#vibrating to find out the truth about the witness one day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Premium Tumblr themes are available from anywhere between $9 to $49.

#vibrating to find out the truth about the witness one day

thefirstknife · 1 year

Note

Crack headcanoodle monday: the Winnower wishes to preserve the state of the game and the status quo. The Gardener is tired of one shape always winning and changes the rules to fundamentally alter the game and give other shapes a chance. Their estranged offspring, Witness, it tired of the endless, pointless cycle of life-death-life-death and wishes to raze the universe of all life so no one suffers anymore. It very much subscribes to the theory of "why live if you die anyway"/"why fight if you will lose anyway". It is soon to be taught a lesson by its creators it is rebelling against.

That's a really cool idea, omg.

I've been thinking about something similar, specifically that the Witness is maybe some sort of manifestation of the Winnower that it needed to place into the game.

Now, literally just now as I rewatched the starting cutscene I remembered something that I first thought of when I saw this scene:

Ghost Fragment: The Traveler 3:

The knife had a million blades.

This lore tab is a recounting of the Collapse from the Traveler's POV. The knife attacked with a million blades and "cut its godly flesh." It also "stole so much more than your body."

Blades would be the Pyramid ships. Their angles in that second image were always so peculiar to me, we don't usually see them like that. The look like blades, perhaps on a spear or arrow. Or a knife.

And well. In Unveiling the Winnower says:

I looked at the gardener.

I looked at my hands.

I discovered the first knife.

When they fought in the Garden, the Winnower "discovered" the first knife, possibly some sort of manifestation of the Witness that it's using to chase down the Gardener. In that sense, your theory is basically there; the Witness would be some type of progeny of the first conflict.

It's really evocative that the only time we've ever seen the Witness physically affect reality around it was when it did the slicening of the Ghost and Guardian and their ships (sliced, like with a knife). As it was passing through a beam of Light. Outside of that, it always appears through shattered glass or speaking through our Ghost. It doesn't do anything; perhaps it can't unless it's being directly affected by the Gardener. It can interact with that for which it was made; the original conflict between Gardener and Winnower. Otherwise, it needs Disciples to do its bidding.

The Witness is obsessed with bringing about the final shape and it believes it can only be done so with what it did; connected the Veil with the Traveler, opened a portal to an unknown dimension and... Currently unknown and characters are hard at work to figure it out. I am most interested in what it told the Traveler:

"The universe makes us all victim and perpetrator of its infinite cruelty. You, more than any, suffer both fates.

And:

"Be free."

I am currently obsessed with this and thinking it could mean that the way to enact the final shape would be to remove the Gardener from the game and effectively restart the universe. By "freeing" the Gardener from the body it used to enter the game (Traveler), and banishing it back to the original dimension it came from (the original metaphorical garden where the Gardener and Winnower fought), the final shape can happen. Originally, before the Gardener's change of rules, the final shape were always the Vex. Perhaps Sol Divisive know what's up. Or the Witness is simply using them and the ultimate goal is revert to a reality without the Gardener's rule and start anew.

Ghosts currently can't feel the Traveler, but the Light isn't gone. The Gardener may have been banished from its body, but its rule is still in effect in the universe. For now. In that sense, the Gardener is the victim of it all, but also the perpetrator, for enabling that rule in the first place.

This is all purely speculation ofc, but I've always wanted some really cool follow up on the Unveiling and the original conflict and possibly an explanation for a few things that are quite strange and are related to a dimension we haven't seen yet. The place outside of time and space, the original garden.

There's so much possibility here. We could be completely wrong or we could be entirely correct. Or a secret third thing (correct in wrong ways, or wrong in correct ways). I don't expect anyone to really guess what's up, but this is currently what's really interesting to think about until we get any sort of confirmation or denial.

#destiny 2 #destiny 2 spoilers #lightfall #lightfall spoilers #witness #traveler #winnower #gardener #lore vibing #long post #ask #this is super cool to ponder about #vibrating to find out the truth about the witness one day

56 notes · View notes

wheredostarsgowhenyoudie · 8 months

Text

Once upon a time when employees are being interviewed at SI:

Interviewer: So what is it like working for Iron Man?

Employee A: Oh! Easy question. I like that. It is an honor, you know. It's what I thought when I joined, and it still is now. But also, I did not expect that SI is a place where we are allowed to prioritize things like family. Like last time, I left my phone on silent at my desk cause I had to go to a meeting. My kid at home was having an emergency and I couldn't be reached. But apparently, Friday, Mr. Stark's AI, keeps track of phone vibrations so she made the report and someone came to notify me. I didn't even know there was a protocol for that. Turns out my daughter was having her period for the first time! And I'm a single father so I had no idea what to do and I was panicking. Next thing I know, an SI nurse came and apparently she was sent by Mr. Stark to walk me through how to help. Apparently, Fri also caught my panic rumblings and triggered 'YOU ARE NOT ALONE PROTOCOL' or something. (*laughing*) The next week, we received an official email introducing a new department called Human Care. They encourage everyone to reach out if we ever find ourselves out of our depths on non company emergency matters.

Interviewer: How long have you been working here?

Employee B: Eight years, two months, six days and counting.

Interviewer: What's the weirdest thing you've witnessed here?

Employee B: (blanks out)

Employee B (struggling to think): Ahm. Really? Just one? Er- That's a tough one. Maybe that one time they set up a room for everyone to try lifting Thor's hammer? Or wait, no, maybe that time there when flying roombas were everywhere following Mr. Stark and reminding him to eat? Or when a villain came via the vents but before he could come down, Hawkeye accidentally hit him with pepper spray? I don't know, man. Weird things happen a lot. We're used to it by now.

Interviewer: Do you feel safe working here?

Employee C: Yeah. The avengers live here. But to tell you the truth, I think Happy Hogan and his black tux team of agents scare all the potential bad guys away. I heard rumors that Black Widow personally trains them. Like, I know two of them. Jake, for instance. He's like a giant, and he is intimidating but I saw him crying one time and when I asked him why, he just said Mr. Hogan.

Interviewer: Which avenger have you met?

Employee D: Oh, I've met two of them. Captain America and Thor. It was odd but one time, they were in the cafeteria and carrying trays of food and I do not mean just one each. Nope. Like, a ton! Like they're feeding an army. But it makes sense. Can you imagine the workout? With bodies like theirs? And the battles they go to? Man, if I have to save the world from aliens, I'll probably need the same nutrition.

Interviewer: Which avenger is the kindest?

Employee E: Ahm...We all know they're all badass. But kindest, I think Spider-Man. Last Thursday, it was raining, and then Spidey suddenly came all wet and holding a box and I'm gonna quote him now. He said, "Friday, can you please ask Mr. Sam Wilson Falcon sir to come down? The shelter is close and I have a box of puppies and I really, really want to bring them up but Mr. Stark is gonna ban me from the lab again."

Interviewer: Aww. So what happened next? What did they do with the puppies?

Employee E (grinning): Falcon came down, alright. But he came with Iron Man who zoomed past everyone to drag Spidey to the penthouse. I am not sure what I heard but he was muttering about oven toasters and frozen spiderlings? In the end, aome employees volunteered to take care of them. But I believe two of them are at the avengers' floor. We saw Mr. Stark ranting about puppy paw paint marks on his armani.

Interviewer (gasps): Oh my. Was he mad?

Employee E (ends up laughing): Mad? Try grunting fondly? Peter really likes those puppies. Mr. Stark tried to act like he hates them but really, he adores everything about the kid, puppies included. He even had custom made collars with avengers logo made for them.

Interviewer: I'm sorry? The Winter Soldier was asking directions to where?

Employee F: The Lego Store.

Interviewer: How would you describe the workload? Do you still get work life balance?

Employee G: I guess it depends. I work in R&D and we're all nerds there. So like, we're typically busy but it's play for us. Some days, we're really cramped with work, mostly when deadlines are nearing or sometimes, we're just really in the zone, we do not want to stop. Peter activated 'NIGHT NIGHT PROTOCOL' for that. Had Fri lock us out of the lab and we had no choice but to go home or nap at the sleep wing. And would you believe? After the product launch, we got emails on mandatory vacation leaves with bonus to spend! Like, who does that? So yeah, it's cool working here.

And then, there was this:

Interviewer: How does it feel to be the heir of a multibillion dollar top green tech company?

Peter (stares quizzically, dumb-founded): Uhhh-....Look, sorry, I think I'm in the wrong room. I'm not- Maybe you got the wrong questionnaire? I'm just an intern-

Interviewer: Oh. Wait. Is it top secret then? Sorry, I was told of your identity as Mr. Stark's kid so I thought I could ask. But if you're not comfortable-

Peter: WHAT!?? Who said that? They're probably just joking.

Interviewer (chuckles nervously): Ms. Potts did actually.

Peter (freezes): Oh.

Suddenly the door opens and Tony walks in.

Tony: Hey kid, and Ms. Carrenland. How's the interview going? Thought I'd drop by for moral support, you know.

Peter (looks torn, but excuses himself to go to Tony): Uhm, Mr. Stark, can I talk to you for a second? Look, sir, ahm, I think there's been a misunderstanding. The interviewer asks me how it feels to be your heir. Like that's real. I don't-

Tony (has his brows rising to his hairline): Kid. Peter. Breathe.

Peter (groans and sighs embarrassingly): I just didn't want to lie! They mistook me for someone else. It was a misunderstanding!

Tony (smirking): It's really not.

Peter: What?

Tony: Kiddo, I was the one who gave Pep the approval to sign the questions. And really, you've been managing the R&D department and shadowing Pep at management for a year now. You never wondered why I make you do that?

Peter: Oh.

Tony: Yup. Genius child here.

Peter: I just wanted to help. You seem stressed out with the Avengers' work and dealing with the government. I thought I could lend a hand. I didn't- I don't expect you to- I'm not worth that, Mr. Stark.

Tony (scoffs): I beg to differ. Look, I'll be honest with you. Even if you aren't interested in the company, it's still gonna be yours. Look around you, kid. Do you think I let just anyone go around with a free pass at my tower? You have a room at my home. This place is your home, as where as everywhere else that I own. Plus, it's another motivation for you to take care of yourself when you go out as Spidey. Imagine all our employees. They need you, kiddo.

Peter (mumbling softly): I'm just Peter Parker.

Tony (smiles and pats his shoulder): And that is why I chose you.

#irondad #irondad & spiderson #ironfam #spiderson #spider-man #iron man #avengers #mcu #tony stark #peter parker & tony stark #peter parker tom holland #peter parker #stark industries #incorrect marvel #incorrect avengers #incorrect irondad and spiderson #fun fics

179 notes · View notes

littledollll · 1 year

Note

Hello! I really love everything you write, I know you must be busy but I have this scenario in my head that won't really leave me alone. It's a Larissa Weems x Reader angst with a happy ending and possibly smut? In my head it starts with unrequited love, reader is pining and courting Larissa, but L continues to reject r until r decides to slowly pull away and overall avoid her. Then groveling and pining Larissa, please give it a happy ending! Oh and if you can make it a smut with sub L, that would be so wonderful! Only if you want! Oh and if you decide that you can't or don't want to do this, it's completely fine! I hope you're doing okay!

Call it revenge

Larissa Weems x reader

A/n: two posts in one day!? What is this! Idk how long ago I got this I’m so sorry, I was looking though my inbox and saw this I just knew I had to write it!

Warnings: unrequited love at first (both sides at different times), pinning, flirting, SMUTTT, vibrators, begging, edging

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“If that Addams girl is making your life impossible I’d be happy to offer some stress relief, Ms. Weems” you had come in to hand over some files she requested, and saw Wednesday walking out of the office with a proud look on her face, clearly she had gotten under Larissa’s skin.

“Thank you for bringing this in, you may leave.” She didn’t even bother to look up at you before dismissing you, you replied with a quiet “of course.” And walked away.

Your attraction to Larissa was no secret, of course you kept an air of professionalism around staff and students but in the rare moments you two found yourselves alone together you were more than open about how you felt.

“You look beautiful as ever Principal weems, I hope your day is as lovely as I find you.” you wouldn’t fail to give her a compliment whenever you ran into eachother in the halls. Larissa would offer you a smile and continue with her day.

It was shameless flirting and flattering compliments Larissa would only smile at, or scoff and then walk away, she didn’t really acknowledge it further than that. She knew it was more than joking around, of course she knew. But in her mind a relationship like this, teacher and principal, could never happen.

“I’m going to that new fancy restaurant in town for lunch today, just to try it out. I was wondering if you’d join me?” Your voice and face were full of hope, and Larissa had to prepare herself to strip it all away with a sigh. “I don’t think that would be appropriate. But enjoy your lunch, miss.”

“It’s just lunch, principal. But as you wish, I’ll be there anyways if you decide to show up.” Just like she expected and much to her dismay, all the excitement drained from your face. You replied monotone and tired, walking away.

She never showed to reciprocate your feelings and you seemed content with just making her smile until a few weeks ago. Now you were getting tired of the constant heartache, it was time to pull back, give up. In truth Larissa wanted nothing more than to give into your antics. And your heart would ache, smile would break, after she turned and walked away or dismissed you.

Eventually you did tired of this. Larissa would always have your heart despite how she treated you, but you couldn’t continue chasing after somebody so unwilling to even notice you.

You forced yourself to move on, step one with that? Cut contact. You only saw eachother in meetings and occasionally in the hallways, though after so long you knew which paths to take to avoid her best. If something was requested of you, you’d send it with a student, as you did with papers, messages and requests.

Larissa took notice of this. Of course she did. Your flirting and compliments had become part of her every day, she didn’t show or say it but it made her beyond happy, so of course it hit her when it all suddenly stopped. Usually you’d take any excuse to be with her at all and even more in her office, but now you avoided her like the plague, it had been weeks since she actually interacted with you.

It’s surprising, what it takes for somebody to notice that maybe you do want somebody in your life, that you crave and appreciate their presence. For her it was this, but maybe it was too late. She would sure as hell try to win you back anyways.

She’d purposely run into you now, give you that beautiful smile you always longed to see, and started it all with a simple “goodmorning” or “have a nice day, darling.” She knew how you felt for her, she knew it would work, slowly, but it would work.

You couldn’t avoid her anymore, she made it impossible. After that she started asking for you directly, making it clear that sending a student wouldn’t work. “It’s so nice to see you, love” always how she greeted you when you showed up in her office.

She’d call you out and specially ask for your opinion during meetings, the attention you were getting from her was more than you could ever wished for, it was working.

Until one say she called you into her office just to start conversation, something she had taken up on doing for the past few weeks. Only she didn’t expect you to come in upset and ready for confrontation.

“What’s your angle here, Larissa. First you pay no attention to me, for fucks sake you’d barely acknowledge I exist, then you reject me every chance you get, and now you start showing interest? What do you want? Do you just miss the attention?” She was shocked. That’s not at all what she wanted you to think, truly she hadn’t noticed how much she truly hurt you, of course she didn’t. She was too busy worried about what everyone else would think, instead of worrying about how you felt.

“No, no. That’s not it at all. Please, let me explain.” With a sigh you sat down on one of the armchairs and waited for her to speak. The only reason it hurt so much was because no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t get over your stupid crush on her, so why not give her a chance to explain?

“I’ve been cold, mean, dismissive, I know that. And I couldn’t possibly excuse that but maybe if you just knew why, you could give me a chance- to maybe take you up on all those past offers, a chance to have us be more than employee and boss, and maybe even more than friends. If you’re still interested?” You’ve never seen Larissa so nervous, maybe that’s what helped you decide, it showed she really did care about making things right.

“Go ahead then.” You really tried to act uninterested but Larissa could see right through it, it made her happy, maybe there was still hope and she did have a chance.

“I’ve always appreciated your words. They made my day, as did your presence when you showed up around the office and always made one of your flirty remarks, trust me they didn’t go ignored in my head.” That made you smile, but you decided to contain it, you were still mad at her after all.

“Truth is I was afraid of what others would think because of the nature of what a relationship between us would be. I am truly sorry I never showed much interest, and even pushed you away every chance id get, it was immature of me to not just talk to you about this before, but that’s why I’m doing it now.”

You’ve never been one to care much about what people think, but it is true that Larissa has always been all about appearances, she cares deeply about this school and her job, it makes sense why she would be so hesitant. You can excuse that.

“I did- I do, want us maybe give things a try. But I only really noticed how much I wanted that when you tired and walked away. It’s why I’ve been trying to make up for all the things I should’ve been doing months ago. I apologize it took me so long to realize, and I apologize I didn’t even stop to think about how I could’ve hurt and confused you.”

That was it, the full confession was out. It was quiet for a moment, Larissa was anxiously bouncing her knee that was thankfully hidden behind her desk as she waited for a response. You seemed to be busy lost in your own mind, and Larissa wasn’t going to push, after all she had no right, not after everything she has and hasn’t done.

“I forgive you, I understand why you were hesitant, and I know how distance can make you come to realize things you never had before.” Larissa looked relieved and she was about to speak before you continued, “you’re also right on the fact you didn’t stop to think about the effects of your actions on me, but again, I forgive you.”

“Could I possibly make it up to you, darling? You deserve more than a simple apology.” There was nothing innocent about that statement, but you weren’t complaining. “Actually yes, come over, you’ll make it up to me tonight.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The second you two ran over boundaries you stated two rules: One, she wasn’t allowed to touch you. Two, she wasn’t allowed to make demands.

Larissa wasn’t sure exactly what she was expecting but it most certainly wasn’t this. It was torture to say the least.

“ohh please. please, touch me." That whining wasn’t getting her anywhere, it hadn’t for the past hour and it most certainly wouldn’t now. Maybe she expected you to give into her easily but this was a punishment, this was your way of getting revenge. “I am touching you.”

You held the vibrator against her clit until her moans got louder, puffy cunt clenching around nothing, begging to be stuffed as you pressed the toy against her slick entrance and moved it back to her tortured clit. You told her this was all she’d get, yet she whined and begged for more, you answer was still no.

“M-more please I need more. I’m sorry- please, I’m sorry” it was music to your ears, the sound of her begging for more, begging for you. Still, you weren’t feeling very generous today. “You take what you’re given, stop complaining because you’re coming like this or not at all. Quickly, chose.”

She cried into the bed, hips stuttering but pushing onto the vibrator. She made her choice. Her thighs were shaking and slick with her wetness running down them, and you turned the toy to its highest settings forcing a sob from Larissa as she finally reached her release.

She was reduced to pants and whines has her needy hips continued grinding against the toy. You allowed her that, little by little lowering the strength of the vibrations to help her ride her high until she again stuttered away from you, that was your queue to pull away.

You planted soft kisses up her spine until you reached her neck. Murmuring praises into her skin as your savored every bit of her. You felt her sigh, eyes shutting blissfully, basking in the warmth of your touch, in your gentle care.

You took note of how she remained ready for you, her knees against the bed, hips up. “Lay down, beautiful, let your body rest.” She complied with a whine, that was really it, you weren’t lying when you said that was all you’d give her. Though she was satisfied, she still aches to feel you inside of her. Perhaps another day.

“You’re mean, so mean.” She said, and her exhaustion was clear in her voice. You chuckled, laying down and pulling her on top of you. “I’m the mean one? This is payback for all your rejection, call it revenge.”

#larissa weems #larissa weems smut #principal larissa weems #principal weems #principal weems smut #gwendoline christie #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems nevermore #wednesday larissa weems #larissa weems wednesday

453 notes · View notes

dragonnwriter · 4 months

Text

Inviolable Bindings

Aemondxfem!OC and Aegonxfem!OC

All Chapters Here!

Chapter 35

Over the next few days, the uncertainty of Aegon’s fate cast a shadow over everything in the castle. Viserra busied herself with practicing in the training yard and flipping through new books in the library. In truth, she tried anything to keep her mind occupied from the grim possibilities of their future. One afternoon, even contemplated flying out to meet the returning party, wanting to assess the damage first hand. However, the fear of confronting the worst kept her feet planted there on the castle grounds.

Since the night of his return, Aemond had intentionally kept his feelings about their circumstances tucked away. Witnessing Viserra unravel at the news had made him acutely aware of the profound bond she shared with his brother. Despite the deep jealousy he felt when thinking of it, he reminded himself of the way she also sought refuge in his arms…unveiling the depth of their connection as well.

Neither of them had ventured to push the others’ boundaries in the days that followed. Viserra mostly kept to herself, keeping both a physical and mental distance from the others. Plenty of talk was happening around the castle, but the whispers would irritatingly cease when either of the dragonriders made their appearance in a room.

No matter how preoccupied Viserra kept herself during the day, sleep seemed to elude her each night. The restlessness persisted for a few days, casting shadows and doubts on her thoughts.

On the fifth sleepless night, she found herself in front of Aemond’s chambers. She stood in front of the door, taking a deep breath in before raising her hand to knock. When he answered, she was relieved to find he welcomed her in without question.

Aemond walked back to the sofa in front of the fire and picked up the book he had been reading. Part of her was surprised that he did not interrogate her on why she showed up to his rooms this late at night. Quietly, she came to sit down next to him, curling herself into a ball and letting her head rest on his lap.

Without any words, he gently ran his fingers through her hair, letting her choose whether or not she wanted to discuss what had been troubling her mind. The unspoken connection between them conveyed more than words ever could. And for the first time in those few days, the outside world seemed to fade for just a brief moment.

At some point, Viserra ended up surrendering to sleep. It was unclear how long it had been since she closed her eyes, but when she opened them, she noticed the fire had dwindled significantly. As she came back to her senses, she felt Aemond’s still hand resting on her hip, his slow, quiet breathing giving away that he too had fallen asleep.

It must have been past the hour of the owl based on the darkness outside of the window and the quiet in the castle. The only ones awake at this hour were the guards and the tiny animals that scurried about in the absence of the Keep’s usual business.

Listening closely, Viserra thought she could hear distant footsteps somewhere out in the halls. Her suspicions were confirmed as the hurried footsteps grew closer and closer. She closed her eyes again as she prepared herself for the imminent knocking that might soon echo against the chamber doors.

Viserra’s heart seemed to pound in the same rapid rhythm of the urgent footsteps. The anticipation charged the air around her and she felt it through each nerve in her skin. She knew, with certainty, that there could only be one reason for the sudden disturbance at this ungodly hour.

The dowager queen burst into Aemond’s chambers without waiting for permission to enter. Her entrance was so abrupt, that Viserra could almost feel the energy vibrating off of the walls. As Alicent’s eyes fell upon them on the sofa, she came to an abrupt halt. Her expression twisted with surprise as she grappled with the unexpected sight of them together at such a late hour.

Viserra moved slowly, bringing herself into a seated position. She remained unwavering in an attempt to convince Alicent, and possibly herself, that she was not bothered by the sudden intrusion. And even though it certainly felt as if some sort of confrontation was about to unfold, she swiftly redirected her attention solely to Aemond.

“They have returned,” Alicent spoke to her son, her voice shaking and filled with uncertainty.

Viserra closed her eyes again and tried to prepare for what would come next. When she felt Aemond shift beside her, she turned to see he was rising to his feet. He extended his hand without hesitation, an offer for her to join him.

Alicent took one last look at them with furrowed brows before turning to exit the room. The pair wasted no time following behind and not another word was said until they had reached the lower hallways below the holdfast. The bustle of Kingsguard and servants by the Grand Maester’s rooms indicated they would most likely find Aegon there.

Alicent was first to push through the crowd to get through the doors with Aemond and Viserra right on her heels. Once making it through, Ser Criston quickly closed the doors, shutting them all inside. Grand Maester Orwyle and several others were bent over what Viserra presumed was Aegon. As Alicent rushed to her son, Viserra chose to approach slowly and cautiously.

The sound of Alicent’s sobbing suddenly filled the room as she fell to the bedside of her eldest child. Ser Criston came forward to support her, the only one brave enough to confront the aggrieved woman. As Aegon came into view, Viserra suddenly understood why his mother’s reaction was so great and she too felt as if she couldn’t catch her breath.

Aegon laid there, wrapped almost completely head to toe in bloodied rags. His left arm was exposed and she assumed it had been the current focus of Maester Orwyle. The skin had been completely burned off in all of the exposed areas and it appeared as if his armor had fused within the extremity. Thankfully, Aegon was not conscious but in truth, Viserra was not sure that he was even alive. The left side of his face was black with burns and she could not shake the thought that he looked no better than a corpse.

Bringing herself to the end of the bed, she suddenly regained her hearing that she had not realized had been lost. Her attention moved back to Alicent who was now begging and demanding that the Grand Maester find a way to completely heal her son. It all felt like a fever dream and Viserra choked down a wave of nausea that came up in her throat.

Looking back to Aegon, she noticed the subtle rising and falling of his chest. Though hardly recognizable as himself, she studied the familiar hand that lay limp at his side. The urge to reach and pull him into her arms was almost overwhelming, but it was the fear that he might fall apart if she laid a finger on him that kept her from doing so. In the end, she came down on her knees at the head of the bed, reaching out to gently touch the unburnt side of his face.

“I am so sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking as she fought the lump in her throat. “This should not have happened.”

Aegon grimaced in response to her voice, though she was not sure if he had actually heard her or if it was just a coincidence.

“It is best not to disturb the King, my Lady.” Maester Orwyle spoke behind her. “He is filled with milk of the poppy to ease the pain and it would not be best for his healing to wake him at this moment.”

Viserra did not acknowledge the Grand Maester, sure that her presence would be welcomed if he did indeed awaken.

“Aegon,” she whispered again, her thumb brushing his one unburnt cheek.

Aegon grimaced once more and he suddenly yelled out, his voice filling the room and almost startling Viserra backwards. As she quickly got to her feet, the Grand Maester called for more milk of the poppy and three assistants came to him. Aegon's cries continued to echo in the room and it became increasingly clear that he was barely conscious.

Firm hands gripped onto Viserra's upper arms at the same time she began to back away. Looking behind her, she discovered it was Aemond. He did not meet her gaze, instead, he remained fixated on his brother, seemingly lost in his own thoughts too.

The world was crashing down around them and the heaviness in the room was suffocating. Viserra felt only numbness, knowing that once she distanced herself from the others, she would be able to let all of her emotions out. Casting a glance towards the dowager queen held securely in Ser Criston’s arms, she realized they both knew the severity of their situation.

There was a part of her that did not want to leave Aegon’s side, but another that told her to get as far away from this all as she could. Pulling herself from Aemond’s grasp, she turned and darted from the room. The need for more space to process it all overrode everything else in that moment. And she knew the one place she would always find it.

Viserra did not waste any time in her chambers. She swiftly threw on a pair of pants and tunic before taking her leave to find her dragon. The commotion surrounding Aegon’s return drew most people away from their duties, leaving the rest of the Keep relatively deserted. In her journey out of the castle walls, she was pleased to find no interruptions.

Just as she had hoped, Rhyn knew her intent was to seek him out. And for the first time, he landed within the training yard instead of waiting for her to come out of the castle gates. As she quickly climbed up into the saddle, she felt that the dragon shared her uneasiness and was more on edge than usual.

They jolted into the sky and Viserra took note of the moon’s beauty reflected in the sea below. The sun still did not make any attempt at rising on the horizon, the night dominating the skies. As they flew, the brisk air bit at her face and she momentarily regretted not having brought something warmer to wear.

Without a specific destination in mind, she sought solace above the clouds where only birds, dragons, and riders found their peace. She did not guide Rhyn down again until the chill seemed to seep into her bones. Once they broke down through the clouds on top of the coastline, she was unsure of how far they actually had gone. But she turned her dragon around nonetheless, and they began to make their way back north following the shore.

It had to have taken over an hour before King’s Landing back came into view, though Viserra still did not want to set foot back in the castle. The dragon touched down below the cliffside and she climbed from the saddle as soon as his feet settled in the sand.

Rhyn followed behind his rider until she plopped herself down a safe distance from the crashing waves. Comforted as she felt her dragon curl around her, Viserra looked up past the rocks to make sure they were not visible from the castle above. She pulled her knees into her chest while leaning back into the hard scales behind her, content with the quiet isolation there.

The last discussions she had shared with Aegon felt as if they had happened ages, not days ago. The contentment she experienced laying there by his side, wrapped up in their post intimate bliss, should have been the first warning that she was making decisions weighing heavily on her heart.

Helaena’s words had been a warning and she had forgotten them while riding the highs of winning battles and being bedded. Though it seemed so painfully obvious now why it was important to not let such feelings get in the way of rational thinking, it did not do anything to ease the heartache she now felt.

Viserra let the tears fall from her eyes and she let herself feel it all without holding back. She would not make such foolish decisions again. Rhyn let out a low growl and gently nudged her with his large head, letting her know that he was still there and could feel her despair. A few moments passed and the sadness began to wane. Viserra rested her head on her knees, letting her heavy and exhausted eyes shut for what seemed to be just a few minutes.

The calm of the waves crashing on the sand was suddenly replaced by the familiar sound of large beating wings. As she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the sky that began to show the beginnings of the sunrise, the blackness slowly morphing into orange and purple. Both her and her dragon looked down the coastline to see a massive beast coming down towards the sand.

It was Aemond.

Viserra tried to wipe the exhaustion from her face but made no attempt at rising to her feet. She watched as Vhagar finally touched down, the landing nowhere near as smooth as any of the younger dragons’. Aemond did not waste any time climbing down the ropes, his feet gracefully making contact with the soft sand. As he approached, Viserra realized that he had a look of irritation on his face. His sharp eye pierced right through her and she instantly felt her walls begin to form.

“My mother thought you might have taken off back to Essos,” he spoke, the accusation undeniable in his voice.

What an outrageous statement, she thought as she looked up to him with her eyebrows furrowed. “Clearly, I have made it so far.”

Aemond’s face twitched, unamused at her sarcasm, and he crouched down to her level. Placing an finger under her chin, he forcefully tilted her face upwards where they stubbornly held each other's gaze. Rhyn snorted and shifted his large body behind them, momentarily drawing Aemond’s attention. But when the dragon did not make another move, he shifted his focus back to her.

“You are not the only one affected by Aegon’s injuries,” he declared sternly.

Viserra pulled her chin from his grasp and she looked away from him with a scoff. He could not possibly understand the entirety of it all and it was everclear in that moment.

“Of course not,” she replied, her voice just as sharp. “I did not claim to be any more affected by it than anyone else.”

Aemond returned to his feet, his silence feeling hostile in that moment. He was foolish to think she would respond well to an unwarranted tongue lashing. For a man with a similar temperament, she thought he lacked the introspection on how to communicate with her effectively.

Viserra observed him as he stood, her eyebrows still furrowed. She was determined to stand her ground. Aemond let out a long exhale, briefly glancing away before bringing his eye back to hers. His face had softened, yet the frustration still lingered.

Hesitantly, Aemond offered his hand to her, almost as if he was attempting to mend their interaction. For a brief moment, Viserra had considered accepting the gesture, though her willfulness quickly reminded herself of the sting of his words. What remained of her lingering pride brought her to her feet without his help. A flicker of defiance flashing in her eyes as she let her actions speak louder than words.

Aemond let his outstretched hand slowly fall and eventually find its place behind his back. For a moment, their world seemed suspended between them and the sound of the ocean was the only noise that filled the air.

Breaking the silence, he spoke. “All I meant was that you cannot face this by yourself,” his voice now carried a mix of frustration and earnest concern. “If this single devastating blow tears us apart, we might as well place Rhaenyra on the throne ourselves.”

Viserra’s eyes held a firm resolve as she faced him. “If your intent is to try and comfort me, you might first consider approaching without such hostility.”

Aemond hummed in response to her words, silently considering their weight.

Viserra did not wait for him to respond, turning back to her dragon. At that moment, she was eager to put some distance between them. But before she could climb up the ropes, Aemond quickly seized her arm and pulled her back down towards him. She found herself wrapped into a forced embrace, where her attempts at wiggling free was met with him tightening his hold. The unexpected closeness made her feel like she was being forced to face her vulnerability and the anger swelled in her throat.

“These lands have not seen power like ours in over a hundred years,” he spoke, his voice low and hot by her ear. “Do not let this undermine what you are capable of. A true Targaryen would show those that have wronged them just how hot dragonfire can burn.”

Viserra stopped struggling against him, her breath hitching in her throat. The words were a powerful reminder of the legacy they shared and the raw power and potential held in their hands. Feeling her energy change as she processed his words, Aemond let his grip loosen on her. She slowly turned around in his arms, finding the slightest smirk playing on his lips.

Her widened eyes met his and she was suddenly aware of the heat that burned between them. It was difficult to keep her breathing slow and controlled but even harder to read what was going on in Aemond’s mind. As she darted her eyes over his face, she studied any minute movement that might betray his thoughts.

In an instant, she observed him lowering his eye to her mouth and she managed to draw in half a breath before their lips collided. The unexpected kiss sent electricity through her body and she felt both surprised and conflicted at the undercurrent of her deeper feelings. But in that moment, she returned the kiss with a fierceness that mirrored the relit fire that burned inside of her.

Time felt lost in that moment, but eventually they pulled apart. The tension between them seemed to dissipate and it no longer felt like they were fighting against each other. It was not Aemond who deserved her anger. She needed to refocus it on those who had brought such calamity to their doorstep.

Raising her eyes, she found Aemond smirking down to her. A look of determination and hunger mixed into his expression. She was not just another Targaryen to him, but the woman that would help him secure his family’s place on the throne. In that moment, a realization dawned on her…her place beside Aemond was just as significant as her place beside Aegon.

Author's Note:

Don't hate me for following crucial book events. More smutty goodness to follow in the next chapter. :)

13 notes · View notes

misumeaw-blog · 2 years

Text

'Til the clock strikes Midnight

Pairing : Albedo x GN! Reader Genre : Fluff | Established relationship Warning : pet names (dearest) Word count : 580 words Note : Happy birthday Albedo cough Smut coming sooooon cough

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

The moon hangs high in the starry sky; the sun has long slept across the horizon. The faint aroma of the evening dinner slowly became one with the surrounding air. It was a familiar sense of fried fish and vegetables; his signature dish, Woodland Dream. The man himself still has his head wrapped around his work, despite it being past bedtime.

“Knock knock~,” you knocked on the opened door, letting the beloved prince knows your presence. “Bedo' come to bed, it's late.” He let out a soft hmm, eyes still fixed on his untangle mess in front of him, though a smile appeared at the corner of his lips. Your poor Albedo can be stubborn to put the experiment aside, some times you have to show your assertiveness. Though tonight is not the night, in a few hours it will be a new day--an important day--his birthday; perhaps pampering him with affection may lure him to bed.

Your footsteps stop behind him, resting your head on his upper back. His cologne always makes you smile and want to snuggle anywhere possible. Get closer, and you’ll notice his ears turn pink as he feels your heartbeat.

He’s adorable, truly adorable.

You wrap your arms around his waist and whisper to him if it is ok, both you and he knows that it was actually about safety since he could be working on something dangerous. As for him to feel ok with it or not, that topic was a long way back. It took him a while to get used to it, but your chalk prince became addicted not long after.

“If I were to pursue the experiment, will you prolong to embrace me?” The blonde asked, clearly enjoying your company. You feel the vibration as he speaks, it makes your heart flutter. “I would, but I do prefer you to rest with me.” Kissing the back of his neck once and letting go of the embrace. He turns his head to find where you went, but you slide yourself between his arms before he could react.

You have been with Albedo for quite a long time, although he still flatters from every affection you give him. You snuggle to his neck where his golden mark lies, imprint more kisses.

“You sure you wanna fall asleep here instead of seeing my face the first thing in the morning on your birthday?”

He stops.

“My birthday is tomorrow? My, how time flies.” You hum in reply and crane your to kiss his jawline, receiving a chuckle from him. “It seems you are rather eager than I do. In that case, sure, let us head to bed.” You back up a little to see his face. The cold and distant person many said to be has a gentle smile and love-filled eyes on full display. Is this the monster many are afraid of? You never agree to those terms that conflict with what you see in front of you.

“I love you Albedo, from the bottom of my heart. I love you.” looking deep into his eyes as you say it, he knows you mean it. “On the day I discover the truth of this world, I wish you would be the first to witness the miracle. My dearest y/n, I love you too.” His gloved hand cup your face. He leans in closer and captures your lips with his.

“Let us meet in the dream.”

#albedo genshin x reader #albedo x reader #albedo x you #albedo x gn reader #genshin x you #albedo

96 notes · View notes

sepublic · 1 year

Text

I don’t know why I made this

*Luz enters the scene to see an injured Hunter*

Luz: Hunter! Where is he…

Belos: Well if it isn’t Luzura. Just a little too late, as usual.

Luz: Philip?! Impressive little spell you’ve got there, but your plan ends here.

Belos: Fool. You’re not ending our plan, you’re expanding it. Check Penstagram lately?

*Luz’s scroll vibrates and she opens it to see a frantic Raine on the other end*

Raine: Luz! The covenscouts have left Blight Industries.

Luz: What? How’d they know?

Raine: Belos has eyes everywhere, the isles are up in arms!

Luz: How did they… Alador destroyed the Abomatons? Then Belos’ plan is ruined…

Raine: The hell it is! The story just went live, and already the covens are talking of the dangers of wild magic!

Luz: But no covenscouts were harmed.

Belos: And yet coven authority was defied.

Luz: By a coven witch! Besides, the loss of a few million snails is tragic, but nothing to punish an entire way of life over!

Belos: That’s just the spark, child! The excuse we’ve been waiting for! The Boiling Isles has wanted this spell for years! The Titan, he knew covens were good for magic, millennia later and his will lingers on.

Luz: The Day of Unity…

Belos: He left us his great covens… Potions! Abominations! The Emperor’s Coven! Welcome institutions for those with no faith, without guiding communities of their own. Give yourself up to the whole; No need to think for yourself! You’re part of a coven, you fit in! Then the only thing left is wild magic, so we’ll do whatever it takes to keep it sealed! Even genocide. ESPECIALLY genocide.

Luz: Bullshit!

Belos: The Titan planted his seed, we don’t need him around to filter and foster his message any longer. We’re spreading it just fine ourselves! Every witch and demon… We’re all children of the Titan now!

Belos: We just need something to unite this population. This loss of faith since the death of the Titan!

Luz: And the Day of Unity? Forcing countless to abandon their homes is going to help the community?

Belos: Covens, utopia; Creating a sense of belonging, Luz! All those witches, binding themselves with a coven seal, trust me; A little persecution can work wonders!

Luz: So create a sense of Us VS Them? Is that it?

Belos: Relax, Luz. It’s a war on wild magic. We’re not out to kill civilians… Rebels. Criminals. Wild witches.

Luz: …

Belos: Of course, that would have to include you. Wouldn’t want any witnesses to my memories complicating the message!

Belos: Slippery little brat. I don’t have time for this!

*Belos powers up*

Luz: Oh, you gotta be kidding me!

Belos: Let’s. GO.

Luz: The hell are you thinking-

Belos: GRAUGH

*Belos catches Luz by surprise with a sudden force of power*

Belos: Played sports y’know.

Luz: At that cushy St. Epiderm!

Belos: Try Gravesfield High! Could’ve gone pro if I hadn’t joined the coven. I’m not like one of those magic cheaters. I could break the pope in two, with my BARE HANDS! Don’t fuck with this Emperor!

Luz: What the hell are you?!

Belos: Hahahaha! Why don’t you stick around and find out?

Luz: Typical dictator… Big promises, but all talk.

Belos: What?!

Luz: ‘The Titan’s will’? What a load of BULLSHIT! All you care about is gaining power and control over witches… That, and your approval ratings! You’ve got no coven bindings, just like all the wild witches! If the isles are plagued by wild magic, you’re just another practitioner!

Belos: All right. The truth then. You’re right about ONE thing. I do need magic, and witches in my coven. Wanna know why? I have a dream!

Luz:

Luz: wut

Belos: That one day, humanity and all those in God’s domain will be unfettered by the sins of magic! A world of the truly righteous, dammit! A world of virtue, not magic, ruled by faith, not anarchy! Where the demons cower before humanity, NOT the other way around! Where freedom and security are back where they belong, in the hands of the devout! Where every human is free to think and act for themselves! Damn all these brainwashing witches and backstabbing covenscouts! Damn this 24/7 Penstagram spew of memes and coven propaganda! Damn “The Titan’s Will”, damn the bards! Damn all of it! The Demon Realm is diseased, rotten to the core. There’s no saving it. We need to pull it out by the roots, wipe the slate clean. BURN IT DOWN! And from the ashes, a new humanity will be born! Enlightened, but untempted! The freaks will be purged, and the normal thrive, free to live as they see fit. THEY’LL MAKE HUMANITY GREAT AGAIN!

Luz: What the hell are you talking about?!

Belos: You still don’t get it. I’m using magic to become powerful! So I can END magic with this power. In my new world, humans will die, and KILL, for the God they believe! Not for magic. Not for witches! Not for what they’re told is ‘right’, every human will be free to pursue their own faith!

Belos: So, what do you think?

Luz: How the hell did you get elected…??!?

Belos: Well, I don’t write my own speeches. You should try fighting for the humans YOU have back home, not for a coven or for a Titan or any other demon!

Luz: Maybe I was wrong about you…

Belos: Am I finally getting through?! I’ll rid this world of evil, Luz.

Luz: I was wrong… You’re not greedy.

Luz: …You’re batshit insane!

Belos: WHA-

Belos: We’re making the mother of all omelettes here, Luz! Can’t fret over every palisman!

Luz: Not when you’re ‘saving humanity’, right? What do you know about being human? You weren’t ostracized. You’ve never been the outcast. You don’t know what it’s like to be put in a box, punished just for being who you are!

Belos: But you WERE punished! And you learned from your mistakes, growing to become a better person! With your own two hands, you took back your life among society!

Luz: And now, I’ll take yours…

Luz: Why won’t you die?!

Belos: Palismen souls, Luz. They heal me in response to physical trauma. You CAN’T hurt me, Luz!

Belos: What did I just say? Time to end this. DIE! DIE! DIE YOU WICKED WITCH!

*Luz is seemingly defeated*

Belos: All right, I think we’re about done here.

Hunter: Luz!

Luz: Hunter!

Hunter: Repeat his message, Flapjack.

Flapjack: “For my entire life, I’ve been working toward this. And on the last day, Evelyn has me doubting the whole thing. We’ll leave it up to fate then, shall we Flap? A duel to the death. May the best brother win…”

Luz: Caleb…

Flapjack: “I cut him down, and that’s that. Back to our regularly-scheduled magic. But if he beats me, if I die here… I want you to lend your power to a new witch. Whatever happens after that, is up to you Flapjack.”

Belos: Even dead, that guy is a pain in my ass. So… You think that little bird can save your friend? Well go ahead then! But make no mistake, Hunter; When I’m finished with her, you’re next!

Hunter: You didn’t make me to fear death.

Belos: Eh?

Hunter: However, my purpose as the Golden Guard is to support the Emperor unconditionally. To die here would violate that mission.

Belos: That’s a good nephew.

Hunter: However, Luz showed me friendship… I’ve learned from her. When I saw your memories, I wasn’t sure what to think. But that’s changed. I’ve established new relationships now, created my own dreams.

Belos: You little fuck- !

*Despite his efforts, Hunter succeeds in throwing Flapjack to Luz*

Belos: Damn Grimwalker!

*Belos hurts Hunter, as usual*

Luz: BELOSSSSS!!!!!

Luz: I said my staff was a tool of magic. Not used as a means to an end. Not used for violence. But now… Now I’m not so sure… And besides: This isn’t my staff.

Belos: Come on!

Luz: Okay… Let’s dance!

*They fight and Luz deals the decisive blow*

Belos: Well done, Luz…

Luz: Your dream dies with you.

Belos: Maybe not… You’ve guaranteed the demon realm will go on, for a while longer at least. Magic will continue as a practice, as a temptation. Humans will be drawn into evils they don’t understand. False idols, they don’t believe in. But at least I’ll leave a worthy successor… You, Luz. You’re a human hero who’s left your own impact here, changed these witches and demons. You don’t let their norms get in the way. And if it costs the lives of the monsters? So be it…

*Luz finishes Belos off and he lies dying*

Belos: Heh-heh… Deep inside, we’re… Kindred spirits… You… and I…

#the owl house #luz noceda #emperor belos #philip wittebane #the owl house hunter #incorrect quotes #source: metal gear rising #meme #memes

49 notes · View notes

shinydelirium · 2 years

Text

MLQC Season 2 Chapter 30: Day and Night (Kiro) Part 1 Translation [CN]

***WARNING*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

[Interrogation]

In a remote suburb, the lights of a NW secret laboratory shone bright.

Researchers in hazard suits surrounded the transparent medical cabin. A line of warnings flashed on the observation screen—

Subject evolution completion: 96%.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion pierced through the quiet night, destroying one side of the laboratory wall.

Within the thick smoke, flames soared into the sky as several figures appeared from the blasted hole in quick, orderly fashion, covering up everything that had happened.

In another building not far away, an office desk in the room vibrated for a moment.

Lucien picked up the rattling teacup, lowered his head, and took a sip.

His eyes remained on the experimental records in his hands, a dark expression on his face.

Du Wen: Are you still sticking with that answer, Miss MC?

A blinding light hit my face, burning into my eyes.

It was pitch black all around me and several people hid themselves in the shadows making it difficult for me to see their faces. Sitting in his wheelchair, Du Wen gave me a friendly smile.

MC: …I’m telling the truth.

I didn’t understand why Du Wen came to question me. My limbs were numb and aching from being tied to the chair for so long. I could only sit there while I adjusted myself into a more comfortable position.

MC: On that day at Monument Square, I strictly followed the organization’s instructions and witnessed CORE’s destruction.

MC: Because I managed to escape, you thought it was strange. Now I'm tied up here all night being interrogated like I’m some kind of prisoner.

MC: Isn’t that a bit of an overkill?

I raised my voiced as I stared back at Du Wen.

The night that Gavin destroyed CORE at Monument Square, everyone who was there was arrested by the Special Task Force as planned and I was sent home through secret arrangements.

In order to not draw suspicion from GR, I decided to come to headquarters and report the situation.

Although I knew I was going to be investigated, this prolonged torture still left me feeling exhausted.

Du Wen: No need to be defensive, Miss MC. We’re just asking a few questions. How can this be considered an ‘interrogation’?

Du Wen: After all, you’re a key witness to the destruction of CORE so we can only find out the real truth from you.

His voice was oddly harsh. I dug my fingernails into my palm, trying to fight against the building fatigue.

MC: You don’t have to be so pretentious. Besides…

MC: Even if I did see it with my own eyes, I have no way of proving that that thing was CORE. I’m only stating what I saw.

I purposely changed my tone as I frowned and pretended to think.

MC: And the fact that both BS and NW were at the scene, I assumed there must be something going on.

The room became unbearably quiet. I held my breath as I thought about what to say next.

A sudden text message broke the silence. The GR members hiding in the dark glanced down at their phones and then at Du Wen.

Du Wen looked at them and when he turned back around again, he gave me a meaningful smile.

Du Wen: For security reasons, I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this short. Thank you for your understanding, Miss MC.

After he finished talking, he motioned for the GR guard to untie me. Then, he maneuvered his wheelchair and left.

I lowered my eyes and calmly watched from my peripheral vision as everyone else quickly evacuated feeling a little confused.

The interrogation ended abruptly and it seemed that they had something more important to take care of. Could it be related to what I said just now?

GR Guard: You’re free to go.

I moved my sore wrist. Then something suddenly occurred to me and casually said.

MC: By the way, you better be careful of that man who was with me and Little Stammer last time. He’s very difficult to handle.

GR Guard: You mean Shaw?

GR Guard: Let him suffer a little longer and besides, he won’t be coming back to bother us any time soon.

I was surprised for a moment, then pretended to be calm as I got up and walked out of the room, feeling a bit uneasy.

The only light in the dark hallway was the sunlight coming in from the central spiral staircase, barely illuminating the emptiness here.

I walked towards the door and while looking around the deserted place, I called Shaw’s name.

Unexpectedly, no one answered which inexplicably calmed the anxiety in my heart. After much contemplation, I sent him another text.

All of a sudden, a faint beam of light caught my eye. I followed it and saw a room at the end of the hallway. The door was ajar.

I involuntarily stopped as my mind raced.

Now that GR is too busy taking care of the incident back at Monument Square, this might be my chance to look into that mechanical box…

With this thought in mind, I tiptoed over to the room and peeked through the crack in the door.

What caught my eyes were the bookshelves aligning the walls and the many documents that were arranged neatly.

After making sure no one was around, I took a deep breath and carefully pushed open the door.

The spacious room was empty except for a traditional desk opposite the bookshelf.

I walked in quickly and placed a metal ball bearing on the windowsill. Pressing the button, a silver halo was reflected in the center of the sphere.

At the same time, a standard “900” appeared on the outer edge of the halo and in the next second, it changed to 899.

I never thought that the teleporting ball bearing I had prepared in case of emergencies would come in handy.

But I only have fifteen minutes.

With my mind made up, I quickly turned around and started rummaging through the bookshelf. But after reading several copies, there was nothing but charitable foundations.

I couldn’t help take another look around the room again and found that all the furniture was a bit shorter in height than normal. Also, the desk had no chair…

MC: …Is this Du Wen’s office?

But why does he have an office in GR? As I pondered this, I heard the sound of an electric wheelchair rolling outside the room.

MC: !

The next second, the door was pushed open. I tried to steady my breathing and peered out through the gap between the curtains.

Another person appeared at the door at the same time as Du Wen. HIs silver hair gave off a cold glint against the sky light and his familiar face showed no emotion.

My eyes widened in surprise.

It’s Helios!

[Covert Cooperation]

I was shocked to see the two of them walk in together as a million questions filled my head.

Why is Kiro here and with Du Wen?

Seeing those indifferent eyes, I couldn’t help pursing my lips. Did he encounter something dangerous and that’s why he chose to appear as Helios?

I can’t help but think about the night he left. The unfriendly look on his face when NW showed up out of the blue as if he was expecting them.

Those unresolved clues came up again and again. I wanted to think rationally but my eyes kept being drawn back to Kiro.

As I was thinking, Du Wen has placed his wheelchair at the desk. He skillfully took out some tea from the drawer with the attitude of a host serving his guests.

Du Wen: Would you like some tea?

Helios leaned against the door in a lazy manner without lifting his eyes.

Helios: I’m here to tell you that the key experiment of the NW project is already underway.

Helios: You’re still a step behind.

He paused and a hint of mockery showed in his eyes.

Helios: Are you afraid of another repeat of “New Year’s Eve”?

Du Wen’s hand pouring the tea suddenly stopped. The smile at the corner of his lips was stiff as though he was trying his best to hold back some kind of anger.

Du Wen: But I don’t think it’ll do you or me any good if it happens again.

Helios: Leave everything to NW.

Helios casually flicked his wrist and a small USB flash drive landed in front of Du Wen. He bent his fingers and knocked on the door frame twice indicating he was leaving but his body suddenly froze.

His eyes cut straight through me like a knife and I couldn’t help but shrink back a little.

As soon as our eyes met, those uncaring eyes wavered for a moment followed by a flash of shock as he studied me.

…Oh no, I’ve been found out.

I quickly looked away but I could still feel his gaze on me. I raised my head again.

The light in those azure blue eyes darkened like he was glaring at me.

MC: ….?

Helios: Does the random appearance of that mechanical box recently have anything to do with you?

The abrupt change of topic shocked me. Even Du Wen was a little surprised.

Helios walked back into the room and his unhurried steps eventually stopped near the windowsill.

He leisurely leaned against the wall, moving the curtains a bit as his eyes swept over me casually.

The faint silver light of the teleportation ball casted over his eyes. He lifted his eyebrow in a relaxed manner and then took an involuntary step, directly blocking me from view.

My sense of sight suddenly became narrow and dim. The only space I had left was covered with his body in front of me.

A few strands of his silver hair peeked through the gaps in the curtains and swayed playfully above my head.

I clenched my hands and resisted the urge to reach out and tug his hair.

Du Wen didn’t say anything for a long time. The soft sound of the tea pouring into the cup stopped and he seemed to laugh.

Du Wen: The purpose of GR is to pass judgment on Evol. How can that thing be related to us?

Helios sneered sarcastically.

Helios: Why didn’t I get to witness how many Evolvers be judged by these “small syringes”?

Du Wen: I think you misunderstood something.

Du Wen: Strictly speaking, the role of the “small syringes” is to see whether it was possible for an ordinary person to become an Evolver so we tested them and we were surprised.

Du Wen: What’s more, the result was not our intention.

Helios: Just a bunch of puppets.

Helios: The one behind all this, how long does he think it will last?

His voice is cold, without any impulsiveness but absolute certainty.

Helios: He should be more worried about GR’s survival.

My heart skipped a beat. Is Helios talking about the mysterious GR president? Or is it something else?

Du Wen: Since everything is for the survival of ordinary people, what’s all this about “puppets”?

Du Wen didn’t seem to care about the contempt in Helios’ words and took a sip of tea.

Du Wen: It doesn’t matter how slow you walk, as long as you walk steadily.

Du Wen: I believe in the near future, Evolvers will forever cease to exist in this city.

Du Wen: Isn’t this the world we all want to see?

I shuddered from his words. He was like a poisonous snake, spitting out its venom.

It doesn’t sound like there is any correlation between the mechanical box and GR but I know for certain that they are planning something more dangerous.

I couldn’t help lowering my eyes. The numbers beside me kept ticking away, making my mind even more confused. At the same time, a broad hand suddenly appeared in front of me.

Sensing my doubts, Helios curled his finger twice.

MC: …?

Tentatively, I reached out my hand and just when my fingers were about to touch his palm, his hand immediately grabbed the back of mine.

He squeezed my fingers tightly with his thumb resting on the inside of my palm while he lightly stroked it.

My body became numb from his actions causing me to shrink back a little but he didn’t want to let go. He continued to squeeze my fingers and wreak havoc on my nerves as I tried to keep my mind focused.

His thumb moved back and forth. Thinking carefully, I immediately understood.

It seemed to be an “arrow” .

I turned my head to look in the direction of the arrow and my heart skipped a beat.

Only one minute left!

I quickly tapped Helios’ palm twice, thanking him, and then proceeded to make my escape.

A cold touch ran over my fingertips as my vision blurred. When I looked up again, I was already in an unfamiliar alley.

The GR headquarters behind me was hidden amongst the tall buildings, looking ordinary and insignificant.

I walked out of the alley without looking back and couldn’t help recalling what transpired a moment ago.

If what Du Wen said is true and the mechanical box has nothing to do with GR, then who could it be? Is it someone from BS who wants ordinary people to have Evol?

Or is there someone else hiding in the shadows, under the guise of these known forces, silently pushing their agenda?

I sighed heavily, always feeling that things were moving in unexpected directions.

What makes me more concerned is why Helios was there and why was he cooperating with Du Wen?

Without thinking about it, I remembered the angry look he gave me just now and couldn’t help but flinch.

MC: He’s probably going to yell at me for being reckless again…but I managed to get away so I can at least get a “free pass”, right?

Helios: Hardly.

A sudden voice came from behind me. At the same time, my collar tightened like I was being lifted up.

I turned my head and was met with a displeased face.

-End of Part 1-

#spoilers #mlqc #mlqc spoilers #kiro #kiro spoilers #mlqc kiro #mlqc season 2 #mlqc season 2 spoilers #kiro season 2 #mlqc translations #mlqc season 2 translations #kiro chapter translations

23 notes · View notes

themculibrary · 1 year

Text

Dom!Tony Masterlist

7 Bedrooms, 8.5 Baths, 1 Loki (ao3) - LilyFang loki/tony E, 12k

Summary: Hey Tony,

My pal Loki here will help you settle in. I gotta say, he knows his way around this house more than anyone else in the universe. Literally. I’ve checked! Don’t let his expertise go to waste.

- En Dwi

So this was the previous owner’s idea of a housewarming gift? Guess this is what you get for buying a house with one click, Tony groused to himself.

“Nice to meet you, Loki, I guess?” He held out his hand for Loki to shake before realizing that Loki was still bound with his arms behind his back. Tony winced. “Sorry.”

A Day In the Lab, Courtesy of Tony Stark (ao3) - EndlessStairway loki/tony E, 3k

Summary: Soooo there was some interest in Tony building a custom fucking-machine for Loki, but I have to be honest, I didn't even get to the fucking-machine yet. I might have to do a chapter 2.

This happens between Tony's Thrall and Loki's Fate.

All Aboard the USS Kink (ao3) - LilyFang loki/tony E, 2k

Summary: “Thank you for volunteering! I know a lot of you folks know each other, but could you introduce yourself to the audience?” Tony smiled broadly, gesturing towards the eager crowd.

The volunteer nodded and Tony saw the beginnings of a smug smile in return. “My name is Loki, I use he/him pronouns, and magic tricks are for gullible children and half-witted fools.”

Tony’s lip twitched as he bit back a scowl. Listen, buddy, I don’t show up at your job and shit on your work, he grumbled internally. The irritation masked an undercurrent of fear. The simple truth was that not everyone could be hypnotized - only those who, on some level, really wanted it.

a master's treat. a pet's game (ao3) - meowrails tony/stephen E, 7k

Summary: Stephen grows ears and a tail, and gives himself a magically induced heat.

Tony sees a long night ahead of them.

Baby, You Can Drive My Car (ao3) - BlossomsintheMist steve/tony E, 7k

Summary: “Nothing but the best for my best guy,” and this time, Steve’s groan was soft and shuddering and all about Tony calling him that old-fashioned phrase, it never failed to make him feel warm and, and soft, and cared for, the way Tony always managed to do so damn well, “this is the Lamborghini of fucking machines, all right?

Black (ao3) - Jazz_s_shadow steve/tony E, 1k

Summary: When Steve wanted to just relax and let go, he went to Tony with the black.

Broken Down (ao3) - haemodye loki/tony E, 5k

Summary: “Take me to bed and I’ll fuck you so hard your immortality will leak out your ears,” Tony blurts out, which doesn’t make much sense but, well. That’s about on par for how he feels right now.

Still, going by the way Loki’s eyes widen at the words, he clearly doesn’t mind at all.

Calling the Shots (ao3) - AMidnightDreary, Rabentochter loki/tony E, 2k

Summary: Once again, Anthony uses his foot to nudge Loki’s knees apart. Once again, Loki makes a frustrated noise that is only almost a whine and swears that he is going to be pay Anthony back for this.

Go Time! (ao3) - Agent C (arh581958) steve/tony E, 3k

Summary: Tony is the average teenage omega Avenger. He's smart. He's handsome. He's talented. He also happens to be dating the hottest alpha in the whole school. He just received his latest mission: Steve was in rut!

(Or: How to Take Care of an Alpha in Rut - 'cause too many ABO stories have helpless omegas and Tony isn't one of them.)

However Sweetly It May Storm (ao3) - KimchiKitty7 bucky/steve/tony E, 30k

Summary: After Civil War, Tony Stark is trying to pull his life together and deal with the betrayal and abandonment of his team. One night he goes upstairs to find Steve Rogers in his penthouse, and is ready to try his hand at throwing him out the window. But things aren’t always what they seem. Can they get it right this time?

I won’t leave you falling (ao3) - BlossomsintheMist steve/tony E, 14k

Summary: Tony doms for Steve, which involves some specially enhanced red rope, cock rings, two vibrators, and a lot of orgasm control. It works out. Bottom Steve, trembling and desperate to come, loving dom Tony, plenty of aftercare.

Last Stop Before Malibu (ao3) - justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday) steve/tony E, 31k

Summary: Steve stands under the hot sun, hoping that the next trucker to roll in will bring him enough money to eat tonight, enough to save a little, to get out of this place and go somewhere new.

What he doesn't expect, is to meet a man who changes everything.

When Tony leaves, Steve follows and finds a place in his home, his bed, and maybe, his heart.

lead me to a place i'm free (ao3) - firebrands steve/tony E, 1k

Summary: steve gets back from a mission and has needs. tony is happy to provide.

The Watcher Watched (ao3) - EndlessStairway loki/tony M, 35k

Summary: Loki was always masochist, but there is no such concept as BDSM in Asgard and everything percieve “weak” are scorned, so he never got any good experiences. Even the nicest people he found (in disguises mostly) treated him like useless shit. Now Loki repressing his needs as best as he can, pretending to be Odin and checking Midgard from time to time - he have plans for Avengers fighting Thanos. And “Civil War” clusterfuck was entertaining.

One day he sees Tony in BDSM session with some person (since he and Pepper broke up, Tony decided that “just for sex” friends are better than one night stands or something). And at first Loki just looks because Tony is inventive in bedroom as much as in the shop, but after he stunned by tender aftercare and the way Tony is stil polite and friendly to his sub after. Now Loki just HAVE to know more and get some of that for himself.

To See Its Truth (ao3) - BlossomsintheMist steve/tony E, 5k

Summary: “There’ll be time for me after this,” Tony told him. The heavy ache, the drag and fullness and wet, was making his cock hard again, so that he could feel it bobbing under his shirt. The fabric felt sweaty, sticking to his back and chest and nipples. “I’ll probably only come once, after all. Just let me make you feel good, champ.”

Wrecking Balls (ao3) - Bourneblack bucky/tony E, 87k

Summary: Bucky Barnes is trying to make enough money as an escort to take care of his sister after she loses an arm in the war, and Tony just wants to feel a semblance of control after aliens try to attack New York. They happen to find each other and strike up a mutually beneficial arrangement (sugar, sugar), but is their chance meeting really just coincidence?

You Broke it, You Bought it (ao3) - justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday) steve/tony E, 2k

Summary: Steve’s been fighting and failing against Hydra all week and now he’s gone and broken the punching bag Tony had made especially for him. He’s fucked up, and now he’s going to get his punishment.

You’re My Medicine (ao3) - BlossomsintheMist steve/tony E, 11k

Summary: It was just that Steve liked harder kinks, and it seemed like the kind of thing that would appeal to the intense sensation play side of him, always pushing himself and looking for something to send him flying higher. It wasn’t the same as a flogger stinging over his back, but it was more intimate, more invasive, Tony figured—the same intensity, but in a totally different way, and maybe … gentler, softer. Something it would be easier for Tony to give him the way he wanted it, even the way he liked it.

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #dom!tony #dom!tony masterlist #masterlists #smut #sex tw

1 note · View note

dream-this-nightmare-over · 1 year

Text

Kit Harington imagine

If you like this, or if you dont, check out my other stories on wattpad (you might find something you like)!!!

Rest of my imagines/one shots you can find in my wattpad book Imagines that is being filled continuously by new stories.

Enjoy!

When we know what to do in new situations, it's time to admit to ourselves how old we have become.

It was all new to her, and old at the same time, worn out as if she had witnessed a moment more than once. Which was not far from the truth with a few modifications. The music roared, people moving in pools of color that formed on the floor under splashes of neon lights from the ceiling. Everything was chaotic, mixed, in motion. Even the drink in the glass echoed with tremors along her fist, tightly wrapped around the crystal. She could see lips talking, trying to get her attention, but she could only make out their movements, not the tone. Her eardrums vibrated from the rhythm of the sound that permeated every creature that found itself in the disco tonight.

She drank the liquid to the last drop, then left glass on empty table, moving through the pile of bodies. A few weeks ago on the amount she had ingested, she would already be intoxicated and would not know where she was going. But, she learned, it's easy to learn the bad. Like an ugly gift wrapped in a ribbon with a bow on top. It is hard to resist it, and it is not polite to show displeasure to the one who gives the gift. But is there such a thing as ugly gift?

The girl with the painful expression on her face hung over her shoulder to rest as she walked past her. She starts to wince, but instead of a sudden movement, takes a hard breath. There was no air, the heat began to choke her, but she still wrapped her arm around the girl's arm, other around the girl's hip. The last thing she would want is for the poor thing to fall at her feet. Everyone would talk about it for days. Although outwardly friendly smiling, stiffness caused by the proximity of the stranger did not leave her.

"I got you." She whispered, knowing the girl wouldn't hear her.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you. Just to take off these shoes. They are killing me. "

They say that drunk people feel more strongly about other people's mood swings, and that this is one of the reasons that leads to an outburst of sincerity with which they scatter around while in that state. Her usual sinking into that delirium was shrouded in oblivion that made her never know if the rumor had anything to do with the truth. The girl was showing symptoms of a rumor, which made her even more uncomfortable. She tries to relax but the heat makes it impossible for her well-drunk body and mind. There were times when she would fight but tonight she has no strength and neither sees the need to look for energy she will not find.

For a moment the girl disappeared from view in the dark, and she already thought she could breathe, but she felt someone's mane on the leaf, dragging itself along the denim of her trousers. "There it is. I'm free. "

An unknown girl stood up, waving her high-heeled shoes hanging from her fingers.

"Can you go on your own?" She asked. She probably hadn't even heard her, and even if she had, alcohol had ruined her entire memory. She received a kiss on the cheek with the greetings "see you! enjoy!" and leaning to the side under the weight of the girl when she pulled her in hug. She disappeared into the electrified crowd without saying her name. She wipes both the lipstick and the kiss from her skin, doubting whether she should have said goodbye or not.

She was overwhelmed by a sudden rush of panic. She pushed her body through shoulders, looking for a way out, but from the torsos rising above her tiny figure, she didn't get a chance to see anything. The air is too thick, unknown faces surrounded her, she squeezed. She is surrounded, there is no way out, she can't find him. She can't call anyone, call on her cell phone because it's too loud and no one would hear her calls for help. She felt a rush of blood in her face, hair sticking to neck. Y/N clenched her fists, closed her eyes, and began to count.

1 ...... inhale.

2... ..exhale.

3... ..repeat.

4 ...... inhale

5 ..................The swirl is interrupted by a crack of glass that shattered somewhere, causing a deep giggle to break.

Through the shadows of helplessness that paralyzed her, a familiar face emerged, and she grabbed onto the last straw of salvation. She's saved! She better hurry while he's still there!

She sneaks under someone's arm, not having time to get around boulder, always much bigger than her. The lights made it even harder to move, but she felt she was close. At the other end of the room, two people blocked her way, their backs turned. She tries to get around them several times, climbing on her toes to catch the source of the murmur from which the fracture originated."I'm sorry."

She finally pushed her way to the desired destination, leaving emotionless faces behind. Had she acted a little more violently she would probably have caused an argument and a fight. And she didn't want that. Intoxicated minds are unpredictable. They are like a match that will ignite at any moment at any stimulus.Reach for the counter in the crack created by moving the man to the side. She took it before the character decided to return, not wasting a moment to catch her breath, she began to speak, which in the noise was more reminiscent of howling.

"Hey you! There you are! "She approached him to draw his attention to herself, but he had already turned his head, he had already noticed her. For a few moments he just stares at her in wonder.

"Oh, look who showed up." He growled furiously, visibly drunk. His eyes flashed in the dim light, his pupils absent and empty. She wasn't sure he recognized her at all.

"I'm going home. Do you want me to take you? "She didn't prepare for the possibility that he was in such a deprived state, but she knew what she had to do. She won't leave him. Although they know each other, they weren't exactly friends. More a kind of wanderers who often find themselves in the same place at the same time.

"You look really good tonight." Now her attention is drawn to the drunken flirtation of the character in front of her who leaned over and whispered the words in her ear. He was still watching her as he took a sip from glass, not counting any more, but the waiter was counting, who was already pouring him the next one, grinning at the amount the man would have to pay. The only luck in the accident was in the fact that this was an organized party to which they were both invited so that each of their drinks was or will be paid for from the pocket of the organizers.

Y/N covered the rim of the glass with palm. "He's had enough." She didn't have the strength to give in, much less to argue. With the sharpness that remained, the waiter nodded in understanding. Tonight everyone lacked energy. The real ones, not artificially acquired by alcohol. But sometimes that is the only other thing left for those who do not get drunk out of leisure but out of sheer necessity.

"Let's go home Kit. Come on. That's enough." She won't give up. She has to get him out of here. She can't go on the road alone.

After much persuasion, they managed to find a way out and stagger out onto the recently defrosted asphalt, which glistened under the parking lights. It looked like a floor, black, thick, scattered with bits of shiny pebbles, and the smallest of them fell into cracks in the concrete from which no one would be able to pull them out because they would melt with the first rays of dawn.

The coldness of the steering wheel on which she leaned her head was a welcome refreshment. It cooled her forehead veins and penetrated its tongue through the thin skin to her skull. It was always her favorite part of going out late at night. The coldness of the seats, the foggy, cold windows, the coldness of the car we all experienced when we left them in the outdoor parking lot in the middle of the night. Relief from the boiling blood still fueled by the deafening atmosphere they had left. It was as if her blood flow eased, diluted, and everything else stopped. If only she could stay and live in a world where everything is still. Not for long. Just for a few days, weeks. Until the thoughts are cleared and the body and soul and brain agree on how to proceed.

"You shouldn't drive."

She almost forgot about her companion. His voice on the passenger seat was the only warmth in the car. She watched him as he began rummaging through the cabinets in search of candy. They are both like children. She with her head on the steering wheel, and he crooked in the seat, relentlessly looking for a box he won't find, but which he won't stop looking for until his eyes fall on something that will distract him from the candy to some other little thing.

She threw them away or ate them. Thomas didn't dare ride with her, but the candies of the candied fruit were quite safe for him. Open the window and spit. One taste less.

She watched him as pencils fell out of one of the drawers. He watched them in amazement with no intention of stopping them. They went too far to catch them.

What are you running away from? She wondered as she handed them to him, picking them up from the gearbox they'd rolled onto. Maybe he's not running from anything. Maybe he just drinks because he has money. Maybe she just didn't want to be the only sad person tonight.

"I'm less drunk than you, anyway."

Someone spoke, saying the words to her lips, when she remembered that he had said something to her but that she had never answered him.

He studied those damn pens as a scientist holding a new discovery. With childish curiosity and steely attention, he didn't even catch her words."You have to buckle up." She reached for his belt and began pulling it over the her absent acquaintance. "Even if they catch us, they can't charge us two fines. Although even one would be enough for a normal person. "

His gaze did not leave her movements, pencils long forgotten. He tries to help her with his fingers by wrapping them around the belt slot, but pulls them back when he sees that she has already fastened it.

Her chest heaved. She was upset, and he didn't know what made her angry.

"We're not normal, there's nothing that's too much for us." Against tears can only go those other tears. Tears of laughter. Although the smile has been hard to find lately. Light tears ran down her cheeks.

"Let's go." And off they went.

The machine didn't seem to be controlled by her hands. The engine rumbled gently under the chassis, the road unwinding like a ribbon under tires. They slid through the traffic lights whose shadows played on their faces. They did not exchange a word. The car lights were distant spots, blurred by insomnia and fatigue. Everything was moving slowly within the windshield, somewhere far away from the two of them, as if it was not on the same road with them. No one stopped them, two drunks in the car, driving with impunity. Probably those who should have punished them are also locals somewhere, trying to forget that no one loves them. Why do we all care so much about being loved? And when we are, we look for flaws in the love that is given to us, pretending that it means nothing to us.

"He left, and he ate all my candies." She said suddenly, not addressing anyone in particular. Swallowing would be a better expression, she thought. Why did you have to go and make the world sadder than it already was?

He knew from the beginning that it would end that way. Dickhead was the moon, Y/N a star, and those two never meet in the same sky, he would tell her. His words were useless. If he had said it, she wouldn't have listened. No one ever has.

"I'll buy you new ones as soon as I'm sober." He said, looking at her. She stared ahead, squeezing the steering wheel. It was dark but in the glow of the piece plate above the steering wheel he saw the bones of her wrists and the whitened skin stretched over them. The words came out of her insides. She felt a little better. Another taste less. She didn't get carried away by the thought that she wouldn't remember him until morning. Poison is hard to get rid of because it enters every pore, she knew. Knowledge sometimes kills even the last hope.

"Make sure they're extra sugary, I prefer them now."

The road emptied except for a few cars that were moving, it seemed to him, even slower than them. He wanted to get somewhere, to go somewhere, without a clear goal. Where she was leading him was a riddle he didn't want to figure out. The seat sank under his figure, the rattling of the freshener against the rearview mirror the hum in his ears until he could hear only the soft sound of the rope tightening from one side to the other. The nights are beautiful, he concluded. The only time of day when the whole world leaves you alone and you leave it. When it is dark and when all obstacles are less visible, so it seems as if everything is possible. If he were the ruler of the world, the sun would not rise, nor the nor the problems it brings with itself. He amused himself with the thought of being alone, of disconnecting himself from the crowd that surrounded him as soon as he felt the tentacles with which they were trying to devour him.

"One day they like my hair, the next day they are disgusted. One day they say I'm right, others are already writing that I must not have brain when I can say such nonsense. After a while, it becomes tiring. " The words begin to fall out on their own before they can be stopped.

His curls were caught in a halo of light, though disheveled and uncombed, beautiful.

"Nothing's missing your hair," she tried to reassure him, looking back at the road after a brief glance. Not noticing, he looked through the window, biting his lower lip, stretched between his teeth. He shook his head as if something bothered him. "It's not a matter of hair. Nothing ever works. It seems to me that the more I try, the lower my success rate. "

"Then cut them." She added absently, not at all startled. Now comes that outpouring of sincerity associated with feelings. Every doubt as to the truth of the rumor had dried up, gone before the anticipation of the words to be uttered. Vomiting, if there's any luck. She decided that even if nothing embarrassing happened, she would never reveal to him what he was like tonight. His secret with her to the grave. How many secrets the underworld knows. Allow yourself to pull the corners of your lips up. One day one might decide to exchange with the living, above-ground world. She was sure who would do better.

"It will grow again," he replied quickly, too quickly, directing all his attention to the driver.

"You think too much." It was the only answer she could think of.It was getting harder to keep my eyes open and the yawn muffled. She yawns, filling her lungs with oxygen that never reaches them fast enough.

"I think so." His fingers played with the torn thread of his jacket. "Have you seen them?" Those children? "It takes her a moment to remember what he's talking about, which he generously, not very patiently, gives her. Who was she supposed to see? The only person she saw, though only when she closed her eyes, which she had been doing more often lately than keeping them open, was a boy with brown eyes and blond hair. And only because he never showed himself to her in plain real sight. not anymore. She didn't even want to look at anyone else. And when someone stepped in front of her gaze, she would look for him and his glow and his eyes and his smile on an unknown occasion incomparable to him. It was a sobriety bordering on eccentricity."Children from the Humanitarian?" She finally remembered his humanitarian work, which she had heard about on the radio some time ago.

"Those children are hungry, and I can't help them. I look at them and just smile at them and promise to do something and I don't believe in that possibility either. Man. it's so fucked." He went back to looking out the window. The curls danced against his face, untamed and free, just as she had always imagined. Like something too beautiful to ever be hers. Like a drink too strong for her tired body, like the last minute of a night fading with daylight."It's not your fault for the injustice."

"No, no one is to blame. But there is still more and more of it every day. "He answered her more desperately than angrily. At one point, the sadness turns to anger, and when we realize that it is also useless, despair comes and liquid that blurs his real face, so we don't recognize him for a few hours. The rest of the ride passed in the silence and rattling of the air freshener when they turned into a bend or changed lanes.

The house was dark and huge. And glass. Lots of glass, on all sides.She escorted him to the living room, after he had not gotten out of the car for a few minutes even though they had already arrived in front of the entrance. She didn't rush him. It was dark, quiet, interrupted by breathing that returned to both a somewhat normal routine.

They were sitting. She leaned her head against the window. It was no longer cold on the inside."You're home."

They were sitting. He didn't answer her. The freshener stopped swaying as if signaling the end of the night. He didn't want it to end like that, so miserable, so mundane.

She had to open the door for him in person and help him up the stairs. "You're leaving the house unlocked?"

"I'd sleep more nights outside than in my bed if I didn't leave."

He unbuttoned the collar of his shirt, still holding her hand. Tonight she became a support for the drunk and tired, without any support for herself. "Yeah, you seem to have more luck than wit, in some things."

She stood in the middle of the room not knowing what to do with herself now that he let her go and staggered down the hall. She didn't know where to place her eyes. Everything was so clean and tidy and new. She didn't know what she expected from the inside. She didn't expect anything. She never imagined herself in a space like this. He's fine here, he thought. But he probably doesn't even know what he has, the sick part of her mind tunes in very quickly. He had never been sober enough to realize, she replied to herself. Sometimes it's easier to have imaginary conversations. No awkward questions, ambiguous phrases. We can follow word-for-word scenarios, which in the real world no one has ever learned.

Should I leave without saying goodbye or not? Maybe she should wait to make sure Kit's okay.

She didn't move from where he had left her.

He stopped in the hallway. Something deep in his head bothered him. "You listened." Turning to the girl, he said. "And you weren't laughing." He continued as he leaned against the doorframe. "I hope to remember that tomorrow."

She didn't laugh. She remained frozen in her emotionless expression. "I'll make sure to remind you."

Thoughtfully, with a wrinkle between his eyebrows that hadn't been there before, he stared at the floor when he remembered. "If only you weren't right."

"About what?"

He remembered her every word when she told them to him that winter twilight. It was difficult for him to reconstruct them now because he saw them in his memory only partially in the haze of numbness.

"That we don't remember things we did while we're drunk, but that forgetting doesn't apply to those.. em... to those... .. because of which we drink. The ones we did before we got drunk. Which means that even that one- "he began to approach her awkwardly as he pointed with his index finger as the number one" -one, the only thing, drunkenness, is meaningless. "

He stood opposite her, so close she could feel the breath in her hair. When she finds the words she's sure are ones she's been looking for, she raises her head so that their gazes are on the same level."We can't run away from ourselves Kit. That is impossible. With or without alcohol. "

She didn't even finish, his lips were already on hers. Gently, gently, as only the desperate know. Slowly, slowly, as only those who are no longer in a hurry do. He parted her lips with his own. They were warm and suddenly full of blood. Where there is blood, there is life. He wanted to remember, to draw a mental map of her lips and all the emotions that filled him. When he leaves, that he can still feel it all, all of her on his lips. When he sobers up that he still remembers her. Her lips are full of life, which must come to an end someday. They run out of air and separate, her cheeks still embraced by his smooth palms.

"If you were little bit older, I would make passionate, crazy love to you." he said, caressing her cheeks. He spoke to her briskly, at the same time softly and bluntly. He spoke the way he would speak sober if he didn't care who was listening, who was watching. If he was relaxed and naive, childishly distracted, with no worries on his mind.

She didn't know where to put her hands, so she put them in her coat pockets. She didn't want to leave a trace that might remind him of tonight's events. The nights are dark, so are the deeds. So that they can merge and disappear in the shadows of darkness.

"I'm leaving now. Take care."

She left him behind, in the creaking of the door and the sounds that signaled it has closed. She didn't want to leave him. She didn't even want to stay. She wasn't sure what she wanted. If only he wasn't right. Everything was really messed up.

He's fine, safe, and the steering wheel and windows are cold again like the rest of the car's interior. This time she rested her head on the seat. Tongues of cold crept through her exposed scalp, cooling the boiling blood again. Everything repeats itself. We are constantly looking for reruns of pieces that comfort us. But we forget that even those for whom we don't want to buy a ticket must also show up for the theater to survive.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the pencils in the passenger seat were neatly stacked next to each other. She didn't touch them, let them rest where they were.

We are just children, she finally concludes, who want to be happy again.

#imagines #kit harington #kit harington imagine #kit harington imagines #fanfiction #kit harington one shot #one shot #game of thrones #imagine #celeb imagines #celeb one shot #celeb oneshots #fanfic #got #jon snow #wattpad #writing

0 notes

thealienspacepod · 2 years

Text

On the day of June 26th 2020, after more than a decade of intense depression & suffering, I was now ready to end it. A couple minutes after a video was made, I was now sitting on the kitchen floor with a knife trying to make up my mind, with a silent & subtle inner voice telling me “there’s gotta be another way” in the back.

The primary cause for my depression was the unbearably heavy sense of separation and loneliness carried over the years, and blaming myself and the world with a victim mentality, drowning in the low vibrational state of an intense existential crisis and deep sorrow. I was secretly hoping in the middle of my hopelessness that there was a way to be saved.

All my life I have searched for something that could only be recognized within, but have been looking at the wrong place all along and had the belief that nothing could help me. I had no idea what I was doing, where I was going, and who I was supposed to be. Most of my life, nothing made much sense to me.

The search for something I was not was even encouraged by some others assumed to be found, but somehow seemed to be left with a sense of lack, the need for validation and comparison, resulting in conflict with others.

I have spent most of my life doing inquiry about the person I was expected to be, analyzing every detail of my outward experience in relation to how I felt inside, and on the nature of the universe, as it would appear to me. I would not find the right answers because I would not ask the right questions, assuming that the body and mind I had was my ultimate being.

I decided not to do it, because a part of me felt that I wasnt done exploring myself, and that I just had to dive deeper. I knew I wasnt thinking straight, and in truth, didnt want to physically die. What I wanted was to truly live life, free from suffering and conditioning. I knew that there was a way, but that I had to keep seeking.

Fortunately for me covid had just started, and I have been at home for months in complete isolation focusing in inquiry and getting to explore deeper. It felt like as if I was a ghost floating around, rediscovering myself as the world stopped spinning. This opportunity was a blessing in disguise.

In a deep state of nihilism and nothing to lose, I randomly found some videos on lucid dreaming and astral projection which has completly blew my mind. Laying in bed with closed eyes, what I have experienced was very surprising. Something in me in which has always been unknowingly overlooked was being brought to light, although this was only scratching the surface. A glimpse of something magical within has brought me to turn inward.

Soon enough, I started bringing mindfulness meditation (self reflection / self discovery) as part of my daily routine in order to observe the body and mental state, as well as awareness meditation (insight) to relax the focus of attention and to remove any identification in order to recognize the very essence of being.

Meditation has been the most powerful and life changing tool to have clarity and inner peace. The shift in perspective from who I thought I was (the doer / ego self) to “that which is aware” of who I thought I was (the witness, true self) is truly an eye opening process. Bringing the body, the mind, along with the world in the all-inclusiveness of experience from awareness is the master key to be liberated from the illusion of separation.

The recognition of awareness as our true nature leads us to realize that everything is made out of it as one. When we function in life with this undeniable truth which transcends the concepts beyond belief and doubt and good or bad, suddenly everything makes sense. We finally understand that happiness, unity, peace, love and light all share the same source and can only be veiled, as it is infinite & eternal, non-changing and everlasting.

We recognize that from a higher perspective, there are no such things as others, for consciousness is in fact experiencing itself through individual forms, and that what seems to be separate and external is always within. Therefore, the meaning of life is for awareness to know itself. In other words, to be self-aware.

Awareness being aware of itself through the individual form is the first stage. The second stage is to express, to celebrate and to share our being with the many as one, in service of a higher self, in order to achieve a life balance.

It’s very simple. Our nature is consciousness and the purpose of it is to be self conscious. Therefore, we must act consciously, for doing things unconsciously is going against our very essence of being, therefore causing resistance.

#me #meditation #philosophy #spirituality #spiritual #wisdom #nonduality

0 notes

becca-e-barnes · 3 years

Text

Take Care of Everything

This is my first ever fic for a writing challenge omg I’m so excited! Huge congratulations to @balenciagabucky for hitting 3K followers!! That’s such a huge milestone and thank you for organising such a fun challenge! So excited to read the rest of the submissions 💗 @dulceslibrary

Pairing: Personal Assistant! Bucky Barnes x Lawyer! Reader

Word Count: 3.5k maybe?

Summary: There’s only one thing in your life that your PA doesn’t take care of

Warnings: Smut, praise kink, pet names, protected sex (go me for writing something safe sex for a change), court mention, lil fluff, mile high club

Minors, do not interact.

“Un-fucking-believable.” You couldn’t stop the roaring boil of the blood in your veins, storming out of the court room with your long black gown billowing behind you. Being one of the top barristers in the country brought it’s fair share of high profile cases but this one had got on every last nerve in your body and you were out of patience.

The case itself wasn’t the problem. The issues were straightforward enough and applying law to fact, at the most basic level, your client had done nothing wrong. It should have been essentially cut and dry. The problem was the opposing council and the lack of intervention from the judge.

The prosecution had torn your witness to shreds. You had tried to warn the poor woman beforehand, as you did with every client, but on the stand, she had just crumbled under such an intense and downright ignorant line of questioning.

It shouldn’t have even been allowed in the first place. The judge should have stepped in and clipped the opposing council’s wings but the damage was already done and now you would have to pick the pieces up when court resumed on Monday.

“How did it go?” Your personal assistant must have been leaning outside the courtroom door for who knows how long, his suit somehow as neat and pristine as always, despite the fact it was the end of the day.

“Fucking dreadful, Terry was an asshole to Andrea and she lost it. Should’ve known he’d pull shit like that, he’s always a cunt on Friday evenings.” You practically spat the words out, heels clicking on the floor as you made your way down the marble hall to collect your things and begin to put an end to this miserable week.

Part of you almost wanted to laugh at how Bucky had developed the skill of being able to keep up with your pace without even having to look up from his blackberry. That only came from years of practice.

“Terry loves playing with fire. Fuck him. If anyone can put him in his place on Monday, it’s you.” Bucky still hadn’t taken a second to pull his nose up from his phone, his steps landing in perfect time with yours until you reached the chamber at the end of the hall, throwing the heavy wooden door open in front of you. Bucky filtered in behind you of course, closing the door behind him before slipping his phone neatly into his pocket.

“Thought your doctor warned you about your blood pressure? You gotta calm down.” Bucky’s face showed he was genuinely concerned, his eyebrows knitted together in disdain but there was nothing new there. He had worked for you for years now and truth be told, he was damn good at his job, not to mention the fact he was the closest thing to a friend your busy schedule allowed you to have.

“I’ll calm down when I’m dead. We need to get to the airport if we’re going to make that flight for the convention.” You pulled your wig off, setting it neatly into the little wooden closet before removing your gown, hanging it up alongside the other worn ones from earlier in the week so they could all be dry cleaned and back in the closet for Monday.

“It’s a private jet honey, it can’t leave without you.” Bucky laughed softly, knowing you were worked up and hoping a little joke would ease the tension.

You had to admit, you were so thankful for Bucky. He was devoting the prime of his life to making sure you had everything you needed, your life only felt so seamless because Bucky made it that way. He didn’t just manage your calendar and fetch you coffee like any other PA, he lived and breathed you. He went everywhere with you, crashing in your spare room at least three nights a week because you had both worked yourselves to exhaustion. He never missed anything. He had a solution for every problem, nothing was too big for him to tackle and given the chance, you two could absolutely take over the world one day. You confided in him, and he in you, getting to know every tiny detail of his life in the past few years, right down to that fact that neither of you had seen your family or been on a date in months. Hell, he’d went as far as buying you a packet of batteries one Monday after a particularly long and stressful court hearing.

“Here, got you these.” He had smiled mischievously as he handed them over to you, chuckling a little at your confused expression. “For your vibrator. Looks like it’s gonna be a long week.” You took them gratefully, joking with him that you really would need them, tucking them into your handbag and damn were they appreciated. The following morning he had asked how you had got on and you could only laugh. You didn’t tell him how thoughts of him had come into your head right as you had gotten close. Similarly, you didn’t tell him how painfully intense your orgasm had been when you imagined him on the bed with you, watching you come apart against the plastic toy. You could just picture his hungry gaze, watching how your body gushed as you released, nipples pebbled from arousal and your lips parted, a single whimper of his name escaping you as you rode out your high.

No, that was a little secret you would keep to yourself. He didn’t need to know your dirtiest fantasies. He was an employee. An employee that often arrived at your bedroom door shirtless and smirking, holding a stack of freshly made pancakes on the mornings he stayed over at yours but an employee nonetheless.

—————————

The cab ride to the airport would have been silent if it hadn’t been for the gentle tapping of your thumbs and Bucky’s racing over your respective phone screens. You had at least two dozen emails left to reply to and your eyelids were beginning to get heavy, the body heat radiating from Bucky in the cab’s back seat making you drowsy. You took a second, squeezing your eyes shut to force away the tiredness before going back to typing relentlessly.

The trip to the airport was short, Bucky had competed the preflight checkin so you essentially stepped straight onto the plane, taking a seat by the window, with Bucky taking the one opposite you. Takeoff was smooth as always, your phones picked back up as soon as it was safe to do so. But with the glowing screen came a fresh wave of drowsiness, your eyelids threatening to close of their own accord.

“Shit, Buck did you pack my -“

“Glasses? Left side of your bag, under the tissues.” Bucky finished your sentence for you, not looking up from his phone.

“And my -“

“Eye drops? In your makeup bag.” There it was again. What surprised you most was that Bucky didn’t even need to see you to work out exactly what was wrong.

“Do you really just take care of everything?” You huffed out a little laugh, digging through your bag, finding both your glasses and eye drops exactly where he told you they would be.

“Everything but you.” He chuckled, finally setting his phone down.

“What do you mean ‘everything but me’? All you ever do is take care of me. You organise my shopping and dry cleaning for god’s sake.” The whole notion of Bucky doing anything but taking care of you was just insane because you sure as hell didn’t have time to do any of those things for yourself. That’s what you hired him for after all.

“I didn’t mean like that. I meant like really take care of you. You’re so damn up tight.” You knew by the little chuckle that accompanied his words that he meant it affectionately but it still made you slightly defensive.

“I’m not up tight.” You protested. Normally you would’ve let harmless comments like that slide but the combination of your shitty day and the fact you were so sleepy made it impossible to not seek out conflict. This was the life you were used to after all. A life of treating almost everyone you came across adversarially. It was second nature to you at this point, inside and outside the courtroom.

“Come on, you seem to forget I am your calendar. You think I don’t know you haven’t gotten any in months? You should get laid, that’s all I’m sayin’. Wouldn’t kill you to have an orgasm every once in a while.” The words roll off his tongue like it’s nothing and truth be told, if you were in better form, this would have been a perfectly normal conversation between the two of you. Neither of you were particularly shy when it came to talking about your hookups.

You hated how right he was. You hated that you hadn’t been touched in months and Bucky knew that. You hated that most days, you were too exhausted to bother tending to your own needs. And you hated the warmth spreading through your body at the thought of Bucky finally taking care of you.

“Don’t know Buck, an orgasm might actually kill me with my high blood pressure.” You needed this conversation to turn more light hearted and you needed it fast, before your head became so clouded with need that Bucky picked up on it.

“I mean, I handle everything else for you. Wouldn’t even mind if that became part of my remit.” You almost couldn’t believe how carefree and nonchalant this whole conversation seemed, Bucky hoping you missed how he cock twitched in his trousers. Of course you didn’t. You missed nothing.

“If what became part of your remit?” You quizzed firmly, trying not to give anything away but knowing your eyes had gone big and doe-like, entirely of their own accord. This was a dream come true.

“You. Actually taking care of you. However you need.” His stare was intense, watching you keenly to determine whether he had horrendously overstepped and was about to get fired.

“Why would you even want to?” Your voice carried every single ounce of confusion you were feeling, staring Bucky down with an intensity that mirrored his own in that moment.

“You’re far too smart to act dumb.” He replied softly, knowing it was all or nothing now. If he was getting fired, he might as well be honest. His head tilted downwards, drawing your attention to the bulge growing in his suit trousers. Years worth of need and longing bubbling over all at once.

“If you want this, tell me. If not, that’s fine. But it doesn’t need to be anything romantic. Can be just sex. Whatever you want.” He was doing his very best to stay calm, his brain finally catching up with his mouth and considering that he was now in way too deep to just apologise and about to get his ass handed to him at thousands of feet in the air by one of the best legal minds in the world.

You’d never wanted anything more in your life. It was almost like Bucky was dangling himself in front of you. A piece of meat before a lion that could be snatched away at any second. You weren’t going to give him the chance, professionalism be damned. You were out of your seat and onto his lap in a flash, your pencil skirt hiked up to allow you to bracket his legs in your own.

“Are you sure about this?” Your quizzed softly, giving him one last chance to back out before you lost all self control.

“Do I feel like I’m not sure?” His voice was almost a choked whisper, his hands landing on your hips to press you down against his stiff cock.

You’d never seen him like this before. Horny and needy and losing himself in the feeling of you on top of him after years of fantasies. He had tried to curb the fantasies but his body didn’t allow him to. You were all he could think of on those lonely nights, a hand wrapped around his cock, groans and whimpers escaping until he came over his hand, a cry of your name pulled from his lips. He thought you would never know. And now here he was, the woman of his dreams perched in his lap, asking to be taken care of. Even the filthiest parts of his brain couldn’t have come up with this.

He could never have dreamt how you moved forward so tentatively, your lips hardly even touching his. He was used to seeing you confident, in control, the calmest person under pressure and yet here you were, unsure of yourself for the first time, he imagined, in your life. You both kept your eyes open for a little while, your lips sliding together gently, getting a feel for one another, up until your teeth sank into the plush skin of his bottom lip and an actual groan left him, his eyelids fluttering shut. The sound could’ve made you quiver with need. It was so alarmingly sexy, knowing your huge, sexy PA could be taken apart with the smallest touches. Suddenly, this seemed to be as much, if not more, for Bucky’s benefit than your own.

“Thought this was for me, hm?” Somehow your condescending court voice was pushing him over the edge. You felt one of his hands come up, tangling in your hair while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling your core flush with his clothed cock. He kissed you with a burning intensity that made your head swim and your pussy throb, loving how he was taking control but still hurtling further into a breathless, needy state.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve thought about this. Didn’t think we’d be joining the mile high club.” He huffed out a little light laugh, using his grip on your waist to help you roll your hips over his growing erection.

“Couldn’t have been thinking about this for as long as I have.” You smiled softly, letting out a little gasp as his cock nudged you just right through your panties that you were sure had been soaked through already. His eyes went wide at your admission, his dick twitching deliciously underneath you.

“Fuck, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” He whispered, making you laugh at how eager he was.

“I won’t be able to wait until we’re off this plane Bucky. You gonna fuck me right here?” You teased him softly, your faces so close, your tiny hands running down his pristine shirt, toying with the buttons. When you began to graze his chest gently with your nails, it was like a switch flipped inside Bucky. He thrust up against you with a growl loving the yelp you let out, one hand now squeezing your ass, the other massaging your breasts through your blouse.

“Gonna fuck all the stress out of you. Gonna have you leavin’ this plane leakin’ and cockdrunk.” Somehow you didn’t even doubt his words and you had to admit, it did sound quite appealing to give up the control for a while, just letting Bucky take over.

“Gimme all you’ve got Barnes. Gotta make it worth my while or this is gonna be the last time you get the chance.” You couldn’t help but tease him before instantly realising that might have been a mistake, his lips burning hot as they worked against your own, needy, insistent and as always, eager to please.

His mouth was relentless to the point that you found yourself practically dry humping his cock, your hands laced in his hair while his untucked your blouse from your skirt, greedily holding onto any skin he could reach. He tasted of peppermint and coffee, smelt like the expensive aftershave you were so fond of and felt like a man who’s only purpose in life was to make you cum until it hurt.

“Need you. ‘Nside me. Now.” You managed somehow to pant the words out between the fervent slide of his lips over yours, his tongue dipping in to taste you, never wanting this to end.

The feeling of your much smaller hands landing on his belt buckle made him look down but he could’ve cum then and there at the sight that met him. The front of his suit pants were slick with your mess, proof that he wasn’t just dreaming and you really were needing this just as badly as he was.

“You’re so fuckin’ ready for it aren’t you? Look at the mess you’ve made. Why didn’t we do this years ago?” He was groaning, shifting in his seat to help you get his trousers and boxers down. You couldn’t help how you gasped a little at the sheer size of him, his cock thick and long, the head slick with precum, proud veins running up his shaft. He looked Godly. Two firm pumps was all it took to have his head thrown back against the plush leather seat, cursing and bucking against your hand, aching for more.

“I’m sorry Buck, I can’t wait any longer.” You panted, his lips attached to your neck now, kissing, licking and sucking all his frustration into your skin. If there was a time for foreplay, that wasn’t it. Neither of you had the patience right now.

“Thank God, needa feel this pretty pussy.” He all but whispered as you lined him up at your soaking entrance.

“Shit Bucky, you got a condom?” You asked anxiously, stilling yourself at the last second.

“My bag, zip compartment at the front.” He replied quietly and sure enough, that’s exactly where you found a packet. Tearing the wrapper off, you slid it down his length earning another groan from the huge man who was practically shaking beneath you.

“You think of everything.” You giggled, finally beginning to slowly sink yourself down onto him. Your laugh quickly turned into a breathy moan, your breath mingling with Bucky’s and you noticed how he made a very similar noise. You pressed yourself down slowly, your body having to adjust to the stretch.

“So tight, fuck. Shit, never felt a tighter pussy in my life.” He whispered when you were finally seated on top of him. He pulled your skirt out of the way to appreciate just how connected your bodies were in that moment. His cock just seemed to fit perfectly, so snug you could’ve cried as you began to slowly work your hips against his.

“Oh my god Bucky you’re huge.” You should’ve been embarrassed by how high and needy your whine came out but right then and there, you didn’t care.

“It’s all yours sweetheart. Gonna fuck you so good you never need another cock again. Gonna ruin anyone else for you - fuck.” Under normal circumstances you would’ve chastised him for being so overconfident but feeling how his cock nudged your sweet spot perfectly, you thought he might actually be right.

“Gotta fuck you angel, can’t just sit here anymore, ‘s driving me crazy.” He just couldn’t keep himself still any longer, lust burning behind his eyes in a way you had never seen in him before. You lifted yourself up slowly, feeling his length slipping from you, your walls fighting to pull him deeper until you sank back down, taking the whole length at once. The strangled cry that left Bucky was incredible. You repeated your gentle rise and fall, setting a decent pace. Every sharp fall of your hips tore a needy gasp from both of you, the sweetest spot inside you throbbing from the almost constant onslaught. It was everything you craved. Bucky was grasping at every curve of your body, lost in the feeling of your soft skin and the grip of your silky walls and the smell of your shampoo as you rode him, building speed as your pleasure built in your lower belly. The wet sounds escaping where your bodies were joined was nothing short of obscene, only fuelling Bucky to meet each of your thrusts with his own.

“Oh my god, I -oh oh- I can’t, can’t take it Bucky please.” You groaned, manicured fingernails digging into his chest.

“I got you honey. ‘s okay. Gonna take such good care of you when we get to the hotel. Just want you to cum once for me now, okay? Take the edge off. You feel so good wrapped round me. You know what else I can feel? Your pretty pussy is leakin’. Feel you drippin’ down over my balls. Never felt anything so hot in my ‘ntire life.” His fingers fell to your clit, rubbing neatly as if he had been trained to do nothing else. You were on cloud nine, your high so close but not quite there yet.

“Bucky, gonna cum. Oh fuck!” You whined, your orgasm hitting you like a train. You came with a loud cry, eyes squeezed shut, rocking against him more than fucking so his cock stayed buried inside you.

“Shit, how did you get even fuckin’ tighter. ‘M so close.” He whispered against your neck, broken and needy. Your high had all but subsided, aftershocks still pleasantly coursing through you as you went back to letting your hips rise and fall so Bucky could finish. It only took four more well timed thrusts before he was cumming with a shout, pulling you flush against him as his balls emptied into the condom.

You were both spent and sweaty but more satisfied than you could remember being in months, your chest pressed to his as you both came down, craving a little extra affection. Bucky held you for a good few minutes until you felt his cock softening, knowing he really should get cleaned up. You let him slip from you, pulling your skirt down to take your original seat across from him again.

“Gimme a second.” He whispered, kissing your forehead before making his way to the little bathroom, returning a few minutes later looking just as put together as ever, apart from his telltale grin.

“Jesus, we should do that more often.” You smiled quietly when he returned, letting him settle in the chair beside you this time, the dividing arm rest pushed out of the way so you could cuddle as much as possible given the limited space.

“I can’t stop now honey. That pussy is addictive.” He smiled, happy to see you leaning so comfortably up against him but even happier when he heard your soft little snores.

Taglist:

@harrysthiccthighss @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @justatirednightowl @littlecanadianlani @babebr @sebsbrokentoe @badgirlwolfy

1K notes · View notes

shirophantomvox · 3 years

Text

Leorio, Hisoka, Illumi, and Chrollo Head Canons #2

What’s up y’all! Thank you so much to the people who have given me feedback about what posts you all would like to see! This post will be about the “Adult Trio” and Leorio about how they would help their significant other with a subject in college. This one is a good suggestion! I’m going to incorporate fluff in this, as I am a sucker for fluff. I hope you all enjoy this! I most certainly do. This post is about 2687 words but don't worry, it's worth the read! These head canons came from my mind its a coincidence that some of these pictures match the thoughts. Portentous (old English) means wonderful or marvelous (in modern English) FYI: I am thinking about creating a discord server for both Voltron and Hunter x Hunter fans. I don’t know how to use the fancy perks of discord yet, so if you know how to and can help me out, send me a message! Alright, let’s get to it! Obviously these images are from Pinterest.

Discord Server for Voltron and HxH fans!

Leorio

“Mr. Leorio”, as we all know, is a sharp guy. He dresses in a suit, carries a suitcase, and wants to be a doctor. This man knows everything about academics, especially math and science. He will need to know these subjects to be a successful medical doctor.

Leorio received an A- in Calculus II and a B+ in Organic Chemistry. He was the only one that passed with flying colors while everyone else barely made it. He didn’t gloat in their faces but as soon as he got into the hallway he jumped for joy.

He was extremely happy about his progress and counted the days until graduation even though that was in 5 years. Wow! Don’t we love graduate school?!

He deserved the high grades because he spent countless nights studying missing parties, football games, and being with you just to make sure he was on the right track to graduating on time.

As we all know, Leorio wanted to pursue this career because he witnessed his best friend dying in front of him powerless to save him. The care for his friend would have been too expensive. Obtaining his degree was in honor of his friend; he’d save countless children, women, and men who’d all thank him for his hard work.

Leorio didn’t socialize much, but he did find himself hanging around a group of classmates that were a part of a co-ed fraternity that provided information on scholarship money for graduate school and job opportunities. This is where he met you. You didn’t want to be a doctor but instead wanted to be a computer scientist and decided to volunteer for this fraternity job fair.

As he rejoiced, his smile faded when he saw you walking down the hallway; tears falling from your face not caring who stared at you. He quickly walked up to you, put his arm around your back, and gave you a soft hug.

“What’s the matter,” he asks.

You were failing Calculus, a class you’ve been taking since the 12th grade but for some reason, you couldn’t pass it. Everyone else had A’s and B’s, while you had a D. D’s aren't accaetable in college; most make you retake the class.

“Don’t worry. I’ve just passed my midterm. I can help you study. You’ll pass; trust me.”

Later on that evening, he kept his promise but gave it a unique twist. He kept the lights off and lit 4 Yankee-sized candles in the room that smelled like Lavender. In the background, he had piano jazz playing on his speaker. You felt confused for a moment. You and Leorio weren’t necessarily dating but you both flirted with each other here and there. He wasn’t a social butterfly, but he felt comfortable talking to you.

“Um...what’s the music for?”

“It helps me concentrate. Believe it or not, it helps my brain flow. You like it don’t you?”

“No, actually I don’t.” Truth be told you loved it but you wanted to pull his strings a little. He looked up with a confused look.

“Ok. I’ll turn it off.”

“I'm kidding! It’s great!”

Whenever he cannot solve a Calculus question, he reviews similar problems from Algebra II. He applies this knowledge to your problem.

“Perform the indicated function evaluations for f(x)=3−5x−2x^2 . I’ll solve the first part for an example: f(6+t) simply means you will exchange “x” for 6+t. It will look like f(6+t)=3-5(6+t)-2(6+t)^2=-49 . You’d distribute -5 and -2 to the numbers inside of the brackets in which they are next to.”

Wow, that was easy! Wait, not he must think you’re stupid.

“You must think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

“Of course not! It took me a while to understand it too. You’ll apply the same knowledge for the rest.”

After what seemed like 4 hours (which was 2), you finally finished your homework! It was probably wrong but at least you made it past the 1st question! As you blew out the candles and turned on your LED lights instead, you see Leorio sleeping on your couch. Something about his soft face made you smile and place your hand over your heart.

“My little doctor,” you whispered to yourself.

“Well, come give this doctor some company then. I’m freezing over here!”

The throw blanket was large enough for you both. Snuggling on the couch was a great end to a stressful day.

Chrollo

To everyone else Chrollo was “Boss” or “Boss Man” but to you, he was Chrollo. Big C was known for his love for poetry and language.

He read poetry any chance he had at lunch and even dinner. It had gotten so bad that you had to tell him for the millionth time “No books at the table!”

Given his past, he always read at least 2 hours a day or one book a week. Reading is what got him through the day.

He was staying in your dorm for the day to relax because he had taken and passed his midterms to. The young thief thought about hiding in the closet but he didn’t because he sensed that you’d be tense because of midterms.

As you walked through the door, you looked angry, so angry that you could punch a wall. He immediately rose to his feet, threw his arms straight out in front of him, and motioned for you to stop. You just stared at him blankly.

“Come here,” he said like you, on cue, melted in his arms. He was warm and the deepness of his cooing voice vibrated against your neck. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m failing this stupid Shakespeare class!”

“Really?”

“Yes and if I don’t pass this midterm I’m going to fail the class for the 3rd time. I want to drop out! Who needs this scam anyway?!”

Chrollo held you a bit longer until you were ready to sit down and get to business. You pulled out your college’s book about Shakespeare plays and how he used Old English. Chrollo was the perfect man for the job! He’s read Macbeth and Romeo and Juliet several times!

Chrollo read a few stanzas and explained them. He then had you read some on your own and explain them...still you can’t.

He notices the problem immediately. He catches you snuggling comfortably against his toned arm, nearly falling asleep.

Chrollo laid at the very corner of the couch as you lay horizontally placing your head against his chest. You were comfortable but you weren’t able to focus. He notices this and slightly demands that you go sit at the table. When it came to academics, he was serious.

For as long as he had been reading, he has an arsenal of vocabulary words ready to be of use. He created flashcards for you and had you flip them over for nearly an hour. You start to memorize the words!

But you’re not done yet.

“Say the word ‘portentous’.”

“Por-ten-trious…?”

“No. Por-ten-tas.”

“Tias…?”

He moved his chair next to you, just an inch away from your face. He cups your mouth and moves it as he speaks again. This wasn’t a hard clutch, it was soft and he wasn’t irritated but he could sense that you were becoming irritated.

“Por-ten-tas,” he said again.

Instead of letting your cheeks go, his eyes diverted to your lips. They were moist and plump, ready to be met by his.

“Your lips are gorgeous. Kisseth me quite quaint.”

Oh no. Look at the monster you’ve created.

Chrollo created a reward system. Whenever he did things right as a child, he was rewarded with money and jewels. For every word you pronounced and defined correctly, he kissed you once. For each word you got correct in a row, he’d kiss you twice.

Soon enough he had kissed you so much that you couldn’t see straight!

The kisses worked because you passed your midterm! Each kiss placed a stain in your brain that made you remember the definition and how to pronounce it.

You and Chrollo celebrated by drinking champagne and listened to him read Sonnet 23 and 57.

Hisoka

As unusual as it seems, Hisoka is gifted when it comes to Chemistry specifically. That is why you two work well together...there is some chemistry going on between you two.

His hair down and his glasses were his alter ego, it was something that made him act completely different than what you were used to.

When you all were freshmen, he would skip class, attend parties, and would be hungover almost every week but once he was called into the Dean’s office, he changed.

You slightly missed that edgy side of him, but you enjoyed having a serious beau.

Hisoka is a social butterfly and is the life of the conversation and you loved him for it but sometimes it was awkward.

While he was chatting away about Calcium (Ca) and Iron (Fe), you stood there nodding like an idiot. You had NO IDEA about what he was talking about and that is why you were going to drop your chemistry class.

“I saw an imbecile put aluminum foil in the microwave and it burst into flames. How did they not know that Microwaves are the radio waves falling under frequency around 2500 megahertz? Any metallic object detected by radio waves inside the microwave acts as a reflector of radio waves.”

You shove his arm hard. He was acting arrogant in front of his friends. You were used to this but it got on your nerves. You made mistakes, everyone does!...even those that almost burn down the entire dorm room.

You two leave the party and head to his dorm room. Once you were settled, you released a can of anger and threw it all over your boyfriend.

“Hisoka? You just humiliated me.”

“Oh? No one knows that I was talking about you, my dear.”

“Don’t ‘my dear’ me! I asked for your help and you’re ignoring me. I don’t appreciate that. I didn’t ignore you when you sprained your ankle, did I?”

“No, you didn’t, dear. I supposed I have a few hours to kill. What do you need help with?”

Hisoka’s way of studying was much different from other students. He exercises like crazy before he opens his textbook.

He listens to EDM instrumentals while on the treadmill and when he lifts weights. You weren’t standing there like a trophy, he made you lift too.

“Being healthy will help your brain flow more easily. Lift this dumbbell as heavy as you can.”

He ran a mile on the track upstairs. Sweat dripped from his face like he had been standing outside in the rain.

By the time you returned to his dorm, you were beyond tired. You laid your head on his pillow but just as you closed your eyes, he pulled you up on your feet.”

“Not on my watch,” he tutted. “It’s chemistry time.”

You were having trouble memorizing Chemical Formulas and this by far was the most difficult concept you had come across.

To make you stay awake, he turned on a bright LED light and faced it towards the table. The bright light nearly made your head fall off from the pain it reflected in your eyes.

Hisoka grabbed his book and began to write down the major chemicals on the periodic table and their charges.

“Pay attention to the following abbreviations and charges: Calcium is Ca, Chloride is Cl+2, Carbide is C+2, and Carbon Dioxide is CO+2. Read these over and I’ll test you again.”

He did just that but you still weren’t understanding. You were ready to give up.

Stupid scam. Why do I need a piece of paper to determine what I can do? You thought to yourself. Well, it’s obvious. If you can’t do the work now, what makes you think you can do it at a job? Harsh, I know.

“Let me try this,” He said. He carried you to his bedroom and gently placed you on it. He took off his shirt and removed his glasses. “Aluminum has a charge of +3 and Oxygen has -2. If there were three of me and two of my clones disappeared, how many of me are left?”

“Just you, right? One”

“Correct! Excellent.”

Wow, everything started making sense once he took his shirt off.

From then, he just inserted himself into the equation and then it started to make sense! He apologized for running his mouth earlier and promised to keep any more secrets between you two. The night ended with you sleeping in his bed wrapped in a cotton blanket just cuddling and that was it. And bam! You slept as sound.

Illumi

Dating the “hot” quiet history buff was a flex of its own. Sure Illumi didn’t talk to anyone besides you, but it didn’t matter. People swooned if he looked in their direction.

History was a popular major during your era. People were not like their grandparents; they wanted to learn about other cultures besides their own. Illumi’s specialty was in world history and civilizations. The class was very interesting to you but there was so much information, you could barely process it.

Illumi often wrote his essays in one day proofread and all! He often charged people to look their essays over.

One time he made $500 in one year!

Glancing at your transcripts, he notices that you have a C- and offers to help.

“Why are you looking through my stuff?”

Hey, he’s your boyfriend! But still, he should ask.

“Sorry. It was up on the screen,” he said, throwing his hands in the air.

You began to blush in embarrassment. The hottest smartest man in the building now knew that you were failing one of the easiest classes on campus.

Placing his thumb under your chin, he lifted your head to meet his gaze. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I can help you.”

“How? I am so behind! I zoned out after chapter 2!”

“We’ll watch a movie.”

“Oh, God! Not one from PBS is it?!”

“Yes. How else are you supposed to learn?”

He turns on the movie and allows you to lay your head on his shoulder but not too much. He is aware of your tricks and he wants you to pay attention.

Every 15 minutes, he pauses the movie and asks you checkpoint questions. If you got them wrong, you had to stand up with your underclothes on (t-shirt and shorts) in the cool room for 10 minutes. If you got the questions right, he allows you to lay more comfortably. You were already in your underclothes but you were under the blanket.

He made you write down key definitions and the embarrassment of each section.

After the movie, he blindfolds you and reads out a term. Surprisingly, you got them all correct!

As a reward for your past midterm, he takes you to dinner at a restaurant where he slips a promise ring on your finger containing your birthstone.

182 notes · View notes

kodzumie-archived · 3 years

Note

hi! sorry, i think my request was too specific so lemme rephrase: poly! nagito x reader x kokichi, with a loving and considerate reader -💙

❝SWEETHEART’S CONVEYANCE❞

Synopsis; What are the the antongnistic duo like in a polyamorous relationship with a loving partner?

Featuring; Kokichi Oma x GN! Reader x Nagito Komaeda

Warning(s); Polyamorous, romantic relationship, self-degradation (Nagito), and suppression of vulnerability (Kokichi).

Kodzumie’s Note; Ahh, the original request wasn’t too specific, don’t worry, dear! But thank you for being so considerate! And also, thank you for being my first polyamory request! This request makes me so happy, I felt obligated to do it as soon as possible, hehe. And of course you can be our beloved 💙 anon! I’m so happy to have you with us! <3

➤ KOKICHI OMA & NAGITO KOMAEDA

⤷ Contrary to bystander belief, this relationship would be as boisterous as it is philanthropic; built upon a foundation of veiled compassion.

⤷ Whilst your boyfriends contradict traditional conveyance of affection, there’s no doubt they truly do appreciate you. But neither could compare to the benevolence you’ve granted the duo.

⤷ Albeit in rather old-school conveyance, you persistently seek forms of portrayal for your affections. Whether it be the occasional handwritten notes left beside the plates of breakfast you’d left behind for the two, each expressing your fondness and wishing them a wonderful rest of their day.

⤷ Or even the splurge of gifts for the two, purchasing trinkets you believe they’d enjoy. And, for every dollar spent, it’ll all be worth the million-dollar gleam that brushes upon their eyes.

⤷ Nagito infatuated with the idea that someone would dare spend money on scum like him, much less buy him something they insisted he’d be interested in. It’s a foreign sense, an exotic appreciation in which you’d taken the time out of your schedule to even think of him.

⤷ And as he’s about to spout his gratitude and disbelief upon such devotion to trash such as himself, he’s cut off by the infamous trickster himself.

⤷ “Save that crap. What about me? Where’s my gift? Huh, huh?” Kokichi’s petite stature leaning to the right as he attempts to catch a glimpse of what you could possibly have in store for him.

⤷ Paying no heed to the interruption of his valuation, Nagito smiles fondly as he eyes the amethyst-haired male eagerly bounces on the balls of his heels, awaiting his gift, though impatiently.

⤷ One would assume you’d get fed up at his persistent antics but, in all honesty, it was one of the many things you―along with Nagito―had appreciated.

⤷ Even amidst moments in which the air is stilled, tension doused in the form of metaphoric clouds above your heads, he’s bustling with a rowdiness that shows no hintings of dissipation.

⤷ And as you reveal the gadget hidden behind your back, presenting it to your practically vibrating-in-anticipation boyfriend, you swore not even the stars could capture the illumination of glee that brushed upon his lilac eyes. His hands reaching forward with such fervor that he was seemingly a blur within that very moment.

⤷ “You didn’t!” He professed in disbelief, lips split into a grand smirk as he eyes the gift you’d presented him; a water gun.

⤷ Albeit an inkling of concern swirled within your gut upon his sinister cackle as he testingly aims at Nagito, in which the taller male’s eyes widen in surprise as he raises his hands in surrender―his own gift within his left hand.

⤷ Upon Nagito’s reaction, Kokichi’s cackles morphed into wicked chuckles as he feigns to reload his water gun with imaginative ammo.

⤷ “That’s right, put ‘em up.” He jests. All the while, you rolled your eyes with an amused visage of your own at the sight of your shorter boyfriend’s antics.

⤷ A Pavlovian reaction from the younger male, eagerly jumping the gun—quite literally—and pestering Nagito to engage in his games, claiming he’d be the perfect companion. (Though, by this, it usually meant the perfect individual to carry him piggyback due to his tall stature.)

⤷ Nonetheless, the sight of your boyfriends joining forces against you with the gift you’d bought is undeniably one you cherish. Even as you sprint full speed through the household, dodging the blasts of water aimed towards you.

⤷ Despite Nagito’s persistent insistence that you’d be better suited to entertain Kokichi than a mere nobody like him, the aforementioned amethyst-haired male that assures him he’s the only one capable.

⤷ It isn’t the common occurrence to be of witness to Kokichi’s considerate moments; withdrawing himself from his playful nature to build another’s esteem.

⤷ And thus, it’s even more satisfying to bask in Nagito’s united laughter with Kokichi’s manic cackles as you narrowly avoid a blast of water. The former carrying the ladder on his back—rather easily due to how light Kokichi is—and dashing after you.

⤷ It’s a laugh so carefree—so riddled in unhindered joy—you almost couldn’t believe this was the same, unabashed laugh of your self-degrading boyfriend.

⤷ Not even Kokichi was immune to the flurry of butterflies within the encompass of your stomachs as he, too, smiled giddily upon the melodic laughter, a roseate decorating his pallid cheeks in momentary euphoria.

⤷ In the beginnings of your gifts, Nagito struggled immensly to accept them. Even as he blushed a hue so fiercely—face burning with awe as sweat began to dampen his rosette skin—he insisted he couldn’t accept any gift from someone of your ethereality.

⤷ He swore up and down that he was already taking far too much of you and Kokichi by intruding on the relationship, much less, garner your affections.

⤷ Though, with time, he steadily learned to see past the hindrance of his self-loathing, it was still rather difficult to bear witness to the one who’d claimed both of your hearts to avoid your conveyances due to their poor views of themself.

⤷ Much to your delight, he’s now discovering value within himself as he peers through the lens of you and Kokichi’s combined love. It’s a gradual process but one that you’re more than willing to wait for to see the treasure of Nagito truly loving—if not love—than tolerating himself.

⤷ With every conveyance of your affections, you hope that your love can be transferred to the two, and assist them in melting through the walls of their hindrances; their shields in which they’d desperately hid their vulnerabilities from the world.

⤷ Whether it be through the gifts in which your taller boyfriend would insist that he was undeserving of and promise to return the favor with a gift of his own whilst the shorter would use your gifts against you, similarly to the water gun incident, comically; love letters; domestic care; reassuring consolation; service.

⤷ Anything that could possibly provide insight of the affectiom you’d withheld for the two, you’d committed to with a fiery passion. Not a trace of hesitancy or delay.

⤷ Typically, within the day-to-day, you and Nagito would withhold a majority of the materate responsibilities. Though Nagito eagerly offers to take the workload upon himself entirely, there’s no denying the softening of his eyes as you reject his offer and, rather, offer to take the workload off of him.

⤷ He appreciates your insistence, especially the way you’d put his wellbeing within the realm of priority. A hierarchy he’d never considered himself within, so to think that you could do so much as care for his state is more than he could ever ask for.

⤷ Truth be told, one of Nagito’s favorite domestic activities to complete alongisde you is laundry. The intimacy of being able to sit alongside you and fold the articles of clothing whilst chatting, blissfully distracted, is serene.

⤷ More so, the lighthearted, momentary comedic relief of revealing that your underwear was within his clutches is always a treat. Especially when you’d rapidly swipe the garment with the inklings of embarrassment within your grin.

⤷ Though he does have quite a habit of sniffing the fresh clothing. The extent to which he does so is—by bystander perspective—questionable, but he promises that he merely adores the cleanliness of the warm clothing. (And that even after the garments trip through the washing machine, there still is the lingering of both his lovers’ scents.)

⤷ Kokichi has offered to help at times—though usually with an intentional entirely other than to actually do laundry. The petite, amethyst-haired trickster sedentary between you and Nagito as he sloppily folds the clothes.

⤷ It’s blatant that his mind is elsewhere as he appears less than pleased whilst assisting. Even offering to “spice things up” and tosses a pair of socks at you and Nagito with a wicked giggle.

⤷ Sometimes he’ll even steal some of your—you and Nagito’s—clothes and wear them while working, claiming they make his Ultimate Supreme Leader senses at top-notch. To which Nagito agrees with, mindlessly, as he mumbles something about wanting to appease the wishes of a leader.

⤷ But, of all the domestic activities Kokichi has taken part in—not much but still—he claims that cooking together has to be his favorite.

⤷ Not only because he adores being the taste-tester—of course, as the Ultimate Supreme Leader, he must test it first to assure that it’s adequate for his beloveds—but because he’s enamored with the teamwork; the collaboration.

⤷ Not within a lifetime will Kokichi ever explicitly confess such, but he admires the notion of teamwork. To make a collaborative effort and genuinely place dependence upon one another to reach an end goal... he finds the idea to be so far from the encompass of his will that he adores the conception of it.

⤷ He, himself, struggles with depending on others. Opting for completing everything on his own and taking charge in the form of claiming stake upon the workload.

⤷ So being able to ask of you to grab something and to be able to complete the order asked of him—he’s usually the mixer—it’s euphoric for him. And, along with this, he truly does enjoy cooking.

⤷ Though his skills are rather questionable due to only being able to properly create a selective variety of dishes. But when he does succeed, it’s an absolute delight to be able to taste it. Nagito sometimes claims the dishes to be something akin to that of an Ultimate Chef.

⤷ A love delievered through the swan-sunken eyes of sensuality, fingers brushed upon one another as you go about your daily lives, is a love in which your two lovers value above all. To be cared for even when there are other priorities, it’s empowering.

⤷ However, amidst the serenity of the closest of affections, nothing can counter their equally preferred time of day; the nighttime cuddles.

⤷ Laying atop the mattress that could just about fit the three of you, entangled limbs drawing each of you closer as the warmth of the blanket barely rivals that of your bodies. Each of your breaths rhythmic of one another.

⤷ Kokichi’s form—by his drowsy request—between your bodies as he rests his back against Nagito’s chest, gazing up at you with a rare yet genuine grin riddled with the inklings of slumber.

⤷ The aforementioned male coiling his arms around the waist of your boyfriend, too, has his arm extenting outwards towards you, pulling you into the spooning as well. Much to Kokichi’s delight, the ladder instantaneously latching his legs around your hips, pulling you into his arms.

⤷ Yet the most blissful of these moments in which true adorations lie is the most miniscule of all. It’s so peaceful; such tranquility to be within each other’s arms as each of you is gradually lulled to sleep.

⤷ And yet, it’s as uneventful as it is impactful. Perhaps it was the nights in which each of your boyfriends felt sleep come easier? Perhaps it was the warmth of your collective bodies that brought upon the savory bliss?

⤷ Or perhaps it was the way that as each of them gazed upon—meeting your eyes with each of their infatuated own—there was a fire alit. One in which, after the periods in which you’ve all spent together; learned together; changed together, had never seemed to fade.

⤷ Not even as they, too, know they’re pushing your limits, irritating you to no bounds. Not even as they find their moment sin which they’re far too sluggish to be of decent assistance. Not even during the meltdowns in which they’d shut you out of their heart and recline to their suppressive defense.

⤷ There was never a moment in which the flames of had dwindled; an eternal ember of compassion. Not even throughout the sabotage of their demeanor. And not even as you flutter your eyes shut, enveloping slumber within your embrace.

⤷ The searing of love within your eyes had never faltered and that, on its own, is enough to reign over each of their hearts—assuring them that they, truly, are lovable without condition—and lull them to sleep as well.

#sdr2 x reader #dr2 x reader #ndrv3 x reader #drv3 x reader #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #kokichi x reader #kokichi oma x reader #kokichi ouma x reader #danganronpa x reader #nagito hcs #nagito imagines #kokichi headcanons #danganronpa hcs #danganronpa scenarios

296 notes · View notes

inkedtae · 4 years

Text

doe’s peak ⇾ ksj. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ gryffindor!seokjin x slytherin!reader (f.)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ e2l, hogwarts au, some fluff, a bit of angst, smut, pwp, filth, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ a series of reckless pranks leads to a dismissal from Hogwarts and a new house guest. two weeks of amity sessions ends on a happier note than expected.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 20.1k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ brief mention of a fire, brief mention of theft, blonde!seokjin, longhair/ponytail!seokjin, pureblood!seokjin, dom!seokjin, brat tamer!seokjin, halfblood(?)!reader, sub!reader, brat!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), rough sex, public sex, outdoor sex, hate sex, degradation, mutual masterbation, double penatration, exhibition, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, heavy humiliation kink, use of vibrating dildo, oral (m. and f. receiving), orgasm denial, bondage, begging, hair pulling, spanking, pussy slapping, manhandling, fingering, edging, cum eating, face fucking, deep-throating, throat-cockwarming (?), cum swapping (?), panty eating (?), a bit of anal, a lil ass and titty play, spit play, a lil food play, basically filth

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ this was supposed to be a fluffy drabble...

･ﾟﾟ･｡ beta’d by ⇾ @kitsutaes (my luff~) & @moonmintrails (my soulmate~)

･ﾟﾟ･｡ le playlist

⟶ please note that, despite still attending Hogwarts, all characters are of consenting age

He smells of tough cedar and sweet cherries. It’s common for his scent to fill the room after a bath. You want to say you despise it but, in fact, you find it quite comforting. It always helps lull you to sleep. You fear that you might have grown too comfortable with it. The last two weeks of his very presence have been much of a bother, but it’s the little things, like the way he smells and the soft patters of his footsteps, that almost make you glad he’s around. You wonder how you’ll be able to fall asleep without him after tomorrow.

Two weeks flew by. You’ve been praying for that reality since Headmistress McGonagall first suggested this arrangement. Both you and Seokjin have been excused from classes for fourteen days, issued off campus and into your home in the muggle world. Magic is prohibited, wands confiscated, but the two of you are still expected to keep up with your class readings and assignments should you both return to Hogwarts.

“Spending intimate time with one another without the temptation of magic will put an end to all these shenanigans,” McGonagall insisted.

Despite the reality of sharing your home and room with someone as insufferable as Kim Seokjin, you're thankful the headmistress didn’t opt for a more serious consequence. After all, you are still under investigation for the fire in the Gryffindor dormitories. Records reflect that it started in Seokjin’s room and witnesses place you at the scene of the crime. And the fact that you’ve admitted to being there, reclaiming letters Seokjin had stolen from you, doesn’t help your case. McGonagall promises to share the results of the investigation once your two weeks with Seokjin come to an end.

A fire was never your intention. Truly, all you wanted was the year’s worth of letters from your family Seokjin kept intercepting. Before finding out he was behind it, you were convinced your family was upset with you. You’ve written to them consistently, telling them you miss them and wondering why they haven’t responded. You found stacks of letters, some opened and read, in his room. You had every intention of sneaking back in at night and levitating his bed into the lake while he’s sleeping as a means of retaliation. Though you were worried he’d found out about your family, about the truth, a fire never even crossed your mind. You’re almost certain you had blown all the candles out before leaving.

Twirling the gold, snake headed pendant of your necklace between your fingers, you wonder if maybe you left one lit subconsciously. Maybe a part of you wanted to set his room on fire, wanted him to suffer as you did when you thought your family was on the cusp of disowning you.

These are dangerous thoughts. You can’t be capable of such destruction. Yes, you might have charmed his broom to launch him into the lake, or dyed his hair blonde through a potion “mistake,” but to set his room on fire is cruel. No matter how badly you want him to keep your secret or how badly you want to get even, you know you would never turn to such an evil act.

With a deep breath, you flip the page of your History of Magic textbook, and attempt to refocus your attention on the Battle of Hogwarts. You try to drown out every sound he makes down the hall, every waft of his scent that trickles into your room. All is well until he decides to enter your shared room without a shirt. Only a simple red towel hangs around his thin waist.

You can’t help but stare. Little droplets stream down his wide chest. Nipples hard; abs tight. You regret to recognize how heavenly he looks. A breathless sigh escapes you as he shakes a smaller towel through his long hair. More drops of water spatter about, but your attention narrows on his arms. Has he always been that muscular?

A single scan over his tall frame soaks your panties. You curse him three times over, having just changed into them. You were clean and ready for bed before he came in looking like that. Damp hair in a loose braid, a soft, flowy nightgown on, face primped and moisturized. All that was left for you to do was some light reading of next week’s topic. Then he comes in, basically naked and wet, making your pussy clench at the sight. Can’t he do anything right? Why the hell didn’t he get dressed in the bathroom?

“Why the hell didn’t you get dressed in the bathroom?”

Seokjin spares you a glance over his shoulder as he walks out to hang the small towel on the railing. You can’t help but drool over the flexing muscles of his back. Hate fills your chest at the awakened desire to run your tongue across the length of his shoulders.

“I forgot to take my clothes,” he shrugs, making his way back into the room. He shuts the door and begins to rummage around the drawers Mama forced you to empty for him.

You mutter a colourful insult under your breath as he pulls on a pair of boxer briefs under his towel. The thought of taking them back off doesn’t surprise you as much as the act of leaning off your bed to sneak a look at his dick. Heat rushes to your cheeks the moment you register your actions. What the hell has gotten into you? Shifting back in your seat, you press your thighs together to attempt to soothe the ache between your legs.

What has come over you? You’ve seen shirtless guys before, been under a few of them too. Not to mention, this is Seokjin. The arrogant, conceded idiot who stole your letters all year and read them. You hate him, you know every part of you does. So why is the sight of him shirtless this captivating?

No, you mentally assert. It’s not Seokjin you’re attracted to; it’s the idea of a shirtless guy - any guy. You’ve been isolated in your house with a daft, alpaca looking pureblood and his pet sugar glider (which is against school rules but he manages to keep one anyways.) You just miss sex. All you have to do is get yourself off and all other thoughts of stupid, shirtless Seokjin will disappear. You decide that once he goes to sleep, you’ll, as quietly as you can, get yourself off under the covers.

Your jaw almost drops when he doesn’t reach for a shirt or pants. Seokjin shuts the drawers and tosses the wet towel that was previously wrapped around his waist in the hamper. The nerve of this fucker. He prances around your room in only his underwear, acting like this is his house, not yours. You set your jaw and raise an unimpressed brow.

When his gaze meets yours, you can’t help but glare. He doesn’t entertain your annoyed antics as he usually does. With heavy eyes and a little yawn, he grumbles, “Shove over.”

You scoff. “Funny.”

“I mean it,” he sighs, flicking up the covers. “I’ve spent the last two weeks on the floor. I earned my time on this bed.”

A hiss escapes you as the cold air hits your smushed, exposed thighs. You snatch the sheets from his hands and cover yourself up again. “That’s ‘cause it’s my bed.”

“Just move over.”

“No.”

Seokjin waves his hand, effortlessly pushing your body aside. With your wands confiscated, the most the two of you can do is wave little commands to practise magic. Before you can react with more than just a gasp, he hops into bed and makes himself comfortable. “Much better,” he smirks.

You can feel his bare legs brush up against yours, but ignore the rise of goosebumps long enough to kick him away. “You’re a fiend, Kim Seokjin. A pureblooded, bottom feeding, prideful... jerk-ing fiend.” You may have stuttered through the last insult, catching yourself getting lost in his eyes, but you believe you’ve made your point clear.

“Prideful jerking?” Seokjin questions with an amused smile. He quirks his head to the side and sighs.

He opens his mouth to offer his opinion but you silence him with the slam of your book and a switch off the lights by the wave of your hand. You know he’s not leaving. He doesn’t even make an effort to move. There’s not much to do except ignore his entire existence and try to get some sleep. Accepting the fate of your night, you set your textbook on your night table and turn to your side with every intention of falling asleep.

But then the bed dips. You raise a brow, thinking he might’ve come to his senses and decided to return to his place on the ground. Only, his side of the bed doesn’t feel lighter. The springs screech as he shifts until the quiet clutter of a soft object hits the hardwood floor.

You hear him spit. Once, twice then the slick sound of slouched wetness fills the room. Breath hitching, you turn back to find him sitting up, back against the headboard and briefless. “Huge,” you whisper, too fixated on his size to even care about his quiet, arrogant chuckles.

You knew Seokjin invented big dick energy, but to see his size, in the fucking dark, and still fear for your pussy is another story. Huge doesn’t even begin to cover it. You’re sure giants don’t even have a cock as big as he does. It isn’t the biggest cock you’ve seen; it’s just quite simply the biggest cock to exist.

“How’d you know I was into being watched?” He asks as he continues to pump himself.

His gruff voice, drenched in lust, has you balling your nightgown. You sit up and pull your knees into your chest, squeezing your legs together. He must be insane, deranged, absolutely idiotic to think he can take up half your fucking bed and then whip out his monster of a cock and expect everything to be okay.

Pussy clenching around emptiness, you reply, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Prideful jerking.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then why’d you say it?”

His hips buckle up into his hands and you can’t help but stare down at his cock again. You swallow thickly, hating the way you crave for his cock to fill that vacant space in your throat.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

You answer too quickly. The desperate desire in your tone, the crack of your voice has not been lost on him. He chuckles to himself and picks up the pace. You can only hover your trembling fingers over your lips, clutch onto your nightgown with your other hand and watch him get himself off with pride.

His large hand wraps around yours, grabbing onto the hem of your nightgown as well. You stiffen. Gazing at him in the soft moonlight, you wonder if he’d make you take over the task of getting him off. You wonder if he’ll guide your hand over his cock and show you how to pace your pumps, or if he’ll have you cup his balls and massage them while he continues to bring himself closer to his orgasm.

But, he doesn’t entertain any of those options. Seokjin, instead, rubs your knuckles and whispers, “I don’t just like being watched; I like watching too.” He then pries the bunched up hem out of your hands and pushes it up to your hips. “Panties off.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” you hiss, breasts heaving from how horny this entire situation is making you. “I’m keeping them on.”

Seokjin raises a brow, as if offering one last chance for you to change your mind. When you simply hold his gaze, he nods and covers himself up again. You can tell he’s still going though, the lifts of the comforter being a dead give away.

“What are you doing?”

“This is a two way street, Little Doe,” he taunts before dragging his tongue across your cheek. You shudder and melt into his frame as he continues, “You’re going to have to give a little to get some.”

A series of insults are on the tip of your tongue, but the stripe of saliva on your cheek is all you can focus on. You want him to do it again, the shame of that craving clear on your face. Seokjin can read right through the glare you then attempt to wear. He grunts quietly as that amused look colours his features.

You can still hear the wet clicks of his pumps, the squeak of the springs when he rolls his hips in his hand. Gulping, you emptily gag on the ghostly imagination of his huge length squeezing into your throat.

He chuckles under his breath. The sound is all too cocky for your liking, jumpstarting your senses once more.

“You’re a fucking prick,” you finally hiss.

“I know you want my dick.”

“You know that’s not what I said.”

Seokjin raises a brow. “You didn’t deny it though, did you?”

You want to curse him, hit him, suck him, screw him- no… A little ride wouldn’t hurt, though. A string of sparkling shivers slither up your spine at the thought of sitting on his cock. Nails in those broad shoulders, tits against his chest, ass smacking his thick thighs.

He smirks. He’s waiting.

Nothing can hold back the pooling wetness of your core, and you refuse to deny it for much longer. Hooking your thumbs into your panties, you lift your hips and shimmy out of them. You’re about to toss them aside when Seokjin nudges your chin. He nods towards your mouth, silently ordering you to shove them in.

“You can’t be serious,” you sigh, voice almost pleading. It’s not enough he’s having you follow orders, but to make you suck on your own soaked panties is just cruel.

He only shrugs. You’re not even worth his words now. The humiliation is getting harder to ignore, your pussy gushing for it with every passing second. With a tiny huff, you shove your panties into your mouth. You taste dirty. You feel it too. But, he finally pulls the sheets back once more, letting you know you’ve earned the treat. A twinge of pride replaces the embarrassment.

Pink tipped, oozing precum, his massive cock slightly curves. You can’t help the satisfied sigh that escapes you. Fingers latching on your pussy, you swirl your wetness around your clit. You’re about to shove two fingers in, eyes locked on his length to catch his warning glare, but he stops you.

“Don’t you dare,” he hisses.

You furrow your brows as if wordlessly asking how the fuck he thinks you can watch him and not be able to finger yourself. You need something in you. He ignores your stares, the little grunts you let out in protest and shifts your fingers back up to your clit.

The curses you want to hurl at him get muffled into your panties. He knows this too well, that smirk on his lips only widening. And though you believe you can do whatever the fuck you want, you keep your fingers around your clit. You’ll take any amount of friction at this point.

“Oh, you can spit that out now,” he shrugs.

You pause. Wasn’t the point of the panties in your mouth to make sure you’re quiet? Seokjin ignores your confused looks, leaning his head back against the headboard. As you drop your panites out of your mouth, his true intentions finally settle upon you. It was never about silencing you, but about humiliating you. Every word he’s uttered since whipping his massive cock out has been an order, all of which you’ve eventually followed.

You glare at him, finally meeting his eye as he lazily looks over at you. “Is everything a game to you?”

Seokjin dips his head into the crook of your neck. You tilt your head up without much thought. His teeth graze your skin, warm tongue soon following to soothe those little bites he leaves behind. You whimper and shudder with every hot breath he fans over you.

How is he doing this so easily? Your fingers pick up their pace with every new jolt of pleasure his mouth brings.

“Slow down,” he whispers while trailing wet kisses along your jawline.

Your mind wants to rebel and rub your clit with twice as much speed and force. However, your body yields to his commands, complying to his every order. You huff angrily, finding yourself defenseless against him. As a weak act of defiance, you rest your leg over his.

He grins. His free hand rubs your inner thigh, making you regret your actions instantly. With every stroke up and down your leg, your pussy only gets wetter, needier for his hand. Your eyes flutter shut, body trembles as you begrudgingly submit your entire being to him.

“Touch me,” you plead.

Seokjin tightens his hold on your thigh. “And what do you call this, Little Doe?”

You whine, forcing your eyes open to meet his gaze. Noses brushing, breaths exchanging, your lips hover over one another. You force your hand off your clit and bite back a mewl from the lost contact. “Touch me,” you repeat, voice only just cracking.

For once, his amused demeanour is nowhere to be found. Seokjin creases all movements. He pauses for a second, scanning your features, then drops his gaze between your legs. In deep thought, he bites his lip. You can’t help the cold vacancy around your pussy, hips slightly rolling up for attention. Seokjin takes your wrist and guides your wet hand to his cock. “Slowly,” he advises.

Fingers hovering over his huge length, you nod. A squeal escapes you as you stroke him. Just from those gentle touches, you can feel how heavy he is. Hand trembling, you wrap your fingers around him and slowly pump.

He sighs against your cheek. You hate how proud you feel, but the kisses he places near your lips distract you enough to melt into him.

“Who knew you were such a good girl?”

“Shut up,” you snap, though your pace on his cock remains steady.

Seokjin trails his fingers up your thigh, to your wetness. You moan upon feeling his fingers circle around your clit. “You’re even wetter than you look,” he whispers.

“I said, shut up.”

A sharp slap to your clit draws a yelp out of you. Though you glare at him, tightening your grip on his cock, he only continues with the smacks. Each one is harder than the last, forcing you to pull your legs to your chest once more.

He chuckles, nudging his nose against yours. “Be a good girl, Little Doe, and spread’em.”

You pout and nudge back. Seokjin presses his lips together, holding back whatever laughter you’ve provoked, then pushes his mouth against yours. The fact that you don’t hesitate to kiss him back surprises you. Up until now, all you thought you wanted was a quick fuck. Now, you can’t imagine how you’ve resisted the urge to kiss him for so long. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, taking control almost immediately. You want to say you’re annoyed but you love the way it feels around yours too much to fight against him any longer.

Slowly, you spread your legs once more. He lands one last smack on your clit then soothes the blissful stinging away by circling his fingers around your pussy again. He’s moving his hand faster than yours, making you moan against his lips.

Seokjin pulls away with a smirk as your moans suddenly tumble into the room instead of his mouth. He laughs while you glare. “Aw, come on, Little Doe,” he purrs. “Aren’t you having fun?”

You pout, biting back moans, and pick up the pace of your pumps around his cock. If he wants to play, you have no problem doing the same thing. His hips buckle into your hand. You’re smirking now... until his hand moves faster. You follow his lead, picking up your pace as he picks up his.

Lowly growling, Seokjin clenches his jaw. “Fucking slut,” he grunts.

“Fucking prick,” you shoot back. However, your insult loses umph with every whining dip in your voice.

That amused look in his eyes is no more. His gaze hardens into something more sinister as he seethes, “Cum.”

You gasp as your hips roll into his hand. “You cum,” you huff.

“Cum!”

“Cum…” Your voice may be losing its strength and authority, but the look in your eyes remains as cold as ever.

Seokjin grins. He must feel your hole clenching, must sense how you’ve been tightening around emptiness, needy for a release. Does he know how horny that rasp in his authoritative voice makes you too? Does he know you’ll most likely be dreaming about him tonight from how his scent has imprinted itself on you?

“You’re pathetic.”

You really fucking are. How quickly did you give into him again? Are you needy to cum or needy for him? Your eyes slightly roll back as your toes curl. You’re getting closer; he’s bringing you closer. Can you really be to blame for yielding so quickly, though? He disarms your confidence within a few words. It feels like you were only cussing him out seconds ago for ordering you to take your panties off. And yet, here you are, on the cusp of cumming because he told you to.

Body quaking, you throw your head back and bite on your lip to keep from screaming his name. Your ograsm hits you hard and quick. Riling beside him, you’ve lost control of your hand around his cock. Your pumps hesitate, losing momentum and speed. Seokjin finds himself having to warp his free hand around yours to make sure he gets off as well.

Your ears are ringing, blood rushing to your head as you gush some more around emptiness. You pretend you’re stuffed though. You imagine his cock deep in, the imprint of his girth bulging from your stomach as you cum. You’re angry with him, with yourself, with how good all this feels. In the midst of uttering a curse, you feel a warm, thick shot of his cum land across your face. Another load paints your breasts and stains your nightgown.

Seokjin’s panting, grunting, trying his best to stay quiet as well. Your hands retract from each other within seconds of riding the other out. You shudder from the last leaks of your orgasm and pull your legs into yourself. All the while, he’s resting his head back and palming himself. As his eyes flutter shut, you can’t help but stare. He looks just as heavenly post-orgasm. A light layer of sweat glistens on his forehead, wet lips seeming kissable one more.

His breathing regulates as he looks over at you. Nothing can fight off your frustration at the sight of that lazy smirk on his face. He points up to his own nose and says, “You got a little somethin- Ow!”

You grunt a smirk after swatting his arm. “Clean it off,” you order between breaths. “Now.”

He raises a brow. “You wanted it so bad. You clean it off.”

“That’s not what I said I wanted.”

Seokjin licks his lips to fight off a smile. “Did you or did you not tell me to cum?”

“By that stupid logic, you have a mess down there you need to clean too.”

To your surprise, he nods. Seokjin shifts, repositioning himself so that he’s in front of you. His strong hands wrap around your ankles and pull them apart before yanking you towards him.

You gasp and fall back into your pillow, looking up at him in astonishment. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Cleaning up my mess,” he shrugs. As he dips his head between your legs, he says with a wink, “I suggest you do the same.”

There’s barely enough time to breath, let alone clean his cum off you, before his tongue latches onto your pussy. He slurps up your cum with vigor, shaking his head between your thighs. Lapping up your juices, sucking on your clit, he seems to change his intention from cleaning up his mess to creating a new one.

Your fingers tangle into his blonde hair, tugging on the long strands as he peeks up at you. Upon finding you’ve done nothing but relish in the sensation of his warm tongue, Seokjin pulls his mouth away from your pussy. You lift your hips up, whining and mewling quietly in hopes that he’d find you just cute enough to continue.

Seokjin pokes his tongue between the gaps of his teeth. In silence, he waits. You know what he wants, but you can’t find it in you to follow another order. He’s somehow managed to melt you into agreeing to every command. You’d rather suck him off than scoop his cum off your face and swallow it.

“Do it.”

“No.”

He huffs. His entire chest puffs out, shoulders rolling back as he leers over you. That usually glint of amusement dissolves into annoyance. “Do it,” he whispers. Though his voice may be quiet, tone soft, his eyes are unforgiving. It’s clear this is your last chance.

You don’t care. “No.”

He’s hovering over you. All you did was blink and he’s hovering over you. Hot, short breaths fan over your face. His tip pokes your lower belly. You’re trembling. His tongue shoots out, swiping across your face. One of his hands shoots to your chin, thumb pushing it down to open your mouth. He gathers some spit with his cum then drops the load into your mouth.

Your right eye twitches, only just rolling back from the taste. You swallow almost immediately and force yourself to ignore the recoiling disappointment of your heart at how easily you give in even after putting up a sad excuse of a fight.

Seokjin repeats the process, licking up the cum across your cleavage now. He pulls down the neckline of your nightgown to make sure he gets every drop. Again, he spits it into your mouth. And, again, you swallow.

You think it’s over now. He has licked up every drop of cum off your skin, after all. But, Seokjin isn’t satisfied until you’ve swallowed it all. He cups your breasts, pushing them up to tighten your gown and licks the cum off it easier. You swallow without hesitation when he spits it into your mouth.

Both his hands come down on your breasts. You jolt, biting your lip to keep from crying out a moan. “Next time,” he starts, groping and massaging your tits. “I won’t be so leintant.”

With your hands over your head, you quietly moan, reveling in the sweet action. You nod to his pathetic warning, knowing that in the end you’ll do whatever the fuck you want. Yet, you can’t find the courage to tell him that.

Seokjin ceases all soft massages and tears your gown. You gasp and grip onto his wrists while looking down at your now exposed breasts.

“What the hell?” You whine in a whisper.

He only smirks before returning to his side of the bed again. Making himself comfortable, he replies, “Sleep well, Little Doe.”

You scoff. He must think you won’t take the gown off, even if it were torn. You can’t fall asleep now knowing he has the upper hand. Sitting up, you pull the night gown off and toss it aside. Seokjin, having one arm tucked under his head, watches you with an amused smile. His eyes devour every exposed inch of you. As you lie back down, you realize you’ve played right into his trap once more. He wanted you just as naked as him.

“You make it too easy,” he chuckles.

“You really are a prick.”

He quirks a brow. “Funny. I don’t see you putting it back on if I’m such a prick.”

You don’t want it on. He knows that. You sure as hell know that. But admitting it would only make that festering anger in the pit of your stomach bubble into your chest. “Just go to sleep, Jin,” you mutter, turning away from him.

You want to believe that your bed has never felt more uneven, uncomfortable, unwelcoming, but you know that’s not the case. You’ve never felt warmer than with Seokjin beside you. His body by yours has been a better comfort than the emptiness you usually find back there. Does he feel it too? Is that why he was adamant on you watching him, joining him, swallowing him? Or was it all just another power play?

He shifts behind you. You stiffen, chewing on your lip. His hand, hesitant and shaky, snakes across your waist. It freezes against your stomach. You gulp and flutter your eyes shut as you rest your arm over his. It’s as though that’s all the confirmation he needs to pull you back into his chest. Steady breaths tickling the nape of your neck, you allow yourself to lean into him.

You tell yourself it’s the exhaustion. But the truth lies behind you, cradling your body against his. Lacing your fingers between his, you whisper, “This never happened.”

Seokjin presses a ghost of a kiss upon the nape of your neck. “Whatever you say, Little Doe.”

The clucks of the hens and spray of the tap cannot drown out his infuriating laughter. He sounds like a choked seal, squealing chuckles uncontrollably. It’s embarrassing. He should be kicked out on that basis alone.

You watch him chat up Mama and one of your aunties by the kitchen island. He makes another one of those stupid puns and they eat it up. Mama throws her head back, laughing along with him. Auntie Hyel chuckles and shakes her head before joining the rest of your family, your four uncles and Baba, outside. It’s as if this dismissal from Hogwarts was not at all his fault. Mama treats him like the son she never had. Laughing at his jokes, feeding him leftover egg and beef from her kimbap rolls; it’s disgraceful. They should both be ashamed of themselves. Everyone living in this house who has even given into his charms should be ashamed of themselves.

You shudder at last night’s memories, knowing you’re one of those people in this house now.

“Morning, dear,” Mama smiles upon finally spotting you on the staircase.

Seokjin turns to face you, that prideful smirk plastered on his all too handsome face. Yes, you realize the cruel oddities of reality. Someone as horrible as Seokjin gets graced with undeniable beauty and you, with your kind heart and good intentions, are offered mediocrity.

He leans his elbows back on the counter. “Little Doe.”

The nickname hits differently now. Phantom shivers trail your spine upon hearing echos from last night. He purred that name one too many times to sit the same again. It used to twist your insides with disgust. But now all you can feel are nervous bursts of desire, and a yearning for his touch and presence like no other.

“Shut it, you gerbil,” you hiss as you make the final step down the stairs.

Your eyes lock on his lips, ghostly sensations of last night’s session all too fresh to ignore. Is it wrong to want them on yours again? Yes. He’s filthy, you remind yourself. Filthy with pride and an ego just as big as his dick. A huff escapes you as your hatred for him resurfaces. It takes everything in you not to shove him off his seat and take it instead. You know better than to do that in front of Mama. She’d smack the both of you with that wooden spoon by her side within seconds.

Mama tsks at your name-calling when you take your seat. You meet her warning stare with caution. As you mutter a half-hearted apology, she sets a fresh cup of tea before you. Much like this morning, you drink the tea in small sips.

“Thanks, Mama,” you mumble against the rim of the cup.

Seokjin stares at you and smiles, “Yeah, Mama, thanks.”

You clench your jaw, keeping your eyes trained on the bento lunch boxes Mama prepares for your last amity meeting with Seokjin and Professor Trelawney. Since the two of you have met with your professor, you’ve broken every rule set by her. Insults are hurled consistently, taunts are made, threats are promised. The only thing the two of you haven’t done is prank each other. It’s too risky and the both of you can’t tolerate another second cut off from your friends.

“Do you two think you can keep the teasing to a minimum today?” Mama asks as she wraps each box. “The headmistress is dropping by after lunch to tell you if you’ll be returning to Hogwarts.”

You furrow your brows as you set the teacup down. Seokjin turns to face Mama with the same expression. “What do you mean? I thought that after the amity sessions, we’d be able to go back.”

Mama avoids your gaze as she tucks a set of chopsticks under the wrapped knot. “Well, the amity sessions are not the only thing the headmistress has been looking into, (Y/N). You still have that fire to answer for.”

“This again,” you roll your eyes. Mama glares at you. “Sorry, it’s just you know I didn’t start it. Even Jin knows I didn’t.”

Seokjin remains silent, looking down at his cup of coffee. Mama looks between you and him then raises a brow. “I think poor Jin’s been through enough,” she coos at him before rubbing his shoulder.

This is unbelievable. You’ve never really talked to him about it, but you just knew that he couldn’t possibly think that little of you, especially after last night. You know what you said, what you indirectly made him promise, but your words can’t erase that memory. Or, at least, it hasn’t for you. And now Mama is coddling him from you. You’re apparently the monster in his life, the conniving serpent that has plagued him and set fire to his stupid dorm.

Up until now, you’ve regretted snooping around in his room for your letters, regretted even setting foot in his common room. You know you didn’t start that fire, but you’d be happy if you did. It’s the least he deserves for cutting you off from your family and now stealing them right from under you.

Tilting your head back, you chug whatever is left of your tea. It scorches your tongue, but nothing burns more than the betrayal in your heart. Hopping off your seat, you set the teacup in the sink to be washed by the sponges you’d charmed. Mama senses your shift in demeanour and follows you to the broom closet.

“He misses his family too, you know,” she says as you grab your broom. “Don’t you remember what it was like to not have your family with you?”

You shut the closet, not bothering to grab Seokjin’s broom for him, and turn to face Mama. “You mean when he stole my letters? He’s the one that should be investigated. You know I didn’t start-”

Mama places her hands on your shoulders, silencing you immediately. To your surprise, she pulls you into her chest and hugs you tightly. “Please, (Y/N),” she whispers.

You’re not sure what she’s asking of you but you nod anyways. To show her to really understand, the moment she pulls away from you, you open the closet once more and grab his broom as well. She smiles and places a sweet kiss upon your forehead.

Wrapping her arm around your shoulders, Mama guides you back into the kitchen. “You two take care now,” she smiles.

You hand Seokjin his broom. He doesn’t even have the decency to thank you. “You’re welcome,” you bitterly spit under your breath.

He ignores you.

Mama is halfway up the stairs when she calls out to the both of you to have a great day. You grab your lunch and backpack then make your way to the door. Mounting on your broom, you don’t bother to wait for him and commence your last flight to Witching Wits, a wizarding cafe in the small muggle town nearby.

Gusts of the wind and the scent of asphalt fills the space between you and Seokjin as you enter the little town. Your brooms are charmed to cloak you in with your environment so you’re invisible to a muggle’s eye. Seokjin doesn’t bother to race you to the roof of the cafe as he usually does. He hasn’t even so much as tossed you a look of any kind. You slow down just to give him a reason to speed up, but he doesn’t take the bait. And when you finally reach the rooftop, and dismount off your brooms, he doesn’t tap the edge of his broom on the green bricked chimney.

You raise a brow. A line of questioning already forms in your mind, but you decide against voicing it. You don’t care, and why should you? He was the only that brought you into this mess, made you dive into every impulse. This time you’re going to go against your desires and curiosity. Tapping rhythmically on the edge of the chimney, the bricks shift into stairs that descend into the cafe. You lead the way in, not bothering to look over your shoulder to make sure he’s behind you. You’ve had enough of him already. Besides, his footsteps are a clear sign that he’s following along just fine.

Professor Trelawney is late… again. She hasn’t been on time since these sessions began. You’ve never hated moments alone with Seokjin more than you did today. Wordlessly, you place your broom on the rack by the entrance and find an empty table in the corner.

The routine is simple enough and you hate to think you’ve grown comfortable with it. You sit across from each other. Notebooks out, quills in hand or laying by an empty page, and Marina, the morning shift’s waitress, jumping back and forth from the counter to your table because she can’t seem to remember that neither of you have ordered anything.

“Actually,” Seokjin cuts in when you decline to see a menu. “I’ll have a butterbeer with a shot of espresso.”

Face scrunched in disgust, you push past his revolting order and say, “But you already had coffee at home.”

Home. Is it his home? He blinks at the word, furrowing his brows at you. He sure has made it into his home; charming your family, taking your bed, eating your food.

“I want another,” he shrugs once that disarmed look in his eye disappears. “How about we pretend I never had one to begin with. Would that make you feel better?”

Fear flushes whatever expression previously took over your features. You arch a brow and ask, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Seokjin shrugs. He sits back and twirls his quill between his fingers, watching you carefully.

You cross your legs, draping the short, flowy shirt of your white dress over your thigh. “It must’ve meant something, or you wouldn’t have said it.”

“Does that same logic apply to actions?”

You know exactly what he’s referring to now. Pursing your lips, you bite back any insults that are begging to be thrown at him. Instead of giving into the subject he’s adamant on discussing, you bring up one he’s been avoiding since your arrival. “What was the point in stealing my letters?”

“I could ask you the same question about the fire.”

You huff. Why must he be this difficult? “You know I didn’t start it.”

His shoulders rise and fall again. Those shrugs are starting to really test your patience. On the cusp of tossing Mama’s advice out the window, Professor Trelawney's clunky footsteps echo down the brick staircase. Before she can make her way to your table, you lean in and whisper, “I hate you, I really do, but I’d never put you in that sort of danger, Jin. I’m not deranged.” With how much time you’ve spent thinking about his lips this morning, you might rethink that last claim, but you stay firm on your words.

Seokjin tilts his head and quirks a brow at your last statement. You throw him a blank stare as Professor Trelawney makes her way towards your table.

“I know,” he whispers.

He knows. He knows and you’re still under investigation. Has he told McGonagall this? If he vouches for you then you can’t possibly lose your place at Hogwarts. You don’t have much time to ask him, however, as Professor Trelawney drops her heavy bag on the table.

“Ah, Morning!” she smiles. Her eyes widen with delight behind those thick rimmed glasses. You hesitantly smile back, sneaking a glance at Seokjin.

He replies with a quiet, “Good morning, Professor,” before meeting your gaze again. The usual cocky remark, arrogant approach, and amused looks are absent from his, dare you think, kind face. He seems so genuine in his stare that you almost regret asking him to forget about last night. You clearly haven’t.

Marina returns with Seokjin’s order as Professor Trelawney takes a seat and pulls out her calming crystals. “Oh, is that a butterbeer with an espresso shot?” She asks with curious eyes. Before Marina can confirm, Professor Trelawney says, “I’ll have one too.”

Seokjin throws you a cocky smirk. A silent “I told you so,” dances in his gaze. You roll your eyes and sit back in your seat.

As Professor Trelawney continues to line up the crystals, she suggests starting these sessions as you always have. “Deep breath in then out and let the other know something you admire about them.”

You share an annoyed look with Seokjin, sighing deeply when he refuses to start... again. He always pulls the quiet card, knowing you’ll be the first to lose your patience and say something that gets mistaken as an effort to get the ball rolling.

“Very good, Miss (L/N),” your professor smiles. “But this time add something you like about Mr. Kim.”

You don’t bother correcting her. Instead, you sit up straight and take a deep breath in. On the exhale you say, “I really admire the way you always test my patience.”

Seokjin glares. He inhales deeply then lets out, “I really admire the way you never let things go.”

Marina returns with Professor Trelawney’s order and they share a concerned look as you carry on with the exercise, saying, “I really admire how stupid you are.”

“I admire how annoying you are.”

“I admire your laziness.”

“I admire your cruelty.”

You furrow your brow, ball your fist and bite back the curses threatening to slip out. Cruelty? Didn’t he just say that he believed you’d never actively put him in any danger? Was he just saying anything to try and get you to bend to his every command again? Lips trembling, you reply, “I admire your dishonesty.”

Professor Trelawney takes a sip from her butterbeer, upper lip coated with foam, then lets out a shaky breath. “Well, that was a good start,” she tries her best to smile, setting her cup down. “Given that it’s our last day, let’s try doing this exercise right just once, hmm?”

Mama’s words trickle back to you. You want to make her proud, to continue your studies at Hogwarts, but he’s just so frustrating. And a part of you knows that even if you make an effort to show Professor Trelawney how you’ve progressed these last few days, it wouldn’t change a thing. The results of your investigation are still pending, no thanks to Seokjin.

“Now, let’s try using positives. Mr. Kim, why don’t you start us off this time?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you resist the urge to scoff. He’s been silent since the beginning for a reason. If you give into insults first, he has the excuse of defending himself when he shoots one back. And though you know this every well, it only makes you want to swear at him even more.

Seokjin huffs, twirling his quill between his fingers. Breathing in deep, he says, “I admire your determination.”

Lies.

Swallowing your curses, you reply, “I admire your resilience.”

Seokjin pauses. He tilts his head at you, eyes narrowing. Scanning your features, he seems to be searching for signs of deceit. Expressionless, you stare back. He must’ve interpreted your lack of emotion for sincerity as his gaze softens. Sitting up, he licks his lips to hide a little smile. “I admire your passion.”

When has he ever seen you so passionate? This really is a joke to him; you’re a joke to him. You open your mouth to call him out for his lies when the strangest look surfaces on his face. You’re not certain what it is, but you can tell that it lacks defense and hostility. He’s radiating warmth. Lips in a… kind smile, he awaits your reply. Could he… Could he really be serious?

“I admire your ability to charm a room.”

Perhaps he heard something too raw in your voice, his brows momentarily shooting up. Have you been too honest?

“I admire your honesty.”

You have been too honest. Now, you’ve never been more confused. Does he or does he not believe you? You only wish you can ask.

Professor Trelawney giggles into her half empty cup. “Well done,” she smiles, more foam coating her upper lip. Neither you nor Seokjin make an effort to let her know, sharing a knowing smile. The professor doesn’t think too much of it, though. She simply assumes her efforts are finally sinking in.

“Let’s pick up where we left off yesterday.”

You flip back to yesterday's page. The last two weeks have been a series of attempting to compliment each other and recording all the pranks the two of you have pulled during this school year alone. Only two more pages, out of twenty-five, remain. Each of you must state the prank, explain why you did it and why you regret doing it. You have yet to receive an apology for all the crap he’s done to you… you also have yet to issue one yourself.

“We last stopped with you, Mr. Kim. What’s the next prank on your list?”

Seokjin chews on his lip. “Blonde hair,” he mutters, playfully glaring your way.

Professor Trelawney leans forward. She inspects his hair, asking, “That’s not natural?”

No. What seems to be natural, however, is how good any colour of hair seems to look on him. You had intentionally intended to dye his hair pink. But, when you “accidently” spilled a bit of potion all over his head, he only looked better. The colour didn’t even clash with his red uniform. So, you quickly threw some mint leaves in and spilled some more over his head. Teal looked better than the pink. As a last ditch effort, while Professor Slughorn made his way to you, you tossed some butterscotch strings in and poured it all over his head again. The blonde stuck, striking beauty from every angle.

“That was not supposed to happen,” you confess with a smile playing on your lips.

“You poured that disgusting potion on me three times. I think you knew exactly what you were doing.”

Well, at least something good came from trying to dye his hair. He may have looked good but the potion sure as hell didn’t feel that way. “You mixed up my schedule. I was late for astronomy six times,” you explain as a means of an excuse.

“That’s because you charmed your necklace to hiss at every girl I tried to date.”

You shrug. “Someone needed to warn them how slimy you are.” Professor Trelawney clears her throat. “Were,” you correct. “How slimy you were.”

The professor rubs her temples. “No,” she sighs. “Don’t you have something to say to Mr. Kim?”

You’ll be damned if you apologize first. He’s the one that started all this; he should be the one apologizing. And, if you’re satisfied enough with his groveling, you might consider issuing an apology for your actions as well.

“For what it’s worth,” you start. Seokjin raises a brow. Professor Trelawney holds her breath. “My plan backfired. I only kept pouring the potion over you because you look great in every colour.”

An exhausted sigh escapes your professor. She tries to remain positive however, smiling and nodding as she moves the conversation along. “And what about this necklace charming ordeal?”

“What about it?”

“Why did you charm the snakes on your necklace to hiss at his girlfriends?”

You pause. Why did you do that? You remember that it was a week before the Yule ball. Mitch, a fellow Slytherin, was in the middle of asking you something. You don’t exactly remember the details of that conversation. However, you do remember watching Seokjin over Mitch’s shoulder. He was being all too enchanting, courting Rina, who is possibly the kindest Hufflepuff you’d ever met. You remember watching her swoon and watching him notice.

Your heart festers with a familiar rage. The charming spell comes to you in a hard wave once again, just as it did that day.

“He reordered my notes,” you lie.

“That was the excuse you used when you bought four hundred chocolate frogs in my name and released them into the Gryffindor common room,” Seokjin points out.

You avoid his narrowing gaze as both he and Professor Trelawney await the truth. Why did you do that? Why did you do that? The question circles around your head, excuses nowhere to be found. Nothing even really came of it. He ended up going to the ball with Rina anyways. And you went with Jimin since he’s your best friend and the only person you can tolerate being around for an entire night. Had you wanted Seokjin to take you instead? You internally cringe at the thought.

“I don’t know,” you finally answer.

Silence falls over the table. You can’t meet their eyes, fearing they may see something you’re trying to bury deep within you. Professor Trelawney curls her lips in. Furrowing her brows, she asks, “Well, do you regret your actions?”

“Yes.”

Perhaps it’s the lack of hesitance in your reply, or the firmness in your tone. Either way, Professor Trelawney believes you. She carries along with the session. You and Seokjin go back and forth for the next couple of hours, crossing out every prank you finish addressing.

Finally, your latest pranks remain.

“How about we start with how you found out Seokjin had your letters?”

You swallow thickly. This happens to be the choppiest part of your story, according to the headmistress. “Someone,” she had said. “Someone told you?”

“Someone told you?” Professor Trelawney echoes when you repeat yourself to her.

You nod.

“Who?” Seokjin immediately questions.

“Someone.”

“Mitch?”

How the fuck did he know that? Did Mitch tell anyone else? But if he made you promise not to say anything, then why would he go tell others? Setting your jaw, you repeat through gritted teeth, “Someone.”

“Jimin?”

“No!”

“So, Mitch then?”

How does he keep doing that? You furrow your brows, exhaling sharply from your nose. What’s got him thinking it was Mitch to begin with? Had he maybe overheard Mitch telling you about it in the great hall? But, if that was the case, why didn’t he put in a better effort in hiding them? He just left them unattended in the first drawer of his night table, opened and vulnerable to any other prying eyes.

Fear of someone else finding out about you and your family returns in sharp pains of your gut. You shift your crossed arms down to your stomach between shaky breaths. “Why are you certain it’s him?”

Seokjin smirks. “You had no problem denying that it was Jimin. Saying it’s not Mitch seems to be a struggle for you.”

It’s your fault for underestimating his intelligence. Yes, you constantly tell him he’s stupid, but you both know that’s not the case. And it’s the fact that you know how smart he is and that he knew better than to steal your personal property and invade your privacy only furthers your hatred towards him. Sighing, you reply, “It doesn’t matter who told me. What I would like to know is why you had to read them?”

All colour drains from his face. “I didn’t.”

You scoff, running your tongue between the gaps of your teeth. It’s vital that you keep your temper in check. You know that if you cause a scene now, you’d only look even guiltier. “Why were the letters opened then?”

“Look, I didn’t read them,” he huffs.

The atmosphere only darkens around your table, thickening with each trembling breath the two of you take. Professor Trelawney hisses at the sight of your auras and begins to flail her hands about, cleansing them from all that negative energy. You know things are starting to get out of control when an entire room of magical creatures look towards your table with concern and confusion.

Glancing at Seokjin, you can’t help but glare. Everything he’s done, everything he’s said before this point has contradicted itself. He says he believes you, but won’t vouch for you. He says he never read your letters, but opened them anyways. He says the right things before bed, looks the right way, touches you in the right places, but then can’t meet your gaze the next morning. In all fairness, you had told him to forget about last night in so many words. However, his withdrawal from certain conversations is not lost on you. And it is for this reason that you cannot stomach to look at him any longer.

“I need some air,” you suddenly mutter, cutting Professor Trelawney off. Lost so deep in thought, you hadn’t even realized that she was talking.

“Alrigh-”

The screech of your chair cuts her off once more. The sad look on her face fills your heart with guilt. You hesitantly rest a hand on her shoulder and mumble, “Thank you for cleansing my aura. I feel a bit better with all that negativity gone.”

Professor Trelawney smiles up at you. She holds onto your elbow and nods. “Of course, dear. You enjoy your lunch now.”

Forcing a smile, you pull your hand away from your professor. The intimacy is getting more and more uncomfortable. The most feeling you’ve put into anyone else was last night, and that’s not a fact you’re proud to admit.

In seconds, you’re abandoning all feelings and thoughts. You turn your ink lid close tight and toss it into your bag with all your other things. In your peripherals, you can see Seokjin rushing to do the same. If he thinks he’s going to ruin your only moment alone with excuses, he’s sadly mistaken. Grabbing your lunch, you make your way to the broom rack and take the first familiar broom you see. Up the green brick steps you go, and under the wind you fly away from Witching Wits cafe; away from Kim Seokjin.

The flight to Doe’s Peak is long, but worth the time. You land atop the highest hill, amongst the tallest grass. You’ve tossed glances behind you all throughout the flight, making sure Seokjin wasn’t following you. Now that you’ve made it though, alone with only the wind’s mocking melodies for company, you partly wish he had followed you.

Dismounting off your broom, you let it fall by your feet. You’ve snuck away to this hilltop since the first amity session. You needed a breather then too after a heated argument about whether or not you taught Professor Flitwick’s frogs to follow Seokjin around and sing ominous notes every time he entered a room. You did, but no one needed to know that. You let your words get the best of you then too.

Pulling out a white, red striped sheet from your bag, you shake it out and lay it on the floor. After one too many trips here, you’ve learned to come prepared. Actually, before these amity sessions, you haven’t flown up here in awhile. You used to always run away to this hilltop since it had the best view of the entire muggle town on one side and the country roads on the other.

A large forest separates the peak from the countryside. As you sit yourself down on the thin blanket and unwrap your lunch, you remember tricking both the country and townspeople that a beast lurked these parts. It was before you realized you had magic. You came on a hiking trip with your family and fell in love with the scenery. You wanted to keep it all to yourself, so you attempted to roar into the forest. You were only seven; how were you supposed to know that you’d sound more like a bear than you intended to? By some twist of fate or another, you got what you wanted: an eyeful of scenery for your viewing only.

You face the town now, watching the muggles bustle around in the distance. With a mouthful of kimbap, you pull your portable green radio out of your bag and flick it to life. A reply of the last quidditch game sounds. Slytherin against Gryffindor. Hearing the game all over again, you can’t help but sigh. You should’ve been there, batting bludgers towards Seokjin. He’s a seeker, but that’s never stopped you from swinging your bat towards him before.

“Slytherin scores again! Gryffindor’s only chance to win now lies with the golden snit-”

You switch the radio off with a wave of your hand. Another second of this rerun and you might just chuck the radio down the hill.

The wooden sign at the edge of the hilltop creaks from the forces of the wind. Shoving the last piece of kimbap into your mouth, you glance up at it. The hill was named Theodore’s Peak, but the other letters had fallen off long before you were born. Now, despite the discolored outline of the previous letters, the sign reads Doe’s Peak.

It’s a bit ironic, you think as you scarf down the last little bits of egg in your lunch box. The hill belongs to you and your patronus is a doe. Now, if only Seokjin could let that go.

Ah, Seokjin. Why can’t you go a single moment without his name on the tip of your tongue? Is he really that infuriating, that intoxicating that he needs to be entrenched in your every thought? Full of anger and frustration, you look back out at the town and inhale deeply. On the exhale, you scream at the top of your lungs. Screwing your eyes shut tight, you let every drop of rage out in a long scream.

When you’re done, you shut your bento box, wrap it up tight and push it aside. You, then, mentally vow to go the rest of this lunch not thinking about Kim Seokjin while reaching into your bag to search for your peach. If this is to be your last few moments as a witch, the results of your investigation still pending, then you’ll spend them admiring your favourite place, alon-

A snap of a branch chills your blood. No one dares hike through the woods. You slowly turn your head down to the forest. Squinting, you notice a figure trying, and failing, to hide behind a tree trunk. Clenching your jaw, you attempt to swallow your anger. But then he laughs.

“Get lost, gerbil face!” You shout.

“What?”

“GET LOST!”

“COME UP?”

He’s doing this on purpose. Before you can yell curses, he flies up to where you are, dismounting by your broom. You roll your eyes, finally grabbing hold of your peach in your bag and pulling it out. Your bag tips over, but you pay it no mind. You’re all too consumed by Seokjin and his returning cocky smirk.

“Get lost,” you repeat before taking a big bite out of your fruit. You don’t bother to spare a glance up at him.

Seokjin takes this as an invitation to sit. His eyes flicker from your bag to you. “You took my broom.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “So, you hid down there and watched me eat?” You ask around your food.

“I’m not some creep.”

“You did follow me up here.”

He lets out a flustered sigh, looking out into the town. “I heard you yelling. Forgive me for wanting to make sure you were okay.” Tone drenched in sarcasm, he avoids your confused gaze.

You open your mouth to call bullshit, but pause. Though you’d hate to admit it, that does sound like something he’d do. He’s a douchebag, but an honourable one. No matter how much he hates you, he’d never let you face a dangerous situation alone. Or, at least, you hope he wouldn’t. So, instead of insulting him or calling him a liar, you take another bite of your peach.

“You come up here a lot?” He asks.

You ignore him.

He hums quietly. Then, reaches his hand back. “Is this why?”

Mid eye roll, mid chew, you freeze. He holds your dark green dildo in his hand, examining it in the bright afternoon sun like it’s some rock he found laying around. You know it’s big, having selected it on it’s size alone, but it looks small in his hand. You drop your peach, choke on the bites you try to swallow and lunge to grab that toy out of his hand. The only reason you’ve kept it in your bag was to keep it out of his sight.

Seokjin laughs as he holds it high out of your reach. You scamper around over his lap like a little dog in desperate need for a treat. “Down, girl,” he teases with a smirk.

Your arousal instantly pools between your legs at the reference. Though riddled with humiliation, you can’t fight the angry desire coursing through your veins. One of your peach juice stained hands suddenly wraps around his neck. You gently squeeze, ignoring the shudder of pleasure that runs down your spine at the gulp of his adam’s apple.

Eyes locking, he raises a brow. Is that a challenge? Does he not think you can squeeze any harder? Despite being fueled by rage, you only just tighten your grip around his neck.

He scoffs.

You add your other hand, threatening, “I’ll do it.”

He smirks. “I dare you.”

Without much hesitance, your grip tightens. Seokjin moans. A gasp escapes you, turning his pleased groans into laughter. He just needs one hand to push both yours off him. Then your throat is caught in his grasp. He squeezes without warning, smirking down at you as he whispers, “That’s how you choke a brat.”

Chest heaving, straggled moans pour out of you. Seokjin must’ve thought the buttoned dress was too constricting around your breasts. He raises his brows as he looks down at your cleavage and grazes the buttons. You take this as a silent request to continue. Against your better judgement and the anger that wants to tear him apart, you nod.

He wastes no time on anymore reassurances. Button after button is unclasped. Your bra becomes more and more exposed. His grip tightens as the sleeves fall off your shoulder. He reaches behind you, hovering his lips over yours, and loosens your bra. Exchanging his breath for yours, he purrs, “Take it off.”

“You want it off so bad; you take it off.”

Echoing his words from last night, with your own variation of course, is possibly the deadliest thing you could do. Seokjin pulls your bra down, the straps falling off your shoulder too, and slaps one of your breasts.

You hiss, glaring at him. He takes the look as another challenge, smacking your other breast much harder than the last.

“Jin!”

His gaze lacks remorse. With another couple of slaps on each breast, he seethes, “Take the bra off.”

You huff through your nose. He tightens his grip. There’s only so much of this you can resist. Licking your lips, you push the sleeves of your dress off to finally remove your bra. Though your top half is exposed, the cool, late spring breeze hardening your nipples, your bottom half is still concealed under the skirt of your dress.

Seokjin releases your throat with a shove. You fall back on your elbows with a squeal. There hasn’t been a moment, a word hissed, a breath exchanged that you haven’t glared at him for. Sitting up, you have every intention of shoving him back. However, the moment you push yourself up, your lips find his. You want to say that you fought as hard as he did to be the one to have the upper hand, but you know you can’t. Not even a half-hearted effort was put into being the one to leer over the other. You surrendered within seconds, laying back down on the sheet as his frame hovered over yours.

He breaks the kiss and stretches his head back. You follow the silent command, instantly latching your wet lips onto his soft skin. You kiss, suck, lick at the sensitive flesh of his neck as he trails a hand down to your pussy. A little chuckle escapes him when he finds that you’re pantiless.

“Were you hoping I’d find you?” he asks. You bite down on his collarbone, earning yourself a smack on you pussy. “No panties and a fucking toy,” he whispers. “If you wanted me this badly, you should’ve just said so.”

Why does he have to waste such precious time running his mouth? You’re both needy for a fuck. Why won’t he just let that be it? There doesn’t have to be some sort of secret meaning hidden within every kiss received or touch offered.

Pulling your face out of the crook of his neck, you part your lips to tell him to just shut up and fuck you, when he adds, “That’s why you scared Rina away, right? And the others too?”

You flinch upon hearing her name.

Seokjin smirks. He cups your pussy and hums a quiet moan at the wet heat it radiates. “I really didn’t think you were the jealous type.”

You’re so ashamed, you can’t even meet his gaze to glare at him. Burying your face back into the crook of his neck, your clutch onto his broad shoulders and seethe, “Shut up.”

He pets your clit one stroke at a time. Eyes rolling back, you lean into his frame and hold on tight. You know he’s being gentle now, but if you learned anything from last night, it’s that Seokjin’s mood changes with the wind. His free hand wraps around you, further pressing your body into his. Only when your bare breasts are smushed against his covered chest do you realize that he’s still fully clothed. He’s never looked better in a white shirt and some jeans but you’d just wish he’d stop with all these games and strip enough to fuck you already.

Cupping your pussy again, he asks, “Do you want my cock, Little Doe?” You roll your hips into his hand and eagerly nod. Seokjin tightens his hold on your heat, drawing a little grunt out of you. “Then, answer the question, you dirty slut.”

“Yes, I want you,” you sigh, answering the second question. Though you know that’s not what he wanted you to reply to, you hope your lack of hesitance to confess other truths would be enough to end this line of questioning all together.

It’s not.

That hand he has on the small of your back, cradling you close to his frame, shoots up to your hair. He tugs on it, pulling your face out from the crook of his neck. You cry out in surprise. Shame rises from your gut at the realization that you love this rough act more than you should. Craning your neck more than necessary, he whispers against your lips, “Just be a good fucking girl for once, you pathetic brat, and tell me the truth.”

Closing your eyes, you let out a shaky breath. You might have to admit your most shameful secret, but you refuse to look him in the eye while doing it. “Fine,” you huff. Voice trembling, you admit, “I was jealous.”

Seokjin places a soft kiss on your chin, a stark contrast to the rough grip he has on both your pussy and hair. “Good,” he mutters against your jawline. “Now, look me in the eye and say it again.”

A new rush of arousal pools into his hand. You feel him smirk against your skin. He knows all too well about your infatuation to be humiliated not to draw out every second of it.

You slowly open your eyes to meet his amused ones. “I was jealous,” you repeat with a shudder. The words sound even more pathetic the second time around. The little cracks in your voice don’t soothe the sting of that fact. “I hate you.”

Seokjin smiles. “Don’t ruin all your progress now, Little Doe. You were doing so well.”

“Fuckin-”

He shuts you up with a kiss. You don’t even have the strength within you to not give into him. What more do you have to stand for? Your pride? He’s clearly trampled all over it. Your hatred? You’re slowly starting to question the legitimacy of that feeling because kissing him has made you feel refreshed with giddy desire. And feeling him has ignited every nerve on fire. It feels similar to hate, you know it does. It twists your guts and crushes your heart. It weighs down on your chest and shatters any belief in any other possibility but him. When he kisses you, when he holds you, when he plays with you like this, all you can believe in is him.

The harsh grip on your scalp softens and softens until it’s no more. His hand releases your hair and trails around to your chin. He holds you by your jaw as he lays you down on the sheet. After another soft kiss, he removes his hand from your pussy and reaches for that long, smooth curved dildo instead. Much to his amusement, a little giggle escapes you. Your defenses have fallen sometime between the first use of slut and that second kiss. You should be ashamed by the fact that you’re visibly eager to be ruined by him but you aren’t. In fact, you relish in the fact that you’re excited for him to see you so vulnerable, so submissive. And he seems to enjoy that too.

Seokjin leers over you with a little smile. He pulls your jaw open and shoves the toy into your mouth. You hold his gaze while swirling your tongue around the heavy object. He pushes your hair back, admiring the way you gag every time he shoves the toy further into your mouth without warning. Tears only just prick your eyes when he finally pulls it out

“Was that too much?”

You shake your head.

He nods and moves the toy down. You spread your legs wider in anticipation. The two of you watch as he runs the side of the dildo between your folds before pushing it in.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you rest your head back down on the ground. Your pussy’s already clenching around it. His other hand wanders around your torso, slapping and groping your breasts. With your arms up over your head, you roll your hips up into his hand, desperate to make him move the dildo or, at the very least, turn it on.

“You want me to move it?”

“Yes.”

He smirks. “Suck my dick.”

Your eyes widen, glancing between him and his crotch. “The whole thing?” The moment the question leaves your lips, you internally cringe. The whole thing, you mockingly think. Why the fuck would he want half his dick sucked?

Seokjin chuckles. “If you think you can take it, yeah.” He nods down to his belt and says, “The whole thing.”

You gulp. Though the task is daunting, you can’t ignore how empty your throat feels. Chewing on your lip, you undo his pants and push it down to his knees with his underwear as well. His huge cock springs out, smacking you in the face.

“Ah~,” you gasp.

He only chuckles, positioning the tip in your already open mouth. Maybe he’s getting impatient, or maybe he just likes the fact that the moment his dick seems to appear, your jaw drops. Either way, you start sucking on his tip, swallowing his precum, and he watches you, a pleased smirk plastered on his face.

Propping up on your elbows, you level your face with his hips. It’s a bit easier to suck him off now, but you don’t dare get carried away. Already your jaw aches from his weight alone. Sucking and slurping, you lose yourself in your task to even realize that the toy’s moving inside you.

It’s not enough. It’s not the same. With his cock in your mouth, his girth and a quarter of his length down your throat, you just know that nothing can compare to this. That dildo, the one you’ve been using for a couple of years now, the one that has made you squirt more times than you can count, only seems like a poor excuse for a toy now.

You bring your hand up to his cock, pulling him out of your mouth for a breather. Quiet moans escape you, but it’s mainly due to the way he tastes. Jerking him off, you look up at him, pout your lips and ask, “Turn it on?”

Bringing his brows together, Seokjin licks his lips. “It turns on?”

You nod. He starts to shake his head at your request, but you open your mouth once more and smack his tip on your tongue. He pauses. You do it again and again, moaning erotically in hopes that the image would be pronogrpahic enough for him to finally agree.

For once, your plan works.

Seokjin mutters, “Turn it on then.”

You squeal in delight, waving a hand down towards your crotch to get the dildo started. It hums loudly, vibrating harshly against your walls as you set it to the highest intensity. He raises a brow down at the toy.

Worried he’d catch onto your actions, you quickly return to your ordered task. You deep-throat as much of him as you can without much of a warning and pump the rest of his cock at a quick, harsh pace. All the while, you're holding his gaze. However, even with the sight of tears streaming down your face and a mouthful of dick, Seokjin remains sharp and focused.

The moment you turned that vibrator on, he ceased all movements. Holding it still in your pussy, he watches you devour his cock to overcompensate for the fact that you indirectly disobey him. But judging by the cocky look in his eyes, you’re starting to think this is exactly what he thought would happen.

Realization hits you, mid-slurp, and you stop all movements. Warming his cock in your throat, you glare up at him through your blurry vision. This entire time you’ve been playing right into his hand. And why are you even taken aback by this discovery? You know you love it. He knows you love it. Why are you finding that so hard to admit yourself?

You’re about to pull him out but he holds onto the back of your head and pushes you back down on him. Gags vibrate around his cock at the same rate the toy buzzes in you. It’s uncontrollable and all he does is grunt and growl, throwing his head back. Seokjin knows he’s pushing your limits right now, but he doesn’t seem to care. Only when you grip onto his thigh does he let you go.

Wet and slobbery, you swallow mouthfuls of oxygen even while his tip rests on your tongue. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were the toy in this situation, not whatever’s vibrating in your pussy right now.

Seokjin takes the dildo out of you while gently nudging you to lay back down. “You’ll be a good girl now? You won’t try anything else?”

You scoff. “How is it fair that you get to play around all you want?”

Holding your gaze, he presses the edge of the toy against your clit. You instantly cry out and roll your hips into it. He then pulls it away and watches you whine and huff in frustration.

“That’s why.”

Wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you roll your eyes. “I can do that too.”

“You already did,” he points out, referring to your little attempt to try to distract him from the fact that you turned it on to any intensity you wanted. “Do I need to remind you how that turned out for you?”

Then it hits you. He wasn’t playing around; he was punishing you. A string of curses loops in your mind at how stupid you’ve been. You should’ve tried to humiliate him back, degrade him just as well as he had degraded you. You shouldn’t have inflated his ego like this. You shouldn’t have disregarded the one thing that has kept him in your life for this long; your pride.

Crossing your arms under your breasts, consequently pushing them together, you reply, “Do I need to remind you that you’re just as horny as I am?” Seokjin circles around your head so that he is leering right above you. You have to lean your head back to talk to him as you continue. “I know how hard you are, Jin. I know how badl-”

Seokjin cuts you off by smearing his tip over your lips. You fall silent. Staring up at him, you try to resist the urge to lick your lips. You do, however, open your mouth wide without being asked to. Though you tell yourself that you’re doing this because you want to, though you know deep down that everything you do is for him.

He spares no time with words. The moment you open your mouth, he leans forward and pushes his cock down your throat. His weighty balls fall against your forehead and large hands reach for your breasts to mount himself. He doesn’t move; he simply sits over your head while your throat keeps his cock warm.

He doesn’t fit. It doesn’t stop him from squeezing himself in. Your throat burns. The gags and tears don’t bother him. Your hands on his thighs, nails digging into his flesh, doesn’t faze him. The fact that he doesn’t fit isn’t an issue in his mind. He probably won’t fit in your pussy, but you both know that won’t stop him either.

As you choke on him, throat constricting, swallowing his length upon command, he grabs the vibrating dildo somewhere by your head and presses it against your clit once more. You can’t even moan with his cock this far down your throat. Your hips spasm, though, and legs tremble. You roll into the toy, squirming under his body.

“You really need a mouthful of dick to follow orders?” He asks over your gags and the buzzes of the vibrator. Slowly, he starts to pull out of you.

You want to say the first sound to escape you the moment he’s out is a gasp for fresh air, but you can’t. You moan instead. You moan his name. The denial will never die, so long as the truth is this obvious. Every breath you spend on him rather than yourself only further proves that fact.

He stays hovering behind your head, cock perched against your cheek, as he continues to get you off from this angle. Little chuckles fill the space between you with every desperate, broken moan of his name that pours out of you. Your panting, your throat’s aching, and yet all you can think, all you can say is “Jin, Jin, Jin.”

Pussy clenching, hips buckling, your orgasm nears. Looking up at him, you find his attention is locked on your crotch. A little smile tugs on your lips with that familiar sense of pride blushing in your chest. Captivating him like this turns you on too much to be able to soundly admit. Something about making him happy, making him lose himself over you makes you proud. Maybe you just like the attention, you tell yourself while wrapping your hand around his cock.

Curious and dark, his eyes snap back to yours. Moaning against his length, you stare up at him innocently. What’s the use of fighting your need for him… when he’s controlling that vibrator? As long as he’s in control, you know you’re going to have to give into every order blindly, especially if you want to cum. You tell yourself that you’ll do what he says because you haven’t had a good fucking in a while then push any opposing arguments to the side.

Seokjin smiks. “Close, Little Doe?”

So very close. You can’t hide the quaking of your legs. You’re just glad he’s not sitting near your pussy or he’d be able to see how much it quivers for him. Sucking harshly on his tip, you nod and hum, “Mhm.”

Your gasps are breathless, moans desperate as you feel your orgasm threaten to take over. Shutting your eyes, you throw your head back and-

“No!”

His obnoxious laugh meets your ears. You cry out curses as you sit yourself up and turn to look at him. Face blotched with tears, spit and precum, you glare at him. “You fucker!”

He only laughs harder. Having had enough of his games, you reach for the vibrator. You don’t need him; you can do it yourself… if he’ll let you, that is. Seokjin holds the toy out of reach once more when you attempt to grab it out of his hands.

“I was so close!” You whine, clutching onto the collar of his shirt.

Mocking your whines, he grabs onto your ass to keep you still. Your eyes then widen, the tip of his erection poking at your stomach. With the two of you now on your knees, battling for the upper hand, the desire to have him in you only intensifies. Your dress pools around your knees as you straighten your posture. The act of hooking a leg around his waist to jump on his cock is all too tempting. The fast murmurs of the vibrator is long forgotten now that all your mind can think about is how easy it would be to take what you want. That’s what he has been doing this whole time anyways, right?

Eyes dark and drenched in dominance, he smiles. He really thinks he’s won, that he’s got you wrapped around his finger. From a single glance, you know he believes you’ll do anything for him. And maybe if he hadn’t edged you that hard, you would’ve played right into his hand again. But, he got drunk off this control and it’s about time you reclaim it.

You may be naked, but you’re about to uncover every single one of his cocky glances and sly smirks. Destruction is your goal.

Softening your gaze, you pout your lips and press them to his chin. Seokjin stiffens. His grin falls. He brings his brows together and watches you carefully. You arch your back to push your ass further into his hand. Mewling against his jawline, you release his shirt and slither a hand to his neck.

Seokjin scoffs and lowers his hand, dropping the vibrator. Both his hands cup the underside of your ass, lifting you up and spreading your legs enough to position his cock between your folds. Biting back a smirk, you slither your other hand through his long, pulled back hair and exaggerate an innocent whine. He eats it up, rolling his hips into yours.

The little bit of friction against your clit only derails you for a second as your breath hitches. He’s getting too comfortable with this feigned submissive state you’re displaying. When he starts to massage your cheeks, you know you’ve got him hooked. He’s too vulnerable to predict your next move.

As his eyes flutter close and he leans in for a kiss, you grab onto his throat. His eyes shoot open, but it’s too late. You pull his head back by the grip on his hair and dig your nails into his neck. Bearing your teeth, you graze and nibble on his jawline. He spanks you as a means of retaliation, but the gasp that escapes you only adds to your anger.

“You really thought you could get away with that?” You question while tightening your grip on his throat. Seokjin gulps. You giggle when you feel his adam’s apple bob under your palm. “You should’ve let me cum, you pathetic slut.”

Using his words against him only seems to humour the situation. He laughs, trying to look at you despite the fact that you’re holding his head back. “Let me go before I lose my patience, Little Doe,” he rasps.

You’re the one that has a hold on him. He can’t tell you what to do. How does he even have the guts to taunt you when you’ve got him in such a degrading position. You clench your jaw and grunt.

“I won’t tell you again.” The humor in his tone has disappeared.

Huffing, you raise a brow. If you need to assure your dominance over him, then that’s exactly what you’ll do. Gathering your saliva, you spit over his lips. He flinches. “Lie the fuck down,” you order.

Seokjin darts his tongue out and licks his lips. Sighing, he whispers, “I’ll tell you what. If you can lay me down yourself, without using magic, I’ll apologize for everything.”

That tool. He must think the least of you if he’s willing to bargain this much. You’re about to tell him to shut up and do as you say, but then he smirks. He really believes you can’t do it. Anger doesn’t fully encompass your feelings towards him, and neither does rage at this point. You’re livid. Heart pumping a vicious dose of spite and pride, you release his throat and attempt to shove him down by his shoulders.

He doesn’t budge. He doesn’t even pretend to be affected. You should’ve known better than you push him by his strongest point. His shoulders are massive; of course, they’d keep him up. Your next attempt focuses on his chest as you try to shove him down from there. Seokjin chuckles, biting his lip to keep the rest of his laughter in.

“Just give up,” you shout while trying to climb over him. The hope of your body weight being enough of a factor to bring him down, backfires. Now you’re the one locked in his grip. His arms wrap tightly around your waist, breasts in his face.

“I was just about to say the same thing to you,” he smiles.

You let go of his hair. Both hands grip onto his shoulders as you watch his messy hair come undone. A few strands fall over his eyes. From this angle, with his long hair everywhere and chin leaning into your breasts, he looks harmless, perhaps even enchanting. He’s beautiful. That’s a fact you can never deny. It’s been true the moment you saw him all those years ago and it’s true now. But that amount of dominance is all your pride is willing to accept at this point.

Pushing those soft strands of hair out of his face, you whisper, “Lay down, Jin.”

Seokjin shakes his head, nuzzling his face between your breasts. Your breath hitches as he makes himself comfortable by kissing and biting just under each tit; your most sensitive areas. Eyes fluttering shut, head falling back, you let yourself get lost in the gentle pleasure for a moment. But then, his teeth graze your skin a little bit harder than necessary.

Your eyes snap open, hands rushing through his hair to pull his head back. Glaring down at him, you’re about to scold him for thinking he can take over you like that and not expect to be punished. Little do you know, he’s thinking the same exact thing.

Before you can even part your lips, Seokjin’s patience has disappeared. He lays you down with ease, making quick work of pinning your hands over your head. You grunt and roll your hips against his stomach as a means to push him off, or so you tell yourself. Seokjin only plays into it as he rolls his body back into you. He chuckles when he feels your pussy quiver from the slightest bit of friction. You're too needy to put up more of a fight for your control back. And while that fact has already come and gone for Seokjin, you’re still making your peace with it.

“You’re so fucking lucky you’re this cute,” he purrs. “Or I would’ve pounded that attitude out of you the first time you acted out.”

It’s condescending, absolutely degrading, yet you’re gushing for more. Pussy throbbing, you whine and attempt to pull your wrists out of his hold. You don’t make much progress. Seokjin smirks down at you. He leans in for a kiss and the temptation to give in returns. It trickles into your heart in quiet whispers. However, your pride is louder, slithering into your soul in booming echoes. So as his lips near yours, instead of puckering, you spit.

He flinches. “I was so close to forgiving you, Little Doe.”

“I haven’t apologized.”

“Yet.”

You part your lips to tell him to go to hell, when suddenly you're turned over. Face smushed into the ground, body flat but ass up and hands held behind you, you’re entirely at his mercy. A soft cloth, you can only guess was the wrap of your lunch box, finds its way around your wrists, binding them tightly.

“Ji- Ah~”

The smack of his hand coming down on your ass echoes in the vacant space. With your face towards the cityscape, you can see a few people look around for the source. If a single person glances up at the peak, they’d find your naked body completely submissive to Seokjin’s clothed one. The risk causes your arousal to tickle down your thigh.

Whether or not Seokjin is aware of the fact that he’s calling the attention of an audience doesn’t matter much to you. And even if it did and you wanted to ask him about it, you wouldn’t have the chance. After another spank, Seokjin pushes your asscheeks up and apart to bury his tongue in your pussy. You circle your hips at the warm sensation of his mouth against your heat. Moans and curses mixed with praises pour out of you as he sips on every wet drop of yours. He groans at the taste, completely entrenched in your needy pussy to pull away.

“Oh, yes, there, you fucker,” you moan as his tongue swipes between your folds. Another spank meets your ass at the insult. You cry out a moan, but don’t care enough to stop. “That’s cute,” you whine. Though your words may be condescending, your tone betrays your intentions. You sound more broken and needy than ever. Each word sounds more like a plea rather than an insult.

Seokjin rather heard the former. He laps up a good amount of your wetness, then brings his glistening lips up to your asshole. After spitting the wet mixture over your hole, he reaches for the abandoned, still buzzing vibrator.

“Ever use this in your ass?” He asks while swirling the spit mixed juices around your hole with the tip of the vibrator.

You shudder a whine, fisting your hands to keep yourself focused. “No,” you sigh. “The most I’ve put in is two fingers.”

Seokjin chuckles as he pushes the tip in a good inch or two. You squeal loudly and screw your eyes shut from the buzzing, blissfully burning sensation of the vibrator’s stretch. “Well, after today you can say you’ve put in a bit more than that.”

As he massages your cheeks, tongue relatching onto your heat, you realize you really are just a toy to him, a little play thing, a set of holes to entertain him. And you should hate him for that, hate him for stealing your things, for reading your secrets, for making you love him all these years, but you don’t. You can’t hate someone as wonderfully prideful as you. You can’t despise his hardheaded tendencies or the fact that he must always be right. Because, though these traits may get you in some trouble, they’re possibly your favourite things about yourself. You love the challenge of proving yourself, and you know he does too. And of all the stupid men you’ve been with, Seokjin’s the only one that understands how to pleasure you, to provoke you beyond repair.

The more you think about everything you’ve done to him out of spite and everything he’s done to you in return, the more you crave his cock. Pushing back against his lips, you hiss, “When the fuck are you planning to fuck me?”

He sits back and lets his hand take over his tongue’s work. Two fingers rub between your folds and tease your entrance as he replies, “Think you can take the whole thing, Little Doe?”

Just when you were thinking you actually love the guy, he goes and throws your words back in your face. You’re starting to wonder if you’re insane for wanting him even more now. “Why don’t you stick it in and find out, you fucking thief,” you reply between quiet moans.

His grip on your ass softens and he takes his fingers out at the reference. Though your heart’s telling you to drop it and charm him once more, your pride encourages you to continue. “Maybe this pussy might fuck some honour back in you. Maybe you’ll learn not to take what isn’t yours.”

That harsh hold returns. Both his hands grab onto your ass in a deadly grip as he darkly chuckles and asks, “What makes you think I’m the one being taught a lesson? Aren’t you the one tied up?”

His questions are irreverent, you tell yourself. With that vibrator in your ass and your pussy empty of his touch, all you can think about is how badly you need to be filled. “You annoying little shit,” you hiss over your shoulder. “Just fuck me already.”

He smacks your pussy, making you cry out his name like the slut you know you are for him. “Watch your mouth, whore,” he warns. His voice is heavy with lust and dominance. You can’t help but push your hips back towards him from his tone alone. “Or, I swear, I’ll make you sorry you ever talked to me seven years ago.”

“You fucker! You spoke to me first!”

“Are you serious right now? I’m threatening to fuck the shit out of you and you want to argue about who spoke to who first?”

You huff a shaky breath. “You’re avoiding the topic because you know you’re wrong.”

“You just love lying, don’t you?”

How the fuck are you the liar? Fighting against the restraints, you explain over your shoulder, “I was minding my own business in my compartment and your dumbass-”

Seokjin shoves the half-eaten peach in your mouth, cutting you off. You bite into it to get a piece out so the rest could fall, but you end up hitting the pit. Chin sticky with peach juice, you scream into the fruit and try to glare at him over your shoulder. Seokjin simply pushes your face into the ground, leans over your flattened body and purrs, “I’ve heard enough from you, slut. Lying, screaming. You even think you can boss me around.” He chuckles a bit at his last sentence before continuing, “You’re going to apologize to me, (Y/N).”

“Never!” You scream into the peach. However, all he hears is a two syllable grunt.

No matter. The fact that you spoke back is enough to spur him on. He let’s go of your head and sits back up. You go to lift your head off the ground, but he pulls your hips up before you have the chance. He positions his cock between your folds then aligns it with your entrance. You only have the opportunity to suck in half a breath before he’s pushing himself in.

You were right before to assume he wouldn’t fit. His girth alone is thick enough to make you cry into the fruit with every bit he further attempts to slide in. The stretch is so sweet, so harsh. You’re obsessed with how fucking big he is and how well he makes room for himself between your walls. Peach juice and drool runs down your chin, your neck, and stains the sheet. A mewling, sticky mess already and he’s not even halfway in. You need to stop losing yourself over him though, if you intend on keeping your apologies to yourself.

However, the vibrator partly lodged in your ass is not helping your attempt to stay still and sane. And every inch he continues to push in has you rolling eyes. Is it humiliating to admit you want this everyday, every night, every moment of your life? Is it disgraceful to wish he was yours always? Is it unreasonable to want to be his one and only? Him, him, him. All you want, all you crave is more him.

He finally bottoms out. Maybe you’re whipped for his dick, or too horny to think straight, but you can almost certainly swear on both your lives that the imprint of his cock is bulging from your stomach. You can feel it against the floor. The realization makes you shudder and whimper into the fruit.

“Tightest fucking cunt,” he whispers to himself. He then suddenly leans over your body, his stomach nudging the vibrator in a bit more, and kisses up your spine. A bundle of shivering nerves follow his trail up to the curve of your ear. “You know,” he starts in a whisper. “You look a lot like a little annoyed kitten when you’re angry.”

You scratch at his stomach from your constrained position and groan into the peach.

“See?” He darkly chuckles. “I live to see your nose twitch and eyes go dark whenever I piss you off. You just look so cute, Little Doe.” Hips pulling back, he continues, “I just can’t resist.”

“Fuck you.”

The clap of skin on skin is enough of a reply. Your eyes roll back and jaw clenches, teeth clattering against the peach pit. He starts slow, breathing heavily in your ear, making you clench around his cock for more. But then, he straightens his posture and holds onto your hands to build some momentum. With his heavy balls smacking against your clit as he speeds up, the most you can do is muffle your moans and whines into the fruit and pray you’ll mentally survive this.

It’s all too good to be true. His length hits all the right places and then some, bringing grateful tears in your eyes that you’re thankful he can’t see. If he knew you were slowly becoming a sobbing mess for his cock too, then he’d never let you live it down.

Seokjin then lets go of your hands, leaving you grabbing at the air, and shifts his hold to your ass. Using the meat of your cheeks, he pulls you forward and back to meet him halfway. He groans your name with every smack of his hips against your ass. You’re dripping off his tongue, entrenched in his very being by the way he chants your name. And though you’re the one tied and gagged like a suckling pig, utterly submitting to him and his dominance, the fact that he’s high off you is enough validation of power for you to enjoy his cock guilt-free.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You whine back without much thought. Only when he pounds into you three more times does your mind catch up to his word. Beautiful? Did he just call you beautiful? Was that supposed to be demeaning? Because, even if it wasn’t, you seem to be getting closer and closer to your high.

You grunt a broken question into the fruit. Seokjin pushes in deep and leans over your body once more. Placing a soft kiss to your cheek, he takes out the mulled peach and asks, “What was that, Little Doe?”

“Do you mean it?”

The question trickles out of you in cracked cries of pleasure. And though you may sound weak and dick-hungry, the question is still strong enough to stun him. Soon, however, his senses find him once more. Circling his hips into your ass, cock swirling your juices deep within you and rubbing against your needy walls, he repeats in a dark whisper, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

And as you moan his name in affirmation, he continues his thrusts in and out of you. The pace is slower than before, but the force is just as brutal.

Seokjin takes a bite from the peach. In fact, it’s the same bite you took, only he avoids the pit. He then sticks half the piece out of his mouth, holding it out for you. You meet his lips halfway, taking a bite off while kissing him. The juices smear down both your faces, but you’re all too consumed with the filthy act of exchanging saliva to care.

Pulling away, Seokjin holds your chin until you finish chewing and swallowing the piece. “Why couldn’t you swallow my cum like that last night?” He playfully asks.

“I didn’t know-” You cut yourself off, the realization of your words catching up to your mind just in time.

He raises a brow, ramming his hips even harder into you. “Didn’t know what, Little Doe?”

You shake your head.

Seokjin drops the peach and grabs your hair. “Tell me.”

“No,” you mewl.

“Tell me or I won’t let you cum.”

The threat is enough to give you pause, but not nearly enough to make you confess. Then, he stills his hips mid thrusts and ups the stakes. “Tell me, Little Doe, and I’ll tell you the truth about the letters.”

The letters. The offer is more than tempting, but how can you be sure it's real? You swallow thickly, trying to sneak a good look at him in your peripherals. From the glances you’re able to get, you can tell that he’s serious. Gulping every fear and nag of your pride, you push your ego aside and confess, “I didn’t know I was in love with you then.”

Seokjin pauses for a moment. He releases your hair then sighs. Have you said too much? Before you can really think about it, he presses a wet kiss to your cheek and continues with his movements into you. “I love you too, my little slut,” he purrs before returning to his previous position behind you.

His little slut. You’re all his. However, you don’t have much time to relish over this newfound information as he takes up a speed you’ve never experienced before. He’s harsh and his cock viciously rams in and out of you while pushing the vibrating dildo further into your ass. You cry out a broken sob and nuzzle your tear and peach juice stained face into the sheet.

Your pussy tightens around his cock as you edge your orgasm. “C-Can I?” You ask, fearful he’ll deny you the truth if you don’t, or so you try to convince your ego that.

“Of course, Little Doe,” he grunts. “I’m no liar.”

You want to dive into his words, the meanings behind them and why he chose now, of all the times, to tell you that. But, with your orgasm taking over, all you can focus on is trying to breathe. Eyes rolling back and twitching, mouth hung open, ears like sirens with their ringing, and pussy gushing, you reach your peak. Crying out his name, you cum all over his cock.

Seokjin is relentless. He does not still his hips for a split second. In and out, he dives. He’s adamant on riding you through this and reaching his own high as well. “Tell me again,” he orders. “Tell me how you feel again, baby.”

Destruction is your goal, but you never thought to be at the receiving end of it. Your mind feels foggy, heart racing and pussy aching with that sweet relief of releasing all you have for him. And though you might have thought that that second time you confess your feelings to him might break you, you find that it gives you strength instead.

“I love you,” you breathlessly cry.

You just finish the confession when he pulls in deep and shoots ropes of his cum into you. The tears in your eyes have no bounds. The stimulation is proving to be too much as you squirm in place. Seokjin quietly shushes you while grinding into your pussy to sprout every last drop into you.

“Please, please,” you tremble. “It’s too mu-ch, Jin.”

Seokjin pulls the dildo out of your ass, and turns it off before tossing it near your head. With his cock still deep in you, he unbinds your hands. You bring your hands to either side of your head, sighing at the relief of the strain. Then, finally, he slowly pulls out of you. You let out a staggered whimper and close your eyes to try to contain yourself from crying out once more. You’re sure at this point that a few people must’ve seen you. You’re in the broad daylight, laying on the highest hill and screaming at the top of your lungs. Surely, you’ve caught a handful of attention.

Once he’s fully out of you, Seokjin flips you over on your back. You avoid his gaze and bring your knees into your chest. He smiles and holds onto your ankles.

“I’m not sure if I want to clean you up or not,” he thinks out loud. You're too light headed to answer, but the hard look in your eyes when you finally meet his gaze is enough to make him laugh. “Guess I’m gonna leave you to walk around with my cum all day, Little Doe.”

“That’s not fair,” you sigh.

Seokjin tuts. “Don’t whine,” he orders while pressing soft kisses upon your knees. He then pulls his briefs and pants up. And just like that, he’s fully dressed. The only indication that something dirty occurred is the dripping stain of peach juice on his white shirt.

A part of you can’t bring itself to care if his cum stays in you or not. He’s fucked you beyond comprehension and you still have yet to regain your senses. His eyes flash with worry when you don’t fight him on his decision.

“Are you okay?”

You only nod, all too fucked out to use words.

“Need help sitting up?”

He interprets the half-hearted glare you shoot him as the yes you intended. He holds his hands out for you and you take them without a second thought. A smile graces his features as he pulls you off the ground. You tuck your legs under you when you finally sit back up. Your dress crumples under you and you can’t even be bothered to pull it out.

Seokjin, barely even heaving, watches you try to compose yourself. “How are you not as tired as I am?” You question between pants.

“Because I’m better than- Ow!”

You swat his shoulder and glare at him. “Finish that sentence and you won’t get any tonight,” you threaten before turning your attention back to your dress. You pull it out from under your and try to turn it inside in.

Seokjin scoffs, flipping the dress over so you can finish your task easier. “You really think you’ll be able to go again tonight too?”

Licking your lips, you hold his gaze and pull your dress back on. “If the truth doesn’t destroy you,” you start, buttoning up your dress, “Then, you can have me every night.”

He slowly nods along to your words. Curling a strand of his hair behind his ear, he sighs and finally confesses, “I did steal the letters.”

Your heart shatters into your gut. Clenching your jaw, you attempt to hold back your tears. Yes, you’ve accused him of it over and over again, but every time he denied it, you believed him. Never did you really believe he was this capable of being cruel.

The trembling sigh that escapes you makes him turn his body fully towards you. “I didn’t take them from you though,” he quickly adds.

“My owl is an extension of me, asswipe,” you seethe, voice almost breaking.

Seokjin shakes his head and corrects his statement, “No, I mean I didn’t take them from you at all. I caught someone reading them in the restricted section.”

You scoff, looking off into the town with a shake of your head. This is unbelievable. Does he honestly think he can copy your someone claim and get away with it? “Someone?”

He raises a brow at you. “What? Suddenly that sounds stupid? That’s all you’ve been telling McGonagall.”

You snap your eyes back to him and shout, “That’s the truth! Someone told-”

“I know it was Mitch,” he cuts off.

“How can you be so sure? It could’ve-”

“Because that’s who I found with your letters.”

You freeze. No. No! Mitch is a Slytherin, a friend. Why the hell would he steal your letters and then tell you about it? And if he did read them, then he knows the truth about you. So why hasn’t his demeanour around you changed? Why hasn’t he told anyone else?

“I thought you were going to tell me the truth.”

“(Y/N), I swear this is the entirety of it. I took them from him the moment I recognized your handwriting,” he explains. Seokjin shifts closer to you and pushes your hair out of your face. “He told me that if I told you what he did, then he'd tell the school about your blood status.”

Nothing can stop the tears pooling in your eyes. You try to blink them back, but that only provokes a few to fall. Seokjin goes to wipe them only to have you push his hand away. “So you know?” You whisper in hopes that it will mask the cracks in your voice.

It doesn’t.

“No one cares that you’re muggle born, (Y/N),” he sighs.

“So why didn’t you tell McGonagall the truth then? Why’d you hide it for this long if no one will care? We both know there’s a good chunk of each house that will hunt me down if they knew.”

He shakes his head. “You know that’s not true. I didn’t tell anyone because I knew it would hurt you. You’re just scared you’d lose your power over everyone. Being half blood gains you just as much respect as being a muggle born.”

Your tears act on their own accord now, falling freely down your face. This time when Seokjin goes to wipe them away, you don’t reject him. He cups your face and says, “And if anyone does try to hurt you because of that-”

“You’ll make their life a living hell?” You mockingly finish.

Seokjin smirks. “No, my girlfriend will,” he chuckles, genuine eyes boring into yours. “She’s really beautiful and she’s not afraid to take what’s hers. And she’s actually really scary. I’m really terrified of what she’ll do next sometimes.”

You fight off the urge to smile as much as you can while he speaks. “You better be talking about me or I swear, Jin, I’ll-”

“See? She’s already making threats and I’m complimenting her,” he laughs.

A little giggle tumbles out of your lips. As you finally let yourself smile, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a tight hug. “Thank you,” you mutter into his shoulder.

Seokjin is quick to hold onto your waist. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck. “You know you’ll be okay, Little Doe.”

The nickname has never made you smile as much as this before. And though your ego is still larger than him, your pride finally takes the back seat. Swallowing thickly, you pull away from him and mumble, “I’m sorry.”

“Hmm?”

You huff through your nose and only just raise your voice, “I’m sorry.”

Seokjin knits his brows and leans in, “What?”

“For fuck’s sake, you alpaca, I said I’m sorry!”

“Oh, you were serious?” He asks with a playful smirk.

You internally curse yourself for being so in love with an idiot and shake your head. Your nose twitches a bit and Seokjin can’t help but throw his head back as he laughs. “I don’t know why I try,” you mutter to yourself.

Seokjin grabs onto your wrist and pulls you into his lap. You give in without another word and let him cradle you close to his chest. “You don’t need to apologize for anything,” he mutters against your hair. “I know you didn’t mean to start that fire.”

You snap your head up at him. “Really?”

“I told McGonagall the same thing but she kept asking if I knew who else would do that, so I just stopped trying.”

He really tried. This whole time you were convinced he thought the worse of you, that he didn’t care if you ever returned to Hogwarts, but he really was trying to help you. How long has he known he’s been in love with you too? Wrapping your arms around him, you reach up for another gentle kiss. The act of kissing him seems so natural now, so right and real. The way your lips move against each other isn’t like something you’ve felt before. You want this always; you want him always.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise.”

You pull away from Seokjin with a start. His eyes dart to something behind you as his hands quickly move to hide the dark green dildo behind him. Quickly crawling out of his lap, you jump to your feet and stand an arm's length away from Seokjin. He follows your lead, standing up as you press your thighs together.

Your mixed cum threatens to fall with every passed second you remain standing. Cursing yourself for not making him clean it up, you try to stay calm. As long as it doesn’t drip pass the hem of your dress, you know you’ll be fine

Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Trelawney hover just over the edge of the hill as they look between the two of you. How long have they been watching you? How much did they hear? Oh fuck, you think, how much did they see?

You remain perfectly still as both of them land and dismount. “We’ve been looking everywhere for the two of you. Your lunch break finished twenty minutes ago,” Professor Trelawney sighs. “I was worried you were hurt.”

“We’re fine,” you reply.

“Just fine,” Seokjin echoes.

McGonagall flickers her attention between the two of you. “What were you so busy doing that you lost track of time?” She questions.

Swallowing thickly, you mutter, “That’s a good question.”

“Really good question.”

Turning to Seokjin, you quietly ask, “Are you going to do that the entire time?”

“What? I’m not allowed to talk?”

“Not if you’re gonna act like a parrot.”

“Ahem…”

Silence falls over the both of you the moment McGonagall clears her throat. Once she has regained your attention, her gaze falls on something to your right. All eyes follow your line of sight to find your lace bra by your lunch box. You bring a hand to your mouth to keep your jaw from dropping in sheer embarrassment.

“And how long has this been going on?”

“Since last night,” Seokjin replies with almost no prompting.

You swat his arm, shooting him a pointed look. “Are you kidding me?”

“Oh,” McGonagall hums. She then turns to Professor Trelawney and says, “You were right. They are getting along. Well, this won’t be so hard to say then.”

You hold your breath. Here it is. The results of your investigation. All questions about your future as a witch in training will finally come to an end. Seokjin shifts closer to you and his hand finds yours. You turn to meet his gaze as he squeezes your hand.

“Mr. Kim Seokjin,” the headmistress starts, “Congratulations. You will be returning to Hogwarts first thing tomorrow morning.”

However, Seokjin doesn’t move. He doesn’t even so much as let out a shaky breath. He simply continues to hold your hand and stare at McGonagall. You attempt to squeeze his hand to let him know you’re okay, but he still doesn’t budge.

McGonagall quirks her head at him, asking, “Is there something you’d like to say, Mr. Kim.”

“Yes,” he finally states. When the headmistress nods for him to continue, he exhales deeply and says, “I won’t let you expel her for something she didn’t do.”

A smirk plays on her lips. “That’s very noble of you, Mr. Kim. But Miss (L/N) is not being expelled for something she didn’t do.”

“(Y/N) didn’t start the fire.”

“Quite so,” McGonagall agrees. Your eyes widen and for a moment you don’t think you’re breathing at all. “That’s why she will be returning with you in the morning.”

A child-like laughter you’ve never heard before escapes you at the announcement. “Really?” You ask, and when both professors smile and nod, you jump into Seokjin’s arms. He wraps his arms around you instantly, lifting you off the ground.

However, in the haste of his movements, Seokjin drops the one thing redeeming your pride before your professors. Upon impact, the dildo hums to life and all smiles are suddenly gone. Both you and Seokjin rush to turn it off with a wave of your hand, but it only seems to intensify the vibrations. Finally, McGonagall pulls out her wand and silences the toy.

You can’t even bear to look at her, keeping your eyes trained on the ground. Seokjin opens his mouth to explain but the headmistress shakes her head, “The less we know the better.”

After a beat of silence, she hands each of you your wands and expresses her excitement to see you in the halls once more. And as she summons her broom up into her hand, Seokjin asks the headmistress, “So was it an accident then?”

“No, I’m afraid someone intended to hurt you,” she sighs, “The both of you actually.”

You share a concerned look with Seokjin. “Who?”

“Someone,” she smirks as she mounts onto your broom. “We look forward to having you back at Hogwarts.”

The two of you thank both of your professors before they fly back to the cafe.

Seokjin wraps his arm lazily around your waist and pulls you into his chest. He smiles down at you before cupping your face and softly pressing his lips to yours. You kiss him back, relishing in your secured position at school.

“I knew it,” he says upon breaking the kiss.

You roll your eyes and fight off a smile. “You did not. You were shaking when you thought I wasn’t coming back,” you tease.

He grabs a handful of your ass. Raising a brow, he mutters, “Says the one on the verge of tears.”

“I don’t cry.”

Seokjin has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. He clears his throat, nods, then says, “I know, Little Doe.”

Your breath somewhat hitches. Did he just try to save your pride? “Wow, you really are in love with me,” you mumble.

You didn’t expect your words to ignite the egoistic part of him, but suddenly his expression hardens and his pride is on the line. “Never said in love.”

“Why are you lying?”

“You’re the liar.”

“Do you wanna go over…”

Your bickering lasts for either of you to even remember what set you off to begin with. And though your words knock each other’s pride only to build it again, and the pranks have not ceased to exist, you both know that nothing can change what you found, the love you found in each other on the tip of Doe’s Peak.

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#hyunglinenetwork #networkbangtan #bangtanfairygarden #btswritingcafe #btsguild #ficswithluv #btsgoldnet #bangtanhq #magicshopnet #seokjin smut #jin smut #kim seokjin smut #bts hogwarts au #bts smut

1K notes · View notes

hockeywhy · 3 years

Text

lights out (1); t. konecny

PART 2 WARNINGS: language, smut. WORD COUNT: 5.7k

You [attachment: photo taken in what appears to be a dimly lit room. The image is taken from the nose down, mouth slightly open and evidently smiling, two fingers pushed down against your tongue. A white shirt hangs off your shoulders around your elbows, revealing a cage bra, the straps and lining black and the orange lace of the cup sheer.]

You bet you wish you were here now

You released a small sigh, sliding down the headboard of your bed until you felt the plush pillows behind your head again. For a while, you stared blankly upwards at your ceiling, your phone held loosely in one hand while the other rested against your stomach, fingers tapping idly against the exposed skin.

It had only been around a month since you allowed your friendship with Troy to develop into something a little more than that, but less than a relationship should be. You have known him almost for as long as you could remember, going way back to the days when the two of you would be made to stand side-by-side for photographs while your families cooed over how adorable you looked. Had anyone told you that years down the line you and Troy would be exchanging messages meant for each other’s eyes only, you would’ve laughed at them, spun on your heel and walked away. He never once struck you as someone you would even consider dating, much less send semi-naked photos of yourself to for the simple fact that Troy was a friend and nothing else. Not once did you even bother sparing a thought to the possibility of liking him beyond that but, well, coming to think of it, you still didn’t. And you were pretty sure he thought the same but occasionally, desperate times called for desperate measures.

Measures which just simply happened to coincide with word floating about Travis possibly keeping a relationship away from public eyes.

Your brother being traded to the Philadelphia Flyers coincided with your own college admission in the city roughly three years ago and you’d guess it was almost just as long since you started carrying a torch for Travis. If spectators got to see him as a dynamic, feisty, valuable for the team yet annoying for others sort of player, you got to know him as a laidback, funny, endearing and…well, occasionally annoying guy though apparently, only towards you. As if drawn to him by some invisible force, you found yourself in his vicinity often enough and it seemed that Travis welcomed it as an opportunity to tease you one way or another. You gave as good as you got though, and admittedly, that also helped you keep your feelings in check a little. Or at least, enough to never give even the smallest of hints to those around you that you might have a thing for Travis. Tolerate him, sure. Hold a genuine conversation by resisting the temptation to push each other’s buttons, no way. If, behind closed doors in the privacy of your own room, you wondered what it’d be like to have him next to you and occasionally, allowed that idea to take on an entirely different meaning while sliding a hand between your legs, then that was for you to know only.

When you caught wind of the rumor that Travis may have finally, finally found someone at last, it was as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water, cubes and all, on you. Of course, there wasn’t anything more to whatever weird back-and-forth the two of you had going. After all, the two of you were fully grown adults not five-year olds who pushed each other around in the playground by way of saying hey dummy, I like you. Part of you expected that to come at some point. Travis was handsome, young and successful, and you were witness to numerous instances in which he was approached by girls who wouldn’t hesitate to press their numbers scribbled on napkins or small pieces of paper in his hand. It was only a matter of time until one of them caught his eye and it was painfully obvious that person wouldn’t be you. There wouldn’t be a chance, anyway. Too weird with your older brother on the team, probably. And besides, you couldn’t see yourself as being his type. Regardless of how often you tried making a conscious effort of not comparing yourself to others, nagging thoughts starting with I wish I had or I wish I was or Maybe I should too still crept up on you now and then. Sure, you were plenty confident in yourself: personality, looks, individuality, but you could see little of yourself in the girls who Travis let his eyes linger on a moment longer than maybe necessary before pocketing their number.

Troy was, for the lack of better word, convenient and not that awful of a distraction from Travis. Initially, you wanted to feel bad for thinking of him as such, but it quickly became clear to you that what Troy wanted was nothing more than someone he could count on for some release every now and then. So, really, you carried your fair share of convenience also.

You casually dated since starting college, but you couldn’t bring yourself to trust anyone as much as you trusted Troy to get to the level where you’d exchange nudes. Perhaps it had something to do with the two of you being friends for so long, but you also knew that if you ever wanted to call it quits with Troy, you’d be able to go back to how you were before. Simple as that. No way would he ever reveal anything you sent him to anyone. Troy proved his honesty and ability to keep to his word on several occasions, and that was more than enough for you.

Your phone vibrated and you blinked rapidly several times, pulling yourself away from your thoughts. Lifting the device above your face, you unlocked it and pressed the message notification, focus zeroing in on the response.

Travis is this your way of getting me to agree with you and say that this party really is boring?

A quiet giggle left your mouth but in the next second, you would swear you actually heard your breathing being cut short. You scrambled up on the bed and in your haste, almost dropped the device on the floor. As if someone had suddenly intruded, you pulled the shirt up on your shoulders and gripped the material tightly around you, bunching it up in your free hand to hide your torso. The seconds during which that happened, you could swear you read wrong or were imagining things. Surely…surely you just didn’t click into the wrong messaging thread, right? Right. That’d have to be it. You breathed in, then out. In, then out once more and looked at your phone again. As you did, it vibrated again, indicating a new message.

Travis if that’s the case, it’s working

It couldn’t be. You weren’t that careless. You always made an even greater effort of double checking the contact you clicked into whenever you messaged Troy, except… Except you were a little distracted this time around. Distracted and somewhat excited, truth be told. It’d been a while since the two of you have had the opportunity to get together and during this time, your conversations were of the ordinary sort: general comments about campus gossip, heated agreements about surely written exams were an outdated method of testing.

Your hands visibly trembled and you tried to steady yourself by inhaling deeply before daring to scroll just a little further up on the screen. There wasn’t any real need for that though: your photo was in clear view, not in the message thread you had with Troy but the message thread you had with Travis. Because he was the last person you messaged. Because he was the one who asked if you’d also be joining them for a get-together your brother organised at a venue often frequented by the team. Because maybe all you saw were the first two letters of the name and decided that was about as far as your concentration could manage before sending the photo. In hopes of getting a different type of attention from Troy at the time, you messaged Travis back to say that unfortunately, they ‘won’t benefit from my wonderful presence tonight, much as I know that’ll make things boring but try to find a silver lining if you can’.

“Fuck,” you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily as if that’d help erase what you’d done.

What you saw behind your eyes, however, wasn’t stars but Travis’ own messages relayed back to you over and over like blinding Times Square ads. You had to blink several times to clear your vision when you opened your eyes again, looking down at your phone to re-read them. As if, again, in your haste you’d done something wrong like misread what he responded with. It was there, though, on your screen – clear as day. You frowned.

You could think of a hundred different ways in which Travis could have responded to that – or even, not bothered with a response and save all the awkwardness for the next time you’d both be under the same roof. You read that back to yourself and it sounded less like what the fuck are you doing and more like now you have my attention. But that couldn’t be it… Had he not paid attention to the display name, hooked in simply by the photo alone? You wouldn’t put it past him. Or anyone else who’d be on the receiving end of photos like that, really. The selfie was suggestive in a way that invited action to try and get a better sneak peek. Maybe Travis hadn’t even checked to see who it was coming from. And besides, what about the rumors of him seeing someone? There couldn’t be smoke without fire, and you lived by that.

You shit, sorry! wrong person

You do me a favor and forget this happened

Not your smoothest moment, you had to admit but it’s as if your brain had short-circuited. You had to direct most of your attention and effort in trying to not read too deeply into Travis’ response. As if you reeled him in. As if he were willing to allow it to happen and wanted more. It couldn’t be because at no point did he leave anything to the imagination that he might have a thing for you. All the teasing, all the back-and-forth, there was never anything more to it than what was on the surface. Besides, something told you that if there was even the smallest chance of Travis having a thing for you, he would’ve made it fairly clear. He was anything but shy. Definitely not the sort of person to beat around the bush, regardless of whether you were the younger sibling of a teammate or not. Maybe he was just surprised. Yeah, that had to be it.

When your phone vibrated again, it wasn’t just a short notification for a new message. It vibrated and vibrated until you registered that actually, it was a call.

“Hey,” you answered, voice a little raspy. Your mouth felt dry, throat scratchy.

“You’re asking a lot from me,” came Travis’ response. On his end, you could just barely make out the muffled sound of thudding bass-heavy music. “Who were you going to send that to if not me, doll?”

The pet name sent a rush of heat all the way down to your belly. Much as you didn’t want to, you knew you’d end up playing that back to yourself for days to come. Regardless of how much you tried to direct your feelings elsewhere, Travis always found a way to weasel back to being at the center of your attention. Or better said, you found a way to put him back there, but it was easier to deal with the idea if you blamed it on him. It was equal parts pitiful and desperate to carry a torch for him for so long, knowing damn well nothing good would come out of it.

“Just a friend,” you responded, fingers tightening around the material of your shirt. “Travis, please—”

“I’m just a friend, aren’t I?” he interrupted, emphasizing his words in such way that he sounded almost…spiteful. “You still wearing that?” he added, a little lighter this time around.

“Travis.” His name fell from your mouth the way a plea would: whispered, urgent, tight.

“Only a simple question, Y/N, all you’ve gotta do is answer it.” You were ready to respond, but Travis added, “and then I’ll forget about it.”

You glared at the wall across from you. “Sounds a hell of a lot like blackmail to me,” you said without heat because suddenly, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Saying yes, you were still wearing that. Yes, you still looked exactly as your photo indicated you did, all delicate lace and glossy lips. Minimal effort from your part that always seemed to do the trick for boys like Troy. For boys in general because most were easy to hook in like that. “Yes,” you finally admitted, and you were surprised by how confident your voice sounded.

In your ear, Travis hummed thoughtfully. “Is it a matching set?”

You can’t help the small, breathless laugh that slipped from your mouth. It doesn’t take away from the fact that your hands were shaking, but it releases some tension from your shoulders. It was all it took for you to realize you wanted to cling to this, if even for just a few more minutes. “The second photo would’ve been the one to answer that.”

A small pause followed during which you could hear the bounce of what sounded to be wood against wood and then, the unmistakable fiddling of a metal latch catching. “Tell me about it instead. If you want.”

You wanted. You wanted so much that for a moment, his request made your breath hitch. Pressing your lips together into a tight line, you cast a glance towards your reflection caught in a tall mirror resting just opposite your bed. Unconsciously, you loosened your grip on the shirt and you shrugged the material off your shoulders again, tentatively as if you were being watched while doing so. The dim yellow lamp at the side cast a warm glow across the entire room which seemed to amplify the entire picture: you in the middle of your bed, legs bent at the knees and slightly spread to reveal a little of the thin lace material of your panties that left little to the imagination. You swallowed quietly, falling back against the pillows, eyes fluttering shut. There’d be no going back from this, you knew that, and you knew Travis was well aware of it also. But you could see his face behind your eyes, could easily recall the intensity of your feelings towards him and you heard the pet name he used just moments ago bouncing around in your mind incessantly. It didn’t just make heat crawl along the expanse of your skin. It made you actually throb for him.

“It’s not the usual red lace or black silk, but I could help myself when I saw it,” you admitted quietly, no lie in your words whatsoever. “It’s more memorable. More unique. Kind of reminded me of your alternative jersey, coming to think of it.”

On the other end, Travis sighed a long, low sigh. “You thought about it when you saw it?”

I thought of you, you think, but what you said instead was, “orange and black is a surprisingly good combination. That, and it was also one of the simpler sets. Made for taking off quickly, no hassle.” You could swear you could hear the pounding of your heart in your own ears. “Doesn’t need to all come off, though. I’m a panty pulled to the side sort of person if we’re short on time.” You swallow quietly, pulling in your lips a little to run your tongue across them. “Are we?” you asked quietly.

“A little,” Travis responded after a short moment of silence. His voice sounded a little weak; worn. “Panty pulled to the side sort of person, huh? Wouldn’t have pinned that on you.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures, Travis. Don’t tell me you didn’t at least think about that before,” you encouraged, thighs pressing together. “Wanting someone so much, so desperately that there’s no time to take all clothes off. Push them down on the bed, against a door…wherever it is you are just to get a little taste. I did. I do,” you admitted, turning a little to the side, eyes falling shut, all and any form of shame flying out the window. Might as well enjoy it. “I think about someone seeing me like this, wanting me so badly that that they can’t even bring themselves to take it all off. All it’d take with a little number like this is a pull to the side. It’s fucking sexy. Did you ever think about it?”

You heard him draw in a shaky breath and a moment later, the sound of metal and clothes being fumbled with joined as background noise. You closed your eyes and imagined him in a cubicle, tugging on the buckle of his belt, pulling on the zipper of his jeans, pressing a palm against his length to add that extra bit of much needed pressure. The idea of him growing hard for you, because of you, in a public place was nothing short of arousing.

“Often,” came his response, voice gravelly in your ear. “That time you came along for the party at the end of our summer training camp, I thought about taking you away from all those people to a place where it’d be only us two. Thought about it again a couple of weeks ago when we went out to celebrate that win, remember? I thought, what would it look like if I took you in the nearest restroom, locked it and fucked you in front of one of these mirrors? What would you look like with my hand between your legs? How would you feel like?” he questioned and, when you didn’t respond to him immediately, too caught up in the fantasy he was helping build in your mind, demanded, “tell me”.

Your hand was caught between your thighs, fingers brushing against your panties and there was no denying how wet you were becoming. “’m wet,” you whispered, turning your head slightly more into your pillow while pressing the heel of your hand against your clothed clit, circling it over your panties. “Travis, just… Just thinking about it makes me so wet.”

Travis hummed a small, satisfied hum and you heard him release a low exhale. “Do me a favor, doll. Bring your hand up to your mouth and wet your fingers. Make them nice and slick, okay? It’s what you were doing in your photo, no? Do it properly this time,” he instructed.

You withdrew your hand from between your legs with difficulty and once you did, you whined at the loss of contact. But you were weak for the guidance Travis was giving you and you did as you were told. You brought your hand up to your mouth, taking your index and middle fingers in the heat of your mouth and without hesitation, your tongue swirled around them, ensuring they were as wet as you were told they should be.

All the while, Travis continued speaking in your ear. “Think of my mouth when you touch yourself with them, doll. Think about how willing I’d be to get on my knees for you to get a taste of you. Come on, touch yourself for me,” he encouraged gently. When you removed your fingers from your mouth, you released them with a ‘pop’ sound that had Travis groaning into the phone, the noise sending another rush of heat across your body, goosebumps forming over it. “Panties to the side, doll. Just like you like it, okay?”

You hummed in agreement and did as you were told. You lifted your top leg just enough for you to be able to push the lace aside and when you dragged your wet fingers between your folds, you shuddered, moan muffled into the pillow. With your eyes closed, it was easy to picture Travis kneeling between your spread legs, tongue flat against your core, dragging upwards and downwards in slow languid strokes. You knew your fingers couldn’t compare but the sound of his heavy breathing into the phone meshing with your own breathless, almost restrained groans helped push your fantasy further.

“Bet you’d taste so good on my tongue, doll,” Travis whispered just as the tips of your fingers pressed against your clit, causing you to curl forward a little as a small whimper slips from your mouth. He chuckled, although it sounded strained to your ears. “Right there. That’s the spot I’ll circle back to time and time again just to hear you cry out for it. Quietly though. Remember there’s a bunch of people just outside the room. Can’t let ‘em know what we’re doing behind closed doors, okay? Seeing you so worked up, so wet… We’ll need to keep that for my eyes only, yeah?”

You nodded, belatedly remembering he couldn’t see it so you whispered a “yes” as you circled your clit, adding pressure and removing it the moment stars began dotting your vision. “God, Travis, I wish I could…just want to feel you inside.”

“And you will,” he promised. “I’d want to be inside you too, so of course you will. I’d want to use my tongue first though. Get as much of you in my mouth as possible so that I’ll remember how you taste. You know what to do, doll. Tell me how it feels.”

You did. Slowly, you guided your hand down to the center of your heat, pushing a finger inside you. You did so with ease yet you still sighed in relief at the warmth surrounding you. “It feels so good, Travis,” you sighed, curling your finger upward tentatively and your breath caught in your throat. “Oh god, it feels so fucking good. All because of you.”

You pushed part of your face into the pillow as you added a second finger, slipping it in with ease as a result of how wet you’d become and with every upward push, you rubbed the heel of your hand against your clit. The sensation, coupled with Travis’ heavy breathing in your ear, was heady. Knowing he was on the other end touching himself to a fantasy the two of you shared, knowing you were in his mind as much as he was in yours while doing that pushed you just that much closer to the edge.

“Travis, I’m gonna…ah, I’m gonna come,” you muttered, words leaving your mouth in a muffled slur. “Fuck, I’m so close…”

“You’re doing so well, doll. I want to hear you when you do, okay? Don’t hold back. I need to hear you,” he emphasized.

You were nothing if not obedient at the best of times and this, well this was one of the best times you’d ever gone through. All it took was just a few more thrusts of your hand, fingers finding that right spot and pressing against it continuously while your thighs closed around your wrist for extra tightness and finally, finally you called out Travis’ name followed promptly by an unrestrained cry. Your hips bucked unconsciously against your palm, trying to ride out your orgasm as much as you could and when you slowly withdrew from your core, you brought your glistening fingers up to your mouth. You didn’t lick them clean, opting instead to suck on them so that Travis knew exactly what you were doing. He did. You could tell by the way he let a curse slip from his mouth and when you took your hand away from your mouth, you did so with a satisfied hum.

“Good girl,” he praised, evidently straining.

Whether it was your heightened sensitivity, his words or a mix of both, the same dull white-hot heat crawled across your already warm skin. You allowed yourself an extra moment to compose yourself before the idea struck you as soon as your limbs ceased feeling like jelly.

“I want to ride you, Travis,” you declared pushing yourself on your knees. You shrugged out of the shirt entirely, discarding it somewhere on the side of your bed and pulled one of your pillows lower down the mattress. “Imagine that. I’d be so warm for you, still so wet and loose. Bet I could take all of you at once,” you said, pitching your voice to a more playful though undoubtedly teasing tone. You pulled your panties to the side again before lowering yourself down on the side of the pillow, straddling it. “There’d really be no better time than now for you to be inside me properly, baby.”

“Fuck,” he bit out sharply and you heard the unmistakable sound of him spitting into his hand. And well, wasn’t that a thought?

You chuckled in response. “You’d let me fuck myself on you however I want to, right? I’ll start off slow. You already made me come once, so gotta take it nice and easy,” you told him, rolling your hips gently against the pillow between your legs. Still pretty sensitive, the friction of the cotton made you tremble when you rolled your hips against it, almost losing your balance but you managed to support yourself just in time by pressing your free palm against the headboard. “Ha… I’d feel so good around you, Travis. You know I would. And it’s all thanks to you,” you praised softly, moving your hips back and forth against the pillow. “I swear, I’ll end up thinking of how good you made me feel for days to come. I’ll think of you for nights to come.”

On the other end of the line, Travis groaned. “Only me,” he demanded and there was so much clarity in his tone that for a moment, you thought that was something he meant even outside of the heat of the moment.

“Only you,” you confirmed and knew there would be no lie in that whatsoever. “Who else do you think would get me to fuck against a fucking pillow, Travis?” A breathless, exhausted laugh left his mouth and you leaned forward, resting your forehead against the cushioned headboard. You could feel yourself approaching that very same edge again with every roll of your hip, every brush of the soft material against your sensitive clit and you had to bite down on your lip to hold back a shaky whimper. “Wish you were here though… I’d prefer you underneath me rather than a pillow. Doubt it appreciates the roll of my hips as much as you would, don’t you think?”

“Fuck, I’d be there in an instant if I could,” he agreed, voice tight. You’d bet anything his jaw was clenched, biting back on the back of his teeth.

One thing was for certain: occasionally, Travis made his emotions clear so easily, you could even read him over the phone. A part of you was focused on the way you ground your hips down against the pillow though you paid as close attention to the noises Travis was making; he didn’t deprive you of them. It was only as he hissed into the phone that it dawned on you just how unfair it was you couldn’t also see him. Couldn’t even think of the sort of expressions he was making solely because you knew the reality would just be so much better than what your mind could conjure through the haze of the moment. Frustrated, you rocked your hips against the pillow quicker, eyebrows furrowing a little as you whimpered at the friction. It wasn’t enough. It simply wasn’t enough. If anything, it was only adding fuel to a fire you hadn’t even managed to come close to at least dimming, if even a little bit.

“Travis, I’m close—fuck, I’m so—”

“I know, doll. Fuck, I know,” he said shakily and your name fell from his mouth gruffly, accompanied by a rough, drawn out moan that you knew would haunt you for as long as possible.

You fell forward against the headboard, blinking slowly as you stared down at the disheveled sheets. Vaguely, you could make out a small voice at the back of your head chastising you for needing to replace them even if you’d just changed them earlier in the day. And then, clearly, a louder, more rational voice suddenly snapped you to attention as the magnitude of your actions came at you like a bullet speed train with no breaks to hold it back. You swallowed quietly, heart hammering against the cage of your ribs. The feeling of frustration cleared the heavy post-orgasm fog fairly quickly and you wanted to yell. To scream and wish there was a way to turn back time.

This wasn’t how your evening was supposed to go. You weren’t supposed to be straddling a pillow, half naked with Travis’ heavy breathing in your ear after he guided you through two orgasms. Whatever it was you felt for him should’ve remained locked off in a box at the back of your mind, guarded by the loudest warnings possible so you knew never to touch. And yet here you were, past the blaring sirens, flashing neon lights and spray painted ‘STAND BACK!’ warnings and into a corner of your mind that now had Travis’ moans and the way he spoke your name recorded second by second.

“Fuck,” you whispered quietly, lips pressed against your forearm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Y/N, listen to me—”

“No. What the fuck? Travis, what the fuck did we—did I do?” In a flash, you scrambled off the bed but found you didn’t even know what to get started on. Ripping off the bedsheets? Reaching for the discarded shirt to cover yourself with as if that’d undone what was said and done? “Travis, you promised,” you said suddenly, vaguely recalling his words from earlier. “You said you’ll forget about it.”

On the other end of the line, you could just barely make out the sound of a roll of tissues being spun and then, a few seconds later, water being flushed. “You’re freaking out on me and you need to take a deep breath, okay?” Travis instructed.

You shook your head, to hell with whether he could see that or not. “No, no, you don’t understand—Travis, this shouldn’t have—It shouldn’t have happened.”

“Listen. Listen, Y/N,” he insisted more loudly when you were about to interrupt him. “And I will, okay? If it makes you feel better I can just… I’ll forget about it, okay? It didn’t happen if that’s what you want from me.”

“Okay,” you said, tone neutral. You ceased your pacing but didn’t stop from casting a glare towards your bed as if it was the very thing that pushed you to do what you’d done. “Okay. That’s—yeah. Yeah, let’s forget about it,” you concluded tightly, vehemently trying to deny to yourself that the head you felt behind your eyes wasn’t the telltale sign of approaching tears and rather it was…shame. “Thanks. Uh. Look, Travis, I have to go. I have to… I have something to do.” He didn’t respond for so long that you thought the call had ended. You had to take the phone away from your ear to check the seconds were still ticking upwards and when you noticed they were, you frowned. “Travis?”

“What are your plans?” he questioned, tone neutral.

Nothing aside from stripping my bed bare again and then taking a long, cold shower in hopes of not thinking about how you sounded like moaning in my ear, you thought. What you said instead was, “just”.

More silence. Again, you had to double check the call didn’t cut. “You meeting that friend of yours?”

“Which one?” you asked, genuinely confused and then it dawned on you: Troy. The guy who should’ve been in Travis’ position instead. “Oh. Uh. Maybe…maybe not. It’s pretty late, so…”

“Okay. Good. Yeah, good thinking. Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe don’t send photos like that next time. To anyone. Just in case the wrong person gets them again,” he suggested and there was a certain sharpness to his tone you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It wasn’t a demand, but it sure sounded like it cocooned in a half-hearted excuse. “Can’t be too careful these days.”

You swallowed, teeth clenching. Without thinking of it, you blinked rapidly several times and yeah, there they were. Those tears that’d threatened you only moments ago. You wished you could pour a bucket of ice over your feelings for Travis and wipe your hands clean of them instead of trying to distract yourself from them instead of searching for a convenient fuck and in turn, becoming a convenient fuck.

“I’ll pay closer attention next time, then,” you said by way of goodbye and ended the call before he could get another word in.

Across from you, a framed photo of just you and Travis taken during the previous summer vacation was staring up at you. His arm was thrown around your shoulders, trying to reel you in just a little closer despite the look of disgust on your face while he held up a fish by its hook in his other hand, head thrown back with laughter at your reaction. In two short strides, you lowered it face down on the dresser before rushing into the adjoining bathroom.

Regardless of how well you scrubbed your skin clean of all evidence to what you’d done, there was no soap and water that could wash away Travis’ praise and pet names. Certainly nothing that could remove the memory of how your name rolled off his tongue while at the height of his pleasure.

#travis konecny #travis konecny imagine #travis konecny fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #*#lol i forgot what the tags are #so i hope these work 🙃#aa feistykonecny url o7 gonna miss ya buddy lol #me: i'll re-edit this properly before posting!!!#me actually: *rearranges a few commas* :)

184 notes · View notes

amymel86 · 3 years

Note

Hello! Do you have any bits of your awesome writing to share for WIP wednesday?😍

I just saw this anon!

And thank you for asking <3

This is a bit more of this as yet untitled 'post-apocalyptic/fertility/modern arranged relationship???' fic. The first bit I posted on tumblr is here and as before, some things are not yet decided (like town names) and things may change...

“Are you sure this is what you want to do, darling?” Her mother’s voice on the telephone was a balm to her soul.

Sansa’s finger brushed the soft vivid petals of the small potted iris she’d bought at the store today. The iris symbolises hope, wisdom and courage among other things and she prays that the pretty purple and yellow bloom will lend her some of those. “I’ve got to try something, Mum,” she says, turning her attention to the two separate bundles of paper in front of her. Two men, two candidates, two different futures. Sansa had filled out all the matching service’s extensive questionnaires and scrutinised all the information she could find on the program. It seemed simple enough – you’re rewarded for helping to repopulate. In turn, the authorities help to pair you with someone who should be a good match dependant on all the information they have about you. The aim is that this new generation of children are raised in the traditional family unit. That had appealed to Sansa. “I can’t seem to find the right guy all on my own anyway,” she said into her phone.

“How do you know it will be safe, though?”

“It says here that my situation will be monitored by my own caseworker. I can call them any time I want. They’re not just going to drop me at the guy’s house and just leave us get on with it.”

“Hmmm... tell me about them? These men that they’ve narrowed down for you.”

“One’s called Waymar, he’s a financial advisor here in the Vale,” Sasna pauses, looking at the man’s photograph on his paperwork before fishing out the other. “And the other is called Jon, he owns a farm in the Reach.”

“None in the north then?” Her mother has been itching to get her back home. “I just wish there was a way to know that either of them were good men, Sansa. That’s all I want for you.”

Sansa put the two photos together. Two possible fathers for her child.

“That’s what I want too.”

***

“Shit! Holy fucking shit!” Jon says to himself, hanging up from his phone-call. “Mance!” he yells, bursting out of his trailer to find the old man. “Mance! It worked! It fucking worked!”

He’d relented. When Mance first put it to him that he should sign up for that weird government breeding program or whatever the fuck it was, he thought the old man’s last brain-cell must’ve fried up in the sun. But if they were going to make it easier for them and it meant Mance could keep the farm (and Jon could carry on living there rent free), then it was worth a shot. So he had relented. He’d filled out what seemed to be a gazillion and one questions about himself, his politics, his views on family and finances and education and fucking... art and shit. These damned government people wanted to know everything about him down to whether he scrunched or folded his toilet paper it seemed. He’d even had to lie. He didn’t like doing it, but there was no way that a fertile was going to pick him if he didn’t. So, he fished out an old photograph – one taken before the bar brawl that lost him his sight in one eye, and he’d also lied his asscheeks off by claiming he had ownership of the farm. He knew – he knew – that these lies are just more things that were going to trip him up one of these days but with Mance urging him on, he’d signed that damn form and offered himself up for the program.

And now a fertile had chosen him.

Him.

Fuck, he might throw up.

This can go one of two ways. Either completely up Shit Creek without a paddle – with his lies and reality crashing down on top of one another, leaving them exposed... or, his fertile somehow looks past his deceits and sticks with him and they-... well, shit, he could actually become a father. No-one becomes parents these days, especially not ‘round here. Fertiles flock to the big cities, to men with bigger pockets, or they work for couples who can afford to pay them off in exchange for a kid or two.

“It worked?” Mance asks, rolling out from under an old Ford pickup that needed a new exhaust. “They sendin’ us a peach?”

Jon shook his head. “They’re not sendin’ you anyone, old man. An’ don’t call her that – they’re-“ Fuck, what did the council call them on all that paperwork? “Reproductively abled.” He’ll have to remember that if he doesn’t want to offend her.

“Well, shit,” Mance grins. “What did I tell ya? Knew your pretty face was good for somethin’!”

Jon frowns. “Ain’t so pretty no more though.” He might have to go get himself a patch to cover his milky, sightless eye. It’s fine most of the time since Mance is the only one he sees unless he’s going to drink at Hobb’s, but he certainly doesn’t want to put off his ferti- reproductively abled friend who’ll be arriving in three weeks.

“She got a name? Your new peach?” Mance asked, earning him a glare.

“Sansa. Sansa Stark.”

Mance grunts and nods. “Sounds fancy.”

Yeah... It did sound kinda fancy he supposes. Jon’s first reaction had been that it was a mighty beautiful name, but now he thinks of it...

“Shame we can’t look her up – see if she’s a beauty or not.”

Jon can’t remember a time when that was an option. He was barely 11 at the highest point of the virus’s hold. Government officials had deemed certain channels on the internet were causing more harm than good by spreading false rumours, incorrect statistics and completely counterintuitive medical advice. The whole thing was shut down, now deemed illegal, only to be reconnected again three years later apparently looking like a foreign landscape from the one before. The internet was no longer a platform to socialise, only government approved informative sites remained. Mance says it’s better this way – that all people used to do was post vain images of themselves for attention anyway.

Jon wouldn’t mind seeing a vain image of Sansa Stark right about now though.

Not that it mattered terribly. As long as they get along and she decides to stick around she could be as ugly as sin. In fact, she probably will be, won’t she? Most pretty ferti- reproductively abled women stick to the cities and its high-fliers.

It doesn’t matter, he told himself. You just gotta keep her happy here and-

“Mance?” he asks, an issue coming to mind. The man grunts in acknowledgement. “Where the fuck is she gonna sleep? She’s not gonna want to stay in my trailer.”

The man grins in response. “I’m glad you asked, boy. I’m glad you asked.”

***

Her caseworker was meant to meet her at the train station. It was quite a drive to the farm and he was meant to pick her up, make sure she’s safe and happy and introduce her to Jon.

That hasn’t happened.

“Please accept my apologies, my dear,” Mr Baelish said down the other end of the phone. “There’s been a mix up with my schedule. We can set you up for the night at a local motel or ask your match to come and get you. Which would you prefer?”

Sansa eyes the dirty looking motel across the street from the train station. Everything here at [[INSERT TOWN NAME]] seems a little on the... rundown side. Maybe the sooner she gets to the farm, the better. Plus, her tummy is all a flutter with anticipation to actually meet Jon. She’d wound up swaying towards Jon as a match due to a few reasons; 1 – he does not live in, around, or anywhere near Harry or his crazy mother. 2 – he owns a farm, and that had conjured up hazy daydreams of idyllic country life. Sansa may enjoy big nights out in the city, drinking her dirty margaritas and feeling her bones vibrate against the base beat in a nightclub, but she knows that’s not what she wants to raise a child around. A child will want to run barefoot through wheat fields and chase chickens and milk cows and –

Let’s just say Sansa has a few ideas and that they all helped to sway her away from city pleasures and towards farmhouse life. And Jon

And last, but not least, reason number 3 – Jon himself. Put side-by-side, his and Waymar’s photographs looked rather similar if truth be told, but Jon won out on something that Sansa just couldn’t describe. Looking at his photograph gave her goosepimples along her forearms because it was like he was looking right back at her. There was something in the depths of his eyes – a kindness? A wit? A strength? She’s not sure, but she couldn’t find the same qualities when she stared at Waymar’s likeness. And his answers too. His questionnaire was full of how he’d like to teach a kid how to walk and ride a bike and fix a... a tractor for heaven’s sake! And so her head was flooded once more of this idyllic life where they got up to watch the dawn stretch over the farmland and they’d grow their own vegetables and she’d bake a pie every day and it would just be perfect.

Perfect, perfect, perfect.

Sansa glances around the near abandoned train station.

This doesn’t look so perfect right now.

“Could you please arrange for Jon to come and get me, Mr Baelish?”

***

It’s been an hour and fifty-six minutes precisely since Sansa last spoke to Mr Baelish to arrange her match coming to get her. An hour and fifty-six minutes of sitting on the curb, waiting, surrounded by her three suitcases. She’d started off by sitting at the nearby bus stop, purely because it was somewhere to sit and she had a clear view of the road, but after the rude bus driver insisted that if she’s sat there, she must be wanting to hop on his bus, Sansa decided to park her butt on the dusty, sun-baked curb instead. Her legs were beginning to numb and she was starting to get a headache from the sun beaming down on her head. The curls she’d styled into her copper locks have likely lost their hold by now. What a waste. Opposite, on the other side of the street, beside the dirty little motel, there was a tiny bar that advertised the fact that it hosted exotic dancers at the weekends with a blinking neon sign. Next to it was a hunting and fishing ‘emporium’ and beside that was a vacant store with an old dirty sign that read ‘Blouses & More!’. Presumably, the ‘& more’ still wasn’t enough to keep that fine establishment in business in this funny little town. At the end of the block was ‘Tarly’s Drugstore’ and Sansa had been debating with herself whether or not she should haul her suitcases over to go buy a drink and a magazine for about the last hour and fifty-five minutes.

But she hadn’t wanted to miss Jon Snow’s arrival.

Jon Snow, who seemed to be pulling up outside Tarly’s Drugstore in a dusty Ford pickup truck right about now. Sansa stood, expecting him to come right on over considering how long she’d been waiting for him, but she found herself wondering if she’d got it all wrong when she hadn’t caught a good enough look at him before he darted straight into the store.

Sansa is done with waiting. She grabs her smallest case and places it on top of her larger one, trying her darnedest to roll all her luggage across the road in a lady-like fashion. She could feel the eyes of several passers-by on her while her stiletto heels clip across the street. In turn, her own gaze fell to Jon’s cream-coloured truck. Its front bumper looked a little rusty and wonky too. There was a big gash in the leather of the bench seating on the passenger side. On the truck bed, there were a number of items, including a rocking chair that seems to have a couple of spindles on the chair-back missing, and a new double bed mattress wrapped in clear plastic. Sansa was almost done frowning at the state of the vehicle when the over-door bell of the drugstore tinkles.

“Holy shit,” he curses. And yes, it definitely was Jon standing right in front of her. Only... well... his hair was tied into a knot at the back of his head and.... and... he was wearing a black eye patch? “Uh,” he stood there, arms laden with bottles from the store as the gaze from his one good eye quickly darted down her frame and back up again. “You’re her, right? You’re Sansa Stark?”

Sansa found she could only nod, looking him up and down, like he was with her. He was in jeans with oil smears, some tough, heavy looking boots, a somehow pristine white vest and flannel shirt with the arms ripped off.

Speaking of arms...

Gods-damn! Sansa’s focus was momentarily derailed...

“Sorry, I-“ Jon starts before his grey eye drops to the floor and then returns to her, looking a little bashful. “I didn’t expect you to be so pretty.”

Oh boy. He may be wearing an eye patch right now but this man could win over a thousand girls with that smile, Sansa’s sure of it. She resists the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. She’s here to find out if they’re well suited enough to start a family together – she needs to keep her head and think rationally, not allow herself to be swayed by his rugged country boy charm. It was Harry’s looks that enticed her in the first place – and look how well that turned out for her?

“Thank you,” Sansa says, blinking back at him before his words truly hit home. “Didn’t they give you my photograph?”

Jon shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

Huh.

“Did they show you mine?”

Sansa bites her lip and gives a nod.

Jon grimaces. “So I guess you weren’t expecting this?” He points to his patch.

Sansa shakes her head. “No... did you... did you do something to injure it?”

Jerking his head, Jon begins rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand. “It’s a long story... but... it ain’t gonna get any better, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

“Oh.”

They stood, staring at one another for a heartbeat or five before Jon sucks in a breath over his teeth and glances down to the bottles he clutched to his chest with one arm. “I tried to get you some things to help you feel at home,” he says, “these are the nicest smellin’ soaps ‘n’ stuff from Tarly’s.”

“Thank you,” Sansa replies, knowing full well that she brought her Highgarden Floral Scents bathroom range with her.

Jon chews on his lip as he eyes her suitcases. “Lemme get those for you,” he offers before dumping the bottles in his arms into the truck bed and reaching for her luggage. Sansa’s heeled shoes seem welded to the spot. Jon notices. Scrubbing both hands down his face in resignation, he takes a step closer to her and Sansa realises for the first time, that he had dirt beneath his fingernails. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “It was a shitty thing for me to do,” he offers, his words low and husky. Sansa feels the timbre of his voice set off a trickle of gooseflesh down her spine. “I’m sorry.”

She blinks at him, momentarily confused.

“About this,” he explains, brows high on his head as he points to his patch. “I shouldn’t have sent that old photo of before this happened, but – fuck – even my ex-girl won’t acknowledge I exist anymore with this and I knew I shoulda been honest about it but-“

“This ex-girl...” Sansa suddenly found herself left with a sour taste in her mouth. “... does she still mean something to you?”

Jon licks at his lips, his eye falling briefly to her own. “No, ma’am,” he shakes his head.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #wip wednesday #but late #oops

45 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs