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so-mordor-itis · 2 years

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Not Long Enough

Requested by @amatxs :3c I kinda.....went overboard oops-

Word count: 2.1k

one.

Xiao realized from a very young age he could collect memories and store them away for future reference. Not exactly hide them, or block them out, but keep them in a safe place until it was time to use them. He realized his memories could be a tool--used as a bandage, perhaps whenever his karmic debt would start to crawl into his skin, gnaw at his very being until there was nothing but a husk.

It started with recollections of Rex Lapis. The way the Archon spoke, how his voice rumbled due to how deep his tone became. Xiao sketched the details in his mind, remembering to use it for later. It then became a routine for himself.

(One night atop the roof of Wangshu Inn, the blackness under his soul clawed through, and almost had become his very essence. He scrambled through each memory, desperate for one that held even a scrap of happiness.

Remember. Remember. It won't clear up unless you remember.

He was extreme with his own thoughts, he admitted.)

two.

Wangshu Inn's guests were of the prying type.

Xiao found out this piece of information one morning; he had been meditating--something Rex Lapis had suggested to relax his thoughts--when a young girl called out to him (to possibly greet him, but he wasn't too familiar with the type of greeting she had screeched). He vanished using his abilities, leaving the little girl to whine in confusion as her mother dragged her away.

He decided to find a more closed space.

"You would like a room?" The innkeeper's voice was startled. Xiao knew she never expected such a request; honestly found her astonishment amusing, but he kept that to himself.

"Yes." He affirmed, voice gruff. That was the only answer she received before he had disappeared, leaving a cloud of black and green dust behind.

It was thanks to that room he had heard your voice for the first time.

Your voice was small, almost shy. Definitely different in comparison to the inn's chef, who was more broad and outspoken.

"This is where we store our meat," he had said to you. A loud smack could be heard afterwards, "please be careful with our steak, it molds easily."

"Got it." You had replied, tone still small, but a bit more...determined? Xiao couldn't tell, nor did he truly care at the time.

He felt the blackness creep up again, so he shut the door and began to pray to Rex Lapis the pain would end sooner.

three.

You two met briefly one night, when you came to work late. You had been out of breath, clutching the bag on your hip as if your life would end right then and there once it dropped. He found himself being amused by the tendencies of humans. Xiao felt himself chuckle, which afterwards he staggered. He couldn't remember the last time he had let out a laugh like that. When did he last…

Xiao sighed, crossing his arms before glancing downwards again. You had already entered the building; the clattering of dishes and loud voices indicated as much.

Who were you? His eyebrows furrowed, eyes closing in an attempt to piece together the puzzle that was the employees at Wangshu Inn. They all seemed to know him, or at least have acknowledged he was given a task to guard the road beside it.

"Are you a customer?"

Xiao hesitated in opening his eyes. It was your voice, but he didn't feel the need to pry into human business. You weren't talking to him, so what was the use?

"Excuse me! You, on the roof!" You hollered. Your voice sounded a lot more firm.

He opened his eyes. You were talking to him.

Xiao regarded you with a harsh gaze. He watched you flinch in return, eyes peering into his as if you had just witnessed something scary. ("You were a bit frightening, you know." You told him, months later. "Your eyes reminded me of a fierce predator.")

"Uh, nevermind." You cleared your throat, excusing yourself to leave. He watched with some fascination as you shuffled inside.

—

Later on, he had heard you ask the inn's chef about him, who he was and where he had come from.

"I'm sure you've heard a bit about the Vigilant Yaksha who guards the road here?"

"A little. My mother used to tell me stories."

"That's probably who you encountered a while ago, then. His name is Xiao. Doesn't talk much."

"I see…"

Xiao wanted to know why you sounded so discouraged. It was as if, despite the sheer fear written across your face, you still wanted to know more. To give him the questions instead of someone else.

Humans were so hungry for knowledge, he noted.

four.

He encountered you four more times since that one fateful day. A couple were when you were outside, gazing upon the silk lilies the gardeners had previously planted a few days ago. Those flowers reminded him of spiders; the long, thin stem like petals protruding from the center. He recalled a moment where he swore he heard you letting out a shriek before calling for the chef because an actual spider was crawling over the kitchen counters. The chef barked out a laugh before taking care of it. ("It's a tiny thing!" The chef chuckled. You let out a huff in response.)

One time, you had tried to spark up an actual conversation with him, but Xiao left before you could even finish your sentence. The encounter had left you in a gloomy sort of state that he witnessed later in the day. Pure disappointment wrote itself on your furrowed brows, pouting lip, and your slow gait. Xiao rolled his eyes.

A tad dramatic, wouldn't you suppose?

—

"He likes Almond Tofu." Xiao overheard the innkeeper say one day. The mention of the tasty treat broke Xiao's concentration. …It did sound nice.

He shook his head with annoyance. He was not about to let himself be persuaded by the only human dish he could eat to simply talk to you. How foolish.

Xiao took a deep breath to regain his concentration, diving into his memories and forgetting the moment.

"Almond tofu?"

He swore he could feel his ears prick upwards.

Xiao scoffed. No. He was not some animal you could lure with food. This was so ridiculous.

"I can make some, I think." You affirmed.

He huffed. Why were you trying so hard to grab his attention?

Xiao finally managed to bring his concentration back after a few moments. He had to tune out the discussion of Almond Tofu and how to get it extra fluffy.

—

He escaped to the roof. The wind tickled his face, and he welcomed it with a deep breath. The air smelled oddly sweet, a familiar scent he could not pinpoint.

The sound of a door opening and closing broke him out of yet another concentration. Xiao began to feel a warm frustration feeling in his chest, and he opened his eyes rather harshly. The oddly sweet smell was closer now.

It was you.

You were carrying a plate filled with a dish he couldn't recognize from his place on the roof, and set it down on a balcony. If it was the balcony of his room, he couldn't tell. (The innkeeper did let employees in to clean the place.)

Your figure disappeared from his view, creating an ever-growing curiosity. His first immediate guess was Almond Tofu.

Teleporting from the rooftop shingles to the balcony, he gave the plate of food a deadpan stare.

Almond Tofu. The familiar scent now clear as day. He should've known.

"The innkeeper told me this was your favorite,"

His shoulders tensed a little. He sensed your presence–this was no surprise–yet, hearing your voice so close, so personal, made him feel strange.

Xiao had to admit: you were persistent. Commendable, but also stupidly ignorant.

"Did you desire something from me?" He asked, straight to the point. You shook your head.

"Not exactly. Well, maybe to ask you a few questions, but–"

Xiao picked up a delicate piece of tofu and popped it into his mouth. The square practically melted against his tongue. Decent enough.

"I suppose I can answer a few questions."

—

You asked him what he did here, who he was–though he was sure you knew the answer. Simple questionnaire.

You reminded him of the Traveler with how curious you were. While questions about yourself had remained on the tip of his tongue, he held himself back once again. Who you were wasn't important (he later learned you were hired as an assistant to the inn's chef) to his duty.

You left eventually after asking one last question.

Even though you were gone, he could still feel the presence you left behind.

Xiao began to keep an eye on you.

You had interesting qualities. When you were nervous, or anticipated an event, you bit your lip and tapped your right foot rapidly. Xiao witnessed this when you were holding a conversation with the manager of the inn.

Another quality: you were stubborn.

All humans were, according to him. However, you were especially stubborn. He had witnessed this more times than one, but he had to scold you a few times.

Weeks passed, and the bond between the two of you began to grow. He could feel its growth gaining strength each time you smiled at him, each time he felt the urge to smile back. He once again kept himself from doing so.

The pain was still there. It didn't want him to be happy.

Months now passed, and you still retained your job as the chef's assistant. Everything had been in working order.

Until you smiled at him again, and his chest throbbed longingly.

(four and a half

He realized he wanted to kiss you. He hated it.)

five.

You were soothing, despite the constant noise of clattering pots and pans you created whenever you were cooking something. He even grew used to that after hearing it almost daily.

He began to crave you, in more ways than one.

"Is something the matter?" You questioned. He stared blankly in your direction.

"No."

"Okay. You were staring at me."

He wanted to remember the bashful look you had. Contain it in his heart forever. Though, he wouldn't ever state that. He simply kept quiet, trying to stop himself from smiling.

—

Xiao had given you a warning to not disturb him if he had his door closed. You gave him a puzzled look, but ultimately obeyed his one rule. Whenever his karmic debt had started its painful process again, he did not want you to witness it. If anything were to happen–if you were to be in any pain because of him–he wouldn't ever recover. Knowing himself all too well, he was aware of how fast his reclusive behavior would set in.

After one particularly bad episode, he exited the room he locked himself in, only to find you asleep on a chair. You stayed near him, even after he warned you countless times.

Xiao shook his head. "You truly are a stubborn fool." He wanted to stay angry, to scold you once you awoke, but it died out after you moved around to sleep on your back instead of your side.

(The urge to kiss you almost painful.)

Approaching you, he took in the sight of your sleeping form: the drool falling from your mouth to your chin, the way you curled into yourself. It reminded him of how a child would sleep.

What happened next made his body freeze. He was so close to you now, his breath now disrupting the way the strings of hair fell against your cheek. He eyed your parted lips, and swallowed.

No.

That was the worst possible thing he could do.

Still, he couldn't part himself from your form just yet. There was an ache in his bones, he wanted something.

All he could manage was a small peck to your forehead.

You had awoken an hour later, yelping at the sight of him across from your laying position.

Xiao only blinked in your direction. "Why so surprised? This is technically my room."

"I…uh…"

"I told you to leave when I had that door closed."

"Ah," you fidgeted, your foot began to tap against the floor. "Sorry."

He sighed. "Just…listen to my warnings next time, yes?" He tried being gruff, but couldn't muster the energy.

You had a defeated look on your face, and he bit his tongue, but the smile found its way to his lips anyways.

At least he could have two more memories to himself.

|Tags:|

@phen0l , @mediocrityexpert , @universal-imagines , @fugufishie , @zhonglis-empty-wallet , @mengdus , @izuniias , @sierrascribbles , @dulcesiabits

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #xiao imagines #my writing

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lost-eternity · 6 months

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Fandom Matchups -CLOSED-

This is a matchup trade for @fourtyfourcatss. Regular matchups are still closed. Without further ado…

•──⋅☾Cabin 6 - HECATE☽⋅──•

I won’t lie. I struggled with this one.

I think a large part of it was the fact that I wanted to sort you into Athena’s cabin however, I had just done an Athena matchup so I was slightly biased against doing another. Oop.

Honestly, it mostly came down to Hecate and Athena for me. After much discussion with a few of my mythology buff friends I eventually settled on Hecate and here’s why.

You see, Hecate is a very tough parent. She expects a lot out of her children. She expects them to dutifully study and hone their craft to meet her high standards. As a result, those who are more likely inclined to cabin #20 would be those who are intelligent, bookish, and most important studious.

You may be able to see where I encountered some issues here.

Bookish, intelligent, and studious are all core characteristics of Athena’s children as well. That, paired with your ambition made it very difficult to distinguish between the two. So with such a degree of overlap between the two goddesses and their parental strategies (and the sheer scarcity of canon information on Hecate), I had to extract from the original lore.

Firstly, and perhaps most importantly, I got the vibe that you were more intellectually inclined than athletically. At least, there were few mentions of sports or physical hobbies in your interests category. I figured that you would have included them if you found them to be an important enough characteristic of your personality or if you valued them at the same level as your intellectual pursuits. Athleticism seems to be in more of Athena’s domain than Hecate’s.

Also, I think another key distinguishing factor is how you think.

Athena’s children think more rigidly and tactically. They are focused on that which can be physically observed and oftentimes will outright reject the notion of things that extend metaphysically. Basically, if they cannot see, taste, touch, or smell it, it does not exist. This more close-minded albeit scientific approach to life allows them to be extremely knowledgeable but also can impede on natural creativity.

Conversely, Hecate’s kids function with a certain degree of flexibility which ultimately promotes their creativity. As the goddess of liminal space, Hecate places heavy value on creativity, thinking outside the box, and decision-making. Hecate’s children are emotionally complex and knowledgeable individuals whose understanding of the world extends into spirituality. They are willing to embrace the unexplainable, willing to acknowledge and work with the metaphysical aspects of the world that someone from Athena’s cabin would simply refuse to acknowledge.

Think of it like the Hermoine Granger VS Luna Lovegood style of thinking.

I think your mention of intuition is what really prompted me to consider placing you in the latter category of thinking methodology. A strong intuition and inner-directional sense is a core aspect of Hecate’s children. I’d even go so far as to call it the most important aspect shared by all of her children.

Hecate is the goddess of crossroads after all, helping others make decisions when they come to a metaphorical crossroads in their lives is a core part of her mythos. I imagine this innate directional sense would extend to her children as well.

•──⋅☾Belief Manipulation☽⋅──•

I am going to be a bit more brief with this one as I went a bit overboard on the cabin sorting. I had a lot to say LOL.

Okay, so this is a fun one. And probably one of the most potent powers I have dealt out so please make use of it wisely.

I think you would have the power of belief manipulation

Those with belief manipulation must be of unwavering conviction themselves lest they lose themselves to the potency of their own abilities. But beyond that, they must have a clever tongue and sharp wit.

Their logical, well-disciplined minds have the ability to shake the foundations of a person’s belief, manipulating it and changing it to suit their narrative. This makes it one of the most powerful abilities one can possess.

Belief systems are so deeply ingrained in a person’s psyche that the manipulation of it can change who that person is on a fundamental level. So much about what someone says and does is motivated by the beliefs they hold. To change that is to change them.

Sure, you can use this ability for hijinks and scandals such as making a famous politician believe themselves to be a dog on national television- or you could use it to topple nations and shatter the foundations of societal framework.

The choice is up to you.

Weaknesses:

Must be in the sightline and earshot of the desired target. Earlier stages of this ability even requires physical touch.

Difficult to undo once done.

Certain limitations are present as a belief can be dispelled if physical, tangible evidence is presented to the target suggesting something contrary to the instilled belief. However, this depends on the target in question as some people are more susceptible to unquestioning faith than others (it is not easy to change people’s minds).

#match up #matchup #matchups #match ups #percy jackson #percyjackson #pjo #rick riordan #fantasy #superpowers #superpower #superpowermatchup

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rosesakura · 1 year

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Hi hi!!! For ao3 wrapped:

3, 6, 12, 16, 18, 19, 20, 29, and/or 30! I wanna know everything about your writing lmao, sorry if I went overboard I’m just very curious!!

I literally love you

obligatory under the cut note because I am 99% Julie is the only one who wants to read this rambling lmfao

3 -- what work are you most proud of?

I fucking wish I could say my whumptober collection but we all know I massively failed at that so :)

I actually haven't written much this year so a lot of this is going to be repetitive lmfao I am actually proud of the progress I made on the stars are already dead because it's such a heavy topic to write about (cathartic for me, but also heavy) and for a while, I was updating pretty frequently.

6 -- favourite title you used

okay so I do actually love the the stars are already dead title because I think that it illustrates Oikawa's overwhelming sadness and depression. the thought process was playing on his connection to the stars and how he was always so excited by the vastness and awesomeness of space but now it seems so insignificant to him and he no longer has that kind of appreciation. also people would probably say he's a star athlete and so he's "already dead" because of being so numb because of his sister. I put a lot of thought into that title, actually!

12 -- how many WIPs do you have in your docs for next year?

LMFAO dude you are not ready. there's also a difference between wips I have started and which ones I actually aim to post and/or finish next year. for haikyuu, specifically? I think I have maybe 10? they include finishing tsaad, some more zombie background, mermaid AUs, and a new fic I don't think I've talked to you about before 👀

if I am including potential other fandoms, it's, uhh.... way more lol got a lot of fire emblem on my mind, specifically sylvix and casphardt, potentially some octopath? maybe some outlander! I am ambitious but I have no time lol

16 -- what's your most common "Additional tags" used?

protective *insert character name here* lol I am but a simple lady who just wants to feel safe. also hurt/comfort and emotional hurt/comfort

18 -- the character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

fucking YURI from fire emblem, god. he is impossible and part of the reason i lost my motivation for whumptober -.- Oikawa has also been a bit of a bitch for me this year, but I think that has ore to do with the fact that he is very severely depressed so it is altering the way I would usually write him. not impossible but has slowed me down a bit and stressed me out about being too ooc.

19 -- what's one pairing you want to explore next year?

I have so many tbh I am garbage. I have alwaaaaays wanted to try writing Tanaka/Kiyoko and I Will force myself to try that out sometime soon. also love Kyoutani/Yahaba and think they could be fun! I have also never written a poly ship before and have an idea for bokuakakuroken !

other pairings for other fandoms include (potentially) Todoroki/Momo, Claire/Jamie, Link/Zelda (haven't touched them for YEARS), and some older fire emblem games, perhaps Leo/Sakura, who I wrote my very first fic about.

20 -- which work of yours have you reread the most?

ones I haven't publish yet. LOL okay um here:

all the sylvix chapters from reach for my hand (oops I love them), demons at daybreak, soft silver kisses, and chapters 15-28 of Unravel (special attention to 23 because I am always in need of Daisuga)

I like to read my oneshots a lot because I am very low on time and energy, or I'll read parts to try and inspire me or make connections when writing another chapter

29 -- favourite line/passage you wrote this year?

I had to go hunting for this one. but it's from chapter 11 on tsaad and I think you commented on it too. I was so pleased with the whole interaction between Iwaizumi and Takeru and almost made myself cry rereading it today lol

"And it was in that moment that Iwaizumi truly understood: Takeru needed to talk about them. Iwaizumi and Oikawa had both been careful not to mention either of his parents, too worried about upsetting him. But Takeru wanted, probably even needed, to talk about them. After all, one of the ways the dead stay alive is through the lives of others, through their pictures, their memories, their stories, never truly fading from the earth as long as someone carries them in their heart."

also thought I'd post this lil snippet of an unpublished fic because i really like my idea for it :)

“Do you know what the worst part is?”

Kuroo snapped his mouth shut and swallowed sharply, scared to hear about the worst part.

Kenma drifted closer to him, close enough that he was nearly pressed against the glass. From this close, Kuroo could see the pain in his eyes, easily see the marks and cuts left over from his group’s poking and prodding.

“I thought that, out of everyone here, you would be the one person who wouldn’t hurt me or wouldn’t let anything bad happen. And I shouldn’t feel good with you here. But I do.”

Despite the positive note that Kenma’s sentence ended with, Kuroo couldn’t handle it. Kenma was right; he shouldn’t feel good with Kuroo here because Kuroo did let them hurt him. He had been so positive he’d be able to keep Kenma relatively safe. He had failed in the one thing he promised to do.

“I know,” he managed to choke out, glancing away when Kenma pressed his hand against the glass of the tank. “I know, I know I fucked up. I just came to check on you. I’ll go.”

“Aren’t you listening to me,” he snapped. “I don’t want you to.”

30 -- biggest surprise while writing this year?

that it's hard to do when you have a full time job. :) I'm always surprised when people like my writing tbh. i know that sounds bleh but it's true! especially with tsaad, it's a very personal and very sad story so to see people react to it so positively is a beautiful surprise <3

#thank you so much for letting me ramble!#and forcing me to reread my fic to find a good writing line from this year lmfaooo #i love you so so much thank you!!!!#lovely asks from lovely people #cat answers!

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subbykboys · 4 years

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the bad boy’s secret | chanyeol

↳ pairing : badboy!chanyeol x reader

Genre ➞ bad boy AU, fwb AU, college AU, smut

Warnings ➞ sub!chanyeol, dom!reader, bondage, oral (m. & f. receiving), edging, unprotected sex, riding, mild dirty talk, mild degrading, creampie, face riding, cum eating [ sorry not sorry ], reader is in denial , overuse of the word please

Word Count ➞ 8.2k

chanyeol is a bad boy with a nasty reputation. he’s sexy, mysterious, and entirely untouchable. well... to most people, that is. to you, on the other hand-- he’s something else entirely.

posted ; 6.04.20

there was an angry chill in the air. it bit at your face and hands as you strode to the campus lot where your car was parked. all around you, brightly colored leaves fell to the earth as strong gusts of wind broke them free of the branches they so weakly clung to. they blanketed the ground in shades of vibrant reds, tempting oranges, and dull, blotchy browns.

it was actually really beautiful. you'd always been a fan of the cool undertones of fall. especially the reds. ugh, red was such a gorgeous color. practically everything you owned was red, or some varying shade of it. it was just so sexy and dangerous and—

"(y/n)!" you were snapped from your inner thoughts by a barking voice.

quickly, you averted your eyes from the ground and onto the face of the girl walking beside you. her name is Mina, you're pretty sure. you grimaced at her irritated expression, realizing you must have zoned out again. getting lost in your thoughts at inappropriate times was a pretty frequent occurrence for you.

"huh?"

she scoffed in disbelief, eyes narrowing, "where's your head at? i've been talking for a solid five minutes and i'm pretty sure you stopped listening six minutes ago."

you chuckled, scratching the back of your neck as an apologetic smile touched your lips, "sorry. i was just thinking about the leaves."

"you're so weird."

you didn't know why she felt comfortable saying that to you. you weren't even friends. at least, not by your standards. maybe acquaintances. maybe.

and that was only because you happened to have the same afternoon photography class and just so happened to sit next to each other. you supposed in her pea sized brain that was enough to qualify for a friendship. but you had standards. and she was god damn rude.

regardless, you didn't have the energy or patience to start any sort of altercation. so you shrug, head bobbing lazily in agreement.

"i know."

that seemed to satisfy her as any remaining glimmer of annoyance was swept off her features with one last eye roll and replaced by a light grin, "whatever. hey, there's this party at my boyfriend's frat house tonight and you should totally come."

"no thanks." was your swift, concise rejection. but of course, that was not enough to satisfy her.

"what? why not?" her tone demanded an explanation that you really didn't feel like giving.

sighing heavily, you kicked a pebble across the sidewalks. "parties aren't my thing."

that was maybe half the truth. you actually did like parties. just not frat boy parties. they were like beacons for girls with low self esteem and insecure rich boys with superiority complexes. they were loud as fuck and made your head ache. not to mention they reeked. apparently, a lot of guys didn't learn in high school how to put on deodorant. your preference stood with more low key parties, with a more controlled number of attendees and some chill drinking. maybe getting a little baked if you were in that vibe.

"you can be such a buzzkill," she groaned loudly, head rolling back as she stomped her foot childishly. you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

"i know."

"do you ever just let yourself have a good time? like ever? we're in the prime of our lives for god’s sake!" and there she goes again with the 'prime of our lives' bullshit. please. maybe this was the best life would ever be for her, but you had other plans.

"i have to finish an essay for my business class." no you didn't.

"but it's friday! you have all weekend to finish it!" why was she trying to argue with you? you'd already said no, so why was she still trying to convince you. spoiler, you weren't about to change your mind anytime soon.

"i prefer not to put work off until the very last minute." also a lie.

"(y/n)," she whined, "come on, i personally think it would be pretty healthy for you not to spend another friday night pent up in that little apartment of yours—"

all at once she was cut off by the distinct roaring of an engine. both your gazes shifted towards the road ahead of you, watching as a flashy red motorcycle came tearing down the street. an excited gasp exploded from your–barely–acquaintance's mouth while a low groan escaped yours.

fantastic. just what you needed. your daily dose of—

"Yeolie!"

you winced as she squealed his name, waving energetically. you silent prayed he'd just keep going. but of course, he didn't. his bike came to a gradual halt in front of the sidewalk you stood on. it purred as he planted his feet securely on the cement.

now this next part you could almost see happening in slow motion.

he reached up with his leather glove clad hands, pulling off his sleek black helmet to reveal a pair of thick, pink lips, a sharp, defined nose, charcoal black eyes, and a head of silver locks. you could practically feel Mina swooning as he swung his head to the side, effectively flipping his hair like some kind of wannabe fetus Justin Bieber. it took less than a moment for those dark eyes to fall on the pair of you, and a slow smirk to crawl across his face.

Mina immediately rushed up to him (all too energetically for someone who already has a boyfriend, mind you), squeaking out sweet greetings as her touchy hands found purchase on the sleeve of his leather jacket.

what was up with him and the leather anyway? it was only on shockingly rare occasions that you witnessed him donning something other than his signature black leather outfit, decorated with silver zippers and complimented by a thick chain around his neck and a single silver earring. how much cheesier could he get?

you'd think after high school, people would be over the whole 'bad boys are so hot' thing.

apparently not.

because at your uni, Park Chanyeol was hot shit. every girl and every guy wanted to get their hands on him in one way or another. he was dangerous, sexy, mysterious, hard to get. he rode a blood red motorcycle and smoked blunts behind the main building for god's sake.

he was the definition of a cliche. but it seemed you were the only person that could see through his whole charade.

"(y/n), don't be rude! come say hi to Yeolie!" Mina suddenly whipped around, waving you over.

this bitch—

the corner of your lip twitched in a subtle sneer, but, ever the pacifist, you obliged, slowly moving to stand at her side. his irritating smirk widened upon your approach, tongue swinging over the corner of his lip as his eyes dropped to do a brief once over.

"Chanyeol," you grunted with a less than enthusiastic tone.

"(y/n)," was his swift reply, voice as deep and smooth as ever, "wonderful seeing you again. you look as happy-go-lucky as ever."

the sarcasm was palpable.

"yeah well, it seems i just can't contain myself with you around," you bit back with just as much satire, lips curling dryly.

"i'm flattered," he all but cooed, head tilting downward as his teeth latched onto his bottom lip.

he stared boldly into your eyes, and you stared right back with just as much fire.

"um... do you guys, like... know each other?"

"no."

"yes."

you both responded simultaneously.

confusion plastered itself across her face, eyes jumping back and forth from your face to his. a taunting smile tugged at the corners of his lips, "we actually went to the same high school, isn't that right, (y/n)?"

you huffed in annoyance, shoulders slumping, "yeah. we did."

"and you never told me this because…?"

because you weren't close in the least and you hadn't even told her when your birthday was let alone about your high school life.

"didn't seem like important information."

she gaped at you in disbelief, "anything regarding my Yeolie is important information!"

was she trying to stroke his already colossal ego? if his head got any bigger, it might just explode.

Chanyeol’s grin broadened at her statement, and you silently groaned, knowing exactly what was coming before he even opened his mouth, "yeah, (y/n). anything regarding me is important information. so why didn't you tell her? trying to keep me all for yourself? how greedy of you."

"please." you scoffed.

Mina glared at you sharply before plastering an innocent smile across her face and twirling a strand of her platinum blonde dyed hair. "ignore her, Yeolie. i was actually wondering if i'd be seeing you at Jake's party tonight?"

"wasn't planning on it," he admitted, and Mina pouted, lips puckering, over dramatically whining in protest. suddenly, his eyes shifted to you, that stupid smirk touching his features, "but maybe if a certain buzzkill was attending... i'd be more tempted to make an appearance."

buzzkill? oh, you.

"i'm not—"

"of course (y/n)'s coming! wouldn't be a party without her!" Mina rushed to cut you off, throwing an arm over your shoulder and yanking you into her side with a grip tight enough to bruise. you looked at her like she was crazy, brows furrowed, eyes wide, lip raised in a disgusted sneer. but her hold was enough to squeeze the air out of your lungs and steal away your ability to refute.

Chanyeol’s brows jumped in surprise, an amused grin spreading across his face, "really?"

"wait, no—"

"yes! i was surprised when she agreed, too! but guess she's finally breaking out of her shell!" you were going to kick her ass if she kept cutting you off.

"well isn't that great to hear." there was a mischievous flicker in his dark eyes, a look you knew all too well.

"so... you'll come?" she asked hopefully.

"sure." you were annoyed at how easily he agreed. he was still smirking smugly as he began pulling his helmet back down over his head. shooting you a wink and a two fingered wave, he spoke again, "see ya tonight."

with that final word, he was speeding off down the road, tires kicking up dust and pebbles as they spun.

as soon as Mina's grip loosened from around you, you were ten feet away, swiftly walking in the direction of your car. "(y/n)! wait!" she cried out, running after you in her five inch heels. you didn't slow down in the least.

"i'm not going, Mina," you said sternly, not even bothering to look back at her.

"b–but i told Chanyeol—"

"no."

"please?"

"not. happening."

⋄⋆⋄

you ended up going.

not because you wanted to, of course. but because Mina decided it was necessary to show up at your apartment and quite literally drag you out. she was surprisingly strong for such a small person, and fiercely persistent. she'd even gone the extra mile of forcefully applying makeup to your eyelids and lips. that's not to say you didn't put up one hell of a fight. but conflict was never your strong suite, and you eventually ended up going pliant under her ministrations.

unsurprisingly, it was just as you expected it to be. loud. stinky. and filled to the brim with horny bastards looking for a quick fuck. you'd been there for all of ten minutes and you'd already gotten your ass grabbed six times. slimy assholes think it's acceptable to touch someone without permission. all the more reason you didn't want to stick around for long.

not to mention, Mina had ditched you the minute you walked in the door to suck faces with her fuckboy boyfriend. since then you'd been gravitating from room to room, searching for the best place to sit without being squished by a horny couple practically dry humping against you.

luckily, you found your solace upstairs in an empty bedroom. the music was muffled the moment you shut the door, the stuffy air that smelled of sweat and marijuana also clearing out. finally, you could breathe.

you spotted a candle and lighter on the bedside table, and quickly moved to light it. the dull, soothing glow that filled the room, splashing light across the walls made the headache that had begun to swell at your temples ease up. exhaling softly, you fell back onto the neatly made bed, body relaxing into the soft duvet.

but of course, your moment of tranquility was short lasting.

because before you could so much as shut your eyes, the door was opening, and a painfully familiar voice was purring, "there you are~ i've been looking all over for you, (y/n), you sly girl."

"fucking hell," you growled under your breath, propping yourself up on your elbows to face him properly, "what do you want, Chanyeol?"

he gently nudged the door shut behind him, before walking over to where you lay. "isn't it obvious?" he murmured, leaning forward to press his hands against the mattress on either side of your ankles.

"spell it out for me."

he chuckled softly, knees meeting the bedding as he began to crawl upwards, until his face was hovering over yours. even you couldn't deny how beautiful he looked up close, with those big, dark eyes, boyishly grinning lips, smooth, tan skin...

"i," he began, nose nudging against your cheek, "want," his lips feathered over yours, "you."

a dark chuckle rolled off your tongue as you met his hooded, lustful gaze. "you we're so greedy last time... and still... you couldn't get enough," you replied smoothly, voice deepening as your desire for him grew.

"what can i say? i'm insatiable."

you scoffed, the corners of your lips curling as you lifted your head slightly, leaving only the tiniest of spaces between your mouth, "i don't think you deserve it." your whisper caressed his lips all too temptingly. A chill rolled down his spine, eyes fluttering as he felt himself falter briefly.

"maybe i don't... but i can earn it..."

now that caught your interest.

a smirk touched your features, "and how might you do that?"

he bit his lip, trying his best to subdue a grin, "by doing whatever you ask of me."

"you willing to take that risk? after that little stunt earlier? i might just decide not to go easy on you." your voice was taunting, but the challenge and threat were very real.

"i can handle anything you give me."

you raised a brow, amused by his naive confidence. then, in the blink of an eye, you had him underneath you, pinning his wrists to the mattress above his head. the action had been so sudden that he could only gasp in shock when his back collided with the bed. you stared down at him with dark eyes, the tip of your tongue sliding over the corner of your mouth.

"you sure about that, big boy?"

he inhaled deeply when your head lowered to the curve of his throat, lips just barely grazing over that sensitive spot. "most definitely." he let out breathlessly, eyes fluttering as he tilted his chin back, offering himself to you. something dark alighted in your eyes, a sinister gleam in your smirk as thoughts of how you could absolutely ruin him flooded your mind.

"you're going to regret saying that."

you didn’t offer him the opportunity to respond before your lips crashed down on his. he let out a muffled sound of surprise at the sudden action, but quickly relaxed beneath you, returning the kiss eagerly.

see? you much preferred Chanyeol when he wasn’t running that big mouth of his. he was always so much more fun when he was choking on desperate moans and trembling uncontrollably under your touch.

truth about the infamous Park Chanyeol? he was a bitch.

in fact... he was your bitch.

it started back in high school. when you were the chill girl who wasn't too well known by anyone outside of your friend group, and when he was the untouchable bad boy that everyone drooled over.

to keep it to the point, you'd both attended a mutual friend's party your senior year, got wasted, and hooked up.

but, it wasn't what you'd expected it to be. no, because you'd expect Chanyeol to be the kind of guy to pin a girl (or guy) down and dominate the fuck out of them. but the moment your voice took on an authoritative pitch, he was putty in your hands, whining and moaning and begging... it stirred something to life inside of you that you had no idea was there.

and it was good. really good. so good, in fact, he came running back to you within the next week practically begging for more. and shit, you gave it to him. he was one of the first guys you'd dominated like that. it was empowering, controlling a guy as big as Chanyeol was. it was an addictive sensation.

but you'd made it very clear from the beginning that it was going to be nothing more than sex. it wasn't romantic, you weren't friends, and you had no intention of getting to know him on a deeper level than his body. though, he seemed suspiciously intent on worming his way into your life one way or another. the boy was relentless. luckily, you were equally as stubborn. a match made in hell, aren’t you? what a spectacle.

you drew away from the kiss at the feeling of his tongue prodding at your lips, a low whine following soon after. you scoffed softly at the sight of his pouting face, “so needy.”

“you can only blame yourself.” he shot back easily, eyes already hooded and darkened with lust. excitement glimmered within them as you reached down between your bodies, fingers slowly undoing his belt.

“is that right?” you murmured, not breaking eye contact for a single moment, a lazy smirk resting on your face. he swallowed, trembling pupils jumping noncommittally from your intense stare down to where you were making easy work of his belt buckle.

“i— yes.” you don’t think he knew what he was saying yes to, his mind already becoming a muddled mess from the promise of what the night had in store for the two of you. his rationality had a nasty habit of hopping out the window whenever you got him in this position.

“what are you hoping happens tonight, Chanyeol?” you asked softly, slowly pulling his belt from the first loop of his jeans.

he swallowed thickly, head beginning to swing back and forth is slow swoops. “i– i don’t—” his voice broke off with a strangled whine as you allowed your fingertips to caress ever so gently over the ever growing tent in his pants.

you raised a brow into a questioning arch, stifling a smirk of amusement at his already flustered state. “it’s a simple question.”

his cheeks pinkened. “i just… want you.” it almost came out more as a question than a statement, words shy and hesitant.

“want me to what?” you pressed.

“to… to kiss me.” his gaze fell onto your lips, his own parting.

“kiss you?” you repeated, tone on the verge of taunting. “asking for a lot there, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

you were teasing him, but he didn’t seem to mind, blinking slowly as he dragged his tongue over the pink swell of his thick lower lip. “want you to touch me…” his voice lowered an octave, deep, lustful eyes looking up at you intensely.

“where?”

“everywhere.” he replied without missing a beat. “anywhere. just— just want your hands. or your mouth. i’ll take anything that you give me… but you already know that.”

you really loved the sound of his voice when he got like this. it was softer than cotton and smoother than silk, rumbling so deep in his chest that you could almost mistake it for purring. it spilled off his lips like the thickest, sweetest honey, so lush and lovely, dripping with shameless desire. something about it was so soothing. and the sounds he made were even better, his guttural groans and melodic moans were nothing short of symphonies. and you were the conductor.

chuckling, you smirked down at him. “you’re right. i do already know that.” he gasped as you suddenly yanked his belt completely free. “now be a good little bitch and grab onto the headboard.”

he eagerly complied, capturing his lip between his teeth as he watched you bind his wrists above his head. his eyes slowly dragged over your face, drifting over the length of your neck, following the smooths swells of your chest beneath your black tank top. a low groan slid from his lips as you pressed your hips forward slightly, just barely grinding against his growing erection. his eyes snapped up at the sound of your soft laughter.

“my eyes are up here, sweetheart.” you hummed, pulling his belt taught before looping it around one of the vertical wooden bars.

“and beautiful eyes they are.” he grinned up at you in that boyishly charming way, shooting you a playful wink. you scoffed, hands drifting down to rest on his firm chest before one raised to grip his jaw, tilting his head upward. lowering your own head, you allowed your lips to caress teasingly over his.

“maybe i should gag you, too. keep that pretty mouth in check,” you mused, dragging your thumb slowly over his full lips, “but unfortunately i think i enjoy the sound of your voice almost as much as you do. especially when you're moaning my name. god it’s so hot.”

you almost growled as he took your finger into his mouth, moaning softly around it. you swooped down, swiftly replacing your finger with your lips. the kiss was deep, rough, and hungry. distracted by your weaponized tongue, he didn’t process that you were unbuttoning his jeans until they were being pushed down his thighs and your hand was gripping his arousal through his thin black boxers.

“fuck, (y/n),” he groaned deeply into your mouth, arms gently tugging against their restraints. you dragged your lips away from his, face lowering so that you could suck your mark onto the expanse of his neck. he sighed blissfully, hot breath rushing over your ear as he subtly rolled his hips, body temperature rising steadily. you bit down on his collarbone, hands pushing up under his shirt to feel at his toned, well built torso. he was so hard, muscles rigid and protruding, so warm to the touch.

it was rather amazing. a guy as big as Chanyeol, as strong and as confident, could easily get the upper hand over you if he wanted. he could flip you over and pin you down without so much as breaking a sweat. but he didn’t. he let you pin him down, tie him up, dominate him, mind and body. he allowed himself to submit to you, to be taken by you: slowly, quickly, roughly, gently, he didn’t care, but dammit he enjoyed every second of it. and if that didn’t give you a rush of power, then you don’t know what could.

goosebumps rose across his honeyed skin as you pushed his shirt up to fully expose his tight body to your ravenous eyes, a chill rolling down his spine when you lowered your mouth to latch onto the smooth swell of his pectoral. he moaned quietly, back arching as you peppered kisses down his abdomen, slowly shifting lower, lower, lower… until your face was level with his bulge.

a sound of excitement flooded past his lips, his breathing becoming rapid and deep. “really?” he asked hopefully, voice breathless and light. a slow smirk crawled across your lips and you chuckled at the way he jolted with a moan when you pressed a slow kiss to his clothed arousal.

“really.” you hummed in confirmation. “you said you wanted my mouth, didn’t you?”

he frantically bobbed his head. “yes. yes, god yes. please.” you almost laughed at his shameless display of desperation. he let out a deep, strained groan as you flicked your tongue over his clothed erection, head falling back.

“ah ah, eyes on me, baby.” you scolded mildly, squeezing his thighs in warning. he lifted his head without argument, face flushed and glistening with faint perspiration, lip caught in a tight grip between his teeth, brows furrowed.

from your viewpoint, he looked rather beautiful: arms bound above his head, exposed chest rising and falling dramatically with each deep breath, messy silver hair falling flawlessly over his hooded, lustful eyes.

and he in turn was also quite taken by how perfect you looked between his legs: smirking lips hovering right over where he needed them most, dark, penetrating gaze making his body tremble with an unspoken need.

your fingers slipped under the elastic of his boxers, slowly easing them down his thighs until his length sprang free. “there he is,” you murmured, tongue dragging over your lower lip as you admired him, long and thick and swollen, precum spilling over his hot, red tip. he shuddered in delight as you traced your finger over a vein.

“(y/n)…” his usually deep voice was pleading and airy, hands curling into tight fists above his head, “please.”

you smiled up at him innocently before delivering a teasing kitten lick to his sensitive tip. he whined softly, hips twitching as his need for you increased tenfold.

a slightly more sadistic side of you rather enjoyed watching him squirm. perhaps it was that hidden part of you that wanted nothing more than to tease him into oblivion with insubstantial caresses and borderline torturous kisses until he was writhing helplessly and there were tears spilling from those beautiful big brown eyes.

however, a larger part of you craved the sight of his stunning, fucked out expression. the one where his face glistened with sweat, thick pink lips swollen and red from being ruthlessly and relentlessly attacked by those pearly whites, puppy dog eyes hooded and fluttering, fighting to remain open against his mind's desire to just melt completely into the pleasure coursing like hot lava through his veins. that was the face you wanted to see more than anything.

a broken moan flooded from his gaping mouth as you fastened your lips around his tip, the taste of his salty precum immediately lathering your tongue. he trembled as you hummed lightly around him, mouth silently forming the words ‘oh god’ as the vibrations sent sparks of pleasure shooting through his body like static shock.

“feels good, (y/n),” he whined weakly, stomach tensing, “feels so good.”

your response was to thrust your head down and as much of him into your mouth as possible. he cried out, hips snapping up at the feeling of your gentle sucking. you were quick to pin them back down, a warning glare darkening your gaze.

“‘m sorry—,” he slurred, panting heavily, “i’m sorry.” he was quick to submit, fighting against the painfully strong urge to fuck himself up into your warm mouth and forcing his quivering body to go pliant beneath your ministrations. satisfied for the time being, you dragged your tongue from his base to his weeping head, tracing slow, taunting circles over his most sensitive place.

a broken moan was all he could manage as his cock twitched tellingly, precum spilling down his throbbing length. you fixed your lips back around his tip, sucking gently. his thighs trembled at the sensation it sent shooting through his veins, a breathless ‘oh’ pulsing from his pink-bitten lips.

“(y/n)— (y/n), if you keep doing that—” the warning was clear, but you wanted to see just how close you could bring him to his release before stealing it away last second. it was always fun to watch how hard he came down from his high when he was denied of it. it was delicious, the way he gasped and trembled, shuddering hips desperately seeking out more frictions, but never receiving it. he was so cute when he got like that.

“you gonna come, baby?” you cooed, replacing your mouth with your hand and shifting upwards so that you could look directly into his eyes. you wanted to be able to see the look in his pretty brown eyes when you stole away his release. he whimpered, head bobbing rapidly as he caught his lower lip between his teeth.

“please.”

you only offered a low, contemplative hum before a wicked smirk struck your features. “not yet.”

a sob broke from his lips as you drew away from his throbbing dick, his high stolen only moments before it could come crashing down over him. his hips bucked, desperately seeking the friction you so cruelly denied him of, but finding nothing but empty air in place of your warm touch. his muscles trembled, broken pleas spilling from his quivering lips.

“(y-y/n), no— please,” he gasped out, arms tugging against the sturdy binds, fingers aching to touch you, grab onto you, hold you.

you hushed him with sweet words, pressing a soothing kiss to the cut of his jaw, hands massaging the bulk of his muscular thighs and holding still his stuttering hips.

“fuck– i hate it when you do that.” he cursed weakly, glassy eyes peering up into yours.

“no you don’t.” you chuckled softly, brushing his damp bangs out of his face in an unexpectedly tender gesture.

“you’re right, i don’t.” he relented easily, the corners of his lips curling subtly.

a sudden silence fell over you, and it took you a moment to realize that he was looking at you with those eyes— the ones you knew all too well. the ones you’d told him plenty of times to drop. because those weren’t the kind of eyes you were supposed to look at a fuck buddy with. those weren’t the kind of eyes that just anybody could be on the receiving end of, most definitely not you.

“don’t look at me like that.” you warned, hardening your expression.

“i can’t help it.” he breathed. you felt your stomach twist. damnit.

“then close ‘em, Park. before I decide to blindfold you, too.”

it seemed your threat wasn’t very well received, as the smile adorning his features only expanded, the corners of his eyes crinkling endearingly.

“that doesn’t sound too bad.”

a dry laugh burst from your lips. “god, you’re so fucking submissive. how has nobody else untangled your little ruse, hm? acting all big and tough on the outside when all you really want is to be tied up and fucked like a horny little bitch. am i really the only one that’s got you figured out?” you hummed thoughtfully, tracing your fingers down his throat and caressing his collarbone.

“you’re the only one, (y/n).”

for some reason… you had a strange feeling that that sentence held more meaning than you were willing to decipher.

“you tell all your little side fucks that?” you taunted, disguising the slight tremor in your chest with a dangerous smirk.

he shook his head, gaze not wavering for a moment. “there’s no one else. only you.”

fuck. you needed him to stop talking. so, you did the one thing that always did the trick: shoving your fingers down his throat. he let out a muffled sound of surprise at the unexpected intrusion, a sound that easily melted into a low moan, his tongue immediately getting to work lapping at your digits.

“you talk too much.” you murmured, taking him off guard and eliciting a low groan from the back of his throat as you ground yourself down on his naked length. “you came to get fucked, didn’t you, sweetheart?”

he eagerly nodded his head, hips nudging up excitedly against your own.

“thought so.” you chuckled.

through wide, glassy eyes, Chanyeol watched you push yourself upright, straddling his thighs. just as he was about to ask what you were doing, you grabbed the hem of your tank top and peeled it off over your head, discarding it onto the floor, your pants fast to follow.

“fuck. you’re so beautiful.” he groaned deeply, ravenous gaze raking over your nearly naked form. you smirked at him cockily.

“i know.”

a surprised laugh erupted from his lips at your blunt reply, eyes glinting with something akin to admiration. “as you should.”

smiling to yourself, you swiftly climbed back on top of him, not wasting any time before grabbing hold of his throbbing dick. he let out a breath of appreciation at the contact, biting at the inside of his cheek. every muscle in his body tightened as you teasingly traced his tip over your clothed heat, his precum slickening the thin fabric.

“are you wet?” he asked weakly, voice so airy and strained that you almost missed it.

grinning devilishly, you toyed with the elastic. “do you wanna find out?”

“yes,” he all but hissed out, muscular arms straining against their secure restraints, “fuck— yes, please.”

“mmm, you sound so hot when you're desperate to get fucked.” you groaned softly, nudging your underwear to the side in order to slip his head through your hot arousal. he shuddered at the sensation, his pupils blown wide with lust as he watched you tease not only him but yourself as well with fleeting caresses of his needy length against your burning core.

“(y/n).” his deep voice had become little more than a breathless whimper singed with molten desire. you felt your pulse jump at the very sound of it, your own want for him swelling with every passing second.

Chanyeol let out a broken gasp as you sunk down on him, cursing weakly as you took him in inch by inch. a low hum vibrated on your lips at the blissful stretch, hot tendrils of pleasure igniting throughout your body.

“sometimes i forget just how good you feel inside of me.” you breathed out heavily, peering down at his already fucked out expression with a coy smirk.

“i could never forget.” he moaned, roughly biting his lower lip. a slow, deep grind of your hips had his head of unruly silver locks tossed back into the plush pillows, an unsteady groan of your name filling the hot, heavy air surrounding you.

“fuck, go faster.”

he realized his mistake only when your fingers were pressing into the length of his throat, all motion ceased. “is that how you ask for things?” you asked, voice dangerously calm.

he was quick to shake his head, eager to right his wrong. “please. please go faster.”

“that’s better.”

a rough sob is pulled from his flushed throat (which you’re almost certain will be raw tomorrow morning) as you fuck yourself down onto him. the pace was fast, hungry, rough. his back bowing off the mattress, hips pulsing upward, desperate to meet each thrust half way.

“(y/n),” you almost moaned at the sight of his body rolling beneath yours, muscles flexed and trembling, toned arms straining against the tight hold of his belt, the leather biting pretty red marks into his wrists, “i wanna touch you— please let me touch you. let me feel you, baby. you know i can make you feel good.”

his begging caused a playful grin to draw itself across your face. “should i?” you murmured thoughtfully, rolling your hips in slow, controlled circles. a low, throaty moan vibrated in your chest as he thrust himself up inside of you, just barely brushing over that perfect little spot.

“i can be so good for you. please… let me be good for you, (y/n).”

“well when you say it like that…” you sighed, feeling any remaining resolve come crumbling down.

excitement ignited in his dark eyes, and he watched with bated breath as you reached up, getting to work on freeing him from the binds.

the very moment the belt fell slack, releasing his hands, they were on your skin, eager and impatient, tugging you down into a heated kiss. it was messy and rough, all biting teeth and lashing tongues. not that you minded much, it was always fun reminding him who was in charge, one way or another.

his wandering hands eagerly explored the expanse of your body, squeezing, pressing, pulling. and you let him have his fun, let him push the limits, testing your boundaries with every curious prod and trembling caress.

it was only when you felt his fingers pressing into the swells of your ass and begin guiding your movements that you drew the line. it took all of a few seconds for you to have his wrists pinned down on either side of his head.

you pulled away from his lips was a disappointed sigh, tongue clicking. “still no restraint, i see? i’m disappointed. i thought you said you’d be good for me, yeolie? was that good?” he all but whimpered, his head, too muddled from pleasure to form coherent words, shaking remorsefully. “no… that was very bad. bad boy, yeolie.”

his dick throbbed so hard inside of you that you could’ve sworn he’d almost just come.

a scoff of both amazement and disbelief escaped your lips. “you like being called a bad boy?”

how ironic.

color flushed into his cheeks, embarrassment shining in his big, glassy eyes that were now refusing to meet your gaze.

“look at me.”

he gasped as you purposely clenched around him, thrusting your hips back until he was balls deep, successfully forcing his attention onto your face. you grabbed his chin securely between your thumb and forefinger, and lowered your head to the point where your lips were just barely brushing over his. his pupils were blown and trembling as they met yours.

“you wanna be my bad boy, baby?”

his jaw fell open, a thunderous moan breaking from his chest.

“yes.”

“say it.” you all but growled, tone leaving no room for argument.

at this point, he was too lost in his own desire to feel any real shame.

“i wanna be your bad boy.”

a triumphant smirk curled onto your face, and you rewarded him with a gentle kiss to his quivering lips. “you gonna come for me, bad boy?” he was already bobbing his head frantically before you’d even fully gotten the question out. you chuckled sadistically at his unabashed desperation. “should i let you?”

“(y/n), please— i don’t think i can— fuck.” he panted out, voice shuddering and breaking as you fucked yourself down on him at just the right pace to keep him teetering dangerously on the edge without completely throwing him over. you bit your lip, pleasure exploding like firecrackers in your veins as he thrusted into you. fuck, if he didn’t stop hitting that spot…

his hands curled into tight fists where they were pinned to the mattress, dull nails biting smooth crescents into his palm. noticing this, you took it upon yourself to weave your fingers through his, holding his hands in an unexpectedly tender display. only because you didn’t want him to accidentally hurt himself… that was all.

but, perhaps it was a mistake.

because that look returned to his eyes with vengeance, his features melting into bursting admiration and unspoken emotion. this time, you ignored it, too gone in your own pleasure to spare it a second thought. that’s what you convinced yourself of, anyways.

he was pulsing intensely against your slick walls, twitching cock threatening to erupt at any given second. you could tell he was fighting to hold himself back, the veins in his throat growing prominent from the strenuous effort. it was admirable in a way, how desperately he wanted to please you, even if it meant denying himself of the greatest pleasure of all. you’d encountered very few men with that kind of will power. so you couldn’t help but to respect it when you saw it in Chanyeol.

“you look like you’re about to explode.” you taunted breathlessly, lips pulled into a lust hazed smirk. “it’d be cruel of me to tell you to hold it, wouldn’t it?”

he whimpered helplessly, obviously not sure which answer would satisfy you and which would coax you into further torturing his already wrecked body.

you offered a rasping chuckled. “you’re lucky that i’m feeling rather generous today.”

something between a sob and a moan are thrown past his lips as you slam yourself down on him, purposefully squeezing your walls around him. he cries out your name desperately, imploringly. you know he can’t hold back anymore, no matter how hard he tries. his body was going to come whether he liked it or not. you felt in the way he throbbed and twitched inside of you, heard it in the way he groaned and sighed, saw it in the way his eyes rolled, body shuddering uncontrollably.

“come.”

and he fucking did.

his body stalled, back arching off the bad, hips sputtering up in sharp, quick thrusts, the sound of skin on skin contact resonating through the room. you cooed, relishing in the way he quivered and keener beneath you, mouth gaping silently for a few moments before growling moans finally broke through, rumbling so deep in his chest you could have easily mistaken it for thunder.

you let him fill you up, painting your walls with his release, knowing damn well your intentions once he was finished.

“that’s it, baby…” you cooed, releasing one of his clenched fists to caress his feverish face, tracing the lower line of his plump lip, swollen and red from his relentless biting.

“oh! look at that. you made a mess, sweetheart.” you purred, smirking wickedly as you watched his arousal drip out of you and onto his now half hard cock. he moaned at the sight, cursing under his breath. “I think it’s only right if you clean it up.”

his eyes snapped up to meet yours, excitement immediately burning with his hazy, blown pupils. that was your boy… always eager to clean up after himself. especially if it meant he could put his tongue and lips to proper use.

“fuck. ride my face. wanna taste you. wanna make you come.” he groaned breathlessly, freed hands reaching down to grip at your thighs, tugging at them impatiently.

you chuckled at how eager he was, happily obliging. you climbed up, repositioning yourself to hover over his flushed face, caging his head between your thighs. his fingers pressed into your hips, pulling you down and into reach of his greedy tongue. you couldn’t help the sigh that slid from your lips at the first contact, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his tongue dragging hungrily through your come soaked folds.

“that’s right. eat your come, baby. lick it up.” you breathed out heavily, fingers weaving through his damp silver locks.

he moaned against you, the vibrations sending chills rolling down your spine. it was like white hot electricity in your veins when he rolled his flattened tongue cover your clit, a sharp moan erupting from your throat.

“fuck, just like that. right there.” you panted, hips grinding down against his skilled tongue. “you’re so fucking good with your mouth, yeol.” his determination spiked at the praise, lips encircling your clit and sucking purposefully.

pure euphoria rushed through your veins, head falling back as your grip on his hair tightened. his rapacious hands danced across your body, fingers pressing hotly into your skin, obviously not having learned his lesson the first time around. though, you weren’t too keen on correcting him. especially not with the fire his touch was igniting across your body.

your hips stuttered as his tongue pressed inside of you, lapping at you hungrily. “tastes… so good…” he groaned brokenly against your arousal, hooded eyes devouring the sight of you falling apart above him.

if there was one thing Park Chanyeol loved– it was being the cause of your pleasure.

snagging your lip roughly between your teeth, you meet his searing gaze, your walls clenching around his invading tongue at the almost unbearable intensity of it.

“you like it?” you moaned, feeling yourself begin to climb your way towards release. he nuzzled against you, nose pressing against your clit as his tongue teased your entrance.

god… if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was trying to suffocate himself. knowing Chanyeol, he’d probably consider it the perfect way to go. perhaps you would have laughed at the thought had it not been for the molten pleasure numbing your mind and senses.

“i’m gonna come.”

at your breathless declaration, Chanyeol is quickly replacing his tongue with two of his fingers, fucking them up into you steadily while his mouth gets to work on your clit. it feels so good… you’re numb to pretty much everything else but the feeling of him, the sight of him.

and you find it’s just that that finally sends you tumbling over that ledge: the sight of those beautiful brown eyes, dark and eager, burning with unspoken emotion, pooling with crimson seduction. he’s breathtaking.

you shift off of his face carefully, a hazy, satisfied smirk settling across your face.

“what a filthy boy.” you purr softly, more so to yourself than him, delighting in the sight of his face, glistening from a mixture of both his and your own release. his lips curl upwards at the corners, sinful tongue peeking out to drag over them and savor the lingering taste of you, a low hum of appreciation rumbling deep in his chest.

his hands don’t leave your hips as you carefully lift yourself off of him, offering some much needed support for your still shaky legs. you flop down on the mattress beside him with a soft ‘oof’ and shut your eyes, taking a moment to catch your breath and gather your scattered wits. a few moments of silence pass, before your brow twitched in irritation.

“stop staring before i smack you.” even with your eyes closed, you can feel the heat of his gaze on the side of your face.

he chuckled unabashedly, not all too torn up about being caught. “sorry. i can’t help myself,” he paused, “you’re just so beautiful like this.”

sighing, you roll your head to the side, eyes fluttering open to meet his. “what’d i say about calling me beautiful?”

he pouts, looking like a scolded puppy. “not to say it after sex.”

“that’s right.”

“but it’s the truth!”

“Chanyeol.” you groan, throwing an arm over your face.

he huffs in annoyance rolling onto his side and propping his head up on his palm. “what’s so wrong with me saying that you're beautiful?”

“you know exactly what’s wrong with it.” you grumble, shooting him a pointed glare, one he is quick to return. rolling your eyes, you turn away from him. “i’m too fucked out to try and argue with you right now so can you just drop it?”

one of his arms snakes over your waist, and you inhaled sharply in surprise as he tugged you into his chest.

“Chanyeol—”

he was quick to disregard your warning tone, nuzzling his face into your neck. “i like to cuddle.”

“you know—” you began, scowling as he cut you off a second time.

“i know what we agreed to but come on… a few minutes won’t kill you.” he grumbled, low voice raspy with exhaustion.

the slight tightening of his hold around you told you that he had no intention of letting go any time soon. your features twisted into a scowl, eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling.

but your resolve to remain unphased wavered.

because, for a moment, you let yourself feel the warmth of his body against yours, allowing yourself to melt into it. it was a strange sensation, the comfort it brought you… the security. perhaps it was the aftermath of your orgasm. or maybe the exhaustion from a stressful week. or maybe something else entirely… regardless, you found yourself relaxing into him, into his hold, into his warmth. it wasn’t something you could really control. and even if you could, you weren’t sure if you would do anything different.

minutes passed. maybe two. maybe five. maybe twenty. you weren’t really sure. you could hear the muffled music still pumping through the speakers somewhere downstairs. dull footsteps and low voices passing outside the door every now and again. the soft glow from the still candle flickered soothingly over the pale walls.

a strange sense of calm had settled over you at some point. you weren’t sure quite when. all you knew was that if you listened hard enough, you could almost hear the steady beating of Chanyeol’s heart. his breathing had become slow and heavy, warming the side of your face with every exhale.

“are you…” you swallowed, throat unexpectedly dry, “are you asleep?”

you were met with silence.

sucking your lips into your mouth, you slowly turned your head. your heart faltered in your chest. “geez.” you muttered softly, a faint smile touching your lips.

he was knocked out cold, cheek smooshed up against the pillow, lips parted and puckered out, hair cast across the white pillowcase, a few locks stuck on his eyelashes. you lifted your hand carefully, gently brushing the silver strands out of his face. your fingers lingered on his skin, caressing ever so lightly over his cheek and jaw.

“beautiful.”

it took you a moment to realize that that word had just come from your lips. you jerked away like you’d been stung, eyes wide, and heart suddenly racing.

shit.

you were so fucked.

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aeon-knight · 3 years

Text

kirbtober day 3: kirby's adventure

redraw of something i made last year (og under the cut)

#perhaps i went a Little Bit Overboard with this one #oops oh well lol #kirbtober #kirbtober day 3 #kirbys adventure #kirby #my art

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marc-spectorr · 2 years

Text

love you like the sun came out

ˣ pairing: steven grant x reader

ˣ summary: steven spends an evening with two of his absolute favorites— the egyptian exhibit at the museum and you.

ˣ warnings: purely fluff + cheesy love declarations but we need it ;_;

ˣ a/n: this is just a ficlet i whipped up after bawling my eyes out at the end of episode 5. marvel better watch out bc i’m sending them a bill for my therapy this week lololol. hope you enjoy!

- ☾-

“...And over here we have Osiris, the god of the underworld,” Steven enthusiastically points out, his pure excitement seeping from his voice. “Osiris had been the pharaoh of Egypt until his own brother Set murdered him out of jealousy.”

He stands beside you, oh so full of glee, and you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face. It’s quite endearing, causing your heart to flutter out of control. Steven had practically counted down each day leading up to this moment— a casual date at the museum, the first of what he hoped would be many more to come.

Acting as your personal tour guide, Steven saves the best for last. The Egyptian exhibit is his ultimate favorite, something he couldn’t wait to share. Spending time with you surrounded by the most fascinating artifacts in ancient history is the cherry on top of an already perfect evening.

“What happened after?” You question Steven, your genuine interest fueling his eagerness.

“Well, Set dismembered Osiris’ body and disposed of it into the Nile. Osiris’ wife Isis was devastated by his death. She then decided to search for her husband, and when she did, she put him back together and used her magic to resurrect him!”

“Ah, isn’t that romantic?” you quip, and it earns you a light chuckle from Steven. “Tell me more, babe?”

“Y-Yes! Hmm… let’s see who we else we’ve got here—”

For the next hour or so, you follow Steven as he jumps from one antiquity to another, revealing to you the story behind each one. It’s obvious to almost everyone how fond he is of Egyptian lore. He’s always so passionate when it comes to it, constantly spewing out historical tidbits with every chance he gets.

You adore it, of course. You adore how happy and animated Steven becomes as a result. It makes you truly happy seeing him this way.

“So, this pretty lady right here is Hathor, goddess of love and joy. She’s also the goddess of music, and she— oh, um… Y/N?”

“Oops, sorry, I missed it. You were saying?”

Snapping out of your daze, you see Steven seemingly become worried as he starts glancing at the floor, now unsure of himself. He must have assumed that you were no longer interested or had grown bored, which was extremely far from the truth.

Before you could speak, an announcement plays over the speakers—the museum will be closing in fifteen minutes. Your heart sinks to your stomach when the smile on Steven’s fades, his tone expressing disappointment as he mutters, “I guess that’s it for today.”

“Wait, Steven,” you said, taking a few steps forward to close the distance between you and him. “We’ve got fifteen minutes still. Please, continue.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you up so late. I know I’ve been talking non-stop in the last hour, and it’s fine if you want to go home.”

A heavy sigh then escapes your lips. “Steven—”

“Maybe Donna was right. Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a tour guide after all—”

“Steven!” You catch his attention, stopping him in the midst of his ramblings. “Sweetheart, where is this coming from?”

He shrugs emptily. “I-I don’t know. I thought that perhaps I went overboard with the whole mythology thing and probably lost you as an audience somewhere along the way. It’s okay; I’ve been told that I tend to be a bit too much, and I should have toned it down tonight. Gosh, I just ruined our date, didn’t I?”

You’re quick to shake your head no at his last statement. Exhaling, you cup his cheeks, your eyes then searching his. “Steven, this night has been perfect for me. I love each minute of it and want even more. I love how excited you get when you share these stories, and I love listening to every word you say.”

You pause for a second, glancing at the figure of Hathor on the side. “Goddess of love, right?”

“Yes,” Steven nods, “Joy and music, too. Also, she’s the goddess of the sky and fertility and—”

You don’t let him finish this time, not when you suddenly capture his lips in a sweet kiss, one he doesn’t seem to mind at all. It’s slow and tender. Gentle, like the kind of man Steven is. You hold him close, feeling him smile through the kiss, which only ends when a patron walks past and clears their throat. Prude.

“Well, in the presence of Hathor, I would like to say that I am in love with you, Steven Grant, and would love nothing more than to listen to you talk about Egypt all day and night.”

The smile on Steven’s face widens to a grin. His doe eyes lock onto yours, admiring you as if you’re the most beautiful creation since the great pyramids of Giza themselves that were built thousands of years ago. “In the presence of Hathor, I too wish to declare my love for you.”

“Well, there you go. Now that that’s out of the way…” you giggle, squeezing his cheeks and then placing a small peck on his nose. “We have around ten minutes left at the most. You’re going to tell me everything there is to know about Hathor until security kicks us out. Afterwards, I’m immediately buying us tickets online for next time so that you can finish touring the exhibit with me. Deal?”

Steven is left momentarily speechless, and you take advantage of his buffering mind to steal yet another kiss.

When he finally does find his voice, he gives you a little laugh, and it is absolute music to your ears. “Sounds like an amazing deal to me.”

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight x reader #steven grant fanfic #marc spector fanfic #oscar isaac #steven grant imagine #marc spector imagine #moon knight #moon knight fanfic

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jarofstyles · 3 years

Note

more gang/mafia harry. literally anything ur heart desires I just want gang/mafia!harry

Ok…. So maybe went overboard with this, but dark Harry feeds the soul (or takes it lmao)

But this is what I imagine he’s like when someone threatens or attempts to hurt Y/N.

TW/ guns, violence, blood, bad language and just altogether dark oops

—————

Harry wasn’t a man to cross.

It was known by almost all. And when you say almost, it’s because a select portion of the population doesn’t seem to care much about their lives. At all.

It was widely known that he was brutal. Harry didn’t give second chances, sometimes he barely gave a first. You simply didn’t fuck with him. Period. He was protective of his own and the consequences of messing with them were showing to be quite deadly.

There weren’t many things that he held dear in his life. His mum and sister, yes. His core group of inner men, though even to them they may not know it. But Y/N was at the very top of that list, and that unfortunately made her a target. A large one.

Harry had people watching for her whenever she left. Perhaps that was excessive to some, but he would damned if he let anything happen to the one beam of sunshine in his life. She was his joy, his love, his breath. And no one fucked with her.

When they did, though? It wasn’t pretty.

He had gotten the call that a man had been tailing Y/N as she did her day to day. Sitting outside her apartment, waiting for her to leave. When she felt someone following, she called Harry and immediately he had his men on it. Surrounding the car before he even knew what happened. And while Harry usually didn’t do dirty work himself…. This was a very special occasion.

“I suggest shutting the fuck up.” He rolled his eyes as the guy tried to babble out excuses, Harry rolling up his sleeves as he walked into the room. His demeanor was dark and heavy. Angry. Livid. Because the man tied in front of him had nefarious intentions with his angel of a woman, and he wouldn’t be unpunished.

“You’re going to nod yes or no.” Harry took the gun from his waistband and cocked it, flicking off the safety. The man trembled in the seat, nodding yes frantically. God. Pathetic.

“You had rope in the trunk of your car. Rope. Chains. A few knives. Plastic bags. Weapons. Light fluid. Correct?” He listed off, internally roaring with rage while on the outside still remaining cool. “Don’t just sit there like a fucking idiot. Yes or no?” He clenched his jaw as the man nodded his head.

“You did. I saw it. And you were following my angel around. Yes or no?” He stepped closer, fist clenched against his side. Again, he nodded. This man was done for. “That was a mistake. You’ve got the be the stupidest person in the world. Did you think it was going to be that easy?” He took the gun and pressed it under the coward’s chin to lift it up. “Did you?”

The venom in his tone was felt in the room. It was known then that this man wasn’t going to be okay. “What were you going to do, Bradley? Hm? Were you going to hurt my angel?” His breathing picked up, waiting for a nod or a shake of the head. When he didn’t get one, his hand drew back and slammed right into the man’s face with a sickening crunch.

The man’s howl of pain only angered Harry more. How dare he think he had the right to make any noise when he was going to hurt his girl?

“Yes or no, you fucking piece of shit.” His growl was deep and he sounded truly evil. At the moment? Harry felt it. He had done a lot of fucked up things in his day, but the things he was envisioning doing to this man who threatened someone so pure and genuine? They were sick. He probably needed therapy.

“Yes! Yes, I’m sorry!” He sobbed when again Harry’s hand came up and hit him with force that nearly knocked his bound body and chair over. Blood poured from his nose and his lip was split. There was no remorse from Harry.

“You’re sorry?” He snickered, shaking his head. “You’re going to be. You’re going to tell me who hired you, you sick fuck. And then I’m going to make you regret everything. Taking this job, scaring my girl, the day you were fucking born. The girl you were going to harm has no play in this. She’s mine. That’s it. And you’d think that you’d do a bit of research into just who you’re going to hit.” His green eyes were black with rage.

“Boss? Y/N’s in your office. She’s shaken up, you should probably go see her before you get too dirty.” A voice behind him let him in, making his spine straighten up again. Y/N was always the priority, regardless of how bloodthirsty he felt right now. He needed to make sure she was okay.

“I’ll be right there.” He spoke lowly, stepping back from the man who had just signed over his life. “You sit tight. I’ll be right back after I make sure my fiancé is doing okay. Your life has been extended a few minutes due to her. Thank whatever god you believe in because when I come back, it isn’t going to be a fun ride to meet them.”

Before leaving the room, he lifted the gun and pointed it at the man’s knee, pulling the trigger. The loud bang filled the room, along with the screams of the man as the door shut behind him. It was fine to comfort his girl.

When he had her shaking form in his arms, her tears soaking his shirt, gently soothing her terrified soul, he felt that rage raise again. No one got away with hurting her.

#harry angst #angst #blurb #gangrry #gang!harry #mafiarry #mafia Harry #blurbs #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #Harry styles angst #protective Harry #harry styles fanfic

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voiceless-terror · 3 years

Note

Hi ily and I love bothering people with prompts, so I'm requesting "a character who’s so exhausted his hands are trembling, his eyes are dull/unfocused, he’s starting to hallucinate… and his team needs him to stay awake" with Jon and literally anyone at any time (except s5 because it's too emotionally taxing for me to keep up with oop-)

Hello there, Shannon! Here you go! This takes place in Season Two, when all is not great with the Archives team. Hope you like! <3

“And you’re sure this requires all four of us?”

“Yes, Jon,” Elias sighed, his annoyance clear even through the phone. “Believe it or not, I am trying to help you. You’ve managed to alienate almost all of your staff, so perhaps this will do you some good. You seem to enjoy ‘following-up’ these days, unlike in your first months in the position.”

That stung a bit.

It wasn’t his fault someone had died in the Archives, and that someone happened to be his predecessor. It was a natural reaction to feel some paranoia, though he will admit he might have gone a little...overboard, in some of his investigations. Tim certainly thought so. Sasha was her usual cool, aloof self avoiding him as much as possible. Martin was the only one that treated him the same, probably better than he deserved after accusing the man of being a possible murderer. He dragged him out to lunches and hovered in the evenings when Jon stayed late. He was the one who accompanied him to the clinic after his incident with Michael. Jon couldn’t help the ache that went through his chest when he saw Martin still in the lobby, waiting to take him home and fussing over his bandages.

Walking him to his door.

And now Elias, of all people, was deciding to be more ‘hands-on’ after the intervention. The intervention where even Martin held him at arm's length, though he was still the friendliest face in the room. If this meant keeping his job, he would do it.

Though he wasn’t so sure he even liked his job anymore. But Jon kept pushing forward. He needed answers.

Telling his assistants was another story.

He stood in front of them, knowing he looked a mess. He’d seen himself in the mirror this morning after another failed attempt at rest. His hair was a mess, the dark circles under his eyes were turning a lurid purple. He looked waxy and gaunt and nothing he could do now would fix it. So he kept drinking his tepid black coffee and cheap energy drinks; frankly, they were the only thing keeping him going.

Nevertheless, he didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

“Seriously, Jon?” Tim wasn’t fond of using ‘boss’ anymore, not unless he was feeling particularly vicious. “It would be fine with two of us. Me and Martin can go and take shifts. You look like the living dead.”

“Tim,” Martin admonished, shooting him a look. “He’s right, though. You don’t look well, and I don’t think an all-night stake out is what you need right now. I mean, why are we even following up on this? It’s just some ‘vampire’ sighting that’s not going to pan out. Don’t we have more important things to be focusing on?”

“Elias insisted,” Jon tried for apologetic but must have missed the mark, judging by Tim’s narrowing eyes. “I’m- I wouldn’t make you do this, but I’m afraid-”

“Why does Elias even care about this?” Tim interrupted, slamming his drawer shut dramatically. The sound made Jon flinch- that wasn’t hard to do these days. “Did you even try to get out of it?”

“Of course I did,” Jon bristled. “I know- I know the last thing anyone wants to do is spend time with me. This wasn’t my idea-”

“That’s a bit hard to believe, Jon,” Sasha’s voice was mocking, though it remained light and easy. Sasha was always ready with a barb or a joke, mostly at Jon’s expense. “I’d think you’d enjoy this sort of thing- stalking, investigating. Or is that just with your co-workers?”

Tim snickered. Even Martin had a bit of a smile on his face, though he tried to hide it. Jon felt his face flush red.

“That’s not,” Jon began a defense but quickly backtracked, knowing it would be futile. “Elias wanted us to go tomorrow night. It’s about thirty minutes away, so if you don’t mind driving, Tim-”

“Anything for you, boss,” Tim muttered. “If you could try sleeping before then, that would be great. I filled my quota on catching you collapsing on the job.” The words were unnecessarily sharp and hurt Jon more than he cared to admit. He remembered a time when Tim was always around to lend him a hand, conscientious and kind. But he’d gone and ruined that now, hadn't he?

“I’ll be fine,” Jon straightened his back, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Tim snorted and turned back to his desk, Sasha did the same. Martin just stood there, giving Jon an appraising eye. It made him feel like he failed an exam or came up short on an examination.

This should be fun.

_______

Sleep eluded him for all but an hour that night. The face that greeted him in the morning looked even more horrific than the day before; Tim wasn’t far off in his assessment. He said as much as Jon entered the office.

“Christ, this is going to be fun,” Tim rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair as Jon hunched in on himself, defensively clutching his extra-large coffee.

“I did sleep,” he bit out, avoiding the man’s eyes. It was true.

“Sure. Just try taking a fucking nap this afternoon, okay?” The words sounded almost concerned, but Jon knew better. “I’m not listening to you snore in the backseat all night.”

“I’ll try,” Jon grumbled as he exited the room. A sudden sting hit his hand and he hissed; coffee had spilled from the lid of his to-go cup and was now running a scalding stream down his arm. His hand was shaking, a steady and insistent tremor that refused to calm despite his best efforts.

I’ll sleep this afternoon, he promised himself. Something’s gotta give eventually, right?

_______

Jon was wrong. Just my luck.

After two fruitless hours of tossing and turning, he finally gave up, leaving the office to grab a couple of energy drinks that he could hide in his bag. And now he was loaded in the backseat of Tim’s car, his heartbeat erratic and his chest tight. Martin had provided them all with coffee, though he handed Jon his with some reluctance.

“Are you sure you’re okay-”

“For the last time, yes, Martin!” The words came out harsher than he intended and Martin flinched back, avoiding Jon’s eyes as he got into the passenger seat beside Tim. “Don’t yell, Jon,” Tim commanded as he started the car. “God, you always were a right bastard when you’re sleep-deprived.”

“M’ sorry, Martin,” he mumbled to the ground. It was easier to focus on something stationary- whenever he looked out the window, his vision blurred and nausea churned in his stomach. And that’s why you don’t have energy drinks on an empty stomach. Stupid, stupid.

“It’s fine, Jon.” It didn’t feel fine.

By the time they arrived at the park where the supposed sightings took place, it was already dark. Tim had the radio playing softly in the background as he and Martin murmured in the front seats, a low sound Jon couldn’t hear. He wondered if they were talking about him.

Not everything’s about you. He shivered in his seat, drawing his coat tighter around his body. Sasha shot him a glance; she always had the hint of a smile on her lips, cold and calculating. As if Jon’s situation was amusing to her. Maybe it is.

He wished Martin was back here with him. Martin was warm, solid, and steady; Jon craved that, embarrassing as it was. But Martin likely didn’t want to be around him; unsurprising, with how Jon’s behaved.

The steady drone of sound was pleasant, a nice background hum that relaxed him incrementally. The occasional heart palpitations were starting to slow, and Jon felt himself relaxing for the first time in days. It was a sweet, blissful relief- surely a small nap wouldn’t be terrible, just enough to keep him going through the night-

A sharp jab in his side jolted him awake. He shot up with a yelp to find Sasha smirking, her face unreadable. “Don’t sleep on the job, boss.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, rubbing at his eyes and wishing for just a short reprieve. But the blurriness was worse now and his heart was back to its erratic rhythm- Sasha’s rude awakening had done its job.

“Maybe try looking out the window,” Tim suggested sarcastically. “We are here to do a job, you know. Not so you can zone out and sleep.”

“R-Right.” Jon didn’t mention that nobody else seemed to be doing the same. Still, he focused on the dim light emanating from the one streetlamp in the park. It was just an empty field at the edge of the woods. It would be hard to miss anything.

This went on for an hour, Sasha continually nudging him awake whenever he started to drift off. She was probably doing him a favor- who knows what horrors lurked in his nightmares, and the last thing he needed was to wake up screaming like a lunatic. He imagined word getting round to Elias that he was falling apart, even more unstable than previously thought.

And then something moved out of the corner of his eye- a small, dark shadow was standing in the middle of the park, barely visible by the light of the streetlamp. Jon let out a choked gasp as he leaned forward, hitting the back of Tim’s seat.

“L-Look!” he whispered urgently, pointing ahead. “Someone- someone’s there?”

“Where, Jon?” Sasha’s voice beside him was amused, playful. “I don’t see a thing.”

“Right there!” He insisted, and as if on cue the figure began moving forward, edging closer to the light. “It’s moving!”

“Jon,” Tim started, looking back at him with an inquisitive gaze. His voice was slow and measured. “What are you talking about? There’s nothing there.”

“There is!” He was aware he was begging now, a pathetic plea to just look, it’s right there, can’t you see?

Martin reached a hand to his shoulder, all concern and worry. “Jon, I promise you there’s-”

And that’s when the figure revealed itself, standing clear under the light. It was a woman, tall and sad. Her long hair was pulled back from her face with a headband, and she had round glasses and looked so, so familiar-

Sasha, his mind supplied. That’s not right. Sasha’s right beside him.

Sasha. It was insistent this time. Jon put a shaking hand to the door handle and wrenched it open, practically falling out of the car as the others protested behind him. But he paid them no mind and stumbled forward on weak legs. There were footsteps behind him but it didn’t matter because Sasha’s there Sasha’s there-

And then she was gone.

The park was silent and still, almost serene. And Jon stood under the lamp, his chest heaving and his heart racing until he collapsed in the soft, dewy grass. Sasha was in the car. Sasha wasn’t here. But it doesn’t make sense. He gagged, hands and knees digging into the earth as nothing came up but a small amount of bile and coffee. A hand went to his shoulder but he wrenched it off, a frustrated moan bubbling out of his throat as his eyes filled with tears.

“Sasha was here,” he wailed, no longer caring if he made a scene. “Sasha was here!”

“Jon? Oh fuck, oh God what do we do, something’s wrong-”

“Just pick him up, Martin, get him back in the car!”

Jon was hauled to his feet but his legs were shaky and useless; Martin cursed and scooped him up instead, unbearably gentle. He tugged at Martin’s shirt, desperate for someone to listen. “Sasha,” he hiccupped but Martin just hushed him, squeezing him tighter to his chest.

“Sasha’s in the car, Jon,” He whispered soothingly as Tim opened the car door. “See? Right there!” Sasha, with her wrong smile and her wrong face and her cold, cold hands-

Jon let out a shriek, thrashing and kicking as Martin tried to place him in the backseat by that thing. “No no no,” he cried and tugged at Martin’s jumper. “I don’t want to I don’t want to-”

“Get in the front, Sash,” Tim commanded, something unreadable in his eyes. “He’s not going to stop freaking out until you do. Martin can sit in the back.”

“So fussy,” she said mildly as she opened the door and did as Tim said. “Is he going to be okay?”

Jon could barely follow the conversation as Martin awkwardly crawled into the backseat and tried to maneuver him into his seatbelt. But Jon couldn’t let go because Martin was real and there and the only thing holding him together at the moment.

“Just drive,” Martin’s voice was hard and unlike him, but he squeezed Jon tighter to his chest and that was all he needed to finally give into the darkness at the edge of his vision.

_____

When he next woke he was tucked into a bed- his own, strangely. Light filtered gently into the room and Jon felt like he’d been run over by a truck several times over; every part of him aching and groaning as he attempted to sit up.

“Jon?”

Martin stood in the doorway, the picture of anxiety and worry. “God, I thought you’d never wake!” He hurried over to the side of the bed and placed a hand to his forehead that Jon leaned into. “You don’t feel warm. You’ve been asleep for almost sixteen hours. Are you okay?”

“Define ‘okay,’” Jon croaked, leaning back into the pillows. Sixteen hours but he still felt like hammered shit. “What- what happened? Why am I here?”

“You don’t remember?” Martin’s voice somehow managed to sound more worried. “God, you were- you were really out of it, Jon. Ranting about Sasha- you wouldn’t get near her. I thought we should take you to the hospital but Tim insisted you wouldn’t like that.” Tim was always the one who knew him best. “He had a key so we dropped you off, but I thought someone should stay behind- I mean, is that okay? I don’t want to overstep or anything, but you were really bad and I couldn’t-”

“It’s fine, Martin,” Jon cut him off gently. It was touching, in a way, that Martin would want to look out for him after the fit he apparently threw. “I, uh- thank you, I guess.”

“Really, it’s no problem,” Martin said, leaning back on his heels and fiddling with his hands. “I-I didn’t want to leave you alone, and I didn’t think you’d want to wake up to Tim or Sasha-”

“God,” Jon groaned and slumped over in bed, shame coursing through his veins. ‘“I’ll have to apologize to her tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Martin agreed, though not unkindly. “But I think she’ll understand. You were exhausted, it’s not like you meant it.” I suppose that’s true, he thought. Just my paranoia out of control.

“I’ll make us some tea. You stay in bed, okay?”

“A-Alright.” Martin turned to leave the room but a thought logged itself in Jon’s brain and he reached a hand out to stop him. “Did you stop anywhere beforehand?” he asked. “Like the institute, o-or maybe Tim’s place?”

“No,” Martin replied, a puzzled look on his face. “Why?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jon closed his eyes and leaned back into the pillows, feeling utterly drained. “It’s nothing.”

Martin exited the room and Jon tried not to think about the key he gave Tim ages ago, back when they visited each other with some regularity.

And the idea that it was still on his keychain, waiting to be used.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27457939

#prompts #my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #tim stoker #not!sasha #martin blackwood #jonmartin #angst #sickfic #whump #postapocalyptic-cryptic

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barrysjumpsuit · 4 years

Text

the dark side (jj maybank x shoupe’s daughter) ch. 4

word count: 3.6k (oops)

warnings: underage drinking, cannabis use, vomit, physical violence, unedited

summary: catherine shoupe has the perfect life. when she gets hired by heyward to run groceries, she has a new coworker - jj maybank. as the deputy’s daughter, she can’t help but hate him. but when jj decides to bring her to the dark side and woo her over, cat not only has to hide her activities from her father, but learn who her father really is.

a/n: hi i wrote this in two days and it’s unedited but i’m living for this (also v important for plot)

please consider reblogging this if you enjoyed it, a lot of my tags still aren’t working!!!

get caught up on other chapters here! or check out my masterlist!

---

Being drunk was weird. On one hand, it was what Cat thought it would be like: she could see how so many people she knew would get plastered at parties with their friends. The world seemed a lot more beautiful to her, her happiness amplified. On the other, it was scary. She caught herself thinking things she would have never even considered. Maybe I’ll have another drink, she had thought when she was in the water with the Pogues. She liked the feeling of being free, and perhaps a little defiant.

She also liked the feeling of JJ’s hand on hers.

When John B pulled the boat up to the dock, Cat stood to help tie it off, but JJ pushed her back down. “Let us,” he said, and she pouted while JJ and Pope jumped off, tying the boat, while Kiara gathered the empty cans littering the floor of the boat.

“You good, Cat?” John B asked, holding out a hand, which she took graciously.

“M’fine,” she replied.

“JJ, get over here,” she heard John B call, and John B helped Cat to the side of the boat. “Up on this ledge here,” he said, and Cat carefully stepped up onto the side of the boat, John B behind her, holding onto her by her hips.

“It’s like the Titanic!” she exclaimed. JJ was suddenly in front of her, reaching out for her.

“Alright Rose, come here,” he teased, helping her off the boat. Her bare feet hit the soft wood of the dock.

“My shoes-” she started, but was cut off by John B.

“I’ve got your stuff, don’t worry,” he said. He dropped the shoes onto the dock before handing her clothes to JJ, and she drunkenly shoved her feet into the flip flops. John B whispered something into JJ’s ear before following Kiara and Pope up to the house.

“You think you can make it to the house?” he asked. “You can stay and sober up for a bit, until you’re okay to drive home.”

“I’m good,” she said, lurching forward, JJ’s grip tightening on her arm. “M’ dad’s gonna kill me.”

“You’ll be okay, Cat,” JJ was saying as she took careful steps.

They didn’t make it far until Cat was bent over the railing, vomiting. It was sickly sweet yet burned. JJ held her hair, and when it was all out, her body was shaking.

“Over here and sit down,” JJ was saying, and before she knew it, she was sitting on the wood of the dock, her knees up and her head between them.

She was still shaking, her head foggy, everything around her not seeming real. Was she really here, drunk, puke covering her bare stomach, with JJ Maybank?

The thoughts running through her head caused her to break down. A sob wracked her body.

“We’ll have to work on your tolerance,” JJ said beside her, jokingly, trying to ease the tension.

“I’m sorry,” was all Cat managed to choke out.

“Don’t apologize, it happens to the best of us,” he replied quietly from beside her.

“God, I can’t go home like this. My dad will kill me.”

The sinking realization of what she had done was almost enough to make her puke again. It warranted her shaking and her tears. She was smelly and drunk. She couldn’t even drive home. She had a curfew she couldn’t make and didn’t know what she was going to do.

“You’ll sober up soon, did puking make you feel better?” he asked, and Cat nodded slightly. “A cold shower always helps me. Do you want to go up to the house?”

Cat nodded again, and JJ carefully helped her up. She noticed her clothes draped over one of his shoulders. “Where’s my phone?” she asked, spinning towards him, panicked.

“I’ve got it in my pocket, kitty Cat, it’s okay.”

The nickname. Usually, she loathed it, but now, she loved it. She laughed softly before turning back around, slowly making her way up the dock and to John B’s house.

Going up the back stairs was almost too much. JJ practically had to carry her up them, and balanced her on his chest as he pushed open the screen door that led inside.

The house was warm and cozy. Everyone was waiting up, strewn about the living room watching Aladdin. It flipped a switch inside her, easily drawing her brain from the situation she had put herself in.

“I love this movie!” Cat exclaimed, earning laughs from everyone else.

“Don’t mind us,” JJ called, guiding Cat across the room and into a bedroom. “Nothing to see here.”

“Is she okay?” Kiara asked, and Cat threw a thumbs up towards her as JJ pushed her into the bedroom.

She wanted to collapse onto the bed, but JJ rerouted her into the bathroom. “Get in,” he said, holding back the shower curtain for her.

“What a gentleman,” Cat praised as she climbed in, sitting down on the floor of the tub.

“Holler if you need anything,” JJ said, turning the showerhead on, closing the shower curtain, and leaving.

Cat sat in the cold rain. JJ was right - it worked to sober her up quickly. She became more and more aware of her headache, and the feeling in her stomach was toned down to a constant slight nausea. It made her realize how tired she was, and that got her to thinking about how screwed she was.

JJ came back after half an hour, turning off the water and throwing her a towel. “You feeling better?” he asked, and Cat just nodded, her hair disheveled from drying it off.

“What time is it?” she asked from her spot on the toilet, her head in her hands.

“About ten,” JJ answered, and Cat groaned. “You need to be home?”

“I can’t drive,” she sighed, pressing the butt of her palms to her eyes.

“I’ll drive you and walk back. Does that work?”

“I just need a few more minutes here,” Cat said, not looking up.

“I’ll go get you some water,” she heard JJ say. He let out a soft grunt as he stood, closing the bathroom door gently behind him.

When he got back, he found her on her knees on the floor, vomiting into the toilet again. Cat instantly felt better; she sat and took sips of the water JJ gave her. She was vaguely aware of JJ slipping the scrunchie off her wrist, the fabric still wet, and gently tying up her hair so it was out of her face.

“Okay. I’m good,” she decided eventually, and wordlessly, JJ helped her stand. “Do you have my keys?”

A jingling sound was JJ’s only response as he opened the door. Cat was aware of the others watching them, eyebrows raised, eyes begging for information. “You alive?” Kiara asked from her spot on the couch.

“Yeah. Barely,” Cat replied, and she heard JJ chuckle, his hand resting on the small of her back, guiding her towards the stairs. She stopped and turned to the group before they exited the house. “Thanks for letting me come out with you guys tonight. I had a lot of fun.”

“Well, you’ll have to come again sometime,” Pope said, grinning. She noticed John B wink, but didn’t know who it was directed towards.

“Homeward bound, let’s go,” JJ said, and they stepped into the warm, muggy air. A mostly full moon lit up the sky as the two walked to Cat’s car. “This is a nice car, kitty Cat.”

“Don’t get any ideas, JJ,” she replied, climbing into the passenger seat and putting on her seat belt. She noticed JJ made no move to secure his. “JJ, you’re driving to a cop’s house, put your goddamn seatbelt on.”

“Oooh, where’d that come from?” he asked, and Cat could see his grin in the dim light. “Someone’s bossy.”

“Just shut up and drive.” Cat slouched against the window, her headache returning in full force as the car started moving.

“Do you have a good excuse thought up?” JJ asked, nodding at the clock on the dash. It was 10:39.

“No,” she grumbled, reaching for a pack of gum, hoping it would mask the smell of the sickly sweet alcohol-laced vomit her mouth tasted like. “I’ll probably just say I bumped into an old friend and we went out for desserts to catch up.”

“Where’d you two go? It’s late, not much is open.”

She realized he was right. “The dairy bar.”

“They close at 8 on weeknights, kitty Cat.”

“McDonald’s then, I don’t know. You have any better ideas?”

“Hmm,” she heard him muse, noticing him look over at her. “Say that you went to their house and went swimming, and you didn’t have your phone on you so you lost track of time?”

“That works too,” Cat responded quietly. Her mind was too muddled to think of any better excuse than that.

“It’s mostly true, anyway. So it’s technically not a lie.”

“But what if my dad asks questions?”

“Then put a spin on them. If he accuses you of something, you know what you should do?” he asked, and Cat shook her head. “If he accuses you of something, then you deny it, okay?” Cat nodded and the conversation died.

Luckily, the driveway was dark and the living room lights were off. They sat in silence before JJ made the first move, getting out of Cat’s car. Cat followed suit, meeting JJ in front of her car, and they stopped as they met each other.

“Thanks for taking care of me when I overdid it,” she said quietly, not able to meet his icy gaze.

JJ chuckled. “You handled it well. A hell of a lot better than JB handles going overboard some nights.”

“Really?” she asked, looking up, and he nodded.

“I’ll see you at work in a few days?” It was Cat’s turn to nod, and JJ smiled slightly. “Cool.”

“Be sure to drink some water before you go to bed and have water for when you wake up, okay?” JJ’s tone was soft in a way she had never heard before. Nodding, and found herself wrapping her arms around his waist, gently leaning her cheek against his shoulder.

“Thanks, JJ.”

There was a slight hesitation from JJ until he returned her hug. They pulled away after a couple seconds, and JJ stepped to the opposite side of Cat, beginning to disappear into the shadows.

“Sleep tight, kitty Cat,” was the last thing he said before he vanished.

---

“How you feel yesterday, kitty Cat?”

JJ’s voice made her jump as she was unlocking the cabin of the boat. He was strutting down the dock towards her, wearing only his cargo shorts and his black boots. His work shirt was thrown over his shoulder.

“Not that bad after about ten in the morning,” she answered, opening the door and throwing the key ring onto the table inside.

“Ah, well you got most of it out of you the night before then.” He easily jumped onto the boat, looking over the clipboard that detailed the day’s deliveries. “Pretty quiet day today, huh?”

“Looks like it. Pope said he’d get here with the first round of groceries in five.”

JJ busied himself with topping off the boat’s gas, while Cat met Pope and started loading up the groceries. “JJ, put your damn shirt on, boy!” Heyward had yelled at one point, packaging fish for their first customer.

“I’m working on my tan,” JJ claimed, posing with the nozzle of the gas pump. “How else am I supposed to get the ladies?”

“You don’t got much going for you,” Cat heard Heyward grumble.

She couldn’t help but feel like JJ’s last comment was directed towards her. Even Pope looked from JJ to Cat then back to JJ, but the blond had quickly brushed the whole encounter off and was carrying the gas cans back towards the boat.

Cat took both of them and placed them on the boat before JJ climbed up and began hooking up the gas line.

“We ready?” JJ called, and Cat yelled back a response and started the boat. Pope untied them and pushed them off as Cat brought the boat out into the water.

They had an uneventful day. JJ kept his shirt off until they hit land, basking on the bow of the boat in the sun for most of the day. Cat couldn’t help but notice he hadn’t done that before; something had definitely changed between them. She remembered the way that he put his hand on hers and held her while he was sick, and how he drove her home and his hands lingered just a little too long while they hugged.

She didn’t know JJ well, but based on what she had heard about him, he was a different person around her.

How did she feel about it? That question had been nagging at her. She liked this new, strange JJ. She liked knowing that he trusted her with at least some secrets, that he went out of his way to invite her to be with him and his friends. Was corruption the right word?

They docked at the Cameron residence for their second to last delivery. There was a note left with their order, that Ward nor Rose would be home, so they left a temporary code to the keypad that led into the house from the back door of none of their children were around to help.

As usual, they unloaded the groceries from the boat, opting to skip the carts since they didn’t have that long of a walk. It would only take two trips back and forth.

“Well this is a sight,” a voice called out, making Cat instantly roll her eyes. She looked over to see Rafe Cameron sitting on the patio, alongside Topper. Barry was there, too; the guy was treated almost like an urban legend in the Shoupe household, her father talking about him in a similar way he did about JJ. Rafe continued, leaning back in his chair. “Catherine Shoupe and JJ Maybank?”

“Some people don’t hold grudges. You should try it sometime,” JJ said, continuing towards the hose. Cat could hear the animosity in his voice and see the tenseness in his body. “Hey Rafe, how about you help us put these groceries away? Daddy’s orders.”

Rafe started laughing, and Cat was close enough to see two lines on the table, a plastic baggie nearby, held down with a cigarette lighter. Barry was grinning at the obvious tension within the group.

“Catherine, your daddy know you’re workin’ with Maybank?” Barry asked, his words slightly slurred but midly enthused.

“Oh, you’re one to talk, Barry,” JJ scoffed, setting the bags of groceries down by the back door. He gave Cat a look, and she did the same.

“It’s called ‘mutualism’. You ever learn that in biology?”

“Yes, Barry, I know what ‘mutualism’ means. Don’t act so surprised at us working together, Barry.”

“Ah, so you’re using her?” Topper was standing now. His voice sent chills down her spine; she had loved him, once. Two years ago. Topper was her first boyfriend, her first kiss, her first love, until he got caught up with Rafe and his illicit activities.

It had ended badly, and it was Cat who left him. She had threatened to tell her dad about what he was doing. He panicked, lashed out, and Cat ended it then and there.

At Topper’s comment, JJ had moved in front of Cat. “That’s not what it is!” he yelled, and Cat took a step back. Topper shook his head; he and Barry were standing now, Rafe still sitting back and enjoying the show.

“Cat, don’t let him-”

JJ punched Topper before he could finish his sentence. Cat was motionless, not knowing what to do, only springing into motion when Barry and Rafe jumped forward to pull Topper off of JJ. A flailing limb knocked Cat to the ground as she went in to grab JJ, and she winced as she felt her knee bust open on the hard rocks of the patio.

“That’s enough!” Barry yelled, shoving Topper into Rafe.

JJ had started back to the boat, leaving Cat alone with the three of them. Barry was staring at her, almost like he was urging her to ask questions.

“Cat…” Topper started, taking a step towards her, but Barry shoved him back into Rafe.

At that, she turned following JJ back to the boat, where he was dropping bags of groceries onto the dock. “They can get their own goddamn groceries,” he muttered. “We’re leaving.”

Cat untied the boat before climbing on. JJ was manning the controls, and she noticed he wasn’t heading back towards Heyward’s. Sitting down on the bow, Cat sat and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the words that came out of Topper’s mouth.

JJ soon pulled the boat into a quiet cove and dropped the anchor before climbing up onto the bow, his vape between his lips.

“Are you using me?” she asked him suddenly, looking up at him.

He slowly exhaled a thin cloud before answering. “I don’t think I am, no.”

“What kind of answer is that?”

JJ sighed. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know, kitty Cat.”

“Then tell me.”

Now it was JJ who looked up. Cat was aware of her shaky breaths, the tears threatening to spill from her eyes ever since she first saw Topper sitting at the table. “You’re not going to like what I have to say.”

“I thought you wanted to get me out of my bubble?” she countered, and JJ smiled softly.

“Well… it’s about what Barry said. About mutualism.”

“Okay…” Cat said, thinking it over. Two species benefiting each other. It started to make sense in her head. “Explain.”

JJ took another hit before responding. He spoke quietly, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear, even though they were alone in the cove. “Your dad, he’s… not really a good cop.”

Of course you would say that, she thought.

“But hear me out. I know he doesn’t have the best opinion of me. That’s okay. But Barry, he sells coke to my dad. Other people too.”

“Like Topper?” she grumbled, and JJ nodded before continuing.

“Your dad knows about his whole operation. Nobody on the island moves more product than Barry does. Shoupe agreed to let it slide for a 25% cut of everything Barry makes.”

Cat’s heart stopped. “He would never do that,” she said quietly. The tears were threatening to spill over. “He hates Barry.”

“Has he ever surprised you with anything? A vacation, gifts?” JJ pressed. Cat nodded, remembering the trip to Hawaii. Her car. Her brother’s purebred dog. “That’s drug money, Cat. Or stolen money.”

“Stolen?” she echoed.

“I’ve seen him pocket money from a hotel safe, a crime scene. About a year ago, it was fifty grand.”

If it wasn’t for the fact that her father had bought Cat her car, costing somewhere around fifty thousand dollars about a year before, she wouldn’t have believed a word JJ said.

“He spends the cash as quickly as possible,” he continued, trailing off as he saw Cat’s expression. “Hey, you good?”

Cat could only shake her head as tears dripped down her cheeks. She was too shocked to break down into sobs. These were angry tears, angry that this was being kept from her, angry that it even happened.

She was suddenly in JJ’s arms. He smelled faintly of weed, his juul laying abandoned opposite of her on the bow. Shaking, she buried her face into his shirt, forcing herself to take deep breaths.

“Are you using me too?” she couldn’t help but ask again. JJ shook with a chuckle.

“No, kitty Cat, I’m not. Hey, is your knee okay?”

She pulled away from him to look at her knee, which was bloodied and still slightly oozing from when she intervened in the fight. “It’s fine,” Cat quietly answered, but JJ already got up to fill a towel with ice from the cooler. He hopped back onto the bow and sat down next to her, gently putting the ice on her knee.

Cat shivered. The bubble she had lived in for so long had been popped, thanks to JJ. Her easy, simple life disrupted. She would have to go home after work and see her dad, knowing what she learned that day. She would have to drive her car and feed her brother’s dog, knowing why they were there.

She hated it.

After half an hour, when JJ got up to drive them back to Heywards, she tried to thinking about the good things that came out of all this. Remembering the feeling of the other night, how she got one final f-you to Topper, and the new friends she made the other night.

The low-lying sun outlined JJ dramatically as he brought the boat into the marina. He caught her staring and tossed a wink her way before easing off on the throttle, drifting to the dock and the awaiting Heywards.

Cat had JJ to thank for all this new knowledge and experiences.

Whether he was a blessing or a curse, she didn’t know.

taglist @letsgofullkook @stargazingstarkey @sortagaysortahigh @jjsmentalpolaroids @ims0golden @jjmaybcnks @shawnssongs @queenk00k @broken-jj @danielle-yeah @wicked-laugh @obxhoe @talksoprettyjjx @kt219567 @abrunettefangirlnerd @apoguecalledjj @rollinsstuff

#jj maybank #outer banks #obx #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank fanfiction

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labyrinth-runner · 4 years

Note

oop ok abby can i please get more to pirate!obi finding reader in the brig & bringing her onboard? you've honestly given me serotonin from your answer haha love you!

Kara, because I love you, I did this a day earlier that I had planned.

As of rn. This doesn’t have a formal name

Gif from:https://thecl0newars.tumblr.com/post/619119447899357184/obi-wan-kenobi-that-thing-he-does-i-love-him

Scenario: Based off this ask Kara sent me earlier this week. ALSO PLEASE COME TO ME FOR PIRATE!OBI Y’ALL

Word count: Little under 1700

No Warnings

Obi-Wan smirked as he swung from his ship to the one they were boarding. The dread pirate Hondo had been terrorizing these seas for so long. Obi-Wan was going to take back what was rightfully his, specifically a compass that would lead him to his heart’s desire. He had lost it after a drunken night of poker. By the time he woke from his drunken stupor, Hondo, his pants, and his compass were gone. Talk about getting fleeced. He’d been tracking Hondo ever since, determined to take back what was rightfully his. He’d finally caught up with him in the Corellian sea. The sea battle had been fairly limited, and now they had attached grappling hooks to board. There was always a sense of excitement in the air as he swung from his territory onto someone else’s. His men were diving into the battle, which was good. They’d distract the crew long enough for him to find what he needed and get out of there. He tried not to tangle with other pirates, you know, the Code and all. He did have some honor… for a pirate.

He snuck his way through the battles, delivering blows here and there as he needed to clear his path. Eventually he made it to the Captain’s quarters. He found it surprisingly empty. He assumed Hondo must be engaged elsewhere. Swiftly, he searched for his compass, eventually finding it in the man’s desk with other broken objects.

“Oh, Hondo, you never were very good at determining something’s worth if it had no monetary value,” he smirked. He tossed the compass in the air before catching it and tucking it into his pocket. “Now, time for some fun.”

Obi-Wan dashed into the fray, sword a-swinging. For all his grandeur, he really was one of the best swordsmen to sail the seas. It was almost second nature to him, his sword an extension of his arm. He made his way around the ship until he heard banging coming from down below.

“Skywalker, cover me!” He yelled to his first mate as he went down below. Below decks was empty of pirates, but he heard clanging, as if metal were striking metal. Odd, he thought, but then he saw you.

You were so thoroughly done with pirates at this point. You’d been captured by Hondo a few ports ago. Apparently he thought he could sell you to some wealthy dignitary, but you had been too much of a handful. That was how you found yourself bound, gagged, and placed in a cell. You had been stripped down to your knickers, Hondo figuring that at least your clothes had value, even if you didn’t. His intention was to maroon you on the next island he found. Instead, you were praying to the maker that you weren’t hit by a stray cannonball as you saw them cut through the hull of the ship around you like nothing. You wondered if perhaps you were being rescued by the royal navy. Oh yes, that would be wonderful. Surely your father’s friend, Admiral Yularen, would be a sight for sore eyes. You found the metal water cup in your cell and started to bang it over the bars to attract attention. You cried out, voice muffled by the gag of course, when you heard footsteps approach.

This was it. This was your savior!

This… was another bloody pirate.

Who was continuing to come your way, while staring at you. Lovely, you thought, he clearly has no manners.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” he smiled, leaning against the bars. He reached through to tilt your chin up. “It appears there’s a little bird in a cage. Would you like to be set free?”

You closed your eyes. Go with this pirate who at least wants to free you for some reason, or stay here with Hondo and be marooned? Well, there was not much of a choice to be made. You nodded.

“Alright, then,” he nodded back. He found the keys over on the peg across the room and unlocked the door. Without warning, he hoisted you over his shoulder. You let out an indignant sound as you started to hit his back. How dare this ruffian man handle you? You tried to yell at him to put you down! However, nothing resembling words could be heard around the gag.

He playfully whapped your butt with the broad side of his sword.

“Careful, Lass, wouldn’t want to make me drop you,” he replied. You could tell by the tone that he had a smug grin on his face as he took you up the stairs and back into the midst of the on-going battle. He took hold of a piece of rope, wrapping it around his hand as he stood on the edge of the ship.

“Ehhhh, Kenobi! What are you doing with my prisoner?!” Hondo called out after him. He turned to face Hondo and gave him a little salute.

“Finders Keepers, mate! You know the rules!” He yelled back before swinging back towards the Negotiator.

He unceremoniously dropped you on the ground.

“Alright, men, fall back or fall behind!” He yelled as he started to cut the grappling hooks free with a smirk. The ship lurched forward, already sailing away from the battle.

You heard footfalls as the men landed back on the ship. You were surrounded, and suddenly very nervous as they leered at you. A man with longer hair that the others came up to you, spinning you around to get a better look.

He let out a whistle. “I wasn’t aware we were taking treasure, Captain.”

You scoffed.

“She’s a woman, Skywalker, not a prize to be won or stolen. Never joke about a lady’s heart. The only way you can get that is if you earn it, and if you do, well… you best be treasuring it,” Obi-Wan replied, strolling back over to untie all your bindings.

“What are you to do with me?” You asked.

“Nothing yet, Lass,” Captain Kenobi smiled. “What happens next is up to you.”

He nodded to Anakin who proceeded to place a plank down on the deck, half over the water. Your eyes widened.

“What’s that for?”

“For you. You can either join my merry band of men or you can walk the plank. It’s bad luck to have a woman aboard, and I’m not entirely fond of dead weight, am I boys?” He called out to the crew.

They responded with a cheer. You swallowed. Well, you weren’t just about to jump off a ship after being rescued from another. That would just be foolish. But, you still felt the need to ask. “Why save me if you were just going to throw me overboard?”

“Ah-ah, darling,” he said, wagging his finger at you, “I’m not throwing you overboard. I’m giving you a choice, something that Hondo didn’t. Now, lass, what’ll it be?”

“Well, clearly I’ll join the crew. I don’t have a death wish,” you replied.

“Good. Although, you’ll have to find a change of clothes. Walking around in your underwear is rather distracting and affects the work quality of my crew,” he smirked, earning a bunch of wolf whistles from the crew. Captain Kenobi offered you his hand. “Come with me.”

You cautiously placed your hand in his, following him into his cabin. He dug around in a chest, presenting you with a baggy pair of red and white striped pants, a belt, and a billowy pirate shirt before shoving you behind his changing screen. You swiftly dressed before stepping back out into the room. You smirked, seeing his eyes widen and a slight blush creep up on his cheeks above his beard.

“Like what you see?” You purred.

“Be careful about stoking fires around here, little one, you’ll set the boat ablaze and be trapped on it,” he winked.

“Some like it hot,” you smiled back.

He chuckled, “I think I’ll enjoy having you around, lass. Now, you’re free to go where you like. I’m needed above deck.” He whipped out a compass from his pocket, smiling at it before leaving the cabin. You followed him out, walking to the bow as he walked to the stern. You leaned over the edge, noticing a figurehead there. You almost did a double-take looking at it.

“Admiring the view?” The first mate, Skywalker, asked.

“She’s beautiful,” you murmured, looking at the carved woman.

“Aye, that she is,” he said, a weird look on his face. “Looks a bit familiar, don’t you think?”

You tilted your head, leaning out a bit further to get a better look. She looked like you. “Who’s it modeled after?”

“That’s the thing,” Anakin said, “Obi-Wan, the Captain, doesn’t know. He had it commissioned based off a sketch of his soulmate that he got from some fortuneteller after they hooked up on the island Mandalore.”

“Is that so?” you murmured.

“Land ho!” A voice shouted from the crow’s nest. The crew around you, once idle, now began to work in a fury, readying to dock at the island coming up on the horizon. This could be your chance to find your way back home. You looked down at the ring your fiancé, Rush Clovis, had given you. You’d hidden it away in your clothes so that Hondo wouldn’t take it. Your life with him would have been comfortable, yes, but that wasn’t what you wanted. It wasn’t what you craved. No, you wanted adventure, and a love that consumed. You turned your head, locking eyes with Captain Kenobi. He gave you a smirk that lit a spark. You bit your lip, looking down at the ring in your hands. No, you wouldn’t be going home. Not today, not ever. With one flick of your wrist, you hurled the ring into the clear blue depths of the ocean below. A sense of freedom enveloped you, fresh as the sea breeze. It would be a pirate’s life for you, and somehow, it didn’t seem all that bad.

#Pirate!Obi

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