#like with lu ten and whatever. Because i need a foot on his neck so fucking bad

[mugentakeda]

omg are u an iroh hater?? IROH HATERS UNITEE i hate that old man

well. i am an iroh hater. but also its actually that iroh is one of my favorite characters of all time. however comma i specifically like iroh because hes a moderate to severe piece of shit and a medium bad uncle. i love how he has a “facade” to dismantle. i love how he has traits outside of being zukos uncle while at the same time the way he parents zuko is obviously connected to the kind of guy he is and the way his stupid brain works. i dont think iroh would be half as memorable as a character as he is if he was truly just the do gooding all wise old man that people perceive him as.

i hate how the writers and fandom treat him like a hoity toity paragon of virtue that was done wrong by zuko and azula and whatever as if hes not a grown ass man thats done everything they did in canon but probably several times over and maybe even worse because hes like. in his 50s-60s and the siege of ba sing se is definitely not the only thing on his track list. i believe in elder abuse when its iroh i think azula shooting him in the chest was frankly hilarious and i think zuko turning on iroh for azula was something iroh had no right to be surprised by and i also think he owed zuko an apology in turn during sozins comet.

i like how hypocritical he is. i like how he continuously misunderstands zuko. i like how even after his so called spiritual journey or whatever that he still sometimes fails to recognize his own behavior and it in turn negatively effects his relationship with zuko because he keeps pushing morals and ideals onto zuko, when he doesnt even fully adhere to those morals and ideals himself. i like how he hates azula despite the facts that 1. shes 14 2. ozai is her dad 3. shes literally his mini me in so many ways. hes elusive and wobbly with morals when he really shouldnt be considering hes trying to nurture the most unstable teenage boy in the whole world.

but like at the same time i also deeply love zuko and azula so i get deeply frustrated with him on their behalf. everytime i watch book three and analyze his and zukos interactions i wanna bang my head against a wall until i die

#am i making sense here. id hate to call him my blorbo because that word makes me want to kms #but like. thats how i hate him. i recognize his behaviors #and like in an ironic way i think its funny but like. Really i dont #and thats why i always put emphasis on his bad actions in my aus #like with lu ten and whatever. Because i need a foot on his neck so fucking bad #like i need him to get his just desserts i need him to get popped in the mouth dude. #i wanna put him in a fucking hydraulic press and then throw him off a cliff. on fire. #asks

[mamanabeille]

I Don't Want to Be Reasonable

This week's @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers sprint fic. I chose the "If we both want to fit, we will have to cuddle" prompt.

“I’m going to kill her,” Luka all but growls under his breath as they stare at the single bed in the center of the room that seemed to be taunting him. He should have known. He shouldn't have expected anything less from his conniving little sister and her soon to be wife.

Juleka and Rose were getting married the next day in the little inn that Rose had fallen in love with when Juleka booked it for their first vacation away together years before. It was tiny, but somehow seemed to perfectly mesh together the two of their personalities and neither could imagine being wed anywhere else. So when they had asked Luka if he minded sharing a room with Marinette, due to a lack of enough rooms for the wedding party to each have their own, he had willingly agreed without so much of a second thought. He would do anything for the two women. He loved them both larger than life, even if in this exact moment he was fighting the urge to tear the mickey out of them… and himself for not catching on sooner. When she asked, he assumed she meant sharing an actual room… not the bed.

“So,” Marinette breaks the silence hesitantly as she looks around the tiny room, her cheeks flushed a light pink. “I’ll go back to the front desk and make sure they gave us the right room or if there’s another.” She knows it’s pointless, but she feels like she should at least offer to try.

“There isn’t,” Luka sighs, setting his bag down and taking Marinette’s off her shoulder to do the same. “They’ve booked up the whole inn.”

“I know,” Marinette nods, her voice seeming to catch in her throat. She was the one that unintentionally offered to bunk with Luka when Rose had called in tears because there just weren’t enough rooms for anyone and no other local hotels. Marinette had suggested some of the wedding party sharing rooms, not thinking in the moment that she and Luka were the only members of the party that were still single and not sharing a room with their spouses and families.

“I’ll take the floor,” Luka offers. “Or I’ll crash with Ding and Bri.”

“You will not,” she protests, glaring up at him as if he’d personally offended her. “This is the first time they’ve gotten a night away from the baby. I’m also not letting you sleep on the floor the night before your sister’s wedding. That’s absurd, for one. Besides, you get grumpy when you don’t sleep well and you will not be a grouch on their day. We are grown adults, Luka. We are more than capable of sharing a bed for a few nights.” She makes her way over to the full size bed, and plops down, patting the spot next to her as if to prove a point, even though her voice catches a little on the last few words.

Luka feels his face and neck burn hot, pushing out the thought of sharing a bed with her in a very adult way. He knows that wasn’t what she meant. That’s not what they are. They are friends. Good friends. Best friends. Best friends that both have feelings for each other, but just friends. Period. They had to be. Still, something in her phrasing, and the fact that he’d been in love with her for as long as he could remember, sends images of leaning her back against the pillows and kissing her senseless until neither of them could breath. He shakes the images away and takes a deep breath before walking over to the foot of the bed, but not laying down next to her. “Marinette. I could barely fit in the bed on my own,” he chuckles weakly, trying to keep his tone light. The woman frowns and glances between him and the bed, taking in his over six foot stature. “Well,” she offers up slowly with a growing little grin. “If we both want to fit, we will just have to cuddle.” She holds her breath as she locks eyes with him. Usually it takes a few glasses of alcohol to get her to flirt openly with the man, but something is different tonight. She knows she shouldn’t be playing this game with him. It always ends with one of them hurt and wanting more, usually both of them if she’s being honest with herself. She can’t seem to stop herself though. “Come cuddle, Lu? Please...” Waiting for his response seems to last an eternity. She watches Adam's apple bob as he nearly choked on his words, and her sudden burst of confidence falters. “You're killing me,” he groans, sinking down on the bed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and bury his face in his hands, his fingers tangling into his hair. “You’re supposed to be the reasonable one here, Nette.” Marinette smirks, and slinks down the bed to wrap her arms around his middle, resting her chin on his shoulder as she curls around him. “I don’t want to be tonight. I’m always the rational one.” “Because they are your reasons. Our schedules are still crazy. We are rarely even in the same hemisphere We are too important to each other to fuck this up.” He says the words as much to himself as her, but she can feel his posture softening under her. “Fuck, Nette. We can't do this,” he huffs out, straightening up slowly to not knock her off the edge, and gestures between the two of them. “And just expect for everything to stay the same.” “I know,” she nods softly, turning her eyes downward to where her hands were now slowly twiddling in her lap. The two of them sit in a strained silence for a few minutes, backs barely brushing against one another. Luka lets out a few audible deep breaths, trying to recompose himself, while Marinette bit her bottom lip trying to fight of the tears stinging her eyes. “I’m sorry,” Luka sighs, just as Marinette whispers out a barely there “I don’t want things to stay the same.” Luka’s head shoots up at her words, and he turns to face her so quickly she nearly does topple off the bed this time. His hand instinctively reaches out to steady her and he leaves it there grasping her arm as if she’s his only life line. “What?” he questions, his eyes begging her to repeat the words, praying to whatever gods would listen that he heard her correctly. Marinette looks up at him, just as vulnerable and swallows down the nerves that are stuck in her throat. “I don’t want things to stay the same anymore. I know they’re my reasons. I know I’ve always been the one that’s pushed back against us for so long. I know that it’s probably not fair for me to be saying any of this, especially not right now, but I’m tired of fighting it, Lu. I want you. I want us, and I know it’s going to be hard with how crazy our lives are, but I lov-” Luka cuts her off, capturing her lips with his own, pouring every ounce of love, longing, and joy he can into the kiss. It’s like opening the floodgates after years, and built up tension and desperation deeps the kiss. When neither can resist the need to breathe any longer, and they slowly pull away from one another, he stays hovering over her, so close he

can feel her rapid breaths against his kiss bruised lips. Her expression falls and she catches her bottom lip in her teeth again. “I’m scared, Luka,” she whimpers. “What if we hurt each other?” “I’m not,” he whispers, afraid to ruin the moment he’s waited so long for. “I’m willing to do whatever is needed to make sure we work, Marinette.” He pulls back just enough so that he can look her directly in the eyes a little easier. “I think if we’re being honest with ourselves, we’ve been hurting each other but not giving us a chance.” Marinette lets out a shaking breath and nods. Luka presses a soft kiss to her lips before rolling over next to her. She doesn’t hesitate to curl into his side, resting her face against his chest. His arm wraps around her, and he places a soft kiss to her head. Her fingers lightly trace up and down his arm, down his chest, over his torso then back. They stay there in each other's embrace, stealing little kisses, a few giggles and declarations of love until there’s a knock at the door reminding them the rehearsal dinner had started ten minutes ago.

Luka decides to ignore the blatant smirk of a compliment on his sister’s face once the two of them do make it to dinner, hand in hand with matching lovestruck grins.

#lukanette endgame #lukanette #lbsc sprint fic challenge #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #mamanabeille

[sugar-petals]

Cuddling With SuperM

↳ ❤︎ CARO’S NOTE: their concept is all about badassery i know but we’re dealing with seven angels so let’s talk about that shall we

warnings ⚠️ some light teasing, innuendo

length: 1.5k

taeyong

am i really telling you something ground-breaking with this:

so this guy’s truly adorable

turns into a baby what else is new

draws his knees to his chest and just enjoys the ride with his eyes closed

you can do whatever the hell you want

back rubs, head pats, foot massages, caressing the neck or underneath the chin which is particularly sweet

and a whole lot of tickling he’s kinda obsessed with this

excellent chef he is, taeyong enjoys preparing snacks for a set cuddling time or movie night

so what if this turns into feeding each other basically are you ready for that

this guy’s impossible face up close is hard to bear for the faint-hearted just mentioning that in passing here

because… he has that one yearning expression and his eye contact is very steady

bit of a duality here huh

but worry not because taeyong’s tiger inside is more of a cat actually, tyongkitty behavior guaranteed right there

he does do friendly head buts and yeah the eye contact is also a cat thing now that i think about it… it all makes sense now

ten, baekhyun, lucas and taemin are pretty cocky types of cuddlers, taeyong leads the more subdued fraction in super m

it’s the kind of cuddling that needs rainy weather and a cup of tea

ten

quality time right here

banter is always included ofc

or at least a lot of talk because with ten, conversation and cuddles go together

likes pets joining, three’s a party, a cat can always make a snuggly contribution

add a ball of wool to play around

like. a-you, a-me, and a cat right in between ya see

music is always playing in the background, always

ten’s body is very sensual… you can tell he’s a dancer by the way he’s adapting, how he’s feeling it, how he moves in general

the reflexes are just so different he has great feeling for what you wanna do next it’s his bodily intuition and he just goes along with it

what you gotta tell him though is to keep it lowkey with keeping his jazzy outfits on

a hoodie cuddles better than high fashion and spiked jackets

plus he looks adorably small in it so two birds with one stone

never forget ten is really tiny that sure makes a difference

reluctant little spoon, he keeps it face-to-face or sleeps on his back

ten is glad to be approached with hugs he’s not always doing the initiative

shy thailand angel ikr

but don’t complain if he farts because he absolutely will

goddammit chittaphon

kai

if it’s without a plushie something’s going wrong it always needs one

his favorite teddy’s gotta participate y’know he’s a social creature

in this home we don’t discriminate against plush bears

and yeah, his bear ear hoodie likewise he is sure to put it on

jongin tends to be rather taciturn because he wants to enjoy the body-to-body sensations

meaning, don’t interpret his frequent silence as awkwardness he’s just observing

is not above teasing… if his outfit is showing some skin he’ll invite you to touch the area

also enjoys you putting your hands under his sweater

he’s laughing like crazy and kicking his legs all giggly if you put your head underneath it and let it roam oh la la

yeah nini likes some wit to it for sure, and some steaminess in the mix it’s just a natural byproduct if we’re honest

dim the lights down low for this one…

but also light the candles alright

cuddling is more of a soft and steady thing there’s not much position changes going on

this is the couch not the dancefloor your honor

while we’re talking about that: jongin is a buff biatch my god

prep a water bottle to chug when you’re cuddling this guy is effortlessly hot

also know that kai will almost definitely snap a picture of you huddled together for the memory of it

baekhyun

unlike his memes, baekhyun’s cuddling behaviour is entirely predictable

will snuggle against your shoulder by default pretty much that’s his favorite area

stays glued there for two hours if you’re not busy

im not kidding

needless to say he needs a partner who can handle this level of clinginess

baekhyun can’t keep his hands to himself in general

neither can you

it’s groping x cuddling these two are a dead sure combination

keen to snuggle casually while he’s gaming, cross-legged on the ground with you massaging his back

likes to lay his head into your lap, too.

baekhug i mean back hug enthusiast. something inside his face has an inbuilt magnet that sucks him into the space between your collar bones

especially when you’re at the stove cooking

caution: love bites. lots of them. does this count as cuddles? probably. it’s not like he’s eating you or is he. oop—

what am i saying all he does is nibble alright

and oh yeah bring on the sweater weather. he can’t stay still in bed it’s gonna be a pillowfort building session though

you gotta exhaust him until he naps off lmao!

energizer bunny bf

mark

enjoys being fed watermelon during the process how else could it be

wait until this guy hears what harry styles’ watermelon sugar is all about his world will never be the same again

anyway

he’ll look so cute in his striped shirt and his round glasses awh

cuddling is his favorite way to show his trust and affection before all else

his favorite time to cuddle is before going to sleep

he usually hugs pillows so you can tell how clingy he winds up as

mark really sleeps and dreams better if you do that it has an astounding effect. cuddles are his perfect recharging if you will it’s just that he’s actually calming down through it whereas he can be nervous throughout the day so he needs that downtime

spooning is a given

what he enjoys the most about it is the warmth

markie easily gets cold sometimes he just needs that tune-up with you he’s like blink blink there goes my dose of daily heat beep beep

what the fuck

anyway again

talk about tune

just like ten he’s very talkative all the way verbal stimulation and mark lee just go together

if you compare him to taeyong there’s not much of a transformation going on mark lee on two legs is the same mark lee during cuddles it’s all copy paste

all in all a delectable experience, extremely cute and heart-melting, super m truly has a super mark

taemin

much like xuxi he has that permanent smile on his lips that tries to make you laugh

in fact taemin is hard to stop with his puns and his humor

ffs he is a true brat

taems can’t help but try to escalate this into a playfight every time

not that he doesn’t enjoy the calmer types of cuddling but he needs some action in the sack

enjoys praise along the way who are we kidding

the clothes you both cuddle in are very important alright, the fabric in particular

taemin keeps it expensive here it’s just the way he rolls

satin my dear

it’s just so satisfying to the touch

but also beware of his most lethal clothing choice which brings out his innate maknae charm the most

THE FLUFFY TURTLENECK

gyeahh

which he will use during special occasions to turn you into a cuddle monster ready to pounce him

give it up for shinee my loves they taught him well and sent him out to fluff up the world

what else is there okay we also gotta mention that cuddling consists of many little kisses here and there

taemin wants to get absolutely peppered

he is and stays a prince

lucas

ideal body type for cuddling except that it needs the right place, not the environment but the spot i mean, you can imagine

lucas can explode any smol-size couch or bed

don’t even think about trying to cuddle on regular chairs my god why would you live so dangerously

king size por favor

there is a lot to cuddle against it’s really a whole wonderland

those big ole thighs are practical cushions for anything really.

and his face is just so amicable it has to be kithed

his hands… his hands! you will feel maximum protection with those giant baby fingers around your hips i’m telling you

admittedly yukhei is hard to properly hug around the shoulders obviously that’s a drawback but hey his waist is lithe and tiny so hello there, very inviting

oh, that infectious smile.

serious cuddling: 0 — funny cuddles: over 9,000

and tasty cuddles because foodcas brings some fried rice every time oh yum

hates to go to work he really prioritizes you and cuddles go on for long long hours especially when you watch your favorite series

xuxi goes the extra mile, he will touch your hair a lot, just gently combing through it

and he doesn’t mind it when you do the same, he’s got the most angelic blonde locks after all

lu calls you beautiful all the time the cheesy mf is really pulling the standard compliment alright

cue jonas brothers sucker for you

ugh, boyfriend

mlist

#super m #superm #superm hc #superm scenarios #super m x reader #superm fluff #super m imagines #kai #lucas #baekhyun #taemin #taeyong #mark #ten

[silverlightqueen]

Mischief Managed: Riddikulus

Across the United Kingdom, millions of children attend school every day, studying Maths, English and Science, but deep in the Scottish Highlands, a lucky thousand schoolkids get to study Potions, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Whilst the rest of us learn names like Shakespeare, Avogadro and Fibonacci, they learn names like Goshawk, Bagshot and Scamander. Whilst we learn how to do algebra, how to analyse poems and how photosynthesis works, they learn how correctly use a Conjuring Spell, how to brew a Draught of Living Death and how to fly a Nimbus 2000. And naturally, school children will always find a way to misbehave, to get up to no good, to make mischief, but when you add spells, potions and magic into the mix? Let’s just say... they get up to more than just mischief. Welcome to Hogwarts.

hogwarts!au, ot7 x y/n - comedy

Rating: PG15 (brief mention of sex and genitalia, profanity)

Word Count: 3k+

a/n: check the masterlist before you read!! here is the first instalment of my new hogwarts drabble series called Mischief Managed! I really hope y’all enjoy this, lmk what you think and hmu if you wanna be on the taglist! x

silverlightqueen masterlist

Riddikulus (Boggart Banishing Spell)

Type: Charm

Pronunciation: rih-dih-KUL-lus

Description: A spell used when fighting a Boggart, "Riddikulus" forces the Boggart to take the appearance of an object the caster is focusing on. Best results can be achieved if the caster is focusing on something humorous, with the desire that laughter will weaken the Boggart

Etymology: Latin word ridiculus, "laughable" (but perhaps "absurd" or "silly" in this context)

Notes: The effect of the spell seems to rely primarily on the state of mind of the caster. It doesn't actually change the shape of a boggart into something humorous, but rather whatever the caster is concentrating on at the moment of the casting, as when Neville was thinking of his grandmother's dress. Presumably, Mrs Weasley couldn't take her mind off of her fears for her family, so the Boggart was changed into other members of the family rather than something humorous

‘Good morning, students,’ Professor Lupin’s clear and calm voice echoes through the classroom, cutting all conversation short as we look up at the newest teacher to take on the ill-fated role of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. ‘Good morning, Professor,’ we chorus back, watching as he walks down the steps, his dark brown robes billowing out behind him.

The second his foot touches the floor, the wardrobe in the centre of the room shakes, all of us jumping at the sudden noise. We watch as it continues shaking sporadically, its short wooden legs colliding with the worn floor, the noise echoing around the room.

‘Intriguing, isn’t it?’ Professor Lupin asks into the silence, all of us still and watching, waiting for the wardrobe to move again. ‘Would anybody like to venture a guess… as to what is inside?’ Lupin drawls, his words met with a few moments of silence before Kim Namjoon raises a hand. ‘Is it a boggart, Sir?’ he asks, a smile breaking across Lupin’s tired face. ‘Very good, Mr Kim. Can anybody tell me what a boggart looks like?’ ‘No one knows. Boggarts are shapeshifters. They take the shape of whatever a person fears most. That’s what makes them so…’ Jeon Jungkook trails off, face serious as he looks to Professor Lupin who nods and finishes the sentence for him; ‘so terrifying, yes, Mr Jeon.’

I feel a pair of hands land heavily on my shoulders, making me jump in shock, and I turn to give Park Jimin a dirty look for taking advantage of the tension in the air, the boy giving me a mischievous grin in return. ‘Luckily, a very simple charm exists to repel a boggart. Let’s practice it now – without wands, please,’ Lupin says, everyone freezing with their hands halfway into their robes, hands falling back to our sides. ‘After me. Riddikulus!’ he says with his chin jutted out, enunciation clear and loud. Everybody repeats after him, a loud chorus of ‘Riddikulus’ ringing out into the air, but I feel a little stupid to do so, and so do the other Slytherins around me, it seems – there is silence from our corner of the group.

‘Very good. A little louder and clearer this time, please, and can we have our dear Slytherins joining in too?’ Lupin says with an amused glance over at us, the rest of the class turning to look too, and promptly looking away when Min Yoongi pushes himself away from the wall, daring them to say something. ‘Listen. Riddikulus!’ Lupin says, and I push down my pride to join the others in repeating after him, ‘Riddikulus!’ ‘This class is ridiculous,’ I hear Jimin muttering behind me, our friendship group stifling our laughs with the sleeves of our robes.

‘Very good. So much for the easy part. You see, the incantation alone is not enough. What really finishes a boggart is laughter. You need to force it to assume a shape you find truly amusing,’ Lupin explains, and despite myself, I’m intrigued to see one of these boggarts in action. ‘Let me show you an example. Hoseok, would you join me, please?’ he says, turning his kind smile to one of my (only) friends in Hufflepuff house. The Hufflepuffs generally aren’t that bad, definitely more bearable than the know-it-all Ravenclaws, though even they’re easy to deal with than the Gryffindors, with their stupid bravery and lack of self-preservation.

Jung Hoseok looks like he might wet himself, his usual sunny persona disappearing and replaced by a pale face and scared wide eyes. ‘Come on, don’t be shy,’ Lupin prompts, and Hoseok’s friends push him forward, the boy stumbling towards the wardrobe. ‘Now, don’t tell us aloud, but just have a think about some of the things that frighten you the most, so you can prepare yourself for the boggart,’ Lupin says kindly, Hoseok nodding nervously as another Hufflepuff, Kim Taehyung, whispers, ‘we’ll be stood here all day; he’s scared of everything.’ Giggles ripple around the room as Lupin leaves Hoseok to think over his fears and comes to stand in front of us.

‘The thing you must remember about boggarts is that they will transform into your worst fear. Some of you may not even know what that is – we’re all scared of bugs and heights and things like that, but what about the things we don’t think about or encounter regularly? There is no way of knowing what your boggart will turn into, because we all have more than one fear, so make sure you are thoroughly prepared to use the incantation as soon as you face the boggart. Understood?’ Lupin says seriously, a shiver running through me as we all nod – no one’s laughing anymore.

‘Right, Hoseok. Are you ready? Have you had a think?’ Lupin calls to the Hufflepuff boy, who nods reluctantly, gulping. ‘Here we go then, wand at the ready. One… two… three!’ Lupin says, waving his wand at the wardrobe, which creaks opens slowly. We all crane our necks to see what’s in there, but it’s dark and there’s nothing to be seen. Hoseok looks like he might faint, the hand holding his wand shaking. And then we hear it; a little hiss.

Before anyone can register it, a snake is slithering out of the darkness of the wardrobe, thick, green and black, leaving a trail of slime behind it as it glides across the floor towards Hoseok, who’s frozen in terror, watching its forked tongue poke out from its mouth, letting out loud and threatening hisses. ‘Think, Hoseok, think,’ Lupin prompts, and the boy seems to wake up, nodding as he lets out a meek, ‘Riddikulus!’ It works, though, and suddenly the snake is transforming into a balloon, the kind that entertainers make at children’s parties, Lupin swiftly grabbing onto the string it’s attached to before it can float up to the ceiling.

‘Are you trying to send us a message, Hobi?’ Yoongi calls to the Hufflepuff, the boy looking considerably less scared as he turns to us with a smile. ‘Yeah. Anyone’d think you’re just as scared of us,’ I grin, the boy laughing. ‘You guys aren’t anywhere near as scary as real snakes.’ ‘Yeah? I’ll show you scary,’ Jimin says threateningly, a small smile on his face, and Hobi rolls his eyes amusedly, grinning as Lupin watches our exchange with interest.

‘Wonderful, Hoseok, fantastic job. Now, can we form a line?’ he says, our classmates sprinting to the front of the line before he can even finish speaking, and I roll my eyes at their eagerness. ‘Come on,’ Jimin says, hooking his arms through mine and Yoongi’s, dragging us towards the middle of the line. Our classmates move out of the way for us, and I thank them with a smile, Yoongi and Jimin exchanging an amused glance; they always tease me for being nice to people, saying it’s unlike a Slytherin, but I beg to differ – I’d say it’s very Slytherin to be nice to people, knowing that being nice gets people to like you, do things for you. The typical Slytherin way is to get people to fear you, but I’d prefer them to love me – it’s better to have people willing to do things for you, though I guess a little bit of fear doesn’t hurt every now and then. I think I’ve found a good balance between the two.

‘You Slytherins. Think too much of yourselves to rush into the queue, and then push in front of everyone else,’ Kim Seokjin says from where he’s stood in front of us with Hobi and Namjoon, the three of them turning to us with big grins. ‘Shut it, Kim,’ Yoongi says with a grin, holding out a fist for the three of them to bump theirs’ against. Jin’s a Gryffindor, one of the very few of them that I can stand to be around for longer than ten seconds, and Jungkook is another, simply because I’ve never laughed more at anyone than I have at those two when they’re together. They’re like a slapstick comedy duo, and I guess they can be nice, sometimes. Considering we’re in different houses, we actually spend a fair bit of time together – maybe too much time. We share nearly all our classes, and Jungkook’s on Gryffindor’s Quidditch team so I see him at practices and at matches, and we all sit together in the Great Hall from time to time, with Hoseok, Taehyung and Namjoon too.

Namjoon’s a Ravenclaw, and it shows in lessons. Outside of lessons, though? It’s a wonder he's still alive, if I’m being completely honest. The boy is clumsier than anyone I’ve ever met. But he’s kind, and you can actually have an intellectual conversation with him – intellect is something they have in common with us Slytherins. The school’s all about ‘interhouse relationships’ and ‘Hogwarts unity’, and they’re always pushing that stupid agenda onto us, so we’ve got a few friends from other houses – not many though. We Slytherins are an exclusive people.

‘God, Taehyung must have run to get to the front,’ Jimin says, all of us turning to look where he stands in front of Professor Lupin, wand at the ready, face determined. Lupin releases the balloon, the room falling silent as we all watch with interest, wondering what Taehyung’s worst fear is going to be. The boggart turns and spins in the air, a big blur before him, and we all wait with bated breath. And then it turns into Taehyung. ‘He’s scared of himself?’ Hobi asks, all of us looking at each other in confusion. Before we notice that the boggart Taehyung is… morphing before our eyes. His back becomes hunched, his skin sagging and taking on a leathery texture, his healthy dark curls greying and thinning, strands of it actually falling to the floor, his broad and strong body becoming shrivelled and small, and when he smiles, his sparkling perfect white teeth yellow completely and some of them fall out, leaving atrocious gaps. He’s aging.

‘Oh, my God,’ Taehyung whispers, face covered with horror, and we all burst out laughing. His worst fear is aging. As though he can’t bear to look at himself like that again, he calls out the incantation, waving his wand, and the old (ugly) boggart Taehyung becomes a younger, more handsome Taehyung, not like the one we know now – more like a Taehyung in his mid-20s. He’s so handsome I feel myself swooning a little, Yoongi side-eyeing me amusedly as I rub at my nose, trying to cover how much my face has heated up. All of the girls and some of the boys are just as flustered as me, and now Taehyung looks pretty impressed with the effect that handsome boggart Taehyung is having on us all.

He makes his way over to us with a grin, and I instantly shake off my flustered state, rolling my eyes at his smug face. ‘D’you see how handsome he was? I’m betting I’ll look like that in ten years’ time,’ he says proudly, the boys all exchanging amused glances. ‘y/n’ll happy then,’ Jin says with a grin to me, and I nudge him with a scowl, Tae raising an eyebrow at me. ‘Don’t, Tae, I swear, I’ll hex you,’ I say warningly, brandishing my wand at him, and he just holds his hands up, grinning smugly. ‘You’re scared of aging?’ Namjoon asks the question we’re all wondering, and Tae sighs with a roll of his eyes. ‘I’m scared of aging badly. I want to still be handsome and… use my body properly when I’m old,’ he says with a smirk, the double entendre plain, and I can’t help but scowl at him when he turns his amused eyes to me. ‘Please never talk about wanting to still be able to have sex when you’re old. I don’t want to ever picture old you with your dick out,’ I say bitingly, everyone laughing, including Tae, as we picture the boggart we just saw attempting to have sex. I shudder, shaking away the thought.

‘Look, look, it’s Jeon’s turn,’ Namjoon says, our attention turning to the front where Jungkook’s stood in front of Lupin, who holds Jennie’s boggart in his hands – it was a load of bugs before, but she turned them into dumplings. ‘Ready, Jungkook?’ Lupin asks, the boy nodding, before Professor Lupin throws the dumplings up in the air, and they stay up there, slowly transforming into Jungkook’s boggart. It drops to the floor once it’s transformed, and I crane my neck to see what it is, only able to see flashes of metal here and there, my peers all in the way. ‘What the fuck is that?’ Jimin demands, and when I catch sight of it, I burst out laughing, Tae, Jimin and Hobi not understanding why me, Jin, Namjoon and Yoongi are practically wetting ourselves with laughter.

‘What is it?’ Tae demands, but none of us are in any state to answer him, Jin rolling on the floor as Namjoon clutches at his stomach, Yoongi’s shoulders shaking as tears run down my face, our laughter echoing around the room. By the time I’ve managed to compose myself, Jungkook’s turned his boggart into a small bonfire, which Professor Lupin is attempting to contain so that it doesn’t set fire to the entire classroom, which is all made out of wood, by the way (I know the school’s old, but it really wouldn’t kill them to do a little refurbishment).

Jungkook makes his way over to us, looking sheepish when he sees the way we’re laughing at him. ‘Don’t laugh – I’m genuinely terrified of them,’ he says embarrassedly, setting us off again, and the three purebloods in our friendship group don’t look too impressed at being left out of the joke. ‘What was it?’ Hobi asks, and Jungkook sighs. ‘A microwave,’ he says quietly, the four of us being hit with another wave of laughter. ‘Why… the fuck… are you scared… of microwaves?’ Jin demands between laughs, and Jungkook looks at his feet, face red. ‘I always have been. They could just blow up at any moment,’ he says in a small voice, and as much as I do feel for him, I cannot stop laughing.

‘Sorry, hold on, I hate to interrupt you muggles and your little inside joke, but what the fuck is a… microwave?’ Jimin demands, and we all shoot him dirty looks. ‘We’re not muggles, Jimin, don’t say that again. We’re just as much wizards as you are,’ I say coldly, and he holds his hands up apologetically. ‘I know, sorry, you know I don’t mean it,’ he says honestly, and I nod, biting back my annoyance. Jimin was raised in a pureblood household, as were Tae and Hobi, but neither of them had quite the upbringing that Jimin did. Slytherin pureblood families are… maybe the worst you can ever encounter – they’re proud, rich, privileged and thrive off their supposed ‘supremacy’. Jimin was always taught that purebloods were the only wizards that deserved to be wizards, that half-bloods were dirty half-breeds and that muggle-borns were an abomination to the wizarding race. Joining Hogwarts, he was exposed to more ‘dirty half-breeds’ and ‘abominations to the wizarding race’ than ever before, and he even became best friends with two half-bloods – myself, and Yoongi. He’s trying to eradicate the views that were instilled in him all his life, and I understand that he can’t help it sometimes, that the words come out before he can correct himself, but that doesn’t stop the way I get annoyed with him. The others control their anger better, and it surprises me sometimes, considering Jin and Namjoon are both muggle-born – I would think they’d get more annoyed than anyone, but they handle Jimin’s stupid comments well.

‘A microwave is an electronic kitchen appliance,’ Jungkook says, the three purebloods looking at him blankly, and he sighs. ‘It’s a machine that cooks food,’ he says simply, the four of us stifling our laughter. ‘So you’re not scared of… I don’t know, getting injured in a Quidditch match, or dementors, or even You-Know-Who, but you are scared of… a machine that cooks food?’ Tae asks, and Jungkook lets out an irritated noise. ‘They can blow up at any moment!’ he repeats, all seven of us bursting into laughter now, and Jungkook sulks for a few moments, his scowl quickly becoming a grin as he joins in with our laughter.

‘Right, students, I’m sorry but that is all we have time for today! Class dismissed! Lupin calls out amongst complaints and grumbles, but I’m secretly relieved; I’d rather not have everyone find out my deepest, darkest fear. We all head towards the door, Professor Lupin bidding us goodbye as we leave. ‘I wanted to find out your guys’ fears too,’ Jungkook says as we step into the corridor. ‘Why? Wondering one of us might be scared of an electrical appliance too? Maybe a fridge? Or an oven?’ Jin teases, the boy shoving him. ‘You’re all teasing me, but Tae’s scared of getting old!’ ‘That’s nowhere near as bad as being scared of microwaves. What is scary about microwaves?’ ‘They can blow up at any moment!’

#ficswithluv #bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #btsgoldnet #bangtanidx #btspocnet #kwritersworldnet #btsghostie #bts #bts series #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts angst #bts comedy #bts smut #bts ot7 #bts au #bts imagines #bts hogwarts au #hogwarts au #bts drabble #bts drabbles

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

Baby Take a Bow - Part 1

The crew was alerted to the presence of native life by Lucretia’s shout. Immediately Magnus tore from where they were exploring the Starblaster’s surroundings to follow the noise.

Lup grabbed her wand and dashed after him. Another plane, another unknown world to explore. They’d been scouting the forest-covered world for a few days before setting the Starblaster down on one clearing one crisp morning. After a careful inspection, the forest had seemed to pose no threat, so the party had disbanded to go about their various duties. Lucretia, Magnus and Lup were taking a break outside and checking out the nearby river when Lucretia must have wandered away from the group, because her cry had sounded from deeper in the forest.

Lup burst through the trees to find Lucretia pinned to a bunch of roots, struggling against the sticky webs that held her down. Lup aimed her umbrastaff to shoot off a spell to free her.

“No, I’m fine!” Lucretia called. “I can get myself out. Go after Magnus, he followed it over there, I can’t see them anymore.”

Lup hesitated. Lucretia jerked her head towards a thick cluster of trees, and Lup made her decision, spinning to run in the direction Lucretia indicated. There were crashing sounds through the trees and as she drew nearer, a sizzling crack that made the trees tremble and the hairs on Lup’s arms stand on end.

“Magnus!” She shoved through a curtain of hanging vines. There was a Magnus-coloured shape sprawled on the ground nearby, tangled in roots with a figure crouching nearby. Lup aimed and blasted Ray of Frost at the creature. “Get off him!”

The creature – an elf maybe, it was hard to tell with all the camouflage paint and leaves stuck to their skin – let out a yelp and staggered back. Lup prepared a magic missile.

“Er-” The elf ducked behind a tree, the tip of one ear just poking out. Not the most threatening entity they’d come across. Lup didn’t take her eyes off them.

“Magnus, are you okay?”

“Mmph.” Magnus said eloquently. Lup narrowed her eyes and stepped slowly towards the camouflaged elf. They peeked nervously around the tree trunk. They didn’t look malevolent. Just scared.

“Hi.” Lup hesitated. “Look, are you gonna try to kill me and my pals? Because you look like a cool dude and I don’t wanna fight you. Sorry for trespassing or whatever. I think we got off on the wrong foot here, my name’s Lu-”

The crashing of footsteps made Lup’s ear twitch. The elf made a break for it. Lup lunged after them but they cast a quick spell and were gone in a Blink. Lup sighed and glanced around as Lucretia ran up, panting and sticky with some kind of glue.

“Don’t stress, they’re gone. Did they attack you, Luce?”

“I don’t think so.” Lucretia scanned the greenery. “They gave me a fright, but I think I scared them too. They shot me with that web and ran when Magnus chased after them.”

Oh yeah, Magnus. Lup tucked away her umbrastaff and picked her way over to the still-sprawled warrior to check on him. Except… the closer she got, the smaller he seemed. Almost drowning in his clothes. And… young.

“Hey babe, you good?” Lup called. The child who sat, blinking, where Magnus had been tipped his head curiously.

Child-Magnus had none of adult-Magnus’s scars. Tanned brown skin once littered with receipts from costly fights was now smooth and unmarred. His clothes swamped his small, chubby frame. The trademarked sideburns were gone too and auburn hair stuck up around his freckled face as he stared at them owlishly.

“Hi?” He said, voice high and curious.

“Uh, hi?” Lucretia echoed. Child-Magnus’s face lit up with recognition.

“Cree! And Lulu!”

Lup laughed nervously. “Yeeeeeah. Magnus, sweetheart, do you mind telling me where you think you are?”

Magnus frowned in thought. Shit, he was adorable when his lip pouted out like that. Lup padded over to crouch next to him and his face cleared as he beamed up at her.

“A forest! I think, because there’s lotsa trees?”

Shuffling as Lucretia joined them. Lup shot her a puzzled look and Lucretia returned it.

“Do you think it’s a spell?” Lucretia offered.

“It’s gotta be.” Lup confirmed. “I didn’t see the elf curse him though, I came after that. I can’t think of any spells that would do this. Maybe it’ll wear off?”

“Maybe.” Lucretia’s brow furrowed. Lup turned back to tiny Magnus who was busy trying to lift his axe, which was as tall as him. She yelped and snatched the weapon from his hands.

“Nope! No blades for the baby!”

Magnus pouted, making Lucretia laugh softly.

“We should get back to the ship and give everyone an update.” Lucretia suggested. Yeah, probably important. Lup nodded.

“Maggie, we’re gonna go home, okay?”

“Home?” Magnus’s head tipped, reminiscent of a confused puppy.

“The ship.”

“Oh!” He jumped up with a bright smile. “The ship! That’s where Dav and Merle and everyone else is, right?”

“Right.” Lup confirmed. She cast a quick levitate spell on Magnus’s heavy gear and straightened. “Let’s go.”

Lucretia took hold of the floating weapons and started towards the ship. Lup followed and got about ten steps before realizing Magnus wasn’t behind her. She turned to find Magnus making grabby hands with a hopeful expression.

“…You wanna be carried?”

He jumped up and down. Lup laughed.

“Okay, fine, big boy. Hold on.” She bent down to scoop him up. She could maybe get used to this cute, fun-sized Magnus. He wrapped his chubby arms around her neck and laughed when Lup set him on her hip. Maybe she bounced and cooed a couple times to make him giggle. If so that was nobody’s business.

They met Barry inside, and he blinked a couple times. “Is that Magnus?”

“We met a local.” Lucretia explained. “Where’s Davenport? We need to debrief.”

#fic #my fic #my writing #taz #taz balance #the adventure zone

[imagines-dreams]

Beauty and the Spirit Part 3 - Zuko Imagine

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mentions of violence/war, cuz Fire Nation

Summary: Part 3 to Beauty and the Spirit (Part 2). You had run away from the castle ruins, away from the beast and his horrible temper. But the woods aren’t always kind.

Word Count: 1942

~ - ~

The winter was endless. You weren’t sure why, but you couldn’t seem to find your way out. You had been riding for at least an hour in one direction, but everything around you was still covered in snow. You groaned and stopped your horse. “Spirits,” you muttered. The logical thing to do is to go back to the castle of ruins and try to retrace your steps from the night before. 

But, you did not want to go back there. 

You sighed and dismounted. You needed to find another way to your friends. You searched your bag for anything that could help you. You smiled. There were a few snacks, obviously from Iroh’s tea cart, carefully wrapped and ready to eat. You sighed and searched. None of your inventions could help you, but your maps could. 

You pulled one out and tried to decipher where you were.

“Ah, finally.”

You froze. “Zhao,” you whispered. You whipped around and took out your one dagger. 

The esteemed general of the Fire Lord stood before you, about five or six guards behind him, ready to strike at a single command. “(Y/n), I didn’t expect to find you here.”

You gulped. There were too many of them. 

“Where’s the avatar?”

“No clue,” you admitted. “I feel like you know better at me at this point.”

He hummed. 

You scanned the soldiers around you. You wouldn’t be able to match them in skill. That’s for sure. You weren’t an amazing fighter like Sokka or a master bender like Katara. You knew the terrain slightly better. That was one thing you had on them. You still had a horse. It seems like they didn’t expect to run into anyone here, much less a friend of the avatar’s. Maybe you could outrun them. 

You just had to get enough time to get on your horse. 

“Keep her alive.”

You slashed the guy who came at you first. You grabbed your horse’s reins and mounted him quickly, kicking a soldier in the face in the process. You led your horse the way you came, firebending soldiers on your tail. 

You had no escape route. You vaguely recognized the terrain, but you knew one thing. If you never turned, then the Fire Nation soldiers would find the castle, the home of fatherly Iroh and sweet Ty Lee and Lu Ten and Mai and the beast. 

The beast, spirit, cursed, whoever he was, you didn’t care to be his friend, but nonetheless, you couldn’t live with yourself if you led these barbarians to him and his family. He may suck, but the Fire Nation was way worse. You swerved to your left and hoped to the spirits around you that somehow, someway, you could escape them. 

“Surrender peacefully!” Zhao offered. 

You and your horse only galloped faster. You had to get away from Zhao. You had to find somewhere safe. 

Fire exploded right in front of you. You horse reared back. You fell to the ground. Your head screamed in pain, and the silence was so loud. You closed your eyes. The ringing in your ears only grew.

“Surrender.”

You squinted, the white snow and cloudy sky too bright for your eyes. Zhao stood in the center of it all, his fist still smoking from his successful shot. You shook your head and grabbed your knife. 

“So be it.”

You struggled to get to your feet. The cold and slippery ground only made it worse. You fell to your knees once. Twice. You groaned and dug your blade into the ground and leaned art of your weight on it.

“It’s no fun when you can’t even stand, nonbender.”

Fire burst at your feet. You screamed and scrambled back. Your toes and part of your right heel were burnt. You couldn’t give up. If they had you in custody, Aang and Katara and Sokka, they’d have to get you. And you wouldn’t wish a rescue mission into Zhao’s clutches on your worst enemy. You couldn’t go down without a fight. You still had your dagger.

You threw your dagger at him.

Zhao easily dodged it, and it struck the ground with a dull thump. 

Your horse was too far, detained by soldiers. You had no weapons. You had injured feet. You had nothing.

A roar rocked the ground beneath you, and your muscles tensed. You recognized that roar. Chills ran and stuck to your spine like deadly ticks. You covered your head and threw yourself to the ground. 

The beast jumped right over you and growled at the soldiers. “This area is forbidden! Leave!”

The foot soldiers didn’t need any more warnings. They scampered away like scared little guppies. The general, however, only stared. “Impossible.”

The beast only sneered and pounced. Zhao dodged most of the attacks, his eyes still wide with shock. Then, his eyes narrowed, and fire erupted from his fists. 

The beast moved swiftly, avoiding most of the burns. When the fire singed his black attire and reached his chest, he roared again, and suddenly, something ignited within him. He fought harder and faster. He defended himself and attacked immediately afterward, his claws sinking into Zhao’s flesh. 

For the first few minutes, you admit, you were in awe of the man who imprisoned you. He was obviously trained. He was a bit impulsive in his fighting skills, but he was still talented. He knew how to spot weak spots and how to exploit them, and when it came to it, he knew how to use his energy wisely. 

But, you still needed to survive. So you crawled to your horse. When you stood up, your right foot whined in pain. You dug it into more snow and sighed. 

The beast was still fighting the general, and he was winning. 

Just as you grabbed the reins, Zhao was running away, screaming about how it wasn’t over. The beast heaved. His shoulders slouched, and he shivered in the cold. He turned to you, his eyes dull and his breaths terrifyingly slow. He smiled when his eyes met yours. His lips practically cracked his cheeks. It had been a while since he had smiled. 

Then, he collapsed.

You grimaced and stared at your horse. Your companion innocently stared back at you, nuzzling into your palm. You could easily leave. Maybe find your friends. Zhao and his soldiers were going to regroup and wait for their general to get well. You had the time. The beast was horrible to you. He imprisoned Aang, then you, treated you like an animal. You had every reason to leave. 

Still, the beast saved you. You had no clue why. It could’ve been because he didn’t like anyone on his property. It could’ve been that he knew Zhao. It could’ve been that he had nothing better to do. But you couldn’t leave him there. Zhao burned him. He needed help. 

“Sokka is going to kill me.” You limped over to him. “Please, you’re gonna have to help me out. I can’t lift you by myself.” You strained to support him on your shoulder. He was tired but awake, so he tried to walk to your horse. You draped him over the saddle. He blinked the fog from his eyes. “Your feet,” he whispered.

You scoffed. “You’ve got it worse.” And with that, you led your horse back to the castle.

~ - ~

You had a salve that would help with infections and bandages surround you. The fireplace was ablaze, keeping the room warm. After wrapped your feet, you sat on the bed and watched the sleepy beast. 

“Hey,” you said.

“Hm?”

“I need to remove your robes to tend to your wounds.”

He shook his head. 

You sighed. “It’s that or die of infection.” You reached out your hands.

He growled at you. 

“Stop that!”

“It won’t help!”

“Yes, it will!” You took a deep breath. “Look, you were burned by a high-ranking Fire Nation soldier. It’s bound to hurt. I can make it hurt less.”

He glared at you. “You won’t like what you see.”

You shook your head. “I’ve seen a lot of burns.”

“I’m not talking about the burns.”

You gulped. Oh. Right. For a moment, you forgot he was cursed. You glanced at the one white horn sprouting from his forehead and the blue spots still moving from his neck to his face to his ear to his scarred eye.  “You mean whatever cursed you, right?” 

You took his silence for a yes.  You bit your lip and admitted, “I’ve never encountered anyone like you.”

He bared his fangs and growled lowly.

You laughed. “Spirits, I’m not finished!” You sighed. “You are nothing like I’ve ever seen before and you’ve kidnapped me and my friend.” You took a deep breath. “But you’re also the one who saved me.” You smiled. “Now, please, can I help you?”

The beast grumbled, but still, he relented. He pulled down the blanket and you held in your gasp. The blue bruises migrated to his chest and stomach too.  There were so many of them.  He had one minor and one major burn from the encounter with Zhao. 

Still, his skin continued to shock you.

There was a flower, a fire lily, tattooed on his left hip. Like the moving blue bruises, the flower seemed to be alive as well. Mostly anyway. Its few remaining petals swayed with an imaginary wind. Even the fallen petals quivered in response.

“What are you staring at?” he snapped.

You jumped a little and smacked his leg. “Stop scaring me like that!”

“I wouldn’t need to scare you if you didn’t stare!”

You laughed. “It’s your fault for taking a fight to General Zhao.”

“Well, if you didn’t run away, I wouldn’t have to fight him to save your life.”

“You didn’t have to scare me out of the castle!” You crossed your arms and smiled. “Ha, I win.”

He grumbled. “Did not.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” You sighed and grinned. “Now, let’s take a look at those burns.”

The beast stayed quiet as you tended his wounds, only hissing and glaring when appropriate. Then, a miracle happened.

“I’m sorry.”

You froze. “What?” you asked softly.

“I’m sorry for treating you, and your friend… horribly.” He avoided your gaze. “No one deserves that.”

“You’re right.” You bit your lip as the air around the two of you grew tense with something you couldn’t quite put a finger on. The silence was too constricting and his wounds and the blue bruises were starting to swirl in your vision and so you broke the silence. “I was going to escape.” You gulped and stared at him, waiting for his anger to explode and preparing to defend yourself.

He just sighed. “I know.”

“You know?”

He shrugged. “I checked your room after you left. You have an… interesting way of planning an escape.”

You laughed lightly. “Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore.”

He blinked. “You’re not going to leave?”

“No.” You pointed to your feet. “Can’t ride properly with a burned foot. Mind if I stay here for a week or two?”

The corners of his lips twitched slightly, but he restrained himself. “Yes, I mind.”

“Good.” You laughed a little. “I enjoy annoying you.”

Just as your hand wrapped around the bandages, he interrupted, “I’m Zuko.”

You blinked a few times. “Zuko?”

“Yeah. That’s my name.”

“No, I mean, I know that’s what you were saying but…” You shook your head. “I swear I heard that name before.”

His face grew pale, and for a second or two, the blue spots froze in place. He gulped. “I get that a lot.”

~ - ~

Tags: @chims-kookies @lunashaw57

#atla #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #zuko oneshot #zuko fanfiction #atla x reader #atla oneshot #atla fanfiction #atla imagine #avatar the last airbender

[firelxrdsdaughter]

Beach Episode | Urzai Week Prompt 2

Urzai Week Prompt 2: Beach Episode

[Read it on A03]

The Month that Zuko is born, Ozai buys her a house.

Ursa

.

Ember Island, August, year 3

The month that Zuko is born, Ozai buys her a house.

It is ensconced in a private cove on Ember Island, far from the capitol’s gossip and the servants’ prying eyes. It is peaceful. It feels a little bit like home.

The baby is quiet, serious. He rarely smiles. He is five months old before they finally make it to the island to take up residence in their house. It’s more like a small mansion; obviously made for royalty. It has been freshly redone, plaster put in place, smoothed out to crisp lines against the warmth of the wood. Over it, they have painted crimson, of course, because this could not be a residence where Ozai spends most of his time if it were not decked out from head to foot in crimson and gold in spades.

There are worse things than a husband with terrible taste in decor. She will be able to change it eventually. When she is not so tired, or so preoccupied with being a mother.

There are plenty of nannies on staff at the palace, and plenty of wet nurses, but as in most things, Ursa insists on doing it the traditional way for Hira’a and not the capitol. Too much can go wrong with a royal baby if it is left to strangers. So she is his mother, and not an army of wait staff. She clings to him like a life line. She's spent too much time not being barefoot and pregnant.

She sits languidly across from her husband, watching as he props the babe up in his long hands and stares at him, as though the two might communicate through thought alone. The corner of Ursa’s mouth lifts just briefly at the notion.

Ozai’s coin gold gaze flickers to her where she watches them and then back. He lifts his chin, looks down his nose at the boy.

“He doesn’t have the spark.”

“What on earth are you talking about,” she asks him blandly, lifting her eyebrows at her husband. There are many things about him which still mystify her even after three years of marriage, but this is something new all together. She isn’t quite certain that she likes the look in his eye.

“The spark. The one that fire benders have in their eyes. He has the colour.” He glances at her again, slowly, as though he would say something more on the matter than he has already done, but he does not address whatever thoughts flicker behind his gaze. “But he does not have…it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s five months old. We won’t know better for at least a year, if not longer.”

“My father will never accept him into the line of succession if he cannot bend.”

She sees where he is going with this now, and Ursa’s brow draws low. She resists the urge to roll her eyes, lids twitching at the corners.

“Then he will not be in the line of succession,” she says simply after a moment. She has never wanted her children to have that fate anyway. They'd 'tempted' her with promises that her sons would be princes when they'd made the bid for her hand, but it had never been the reason for her decision to say yes.

Besides this, Iroh is the next in line, and he has a healthy, nearly completely grown, son of his own. A ten year old hearty enough to dazzle the nobles and light up every room with his charm. Even if his wife has died, and Ursa still feels a pang in her chest at the loss of her friend, a burgeoning sadness at the thought of her gentle smile or the way the sunlight would hit the ornaments in her hair while she sat at the window and embroidered and whispered her secrets, it is not likely that he will not see the throne, and Lu Ten after him.

“No,” Ozai says, petulant, “that is unacceptable.”

“Is it? And what good is his place in the line of succession if he is never going to be Fire Lord anyway?”

Ozai levels a look at her that could kill.

She’s aware of his ambitions, of course, has made him promises. In the end she finds that she does not really care enough to see them through. With his brother as Fire Lord his life will be more content, she knows. Even if Ozai does not see it. Perhaps Iroh will even send Ozai out to gain some of that longed for glory to crown his ego with.

Until then, they must simply bide their time. There will be a place for them in Iroh’s court, but they must play their part in Azulon’s first.

“I beg you to exercise patience, my love,” she says on a sigh, lifting her hair to air out the nape of her neck in the oppressive summer heat.

If there are any such early signs to be had that Zuko is a fire bender, surely one of them is his contentedness with the heat. Most babies fuss when they are over warm. Most babies fuss period. He does not.

Ursa levers herself from the couch on which she lounges, sweeping across the floor in bare feet to bend and reach out for Zuko. Ozai gives him up seemingly reluctantly, and she folds the child against her breast, smoothing her palm against the silken nape of his neck. She sways, a living tree rooted in her house.

“Azulon is old,” she says evenly, “and surely not so much longer for this world. He will perhaps have another twenty years, if he's lucky.” It feels like a prophecy, rolling from her tongue unbidden, thick in the watery air like juice bursting from a ripe cherry.

“Your brother loves Zuko, and Lu Ten loves Zuko. He will find a place which suits him with them, as will you, husband. You need only wait it out.”

Ozai huffs, turning his gaze away, jaw set whilst he glares into the empty hearth. She can feel the heat in the air around him fluctuating, first too hot to make her flinch and then lukewarm. He stands in one stiff motion and Ursa flows out of his way, raising an eyebrow at him and inclining her head upward to his full height.

“I am going down to the beach,” he announces.

Ozai is already bare but for the sarong draped about his hips, his well sculpted chest gleaming in the low light of the lamps that fill the room.

Ursa nods.

“Shall we come with you?”

He stands silently for a moment, contemplative.

“No.” Ozai reaches down, pressing a kiss to her lips. Ursa lingers perhaps a moment too long, but it’s enough to give him pause.

He hesitates before he turns and exits the room, leaving a heavy stillness in his wake, and taking half of the room’s heat with him.

Ursa exhales, and Zuko makes a noise in the back of his throat, stretching his mouth into an o shape and sucking briefly at the bare skin of her shoulder. She turns her face and presses a kiss over his ear, bouncing him as she wanders off to a cooler area of the house.

Zuko simply needs time to come to himself.

They all simply need time.

#ooc #drabble #urzai week #urzai week 2018 #urzai #atla #avatar: the last airbender

[beamercal]

got you on my mind | luke

a/n: this is based off of the song ‘got you on my mind’ by NF. scenarios are not real.

summary: none

warnings: smut, talk of drugs/addiction, and talk of death by overdose.

pairing: y/n & luke

-

It started with phone conversations. You and Luke had met each other through a tagged photo on Instagram. He followed you, then asked for your phone number. You two clicked immediately with each other, and it wasn’t long until he flew out from LA to NYC to see you.

The day you picked him up from the airport was rainy. Cool droplets hit the warm, saturated ground. Though the weather was shitty, Luke still insisted you took a trip to the ocean. He had brought a small blanket with him, which was perfectly sized for the both of you. Your knees were pulled into your chest and your arms draped loosely around them. One of Luke’s legs was straightened, the other bent up as he leaned back on his hands.

“Tell me, y/n. How have you been.” Luke asked as he brushed a piece of wet hair from his own face.

You shrugged your shoulders. You haven’t been doing well. “Honestly Luke, life has been rough. After I get passed one obstacle, another hits me like a train.”

He was quiet and you continued to speak. You shifted your body so you were facing him more.

“My dad passed away.” you admit.

Luke tore his eyes from the ocean in front of him and looked at you. Sadness filled his bright orbs.

“He uh,” you started and cleared your throat, “overdosed. Last week. Morphine.” your eyes were ripped from Luke and you sighed into your knees. For the first time that day, you cried.

Luke moved closer to you and draped one of his arms behind your waist. He pulled you into his chest as you cried quietly, your tears being washed away by the falling rain.

“I know how that feels,” he muttered. “I lost my mom. She overed on Oxys last year. I’m trying to deal with it still. We were close. She was my world.” you could hear the brokenness of his voice. “She got them from me.” he choked out. “Sometimes I think that I was the reason for her death. If I never left for tour, if I didn’t have them in my room, if I never fucking tried them myself... maybe just maybe.”

You shook your head and looked up at him. “It’s not your fault, Luke.”

You knew he had a drug problem. It was one of the first things he told you. He was recovering, but it was still a big deal in his life. He told you about his xanax, his cocaine, his oxys, his ecstasy.

“I guess we connect on our hatred for pills.” he whispered. His lips grazed over yours gently. The sorrow between you both grew into the need for affection, and he pressed his soft lips to yours.

-

Luke had went back to California four days later. He texted you over and over for weeks. For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to reply to him. Your life was crumbling apart and you couldn’t have someone as unstable as Luke in it. Your phone beside you vibrated and you picked it up. It was a tweet from Luke.

‘New York City, i’m in you.’

Your heart tightened in your chest as you brought up his contact. You typed out different messages what felt like a million times. Finally, you selected all and deleted every word. You had nothing to say. You put your phone down in its previous spot next to you and rolled over. Your cold hands pulled a soft throw over your body and you drifted off to a peaceful slumber.

You awoke to many texts from Luke.

Luke: i’m laying in this hotel bed just staring at the ceiling.

Luke: i just wanna know if you feel what i’m feeling.

Luke: tell me what the deal is lately.

Luke: i’m a man of my word, babe believe that

Luke: i’m a closed book but somehow you learned to read me

Luke: i know that i should relax

Luke: i need you

Luke: i hate the way i react

Luke: i wanna think that i’m good — but you know i’m about to relapse

Luke: i got you on my mind, baby.

Thoughts raced through your head. You didn’t know what was going with on with him, you didn’t think you meant so much to him. Yeah, you talked for about a year, but you thought he felt differently. You did feel what he was feeling. You did need him.

As if they had a mind of their own, your fingers started dancing along the keyboard on your phone.

You: meet me at my apartment

Luke: on my way.

You felt your heart begin to race. You got out of bed quickly and threw a large sweatshirt over your small frame. You tied your hair up into a bun and slipped a pair of socks on your feet.

Not even ten minutes later, there was a knock at your door. As if on cue, your heart picked up speed once again.

You walked to your wooden door and unlocked it. As you opened it, a tall blonde boy appeared. You were quickly engulfed in strong arms.

“I’m sorry. Whatever I did, I’m sorry.” Luke strained out, kicking the door closed with his foot. “I held back from saying I miss you but fuck, I didn’t know I could miss someone this much. I get so lonely and you make me smile.”

You untangled yourself from his arms and grabbed his hand, leading him to your bedroom. He sat on your bed and his monologue continued.

“Ashton brought a few friends over.. They had coke and xans.”

You straddled Luke’s lap, eyes scanning his face. His hands planted themselves on your hips.

“I had a perfect white line laid out as if it was made for me. Perfect pills scattered along the table. I was so close to it, but then I thought of you.” His voice was just above a whisper. “Y/n, I couldn’t relapse. I couldn’t do that to you. You know why? Because I think I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you brought your hands up to cup his cheeks, your eyes burned holes in his.

“You don’t hurt somebody you love.” He finished.

Your lips connected with his in a fierce kiss; one you needed bad. He took no time to react, your mouths moved in a rhythmic pattern. His hands guided your hips so you were grinding on him. It started off slow, but got progressively faster.

It wasn’t long until you were flipped onto your back, Luke’s large body settled between your spread legs. His hands worked frantically to get your clothes off, lips only parting to remove shirts.

Once your lips separated for a moment, you took the opportunity to let your voice run free. “Luke, I need you. In every way, I need you. I love you. I need you.” you repeated.

His face buried itself into your neck. He bit and sucked at your soft skin, marking you as his own.

“You’re the only thing I want to be addicted to.” he whispered against your ear, biting the lobe gently.

You let out the first of many soft moans and Luke took it as a sign to go further. Neither of you needed foreplay. You wanted to be as close to each other as possible, as soon as possible. You needed each other to kiss and touch away the pain. Luke slipped himself out of his boxers and you out of your panties. He paused suddenly.

“So gorgeous.” he hummed, scanning his eyes up your body. It wasn’t the first time you had sex with Luke, but it was the first time both of you let your emotions control the moment.

Your cheeks heated up from his comment, grabbing his face and kissing him deeply. He kisses you back, wrapping his right hand around his dick and gliding it through your folds. You bucked your hips up, causing the tip to slip into you. Luke let out a hiss and slowly pushed himself fully in. A moan fell from your lips.

“Jesus, Lu.” you whimpered as he thrusted slow and deep.

The feeling was sensational, it wasn’t like any feeling you’ve felt before. You were both filling empty voids in each other. It hit you then that this wasn’t just a fuck, Luke was making love to you.

Your nails dug into his shoulders and you dragged them down his back. This earned a strangled groan to erupt from his throat.

You bit your lip hard, and Luke readjusted his hips. The new angle gave Luke’s cock leverage to places inside of you that you didn’t know existed.

You let your head roll back on the pillow, eyes screwing shut. Moans and whines tumbled from your lips as Luke continued his deep thrusts.

His lips were attached to your neck, his grunts being muffled by your skin.

He soon brought a free hand down to your clit, at first just applying pressure, but then rubbing slow circles on your sensitive bud.

“Fuck.” you whined out, arching your back. The mixture of Luke prodding at your g-spot and his thumb working at your clit was quickly sending you rapidly into your orgasm.

Moving his lips from your neck, the blonde boy above you attached them to your left nipple. His tongue flicked over it before he gently sunk his teeth down. Your hands flew to his hair as you clenched around him.

“Please.” you cried, “I’m so close Lu. Holy fuu-“ You we’re cut off by a long moan leaving your lips. Luke removed himself drom your nipple and looked at you, how your face was scrunched up in pleasure and your back arched into his chest, how your hips squirmed due to his thumb and his cock. He’d found his new addiction — you.

“Cum for me, beautiful. I’m right here. Cum.” He breathed out, kissing you hard. His words were enough to shove you over the edge.

Your soft walls rippled around his length as your orgasm crashed over you. You cried out his name over and over, gripping onto him for your life.

It wasn’t long until Luke let out animalistic moans, his hips stilling as he shot his hot load into you. His sweaty body collapsed onto your equally sweaty one, both of you panting messes. His face dug into your neck and he peppered soft kisses along your bruised skin.

“I can’t live without you. I really love you.” he whispered.

“Then don’t live without me. You have me, Luke. I love you.” you said back.

He pulled himself out of you and rolled beside you, pulling your body tightly into his.

“You make me feel better than any drug ever has.”

#why did i do this #luke hemmings #i love my bean #luke hemmings smut #5sos #5sos smut #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #calum hood smut #ashton irwin #ashton irwin smut #michael clifford smut #michael clifford #my boys #bands #smut #ugh #i love luke #hes precious

[sparkledragons]

The pen hadn’t been worth stealing

I was board a while back and used this generator to get a first line for what was going to be, like, a small fic, but then it got over 2000 words so whoops: http://writingexercises.co.uk/firstlinegenerator.php The pen hadn't been worth stealing. The gods were really against Taako today. Really. He just wanted to do one nice thing for Lucretia’s birthday. They didn’t celebrate those much anymore. But she was technically fifty now and they’d all agreed to still try for the big ones.

So when he’d seen the metallic blue and silver fountain pen, shining with material unique to this plane he thought it’d be the perfect thing. Problem was it costed about 400 of what ever goes for currency in this place. He wasn’t gonna be able to pawn off old junk from his room worth that much.

It wasn’t like it was the most expensive thing he’d ever tried to take. Once he and Lup managed to snatch some sort of fancy trophy for magic off someone who had the bad luck of showing them some underhanded hospitality. That had supported them for almost a year. It must have been worth more than this.

What Taako did not account for was the fact that that this particular pen was under surveillance by the tiefling shop owner who had some sort of thing against alien elves and had been watching him since he’d entered the store.

Idiot. Taako’d gotten rusty with his sleight of hand over the cycles. A natural one that caused him to knock over an entire display and boldly hold up the pen he was palming for the entire store to see did not help in the slightest.

And that’s how Taako ended up sitting in a shitty cell at the local militia station waiting for his family to come get him.

“Sorry Luce. Looks like Lup’s gonna be cooking your birthday dinner tonight,” Taako lamented to the ceiling. “I know she can’t possibly perfect your favorite apple rose pie I make but it will have to do.”

He threw his arm over his face dramatically and peaked over just enough to see the guard’s reaction. Nothing. Well Taako was nothing if not persistent.

“I wish I could be there for your fiftieth birthday, Lucretia. Humans live such short lives and I don’t want to miss such an important occasion.”

The guard shuffled in place ever so slightly.

“I just didn’t have the money to afford that pen. And I know you’ve wanted one for so long. I thought I could pay the store back when I came into the money. But alas,” Taako flopped into the most ridiculously tragic poses he possibly could on the tiny bench, “it seems the law has no consideration for sentimental emotion.”

“Shut up in there,” the guard banged on the bars with his spear, startling Taako out of his dramatics.

Taako huffed in announce. Fine. Don’t entertain him. He’d be out of here by tonight whether everyone else came for him or not. He eyed the bars up near the ceiling and shifted his foot and leg around the spare wand stored in his boot.

Should’ve searched me, he thought smuggle at the guard.

But apparently there’d be no need for that as a call of, “Where are you keeping my brother!” echoed down the halls of the jail.

“I’m about ten minutes from blowing this popsicle stand, kemosabe,” Taako announced, popping up off the bench and going up to the front of the cell.

“Down here, Lup!” he called, waving an arm between the the bars and pressing his face as close as possible to see her.

“Quit it,” the guard snapped and smacked Taako’s hand with the edge of his spear.

Taako hissed at the tiny nick it left.

“Asshole,” he mumbled, shaking his hand out.

Boots thunking down the hall accompanied by a few shouts of protest from other members of the militia preceded Lup’s appearance in front of the cell. Her face instantly softened when she saw Taako.

“Hey bro. They treat’n you well?” She grinned and leaned her forearms against the bars and above her head, despite the noises of complaint from the guard.

“Eh,” Taako shrugged. “Not much different than back home. Cold cell, moody guards.” He grinned in the man’s direction, provoking a scowl.

“Dav’s out at the desk getting everything in order. What’d you do?”

“Stole a pen, knocked over some stuff, tried to run. The usual.”

“Why the hell were you stealing a pen?”

“For Luce. You started work on the shrimp scampi and pie, right?”

“What do you take me for? Of course I did.” She reached forward to lightly punch him in the shoulder. Taako snickered and leaned against the bars, facing the direction of the entrance.

“So, uh,” he started, “how long is this whole business gonna take? I still gotta get something for Luce.”

“Davenport said it’d only take a few minutes. How much was the pen that you went to steal it?”

“400.”

Lup whistled. “Damn.”

“It was exactly her style, though.”

“Well Mag’s been doing some work at the local pet shelter. He might have something. And Davenport is using this cycle to sell some old stuff. Maybe we could all pitch in?”

Taako rolled his eyes. “We’ve gone soft, Lu.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having the money to buy stuff instead of stealing. Stealing makes this happen.” She gestured to the jail around them.

“Whatever you say, Lulu.”

The sharp click of boots coming down the hall accompanied by a set of louder thuds announced Davenport’s completion of whatever paperwork and fines he had to get through. He appeared around the hall accompanied by the half-orc lady who’d personally and quite literally tossed Taako in here. He had a bruise or two to prove it. He decided to give her a very smug glare.

She glared right back.

“It seems you’ve been released on a technicality, elf,” she growled down at him, not quite moving to open the door.

“I did tell you I would be out by tonight,” Taako purred back. “And it’s Taako, by the way. You know? From TV?”

She bared her teeth and pulled the keys from her belt. As soon as the door was unlocked, Lup pulled it open the rest of the way and tackled Taako in a hug.

“Hachi machie!” Taako stumbled under her weight. “I’ve been in here for, like, half and hour.”

“Yeah I know,” Lup pulled away and dragged him out with her.

Davenport stared sternly up at him, arms crossed and foot tapping.

“Hey...” Taako rubbed at the back of his neck, “Dav…”

“We can talk about it on the ship,” Davenport said definitively before turning and marching out.

Taako shrugged towards Lup and the two of them followed him out.

~~~~~

Back at the ship Taako managed to just barely wrangle the funds he needed for the pen properly and sent Lup down to get it while he finished fixing the disaster she’d left in the kitchen. The sauce didn’t have nearly enough lime and way too much garlic. It was really such a burden being the better cook in the family, always fixing her mistakes.

Lucretia wandered in just as he was pulling the pie out of the oven to cool.

“How was jail, Taako?”

Taako shrugged nonchalantly and pulled off the oven mitts. “It was fine. The guard was boring.”

Lucretia snickered and jotted something down in her notebook, periodically shaking her pen to the side when it stopped working.

“I thought Davenport was going to explode when he heard what happened. He kept going on and on about behavior on my birthday and you putting off your shenanigans for one day.”

“Nothing exists that’s strong enough to keep Taako out of trouble.”

“Clearly.”

Taako’s ear flicked in Lucretia’s direction as she approached to survey his culinary mastery. He barely restrained himself from smacking her hand with the spoon when she reached to taste the sauce, instead opting for simply pushing it to the side.

“Wait until dinner, old lady.”

Lucretia pouted. “I’m not old, Taako.”

“Yeah yah are. Fifty’s old for humans, right?”

“I’m not really fifty. It doesn’t really count.”

“I mean. We’re stuck doing this for probably the rest of time so it counts as much as it’s ever gonna, right?”

Lucretia’s pout melted into something laced with sorrow. Her crossed arms fell to grip at her robes. “You really think we’re never gonna beat it? We’ll keep cycling and running forever?”

Taako paused his work, only leaving his hand to stir the sauce so it didn’t burn. He glanced over to Lucretia, fifty years old and still as young as the nineteen year old baby she was when they left. He sighed and resumed working.

“You know I’m not good at this stuff, Luce,” he mumbled lifting the spoon towards her face. When she glanced at him in confusion he huffed and shoved it forward more. “It’s your birthday. I won’t tell.”

She smiled lightly, just barely reaching her eyes and accepted the offering. “Hmmm,” she hummed. “Needs less lime, more garlic.”

Taako gasped in mock offense. “How dare you. You and my sister are heathens and should not be allowed around cooking.” He reached for the garlic cloves and snapped his fingers to remove some of the lime as he said it.

Lucretia hummed her amusement and left Taako to his cooking.

~~~~~

Lup took over when she got back with the pen. She snuck it into his hand while Lucretia was in her room and made sure to insult his use of pepper before he creeped off to wrap it.

He utilized a spare scrap of cloth which he then transmuted to look like notebook paper. Cloth was so much easier to wrap things with, it didn’t tear as easily. It was very clearly still a vague oblong shape. Good. Didn’t look like he put too much effort in.

He slipped it near Lucretia’s forks on the table while setting it. Someone else could take credit for it. Maybe Barry. He chipped in the most, though no one could figure out where’d he’d gotten that much cash. He wasn’t letting anyone in on it either. All Taako did was manage to make a mess of things on one of the few important days this cycle.

Dinner was as loud an affair as always; lots of laughing and shouting, Taako bickering with Lup and Lucretia over the proper way to prepare shrimp. He thought what had been made was far too creamy and far to bland. Lucretia and Lup were extremely against this point of view, Lup because she didn’t know what she was talking about, and Lucretia because this was her birthday dinner and she wanted it prepared how she liked. No one else dared intervene.

Neither party ended up giving, but Lucretia broke between Lup and Taako just before one of them was probably going to tackle the other by announcing she was going to open her presents now. Taako sent his sister one final glaring pout before falling back into his chair, arms crossed. This wasn’t over. Lup stuck her tongue out at him.

Taako found a very interesting part of the kitchen to stare at while Lucretia opened things. His ears caught the sound of crinkling paper and saw the flash of paper out of the corner of his eye as she fiddled with the wrapped pen. Of course she’d open that one first. It was fine.

“Oh…” It wasn’t more than a whisper, but Taako’s ear flicked in Lucretia’s direction anyways.

“This is beautiful. Who, uh, who did this?”

Silence. Come on. Taako prayed someone else would take the credit. He didn’t want to have to explain how he got that thing.

“That’s Taako’s!” Damn it, Magnus.

“Taako this is so nice!” Lucretia said, he could practically hear the smile on her face.

Taako sucked a little breath in, imperceptible to anyone except maybe Lup but she could shove it, and turned to face her, chin in his hand. “Yeah, well… no big deal. Was shopping for clothes and saw it so I picked it up.”

“Taako tried to steal it.” Magnus announced from the other side of the table. Taako wanted to strangle him. Lucretia gasped and held a hand lightly to her mouth. Davenport put his head in his hands.

“That’s how you got arrested?” Lucretia was looking all worried and Taako was so not here for that. He huffed and turned away again.

“Just a dumb slip up. Like I said, not a big deal.” He waved his hand nonchalantly, hoping she’d drop it.

“Taako’s lost his touch. Can’t even take a pen without getting caught,” Lup filled in. Taako shot her a glare. She smirked.

“Taako that’s a lot of trouble to go through for me.”

Taako felt his face heating up. No. Nope. That wasn’t gonna fly. He flicked his hand under the table to throw on a quick glamor before anyone noticed. Davenport cleared his throat. Guess he noticed, but Dav wouldn’t rat him out. He turned to face Lucretia again, his best ‘i don’t care’ smile plastered across his face.

“Luce, Lucy, Lucretia,” he started leaning on his hand to convince her he wasn’t bothered, “it was fine. I’m fine. You got your pen. Everyone pitched in. You should thank Barold, really. He put in the most cash.”

“You’re the one who found the thing, Taako.” Barry mumbled from where he was studying his notes about… something. Taako’d get Barry to tell him about what he was doing later. “It’s your gift.”

Taako pursed his lips and sent a death glare in Barry’s direction. “I’m going to get the pie ready,” he declared as he swiped his plate from the table.

As he passed Lucretia’s chair he heard her just barely say, “Thank you, Taako.”

He couldn’t quite help the little smile that crept on his face as he left the dining room.

#taz #the adventure zone #taz fic #taako #lucretia #lup #Stolen century #taz sc

[exosmutxoxo]

Dangerous Woman (Part 5) 🌙

A/N: Oh my god, this turned out longer than I expected it to. All I can say is good luck and have a new set of panties ready. Have fun, you smutty babies.

Pairing(s): Chanyeol x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, heavy sex, bondage, blindfolds, orgasm denial, degradation, anal sex, asshole Chanyeol, daddy kink

Requested: No

Summary: (Y/N) might be addicted to someone. And that someone isn’t Luhan.

Word Count: 8237

Soundtrack: Criminal // Britney Spears

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | PART 5

When I finally come to my senses and pry my welded eyelids open, the first thing my brain registers is the dull throbbing of my jaw, followed by the fact that my entire body has stiffened to the point of no return.

I’m lying on my side, my cheek pressed against a soft surface. Upon moving my arms, I realize that my hands are bounded behind my back tightly, the coarse material of rope digging into the tender skin of my wrists. The same goes for my legs, my sneaker-clad feet tied together and preventing me from squirming around too much.

That’s when the panic kicks in and I struggle to an upright position, bumping my head against the low ceiling. Now that I’m sitting up, I can see that I’m in a small car that seems to be racing a hundred miles per minute.

The driver catches my eye in the rear-view mirror, a smirk crossing his lips and terror courses through my veins at the familiar face.

“C-Chanyeol?” I stammer, dimly wondering if I’m hallucinating and whether or not this is some mad dream which I will soon wake up from if I pinch myself hard enough. But you see, it’s a little hard to give myself a pinch when my fucking hands and legs are all bounded up and the housekeeper of Asia’s most notorious drug lord is acting like some Formula One driver and tearing down the road without taking his foot off the damn accelerator.

“Had a good sleep, princess?” Chanyeol croons in a sickly sweet voice, sending shudders down my spine. “Guess I really knocked you out good and proper”.

“What the fuck is going on? Where are you taking me? Why am I all tied up? Where’s Lu?”

All I get in response to my rapid-fire questions is a mere chuckle. “Relax, sweetheart. No need to get all panicky. I’m not going anywhere, so save your questions for later”.

I explode at that, kicking the back of the driver’s seat with my bound feet furiously. “Don’t tell me to relax, you prick”, I spit venomously. “You knock me unconscious, tie me up and drive me out to the middle of nowhere and you have the nerve to tell me to fucking relax? What the hell do you take me for? Where are we going? Where’s my cat?”

He scoffs at me, never taking his eyes off the road. “I can’t believe you still give a shit about that fleabag of yours when you’re being kidnapped. God, you’re lousy at prioritizing, you know that? Here you are, with the possibility of being dumped in a ditch or much worse and all you can whine about is that pussy of yours”.

I open my mouth, ready with a harsh retort but Chanyeol cuts me off with a chuckle of his own. “Unless”, he smirks, “we’re talking about an entirely different pussy. Then I can safely say that you have the right to whine, considering the fact that nobody is fucking your brains out right now. Based on what I know, you’re someone who can’t go a day without having that whore pussy of yours fucked good and proper, am I right, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?”

Everything around me seems to freeze and come to a standstill, my insides turning to ice. His words leave my numb brain reeling and I’m caught between impulsive defensiveness and hollow sadness at the truth of his crude yet honest statement.

“H-How did you know my last name?” I ask stupidly, feeling like I’ve been cornered like a vulnerable animal. “And how did you know what I do for a profession?”

Chanyeol sneers at my reflection in the rear-view mirror and as handsome as he is, I’ve never seen an uglier person until I caught sight of his malicious expression. “Profession?” He hisses. “You call your whore job a profession? Look at yourself, (Y/N). You’ve been fucked over endlessly by countless number of men just for money’s sake and you can still call yourself a professional? If you ask me, there’s nothing professional about shacking up with the most infamous drug trafficker in Asia”.

“Well, I never asked”, I shoot back hotly, my temper replacing my earlier shame. “Your opinion was never wanted in the first place so you can shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. And as far as Luhan and I are concerned, what goes on between us behind closed doors is none of your business”.

“Oh, but it is”. Chanyeol turns his head a fraction to grin at me in the backseat, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “It is especially my business when I use your relationship with him to bring down the whole of Lu Corporations”.

Horror bleeds through every inch of me at the drop of this bombshell. As much as I would like to convince myself that I’m no good for Luhan and vice versa, that we’re too different to be together, that I’m more suited to fulfil his sexual needs rather than to be his lover, I would walk to the ends of the earth to protect his business from crumbling. I’ve known him for a sufficient amount of time to gain the knowledge that he shed blood, sweat and tears just for Lu Corporations to rise to the top. And he did everything all by himself, he built it from scratch with his bare hands and he basked in the wealth he earned for his hard work.

Even if I’m ever faced with the situation where I’ll never be able to see him again, all I want is the reassurance that Lu Corporations is secured of its stability and top-notch position in the drug trafficking market. Because Luhan worked too hard for everything to crumble to ash at his feet. And over my dead body is Chanyeol going to do anything to ruin it all.

“You wouldn’t do that”, I say shakily. “Why would you? You’re his housekeeper. What has Luhan done to you that made you want to bring down his entire company?”

“Done to me?” Chanyeol repeats incredulously. “Oh sweetheart, he hasn’t done anything to me. If anything, it’s what he’s done to the ones I love. Let me ask you something, (Y/N). Do you have any idea why I’m his housekeeper in the first place?”

I shake my head mutely.

“Because”, he says, “I had no other choice. My father used to be a good associate to Lu Corporations three years ago and he earned good money for it. Until he got caught trying to hack into the company’s files in an attempt to bring down the entire company and to make matters worse, it was discovered that he had been stealing from under Luhan’s nose the entire time. When Luhan found out everything, he fired my dad on the spot and threw him out on the street”.

Chanyeol pauses to take a breath before continuing, never taking his attention off the road. “It was devastating to my family because my dad was the only breadwinner and source of income. My mother made a run for it when I was just a kid, leaving us to fend for ourselves. And as if matters weren’t bad enough, Luhan demanded compensation for whatever my dad stole from him. My dad, being the stubborn and selfish man he was, refused to do so and fled from the country as fast as he could, leaving me and my elder sister behind. All of this shit happened only three years ago”.

I part my lips to get a word in but Chanyeol holds up a hand stiffly, cutting me off instantly. He continues his story. “Luhan was far from finished with us for what my father did. He sent men down to our home and thrashed it good and proper, setting fire to our property and vandalizing our walls and even going as far as breaking in to take away our savings and valuables. But I refused to give in to his demands, although my sister was growing a tad bit desperate because neither of us held a stable job, which affected our livelihoods greatly. Then one day, Luhan himself paid us a little visit and decided to make a deal with us. He said that if my sister agreed to be his ‘fuck toy’, he would pay for our expenses and give us a new place to stay, as well as stop his harassment. I was aghast but my sister readily agreed and signed a contract, binding us to Luhan’s tyrant rule which we had no escape from”.

Chanyeol finally grinds to a halt after speaking rapidly for at least two minutes, providing me with the opportunity to get a word in. “So how did you end up as his housekeeper, then?”

“After a couple of months of getting her brains fucked out by Luhan, I could tell that my sister was getting sick and tired of being treated like some cheap whore. She would come home in the wee hours of the night, mascara running down her face as she sobbed silently to herself and she never had a clue that I noticed. So one day, I marched straight into Lu Corporations and had a talk with Luhan. We arranged another deal which resulted in me becoming his so-called housekeeper, also known as slave. He ripped my sister’s contract in half right in front of me, instantly freeing her from his chains and replacing her with me instead. The only difference is that I never had sex with him. What I had to do for him was basically wait on his hand and foot at every single second and adhere to his every command. Then I started to realize that something was amiss”.

I hold my breath, tensing up in the binds of the ropes holding my hands and legs together. “What was amiss?”

“As soon as my sister wasn’t there to fulfil his sexual needs anymore, Luhan started running out of the house every night, which is something he has never done. He would stay out for the whole night, only returning home in the early morning with love bites on his neck and his hair all tousled, a clear sign that he’s been fucking around with someone. One night, I decided to follow him out in fear that he was secretly harassing my sister for more sexual activities behind my back. As it turned out, he was seeing a call-girl and that was the very first time I saw your face”.

The tension in the car increases ten-fold as Chanyeol meets my eye in the rear-view mirror, a sinister smile tugging at the corners of his lips and I fidget in the backseat uncomfortably, squirming in the binds of the ropes. “I don’t see the connection between me and your plan of bringing down Lu Corporations. I mean, it’s cool that you want to take revenge on the man who made your life a living hell but I’m just a mere call-girl who so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’m innocent, I swear”.

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong”. He grins, finally slowing the car down to a stop. Upon peering out of the tinted window, I see that we’ve pulled up in front of a lone house that seems to be standing in the middle of nowhere. I’m not exaggerating; no other building is in sight, so I’m forced to assume that we’re somewhere on the outskirts of the city, which seems to send a tremendous chill through my bones.

Chanyeol kills the engine, causing the AC to die off and it suddenly feels like a hundred degrees in the interior of the car. “You’re special, (Y/N)”, he remarks serenely, turning around to shoot a smile back at me.

“So I’ve been told”.

He ignores my snippy remark. “You’ve managed to establish a proper relationship with Luhan, something which no girl has ever managed to accomplish. And as much as it’s sickeningly cute and sweet, it also puts your darling drug lord and his business in a very vulnerable position”.

His voice is husky and low, bouncing off the car walls and causing my head to ring nauseously. If it weren’t for the fact that my hands are tied behind my back, I would put both palms over my ears. “You plan to use me to bring down the whole of Lu Corporations? I don’t know if you’re extremely gutsy or just fucking stupid”.

“Maybe. But since you came into the picture at such a perfect timing, I might as well use you to my advantage”.

“Ouch”.

“Ouch indeed”. He chuckles huskily, reaching behind to pat me on the head condescendingly. “I’ve heard a lot about you, (Y/N)”.

“And from what sources?” I shoot back, shuddering away from his touch. “A lot of people have said a lot of things about me”.

“Kim Minseok. Kim Joonmyeon. Do Kyungsoo, Kim Jongdae. Sound familiar to you?”

My blood runs cold at the mention of the names of some of my clients, as well as Luhan’s greasy receptionist. Realization dawns on me that I’m actually in a very bad situation now and with growing panic, I have no flipping idea on how to get myself out of this. “H-How did you…?” I trail off, at a complete loss for words.

Chanyeol simpers at me, his hand trailing from my head and down to my jaw, cupping my cheek gently. “All four of them work for Lu Corporations and are planning to bring it down from the inside. Of course, there are many more who choose to remain anonymous so I shall not disclose their identities to you”.

“Oh my god, all of you must have really gotten on Luhan’s nerves for him to treat every single of you like shit”.

“Or maybe he’s just a fucking arsehole who enjoys making people’s lives hell and now, those people are willing to give him a taste of his own medicine”.

“Touché”.

Without another word, Chanyeol pushes the car door open and steps out into the night air, making his way to the back door and yanking it open. A blast of four a.m. breeze hits me right in the face as he reaches in and drags me out of the vehicle, tossing me over his shoulder easily as though I’m just a mere sack of potatoes.

I yell, I kick, I scream, I struggle but to no avail. There is not a soul around to hear me and struggling in Chanyeol’s hold is like trying to fight a man with body armour. Plus, it’s not easy to lash out at your kidnapper when your hands and legs are all bounded up.

Eventually, I silently decide to save my energy for later and grow limp in his arms as he strides up to the lone house on his long legs, expertly unlocking the front door with one hand and kicking it shut with his foot after stepping in. The room is plunged in pitch-black darkness but upon a flick of a light switch, fluorescent lights fill the entire space, illuminating the sofa and chairs and beanbags scattered all over. In short, it looks every inch of a normal house. If only the occupant of it is a tad bit more normal as well.

“Nice interior designs”, I comment casually in a vain attempt to quell the rising anxiety in the pit of my stomach.

I’m not exactly lying. With its cream-coloured walls and unique antiques scattered all over the shelves circling the perimeter of the living room, Chanyeol’s house has its own quirks and originality. Or maybe it’s because I’ve never lived in a proper house ever since I was a young and naïve eighteen-year-old girl.

“Thanks”, Chanyeol replies, finally setting me down on my two feet. He spins me around so that my back is facing him and fumbles around with the rope binding my wrists together, swiftly cutting its restraints. Then he moves on to my legs, snipping the ropes there as well. Instantly, blood rushes through my limbs and I sigh with relief, rubbing the tender skin of my wrists.

“Aren’t you worried that I’ll, like…try to escape or something?” I ask pointedly, eyeing the frayed ropes lying on the carpet limply.

All I get in response is a mere shrug from my kidnapper. “You can try. And I know you would. But if I were you, I wouldn’t. You have no phone, no supplies and no idea where the keys to the front door and the car are. So it’s not wrong for me to say that you’re not exactly in an advantageous position”.

I deflate at that. What he said is true; I have nothing on me, not even a bottle of water to take a sip from if I’m ever stranded somewhere, or emergency money for a bus fare. So I switch topics swiftly, tilting my head to peer up at him inquisitively. He just stares down at me, not saying a word. “So what am I supposed to do here?” I question. “I have no phone, no cat to play with, no spare clothes. How do I entertain myself while you’re plotting your revenge against Luhan?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, (Y/N). Stop harping on about your cat, he’s totally fine. He scampered back into Luhan’s house while I was dragging you into the car. As for clothes, just suck it up and wear mine for the time being. About your phone, find something else to entertain yourself. And no, this house doesn’t have a landline so discard the thought of dropping Luhan a call”.

I clench my jaw, annoyed that he managed to read my mind so blatantly. “Fine. I want to take a shower”.

“I see that courtesy is not your strong point”, Chanyeol snaps back. He then chucks his thumb in the direction of the spiral staircase leading to the second floor dismissively. “Bathroom’s up there, to your right. Use the pink toothbrush because the blue one’s mine. Towels are in the wicker basket beneath the sink. I’ll leave some clothes outside the door so wear them when you’re done. Also, don’t use all the hot water up”.

Absorbing all this information, I pivot on my heel and scamper up the stairs, ignoring Chanyeol’s sulky mutterings of “What a brat” under his breath. Letting myself into the bathroom, I shut the door behind me quietly and turn around to survey my surroundings with burning curiosity.

The walls are made of shining white marble, glistening in the warm lights. The porcelain sink stands in the far corner, cluttered with cans of shaving foam, dental floss, two standing toothbrushes, a tube of Colgate and a clean shaver. Chanyeol’s shaving-foam scent fills the entire enclosed area and my nose twitches subconsciously like a rabbit’s, drinking in the masculine fragrance hungrily.

It’s so strange how there are so many men out there in the world and every single one of them has a trademark scent of their own. For example, the musky scent of cologne always lingers around Luhan for hours on end while Kim Joonmyeon permanently reeks of dollar bills. Kim Minseok smells like strawberries while Do Kyungsoo always has the faint scent of baked goods on his clothes.

And here I am, aggressively inhaling Chanyeol’s scent in his bathroom.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, my hand closes itself around a fluffy white towel in the wicker basket and I dump it on the toilet seat right next to the shower area, proceeding to strip myself of my clothes.

I spend an eternity in the shower, letting the warm water run down my trembling body as I feverishly scrub the grime from my hair. Aimless thoughts race through my mind as I finally turn the water off and step out, dripping wet and shivering like a naked mole rat. With my soaking hair wrapped up in the towel, I wander over to the sink and pick up the pink toothbrush, squeezing out some toothpaste on it and proceeding to brush my teeth. My reflection stares back at me mournfully in the mirror hanging over the sink and I wince at the state I’m in; dark circles beneath my eyes, lips slightly cracked due to the lack of hydration in the past few hours.

Sehun would have a coronary if he could see me now.

With a sigh, I rinse out my mouth and stick the pink toothbrush back in its holder, padding over to the door and cautiously tugging it open. Through the crack of the door, I catch a glimpse of a pile of clothes dumped on the floor outside so I reach down and gather them in my arms, hastily shutting the door once more.

Chanyeol had left me an oversized white button-down shirt and a pair of brown boxers and to my silent spite, no bra. Seething to myself, I slip the clothes on and gaze at myself in the mirror wryly, unimpressed with the way the shirt seems to reach down to knees. I look twelve-years-old all over again, much to my chagrin.

Grumbling, I shake my hair out of the towel and leave the bathroom, the familiar scent of aftershave clinging to my new oversized shirt. For a moment, I stay rooted in the hallway, absentmindedly pondering on what to do next. Then my ears catch the soft strains of the strumming of a guitar a distance away and my curiosity heightens.

Instinctively, my feet take me in the direction of the music and I find myself wandering down the dim hallway to a room right at the end of the corridor. The door to the room is shut but now that I’m in the vicinity, I can pick up on the feverish strumming of guitar strings and it’s like my heartstrings are the ones being strummed.

My eyelids flutter shut on their own, feeling my breathing quicken in time to the intoxicating rhythm. The tune reaches its climax, the reverberation of the sound sends the shudder of a musical orgasm throughout my body, almost causing my knees to buckle. I am turned on by the sound of an acoustic guitar. I am turned on by the sound of Chanyeol playing on his guitar. To be turned on by a certain someone’s body or other physical traits is one thing but this, this is what it feels like to be aroused. This, listening to a certain someone’s feelings and emotions through the music they produce, is pure sex. So raw, so exposed.

And just like that, my hand snakes down to the doorknob and twists it, pushing the door open as I step into the room.

Chanyeol is so immersed in the music he’s producing that it takes him a minute to notice that somebody is quietly hovering in the doorway and observing his mini rehearsal. He halts his playing immediately, causing silence to descend upon the room like a blanket and glances up.

(Y/N) stands in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with her hands stuffed in the pockets of his oversized shirt as she gazes at him with a dreamy look in her hollow eyes, an expression of pure bliss dancing on her features. She says nothing for a while, her gaze sliding over to the guitar tucked in his lap, and then she makes a beeline for him wordlessly.

To Chanyeol’s surprise, she makes herself comfortable in his lap with her back facing him as she studies the opened notebook on the table in front of her, her tongue sticking out in concentration. The handwritten musical notes stare up at her and she traces the tip of her finger over them lovingly, her head cocked to the side.

Then she turns around to face him, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “Did you write this song yourself?”

Chanyeol blinks, shifting uncomfortably in the chair as he subtly tries to adjust her weight to his stronger knee while keeping a tight grasp on his guitar. “Yeah”, he eventually says. “Why?”

“It’s nice. Play it for me”.

“You already heard most of it, since you were eavesdropping”.

“So? I want to hear it again”.

They stare at each other for a long time, (Y/N)’s dark gaze boring right into his soul, strong and unblinking. If Chanyeol is being honest to himself, he would say that he wasn’t expecting this. Instead, he was expecting a lot of crying and screaming and wailing for him to drive her back to Luhan’s place, as well as multiple escape attempts.

He definitely wasn’t expecting (Y/N) to barge into his self-made studio, eavesdrop on his playing and park herself in his lap while staring at him with that irresistible gaze of hers. But who is he to turn away such a beautiful girl, although she’s a little curt and abrupt and rough around the edges?

“Fine. But get off my lap. I can’t play when you’re in the way”.

(Y/N) graciously adheres to his command, making herself comfortable on the floor as she observes him quietly from her position, her chin propped on the palm of her hands.

Mustering up a deep breath, Chanyeol flicks a quick glance at the music score in his notebook before he starts. But he doesn’t need to, because the song is already imprinted on his heart and permanently running through his veins after countless number of times of rehearsing it. His fingers move over the strings of his beloved guitar expertly, his eyelids fluttering shut on their own as he loses himself in the self-composed song.

It’s like he’s swept off his feet, plunged into his own paradise. Through the living hell Luhan had put him and his family through for the past three years, nothing and nobody had been there for Chanyeol but his guitar and his music. They were his sanctuary in his chaos-filled world, the only things that kept him sane through it all. In his heart, he had made a silent vow that he would never fall in love with anybody after witnessing the hell Luhan put his sister through.

She’d admitted one night that she’d actually developed some sort of twisted feeling of affection for the drug lord and Chanyeol had never been more disgusted in his entire life. Luhan had treated her like a cheap whore, a sex toy, and yet she had the nerve to admit that she was sort of in love with him?

Chanyeol never understood love. His father had claimed that he loved his two children and made a run for it when things turned sour. His sister ‘fell in love’ with a drug lord who did nothing but treat her like a slut. Who would blame young Park Chanyeol for not wanting to get himself involved in anything related to love?

But now, as the strums of his guitar fade away into nothingness as the song draws to a close and he reopens his eyes, he starts to wonder what it’s really like to be in love. Especially when he catches sight of (Y/N) sitting cross-legged on the floor with her chin propped on the palm of her hand as she stares up at him admiringly, head tilted to the side adorably.

That’s when Chanyeol realizes with a jolt that he’s actually astoundingly lonely. Practically no family left to speak of, no lover to take to bed. All that’s left is a bitter resentment eating away at his heart.

“Chanyeol?” (Y/N)’s quiet voice tears him away from his roiling thoughts and he casts a glance at her curled-up form, absentmindedly admiring how ravishing she looks in his oversized shirt.

“Hmm?” He murmurs, setting his guitar carefully against the table and leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped over his chest.

(Y/N) isn’t even looking directly at him anymore; her glazed eyes are fixated on nothing in particular, a forlorn expression falling over her pretty features as she aimlessly fiddles with her fingers. “Are you lonely?”

The question catches him off guard and he leans forward warily. “Why do you ask that?”

“Because your composed music is like art. Art is the perfect way to run away without ever leaving home. Only lonely people want to run away. What are you running away from?”

Chanyeol eyes this particular call-girl with newfound respect, deeply impressed with her poetic approach. “Reality”, he eventually says gruffly. “I’m a lonely person running away from reality”.

She gets to her feet at his response, wandering over to where he’s seated and slides into his lap once more, taking his face in her small and warm hands. “Aren’t we all?” She murmurs sadly.

His heart gallops a hundred miles per minute at her touch, electricity buzzing through his veins and making it feel like he’s on fire. “How about you?” He breathes, unable to resist reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “It must be lonely business in the call-girl industry”.

“Which is exactly why I always run away after a night with Luhan”. She explains. “I’m lonely and Luhan is art. I’m terrified of falling for the art. How can I fall for him? He’s a client of mine and falling for a client is a recipe for disaster. If I could choose who to fall for, I would never choose him”.

The sharp truth of her words cuts through the tense atmosphere like a knife and Chanyeol almost topples back in his chair; is that what love is like? Falling for the wrong person and wanting nothing more than to pull yourself out of it? If it is, he’s not sure if he ever wants to experience love.

But…

“I’m not a client”, he finds himself blurting out.

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that I’m not some filthy rich CEO who’s willing to pay for your services. I’m just a nobody who wants your time and company”.

“But I don’t provide company”, she points out bluntly. “I provide sex. That’s who I am. I can’t help it, it’s like a drug to me. I love sex, I love pleasing men even if it makes me feel crappy at times. I-I just love the attention they shower on me, even if it’s temporary. I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but if you were me, you would understand. I just love being wanted”.

That hits Chanyeol right in the gut. It’s shocking how she’s being so straightforward about her feelings with him, even after he knocked her unconscious and dragged her out to the middle of nowhere in order to plot his revenge against the most notorious drug lord in Asia. He can tell that (Y/N) is telling the truth, judging from the careless way she slid herself into his lap and attached herself to him like a stray kitten looking for food.

She just wants to be with men. She just wants attention. And right now, she wants Chanyeol’s attention.

So he takes up the challenge and leans in to kiss her, his hands travelling down to her hips and gripping onto them to drag her further into his lap. She pauses for a fleeting moment, as though debating on what to do, then she relents and reciprocates graciously, deepening the kiss as her arms entwine themselves around his neck.

“Fuck, you look so good in my shirt”, he hisses, daringly bucking his hips up to grind against her clothed womanhood. “How the fuck didn’t I notice how good you looked earlier on?”

“Maybe because you were too busy being an asshole and kidnapping call-girls in the middle of the night”, (Y/N) remarks cheekily. She blinks at him innocently, a glazed look lingering in her eyes. “Do you do this often?”

“Kidnapping call-girls? No”, Chanyeol admits. “But being an asshole? Yes”.

“It’s okay. Majority of my clients are assholes anyway”.

“Including Luhan?”

“Luhan’s an exception”. (Y/N) tilts her head to give him another peck on the lips, obviously eager to avoid the topic of the drug lord. And Chanyeol isn’t that interested in discussing about her sex life with the CEO of Lu Corporations anyway, so he entwines his arms around her tiny waist and tosses her over his shoulder easily, getting to his feet and making a beeline for the door.

(Y/N) starts to protest, whining incessantly in his ear for him to put her down but he ignores her, making his way down the hallway to his bedroom a few doors down. Once the door to his bedroom clicks shut behind them, he sets her back down on her two feet and roughly pins her against the wall by her shoulders, staring deep into her wide eyes.

“Shut up”, he growls. “Now that you’re in my bedroom, you abide by my rules. You will listen to what I have to say. Is that clear, princess?”

The glint in her eyes tells him everything he needs to know; accompanied by the seductive little bite of her lower lip and Chanyeol knows that he’s got her dancing in the palm of his hand. “Crystal clear”, she responds sweetly.

It’s amazing, honestly. When Chanyeol had initially manhandled her into the backseat of his car, drove her out to the middle of nowhere and finally got her into his house with her incessant insults, whining and biting remarks, she was like a dog who wanted nothing more than to bite him. She was feisty and ferocious, spoilt and untamed.

But now, it’s like she’s an entirely different person. At the promise of sex, she has transformed from a wild bulldog into a submissive kitten, eager and completely ripe for him. And for the umpteenth time, he marvels at the fact that she managed to sweep Luhan right off his feet and worm her way into his ice-cold heart.

It has got absolutely nothing to do with looks. Sure, (Y/N) is jaw-droppingly gorgeous with her full pout and twinkly eyes and good-girl demeanour and petite form but those are just bonuses for her. She is a master in seducing men, from what Chanyeol is experiencing at this exact moment. She knows how to woo them, to charm them into sleeping with her and giving up their hard-earned money for her irreplaceable services.

And Chanyeol is one of those men now, only without money involved.

Unable to hold himself back anymore, he grabs her by the wrist and drags her over to the bed, shoving her back onto the mattress. She sinks into the softness, lustful excitement glimmering in her eyes as she observes every one of his actions with intense eagerness.

The delectable sight of her swimming in his oversized shirt almost brings Chanyeol to his knees with a groan on the tip of his tongue, evident by the erection straining against his jeans. “From this moment onwards, you’ll refer to me as ‘Daddy’ unless I say otherwise. Understand, princess?”

(Y/N) bobs her head in silent agreement, hands tucked in between her thighs delicately. “Yes, Daddy”, she murmurs, her voice laced with lust.

A smile crosses Chanyeol’s lips and he reaches forward to give her an affectionate pat on the head. “Take off the boxers and your panties”.

He leaves her to scramble to adhere to his order, her fingers hooking themselves around the hem of the oversized boxers she’s wearing and yanking it down to her ankles along with her panties. While she’s preoccupied with that, Chanyeol rummages around in one of his drawers for what he’s looking for, his back facing in her direction.

When his fingers finally close around the items he’s searching for, he slams the drawer shut and turns around to hold them up for her to see, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Get ready for the night of your life, princess”.

Before I can comprehend anything more, my hands are handcuffed behind my back and a blindfold is draped over my eyes, blotting out everything around me. Engulfed in total darkness, I feel Chanyeol flip over onto my front and hover over my trembling form. He places his mouth near the shell of my ear, his warm breath hitting my cheek and sending shivers through me. “Look at you, princess”, he coos. “All tied up and soaking wet for me. What happened to your faithfulness to Luhan?”

My body betrays me at his words, especially as his long fingers travel down to my soaking womanhood, toying with my folds teasingly. My hips jerk involuntarily at the raw sensation and I clench my teeth together, but to no avail. “Chanyeol…” I whimper, but a sharp slap against my bare ass shuts me up instantly.

“What did you call me?” He hisses in my ear.

I feel myself blush, inwardly kicking myself for my slip-up. “Sorry, Daddy”, I gasp out.

“That’s more like it”. There’s a smugness to his voice that makes me want to slap the shit out of him but a weird affectionate feeling neutralizes my annoyance with him. So I lie there, completely engulfed in darkness and cuffed up as Chanyeol grinds his clothed erection against my bare ass, pulling out needy mewls from me.

“Oh, princess”, he sighs out blissfully, lazily humping me from behind and trailing his large hands down my bare waist. “You look so good from my position. All cuffed up and vulnerable, like the little slut you are. Are you a slut, princess?”

“Yes, Daddy”, I respond excitedly, unable to resist lifting my hips and grinding back against his prominent hardness. “I’m your slut”.

He chuckles, long and rough and deep, and the sinful sound of it rocks me right to my core; since my vision is hindered, every other sense of mine is amplified by a thousand times over. Every little fleeting touch grazing against my skin sends me into a frenzy, every faint whiff of his addictive aftershave causes me to see blinding stars behind the darkness of the blindfold.

And the most shameful thing of it all? I’m loving every second of this, and Chanyeol hasn’t even done anything to me. The thought of Luhan hasn’t even crossed my mind and I don’t even have time to feel guilty before my amplified hearing picks up on the sound of Chanyeol yanking down his zipper. Shuffling fills the room as I sense him ridding himself of his jeans and chucking it at the foot of the bed.

The next thing I’m aware of is the tip of his cock prodding at the entrance of my ass, almost causing me to groan with desperate neediness for him to fill me up. His large hands plant themselves on my hips, steadying himself in preparation. He bends down, placing his mouth near my ear once more and giving the lobe a kitten lick.

“God, look at you”, he groans, his deep voice a symphony to my ears. “Wearing my shirt, handcuffed, blindfolded and with your ass in the air just for me. Is this the same sight Luhan witnesses every single time he fucks you?”

“Not really”, I mumble mischievously into the pillow. “He doesn’t really like anal”.

“Well, that’s his loss”. Without warning, Chanyeol thrusts his length into me from behind, earning a surprised yelp from me at the sudden intrusion. My body jerks instinctively as he stretches me from inside out with his rock-hard cock and from the excruciatingly addictive sensation, I can tell that he’s obviously way larger in size as compared to Luhan and my other clients.

Grunting with determination, Chanyeol withdraws for a split second before snapping his hips forward once more, easing his length into my stretched hole. I bury my face in the pillow in an attempt to muffle my cries of pleasure but to no avail; they escape into the steamy bedroom air, bouncing off the walls and ringing through my ears.

Through his breathless grunts, Chanyeol growls out breathless words to the rhythm of his thrusts. “Let me hear you, princess”, he demands, his fingers tangling themselves in my hair and yanking my head up from the pillow. “Don’t hold back. Let Daddy hear how good he’s making you feel”.

I let him grip onto my hair, his fingers tugging roughly and my body reacts beautifully to the way he’s handling me like as though I’m nothing but his mere fuck toy. Bliss floods through my veins. This is what I live for. This is what my body craves on a daily basis. And this is what I really am. Not who I am, but what I am. I am nothing more than a cock sleeve, a thing used by men in order for them to fulfil their sexual needs. And yes, I am proud of it. For the time being, at least.

Moans and groans and mewls and whimpers tumble from my lips like a never-ending waterfall, and I’m rewarded for them. Chanyeol never once slackens in the pace of his thrusts, pushing and pulling his length in and out of me like there’s no tomorrow for the both of us. It’s so sinful, the way he’s stretching me past my limit. His tip seems to fuck me straight up my spine and it does nothing but send me spiralling into paradise.

I beg, I scream, I cry for him to fuck me faster, to fuck me harder. I struggle in the holds of the handcuffs, rubbing my wrists raw and tears of ecstasy start to dampen the material of the blindfold. “Please”, I sob. “Please, Daddy. Please fuck me harder”.

“For fuck’s sake, (Y/N)”, he gasps, digging his fingernails into the bruised skin of my hipbones as he tries to steady both of us through the storm. “You don’t release easily, do you?”

“Or maybe you just don’t have the ability to satisfy me”, I remark breathlessly, immediately regretting my sharp words as soon as they leave my mouth. Chanyeol slows the pace of his hips, lazily thrusting his length in and out of me at a leisure-like pace and I instantly silently curse myself for my sharp tongue.

“What did you say, princess?” He croons smugly.

More tears flow from my eyes as I feel my orgasm slowly slipping away from me no matter how hard I try to cling onto it. “I’m sorry”, I gabble, desperately rocking my hips back and forth to resume the intoxicating rhythm from earlier on but it fails to satisfy me. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to. Please, please don’t stop”.

He brings the palm of his hand down against the tender skin of my ass once more, the stinging sound echoing throughout the air and causing me to shiver in anticipation. “I’m not Luhan, princess”, he snaps harshly. “I don’t give in to you just because you murmur a few pretty words of apologies. Luhan may be weak when it comes to you, just like your other clients, but I’m not them, so get fucking used to it. If you ask me, you need to be taught a proper lesson, so since you’re here with me now, I think it’s about time you receive that lesson”.

I almost orgasm at his crude words. Yes, that’s how far gone I am.

My head is pounding, my body is trembling, my womanhood is aching. I’m so unfulfilled in every way possible and the only thing Chanyeol is doing is basking in the satisfaction of watching me squirm and beg beneath him.

To my utter surprise, I feel him flip me over so that I’m lying on my back (or more specifically, my cuffed hands). Following that, he pushes himself into my soaked folds with one powerful thrust, earning a delirious scream on my part. My back flies off the mattress due to the impact of his thrust, sobs of gratitude leaving my lips at the feeling of being filled up utterly and completely.

Chanyeol says nothing in response to my gabbled, breathless gasps of ‘Thank you, Daddy!” and instead allows his large hand to creep up to my exposed throat, wrapping his fingers around my neck loosely. A chill of adrenalin shoots through me at this little action, my body tensing up.

“The safe words are ‘red’ and ‘orange’”, he mutters gruffly. “Say ‘orange’ if you feel uncomfortable. ‘Red’, if you want me to stop. Got it?”

“Okay”, I say breathlessly.

His fingers tighten a little, thumb pressing on the right spot that causes me to feel lightheaded and for the time being, I’m in heaven. Chanyeol is the only one on my mind, my heart thumping to the rhythm of his addictive thrusts.

He builds me up to my climax, keeping his hand locked around my throat and slamming repetitively into me. My folds tighten around him, the ball of heat in the pit of my stomach twists and threatens to unravel itself, and I muster up a deep breath, preparing myself to combust all over his length.

But as soon as I hit my peak, Chanyeol stills in his movement, causing me to come crashing down from my near-high like a rock falling right out of the sky. It’s like a bucket of icy water has been dumped over me, cold and merciless and I emit a forlorn cry, wishing that the blindfold is lifted from my eyes so that I can glare up at him.

But I can’t do anything but beg. I beg him to fuck me until I’m in tears, I beg him to let me release. And yet, he just laughs. He laughs at my predicament with his hand still wrapped around my throat, taunting me with the fact that I need him more than he needs me.

“You know it’s true, princess”, he mocks. “In all your years of being a call-girl, all the men need you to please them. They beg for you to suck them off to their hearts’ content, they beg you to cater to their needs. In all the years, you’ve been needed. But things are different when you’re in my bedroom. Now you’re not needed by anyone, you’re just needy. And you know deep down that this is exactly what you’ve been dying to experience for so long”.

Shame burns through me at the truth of his words. But right now, I can’t think straight. I can’t comprehend anything, except for the fact that I’m in desperate need for an orgasm.

But Chanyeol is not going to let me off the hook easily. He chuckles that husky chuckle of his, reaching down to lift the blindfold from my eyes and suddenly, my vision is filled with the sight of the gleeful smugness on his handsome face.

“Aww, you’re crying”, he coos. “Don’t cry, princess. I’m not so heartless that I’ll deny you of your orgasm. You’ll get it. Eventually”.

A sob rises in my throat. “Please”, I rasp, staring up at him desperately. “Please, Daddy. I-I need you. I need you to help me release. Please”.

“Have you learnt your lesson?”

I nod frantically.

“What did you learn?” He smiles.

“T-That I shouldn’t be rude to you”, I stammer. “I shouldn’t be mouthing off. I should be a good girl, as long as I’m in your bedroom. I should follow your rules. I’m sorry, Daddy. I’ll be good. I’ll be good for you”.

With his smirk never wavering, he asks, “Have you ever said that to Luhan?”

Mutely, I shake my head truthfully.

He chuckles. “Thought so. He needs you more than you need him, after all”.

Before I can get another word in, Chanyeol slams into me once more, possessive growls leaving his lips as he thrusts his full length into my gaping chasm. My body reacts instantaneously, vibrating with intense ecstasy as he fucks me to kingdom come.

It doesn’t take me long to reach my climax and this time, I cling to it tightly, not wanting to let go. Chanyeol’s tip collides with my sweet spot and a scream of pure bliss rips itself from me, combined with the addictive sensation of his hand wrapped around my throat.

I chase after my orgasm, my head falling back against the pillows as Chanyeol fucks me to a white-filled paradise, my name falling from his tongue like dripping honey. And with that, I explode all over him, white strings of my release spurting out from in between my folds and squirting all over his length and the sheets, my entire body convulsing violently from the force of my orgasm.

For the moment, I’m gone. I’m lost in a sea of bliss, bursts of white flashing beneath my eyelids as I scream his name. Then the warmth of Chanyeol’s own release in me drags me back down to reality, his raspy growls of my name a symphony to my ears. The sound of it is better than any song he could compose, any strum of any guitar string.

He collapses on top of me, panting hard as both of us slowly come down from our respective highs. And as the patches of release on the bedsheets grow cold, as Chanyeol pulls me close to him and holds me tight, as I get my breathing under control, I feel the bite of reality.

Oh god, I think to myself drowsily. I think I’m addicted to Chanyeol now.

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