a storehouse full of a lot of wine casks and not too much else...besides this fellow:

Narrator: You spot a man crouching between the shelves - just as he spots you.

Recite Rugan's passphrase - 'Little serpent, long shadow.'

Immediately the man's prepared spell dissipates, and he stands up with a look of relief. As they draw closer, Hector can see his face more clearly - he's hardly more than a boy, twenty at the most, and there's a visible air of fear leaving his expression.

"Gah, Helm's orbs. Thought you were Flaming Fist. Down you go, then. They'll be on us soon, so if you're looking to trade, you'd best be quick."

He gives Hector the key to a hidden doorway down into the cellar.

To be honest, Hector isn't overly enthused about this situation. He hates lying and these are people who thrive on it. But he has Rugan's blessing; if he hopes for anything here, it's maybe a little intel or supplies and then to leave again as soon as possible.

Interestingly, we don't get a waypoint in Waukeen's Rest (at least not that I saw) but we do get one in the Zhent hideout. So that kind of makes this a worthwhile jaunt all on its own.

This lady is named Zarys and she seems to be the one in charge. Definitely a tough cookie, and not super thrilled with Rugan for telling us the hideout location, even though we helped him. But she did give us money for it all the same and allowed us to trade with her folks - for now. "This place is likely to be rubble soon."

"Rubble? What are you planning to do?"

"Someone kidnapped a duke - right on our bloody doorstep. The Flaming Fist will need someone to blame. I don't plan on it being us."

You know what, valid. I kinda like this lady tbh.

She gave us a dope crossbow also in return for helpline the Zhent out.

Going around to talk to everyone else and trade, we find that the group also has a random artist they're keeping as a prisoner and forcing to paint portraits?

"You! Zarys may have welcomed you, but I can see you're not one of her thugs. You need to buy me."

Hector looks at him with some perplexity. "Why are you selling yourself?"

"Selling mys-- I am not some lower city coinlad offering you a tumble! I am an artist! And my patron will reward you for my rescue - tenfold whatever ransom you pay, I guarantee it."

He was pretty tight-lipped about who his patron actually is, but we have coin to burn anyway and Hector's not gonna leave anyone in servitude if he can help it. So he paid off the 1000-gold ransom.

"I can't say I've ever been bought before. How much did I fetch? No...don't tell me. There is nothing so depressing as learning one's true value. Well, you should at least know what you've paid for. I am *the* Oskar Fevras, at your service."

He gives a polite bow. Hector returns it with a nod of his head, smiles brightly, and says, "I've never heard of you!"

"An affliction for which you cannot be faulted, this far from civilization. But my patron will be most grateful for your heroics. My *betrothed*, I should say." He hesitates, shifts uncomfortably. "Assuming Lady Jannath still wishes to marry after our little...falling out."

Narrator: [HISTORY] You recall a recent scandal - a patriar of Baldur's Gate who wished to marry a commoner.

LOL. Here's the 64-dollar question: how the hell does Hector know about this? Who at the monastery was discussing scandals in the Baldurian nobility?

I'm going with - he probably overheard this while doing his trading in the market almost immediately before he was captured by the nautiloid.

"*You're* Lady Jannath's runaway groom?" he asks bemusedly. This isn't the sort of conversation that comes his way very often.

Oskar straightens up defensively. "I did not *run away*. A date was never set. There were...complications. Before my fame, my patron, there was...another woman. One I planned to spend my life with. But when Lady Jannath offered me a future, well...it felt only right to mention my past. Right, but *unwise*. I was forced to retreat into the countryside. To paint, and clear my head. To *choose*, I suppose."

Hector listens to this with a sort of distant fascination. He has been a very solitary man all his life, buried in the life of the monastery, buried in books and prayers and training. He had, perhaps, a few dalliances in his youth - a crush on a local farmer's daughter, maybe, quickly quashed by the elder monks. But beyond that...his life has been his work, his calling to Selune. He has never really known anyone deeply and intensely enough to make such...dramatics seem like a rational idea.

Well, until lately...when he found himself traveling with companions to whom he has been bonded to the deepest recesses of his mind.

He pushes this thought away abruptly. Something to deal with later. "And what choice did you make?" he asks, more for politeness's sake than out of real curiosity.

Oskar's expression goes very distant for a moment. "Oh, absolutely none, of course," he says with rueful sadness. "Fame and wealth suit me very well, no doubt. And yet I think of that first love and I...hesitate." He laughs softly. "Likely I'm going mad. Regardless - we have more immediate concerns, your reward once I've returned to the city, for one." He pauses. "Say...I don't suppose you could spare some coin, could you? Ease the discomforts of the road some?"

Hector sighs heavily, gives him another 200 gold, and sends him on his way. He's been given a lot to think about.

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #heyyyyy some unexpected character development for hector :D #let's goooo #i can never guess in advance which of these posts is gonna be one with meat in it :P

[briamichellewrites]

9

Bria purchased a 2000 Maserati Quattroporte for herself. The car cost twenty-seven thousand, six hundred ten dollars. It joined her and Brad’s car collection. He already had a few that he drove, while she owned two. They talked about expanding their garage to accommodate their car collection and motorcycles. She finally sold her mother’s house for two million dollars, which was a lot more money than what she bought it for in 1981.

Her stock was rising, leaving her with enough money to last the rest of her life. That included the sale of her father’s apartment in Cannes. They were interested in buying a house in the south of France someday. Maybe even Italy. Brad loved the country for its wine. She kept her father’s private plane because it was useful. He mentioned buying a yacht.

She decided to leave that up to him because she knew nothing about yachts. If he bought one, he would have to use his money, not hers. Linda agreed that was a smart decision. It was just in case it turned out to be a bad investment. He had no problem with that and he agreed to do more research. While talking with Mike and Brad, she learned the trouble they were having with their record label, Warner Music. They wanted to fire Mike, but Chester stood up for him by telling them to go fuck themselves.

It was an incredibly risky thing to say because it could have cost them everything. They were thinking about starting their own label company, so they could have more freedom. She offered to invest ten percent in their company. They thanked her. It wasn’t set in stone yet, as it was just an idea. She asked them to let her know when or if they were going to do it. They promised they would.

The band was blown away by her offer. She didn’t have to invest anything. They thought ten percent was fair because they weren’t expecting anything. It let them know how much she believed in their careers. She believed in them more than their label did. Their struggles with Warner Music brought them closer together as brothers and as a band. Chester was having a hard time. He broke down in tears during a recording session.

They learned that he had been sexually abused as a child while going through his parent’s divorce. They also learned he struggled with depression from being bullied in school. It made them see the sadness inside of him. He wasn’t just singing about mental illness, he was living it.

Bria sometimes dropped by the studio with Tiny to give them a kitten break. She loved the attention and pets they gave her. Hi, humans! She nibbled on Rob’s finger after he offered it to her. Yum. He tasted like a human. Bria took great care of her. They could tell she was spoiled with love and attention. She was gradually getting bigger with her healthy diet.

At four months old, she was used to being the center of attention. Her favorite human was Brad and he loved her in return. He carried her around the house. She met his parents when they stopped by to see the new place. They watched her play in the living room while they talked with Brad and Bria. She was an active little kitten. Her baby teeth had fallen out and she was getting her adult teeth. That meant a lot of chewing. Bria bought her a baby chew toy.

She loved playing with it because it made a crinkly sound. Her vet scheduled her to be spayed to prevent problems. She didn’t know what that was but it didn’t sound pleasant.

Brad was caught between his mother and his girlfriend. She didn’t appreciate her telling him what he could or could not spend his money on. Bria did everything she could to explain what she meant. He told her to let him deal with his mother because he knew her the best. She explained the situation to Mike and Phoenix when she stopped by. They had her start from the beginning.

“Brad came to me and said he was looking into buying a yacht. He wasn’t asking my permission. Rather, he was just starting a conversation. I told him that if he wanted to buy a yacht, he would have to use his own money in case it was a bad investment.”

“Well, yeah. Yachts are expensive. What did he say”, Phoenix asked.

“He didn’t have a problem with that because it made sense. I was leaving it up to him. His mother, Jane got offended because she thought I was controlling what he could and couldn’t buy. He knew that he didn’t need my permission and that he wasn’t asking for it.”

They didn’t see it as her being controlling. She was setting a boundary for him. That’s what she thought but she never had to deal with that kind of situation before. So, she wasn’t one hundred percent sure. Mike told her to let him talk to her. She was going to do that. He could buy whatever he wanted. As long as he didn’t spend all of his money.

Jane apologized for overstepping. She should have left the yacht up to her and Brad. Bria thanked her for her apology and forgave her. Brad appreciated her apologizing. He made it very clear to her that he intended to marry Bria. All he wanted was for her to respect that. Neither Jane nor William had any idea he was that serious about her. They knew she was a serious girlfriend, but they didn’t know they were talking about getting married.

Yeah, they were. They wanted to get married in the future. That was why he had them meet her. Okay, they would do better. He thanked them. To be fair, Bria was trying her hardest to get them to accept her. She didn’t have any family left, so she wanted to make a good impression on them.

Short but sweet. Brad talked to his parents and his mother apologized to me for overstepping. I’m seriously going to keep this guy forever! – Bria

At nineteen, she wasn’t ready to get married. They decided to wait another year to get engaged. He knew that she was going to be the woman he spent the rest of his life with. It didn’t matter what anyone said. She called him handsome and fine wine whenever he didn’t like the way his body was getting older. He loved hearing that. Turning forty was going to be difficult. It reminded him that he would never be young again. Ever since Thelma and Louise, people commented on his appearance.

He didn’t like the attention because he didn’t see himself as anything but ordinary. It was all superficial. The only person he wanted to comment on his appearance was her because it felt more personal. Nineteen. He could only wish for a woman like her at nineteen. They were going to try to get pregnant in a year. He couldn’t wait to become a father! She was going to be a great mom!

“I don’t think Tyler Durden would fucking care if someone didn’t like him.”

He laughed. “He would not care. You’re right about that. Have you seen that movie?”

“No, but I should sometimes. Maybe I can get Mike, Phoenix, and Chester to watch it with me. I’m sure Chester would love that!”

“Well, let me know what you think when you decide to watch it. Just do it when I’m not here, so I don’t have to see it.”

She promised she would. He jokingly asked her what the first rule of Fight Club was. She answered the number one rule was you don’t talk about Fight Club. He laughed. She joked she was the product of the internet. He laughed before feeling Tiny rub up against his leg. Hi, human! He bent over and picked her up. She purred loudly in happiness, as laid in his arms.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia

[momolady]

The Mask He Wore: Part One

A woman gets a job within the Prowd Home, a famously large and mysterious mansion in the country. There she's commanded by her boss to follow certain rules, one of which is to never ascend the stairs, and another is to never talk to the man of the house.

(Warning: Contains dark themes and elements)

Female Main Character x Male Monster (both cis)

I was hired onto the Prowd staff when I was very young. Lady Blythe had taken me in despite my youth and gave me both employment as well as a roof over my head. For that I will be forever grateful. The only thing that bothers me about my job is that, aside from Lady Blythe, I’ve never really seen my employer.

Mr. Prowd bought this place a long time ago and revived the vineyard to where it became a very thriving winery like it had been once before. He had guests and customers coming all the time to sample his wine and buy it from the source. But I had barely ever captured a glance at him, aside from once when I saw him on the third floor landing with Lady Blythe. But even then, I only saw his legs.

Long ago, the previous owners of the vineyard had killed themselves here in the manor. I had heard many stories about how there were notches in the bannister on the third floor. The stories started back when the drought was at its peak. Robbers would come into the house, and they would claim two skeletons hung from the banister on the third floor. The stories started there, only growing over time.

The staff now told stories of how the manor was haunted. Some told about ghostly visions they saw in the halls. I had lived here since I was small, and I had not ever seen anything strange. At least, nothing I could place. Once, I saw a man who was sitting on the stairs. He had his head in his hands. His clothes looked disheveled and it sounded as though he was weeping. There was such sadness surrounding him, a gloom and darkness that sucked inwards like a vortex. The stairs around him appeared to be darker, and a cold chill crept up my spine. He was as still as a statue, but from behind his hands I could see his mouth contort, and his eyes crinkle from crying. I had never seen someone so sad before, and I Ifelt the need to reach out to him. I was told not to bother guests though, so I walked past him. I never saw him again.

Such stories of the notches on the third floor banister, and the sighting of the supposed ghosts were popular subjects amongst the staff. During the evening, when too much drink had been had, I could hear many a braying tale.

“I say you go up there and prove it,” one huffed. “ I’m sick of hearing about it. Go see the damn notches!”

“You can see them from the ground floor. Just look up. You may even see old man Prowd too!” The other snorted.

“Or up Lady Blythe’s skirt!”

This caused the table of men to burst out laughing. I was not too enthused with it, but their voices were the only ones you could hear and all I wanted to do was finish my meal.

“No one’s allowed on that third floor,” the first one slurred. “Bet if you went up there you’d see old man Prowd with his cock out.”

The groans and jeers echoed my own thoughts.

“I heard he and Lady Blythe take their guests up there for all sorts of fun and games,” the second babbled on. “You know there are all sorts of perverts amongst the rich.”

“When you got money you can put your cock in anything and no one can say nothing about it!”

I sighed heavily and picked up my plate to the basin. I intended to leave, but as I turned the whole room went quiet as a tomb. Lady Blythe stepped into the kitchen and looked around with a cold look upon her face.

“I came to fetch some water to make some tea.” Her hand smoothed down the door frame as her eyes cut around the room. “No need to go quiet on my account.” She walked into the room, watching the men at the table as they ducked their heads and averted their eyes. Lady Blythe was an elegant woman, she held herself with such a regality and moved with such elegance. Since I was little, I had always wanted to somehow be like her.

Like us in the staff, she always wore red. The whole house itself was filled with the color. I used to consider it quite garish, almost frightening, but upon Lady Blythe with her pale skin and dark hair, the color felt as if it belonged upon her.

Lady Blythe came up beside me, filling a kettle. A low murmur rose back to the room, but nothing like the roar it was before.

“Let me help you with that, my lady.” I took over pouring the water into the kettle for her, then walked out with her carrying it.

Lady Blythe remained quiet until we reached the end of the hallway where she sighed heavily. “I should have been patient and waited for the morning.” She lifted her hand to her face, touching her cheek then smoothing her elegant fingers down to her jaw. In the darkness of the hallway, she looked ghostly white.

“They’ve been drinking, my lady. I would not take what they say with a grain of salt. Even if it is vile.” I tried to reassure her, but I’m sure it’s difficult to hear the things she did in the kitchen.

“I could shut them up easily if that was the issue,” she tutted. “I know you can no more stop a man from talking than you can an ass from braying. The more you push the issue, the more it will become an issue. It’s best to make them fear the unknown.” She then looked at me with a slight smile upon her face. “Why were you even there, Ms. Ellen?”

I did enjoy her smile, but there was something about it that seemed forced. “I was trying to finish my supper. My chore this evening took much longer than me and the other girls planned, so we arrived late when they had already had a few drinks in them. They usually get that bawdy each night.”

“Perhaps I should start watering down the staff wine,” Lady Blythe murmured. She stalled at the foot of the stairs and held her hand out for the kettle.

I took my chance. “I can take it up for you, my lady, if you’d like?”

Her cool eyes looked me over while her smile faded away. There was a chill in the air, a darkness to her eyes that made me pause with slight fear. Something in her gaze was razor edged, but I knew it was sharpened because of my own doing. She pushed her hand out further to me and I offered the kettle. “You know better, Ms. Ellen.” Her tone was frosty, almost making her breath appear in the air. “Only select staff are allowed beyond the ground floor.”

I nodded while folding my hands together. I kept my head down, a bit ashamed of my behavior. “Yes, I know, my lady.”

Lady Blythe slipped her fingers under my chin and lifted my head. She gave me a smile and I returned it. “There are no notches on the bannister. It was replaced long ago.”

“That was not my reasoning.” My cheeks grew warm from such an intimate touch. “Although, my reasoning was buried in curiosity.”

Her fingers slipped away from mine. Those long elegant digits curled back into her palm and her long nails pressed against her flesh. “There is nothing fascinating about the third floor. It is very much like the staff quarters in the basement, I assure you.” Lady Blythe rose to the first stair. “Go to bed, Ms. Ellen.”

“Good night, my lady.” I walked away, but then stood in a spot where I watched her ascend the stairs. The way the foyer opened up at the ceiling, you could see all the way to the third floor. Above that it was dark, an endless inky black hole. I knew there was a ceiling somewhere up in those shadows, but from where I stood, it felt as though one could get lost forever in such dark.

I saw Lady Blythe walk across the third floor, taking her kettle to her room. Often I watched from this exact spot to catch a glimpse of life up there. But I rarely saw much of anything. The most I saw was that blackness, that void. I would stare up into it, wondering if something was watching me back.

A few days later, Lady Blythe left the manor in order to find new workers for the upcoming harvest. The vineyard had expanded during the winter, and now we needed more hands to bring in the remarkable crop. Lady Blythe often left for long periods of time to bring in new employees to the manor, for the vineyard or otherwise. The house felt rather strange without her presence, some took advantage of it, while others kept on like it was normal.

I found myself alone in the library because of this. The other two who were supposed to help me abandoned their posts, claiming as long as the bottom row of books was dusted, no one noticed if all of them were. I took the opportunity to indulge in the quiet and solitude. Rarely were there moments to be alone here.

I dusted the books, taking as much time as I wanted. I skimmed pages, reading what I could understand or glancing through pictures held within. I was barely paying attention to anything around me. The book I held had pictures inside of bats devouring small animals, of insects ripping off the heads of their mates. There was a gruesome illustration of a mountain lion feasting upon a lamb. The black ink on the page turned red in my eyes. The blood of the lamb seeped from its sagging carcass, running down into the words below the picture. Its frightened face, whether alive or dead, looked out beyond the paper, it stared into me. I gazed back into its wide grotesque eyes, and I worried that I was looking back at myself.

The red I imagined fluttered in the corner of my eye. I looked up in fright, turning to see there was a man standing in the library. At least, I assume it was a man from the way he was dressed, because his head was covered by a red scarf. He looked up at me, staring at me like I had been that poor lamb. His head tilted to the side.

I gasped in fright and dropped the book which slapped against the ground with a loud slap. The air sucked from the room, going quiet as the book settled. The man bent over to pick up the book, which he looked over.

“Be careful,” he said with a deep but tender voice. “Not with the books, but with yourself.” He held the book up the ladder towards me. “It would be much worse if you fell.”

I climbed down a few rungs and took the book back. “I’m so sorry,” I murmured. “I got startled and I just-” I shook my head. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

The man chuckled softly. “No need to apologize. I have that effect on people.”

The scarf was wrapped around his head in such a way it hid his whole face. I could see the movement of his mouth when he spoke, but no other features were present. The excess then wrapped around his neck and draped over his shoulders. The color of it matched the red uniforms we wore day in and day out.

“The manor seems quiet today,” he said simply. He opened the book I had been perusing. His gloved fingers smoothed over the pages, turning them slowly before he closed it again.

I stepped off the ladder and bowed to him. “I was almost done here. I can leave if you want some privacy.”

“You’re working, there’s no reason to be chased off.” He held out a gloved hand to me. “I’m sorry, my dear, but what is your name?”

I was afraid to take his hand. I had no clue who this man was or what he was doing here. I simply bowed my head back down. “It is Ellen.”

“Well hello, Ms. Ellen. I’m Edmund Prowd.”

Every hair on my body stood up on end, bristling and tingling with this revelation. I looked back to where his face would be with held breath. “Mr. Prowd! I am so sorry, I did not know who I was speaking to, sir!”

“Now, now, calm down,” he chuckled. “There’s no reason to get so worked up.” Mr. Prowd approached me and took my hand, which he shook. “If I am being honest, I must say I am relieved. It is so lonely here without Lady Blythe.” His head tilted down and his thumb smoothed over the back of my hand. “What beautiful hands you have.”

I was knocked breathless. “Thank you.” His hand was big and warm, and the glove he wore was so soft. I smiled sheepishly, gently pulling my hand away when he released it. “I’m sure she will be back soon. It will probably be easier to find workers for the vineyard than the manor.”

He gently stroked each finger, carefully looking over the back of my hand and palm.

“I told her to take her time. She rarely gets any time to herself these days.”  Mr. Prowd tilted his head to the side. “You remind me of her, actually.”

I smiled shyly. “Really?”

“Tall and willowy, you even have similar eyes.'' He captured my chin between his fingers and I gladly looked up at him as he turned me. “Yes, you look a lot like her when she first came here. She was such a beauty, and so kind. She never failed to steal my breath.”

I picked at the embroidered flower at the top of my apron. I smiled shyly, drinking in the compliment. “I am not the one to steal breaths.”

“I think you are.” His gentle voice rumbled, causing my heart to leap in attention. “You’re also very beautiful, Ms. Ellen.”

My smile forced itself through and the corners of my mouth curled upwards. “No, no,” I shook my head.

“Yes, yes.” he took my chin again. “You’re a lovely young woman. You have such soft skin, beautiful bright eyes, adorable lips.”

My cheeks were set aflame. I’d not been so taken by words like this in such a long time. “Thank you, Mr. Prowd.”

“Please,” he murmured softly, “call me Edmund.”

“Edmund,” I said his name and it tasted like syrup on my tongue.

He chuckled then motioned towards the sofa in front of the fireplace. “If it is not too much of a bother, would you enjoy sitting with me at the fireplace?”

“I shouldn’t.” I said it, but I did wish to join him. All these years I had worked and lived in his home, yet I had barely seen his shadow. “I should be working.”

Edmund placed his finger where his lips should be. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

I smiled excitedly and joined him on the sofa. He sat beside me and sighed heavily. “I know I ask for this solitude, but when Lady Blythe is gone I actually notice it.” He placed his hand over his chest. “If you don’t mind, just a little company is all I ask.”

“I don’t mind at all.” I looked at the scarf around his head, trying to see through it and see something of the man inside. “Is there a reason you want solitude?”

“It is too much for me to explain,” he sighed. “I have my reasons, but I do not wish to take away your smile with them.”

“You do not need to worry about me. I would love to talk to you about anything, sir-I mean, Edmund.” I blushed and worried if I offended him.

Edmund just laughed. “You and Blythe have much in common. But I do think you are cuter than she is.” He touched my hand upon the sofa. “There is an air about you that relaxes me.”

“Really?” I asked shyly.

“Hold still,” he then whispered with urgency. I did as told and his finger brushed against my cheek. The touch was so soft. “There was an eyelash.”

I watched him, barely able to breathe.

Edmund held his finger out to me. “You get to make a wish.”

I smiled, pursing my lips as I thought of the wish that was growing in my heart. I blew the eyelash away and a chill crept up my spine.

I met him in that library each day while Lady Blythe was away. At first we just talked, or I listened due to my shy nerves. As a few days passed by, I got over that. I would sit closer to Edmund, I would touch him freely.

“Do you mind if I hold you?” He asked.

My heart ran freely in my chest and I gazed up at him, marveled and enraptured. “If you’d like.”

“It’s been so long,” he chuckled nervously. “I know it must be a strange and sudden request. But a hug is all I really need.”

“It’s okay.” I turned to face him and I opened my arms to him. He came closer and I accepted him in, wrapping my arms around him as his enveloped me. “There now, is that better?”

“Yes, thank you,” he breathed. “That feels so much better.”

“I’m glad, Edmund.” I rubbed his back reassuringly and I felt a quickening in my pulse.

When we parted and I went down the hall, I saw someone standing at the other end. Fearing I would be caught, I went the other way. I came into the kitchen which was dark and empty, but if I left through the dining hall I could bypass the hallway. I was nearing the second door when the first opened. Someone came through and I rushed, running out the door and into the dining hall. I hid under the table.

I held my breath as the door opened. The shadowy figure from before stood there as still as a statue. They then moved, walking around the table. Their strides were long and silent. I only heard the dullest thud of their heel as it hit the floor. A chill seeped through the air, aching my fingers the closer it came.

The figure stood at the end of the table for the longest time, long enough that the chill caused my breath to spill white from my lips. Once it felt like eternity had passed, they left. I heard the door shut and I exhaled in relief. I laid my head in my palms and my fingers felt like ice. I started to leave from under the table, slowly pulling myself out. Just as I was on my knees, something grabbed my ankle and pulled me back under.

I screamed in fright as I was pulled into a shadow. The space under the table was much darker than before and I couldn’t see anything. The light from betweens the chairs shone much brighter and I scrambled to try and reach it, all the while the hand pulled me deeper and deeper below. I kicked free, knocking over chairs as I clawed my way out.

I looked back in fright, seeing the table and only the table. There was no darkness, no bright engulfing light. I stared in disbelief and quickly ran, leaving the chairs toppled as I made my way back to my quarters.

The others were already in bed, so I had to be quiet. I took off my clothes and slipped into bed. My heart was still pounding, my skin clammy from fear. I could still feel the pressure of the hand that held my ankle. I closed my eyes, imagining Edmund and his embrace. As I fell into his arms, a hand came down over my mouth.

My eyes flashed open, seeing a man standing over me. He had blonde hair that hung ragged and filthy around his face. The hand that gripped over my mouth was cold and rough and it felt like there was a finger missing. The cold wrapped around me, gripping me tightly so that my blanket was powerless against it.

“Leave. Him. Alone.” The man’s voice was stilted and quiet. He took in deep, raspy breaths and choked on the air. “Do. Not. Return.”

I was paralyzed with fear, unable to move or make a sound. I worried about the other girls in the room with me. I prayed they didn’t wake. I prayed they were even still alive.

“Leave. Him. Alone.” His voice choked like there was something lodged in his throat. “This. Place,” he took a long drawn out breath. “Not. Safe.” He removed his hand and I remained frozen. I didn’t move until morning when the others began to rise. I shivered and shook the rest of the day, jumping at voices that came from behind me.

It wasn’t until I was back with Edmund that I felt as though I could relax. Once again he held me and I felt a mixture of fear and excitement. It bubbled up in my chest then flowed through my body. I knew this was wrong, but I didn’t want to let go of him.

“Ellen,” he murmured close to my ear. “I don’t want to let go of you.”

“Then don’t,” I breathed. “Hold me as long as you need.”

Edmund’s arms tightened. “It’s not right.”

“No one can see us. Keep holding me, Edmund. Please.” I dug my fingers into his back, grasping his jacket while I felt his face bury into the curve of my neck.

“I shouldn't but...Ellen, I need you.”

Those words sang through my body with triumph. “I’m yours, Edmund.”

He sat up and cupped his hand around my mouth. “Be careful what you say. Should you say such words again, I might fall for you even faster than I already have.”

I could cry. This was dangerous, so very dangerous, but I wanted it to happen regardless. I held his wrist and he moved his hand away. “Do you mean it?”

“Yes,” he breathed. Edmund turned and looked around the room before focusing upon me again. I bit back my excitement as he lowered down closer to me. “Blythe will return soon, come to the third floor tonight and wait at the top of the stairs for me.”

My heart was soaring with so much awe and excitement. “Really?” I gasped.

“Yes. But do not move from that spot until I come for you.” His finger smoothed across my lips. “Promise me.”

I nodded. “I promise, Edmund. I promise.”

“You really are precious, Ellen,” he whispered into my ear. “I cannot wait to see you tonight and hold you until my soul is full.”

I wrapped my arms around him again. I went to place my hand upon the back of his head, but he quickly pulled away, taking my hands and kissing the palms and wrists through the scarf. My heart swelled, but I felt I owed him an answer to something heavy in my heart.

“Leave. Him. Alone.” The choked voice rattled in my head and I grew deathly cold again.

“But-” I murmured unsurely.

Edmund lifted his head. “What is it?”

I looked away, feeling doubt grow in my chest. “I have a fear,” I confessed. I clutched my hand over my chest. I wasn’t sure how to put it into words. The man I saw last night, his hand, the unbearable cold. “I care so deeply for Lady Blythe, I owe her my life.”

“I owe her mine as well,” Edmund stroked his finger down my cheek. “But I cannot deny my desire for you. It is a need I wish I could forget, but it gnaws at my bones, it rips at my flesh.”

I remembered the images from that book; the bat ripping the neck of the rabbit open, the insects devouring their mates. That poor terrified lamb. I slowly lifted my head to look at Edmund and the red that surrounded him.

Edmund touched my face. “I want you. I want to taste you upon my lips because that is all that matters. You and you alone.”

“I do too, Edmund.” I knew I should have minded my fear, but he made it so easy to ignore. “I want to taste you too.”

“Such sweet words,” he moaned. “Remember. Stay at the top of the stairs. Do not go anywhere else.”

“I promise.” I stood. “I should return to work. I’ll see you tonight, my darling.”

“Save those words for tonight.” Edmund pressed his finger over where his lips would be. “Do not waste them when I cannot enjoy them.”

I smiled brightly, blowing him a kiss as I left the library.

Come evening I waited for everyone to be asleep before I made my way to the stairs. I looked up at them and held my breath. Edmund was waiting for me and so that gave me the courage to ascend. I came to the second floor, which had red carpeting and paintings of the vineyard along the walls. I had never been here, so I lingered a moment to look. There was an open hallway with a table down the center. I had heard they had wine tastings here. Then, the walls were lined with doors and paintings. I figured this was where guests stayed overnight.

The cold crept over me again and there came a knock from one of the doors. In my fright, I returned to the stairs, going up to the third floor. I stopped at the top like I was asked. I waited for Edmund to arrive, scanning the darkness to see what was there. No one except Lady Blythe and Edmund were even allowed up here, so all I had ever heard were theories and rumors that had been tossed around by the rest of the staff.

It was so dark though I could barely make out any details. I could see down a narrow hallway, and then to my left I could see the banister that looked down over the foyer. This was the bannister where supposedly the previous owners had hanged themselves. I left my spot, going over to the bannister to look at it for myself.

Lady Blythe said it had been replaced a long time ago and that no notches were there. But as I went closer, I noticed markings in the wood.I touched them, feeling divots there where rope must have dug in. I suppose Lady Blythe had made up that lie so no one would talk about it anymore. I ran my fingers over the notches one last time but then arms grabbed me from behind. I screamed and a hand cupped around my mouth.

“Ellen,” Edmund whispered.

I relaxed only slightly, but Edmund had still scared my heart from my chest.

Edmund pressed even coser against my back. “I told you to wait at the top of the stairs. You promised me.” He moved his hand away.

“You frightened me!” I whined.

Edmund’s hand wrapped around my jaw, holding my head in place so I couldn't move. “What about your promise?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t go very far.”

He sighed and his grip grew tighter. “It’s disappointing, Ellen. There are rules here I maintain. Rules that must be followed.”

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered again. “I won’t do it again, I promise. I just want to spend my evening alone with you.”

Edmund chuckled, and there was a sharp edge to it. “Then promise you’ll do what I say from here on out.” He released me then kept his hands upon my shoulders. “Close your eyes.”

I nodded, shutting them tight. He then moved me, turning me and pushing me forward. “Go inside,” he breathed. “Keep walking forward.”

Following his command, I walked forward, but I grew afraid and peeked open my eyes slightly. I could see the dark room before me and I stopped just before the door. “It feels cold.”

“Go inside,” Edmund urged again.

I turned around to look at him, but he was standing with his back towards me. I took a step towards him. “Edmund, I-” His arm whipped back, grabbing me around the throat. I begin to choke and struggle against his hand. The other came back, grabbing me around the throat as well. He shook me, and began to laugh.

“Bad girl!” A voice that doesn’t sound familiar comes from the red scarf. “Bad girl!” It cackled, both wicked and deep. “Bad, bad, bad girl!”

My knees grew weak, and I gagged as his grip tightened. He threw me through the door and walked backwards to chase after me. I couldn’t scream, so all I could do was run from him. I scrambled through the dark room, tripping while he continued to rush backward at me with ease and speed.

“I like when they’re bad!” He grabbed me again, picking me up off the floor and holding me in the air. I kicked and struggled, clawing at his arm and hand, but it wouldn’t let go. I then grabbed the scarf, pulling hard on it, tightening it around his throat. He threw me again, dropping me and the scarf went with me.

I looked up, seeing a face in the shadows at the back of his head.

“So very, very bad,” the awful little face grinned. “Because then they’re mine!” He lunged at me but no scream would leave my throat.

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

The body was left in the fireplace like it always was. Parts of it were missing, I knew the hands were gone, and when I saw who it was, I did mourn for a moment. I left the corpse there, going to bed where Edmund lay in the dried blood from his feeding. He was still in his clothes, but his hood and gloves were removed. His hands were an unseamly white, so pale and covered in coarse silver hair with thick knuckles. I placed my hand over my eyes and I gently woke him, rubbing his shoulder until he stirred.

“Don’t look, Blythe,” he whimpered.

“I’m not. Put the pillowcase on.” I sat down on the bed while he did so. He moved my hand away once it was safe.

“I liked her,” I told him.

“I’m sorry, Blythe, but she was so good.” Prowd put his hands upon my face. “I smelled her and I knew I needed her.”

“It’s okay. I don’t bring anyone here with the intention of keeping them.” I held his hands and gave him a smile. “You missed me, didn’t you?”

Prowd nodded. “Yes. I get lonely and then I get hungry.”

I kissed him through the pillowcase, all these years and he can still be so sweet. “I’m home now.”

Prowd wrapped his arms around me, hugging me in such a tight embrace. I held him back, careful not to touch the back of his head. “It’s so loud in this place when you’re not here, Blythe.”

“I know, but these things must be done, and you still have urges I cannot satisfy.” I cupped his cheek in my hand. “I won’t have to go again until later when we go into production.”

“Did you find some more good workers?” He asked.

I nodded, standing back up from the bed to search for his gloves. “I also found some staff for the house too. Which will be needed now that Ellen has decided to leave us.” I saw her hand clutching one of his gloves under the bed. Once I found the other glove, I placed them back upon his hands. “We need to clean up,” I told him softly, and got ready for the day.

Prowd nodded. “Can I keep her for tonight?”

I glanced towards the fireplace. “Are they still hungry?”

“Yes, especially for her.”

I turned back to him. “Fine, just one more night. Now, help me change the bed.” I took hold of his hand as he stood. “Once that’s done, I’ll tell you all about the new workers I got for the vineyard. I found a very lively bunch.”

Prowd rubbed his hand across his chest. “I’ll reward you tonight, like always.”

A shiver went through my body and I began to smile. “Like always,” I whispered.

“In the dark,” he whispered close to my ear. “I want you naked tonight and on your knees, waiting for me.”

I grinned from ear to ear. “I’ll do whatever you tell me to, my darling.”

#monster romance #monsterxhuman #dark romance #horror romance #monster fudger #exophilia #monster boyfriend #momolady monsters

[songmingisthighs]

[4.11] mafia!wooyoung × reader

⇀ you thought he didn't care, he was sure he doesn't, he had said it so himself to you. that was, until he almost lost the chance of being able to care for you.

⇁ tw : running away, mafia life (criminal/illegal acts)

⇁ part 1 / 2 / 3

⇁ disclaimer : the author does not support any and all criminal/illegal acts. the narrative written in this story is purely fiction out of the author's imagination. the things written here does not portray real mafia life nor is the author aware of how the mafia life is like. the author is a hermit loser.

At first, Wooyoung thought you had really ran away from him. After the fight you had the previous night, how could he not ?

"All I ask is a little bit of attention! I know you could spare some for me," you exclaimed, following after Wooyoung into the home office in his mansion. Yes, his, he never once said it was yours too so you treat it as such.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes at you, "and I ask you shut that big trap you called your mouth before I shut it for you, but we can't all get what we wanted now, can we ?" He spat.

You're used to his aggressive words, it used to hurt but now the pain just comes and goes. But you're at your wit's end, he was distant when you both were first forced into engagement but he was still polite so you thought that was just the shock, but now that you're married, things got worse.

"Wooyoung," you called, leaning both of your hands on his desk aa he sit on his office chair, "it's been 8 months since we got married," he glared at you when you said that, so you sighed and change your choice of words, "since we were force into marriage... But I've been trying so hard to make this less of a chore for both of us, I don't know what else I could do! You're not even bothering to hide the fact that you hate my guts to your very core even though it wasn't my fault that we got into this! Heck, you don't even bother to acknowledge that I exist!"

Wooyoung slammed his hands down on the table, standing face to face with you, "that's right," he chuckled darkly, "I don't even bother, you know why? Because you're nothing in my life, I never ask for you, I never wanted you, you're still here because your dad's business fell through with my dad and he used you as mean of escaping because that's all you are, princess," he leaned closer to your face and spoke through gritted teeth, "a worthless burden that people toss around,"

It would've been a lie if you said that his words doesn't affect you whatsoever. Because it does.

Maybe deep down that was one of your biggest fear and having someone confirmed that made you feel sick to your stomach. You recoiled from the table, as if having been struck across your face.

Though Wooyoung had a satisfied smirk on his face, "you should know I've been planning your assasination ever since you said 'I do', I would've made it look like an accident so that my dad wouldn't be up in my ass talking about losing his insurance of control over your dad, maybe I should move the schedule up so I can get rid of you quicker,"

You stared at him for a while, not knowing that he actually hated you that much. All this time you thought it was just petty reluctance of being tied to you, but this just brought things to a whole new level.

"No..." you choked out, trying to hold back tears, "I'll take care of it myself," and with that, you ran out of his office to pack all your belongings with tears streaming down your face.

And that was the last time Wooyoung had seen you. He had heard from one of his butlers that he had seen you running around the house retrieving your things where it supposedly was earlier, you looked frantic and you hadn't even taken a second to take a break.

"And did she got out of the house today?" Wooyoung asked from his position on the couch, loosening all of the buttons on his shirt. "No, master, not that any of us know of," said butler then leaned close to Wooyoung's ears, "the cctv has been cut off, her bodyguards are dismissed, no one has tended to her nor got close to her, and I personally see to it that all windows and doors are unlocked just as you had requested,"

Wooyoung couldn't believe that he's probably a free man now, that YOU had left him so that he wouldn't be in hot water with his father.

With a glass of whiskey in his hand, he decided to look around to see whether or not you had really left while telling his maid to prepare dinner for him.

True to what he expected, he made two laps around the mansion but not once did he find you. Not even in his office with a divorce paper, as dramatic as it sound.

He finally step into his shared bedroom with you to make his final confirmation.

At first he knocked on the door, not really knowing why he did that, but when no sound came from the room he simply opened the door and walked in. He hadn't returned the night before, spending half of his night in his home office before going out with San to a bar, not realizing that it was his guilt that drove him out to drink his memory away.

Looking around the room, he couldn't really tell whether or not you had ran away. The room looked like it had been slept in the night before, he could see the spot where you laid in comparison to his side that's perfectly neat.

When he stepped into the walk-in closet, he was quite surprised at the sheer contrast to the bedroom. Your clothes thrown haphazardly, it seems like you were urgently looking for things to pack, and the more he analyze the items on the floor, the more he realized that you hadn't taken anything that was bought with his money.

But that wasn't the thing that got his attention.

It was your wedding dress that had been taken out of its garment bag, across from it, an empty bottle of wine and a box of tissues with crumpled tissues surrounding it. It looked straight out of a movie.

He walked closer to the dress and trailed a hand down it.

He remembered seeing you wear it on your wedding day. He remembered being too pissed at his father to be able to fully appreciate how ethereal you looked. He remembered how when you looked at him, he could see the redness in your eyes, indicating that you had been crying.

But over all, he remembered how his heart skipped a beat when he saw you walking closer to him. Of course, he would never admit it outwardly.

His train of thought was broken when his butler knocked on his bedroom door, "master, dinner is served," he said.

Wooyoung cleared his throat and straighten out his posture, "yes, of course, I'll be there soon," he called out.

As the footsteps of his butler fade, he carefully zip your wedding dress back into its garment bag, making sure that the dress is stored perfectly.

After that, he went to the dining room to have his dinner.

Usually, you'd be seated in your seat, across from him at the other end of the table that seats 10 people. He'd have to admit that it feels weird not seeing you smile at him after a long day of working, but he forced himself to believe that it was a good kind of weird.

Strangely, as he eat his food he felt that it doesn't match his palate, that something feels off. So he called for his head butler and asked him about it.

"Did we change cooks? Why does today's dinner taste so bland?"

His butler seemed hesitant to answer him, looking at the head maid for a bit. The middle-aged woman stepped forward from her spot, bowing slightly to avoid Wooyoung's eyes, "we did not have any change in staffs, sir, it's just that the mistress used to prepare all of your meals and considering... the circumstances, she had not prepared anything for you," she said, not even bothering to hide her bitterness that he had drove you away.

Considerably, he was shocked that you had never brought the fact up to him. But as usual, he masked his true feelings and just nod at her, continuing with his meal even though he can't seem to enjoy it.

The shock didn't stop there, though.

Over the course of the first 5 days of you leaving him, he began noticing the things that indicate your presence in his house. Or used to indicate your presence.

He never knew that you were the one who always put flowers around the mansion. He noticed this when he passed by a vase of wilting aconite. It almost broke him when he see the maids cleared all flowers, leaving an empty vase that he now associate with your absence.

He never knew that you kept tabs on food he likes and dislikes. After 3 days, he gave up on eating the food his cook made for him, firing the poor man on the spot and resorting to take outs.

He never knew that you were the one who personally arrange his wardrobe. Usually, every morning he'd find his favorite shirts or favorite sets of clothes on the front, ready for him to pick out and wear. Now that you're not here, he had to spend extra time deciding what to wear.

And lastly, he was surprised at the fact that you had never made it to your hometown.

"What do you mean she's not with her parents?" He growled at his henchmen, making them visibly scared. "W-we tried looking for her, even asking around, but no one had seen her," he explained.

All Wooyoung wanted was to hear about how you're happier without him, how you've settled back to your life without him, how he'd be assured with the fact that you leaving him was the best thing that could ever happen to you two.

Feeling that he owed this for the sake of his own closure, he ordered everyone under him to find out your whereabouts.

The desperation suffocated him, he hated the feeling.

So he ran out of his office to his garden, going to the furthest side where it is practically abandoned so that he'd be all alone to calm his mind.

What he hadn't expect to see though, was several pieces of clothes on the ground. At first he just thought that the laundry might have flown away due to the wind, but when he inspected them closer, he recognized them as yours.

"Why would these be here?" He muttered to himself as he began picking up the scattered pieces of clothes one by one. When he picked up the last piece, he noticed your suitcase by the corner of the tall wall that surround his house for protection.

The sight that made his stomach drop was a rather huge hole that could fit a person.

Wooyoung's brain put 2 and 2 together and the only reasonable conclusion made him feel like blowing up.

You had been kidnapped.

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez scenario #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #wooyoung #jung wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #ateez au #ateez story #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #kpop imagines #ateez x reader #timestamp #ateez timestamp #kpop timestamps #smt timestamp

[sirensmojo]

"Collection" - Hubby!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Big fluff, typical wife/hubby scenes.

gif of @mistress-gif {here is the post}

Summary: Tommy ruining your carpet collection.

*Masterlist*

“Tommy, what’s this?” You calmly asked, pointing down.

“The ground, Y/N.”

“On top of it, you idiot.”

“Carpet?” He responded not sure about what your point was.

“Yeah. Now, what’s on top of it?”

“What’s the thing, eh?” Tommy was puffing on his cig while reading the newspaper, as usual for this time of the day.

“Just answer me, Thomas.”

It was around 4 in the afternoon, the only time in the day when he wasn’t too busy these days. He spent most of the time at the House Of Commons, so much that a little routine had settled.

Each day at 3:30 you heard his car outside, a maid telling you your husband was back home. And as each day at that hour, you were reading your weekly book, training your creativity for the novels you were writing.

When Tommy was back at the Arrow house, you weren’t there to welcome him, but you always had the maids put some tea in the living room along with biscuits for him.

“Wine.” He confidently responded, still reading his papers.

You knew your husband, despite whatever he was doing outside the house, he loved his cocoon, this moment of peace you gave him. In the only free hours of his day, he could drink without thinking too much, but Tommy being him, he soon began to read some books about politics, he couldn’t stay too long without doing anything.

You would always let him spend this time alone, sitting on the armchairs of the living room, a drink of whiskey next to his cup of British tea and a plate of biscuits. You let him charge his batteries, so he wouldn’t be too exhausted when coming back late at night.

All you wanted was to nourish him so he could be better at “work”, because that’s what he wanted for himself, and even if you loved him so much, you couldn’t know what was best for him better than himself, right?

It was pretty unusual of you to disturb him like that, and he wasn’t even ready for what was coming.

“No. No.” You shook your head to the left and right, “It’s blood. You fucking stained my expensive carpet with fucking blood.” You accentuated ‘expensive’ and raised your brows to voice your displeasure without even looking at him, which made your husband stop what he was doing to look up to you, blinking.

It’s the first time he lifts his eyes to you since you started this conversation, and an unreadable expression was all over his face.

Your working desk was turned towards him, which means you could still write on your typewriter as you were settling a score with him, you didn’t even lift your gaze to him and this added a dramatic side to the scene.

“So you’re not mad about the blood, you’re mad I stained the carpet.” He said utterly to himself, wrinkles of confusion drawing at the corner of his eyes.

You throw him a quick glance and see that he had dropped his papers on his crossed legs, he was now attentively looking at you.

“My fucking carpet, Tommy.” You highlighted, making him exhaling deeply.

You weren’t usually swearing that much, and the fact you did in this situation made him realize how mad you were.

“I can buy you another one.”

“You offered it to me the day we were coming back from our weekend in Paris.” You said, pouting.

This time you stopped writing and stared at him with puppy eyes.

“Yeah, because a couple days prior to that you made a scene about another carpet, Y/N,” Tommy said outright. He seemed fed-up with your obsession with carpets and came sipping on his drink.

You remember that day as if it was yesterday and couldn’t hold a laugh that escaped your throat, echoing in Tom’s ear that looked back to you.

The face he was making made you laugh even louder, so much he gave you his side look.

Of course, he loved to see his wife smiling and hearing her laugh, but with you, it was always more than just a smile, more than just a laugh, you were pretty dramatic, in everything.

When he would come home late, you used to sit in the armchair of your room and wait for him there, in the dark, lightening up the bedroom as soon as he set foot in it.

You were always lightening up the mood, you brought him something light. He knew that with you nothing was too serious, contrasting with his life where everything was, so no need to say you were succeeding at easing his mind.

He and you first met at the garrison, you forced the barmaid to give you a drink even though you were alone, using the excuse that you finished writing your first book and that it deserved to be celebrated.

When Tom heard that, he was instantly intrigued by you. A woman writing? It wasn’t the type of woman he knew. Of course, there was Lizzie but she was writing secretary things, not a book.

He was impressed, and somehow wanted to know more. That night was the first night since forever that Tommy spent the night with a woman without fucking her.

And a thing leading to another, you grew very fond of each other before the love came, submerging both of you with its violent waves.

Your marriage was still very fresh in your memory, as were your shared memories such as the day Tommy referred to before he took you to Paris for a weekend.

If you were, to be honest with yourself, you would say that the only reason for this weekend together was to make you forget about the time his men wrapped up a body in your carpet.

It was a windy spring day, Tommy was sitting in the garden at the table, his head dropped back to feel the wind fondle his face and embrace his figure.

The area was so calm and peaceful that your voice almost made him fall off the chair.

“Tommy Michael fucking Shelby! I’m fucking going to kill ya!” You were yelling at him, walking towards him in the grass, barefoot.

His eyes opened abruptly and he tilted his head towards you, hands crossed on his stomach.

As soon as his vision got used to the bright light, he frowned and straightened up on the chair, you were dragging a gigantic embroidered white carpet on the grass. And this wasn’t all, you were wearing your almost see-through grey satin nightgown.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” He desperately let out, getting up, ready to reach you.

“You fucking put down your little ass on that chair, Mr Shelby.” You screamed again while breathing heavily from dragging this huge luxurious piece to him.

He exhaled deeply and sat down, passing a hand over his face. He wondered what was on your mind this time.

You ultimately reach the perfect spot so he could perfectly see what you will be complaining about. You dropped the heavy piece of fabric you were holding and pushed strands of hair that were on your face behind your ears.

Sweat beaded on your forehead but you were sure it was worth it.

“What the actual FUCK happened with my carpet, Thomas?” You pointed to the multiple burn marks on your carpet. “Do you know how fucking expensive it was? It came from Italy, mate!” You angrily let out.

Tommy’s jaws dropped when seeing the integrality of the carpet, he knew what happened with this, but he wasn’t sure that telling it to you was a good idea at first. It’s when he saw your scolding look that he cleared his throat.

“Y/N… There was a fucking body in this.”

You opened your mouth in a perfect “o” shape, “There was what, where?” You solemnly repeated, hoping you didn’t hear right.

You didn’t care about Tommy’s business, you’d never showed any reticence toward the way he lived his life. You will never judge him, he was doing what he had to do.

But this… This was too much.

“There was --”

“Ssshh,” You interrupted him, “you fucking crossed the line Thomas, I bought that one with my own money. You owe money to me now! Fucking Blinder Devil.”

“What the fuck are you saying, Y/N? What line?” Tommy frowned even more. He was amused but a bit scared if he was, to be honest, how his oh so tiny wife could spit like that, he’ll never know.

He even thought for a second it was him that woke the monster inside of you by buying you your first carpet on your wedding day.

He coughed at the last part of your swearings. Well, it was true you were a writer so he shouldn’t be surprised you came out with such a nickname for him.

“Don’t forget you owe me carpets still. I ain’t forgotten about my Italian carpet!” You squint your eyes while looking at him, and that’s when you glimpse a smile at the corner of his lips.

You tried your best not to smile, but the vision of a smiling Tommy made your heart flutter more than anything else.

Your warm smile lighted something inside of him, and it was with haste that you got up to join him. Tommy was intently watching each of your movements as if you were mesmerizing him. You came to sit on the armrest of his chair, placing both your arms around his neck, your eyes anchored in his, and stayed there.

It wasn’t the only times he did shitty things to your carpets, and it’ll probably not be the last, but at least you will have plenty of stories to tell your children when you have some.

#Hubby! Tommy Shelby #Husband Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby x Reader #Thomas Shelby x Reader #Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby

[yslkook]

WRONG (3)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: you find yourself at the tattoo parlor more often as of late. also, jungkook hates lemon jelly filled donuts and is easily bribed by mint chocolate and macarons. pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, excessive use of pet names, kinda toxic friendship

Sora’s unbridled passion for why she believes Jungkook is wrong for you has never irritated you as much as it does in this moment. You’ll never understand why she’s so adamant about the topic, when it’s not her decision. When she knows that you’ve been harboring a small crush on the man for years now, and you’re fairly certain he returns your affections.

When the man told you that he had put an orange heart next to your name, you knew it was real.

You don’t understand why Sora is determined to make things so complicated, when they don’t have to be. You don’t believe her claims that he’s a fuckboy, that he treats people like trash. He’s shown you the opposite. He’s so gentle with everyone, not just you. He’s blunt but he has a big heart under all of the leather and layers of black.

If there’s a word to describe him, it’s dreamy.

Which is why you’re so hurt that Sora refuses to give him a chance. After all, if she was your best friend, shouldn’t she offer him a chance for your sake?

It confuses you.

“I’ve heard so many bad things about him,” Sora says knowingly, swirling her glass of wine in her hands. You don’t feel very much like drinking, not when your stomach swirls in unease. Being in her apartment is nothing new, but right now, you’d rather be anywhere else.

“But what things? And from who? Jungkook is such a genuine guy and he hasn’t done anything for people to start rumors about him,” You protest, but your words fall on deaf ears, “And I like him-”

“I mean come on, have you seen him? The man radiates bad vibes. My friends have all said-”

“Bad vibes? You’re dismissing him because of bad vibes when I’m telling you that-”

“I’m your best friend, don’t you think I know these things?” Sora says, heat and arrogance in her voice, “I’m only looking out for you. It’s shitty that you’re dismissing me for a guy-”

“I’m not dismissing you-” But your voice grows smaller and smaller, something that you think Jungkook might be disappointed in you for.

“It sure as hell sounds like you are,” Sora sneers with a cold sort of tilt to her lips, “Listen. I’m just looking out for you, even if you don’t seem to appreciate it. I thought we were best friends. Friends look out for each other, but if you don’t want to listen to me, that’s on you.”

Something dry settles in your throat and something heavy settles in your chest.

“He’s not good news,” Sora continues, as if she can’t see your heart beginning to ache, “I’ll find someone who will treat you much better, don’t worry.” She pats your knee in a way that is supposed to be reassuring but you wince.

You don’t want her favors, but it’s too late for you to protest. Besides if you did, she’d feel awful and you never want to be the cause of her being upset. She’s your best friend after all. And what kind of friend would you be, if you upset her to that degree?

But still... you don’t want anyone else. You want the sensitive man who gets misty-eyed by powerful renditions of Beyonce songs, the man who texts you until you fall asleep, the man who asks you what color to paint his nails when he feels like it.

You kind of want the sensitive man dressed in layers of black.

You let Sora talk your ear off about all of the guys she has in mind for you, but you stop listening. You don’t understand this vendetta she has against Jungkook, the vendetta that she’s always had. But she is correct about one thing- she is your best friend and has your best interests at heart...right?

The four walls of the tattoo parlor that you’ve begun frequenting more and more often begins to feel more and more like a welcome place in recent days. You’ve always been friendly with the guys, especially Yoongi and Hoseok.

Even if Yoongi doesn’t work at the parlor, he’s here frequently enough.

Though Yoongi and Hoseok are some of your oldest friends, you’ve only come to the parlor a handful of times in the past. Once that realization hit you, you’d made it a point to stop by more often.

Why hadn’t you before?

They’re your oldest friends, but these days, you feel closer to Mina and Mei as well. While you do have other girlfriends who you see as often as your collective schedules align, it’s still different.

But still. You don’t know if you’ve ever truly belonged with anyone. You feel as if you’ve been floating through life, with Sora by your side (at least half the time, when she’s not spewing criticism over the man you have feelings for).

Thinking about it gives you a headache and makes you feel nostalgic for something that you never had. But maybe it’s something you can have.

“Hey, you,” Mei calls from reception, where she’s sitting next to Hobi who waves at you, “What brings you here? Finally gonna let me pierce you?”

“I brought donuts,” You shrug, “And I’m not ready for that surgical instrument to touch me, thanks very much.”

“You can stop by without the pretense of bringing sweet treats over,” Hobi says knowingly, “I mean none of us will complain about donuts, but you know that right? You can come by anytime you want.”

“O-okay,” You nod, your throat feeling a little dry.

“Now, come here and let me see what you got. If there’s a lemon jelly filled donut, save that for Jungkook. He hates them.”

“You got plans this evening?” Mei asks, grabbing her bright red purse that’s nearly the size of your head. Her purse matches her bright red nails and for half a second, you’re mesmerized by the glossiness of her nails.

“No, other than getting ready for tomorrow’s day of work-”

“Great! Wanna come with me to the tattoo supply store? I have to pick up more needles, grips and gloves.”

“Sure,” You shrug, a little excited at the prospect of a quick adventure for Mei, “I’ll just say bye to Hobi.”

He’s already watching you with mirth in his eyes, as if he knows what you’re about to say. “Hey, will you tell Jungkook I said hi?” You murmur, feeling your ears burning at his smug grin.

“Sure, I will,” Hobi grins, “I’m sure he feels bad about not being able to say hi to you himself. He’s had a busy day.”

“Understandable,” You nod, “I mean, you guys say he’s the best in the city, right? I’m sure he’s got a waitlist of people who want to be tatted by him.”

“Maybe someday he’ll tattoo you, huh?” He says mischievously to which you roll your eyes and feel your face heat up.

“He would be so lucky,” You scoff, as if the notion of Jungkook tattooing your body doesn’t make something flutter in your belly.

“We have this competition at the parlor where the person who makes the most tips has to buy the supplies on a monthly basis,” Mei says smugly, “Usually, it’s Kook but for the last few months it’s been me.”

That doesn’t surprise you in the least- Hobi has told you that Mei and Mina are both skilled in realistic and watercolor tattoos, as well as piercings. You think if you were ever to receive a tattoo from either Mei or Mina, you would tip them for the mere fact of them being so close in your presence for so long.

They used to intimidate you, when Hobi had first introduced you to them. Mina with her sleek bob haircut, and Mei with her long, glossy waves. Both of them had nose piercings and their ears were dotted in different hoops and rods. You’d only caught a glimpse of their tattoos a handful of times- Mei has a full sleeve on her right arm where Mina’s tattoos seem to be more hidden.

They’re just so cool and funny and smart.

“How did you all get the idea for the tattoo parlor? Like, was it a business decision or were you all friends before?” You ask curiously.

“Well… Jin, Mina and I have been friends since we were kids, our parents are really close. Jin had this dream of opening his own tattoo and piercing parlor for the longest time. Jungkook and Hobi joined a few months after we officially opened. It took a while, but we’re where we are now,” Mei says fondly.

“That’s incredible! You guys started from the ground up,” You say, in awe, “That parlor is your baby.”

“Fuck, yeah it is,” Mei grins, “What about you? What cool tech stuff is going on in that pretty brain of yours?”

“Um…” Your face heats up at the compliment, “I’m currently helping in developing this app for one of our clients, it’s specific for tracking and trending information related to chronic health conditions. It’s still in its infancy, but it’s been fun! And it’s job security, I guess.”

Mei lets out a low whistle, “Wow, you’re doing something like that by yourself?”

“No, I have a pretty great team,” You shrug, “Something like that definitely can’t be done alone.”

Mei hums, “You’re gonna be great, Ms. CEO.”

“Yeah right, I’d never want that burden,” You scoff, “I’m good right where I am.”

With both of your arms full of bags of supplies for the tattoo parlor (and some extras), you both walk out of the shop and towards Mei’s sleek, black car. It’s late, and you don’t really feel much like taking public transportation. But you’re nervous to ask Mei for a ride home for some reason.

“Hey, did you drive to the parlor?” Mei asks.

“N-no, I don’t have a car yet,” You reply, “I only just bought my condo and didn’t want to make another big purchase just yet. I want to start looking though…”

“Oh! I’ll drive you home then,” Mei offers once she starts the engine.

“Are you sure? It’s kind of out of the way from here,” You reply, folding in on yourself a little in the passenger seat.

Mei only waves you off. “Oh, please. What kind of friend would I be if I just left you to get home alone?”

You bite your tongue, as vivid memories of Sora claiming that she didn’t have enough gas in the tank or her asking for gas money for the ten minute drive from her apartment building to your condo flash in your mind.

“Thank you, Mei,” You say gratefully, “Let me know how much to Venmo you, for gas money-”

“Gas money? For a seven minute drive? Is that a joke,” Mei gasps, “What do you take me for?”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry I asked!”

“Asking me for gas money,” Mei mutters, “You said you want to start looking for a car?”

Her smile twists into something mischievous.

“Yeah, I have no idea where to start though…”

“Ask your boy, Jungkook. Taehyung, Namjoon and Jimin work at a car dealership and they’re his roommates, I’m sure he’d be eager to help you.” Something in her voice is coy but you maintain a neutral face.

“Yeah… maybe I will,” You say thoughtfully, “Hey! He’s not my boy-”

“Alright, alright,” Mei relents gently, “But really, reach out to him. He’ll help you. So that those boys don’t scam you like the sleazy car salesmen that they are.”

When you see Jungkook next at the tattoo parlor which is conveniently on your way home from work (again with a box of pastries), you muster the courage to step into his office to ask him for help.

“Hi,” You say weakly, “Umm… I come bearing gifts. Got some of those mint chocolate brownie bars that you like, and those macarons-”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to bribe me, baby,” Jungkook says, smirking widely when your lips part in protest.

“If I was trying to bribe you, it wouldn’t be with mint chocolate. Disgusting,” You roll your eyes and squeal out loud when he lunges for you, giving you a teasing but tight back hug.

“Take it back,” Jungkook murmurs lowly in your ear. You hardly hear him, too wrapped up in the warmth of the big black hoodie he’s wearing. The soft, gentle scent of laundry and vanilla floats into your nose when you turn your head to press your cheek against his chest.

His heartbeat is faint against your ear. You wonder if he can hear yours speeding up.

“Mint chocolate sucks. It’s a fact,” You mumble.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” His voice comes as a low grumble from his chest and you swallow nervously. Before your nerves can get the best of you, he changes the topic. “Mei told me you’re in the market for a new car?”

“I don’t really know where to start, but I’ve already started doing some research,” You reply, pointing to your small backpack. You pull out a binder with meticulously colored tabs labeled in neat print that Jungkook raises an eyebrow at.

“What?”

“You just carry around a binder with your research on car purchases at all times? Is that what you do?”

“I have to be prepared!”

“Sometimes you just need a vibe check-”

“You want me to purchase an entire vehicle worth about a million and one paychecks based on just a vibe check? Is that what you did with your motorcycle?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook gives you a crooked smile, “And a little research. I guess.”

“You guess,” You mutter under your breath.

Jungkook has been more touchy with you once you had given him the go ahead all those weeks ago. He doesn’t show his affections with you unless you’re both alone, and it’s never anything more than hugs and the occasional brush of hands.

He’s melting you from the outside in, and you bask in his radiant heat. The thought of Sora’s approval doesn’t bother you, not when he hugs you like this.

But as always. Her disapproving voice worms its way into your head and you reluctantly peel away from him to sit on the faded burgundy couch with the box of macarons on your lap.

“So,” Jungkook says, immediately feeling the loss of your warmth in his limbs, “How can I help?”

tags: @kookdbean

MoM tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook x you

[cherryatiny]

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲! 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑦 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑡 (𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡) 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑠

𝐺𝐼𝐹𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑠

⩥ 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠

„Are you done, baby?“ Resonated the voice of your sugar daddy Hongjoong from outside the luxurious bathroom you were dressing up in. As you were finishing putting on dark red matte lipstick - the last detail of your makeup to decorate your perfect image, you opened the door and stepped outside into the wide hallway of his house.

Hongjoong was taking you out tonight. He had to use this opportunity of the only performance the worldwide famous soprano singer had in your city.

Coming out of the bathroom, you were wearing the black satin gown made by the best French tailors, Hongjoong bought for you when he was staying in Paris last week. It was as if the dress was made for you and you only, perfectly accentuating every curve you wanted to show off.

„Gosh, you look like an angel who fell straight from the sky, beautiful. Words can't explain how pleased I'm to accompany a lady this charming. Ladies first, we should get going to the philharmonic orchestra, shall we?“

Hongjoong bowed a little as he saw you, holding out his hand for you to take. A true gentleman. Going outside the luxurious mansion, a limousine was already waiting for you two in front of his grand house.

If there was anything Hongjoong loved more than you, it was spoiling you with everything you wanted, so when he heard that the primadonna you were fond of, was going to sing in your city, he had to buy the tickets with the best seats for you two.

Walking down the red carpet, straight to the VIP lounge of the philharmonic orchestra. Leaving your purse on one of the hangers, along with the coat Hongjoong helped you to take off, you sat down on one of the two velvet sofas there were, as Hongjoong did the same next to you.

The waiter who was previously waiting by the door came up to you two, a bottle of red wine from the best French winery in his hand as he poured you two a glass.

Throughout the concert Hongjoong’s hand never left its place on your upper thigh, your one, on top of his, fingers playing with the rings he had on.

However, the concert was kind of forgotten as you two just peacefully enjoyed the presence of each other.

The sound of a steak being grilled, vegetables being roasted, the tastiest smell of the chocolate lava cake that was being baked only added to the sight of your handsome sugar daddy Seonghwa, as you two enjoyed your time together in his black & white marble kitchen.

You were sitting on a kitchen counter, watching Seonghwa who had his back facing you as he stirred the vegetables, however, your mouth wasn't wetting at the vegetables, but the immaculate sight of his broad shoulders in the white shirt.

It wasn't a problem for Seonghwa to afford any 5-star Michelin restaurant or rent the best chef in the country to cook for you, but it didn't have the same atmosphere, nor was it a gesture that came straight out of his heart, like cooking for you himself was.

As he turned off the stove, he served the meal on pretty ceramic plates with golden lining. Pouring champagne into a fancy glass and dropping some strawberries into it, Seonghwa picked you up, your legs wrapped around his waist, and arms around his neck to not fall, he seated you on a dining chair in front of the glass dining table

Flashing him a smile, you dipped your tongue into the bitter alcoholic liquid, cutting the vegetables and the meat on your plate, you put some of it into your mouth, the tasty food melting on your tongue.

Like seriously, is there something this man is bad at? He is the most lovable person you know, he's smart, he's handsome, he can cook, and he can definitely bring you a lot of enjoyable moments in bed...

„Enjoy the dinner, beautiful. I hope you’ll like what I’ve cooked for you and don’t get too full, because there are also some desserts waiting for you.“

You laughed at his flirty comment because you knew the chocolate cake wasn’t the only dessert waiting for you tonight.

⩥ 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨

Spoiling his sugar baby, buying expensive clothing and accessories for her, or just spending money on her in general, was probably Yunho’s favourite activity. So when he was scrolling down different blogs trying to look for some place to take you to next a photo of Milan in Italy popped up.

Travelling there wasn't a problem as your sugar daddy Yunho owned a private jet ready to take him wherever he pleased. And before you could say anything, you were already laying in a king-sized bed with a tray full of different types of breakfast food, because in Yunho's opinion there was no better way to start a day than with a tasty breakfast in bed.

Laying next to you, he fed you crepes with fruits, pouty smile showed up on his face as he saw how much you seemed to have enjoyed the food he ordered for you, his hand tucking your hair behind your ears so it didn't get to you face as you ate.

After the breakfast you had to take a shower because let's say, there just wasn't much energy left to shower the night before. And as you finished showering an outfit Yunho prepared for you was already waiting there, since you two were supposed to go out today and do some shopping for the next week's ball Yunho was taking you to.

And there came his favourite part of this day - shopping. It wasn't a coincidence he chose Milan for your trip, since it was a city of fashion you two adored that much. Shops like Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, or Versace, you name it. Yunho's hand found your as you two intervened fingers and headed your way through the beautiful city.

„Princess, take this dress as well. I’m sure it'll look amazing on you, this shade of blue is totally your colour.“

You know, when shopping with Yunho, everyone would feel like the prettiest person alive, he won't stop hyping you up or complimenting you as you show yourself off in different robes. The current blue satin robe, that was accentuating your curves went perfectly with the clear high heels with diamond straps that adorned your ankles. However, the diamonds on the straps weren't that shining as the ones in Yunho's eyes when he looked at you in awe.

„Oh god, no words needed, we must get you this dress, it's just so... perfect on you baby. Now… what do you think of us going shopping for lingerie and you give me another private fashion show afterwards?“

⩥ 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

After you got into a sugar daddy type of relationship with Yeosang, you learned the difference between secret and private relationship. Even though people knew you two were in some kind of relationship, no one knew what it was about and apart of that, Yeosang liked to keep things rather private and just between the two of you. So the best dates in his opinion were the dates where you two weren't in public and could be just by yourself, which was quite difficult to carry out considering your busy schedules.

„Good evening, Mr. Kang. Your table is ready, the restaurant is closed down as usual, so you two could dine and enjoy each other in private.”

Said the young waitress, who was here always at the times you two came.

Showing you the way wasn't necessary as you always took the same table. The one right next to the glass wall with a panorama of the city covered in the dark, shining lights that decorated the evening in the streets.

You usually just stood there quietly for a few minutes, while the best cooks in the city prepared your meal. A glass of red wine, in one of Yeosang’s hands and the second one, wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him. At this point, dinner at this restaurant was like a ritual, always keeping your schedule free for a few hours on a friday evening no matter what.

Every friday, Yeosang would reserve the whole restaurant for two hours, just so you two can eat in private, and spent the time talking and enjoying each other's presence.

„The view today is magnificent, the lights are shining bright, not as impressive as my girl though, but it's still very beautiful.”

Giving you a soft peck on your cheek, Yeosang's hand motioned for you to sit down on the leather chair with soft cushions, and talk to him about your week while enjoying your favourite food with the best man in the world.

⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧

„Gosh, princess come on, why does it always take you so long to pack when we go somewhere, it isn't like you're gonna wear something half of the time though. I told you that you don’t need to bring anything, I’ll buy you anything you need when we get there, so please hurry up already...”

You couldn't quite understand why San was being so impatient to leave when the jet you were flying by was his, therefore, it probably wouldn't be that much of a problem if you came a few minutes late, but you still listened and obeyed his complaints, zipping up the luggage you decided to take with you.

Turning around, your eyes fell on the already impatient figure of you sugar daddy San, the unbuttoned top buttons of his white linen shirt exposed how in shape he was, sometimes making you wonder why he hadn't become a model with a face and body like that, but when you came to think about that, if he were famous, he wouldn't have been yours...

San needed a well-deserved rest at some peaceful place for a while, since his job was stressing him out so much, and there wasn’t a better rest than a week on a private island with his beautiful sugar baby. And since you already finished your semester, there wasn't a problem with you leaving for two weeks.

His limousine along with a driver, with who you were well acquainted, was already outside his mansion, waiting to take you to the airport. San, like the true gentleman he was, immediately took the luggage out of your hand and opened the door of the limo for you.

Throughout the drive to the airport, you were sitting on the back seat next to him, your head on his shoulder and his fingers playing with your hair.

You fell asleep on the way to the airport since San for some unknown reason woke you up at 5 fucking am, and San just couldn't help but admire how beautiful you looked as you were in the peaceful state occupied daydreaming. And because of that, he didn't have the heart to wake you up, so as you two arrived at the airport, his strong arms picked you up close to his chest as he carried you to the jet bridal style.

⩥ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢

Seeing the impact your overly stressful work had on you lately, Mingi couldn’t leave you to suffer and cope with it by yourself, that’s why he had to come up with a way to help you relax, and there wasn't a better way to make you relax than to take you to a luxurious spa resort in mountains.

He wanted to dedicate you a week full of massages, swimming pools, jacuzzis, saunas and of course himself. While you two were there, Mingi had carefully planned out your daily routines, so you can get as much relaxation as possible.

According to his in your opinion completely unnecessary schedule, it was time for a good massage. But for real, what was the point of creating a timetable, when you could just be spontaneous. However, it was still really cute and thoughtful of him.

The male masseur hasn't even massaged you for more than five minutes, when Mingi told him off, jealous at having to watch the way the male's strong arms rubbed on your bareback rather inappropriately in his eyes. And that was why Mingi was currently massaging scented oil into your skin, certain that he'll do better than the male masseur because he knows what's the best for his princess.

His hands roamed all over your body, not leaving any part of it untouched, and by that time, you both knew that it wasn't just a massage to relieve stress anymore. He tried to hold himself back to not tug at the towel that covered your bottom half from him, his eyes drifted to the wet swimsuit you previously had on when you two went swimming.

„Princess, what do you think of jacuzzi right now? You know, the one that's outside on our balcony, we could watch as the snowflakes fell onto the ground, while mountains covered us from the sun, while enjoying the hot water and bubbles. And since it’s private I don’t think there would be any need to wear a swimsuit…”

⩥ 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

„Mr. Jung, here’s the virgin mojito for you and Ms. Y/L/N” interrupted the waiter you and your sugar daddy Wooyoung in a conversation full of teasing and sexual tension. Poor boy, the awkward discomfort visible on his face. You two smiled at him and took the drink he handed you „Hmm, virgin mojito, just like the first time we met, well except for the virgin part...“

You two were laying on the couchette, the beach umbrella keeping you safe before the piercing sun rays. You cringed at the reference about your virginity from the first time you two met in the club. „Oh my god, Wooyoung can you not-“

Looking at him in disbelief through the expensive sunglasses you had on, you both fell into a burst of deep laughter at the memories from a few months ago that were flooding back. Taking a sip from the cold drink in your hand, you eyed the people that were playing around on the beach or in the sea.

„Wanna go swimming, princess?“ giving Wooyoung a side-eye, you pondered over his idea, without any word being said you stood up from the couchette and made your way to the sea. Looking back you saw Wooyoung still sitting there under the umbrella watching you in the distance.

„You going or not?“ and with that, he ran over to where you were, a mischievous smile on his face as he picked you up unexpectedly, running with you deeper into the water, „Jung Wooyoung, if you throw me into the water, I'll fucking kill you.“

⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨

Opening the massive door of your sugar daddy Jongho’s penthouse, with the golden entrance card e gave you, you stepped into the marble hallway. His housekeeper took the purse from your hand and helped you take off the coat you had on.

And as you arrived in the living room, he was already waiting for you there, his eyes shining brighter than the beaming smile he had on when he was you standing there in all your glory. You two haven't seen each other for almost two months he spent abroad.

And as soon as you caught the look in his eyes, you ran towards him, not wanting to wait any longer until you can finally hug him. Jongho's strong arms effortlessly picked you up as your legs wrapped around his waist to get closer than possible to him as you hugged him, probably squeezing the soul out of him.

„Baby, I’ve missed you so much, my pretty little princess, I promise to never leave you for this long, every day I had to spend without you was like a punishment. And the guilt I felt for neglecting you was eating me alive, that’s why I had to bring you some gifts to make it up for you. Come on, let me show you.”

You pecked the tip of his nose as you always did, the look in your eyes telling him that you felt exactly the same without him, allowing him to take you wherever he wanted. Not letting you go out of his arms that held you up, he took you to the guest room of his penthouse.

The one that was usually empty, because you of course always spent the night in his room, when you were staying over. Opening the door of the room for you, you almost fell from his arms as you saw all the designer dresses, shoes or accessories there were. „Jongho, baby, but you didn’t have to buy me anything, I just wanted you to finally be home.”

„Well, then now you not only have me but all of this. I too wanted to get back to you as soon as possible, but you know how much I love spoiling the heck out of you, so buying these things for you helped me overcome the sorrow I felt from not being able to be with you, princess.“

#ateez #sugar daddy!ateez #ateez fluff #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez headcanons #ateez x reader #ateez reaction #ateez smut #sugar daddy ateez #ateez sugar daddy au

[ficsilike-reblogged]

What’s in a Name? Pt. II

A/N: So I know I said that the first part was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done...but this takes the cake. The softest, cheesiest thing I’ve ever written and I will apologize for nothing. 

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader (no y/n)

Rating: PG for mention of guns??? A few smooches or two.

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: The five times Marcus Pike tries to propose and the one time he actually does. 

(Beautiful art by my bb @bucketheadredacted​)

Read part one!

Marcus Pike was finally a man lucky in love.

Maybe. Hopefully. God, he really needed to be lucky. Just this once.

He had bought the diamond ring three months after she had moved in—that was him moving slowly! Honestly! He had felt the urge to look at rings only a month after she had kissed him in the park but had refrained, his past failed relationships whispering at the back of his mind. He didn’t want to push her away. Didn’t want to scare her by moving too fast. Didn’t want to break his own heart again. It had been a strange uphill battle to just learn her name—and now he wanted to give her his name, too.

But he loved her. Truly.

And he knew that within a month of stealing kisses and slipping into overpriced hotel rooms between briefings and meetings and auctions across the country. And Marcus hadn’t been able to stop himself from asking her if she wanted to move into his Washington D.C. apartment six months later.

The words had tumbled out of his mouth while they were still half asleep, his alarm blaring in the background, alerting them both that she needed to get up to fly back to New Orleans.

And she…giggled and rolled over to press a kiss to his lips, uncaring of his morning breath. “Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

And it had been perfect. It had been good to come home and see her jacket slung over the back of the chair, to smell her perfume lingering in the bathroom as she dashed out the door, to wake up next to her when they both had a reprieve from their chaotic jobs and not have to worry that they would have to separate again within a handful of hours. It was good even when she tried a new recipe and the entire apartment smelled like burnt noodles for two days.

But he wanted to call her his wife and he wanted to be her husband. He wanted to have a family with her and maybe buy a house a little further outside the city—she had mentioned that she wanted a dog and a cat. “With room for them to run around!” She said with a smile.

And that all circled back to the ring. The platinum ring with the princess cut diamond. The ring he had been hiding for ages. The ring he wanted to put on her finger—if she said yes. Or he would have to tuck his metaphorical tail between his legs (again) and nurse a broken heart (again) and listen to his coworkers well-meaning condolences (again).

“When are you gonna ask her, man?” One of his fellow agents asked as they parked the agency-assigned SUV in the underground lot. Marcus had made the mistake of mentioning how he had a ring waiting at the back of his sock drawer and this agent—and honestly? Marcus couldn’t even remember his name—latched onto that and had spent the last three hours trying to ‘help’ Marcus come up with a plan on how to propose.

Marcus had a plan already. Thank you very much.

“I am going to take her to see the fireworks over the river.”

“Romantic. Good choice.”

Marcus felt himself puff up a bit at that. It was romantic, wasn’t it? This would be fine.

                                                     **

It was not fine.

The spot Marcus had picked was already crowded by the time they arrived—he was still grumbling about the flat tire he had to fix on the way there but his mood shift when he heard her sigh. It was a happy sound that had a smile pushing at his own lips.

“This is a good spot. Good choice.” She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his warm cheek before turning and grabbing the cooler from the back of his car.

Marcus quickly patted his pocket and felt the ring safely in its confines. This could work, right? He just needed to wait for the fireworks. He set a checkered blanket on the warm grass and helped her unload their cooler, filled with her favorite picnic foods and maybe a bit of alcohol too, hidden away in two tumblers. The wind off the river was nice, keeping them from getting too overheated and someone further down the bank had set up a radio, letting music provide a backdrop to the quiet lapping water and the conversations from the strangers around them. He was not the best conversationalist, Marcus had to admit, he was busy rehearsing what he was going to say in his head over and over, trying to imagine if she would cry or smile—or just…say yes. But he made her laugh and earned a few more kisses when he managed to contribute to the conversation and fed her a few of the grapes from the cooler.

It was good…it was fine…until it wasn’t.

It started with her swatting at something on her arm just as the sun had disappeared beneath the horizon. That wasn’t uncommon; the East Coast was notoriously buggy during the summer. It was probably a mosquito.

But then it happened again and again and again until she was standing up with a shriek, wildly hitting at herself. “Marcus! Marcus!”

“Honey?”

“There’s ants everywhere!”

He glanced down and…yes, there were ants everywhere. And then he felt his first bite.

They quickly gained more than their fair share of attention as they both scrambled to get the hundreds of ants off of them, knocking over their food and cooler with unpleasant groans and gasps as they gained more ant bites.

In a rushed haze, still swatting at themselves, they gathered up their belongings and all but dumped them in the back of the car. When their tires hit highway, they heard the first boom of the fireworks.

                                       **

“How’re you feeling?” She whispered as she rubbed a bit more cream onto Marcus’s back. It had been almost a week since the ant incident and his body was still covered in small red bumps. A testament to his failure.

He reached back, a little awkwardly from his angle on his stomach, and grasped her hand. “I’m okay, honey.” He hummed when he felt her pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Marcus turned his head just a bit and looked at her hand. Her ring finger was still bare. The ring had been tucked away in his bedside drawer after they both scrubbed themselves clean and then all but bathed in calamine lotion. But Marcus was a man on a mission. Having brunch, just to the two of them, all calm and relaxed, was just as good as fireworks.

When she’d been showering earlier, he had called in a delivery from her favorite breakfast restaurant, the florist down the block, and snuck around the apartment to try to tidy up a bit. Not that the apartment needed much. He had set a new set of candles in two overly-priced candle holders and lit them…and then quickly snuffed them out, deeming it too early for candles. He had slipped back into bed just as she emerged in a puff of lavender steam from the bathroom, looking much more comfortable than she had in days.

He rolled over and sat up to steal a kiss against her smiling mouth before coaxing her down onto the bed to apply her share of the strangely scented lotion to her matching set of bumps and bites.

“You know,” she started, face squished in the pillow, “for what it’s worth, I did have a really good time.”

“Yeah?”

“You know I always like spending time with you.”

“Even if you get eaten alive by fire ants?” He asked, a smile pushing at his mouth as his fingers trailed down her back.

She laughed. “Even then.”

He leaned down to press a kiss behind her ear before finishing her layer of lotion and his smile only grew when he heard the familiar, satisfied hum rumble in her throat. A knock at the door had him rising. “I’ll be right back.” Marcus pulled on a shirt as he moved toward the door and opened it, happily seeing two delivery men. He paid them both quickly and moved to the kitchen to set everything up as he heard one of his least favorite sounds.

Her cellphone ringing.

Marcus placed the flowers in her favorite vase but didn’t even move to plate the food he’d had delivered. What was the point?

She came out of the bedroom, rubbing at her temples and her phone in her pocket. “I-”

“You have to go,” he said, finishing for her. “Where to this time?”

She grimaced. “Nowhere fun. But apparently a Pollock has surfaced at an auction set for tomorrow night.” Her eyes darted to the flowers and her grimace softened. “Are these for me?”

Marcus smiled and handed them to her, chuckling as she all but shoved her face into the blooms to inhale their scent. He tightened the knot on the top of the takeout and handed that to her, too. “Here, you can eat this on the road.” And when she opened her mouth to apologize, he kissed the words away. Marcus would never fault her for her job and its uneven schedule, just as she never held his strange hours against him. “Home by Wednesday?” He murmured against her lips.

“Home by Wednesday. I promise.”

When he closed the door to her taxi and waved as he watched the yellow car disappear around the corner, Marcus sighed. Strike two.  

                                                 **

Patrick Jane was not who Marcus wanted to see right now. And neither was Lisbon. But that was beside the point. The point was that Marcus hadn’t seen his Honey in almost three weeks because of a demanding client wanting more and more art work so she was flown all over Europe to different auctions and private sales.

He had remembered how he heard her sniffle over the phone when she told him that this client was asking her to pick up more art. “It is good money, really good. I can probably take a few months off after I do this but I…” she hiccupped and his heart broke. “But I just really miss you.”

And that was why he had booked a table at this beautiful and romantic restaurant after she had managed to sleep off her jet lag and rinse the grime of the plane from her skin.

Marcus ordered expensive wine that she knew she only ordered when she closed a big deal and asked the chef to place the ring on the top of the tiramisu he had scheduled to be brought out in exactly 47 minutes.

But that plan had been fantastically derailed when that obnoxious blond man spotted him from across the restaurant and then had the gall to ask the hostess to seat them near each other. (What were they even doing in DC?) For her part, Lisbon looked uncomfortable, too, as they made small talk.

With each passing word and each forced anecdote, Marcus felt himself deflate. There was no way he was going to propose to the love of his life in front of his ex-fiancée and her husband.

“You know,” Jane started and Marcus felt his teeth grind, “Marcus always struck me as a family man.”

She smiled and reached out to wrap her fingers around Marcus’ and squeezed. “He is.”

“Oh?” Jane continued, leaning forward in his seat. “Is a congratulations in order?”

Marcus could hear his teeth grinding but her grip tightened on his hand while her smile remained steady. “That is none of your business. I am sure you can fill your time poking and prodding into other people’s lives. Now, please, you have interrupted my long overdue date with the love of my life with your prattle. I’m sure you’re lovely, but I am done entertaining you.” She raised her other hand and asked for the check which was quickly given. The hostess, for her part, did glance to Marcus to make sure it was okay before he subtly nodded. The ring was slipped back into his hand by a sly waiter.

“Marcus,” Lisbon murmured, “we didn’t mean-”

Marcus stood and buttoned his jacket before helping his Honey into her coat. “Have a good night, Lisbon.”

And they left the restaurant, flagging down a taxi as thunder rolled overhead. Marcus made sure to open the taxi’s door for her and let her slide in before joining her in the backseat. The pair was quiet for a moment, and then two before she started to giggle. The giggle grew into a full-belly laugh that had tears gathering in her eyes and Marcus had to laugh, too. She always made him laugh.

“God!” She said. “He’s so full of himself. And truly, Marcus, I’m sure Teresa is lovely but she has terrible taste in men. Choosing that over you? I would never.”

Marcus felt a selfish bloom of pride swell in his chest. “Yeah?”

She leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder. “Yeah. I don’t plan on ever letting you go.”

And you know? That made Marcus smile just as much as putting a shiny ring on her finger. She wanted him forever.

He could propose tomorrow.

                                             **

He did not propose tomorrow.

Or any day after that for the next three months. There just…wasn’t the right time. The ring he now kept in his suit jacket pocket seemed heavier by the day. Even his fellow agents seemed to pick up on the fact that something was bothering him.

“Fighting with your lady, Pike?” One of them asked as they were huddled around a table in the art storage room, trying to devise a plan to catch a thief who had managed to disappear with fourteen million dollars’ worth of some blueblood’s family heirlooms which included an Artemisia Gentileschi original. It was a brazen heist and obviously a huge case that needed to be their sole focus.

But sometimes his group of agents were a little nosey.

“We don’t really fight,” Marcus muttered as he looked over the blueprints of the family’s home, trying to find a way that the thief had come in and out. The official police report said a downstairs window was open but he didn’t believe that. “We have our disagreements but she is the most levelheaded person I know. The most heated conversation we had was over which diner had the best waffles.”

Another agent gagged. “You two are disgusting.”

“The word you’re looking for is ‘perfect,’ actually.”

Marcus shook his head and bit back a laugh—they really needed to focus on this case. “We’re not perfect.” And they weren’t. No one was. But that didn’t mean he loved her any less.

“Still haven’t proposed, eh?”

“Shut up, man.” There was no heat to his tone as Marcus scrubbed a hand down his face before looking at his watch. It was almost eleven at night. “Go home. It’s late. We can pick this up in the morning.”

The rest of the group grumbled their thanks and disappeared to the upper levels of the building, probably in search of their forgotten dinners before going home. Marcus tapped his pencil on the blueprints, his eyes constantly moving to the door leading into the ‘piano room’ which then led down to the wine cellar. He wasn’t sure why, but something in his gut just told him the answer led to that set of rooms.

“Marcus?”

He jumped at the sudden noise but quickly righted himself as he saw her entering the fenced off storage area, carefully skirting around a prized Greco-Roman statue they had just recovered in Philadelphia. It was no longer a surprise to see her down here, the front desk guards knew her by face and name and all but gave her security clearance, easily letting her through when they knew Marcus was working late. He stood and walked over to her, pressing a kiss to her lips and then forehead in greeting, listening to her hum in contentment as her hands wound around his waist. “What are you doing here, Honey?”

She smiled as she looked at him and shrugged. “I knew you were working late. Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d keep you company instead of tossing and turning.”

“You know I’m always happy to see you.” He led her over to the table and told her a little about the case, as much as he could without truly getting in trouble, and let her look over his notes.

She frowned as she turned the blueprints around and looked at them. “These people are like…billionaires, right?”

Marcus confirmed it with a frown but let her continue.

“Right. So, last time I was in LA, I was at that big, private auction at one of the gaudiest homes I’ve ever visited. Remember me telling you about that? The host got so drunk that he demanded he show everyone his three panic rooms and the private tunnel he had requested be dug behind his laundry room in the basement. Apparently he bribed the city inspector to keep it off the official blueprints so that a thief couldn’t use that tunnel.” She held up the blueprints and tapped at the wine cellar. “Ten bucks says there’s more to this wine cellar than just some ridiculous vintages.”

Marcus could feel his face lighting up. She was amazing.

They spoke a little longer, about possible suspects and how there was probably more than one thief—or at least a getaway driver—before their conversations shifted.

“The guys upstairs said something funny.”

“Hm?”

“They called me Mrs. Pike.”

His next breath nearly choked him. He was going to kill the guards upstairs. “O-oh? Really?”

“I think it sounds nice,” she said, her tone a little embarrassed. “Not that I haven’t thought about it before.” She smiled a bit, almost nervous. “We’ve talked about it, me and you, but to hear someone else say it…makes it sound…really nice.” She hid her embarrassment behind her hand and shook her head.

“I think it sounds nice, too.” He could do it. Right now. He could do it. They were surrounded by beautiful art. All by themselves. There was a light in her eyes that made his heart squeeze. His hand patted the pocket where he kept the ring and-

-it was gone.

“Marcus?” Her tone was filled with worry and she reached out to trail a finger over the crease that had erupted between his eyebrows, a gesture she did often when he brought work home with him. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah. I’m fine, honey.”

He most certainly was not but it wasn’t like he could tell her that or propose. ‘Yes, honey. I lost your engagement ring. Will you marry me?’ Fuck.

                                          **

The next day Marcus was stopped by the man at the front desk as he headed toward his office. “Everyone’s been telling me about your big plans. Can’t do it without this.” He handed over a small bag and inside…was the ring.

“Where’d you find it?” Marcus asked, stashing the ring in his briefcase this time. 

Apparently his pocket couldn’t be trusted.

“Parking lot.”

Marcus could only sigh.

                                       **

This was it. This had to be it.

If it wasn’t? He was sure the universe was telling him to just give up. They were happy, right? In love? Maybe they didn’t have to be married. Maybe…

No. No, he wanted to be her husband and he wanted her to be his wife. And that was why the ring was (safely and securely) stowed away in his wallet. He just needed the right time.

She was sitting across from him at their favorite diner, a stack of pancakes and a plateful of waffles between them and half-finished milkshakes abandoned near the saltshakers as they tried to guess which type of syrup was in each little carafe from a single bite. It was a game they played a few times before—one they had played on their first official date, actually. It had lasted well past the dinner and museum visit he had planned and into the morning where they had landed at the diner as the sun rose.

“This has to be strawberry,” she said as she finished her bite. “What do you think?” She asked, holding out the fork for him to take.

He took his bite and nodded. “Strawberry, definitely.”

She lifted the carafe and smiled as she read the tape on the bottom. “Point for us!” They high-fived across the table, laughing. The waitress who always served them shook her head with a smile from her place at the counter, knowing their game too well.

Marcus poured the syrup on their next bite and guessed its flavor before letting her take a guess.

“Um…blueberry?” She licked her lips, contemplating. “Maybe?” As Marcus lifted the carafe and confirmed that it was indeed blueberry, she continued. “Oh, a display of Alphonse Mucha is coming to Georgetown.”

Marcus smiled. Over an hour of their first date had been filled with soft whispers and shy smiles in front of a wall of Mucha sketches. They had been asked to leave by a polite but tired museum guard, not realizing they were there past closing. It was one of his fondest memories. One of the first times he realized she was truly special. He fell a little (more) in love with her that night. “We should go.”

“I’ll get tickets!”

This was the time. This was the moment. He pulled his wallet out under the table and curled his finger around the ring and watched as she smiled, wiping a bit of syrup from her chin. “I love you.”

She paused and looked at him, smile continuing to grow. “And you know I love you, too.”

“And I’ve loved you for a long time. You make my life better, make me better. I know our jobs are crazy. But they’re beautiful. Filled with art and excitement. But you’ve really…made my life a masterpiece.”

“Marcus?” Her voice was soft, eyes narrowing just slightly.

But Marcus pressed forward. “And I know that’s cheesy but I-”

And his phone was ringing. Why of all times was his phone ringing? And worst of all, it was the ringtone he had set for his boss. He had to answer. And she knew it, nodding just once with a fading smile. 

He stood from his seat and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m sorry,” he murmured before slipping away with his phone pressed to his ear.

                                               **

Marcus was tired. Tired.

He had been to New York to Miami to Orlando to Atlanta and then finally to Rio. The band of thieves, making a run for it with millions of dollars of art—including a da Vinci sketch. But he and his team caught them before they disappeared into the wind and the art was lost to the black market.

But he was tired.

He yawned as he drove through the mostly-quiet streets, ready to slip back into his apartment and pull his honey into his arms and then…sleep for three days. 

That sounded wonderful.

But then his phone rang again.

And he had to answer it.

Thankfully, it was a short call. Someone had just broken in to one of the smaller museums in Georgetown and they wanted Pike to catch the thief in the act. Marcus sighed as he tossed his phone in the passenger seat. If this went well, it meant less paperwork. And then he could sleep.

The museum was dark when he arrived. There was only a faint bit of life coming from around of one the corners and he slunk around in the shadows, a hand on his gun. He was ready. He could stop a theft before it happened. He could-

Marcus stopped dead in his tracks as he realized what he was looking at.

Standing in the center of the hall, surrounded by (electronic) candles and priceless Mucha originals, was his Honey. His Venus.

“Hi Marcus.”

He took one step forward and then two and then three-

And she dropped to one knee and gently grasped his hands in hers, tears filling her beautiful eyes. “You make me smile every day. Even when I feel the need to hide all your socks after you make me mad. You have given me a new way of seeing art, appreciating it. You, Marcus Pike, have helped me grow, helped me breathe when I thought the world was just too much, helped me learn what strawberry syrup tastes like.”

Marcus had to laugh at that, feeling tears start to gather in his eyes. “And pecan, too.”

“And pecan syrup, too.” She squeezed his hands again with a growing smile. “I’ve never known love like this. And I never want to be without it. I never want to be without you. I just…” she hiccupped, a few tears falling down her cheeks. “I just love you. Will you marry me? Can I be Mrs. Pike?”

Marcus pulled his hands from hers and quickly pulled his wallet from his back pocket, pulling the ring (finally), from its depths. “Can I ask you, too?”

She all but tackled him to the sparkling marble floors and pressed kiss after kiss to his cheeks, chin, brow, and lips, a laugh on her tear-stained lips. “Ask me.”

“Will you marry me?” The words finally came out in a rush, his heart beating wildly behind his ribs as he watched her smile. Her beautiful smile.

“Yes.”

A/N: Please let me know what you think!

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike #the mentalist

[chocominnie]

Can you trust me? | knj

⇢ pairing: namjoon x reader (idol! Namjoon)

⇢ genre: Angst because Namjoon may or may not be an asshole about important things but also fluff because of sweet-talking

⇢ word count: 3k

⇢ warnings: Arguements but honestly thats it because the rest if fluff lmao.

⇢ Copyright:  please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Summary: Namjoon keeps making excuses of not meeting up with you and given that you guys have been having fall outs recently, things are about to be put on the line. Will you guys break up? Or will you stay together? Can you trust him..

You have reached the voice mailbox of-

You shake your head lightly as tears feel the brim of your eyes. This is the third time today. You knew that in this relationship with Namjoon would mean that he wouldn’t always have time for you. But for him to not even give you a quick text or just even answer his phone is absurd. You’ve been talking about this meet-up for the past two weeks. Although he is mostly busy majority of the times, a dinner for one night surely wouldn’t affect his schedule right?

Especially with all the things going on between you and him. This date tonight would of approached everything that has been happening. The arguments you guys have are just nerve wracking. Especially when he argued with you for being clumsy because you had spilled fruit juice in his studio.. on the wooden floor. You just didn’t get how it would be a big deal as it was not carpet so an easy clean up. At the end of the day, you guys knew how to get on each others bad side and that’s not good at all.

So here you are now, dressed  in an elegant black dress with that Swarovski crystal bracelet he gave you for your 1 year annivesary. Atleast, that’s when he actually gave a fuck about the relationship. Actually, you can’t even count the amount of excuses he’s made within the past months to not spend time with you. The last time it was because he was washing clothes and didn’t have any to wear right now. In which you had called bullshit because he has more clothes than anybody could ever.

Needless to say, you had ignored his calls and texts for two days to give him a piece of your mind. Namjoon wasn’t the type to over-react on such things so it wasn’t a win situation for you. Instead he sent you some of your favorite chocolates and flowers as an apology as you weren’t speaking to him. Yes, you gave in because who wouldn’t over the dozen of roses and Switzerland made chocolate?

This time is something different though.

The waitress returns with a bottle of champagne with a bucket of ice in her hands, and while she sets it down, you quickly wipe the stray tears away and force a smile. You didn’t even notice they were there before.

‘‘ It seems as though my significant other..” You take the napkin from your lap and throw it on the table. “ Will not be joining me today. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

The poor waitress had been waiting for you to order your food for an hour now. You’d kept insisting to wait because Namjoon would’ve been there any minute. Turns out you were very wrong.

She smiles softly, popping the cork off the bottle and pouring a glass for you.  ‘‘Shall I give you the bill then?’‘

As if you would be the one paying for this, when he had broke his promise for you. Broken promises are a thing you hated and he knew that. Putting this on his tab wouldn’t bother him with your petty little antics. The boy is a millionaire, something like this doesn’t even make a dent. Somehow though, you wanted to pay him back for not even showing up.

‘‘Put it on Kim Namjoon’s tab. He’ll be the one paying for this.’‘ You mumble to the young girl. The girl nods her head and pulls out the tab and hands it to you.

You sign your signature on it, and place a good thousand dollar tip on it. The feeling of satisfaction soothes you. He’d surely be paying for his time away, and wasting this waitress’ time. You hand it back to her, waiting for her reaction to the amount. Sure enough she doubled back to you when she realized how much was on the tab.

“ Ma’m? You added two extra zer-”

“ My date wasted your time love. He’s deeply sorry for it. Do something good with the money yeah?” As if the sinister smirk to yourself wasn’t enough, you quickly get up from the table and thank her again before heading to the exit.

The taste of the sweet yet tangy wine soothes the emotions flowing through you right now. Kim Namjoon. A guy who cancels dates a lot. A guy who does not keep his promise.

The only place you knew he would be at rather than his apartment would be at the BigHit building in his studio. He’s always there rather it be snowing or sunny outside he’s just.. there. It always astonishes you how one can just lock himself in a room for hours. What is it about him and doing that? Last time you paid a visit here Namjoon was eating the dinner he ordered in the room, instead of coming over to your house as he promised.

You punch in the code to the brand new building and a charming sound lets you know you may enter. You smile at the two security guards who give a slight smile then back to the blank expression towards the outside world.

Your heels click against the cold tile making your way over to the receptionist. The air smells fresh, as if someone had just cleaned the room again. The receptionist politely stands up quickly and greets you with a smile and a slight bow of her head.

“ Miss Yn, how may I assist you today?” Her eyes are warm and bright, along with her small smile at you. You wish you could feel happy in this current situation right now.  

“Is Namjoon in his studio again.”

‘‘ Yes Ma’m should I tell him that you are coming in?’‘ She says, smoothing her skirt out before sitting back down about to grab the phone.

You immediately shake your head no. Since he doesn’t like showing up and canceling dates he doesn’t need to know anything at all.

You force a fake smile upon yourself to please her. ‘‘No. It’s a surprise since we have not had the time to see each other in a while.’‘ Oh yes, a surpise it will be.

She nods her head, ‘‘ Yes ma’m. Have a nice night with him.’‘

You say your goodbyes to each other and you go your separate way down the hallway of studios. Each door standing out in it’s own way makes you smile.

Mang Gae Deok Room

Hope world

Golden Closet

Genius Lab

And finally, Mon Studio.

You fluff your hair a little bit before turning the corner to the secluded area. But something takes you by surprise, it makes you tense up. Eyes watering and a little whimper chokes out of you. So this is what he’s been doing. This is what he’s been up to for the past weeks.

Its as if almost you feel your heart stop beating for a mere second. As if the blood in your veins went cold. As if what you’re seeing right now is only your imagination but in reality it is not.

There he is, sitting in his chair while a female takes it upon herself to casually take a seat on his desk, smiling and laughing and all. The pain in your heart makes it hard for you to keep looking. Sure, you guys argue, but ditching plans to do whatever it is with a girl is a low blow. That’s all you can take. That’s all you can manage to see right before he turns to look at you in complete and utter shock. There is no stopping the flow of the tears coming down your warm cheeks.

You look down at the boxed up food you had bought him and the bottle of wine that you had taken then back up at the door. Raising the box in the air, you throw it against the window making the food splatter everywhere leaving a mess. The two inside jump at your actions, but you ignore them and just walk away with utter disbelief.

Foot steps and yelling are heard behind you but you don’t stop. You continue walking, but then speeding up your pace passing the receptionist, who is confused yet concerned, and pass the two security guards with no expression.

Running to the open, vacant elevator you quickly wipe your tears and repeatedly abuse the close button to keep Namjoon from joining you. The image of him you get just before the door closes, is him running attempting to get the elevator door to open. You make sure to make eye contact with him just so he can see your pain.

You sniffle heavily while hanging your head low walking to your apartment. You could understand if it was one of the boys in the recording room. It doesn’t look like a great situation, but the girl did seem comfortable enough with him to sit on his desk. So that only leads you to think about how long has she been around him. The thoughts barricade your mind and before you know it you are face to face with someone standing directly on your doormat.

You dont bother to look up already knowing that body structure. Instead you try and shove past him to unlock your home, but there’s no use because next thing you know you’re being held by your upper arms standing in-front of him.

‘‘ Namjoon I don’t want to fucking talk about it.’’ You grumble, shoveling yourself out his arms quick enough to unlock your apartment enough for you to slide through and slam shut.

Knocks are loud on your door to cause some neighbors to wonder. Let them wonder they can scold him themselves for causing so much of a scene.

‘‘ Yn im coming in.’‘ He yells through the door.

You roll your eyes and stand a few feet from the door with your arms crossed on your chest. The door gives a charm letting him know the pin-code was correct. He shuffles in lightly through the door and closes it gently behind him. You stand there waiting for his explanation as you slowly walk towards him.

‘‘ Yn-’‘

Smack!

It felt good for your hand to connect with his cheek. How dare he disrespect the relationship of you two like this?

Namjoon holds his now sore, red cheek and gives you a serious look, ‘’ That was unnecessary. Let me fuckin expl-’’

Smack!.

Your nose flared in and out as you breathe heavily with your eyebrows furrowed in anger. ‘’ Another woman Kim Namjoon? You didn’t show up to our date because you were doing god knows what with another woman?”

Namjoon bites his lip hard as his eyes narrow, ‘’ Stop fucking smacking me. Let me got damn explain you brat!’’ He yells, pushing you to against the wall.

Your strength towards him was no match. You try to run away but he pins you back onto the wall. You were useless at this point.

‘‘ What’s your problem! Calm down!’‘ He semi-yells, grabbing your face to  make you look at him. You look at him, you look him dead straight in the eyes with anger all over you.

‘‘ Shut up. Shut the fuck up Namjoon. I planned the date to talk about everything happening but you don’t show up? Instead you were chatting it up with another girl.” You pause, ripping your arms away from him. “ That’s not a good look for you.”

Namjoon steps back, scoffing in disbelief. That only pisses you off even more, but you decide that it had been enough smacking him for the night. ‘‘ I wasn’t cheating if you think that. You and I both know I wouldn’t do that, right?”

You glare at him, ‘’I don’t know you fucking tell me.’’

That one single sentence sets him off. Trust is something you two really try to have with each-other but lately that’s been all over the place. Questioning his loyalty to him is like a stab in the back with a sharp, piercing knife. Namjoon puts his hands on his head in shock while walking towards the kitchen. You follow him because the last thing he was going to do to you, is ignore the entire fucking conversation.

The silence is rough. You sit yourself down on one of the island chairs as you watch him pour himself a glass of wine. The one you had bought from the restaurant. The way his jaw locks with a serious pout on his face lets you know, he has some choice words to say. That sharp tongue is just holding it in.

But did you over-react? Perhaps you did? Either way, it wasn’t a great scene to walk in on. Your man and another woman alone in his studio. You can’t help but to have reacted that way. Wouldn’t any other person would? It’s not that she was there, it was the way she was very comfortable around Namjoon to the point of doing what she did. She was also a person you had never met.

Namjoon puts the tip of the glass to his lips, making direct eye contact with you as he takes a long sip of wine. You roll your eyes at his dramatic action.

He clears his throat, ‘‘ Im still young. I have female friends and I have male friends. I would love to have time with them before you start barking up my ass.”

Barking up his ass?

‘‘ So you’re saying that all you were doing was having fun with her cause you’re still got damn young huh? Is that what i’m hearing Namjoon?’‘ That rage begins in your stomach again. Simmering in you like boiling water.

You continue, “ It’s like you just don’t care you left me at the fucking restaurant looking stupid right?”

‘‘ No I wasn’t having fun with her. You ran out without letting me explain, instead you were all dramatic throwing fucking food at my windows.”  The sound of the glass clinking against the counter-top is sharp. You wince at the sound of it.

Maybe you did over-react. But in your defense, you still had no idea who the girl was.

“Yn, how childish can you be right now? Did you ever think that me, one of the members of a worldwide known boy-group will be busy? Hmm? Yes, I should of told you that I couldn’t make it beforehand. I honestly thought I would be able to join you, but I overlooked my schedule wrong. That is my fault. The girl came because she was scheduled to work on our collaboration tonight with me.”

Oh gosh. The guilt takes over your body all at once. This was the last thing you wanted to happen. You really outdid yourself now. During all your rage and tantrum about this situation, you had failed to realize that you had indeed signed up to live this type of relationship with him. Of course he’d be busy, he’s an idol. Not once did you take his feelings and thoughts into consideration this entire time.

“ I don’t know Yn, I don’t know if we can continue our relationship together. You and I seem to be clashing a lot now-a-days. You questioning my loyalty really hurt me. We should think about taking a break, or ending things.”

Tears well in your eyes but you just let them fall. Those words you never wanted to hear ever. Sure couples clash with each-other, but isn’t that what makes them stronger? It’d be One year and a half down the drain if things were to go south now. Namjoon is a sweet guy, but your recent over-reacting scenes is becoming too much for him.

There goes that silence again. You two just sit there, not saying a word. The tension is thick as wood. This isn’t right. This won’t be right. Th emotions in you are running high. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Things were only said in the heat of the moment. You were tired of him always canceling and didn’t even bother to let him explain. This could of been handled better.

“ I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve been wanting to spend time with you and you keep canceling on me Namjoon..”

He sighs, placing his now finished glass of wine in the sink. He runs his hands in his hair shaking his head again. “ I’m sorry for that. I should do a better job at telling you my schedule.”

It still hurts though. The way he said those words without hesitation. “ Do you.. still want us to take a break after this?”

“ I think that now that we understand each other a little more, we can work on being better together and not seperate.”

You’re happy to hear those words. Namjoon comes from behind the counter straight towards you where you were now standing beside the chair you were once sitting in. His arms snake around you and pull you into his chest, hugging you tightly. You sink into him, nuzzling your head into him with a small sigh.

“ I don’t like when we fight like this. You know I love you right? So much. So, so, much.” He whispers down to you. You nod your head in agreement. It’s something about being in his arms that soothe you.

You feel so complete with just the presence of him. He makes you happy, as you do him. Namjoon is understanding, caring, kind, and so much more to you. He was there for you on your worst days, and was there on your best days.

He plants a small kiss on your forehead, “ Let’s become better together yn. I want big plans for us in the future, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“ I want that for us too. I love you so much Namjoon. Even when things are bad for us, I care a lot about you.”

The butterflies in your stomach settle. Being in Namjoons arms is what home feels like to you. You’re secure and safe.

‘‘ Can you trust me next time? I promise from now on I will tell you in advance if I cannot participate instead of just leaving you wondering.‘

You nod your head, not caring about what he said but only caring about his embrace right now. The only thing you care about att he moment is him and his understanding.

‘‘ Can you trust me?’‘

#kim namjoon #namjoon #knj oneshot #knj #namjoon fanfic #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #namjoon reaction #namjoon fanfiction #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts reaction #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #jeon jungkook #bts

[jaskierswolf]

My dearest darling Wolfie, I saw your idea for game gerlion friends to lovers in @thewitcherbog horny chat and I am here to ask you to write the fic. Pls 💜😘

Tada!! I can't remember if this was exactly what I had planned... but it's what we're getting. Lovingly beta'd by @comfyswitcherblanketfort.

CW: probably rated M? Briefly mentioned masturbation more horny than smutty.

____

A retirement at Corvo Bianco had never been what Geralt expected of his life. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told a young Dandelion that witcher’s never retire, but in recent years between looting caves and haggling for contracts, he’d managed to save quite a bit of coin. He was, objectively, rich. He had the best armour on the Continent, the most deadly swords and crossbow bolts, and thanks to B.B., his house was beautifully decorated, with the exception of the rather garish portrait of his most loyal friend. Yet, he was still gaining more money than he knew what to do with. He’d started investing in merchants and refusing payment but the vineyard brought in a steady income and Geralt had to admit that his life was pretty luxurious these days.

So it wasn’t exactly a surprise when Dandelion had turned up, in fine, brightly coloured silks and the elegantly decorated elven lute from so many years ago. Geralt sometimes wondered whether Toruviel had enchanted her lute. There was barely a scratch and Geralt couldn’t even recall Dandelion ever having to change the lute strings in all the years he’d known the bard. Geralt was no expert but he was pretty sure that you were supposed to change the lute strings.

The sun was shining over the fields of Corvo Bianco, and Geralt felt at peace. Perhaps that was why he was feeling so nostalgic, pondering over the events that had led him to this moment. His life had always been so busy, but with Ciri off touring the multiverse, and Yennefer doing whatever Yennefer did these days now the Djinn wish had been broken, he was… well… bored? He had every Gwent card currently made, and no one would play him. It was just him and the bard, living the bachelor’s life in Touissant.

So was it any wonder that Geralt had started to develop feelings for his friend? Perhaps they’d always been there, clouded by the wish that tied him to Yennefer, or perhaps their newfound domesticity had awoken something in Geralt that he had never expected. Dandelion spent a lot of time in the makeshift study, working on his latest book, but they always ate together and sometimes the bard would even accompany Geralt on his contracts in the fields, for old times sake. After long nights of drinking too much wine or vodka, it wasn’t unusual for the pair of them to fall asleep together, curled up in one bed just like they used to in their youth. Those were Geralt’s favourite nights, because despite his protests of being better alone, he enjoyed the familiar warmth of another body pressed against his, and Dandelion had always been a cuddler.

And as if on cue, the bard burst through the doors onto the patio where Geralt was watching the world go by.

“Ah, Geralt, old friend, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you!” Dandelion announced with a flick of his wrist. “I was just in town.”

“Dandelion,” Geralt groaned. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Dear Henrietta will forgive me in time, my friend,” Dandelion winked, his tongue flicking out between his lips, “and until then I have plenty of friends who will offer me shelter if the guards are around.”

“You look like a man sized peacock,” Geralt scoffed. “How the hell does no one see you?”

“Ah, dear witcher, you forget that I used to be a spy,” Dandelion laughed, putting one hand on his hips. “Now, stop interrupting, Geralt, or do you not care about the gift I picked out for you in town today?”

Geralt hummed, knowing that it didn’t really matter whether he cared or not. Nothing would stop Dandelion once he was in the middle of a story. Some things just never changed. “Go on.”

Dandelion beamed, and from behind his back he produced a wooden box. The poet cocked his head as he opened the lid, revealing a set of tiny vials neatly lined up. Geralt almost choked, his breath catching in his throat.

“Oil?” he spluttered. A man such as Dandelion had to know of the more promiscuous uses of oil. Whilst Dandelion had never explicitly said as such, the way he talked of his lovers had always led Geralt to believe that he was rather flexible in his tastes, much like Geralt himself.

The poet blushed as he pulled a single vial from the box, his long lutist fingers wrapping around the glass. “Bath oils, Geralt.”

“Oh, of course,” Geralt cursed internally. Dandelion had bought all sorts of expensive oils and lotions when they had been on the path together, neither of them were shy with their bathing habits and the poet was a highly skilled masseur.

Which was not helping Geralt’s sudden rush of arousal as he remembered the feel of the poet’s hands on his skin. They’d laughed off awkward erections in the past, it was just a thing that happened… but Geralt was starting to wonder what would happen if, for once, they let it happen.

“This one will probably be a bit much for your witcher senses, my friend, but I rather like it,” Dandelion continued, oblivious to Geralt's inner turmoil. “This one,” another vial was plucked from the box, “however, I think you will like, and I managed to buy this,” Dandelion pulled a scroll from his pocket, “from a local mage. It’s supposed to move the water around the tub, like a massage!”

“And you’re telling me this, why?” Geralt sighed, rolling his eyes. As much as he adored his old friend, the man could take his sweet time getting to the point. It was even worse when the poet and Regis got together, Geralt honestly thought he might never know peace again.

“Because, Geralt, I am treating my dearest friend to an extravagant bath time experience!” Dandelion exclaimed with wide arms, almost knocking off his own hat in his enthusiasm. “Friendship and love, art and wine, Geralt. What more could you want in life?”

Love.

No, friendship. Geralt needed to focus on that. How many times had Dandelion called him his friend? Too many to count.

“Assuming you have wine, what’s the art?” Geralt smirked, enjoying the offended noises Dandelion made.

“Geralt, I’ll have you know that-”

“Relax, Dandelion. I’m teasing. So how about this bath then?”

The two men made their way upstairs, peeling off their outer clothes as they strolled past Geralt’s bedroom, and picking up a robe each. Dandelion had filled the room with candles, and there was a soft floral scent hanging in the air, roses, the oil vial that Dandelion had initially held up.

“I thought this one was too much for my ‘witcher senses’?” Geralt scoffed, peering at the magically bubbling water.

“Well, yes, but I did also say I liked this one, and I’ll admit that I got a little carried away. You don’t mind, do you Geralt?”

Geralt shook his head as he stripped off his final layer of clothing and settled into the tub. Dandelion sat in a chair, still wrapped in his robe, and picked up his lute. He plucked idly at the strings until he was seemingly happy that they were in tune, and then he began to sing. Geralt sighed as he sank deeper into the hot water, the enchantment really did feel like a sort of massage as jets of water pulsed against his skin, but he couldn’t help but wonder. The oils, the candles, the romantic ballad…

Was his friend trying to tell him something?

It was time for Geralt to test the waters as it was. He trod the water with his hand, gently splashing to the beat of Dandelion’s song. Normally, he would close his eyes and let the poet’s music fill the room, but instead he was mesmerised by the way Dandelion’s finger caressed the lute strings. Geralt could feel his cock harden as he pondered what other uses his friend’s delicate hands could have, the way they found their mark with such precision. The poet could make any instrument sing to the gods in his hands, Geralt was sure that he was no exception.

“Practicing your fingering?” he asked Dandelion with a tilt of his head.

The strings twanged unpleasantly, making Geralt grimace as the sound reverberated in his head. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Geralt smirked. “On your lute.”

“Right, yes, of course,” Dandelion muttered. “I’m just trying to figure out the next verse. I could use a hand, or an ear if you’d be willing to help.”

“I have a hand you could use, or two,” Geralt muttered not really intending for Dandelion to hear him but the poet had sharp ears and he spluttered incoherently as he set down his lute.

Geralt hummed and let his hand drop beneath the water, stroking his cock lazily. He wasn’t really chasing any real pleasure, but it was a good feeling, sending warmth across his skin. The bath, the candles, the song, they had to mean something even in Dandelion’s subconsciousness. The man was an insatiable flirt, and yet never seemed to notice when others’ affections were cast upon him, not unless it was blunt in its honesty.

So Geralt would be blunt.

He closed his eyes as he continued to stroke the length of his cock, the motion causing the water to ripple slightly, but not yet enough to draw Dandelion’s attention. The poet was too busy wittering on about his rhymes, only noticing when Geralt’s breath hitched as he cupped his balls.

“Geralt?”

“Dandelion,” Geralt grunted softly, his pleasure beginning to build from a warm ember to a roaring blaze that burned through him. The poet’s cornflower blue eyes were on him, dark and hungry. His cheeks were flushed rosy, and it seemed his dear friend was finally catching onto what was happening.

“I- I can leave, my friend, if you would prefer…”

“Stay,” Geralt insisted. “This not what you had in mind?”

“Well,” Dandelion laughed. “I had hoped, but I never thought it would actually happen, and well, really I thought it might take a little more convincing. Who knew all I needed all along were a few cheap candles?”

“Just get in the bath, Dandelion,” Geralt growled.

“Okay, okay,” Dandelion said with a roll of his eyes but shrugged out of his robe, allowing Geralt to admire his slender form. The poet’s cock remained soft as he stepped into the water. “So… how long?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have I been more than just a friend to you, Geralt?” Dandelion asked, settling into the water with a soft moan. His hands resting on Geralt’s thighs, fingers drawing patterns on Geralt’s skin under the water.

It wasn’t an easy question to answer. Could he even pin it down? Geralt wasn’t sure.

“Hard to tell, our friendship has never exactly been normal, Dandelion,” Geralt admitted.

Dandelion laughed, leaning forward in the tub, his hands stroking up Geralt’s thigh, the movement forcing the air from Geralt’s lungs. “You know, you’re right, and I think we should celebrate.”

“Celebrate?”

“Mhmm, and how about we start with a kiss?” Dandelion winked, before falling into Geralt embrace with a splash.

#the witcher #geraskier #gerlion #the witcher 3 #tw3 #geralt of rivia #dandelion #geralt x dandelion #wolfie's witcher writing

[luminnara]

Victor Zsasz x Reader NSFW | 18+

Fandom: Birds of Prey/DC

I don’t see nearly enough BOP!Zsasz appreciation here, so I’m determined to change that. Reader is fem, but if there’s interest I can definitely write stuff for male or nb! The reader also has a whole backstory because I’m way more into world and character building than I am reader inserts so this is practically a little OC fic lol

This is sort of set pre-Birds of Prey, don’t worry about it too much, it’s just fun

Warnings: Violence, Zsasz being Zsasz, reader is an assassin who unalives people, light smut

This is short because I’m testing the waters! If there’s interest, I’ll write a part 2!!

Requests are open!

When Roman announced that he was hiring a new girl, Victor was less than thrilled. He liked what they had going--Roman was the money and the brains, and Victor was the muscle, the devout follower, and the one who loved to spill blood. They didn’t need anybody else, especially not a new hitman, and especially not a girl.

You had grown up in Gotham City’s East End, a district that was infamous for harboring all sorts of crime. You knew every street, every dark alley, every burnt out shell of a once-great building. The East End was a far cry from Gotham’s nicer neighborhoods, with their shining skyscrapers and big fancy department stores, but what could you say? The East End was home. It was dark and gritty and dangerous, but you loved that about it. 

Besides, it’s not like you could really go anywhere else. 

You had developed quite a reputation for yourself over the past few years. Places like the East End have a tendency to breed criminals, and you were no exception--as soon as you left home, you followed right in your mother’s footsteps and became a gun for hire. Thanks to your family name, you had no trouble taking on the odd merc job here and there, working for mob bosses who didn’t mind the mess you tended to leave behind. Silent, sneaky kills weren’t really your thing, but you never really got into the whole...artistic thing that a lot of other killers did. You didn’t sit there and fuck around with the blood and guts, you just...weren’t very tidy. You were quick, but you weren’t clean. If somebody wanted their enemies taken out quietly, they knew not to even look in your direction, because you were not the girl for the job. 

If somebody wanted to make a statement, though...

You were more than happy to crush some skulls and splatter some blood across the sidewalk for the right price. 

Of course, so much killing got to be exhausting after a while, and even brutal assassins like yourself needed to relax every so often. So, that’s how you found yourself finishing up a job and heading back to your modest little apartment, hopping in the shower, and scrubbing all the blood and dirt off your skin as if you had just spent a long day at the office. It was all normal for you--the killing, the shady bosses, the weirdos you worked with--and you treated it the same way any of those prim and proper office people in Old Gotham treated their day jobs. It was a way to make ends meet, something to pay for groceries and take care of the bills...only, in your case, you were generally paid fully in cash, and sometimes that cash had some suspicious stains on it. 

But hey, work was work, right?

That night, you headed to a club you had yet to check out. Done up in a little black dress and wearing some very expensive pearls you had nabbed off of a target a few months back, you took a cab and found yourself entering The Black Mask.

It was a nice spot, the booths and bar all packed with socialites and crime lords. Waitresses and shot girls flitted around, there was a band playing on the stage, and the atmosphere seemed to be cheerful. Honestly, it wasn’t what you had expected, given what you’d heard about its owner.

Roman Sionis was a businessman, as he liked to call himself, who had been steadily growing his empire. He practically owned the entire East End now, and word on the street was he was looking to expand further into the rest of Gotham. You had never met the man, but you had enough mutual connections that Roman knew exactly who you were the moment he spotted you at the bar.

“Zsasz, go get her,” he said, gesturing towards you with a gloved hand.

Zsasz followed his gaze and tilted his head slightly. “You got it, boss.”

You were minding your own business, ordering yourself a gin and tonic and elbowing drunk men out of your way as you carved a little spot for yourself at the bar. They were rambunctious, leaning towards you with wide grins and beady eyes that told you they were hoping to get lucky tonight.

As you were getting ready to throw another elbow, the men suddenly scattered, vanishing into the crowd as if something had scared them off. The bartender set your drink down in front of you, and just as you raised the glass to your lips, the scent of musky cologne filled your nose and you looked up to see none other than the notorious Victor Zsasz standing before you.

“Boss wants to talk with you.” He said simply, his voice rough and hoarse.

But you were too busy taking in his facial features to really listen to his words. His short hair was the lightest blonde you had ever seen, almost snowy in color, a stark contrast to the black stubble that covered his jaw. He was wearing a silky dress shirt the color of red wine, or dark blood, the kind that was thick and coagulated and dripped off of knives so beautifully.

As he stared right back at you, you saw the scars that cut into his face, straight, meticulously carved lines that you were sure he had given himself. After all, just as you did, Victor Zsasz had a reputation, and while you had never met him, you had heard plenty about the sadistic assassin who kept tally marks of all of his victims.

Part of you wondered just how many he had.

You took a sip of your drink, eyes never leaving his. “I only just got here. I haven’t even paid for my drink.”

“On the house, courtesy of Mr. Sionis.” Zsasz said, regarding you with heavily lidded eyes as he looked down at you.

Just as you knew of him, he knew of you. Even though he was pretty much locked in place with Roman now, Zsasz heard plenty about everyone else in the East End. You practically ran in the same circles, and he had to admit, he was a tiny bit curious about the lady assassin everyone was raving about. He almost admired the messiness of your kills, but he also thought that you were sloppy and too quick, never taking the time to truly appreciate what you were doing.

Now, as he glanced down at the swell of your tits as they practically spilled out of your dress, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill you, or fuck you, or both.

“It’s rude to stare, Mr. Zsasz.” You teased as you caught him.

“It’s rude to keep the boss waiting.” He shot right back.

“Fine.” you sighed, pushing away from the bar. “Lead the way.”

He offered his hand and you took it, holding onto him gingerly. The crowd parted for Zsasz in a way that they never would for you, smoothly and easily, club patrons giving him polite, frightened nods as he pulled you past. His grip on your hand was tight and harsh, squeezing as if you might try to run, but in all honesty, you were marveling at how warm his skin was around yours. You didn’t hate the way he led you over to his employer, and you knew that he was being gentle, or at least his version of it. 

When he brought you before Roman Sionis, he immediately let go of you, moving to stand next to his boss. Roman himself was sitting in a booth, sinking into the lavish red velvet upholstery as he held a drink in his gloved hand. He regarded you with a calm smile, immediately gesturing for you to take a set across from him. 

So you did, and the rest was history.

Roman Sionis had heard of you, and when he realized that you lived in the East End, in his East End, he had to have you. He had to own you. So, he did what he always did with people, and he bought you. All you had to do was complete one little, simple job for him, and he would keep you around on a regular salary, giving you all the benefits of joining his tiny little family. You passed his test with flying colors, taking out your target faster than Roman could have hoped for, and the next thing you knew, you were spending your days lurking around Roman’s penthouse. 

You stayed quiet and obedient, not wanting to give Roman any reason to get rid of you. It was a good, steady gig, one you didn’t want to pass up, but you could tell that Zsasz wasn’t pleased. He scowled at you, always waiting for you to trip, always ready to watch you fall. You got the feeling that he viewed you as an intruder, someone who was messing up his life even though you gave him more than enough space. He would raise his lip in a sneer whenever you passed, showing off gold teeth in a maddeningly handsome way that always had you hoping and praying that he wouldn’t notice the way your cheeks sometimes flushed. He never seemed to care, as he never made any other moves. Maybe he was under strict orders not to fuck with--or just plain fuck---you, or maybe he legitimately didn’t want to. 

You didn’t know why you had started to care so much. 

You didn’t know about the way he watched your ass when you walked away from him, or the lewd way he sometimes palmed himself right out in the open. You never heard his pants and moans as he got off to the thought of you wrapped around him, and you never got to hear your name rolling off his tongue as he spilled into his hand, hips rocking of their own accord. 

Yeah, Zsasz was pretty much head over heels. He was fucked. 

He didn’t know why he liked you so much. There was just something about you, something about the way you walked and talked that always made his cock hard. He had reached the point where you would enter a room, and his pants would grow tight. Did you even know? Could you possibly fathom the torture you were putting him through every single day in Roman’s penthouse? Zsasz wanted to grab you and bend you over something, anything, hike that cute little skirt up and just go to town on your cunt. He dreamed about it at night, he wanted it, he craved the taste of your pussy...

But he couldn’t have it. 

Not yet. 

He would wait. He could be patient. After all, Roman came first. Roman always came first. Zsasz needed to focus on keeping his boss calm and happy, and he couldn’t afford to get distracted, no matter how much he wanted to press you up against the windows and fuck you so that the entire East End could see who you belonged to. 

No matter how badly he wanted it, Zsasz would wait. 

#victor zsasz #victor zsasz x reader #zsasz x reader #bop zsasz #birds of prey zsasz #birds of prey imagine #birds of prey x reader #roman sionis #dceu #dc imagines