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enwoso · 3 days

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Hi can you write a Lucy bronze x reader. Reader is the shy one of the team and during teamnights and interviews reader is very reserved. With Lucy she isn’t as shy. Lucy helps reader slowly get out her shell (some fluff :))

JUST NOT ME — lucy bronze

*i truly apologise for the lack of posts in the past few days, i’ve had a hectic few days and i’ve been focused on studying so sorry if this sucks — posts will probably be a bit inconsistent over the next few weeks but i’ll be as active as i can<3*

"you excited?" beth asked as the car pulled into the entrance of st george's park, the familiar surroundings bringing a small smile to your face. this was your first call up to the england squad in almost a year, having been out with the dreaded ACL injury.

"i guess" you shrugged, beth shaking her head in amusement. you didn't really know how to explain it, of course you were excited, who wouldn't be happy playing for their country but you were almost nervous, what if you weren't up the standard of others in the group.

"always the women of few words!" beth joked, one you had heard many times as the arsenal girls loved to tease you about how quiet you were but that's just how you were cause not everyone was her.

they didn’t know that you needed a chance to warm up to people before you let them into your bubble, they didn’t know that even though because you don’t say a lot that you aren’t paying attention as you notice every persons small habits they have. cause not everyone was her.

you were a listener and not someone who could sit and chat someone's ears off for ever more than a day like the likes of beth mead and ella toone could do so effortlessly without even realising.

but maybe that's what lucy liked so much about you.

you and lucy had been together just nearing two years now, the two of you had known of each other for a while it wasn't until a night out in london with the lionesses that leah had dragged you to after you had said for days on end that you weren’t going, that you and lucy spoke to each other.

you sitting in the corner of the club, drink in hand as you watched millie and rachel on the karaoke a small smile on your face at their singing which was not the slightest in tune at all.

lucy spotting you sat alone slipping in the booth with you before asking you why you weren't doing karaoke like everyone else, you shrugging at the girls question before she asked you if you wanted to do it with her.

you face going red as you almost immediately shook your head, but lucy being lucy had her mission for the night and that was to get you to do karaoke, and to which she succeeded after sitting and having a few more drinks with you.

and from that night, the rest was history.

you rolled your eyes at beth's comment as she chuckled to herself getting out the cab first, getting her luggage as you followed close behind her, thanking the driver as you headed into the entrance of st george's park.

taking in the familiar surroundings, as you looked around noticing the few changes since the last time you were here.

"i'm not holding these doors open for the good of my own health, hurry up!" beth pointed out, her thick northern accent bouncing off the walls as she was stood in the doorway of the lift, pulling you out of your trace as you hurried to get into the lift. pressing the buttons on the side of the wall for the floor you needed.

you and beth getting out of the lift on the same floor, you noticing your girlfriend as she had her back turned the opposite way, a smile appearing on your face.

beth nudging you, "go on!" she whispered as you said a small bye to the blonde as she walked the opposite way.

"your here!" a voice cheered which you knew all too well, lucy stood at the end of the hallway in front of her room door as you stopped your suitcase at your own door.

you smiled seeing the girl, your smile getting bigger with every step she took closer to before engulfing you in a tight hug. your whole body relaxing in hers, the smell of her perfume that you had missed.

“of course i’m here?” you smiled confused at her reaction to seeing you stood in the hallway. “well the media was saying you were gonna withdraw because of an irritation in your knee” she admitted a small frown on her face at the mention of your knee, knowing how hard and the amount of hours you had put in just to get back to the level you were at just last year.

“baby, you do know i would tell you before i even told sarina if i was going to withdraw don’t you?” you asked her, your hands finding their way up the back of her training top, your girlfriend having been here since early as she’d had an early flight to catch this morning.

“yeah”

"anyways, i've missed you" you mumbled into her neck, nestling your head as her hands fell to your lower back you feeling her smile against your forehead as she kissed it.

"i've missed you too love" she smiled as you looked up with a lovesick smile on your face. lucy pressing small kisses to your cheeks, nose and chin before finally pressing a soft kiss to your lips — which you would be dammed to say that you hadn't missed.

it was hard at times being away from your girlfriend for weeks on end as she played in barcelona and you were playing in north london at arsenal. having to schedule weeks in advance of when you would next be able to see each other.

but it made moments like these all the more worth it.

when you would finally be reunited and be in her arms again. sometime you think the distance made the two of you closer in a weird way as you felt as though you cherished you time together more.

"you coming down to lunch?" your girlfriend asked as she pressed your foreheads together, the smile never leaving either of your faces. you nodded, "yeah, let me just put my bag in and chance my shoes"

lucy hummed as she let you go from the hug, grabbing your suitcase for you as you rummaged around your pocket for your room key, the green light flashing as you pushed the handle down.

the door shutting with a click as you opened your suitcase finding your sliders to slip on, “baby, you got another pair!” lucy whisper yelled, pointing to your pink crocs that you were pulling out of your suitcase as she sat at the end of the bed watching you.

“yeah?”

“so what? that makes it seven pairs you’ve got now!” lucy said exaggerating the amount, as you huffed rolling your eyes as if she didn’t have trainers lined up on her bedroom floor.

“three actually” you sassed standing up and checking your hair in the mirror as lucy pulled a face at you, you doing one back to her.

“now quit your complaining, i want food!” you smiled sweetly at your girlfriend grabbing her hand and pulling her up from the bed as she pecked your lips quickly before you left your room not before checking that you had your phone and key card to actually get back into your room.

walking down hand in hand with lucy to where food was being served, as you filled each other in on the journey here. lucy’s sounding a lot more exciting then your two hour car journey consisting of views of trees and beth chatting your ears off about anything and every.

saying a small hello to others that you hadn’t seen since arriving before grabbing something to eat and sitting on a table just the two of you.

"on sunday, i went for breakfast with my mum and you know all she spoke about was you!" you complained as lucy had a smirk on her face as she put another forkful of food into her mouth, nodding alone to what you were saying.

"that's because i'm her favourite" lucy laughed as you rolled your eyes. “clearly, it’s so annoying-“ you began before being cut off by two blondes joining you at the table.

"how do you do that?" leah asked, directing her question more at lucy than you, as she sat down beth following behind the captain. as the two sat down at the table you and lucy were sat at.

"do what?" lucy asked, confusion taking over her face as she looked to you who shrugged putting another forkful of food in your mouth.

"get y/n to have a conversation!" leah pointed to you as you felt your cheeks go a little red as a small smile appeared on your face, as lucy looked back to the blonde and the two others still not really understanding what leah was trying to get at.

"we always have a conversation?" lucy shrugged as if it was nothing, cause to her it was. you had never really spoken to lucy until she had brought you out your shell. lucy knew you were more reserved when it came to talking to others, you would speak but it would be very few words.

but she wouldn’t change it for the word cause even if you didn’t say anything back she knew you were always listening and taking in everything she was saying.

beth and leah began to recount all the the times they had talked to you and you only ever gave them a one word answer, the two pleading with lucy to tell them her ways.

"really? y/n over here is a little chatterbox!" lucy smiled over to you as you awkwardly smiled at the two not really knowing what to say.

"she's not at shy as she likes to let everyone think she is!" she bumped your shoulder, as you rolled your eyes the sound of your fork tinkering against the plate in front as beth and leah’s mouth hang wide open in shock.

"no i refuse to believe it, how!"

"your just not me" lucy joked, the four of you beginning to laugh as you nodded your head in agreement, "i mean your not entirely wrong"

liked by lj10 and 736,250 others

lucybronze no one compares ☺️

comments -

youruser awh how cute

-> lucybronze no i meant no one compares to me?

-> youruser your ego is sickening at times.

#lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #woso community #woso #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso x reader #arsenal women #awfc #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #barca women #visca barca #lionesses #england wnt #england women #england

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thejujvtsupost · 2 days

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The Red Queen

So this isn’t entirely smut but it’s definitely suggestive so I’ll still say it’s 18+? Anyway, I love this trope of sweet husband! Sukuna so much. I picture this set in a somewhat modern time where he lives in a large castle/estate and rules over land; but it can definitely be read like it’s the Heian era. It’s also my first Sukuna work!

Notes: F!reader, lovesick sweet husband sukuna, period and blood mention, suggestive/light smut throughout, almost oral sex (f receiving), reader is victim to the ridiculous stigma surrounding periods.

Sukuna is familiar with menstrual cycles, it’s one of the reasons he had more than one concubine until now- when he only had you. His queen.

He didn’t mind blood, but there was too much complaining mess and disinterest. He wasn’t going to fuck someone that wouldn’t worship him.

And you were one of them, at least at first. Starting out as a concubine and carrying out some maid duties as well until you quickly became the master’s favorite.

He tried to rationalize his feelings at the time. Maybe it was the way you squeaked when he was inside you for the first time, or the way you rode him… perhaps, and the more likely reason, was how you treated him. You were worthy of being his queen, and dare he say, he experienced love for the first time.

You didn’t look away like the others when you witnessed him covered in blood (even though blood made you squeamish), instead you ran to him to see if he was alright.

“Master Sukuna! Are you alright, did someone attack you- woah!” Your voice wavered when you tripped on your own kimono. Sukuna caught you easily, though one hand facepalmed at your clumsy display when he did.

Okay, maybe you were a bit oblivious. And clumsy. And hopelessly charming. “I am fine. I intend to bathe shortly.”

“I’ll start the water then- oh, or would you like me to find Uraume?” The pout you sported amused him enough to humor you. His other concubines hadn’t been this concerned about him before. You were strange, but not bad…

You also sympathized with him while he took out his stress on your smaller body.

“I should kill him for his insolence!” Was expressed between sharp thrusts, yet you were too overwhelmed to do more than moan and cum. By this time you were the only concubine being called for quite some time, you took the brunt of his anger by yourself, happily.

As you were collecting your clothing afterwards, you went out on a limb that you know could have gotten you killed, but he deserved to be validated: “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, my king. Please tell me if there’s anything I can do to make it easier for you. Good night.”

You were mid bow when he barked out “stay”, is your assumption that he wanted your body again was incorrect. It was the first night you slept in his chambers and you’ve slept beside him ever since. You didn’t question him, you weren’t afraid.

You were happy to stay.

It wasn’t long after that night when he decided you would be his queen.

You were married under cherry blossom trees in the spring.

The plush bed did little to help your suffering. The aching of your womb didn’t stop, and after a particularly painful cramp, the tears were coming.

The arrival to your shared chambers had him concerned, he hadn’t sensed you elsewhere and your energy was drained- yet you weren’t asleep.

(And you didn’t greet him cutely, which he totally wasn’t looking forward to after being away for a week.)

“My love?”

Your pained grumble led him towards you, and as he grew closer he smelled the blood. “Where are you injured? Why isn’t anyone tending to you?” He knelt down to be level with you and brushed the hair from your eyes.

“‘m’not injured, it’s… it’s a girl thing. It’s just really bad this time around.”

“Ah, your menstrual cycle.”

“Sukuna! Don’t just say it out loud! It’s so embarrassing, I bled on the sheets too and Uraume is washing them alone so I don’t crawl into a hole and die. I don’t want anyone to know.”

“Or what? I’ll be smited? It’s just a sign of fertility, that you can carry my heir. Don’t hide, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re always so secretive about it but I know anyway, it’s not a big deal.” He tried to placate you but you burrowed into the blankets further.

“I just feel gross like this, like I’m an ugly mess and it’s so bad this time. I can’t even move without it hurting and I’m frustrated! This is hardly fair.” You winced at another cramp and he tutted at you.

“You tried heat and the usual stuff I’m assuming?” Your pathetic nod was his only response. “Alright lie on your back, I’ll get rid of the cramps.”

His robes were dropped off the edge of the bed and he tossed the blankets back to get to you. “Wait I don’t think I can handle sex right now-”

“Who said anything about fucking you? I’m going to eat you out until you can’t feel anything except my tongue on your cunt. Release soothes cramps.”

“Oh my god, you can’t there’s so much blood! That’s gross-”

A large hand took hold of your face to meet your eyes, “no part of you is gross or ugly or whatever nonsense is in your head. Do not speak of my queen that way, my love. I’ve killed for less and I have no problem spanking your ass raw when you’re no longer menstruating. Understand?”

“Yeth s’kuna” your cheeks were smushed in his firm albeit gentle grip, causing your words to slur. He released you and kissed each cheek, then your lips, lovingly.

“Now, may I continue on? You are free to decline but don’t let nonsense cloud your answer.”

You contemplated, if it would relieve your cramps then… “You can continue, it really hurts though so be gentle.”

Sukuna peeled your clothes from your body and grew level with your hips “As if I’d be anything else, woman.”

Let me know if you guys want more sweet husband!Sukuna, I kinda really like this flavor of him.

Divider credit to @saradika-graphics and @thecutestgrotto

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open! 💗

#sukuna x reader #true form sukuna #reader insert #no use of y/n #light smut #suggestive #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna #ryomen sukuna

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arabellasleopardcoat · 2 days

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To Conquer (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Incest is common amongst Targaryens, Daemon assures you. Unfortunately, Alicent got to you first.

Warnings: Mentions of sex. Cursing. Arranged marriage. Periods. Daddy issues. Religious guilt. One death aside from canon ones (Daemon murders a man)

A/N: In which I rewrite the scene of my first encounter with incest in a book. If you get it, you get it.

YOU NEVER dared call Alicent mother out loud. But in your mind, she was.

The woman who had birthed you had passed away the same day you had been born. Out of her womb you had been pulled, alongside your twin. He had not survived the day.

Queen Aemma Arryn was a mere name to you, a woman who existed in paintings and shadows, a ghost that lurked on the Red Keep. Your father never once spoke of her too you, too consumed by guilt and grief. In fact, he did his best to never speak to you at all.

You were an uncomfortable reminder of the crime he had committed. Robbing a woman of life so a man may live. It hadn’t even worked in the end. Your brother had faded from this world, nothing of him remaining.

Against all odds, you had. You had clung to life, the Maesters would later say. Fought tooth and nail to stay in this world. And somehow, it hadn’t been enough. Your father avoided you like the plague, but Alicent, guilty, scared, lonely Alicent, did not. She was all you had.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror. Despite your dramatic entrance to the world, and your eventful first few months of life, your life had turned out to be quite lackluster. There were no exciting adventures or claiming of dragons, much less a moniker attached to your name like there was to Rhaenyra or Daemon. You wondered why this, out of all things, had to be different.

The robes looked graceful enough on you, you supposed. Your father had called you a true Valyrian beauty, the very image of your mother. You knew it wasn’t true. King Viserys didn’t remember her. How could he, if he had done his best attempts to erase her? He had replaced her at once, and he never once spoke of her again. At least, not with you.

His presence in your life could be defined with one word: Absence. But he had thought it fair to reappear when he needs you to do something for him. The least he could have done would have been asking for your input about the wedding.

If you had been asked, you would have chosen a traditional wedding ceremony, with a Septon and a hand fasting. You would have worn a Targaryen cloak… To be exchanged for another Targaryen cloak. No. Perhaps it had been for the best, not to desecrate such a beautiful ritual with this nonsense.

Still, you couldn't shake the feeling of not being really married. You didn’t like it. And you liked the man who was waiting for you on the other side of the door much less.

“Are you done, niece?” The knock on the door forced you into action, once again. You reached into the basin, watching the cool water shift under your fingers. There was something about the cold that cleared your head, helped you think. You took a deep breath, and tried to focus.

Alicent had told you that you should obey him in all things. That you had to do your duty, just as she had done hers. But you had seen the fear in her eyes when you were getting ready for the ceremony, and how her hands had grasped at you desperately during the feast. It had taken Ser Otto’s intervention to make her let go of you.

Your bedtime stories had not prepared either of you for this. When you were a young girl, plagued by night terrors, she would sit at the foot of your bed and pretend to read your destiny.

“One day, you will fly to the moon wearing spiderwebs as wings.” She would squint at your hand, making a show of reading the lines there.

“Tell me more!” You would squeal, fears forgotten. Despite not being the motherly type, she would always indulge you. Perhaps, because she saw herself in you. Another little girl, her mother dead, her father defined by his lack of presence.

“It says here…” Alicent would tickle your palm. “That you will grow up into a beautiful, beautiful princess who will marry a handsome lord. He will love you very much.”

Out of all the lies you had been told, it was your favorite. Each night, you would ask to hear it again and again, and think, tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow I will be all grown, and the lady of a great castle. My father will love me then.

It had been a consolation you had clung on through all your childhood. You were a princess, worthy of being appreciated by your future husband. He would love you, you knew. You would build something together, something only yours. You would raise your children to be better than you, following Alicent’s example. You would be happy.

You had never realized how much she had clung to that thought too. Her frustrated dreams for herself had been turned into hope for your future. Alicent had spoken them into the night like an enchantment, as if she could bring them to life by repeating the words over and over. So you could have what she hadn’t had. Like all parents wished.

What both of you had imagined wasn't this. You wanted to scream from rage.

“Just a bit more.” You said, your resolve hardening. The faith of the Seven dictated that laying with a relative was a sin, the same for laying with a man who was not your husband. They barely recognized Valyrian wedding ceremonies.

Had you really married him? Your High Valyrian was sloppy. Your mother had not taught you much, and your lessons had often been interrupted because of Aegon. Out of all your siblings, Aemond had been the most proficient one. He had not been present at the ceremony, being judged too young to attend.

It had been your parents, Daemon, Aegon. An intimate ceremony, just as they liked. Could your father betray you so? Give you away as a whore to appease his brother?

You opened the table’s drawers. Daemon’s bathing room was unfamiliar to you, but he must have used something to shave and you would find it. You riffled through various oils and soaps before finding the blade you were seeking.

With your non-dominant hand, you bunched the robes up. Bracing yourself, you used your other hand to slit your upper thigh. At first, you didn’t draw blood, despite feeling the sting of the blade. Your grip was too shaky. But your determination didn’t waver. Your father had asked too much of you already, there was no power in the world that could force you to share your Uncle’s bed.

Your second attempt was much more successful. Despite having tensed the muscles of your thigh anticipating pain, it didn’t hurt as much as you expected. Blood rushed out. You grabbed a rag and rubbed it on it. You examined it, coldly. No matter how Valyrian, you bled red, like any Andal.

You schooled yourself into faux embarrassment before you spoke.

“Could you… Husband…. Could you fetch my mother?”

Despite your calculations, you make the mistake regardless. The noun slips from your tongue, unprompted. A slip. The first of many to come. The temperature dropped in the room, Daemon’s anger a near palpable thing.

“Your mother is dead, niece.” He stressed the last word in a way you didn’t like. Despite the door separating the two of you, you could tell his mood had shifted from bad to something much worse. You feared what he might do to you, were you to backtrack in your plan. “Whatever Alicent has been teaching you, you should know you are not hers.”

“Queen Alicent.” You corrected, annoyed. How did he dare criticize the way she had raised you, when there had been literally no one else around up to the task. How did he dare speak down to you, as if you were a simpleton? You fought to keep your tone steady and stomped on the anger bubbling up. “I have… lady troubles.”

“Lady troubles?” Daemon asked, sounding puzzled.

You pondered the merits of skirting around the issue. You weren’t in the mood to enter a euphemism’s discussion, and so, decided to be more graphic.

The bloody rag was held gently between your fingers when you opened the door. No more words were needed. Daemon cursed and went to get your mother.

HE DOESN’T dare ask at first. Daemon understands that women’s bodies work different from his own. He has never bedded one in her moonblood, and doesn’t intend to start with you.

Despite your beauty, Daemon felt oddly disappointed. He had hoped, with you being fully Rhaenyra’s sister and not half, like his younger nephews, that you would be similar to her.

You weren’t. You lacked her fierceness and the respect for your heritage. The only thing Valyrian about you was your looks. You didn’t even have a dragon of your own, and were so damn timid, he might confuse you with a mouse rather than a Princess.

Because of that same reason, he let you be during your moonblood. While Daemon didn’t object to some blood, he doubted you would be the same. Bedding unwilling maidens wasn’t his thing. He preferred his girls willing, be it from the promise of coin or delirious from their own lust.

Somehow, he was getting the feeling you weren’t going to be the second type anytime soon. Every time he attempted to kiss you, you squirmed away, as if he were initiating something sinful and not simply trying to kiss his wife.

“Seven Hells, would it kill you to remain still?” He asked as you nervously avoided his grip on your waist. “I am not trying to initiate anything. I know you are still on your courses. Stand still. I command it.”

“I… I…” You had looked at him, all hesitant eyes. Alicent had done scarcely any things right when raising you, but at least she had instilled you obedience. But blood couldn’t be denied, and every so often your Valyrian nature reared its head. Mostly, playing against Daemon rather than in his favor. Little dragon that you were, you weren’t keen on following orders.

Ah, but bring you a Septa. Then you were jumping out of your seat to offer the damn woman your chair and observing her earnestly for non-verbal cues, tending to her every need like a commoner. Ridiculous.

“The Mother obeys the Father, from what I understand.” Daemon kept his tone matter of fact. He wasn’t certain that the Seven Pointed Star said that, but it sounded right, and it suited him, so he spoke the words with as much conviction as he could muster. In truth, Daemon had never opened the damn book in his life. A waste of time. The Septons he knew were a bunch of cunts and their followers weren’t any better.

“Maidens are supposed to be demure.” You protested. “Not indulge on indecent displays.”

“You are not meant to be a maiden any longer.” He grabbed you by the waist regardless, coaxing you to stroll next to him. “And wives obey their husbands.”

While you remained unconvinced, you allowed him to lead you around the Red Keep’s gardens. He kept a constant stream of chatter, using all his best lines, but you answered in monosyllables. Not only did Daemon wish to cultivate a better relationship with you, but he also wanted to flaunt his new bride. It was only fair that the other cunts here got a look at Targaryen superiority. Kept them from being too uppity.

Like everything else in this marriage, though, that too proved elusive. Soon, whispers began to circulate about his virility. One of your maids had a loose tongue, it seemed. The whole castle was snickering about it not even a week later. You, like usual, were oblivious.

In a fit of anger Daemon would later not be proud of, he got all the little chits whipped. But their attitudes about your moonblood made him begin to suspect something was amiss. A fortnight of bleeding seemed… Strange. While he was never particularly interested in women’s bodies beyond fucking them, something had to be wrong. An inquiry with the Maester proved him right. Apparently, over a week was unusual, a fortnight near impossible.

That night, he sat on the foot of your shared bed, watching you fret around the room. Daemon had asked for shared chambers, thinking it would bring the two of you closer. With his constant exiles and marriages, and the fact that Alicent had coddled you during your whole existence, you were a stranger with a familiar face. He had hoped to entice you by appealing to your curiosity about marital duties. Safe to say, it didn’t work.

You had put up barriers. Both metaphorical and physical ones. Right now, you were at it again. Laying down a towel on your side of the bed and a pillow in the middle of it. As he watched you, he found himself struck by the beauty of your hands. They were firm and precise in their movements, fixing down the towel and then neatly delimiting your side of the bed with the pillow.

You were wearing the most hideous nightshirt know to man, more adequate for a Septa than a newlywed. Slightly bent over, fluffing up your pillows, Daemon noticed that it was as white as fresh snow. Now that he thought of it, all your shifts were. And yet, none of them had ever been stained. Nor had the towel you placed on the bed and loudly proclaimed it was to avoid leakages. An effort to make yourself more unappealing, perhaps?

Somehow, the realization didn’t anger him. Instead, it made him more curious. Was this your way of rebelling? Were you scared? What went on behind your eyes, inside that skull of yours?

“Wife.” Daemon finally spoke, when you were starting to kneel for your nightly prayers. You paused, kneeling gracefully. You looked up at him, all curious eyes and nervous smile. “Have your courses always been this long?”

This time, he watches your reaction closely. During these past days, Daemon has not pressured you about it. But now, he waits on bated breath.

Your eyes widen. The hands you have clasped in prayer get even tighter pressed together.

“Oh, you shouldn’t… These are womanly concerns.” You are a terrible liar. He would laugh, were it not such a cruel thing to do when in the face of a little fool.

“I insist.” Daemon arches an eyebrow at you. You squirm on your knees like there are ants on your shift. You are visibly distraught. Does it pain you, pious girl that you are, to be committing a sin?

“Yes, they are.”

Another lie. He had asked some of the fools in Viserys’ employment. Yours didn’t last more than a week. But Daemon finds all the twitching you are doing entertaining, and so, decides to give you more rope to hang yourself.

“And yet, your father promised that you were fertile.” He drawls, cruel amusement almost leaking into his tone. He can’t help the way his lips twitch. This is too entertaining. It’s like toying with a mouse before eating it.

“I… I am.” You weakly defend yourself. Your face is looking more distressed by the second. And is that..? Oh, wonderful, you are starting to sweat a little.

“No, you are not. You are either lying about that, or about your moonblood.”

“I am not!” You protest, finally getting up from your kneeling position. A shame. You looked positively delicious in your predicament.

“Yes, you are! But I am giving you a chance to tell me the truth. Which one are you lying about?”

“I am not.” You look about to flee the room, so Daemon gets up and places himself on your path. You flinch a bit, but stubbornly refuse to admit the truth. His amusement at your attitude is starting to turn sour. Not only it is unflattering that you are making up excuses to avoid bedding him, but they are so stupid half the court is laughing at him behind his back about it. And you, absolute fool, can’t admit it.

“Wrong answer, niece.” He steps closer, trying to intimidate you. “I know the truth.”

“You do?” You startle. You take a step back, nearly tripping on the hem of that ugly nightgown. Daemon reaches to steady you, his grip on your arms punishingly. You twitch, as if sensing that you are caught in the maws of a hungry beast that could pounce at any moment.

“You are not on your moonblood. You can't be every single day of the moon!” He shakes you a little, making you yelp. But then, the most astounding thing happens. Because instead of going very still, as the frightened bird that you are, you shove him hard.

“What would you know!” You scream at him, pointing one finger at his face. Daemon wishes to say he is unbothered by your hysterics, but instead, he grabs your accusing hand and tugs it. The delicate bones shift inside his hand, threatening to snap, and you're left with no choice but go towards him or break your finger.

Wisely, you choose the second. You are breathing hard, and looking up at him in righteous indignation.

“Brute!”

“I asked your maids.” Daemon smirks at you, something ugly appearing on his face. In truth, whatever you see spooks you because you deflate a little. “So? Shall you tell me the truth? Or must I find it myself?”

He makes it as if to lift your shift. You bat his hand away, hard. Interesting enough, you harden then.

“What else is there to know? Beyond that I am not on my moonblood?”

“We can start with why you lied. Or why you don’t wish to lay with me.” Daemon suggests, gripping you tightly so you cannot escape. He brings his face closer to yours.

Your eyes are wide. Your face is frozen into a terrified expression, like you are realizing all your lies are catching up to you.

“I didn’t want you to force me.” You say, voice barely a whisper. Who do you think he is? Some sort of monster? Your depraved half brother, perhaps? Daemon had already heard the exploits that one was up to. Jerking off in a window, of all things.

“Force you! If I wanted to force you, I could already have.” Daemon rolls his eyes. You were not trained in any sort of combat, and you were the kind who had her head in the clouds more often than not. You were not a match for him. If Daemon wanted to force you, he just had to pin you down or pull out Dark Sister.

You stay quiet, perhaps coming to the same realization. You have gone to bed next to him for nearly two weeks, only in thin shifts. Every day, you have woken up untouched. Doubt starts to cloud up your face, as if you are noticing how vulnerable you truly have been and how well Daemon has behaved.

As if he were going to be deterred by a little blood. He was a true Targaryen. It was in his house’s words. Plenty of maidens bled when being split open on his cock. Your moonblood would not be very different.

Daemon decides to appeal to your more… Hightower side. Perhaps that would get you to yield to him. He uses his more Otto-like tone, trying to sound as cunty as possible.

“It’s your duty.”

You shake your head, frantically.

“We can’t. It's not right. You are my uncle.”

Your words are spoken with such conviction, he has to fight the urge to scream. That was your problem? You? A daughter of the house of the dragon, complaining about incest?

“It is not unprecedented. Our whole line begins because Aegon the conqueror had his sister wives. And then, Maegor married his niece, too.” Daemon’s words are sharp. He lets go of you and starts to pace the room. Good Gods, what had Alicent done to you? Had she twisted your mind so, you now thought marrying him was wrong because you were related?

“And their marriage was cursed. No child was born out of their union.” You reply, with an ugly smile. He wants to slap it out of your little face. Smug little girl, thinking she knows everything about the world.

“Jaehaerys married his sister, the Good Queen Alyssane. They had plenty of children.” He insists, trying to get you to notice the flaws in your argument. Everyone knew that the only way to preserve the Valyrian bloodline was by marrying other Valyrians. Otherwise, the magic in their blood would dilute, and they would no longer be able to claim dragons. It was common sense.

“All of them turned out very… queer.”

“My parents..!” But you interrupt him before he can finish.

“Exceptionally queer, too.”

Daemon feels his face heating up. No one before has managed to infuriate him so. He wants to shake some sense into you. His hands itch for something to punish you with. Impudent little thing, daring to suggest his parents had been queer!

Queer! The queer one here was you! A Targaryen who opposed incest!

“Listen here, you awful little…”

“Stop that. Stop insulting me, by the Seven. You won’t change my mind.” You raise one of your hands, in the universal halt sign. “I will never share your bed.”

At that, Daemon thinks actual steam must be coming out of his ears. Never. As if. You would change your mind, he knows it. No one can resist him for long. He is experienced, charming, and handsome. A prince and a true dragon. What more could anyone want?

He would make you regret your words. He would show you. Under all your repressed, Hightower ways, you were a dragon. Targaryen blood ran thick. Daemon would have you eating out of the palm of his hand before you could realize. Before, he hadn’t really been trying. But now? He was ready for war.

“Come here.” He orders. You stare at him, and do not move. “You will disobey me in this, too?”

You step closer, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I wish to make a deal.” Daemon says. You cross your arms over your chest. “You don’t have to bed me if you don’t want to. But you will have to give me something in exchange.”

“What?” You tap your foot against the floor, impatiently. Yet your face, as always, betrays you. His offer has made you lower your guard, interested in what he has to say. Probably because you are seeing a way out of this whole issue.

“I want you to let me be as affectionate as I wish with you.”

“Fine.” You snarl at him, trying to look fierce. But you are too new to this game of pretending for Daemon to not see through your mask. You are confused.

He steps closer. He gathers you into his arms, and hugs you.

At first, you tense. Your arms remain glued to your sides, body stiff in his arms. Daemon enjoys the feel of it regardless. You smell like innocence, sweet and young. Your body is soft and feminine, nothing like the hard muscles of his first wife. He allows himself to relax into you.

Eventually, your body sags a bit. You relax into the hug.

“I wish… I wish….” You start speaking, face hidden in his shoulder. Daemon doesn’t let go. His gut tells him that whatever you are going to say, it is important. “I wish I wasn’t ashamed. And that… In our wedding ceremony, I would have liked to know what was being said.”

Daemon’s heart aches. His poor little Hightower, denied of her birthright. And then, a giant grin spreads on his face. Here it was. The opportunity he needed.

“I will teach you.” Daemon whispers, against your hair. He kisses it. It’s a lovely thing, an icy blonde that doesn’t fit your warm personality. Now that you are not fighting him, he is starting to notice you are very sweet natured. “I promise.”

“You will?” You look up at him, wary. “And what will the price be?”

Daemon chuckles.

“No price.” He caresses the bridge of your nose, tracing your features. You seem bashful at the attention, and it is so adorable, he can’t help but kiss you.

You startle. All coltish, you nearly elbow him in your haste to move away.

“What are you doing? We said no bedding!”

“I know.” Daemon smiles at you, indulgently. Now is the time to tread carefully, less you spook, and he ends up losing all his progress. “I just want to kiss my wife. Affection, for the sake of it. Kissing doesn’t need to lead to anything.”

You nod. You don’t seem convinced. But he soon discovers your hesitance comes from something else.

“I have never kissed anyone.” You whisper, almost ashamed.

“Then let me teach you that too.” And he is leaning in, and capturing your mouth with his.

“I GOT you something.” Daemon suddenly says, one morning. You lift your gaze from your book, an historic account about the doom of old Valyria, and watch him with curious eyes.

Your husband is carrying a bundle of cloth on his arms. He is back from his usual shenanigans in the city. Betting and drinking, but no longer any whoring, he assures you. The Lord of Flea Bottom is no more, or so he says.

It is quite early. You have just broke your fast with your mother, after the two of you did your morning prayers together. It is a ritual you find great comfort in, despite Daemon doing his best to discourage you. He doesn’t like that you worship the Faith of the Seven.

He has grown slightly more tolerant of Alicent as time goes by. You cannot say the same for her. Despite the fact that Daemon treats you well, she still can’t seem to get over the fact that he is Daemon Targaryen, the same man who had terrorized her father, courted her best friend and possibly murdered his last wife.

The bundle of clothes moves in Daemon’s arms. You place your book down, and creep closer, wondering about its contents. It’s then that you hear it. A soft, quiet mewl.

A grin spreads across your face. You cross the distance between the two of you, and watch as a small paw reaches out from the cloth, flexing its tiny claws. It is covered in white fur, the cushions on the bottom of it a soft pink.

“A kitten!” You say, delighted. You take it from Daemon and cradle it against you. The kitten can’t be older than a few weeks. His eyes are already open, a cloudy gray that takes your breath away. It’s love at first sight. “Oh, husband, thank you!”

“I saw it when I was coming back this morning. Thought you would like the damn thing.” Daemon says, gruffly. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“I will name him… Quicksilver!” You say, cheerily. It makes his lips twitch a bit, unable to hide his amusement. This week, Daemon has been helping you practice your High Valyrian by reading a more recent text, accounting the times of King Aerys.

The language practice has brought the two of you closer. You are no longer as resentful or scared of him as you once were. You spend nearly all your evenings with him, pouring over gigantic tomes written in the language of your ancestors. Daemon patiently corrects your pronunciation, teaching you the right way of rolling the vocals, and how to accentuate your consonants.

You would have never thought you would enjoy learning so much. He is a very compelling teacher, clearly passionate about the subject yet stern enough to make you do all your assignments before their due date. Daemon is patient and encouraging, willing to explain things to you over and over again until you understand them fully.

The kitten yawns, showing a row of tiny white teeth and a pink tongue. You coo.

“Tiny but fierce.” Daemon smirks. “The Seven preserve us all.”

“How pious.” You tease, and Daemon steps closer. He grabs your waist and pulls you in for a kiss, Quicksilver still in your arms.

Despite having kissed him many times before now, you feel as weak to his advances as you had felt the first time he had kissed you. Daemon kisses like he is conquering, nipping at your lower lip until you open for him, and taking complete ownership of your mouth. His hands grasp at your nape, holding you against him. There is no escape from his kisses, and it fills you with a thrill you had never expected to feel before. Daemon wants you. He desires you, as a man desires a woman. There is no headier feeling than that.

At first, you had thought he was lonely. Why else would he ask for affection, when he was able to ask for anything else from you? That night, when he had found out you had been lying to him, Daemon could have asked for anything, done anything to you. Not a man in the realm would have judged him for it.

His behavior after that only seemed to confirm it. When the two of you were in public, his hands would linger on you, as if fearing you would leave his side. When someone told a funny joke, his eyes would seek yours before laughing, making sure you were still there.

It was an urge you understood too well. Abandonment was something you had learned to fear as well. Your mother had left you unwillingly. Your father and sister had both been eager to wash their hands from you. You guessed Daemon’s life had been a bit like that, too. From what you had heard, his mother had passed when he was a child. Your father had grown tired of him. And your sister… Well. That had been his fault.

When you grew up like that, you clung to every kindness, to every slice of warmth you could get. It was no wonder Daemon clung to you as hard as he did. It was difficult to live like that, not knowing what kindness feels like, grasping desperately to any scraps of it until you can almost piece together what the real thing feels like.

Despite having all reasons not to, Daemon’s attention never turned suffocating. Perhaps, you too, were starved for affection. You had gone your whole life with no positive male attention, being overshadowed by your sister and forced into almost a Septa-like life by your mother. His touches were never beyond the proper attention a man would show his wife in public. It felt almost… fatherly.

As a child, your father had never sat with you, or listened to anything you said. Daemon, instead, seemed to pay close attention to everything you did or told him. He sat for hours with you, pouring over myths and historical accounts, correcting your pronunciation of High Valyrian, teaching you the meaning behind old rituals.

It was as if a door had been opened for you. One you could use to glimpse inside his mind, and your father’s and even Rhaenyra’s. You understood now much more about how they behaved, and why they did. You didn’t necessarily agree, but you understood.

Some confusing feelings had begun to arise with all this new information stuffed into your head. You liked Daemon’s attention. He was charming, and it made you feel good about yourself, being able to keep someone as worldly and cultured as him interested in you. It made you wish, sometimes, to have been his daughter instead of King Viserys’. But at the same time, the way you felt and the things you did with him weren’t the kind of things you imagined daughters feeling for their parents.

When Daemon kissed you, as he did now, you felt your stomach swoop. His skilled mouth made your skin tingle, and all your hairs stand up on edge. It made you feel ashamed of yourself. You weren’t supposed to feel such things for your uncle. No matter how Valyrian, it was just not right.

What made you feel even more ashamed was the fact that sometimes, when he kissed you for too long, the place between your legs would get slick with arousal. You wanted him too, you realized, with the utmost horror. You wanted him like a woman desires a man. A wife desires her husband.

It is then the game starts. Daemon kisses you, and you kiss back, eagerly exploring his mouth and learning how to play his game. You make out with him for what feels like hours, until you feel drunk from his kisses and become as pliant and soft as clay being molded in his hands. It is then that you let him touch you a bit more, push the boundaries your previous truce has set. His hands grasp at your hips, his lips mouth at your neck. And when the edge of your shift starts to ride up, or his lips trail too close to the neckline of it, you jolt out of your stupor.

Shame licks at your spine, grabs tightly at the back of your head. Makes you stiffen under him, body set into a hard line. How can you be so wanton? Why do you behave in such whorish ways? You struggle then, overcome by the embarrassment you feel at your own behavior.

Daemon tries to subdue you. Sometimes, you fold, other times you spend the night tossing and turning on the bed, trying to get the upper hand. Sometimes, he wins, and pins you down on the mattress. But instead of forcing you, he kisses you again and the game begins anew.

You spend the nights like this. Kissing and struggling with anxious violence, until it has begun to replace the act of love. You can tell Daemon enjoys your struggles, the feel of your buttocks against his clothed crotch. You can feel the weight of him against your hip, burning hot and hard.

Eventually, he tires and heads out. You don’t know if he pleasures himself then, or if he just ignores his arousal until it goes away. You prefer the second when it comes to yourself. For hours, you stare at the ceiling, willing the heat in your blood to go away. Sleeps evades you, yet when it does not, it feels even more torturous. You dream of him, of the act, conjuring lewd positions and thoughts, until morning comes, and you feel like you have not slept at all.

This precarious balance could never last. You are not good at the court’s games, having been a wallflower most of your life. You are a stranger to waging tongues, and malicious comments, but Daemon is not. He is doomed to always be the center of attention, this husband of yours.

Someone notices that almost three moons after marriage, you are still a maiden And someone remembers Daemon’s lack of children with his first wife. One plus one makes two.

He comes to find you in the Royal Sept, as you are lighting candles with your mother. He grabs you briskly by the arm and drags you away, the match still alight between your fingers.

“Have you heard?” Daemon asks, breathless. It is clear that he has rushed to you. “What they are saying about me?”

You shake your head.

“How would I?” You are, after all, as isolated as you were before the wedding. Your only companions are Quicksilver, Daemon, your mother, and your siblings. And Aegon is at that terrible age, where he behaves like a little deviant. The others are too young to provide true companionship, Helaena stuck on her imaginary worlds and Aemond not quite a boy, not yet a man.

“They say I am impotent. That your womb has not quickened because I have not taken you. Because I am unable to.” The crude words Daemon speaks make your eyes widen. You have grown protected from the nastier side of court life, forgotten as you were. You cannot believe how someone would dare comment on a married couple’s bedroom activities, which are meant to be one of the more sacred things to happen between man and wife according to the Seven. Much less, how someone would dare to utter such poisonous slander.

“We know it’s not the truth.” You place your hand on his arm, trying to soothe his wounded pride. Daemon is, above all, impulsive. You fear he is about to do something rash, even if you do not imagine yet what.

Isn’t it enough that the two of you know the courtiers are in the wrong? You have felt the press of his member, hard against your hip, in the nights the two of you struggle. You have felt his hips rutting against yours, as his kisses mapped unknown constellations on your shoulders. What does it matter if Daemon hasn’t taken you? How can these people dare interfere, or even mention what the two of you do or do not do?

Shame, once again, grips you in its clutches. You feel your face warm at the thought of how these strangers must view you. Queer. Twisted. You wonder if they blame his inability to perform on your blood ties. If they think the Seven are cursing your marriage, just as they had with the ones of King Maegor.

“It isn’t.” Daemon says, coldly. He walks away, a tense line on his shoulders, and you walk back inside the Sept.

Alicent is still lighting candles. You sense that there are not enough of them to make a difference for what is about to happen.

That night, a disgruntled looking Harwin Strong wakes you up. He tells you how he is there to supervise your packing. You are leaving the city, he explains, to your bewilderment. Effective immediately.

As you place your dresses inside some linens, and ready Quicksilver, you manage to coax the story out of him.

Daemon had been at his usual haunt in Flea Bottom, betting on some cockfights. You could picture the scene clearly. Daemon, lazily counting his winnings with that infuriating smug look he got when he was proud of himself. An angry patron, getting up and on his face after losing to him.

“Maybe that cock will work for your wife!”

The whole establishment erupting into laughter. Daemon, cold smile on his lips.

“Go to your manse, and arm yourself. Because I am going to kill you tonight.”

After that, there was little he could say in his own defense to King Viserys. It had been a premeditated act, in front of multiple witnesses. No way of denying it, or trying to shift the blame.

You stood outside the city gates, observing Caraxes. He looked as done with Daemon’s antics as you felt. In front of you, stood the world.

Daemon strode by, being dragged by Ser Harwin. He was chained, but managed to look as carefree as any free man.

“You know the rules.” Ser Harwin said, unchaining him, before turning towards you. There was a bit of sorrow in his brown eyes, perhaps feeling pity for you. “Farewell, Princess.”

“Where to, Lady Wife?” Daemon asked, cheekily. There was no hint of remorse on his face. It seemed exile reinvigorated him like nothing else.

Your lips pursed into a thin line. You didn’t want to leave. It was scary, the thought of being away from home. The times you had been outside the Red Keep could be counted with the fingers of your hands alone. And what were you to do, friendless in the big world that opened in front of you?

You wanted to punish him. If he was giving you a choice, you were going to give him a lesson.

“To the North. Perhaps that hot blood of yours will fare better there.”

“ARE YOU sure?” You ask him, all pleading eyes. Daemon nods, already sitting inside the hot spring. You are strangely fearful of the warm water, perhaps, having already grown used to the cold of the North.

“If this scalds me alive, I will come back to haunt you.” You warn, turning to face away before beginning to undress. Daemon can’t help but let his eyes linger on your body, despite knowing how indignant it would get you were you to notice. He has promised to avert his eyes, after all.

Naive as you are, you never check to see that he actually does.

He watches as you remove your furs, and unlace your dress. It has taken him quite some effort to get you to feel comfortable enough to be naked in his presence. There might come a day when you are desensitized to nakedness, but Daemon guesses you are still far away from it. He has to keep trying.

You are worth the effort, though. His precious niece, sweet as the Maiden herself and twice as pretty.

“Dragons don’t burn.” He answers, absentmindedly. You are only wearing your chemise and your hoses, and as you lean down to remove those, he gets a perfect view of your cute rear.

“Perhaps. But I am no dragon.” You pull the chemise over your head, unaware of the fact that you are being watched. Daemon drinks in the sight of your naked legs, strong yet delicate, leading up to beautiful hips and a soft back. As you pull your hair up, he notices how the muscles of your arms and back move in a graceful combination that can’t be anything more but a natural gift. He spends a few seconds mesmerized by you, before you start to turn around and Daemon remembers he is supposed to be averting his eyes.

He fixes them politely on the other side of the hot spring, careful to not let you catch him looking out of the corner of his eyes. You are becoming sloppy in your old age, he scolds himself. Daemon can't help it. Lately, he feels more like the boy he once was than the man he is. His attempts at seduction are fumbled, he gets carried away by his passion, a single one of your smiles can render him tongue twisted.

Everything that you do is charming. The slight sway of your hips as you walk, the way your eyes light up when you laugh, but most of all, your personality. Freed from the cage of Alicent’s judgmental stares, you seem to be growing into yourself. Life on the road seems to suit you, despite your fearful nature. Surrounded by strangers, you no longer feel the weight of being judged for imaginary sins.

“You are. Just one with a more…. Fragile constitution.” How he wishes to be able to turn back time, sometimes. Gather the girl you once were into his arms and soothe all the old hurts. Raise you the right way, give you all the attention you had desperately needed and watch you bloom into an impressive woman. You were already a creature of impossible beauty. How much better could you have been, if they hadn’t stunted your growth?

You were too much of a Hightower, Daemon himself had thought once. But Alicent had thought you not Hightower enough, and she had tried to mold you into one, keeping you well away from what she thought of as queer customs.

Who had told you weren't a dragon? And how had they made that awful lesson stick, until you felt adrift, and belonged nowhere?

The sudden sound of water shifting, and you hissing makes him jolt out of his contemplation. Daemon turns his head the barest bit, managing to catch sight of your hips sinking into the water, and the shape of one of your breasts. There is one puffy nipple crowning it, hard and proud and begging to be bitten. He fights the urge to pounce on you, and instead remains sitting on his side of the natural pool and tries to relax into the warm water. Patience is of the essence in seduction, after all. You need to come to him convinced it is your idea.

“Ready.” You say, sounding a bit too close. He turns and there you are, right in front of him. You sit on the shallower end, water covering you to nearly your collarbones. Daemon playfully reaches out with his foot and touches your leg, making you jump. He laughs.

“It isn’t so bad, is it?” Daemon’s voice still carries a bit of mirth. He can’t help it, you have such cute reactions.

“No. Almost like a warm bath.” You fan your face with your hands. Seeing you lose your composure a little, Daemon feels a bit guilty about pressuring you to enter the pool. It’s true you are not as used to extreme heat as he is. He rushes to your side, uncaring of his own nakedness.

“Too hot?” He asks you, wiping away a stray drop of sweat before it can get into your eyes. You mumble something incoherent, so he presses a hand to your forehead. He doesn’t want you to swoon from heat exhaustion, out of all things. But your temperature is normal. It is then he realizes your eyes are fixated on his chest.

Ah. Poor thing. Daemon can feel his lips stretching into a proud smile. Finally, succumbing to your lust. He should press his advantage, but he finds himself hesitating to do so. Despite how appealing he finds you, he understands that you are different. A being that walks the world of the divine and the mundane that skirts the two but was not made for the more carnal things.

Instead, he commits the sight to memory, for when he decides to touch himself. Perhaps tonight, even. It is something he has been doing more and more often. Daemon has found intercourse with whores is nowhere near as fun as laying on the bed, with you by his side, and tugging at his cock until completion.

He is never quiet about what he is doing. Soft grunts and moans fill your chambers each time he does. You pretend to be asleep, but Daemon can tell you are listening. The next day, you turn fevered with lust. It is you who kisses him, who rakes her claws along his back.

There is no consummation yet. But it is becoming clearer than once fully freed from the judgment of your family, there will be.

You sway slightly. Daemon opens his arms, and lets you curl into him. He guides the two of you into a sitting position, placing you firmly on his lap. Your hair falls into a mess of curls thanks to the humidity, up do barely resisting. He fixes it for you, tightening the ribbon keeping it up. Then, he starts massaging your neck and shoulders.

The pleasure of your bare skin under his hands is undescribable. It’s a luxury he has worked hard to get, and for that, tastes even sweeter. Your sweet little face is scrunched up, in a rare show of pain and pleasure. Daemon wonders if it is the face you would make when he spears you open on his cock.

An annoying hardness begins to make itself known in his groin. He feels like a mere boy, getting excited about the smallest touch. You are driving him mad. And Daemon is enjoying every second of it.

Almost as if listening to his inner monologue, you shift on his lap. Something seems to be bothering you. You can’t get comfortable, and you squirm on his lap more than a seasoned whore. Daemon can pinpoint the exact moment you notice what you are squirming on. Your eyes go wide and you freeze. An embarrassed look takes over your face.

He fights the urge to laugh, wrapping his arms more firmly around you and encouraging to rest against his chest. Daemon could spend years like this. Denial is a fun game. Months have passed, and he has yet to grow tired of it, of taking away your innocence little by little.

You lean in. You give him a playful little smile, and you bite, hard. The pain from your teeth blooms on his shoulder, making his cock throb.

“Impudent little thing.” He chastises, softly. “I should spank the defiance out of you.”

You laugh. You have come to realize that he is not as much of a brute as everyone painted him to be, and that he is too soft to make good on his threat. Ever since your argument, Daemon has never hurt you. He likes you too much for it. He wouldn’t force you to bed him, nor would he willingly do anything to upset you. Not even if you announced you didn’t want him touching you ever again.

Was this what love felt like, he wondered? Being happy with just sharing the same air you did, watching you play with your cat, being honored that he was trusted enough to feed the damn thing?

It probably was. But hell, if he was going to let it stop this corruption of your innocence. No. Instead, Daemon grabbed you by the shoulders and bit down on the hollow of your throat, playfully. You made a small sound, like a caught animal. He could tell you were getting ready to succumb to pleasure once more. His hedonist little wife, always ready to be put in a kiss drunk state. You turned liquid in his arms when it happened, going lax over him.

Daemon could tease you some more. Or… He leans in, breathing in your scent, before blowing a giant raspberry by the side of your neck. You shriek in laughter, squirming on his lap. Water is sent flying everywhere. He peppers your face and neck in kisses as you do, laughing st your squeals and squirming.

“Daemon.” You say, after a while, when the both of you have calmed down. Your head rests on his shoulder, expression hidden.

“Little niece.” He whispers, and you tremble at the endearment.

“I have decided something.” You whisper back. Somehow, your voice feels loud in the cave of the hot spring, nothing but the soft murmur of water being heard.

“You have?” Daemon asks, heart thumping in his chest as if he has just taken to the skies in Caraxes. He pulls you out of hiding, lifting your head towards him.

“I want to marry you right.” You say, shyly. You look deeply embarrassed. “Under my faith. So we can…” You trail off, averting your eyes.

“So we can..?” Daemon asks, feeling a triumphant grin spread over his face.

“Have a child.”

And oh, it is the most wonderful thing he has even heard. He will buy you a cloak, and a couple of ribbons for the hand fasting. He will find the two of you a home. Daemon says all this, as he presses his forehead against yours. Not even his conquest of the Stepstones felt as sweet.

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mrsparrasblog · 2 days

Text

You're Losing Me Pt.3 POLY 141 x Reader

TW: angst, mentioned rape, mentioned drug abuse, violence, alcoholism, crying, manipulation

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Wrapped around with a blanket, you lay on the couch singing all the breakup songs you know, pathetically. You didn't talk to your friends, called in sick at work, and haven't left the apartment since it happened. The only thing you had was Winston, the Taylor Swift vinyl on repeat that Johnny gifted you, and a cheap red wine that tasted like ass. You ordered some pizza so that something else keeps you company. When the bell rang, you didn't bother to put on a nice outfit. You went out with your tangled hair, your puffy swollen eyes, and Simon's ratty t-shirt that you couldn’t bother to throw away; it just smelled like comfort to you.

You were surprised when you saw, instead of the delivery guy, Kyle in front of your house. He looked so unlike Kyle. He didn't have that cheeky smile you loved, and his clean pretty boy aesthetic was gone. His white shirt was full of blood, his jaw bruised, and your heart broke. That was your man - was.

"Do you want to collect your stuff?" You asked, it hurt you so bad to ask, but you needed to be strong. You didn't want to be like your mom who stayed with your Dad despite how often he cheated on her. You were strong and independent before you met them, you can reach this again.

"Babe, please."

"Don't do this to me, Kyle," don't make me love you, don’t make me forgive you.

"Can I see at least Winston?" He asked, and that was a thing you couldn't deny. It was his dog too after all. You remembered how you rescued him together from a dog shelter. Everyone else would have said no, but Kyle loved animals just as much as you do. So you adopted that corgi, and you can regret many things but not your loyal dog.

"Come in," you said, not bothering to apologize for the mess.

When Winston saw him, he jumped immediately on Kyle, and this made you smile for the first time in days. "What happened to your face?"

"Got in some fights around the base."

"Kyle, you never get into fights with coworkers. Look, just because we're not a thing anymore doesn’t mean you need to sabotage your own life. Things like breakups happen, and I'm sure you will find a lovely girl." Your heart ached just thinking about them with another girl, all sharing and loving how they loved you.

"Don't want anyone else."

"Kyle."

"I mean it, I love you, and not just a bit. I know you're the right one. Tell me what you want, and I'll do it. Want me to quit the military? Easy. Want to punish me? Hurt me? I don’t care. Want to never touch me again? Fine, I'll live my life without sex just to have you. Want me to marry you? Done. Why wait? Do you want me to kill that slag? I'll do it. You don’t understand it; there is no such thing as too much for you. There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for you."

You were too stunned to speak, but by the look in his eyes, you knew he meant every word of it. He really loved you. But how could you trust him again? And John, you knew Kyle loved John, maybe not as much as you, but you were no one to separate them. That wasn’t fair.

"Let me clean the blood from your nose, Kyle." You stood up, ignoring the things he said, and went to the bathroom, grabbing alcohol and one of Kyle's spare t-shirts, inhaling the scent as you sobbed into it.

"Love—"

"Let me clean you."

He picked you up, sitting you down at the sink, where you slowly cleaned his wounds. Your breath felt heavy every second you got near his lips.

"Tell me you don't love me, and I'll never bother you again."

"Kyle, I can't lie to you."

You cleaned him and gave him his new shirt, but you couldn’t let him leave.

"Kyle, I love you, but I love all of you so much that I can't let you choose between me and John. You love him, I know that, and it's okay. I understand."

"John didn’t cheat on you; it was Johnny."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'd never lie to you. He just knew we couldn’t live without you, and you know how selfless he is."

"I thought he cheated." You started to sob again. "I screamed at him, told him how much I hate him, and he wasn’t at fault." You felt like a monster for your feelings.

"He understands."

"How does he hold up?" You knew John was never someone who shared your feelings.

"Locked himself in the office, drinking for days, doesn’t even speak with me."

"Let me fix this."

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John thought he was hallucinating when you went into his office with the spare key you had. It was too good to be true to see his angel again, but you weren’t real. He needed to stop drinking.

"I'm so sorry, John," you said over and over again, walking towards him, where you sat in your reserved place, on his lap, and slowly removing the glass out of his help. "I'm sorry, John. I don’t hate you, I’d never hate you."

"Cheated on you, deserve it."

"I know it was Johnny."

"Lie."

"Kyle told me."

"Oh."

"Can you forgive me, John?"

"Of course, lovely," he laled and smiled.

"Let me get you in your room, okay, and sober you up." He nodded, and you brought him to his room. You still weren’t sure what to do. Will you forgive them? Will you forgive Johnny?

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

"Lea mah room, slag," Johnny screamed at the medic. He had enough of her and her manipulative acts, how she went into his room and touched him in training. It was enough.

"Don't be so harsh; I'm your girlfriend, after all," she smiled. She was sick fucking delusional.

"Youre nae mah burd ah tellt ye this often enough," he pressed his hands together, his knuckles white from rage. If he was a worse man, he’d kill her on the spot. But he needed her to make a mistake, so there would be proof of her lying.

"Not so aggressive, Johnny, this isn’t good for our baby."

"Are you mental? There is no fucking baby. You raped me three days ago. Aren’t you supposed to be a medic and know how this shit works?"

"There will be, and then we'll be happy."

"You're sick. This will never happen."

"Oh, there will, or you know I could tell anyone how you raped me and dared to kill me after your girlfriend found out."

"No one will believe you."

"They will."

And there was a knock on the door. He left her in the room, telling her it was probably only a rookie. He was surprised when he saw you. Even though you looked broken, you were still the most precious thing in his life. He wanted to hug you, tell you the truth.

"I know it was you, Johnny," you started to cry you never thought Johnny would do such a thing to you."

"Hen, please."

You hugged him tight, which caught him by surprise, but he held you through it. "Tell me why, Johnny. Please, let me know what I did to deserve this." His heart broke with every word you said. He desperately wanted to explain to you that you could never do anything wrong in his life, but the shame ate him up. Would you understand? Would you believe him?

"Tell me you won't do it again, Johnny. Tell me you regret it, that it didn't mean a thing. I'll forgive you, please, Johnny."

"Look, hen—" But before he could finish his sentence, the medic left the room wearing only one of his shirts.

"What are you doing here? I thought you’d broken up with that bore."

You noticed the shirt, the ruffled hair, and the bracelet you gifted Johnny that she wore. "Johnny, why is she wearing your shirt? Why does she have my bracelet?"

"Love, don't believe—"

"Oh, you're not only a bore, you're also dense, aren't you?"

That was enough to finally break you. You walked away, screaming at Johnny that he should leave you alone, running into Simon on your way out.

"Luv?"

"Stay away from me, Si," and he respected your wish, giving you the time to heal you need. He finally found Johnny in a screaming match with the medic. When she saw him, she gave Johnny a peck on his cheek and left with a sly smile.

Johnny was never a man to cry until that day. He didn't know how his life went so downhill in a few days.

"Johnny?"

"Go away, Lt."

"Johnny, tell me what's wrong."

"You wouldn't believe me. No one would."

"Let me decide that. Let's get you in your room and talk." His heart broke seeing Johnny like that, and he knew whatever it was, he would fix it for him.

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sc0tters · 3 days

Text

Feelings and Fears | Luke Hughes

summary: sometimes it’s better to hide your feelings, until it’s not.

pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader teammate

warnings: drinking, swearing, most scenes take place in the future.

word count: 3.51k

authors note: okay so this ended a lot cuter than I thought it would! there was a lot of writers brain rot in this so it’s not my favourite thing but I really hope it ended up better to read in the end. Feels like I haven’t written for him in FOREVER but it’s only been two months so… also this was a different style I wanted to dabble in so lemme know if it worked or not cause I’m really on the fence.

Have you ever felt like someone is meant to be your person?

Where the world suddenly made sense when you looked at that person? And like your heart was only ever meant to beat for them from that moment on?

That was how Luke felt about you, his perfect dream girl that he needed to have captured in his focus. Yet the only thing that made the desire that much harder to obtain, was the sheer condition of you hating Luke.

Yet that wasn’t always the case, in fact, you were excited that he had come onto the team as you were no longer the rookie on the squad.

September, 2023

Luke grinned as he saw you approach him “Hughesy!” You laughed holding onto Dawson as you ended up at the bar wanting a new drink “hey guys.” Luke had been nursing the same drink the entire night.

You placed your glass on the table “you keep her safe?” Dawson asked Luke as he nodded “yeah I’ve got her.” You were clearly drunk and Luke was never going to turn down getting to spend time with you alone.

Dawson gave your side a squeeze as he left you “happy birthday.” You mumbled realizing that you didn’t say that to him yet “thanks teddy.” It was a random nickname that he had come up with after the video came out of you in a giant teddy suit when you scared the boys.

What you didn’t notice as you looked for the bartender to usher him to make you a new drink was how Luke was looking at you. Sure you had always been pretty but tonight was the first time he had seen you all dressed up “you know you didn’t have to come tonight.” Luke also knew all about how Friday nights were your time watching shitty reality tv shows to fill your time with and you loved it.

But you pursed your lips together as you looked back at him, only now aware of how close he was to you “it’s your birthday, wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You weren’t going to mention that part of the reason why you were there was because Jack was paying for the bar.

His eyes sparkled and before he knew it he dropped his head down to be level with yours as he pressed his lips against yours “wait.” It seemed like your entire body sobered up in that moment as you pushed your hand against his chest.

Luke felt his heart drop as you pulled away “I’m so sorry.” He went to apologize after seeing that his ounce of confidence was stupid and that his guts desire to stay away should have reigned supreme.

But you shook your head “don’t worry about it.” Yet you were so worried about it as you worried that your teammates had seen it “I’m gonna go.” You added, leaving him with red cheeks and silent as he watched you go.

May, 2024

That was now months ago and the two of you hadn’t spoken since. And now it seemed that the world was trying to serve him the ultimate fuck you as you did everything in your power to avoid him.

At most uttering phrases of “move,” or sometimes just having to sent him a glare that left him sliding out of your way before anything could have even been said. It seemed that your relationship was one where you two were barely teammates at that point, the chemistry on the ice had diminished further dwindling whatever was left between you both. The other players picked up on it but as Luke begged them to stay out of it as he still drowned in the embarrassment of your rejection.

But now as it was Jack’s turn to play the role of birthday boy and that meant that you were then forced to be the one place you avoided, Lukes turf. By only being in places with him before that you knew first meant that you had the places to hide, the exits, everything you needed to hold onto for some kind of comfort was now gone after you hadn’t been there into Jacks apartment in over a year. And you stupidly thought that the night would go down with ease.

Yet as some girl found herself obnoxiously on his arm when you arrived, his eyes found yours as he sent you a soft smile as you seemed stuck where you were. Why was it that months on from muttering more than a sentence to him as you swore you could only hate him after he tried to make a move on you, but you were now almost thrown off guard when he was with another woman. You thought you had him written off, that he was a sealed page.

But you could feel the glue ripping at the pages when you watched her whisper something into his ear that made him laugh as he wrapped his hand around her waist “you good?” Nico snapped his fingers in front of your face as he stood with a drink for you.

Your cheeks quickly reddened as you assumed you had been caught “just perfect cap.” You nodded as you pulled the bottle from his hand and quickly took a large sip from it.

In all the time he had known you, not once had he ever seen you flustered “so are you just getting hot stood watching Luke and Daisy?” His tease made her roll her eyes as she flipped him off.

The captain patted her shoulder “you might want to stop staring then.” He trailed off before he left you.

You hated how he was right but you couldn’t shake the weird feeling in your stomach. It had your feet glued to the ground and you felt sick watching the moment between the duo as Luke kissed her head, yet your eyes refused to go anywhere else.

December, 2025

The next year had you instead distancing yourself from Luke for that feeling. You knew it was stupid but after your return to the garden state, you swore you were going back to disliking him for what he had done. Life would have been so much more straight forward if that was the reason why you disliked him.

Yet the moment you two realized your lockers were next to each other, the pit came right back into your stomach. Luckily now you were no longer watching Daisy appear at every event which made you think that maybe you could get through the season quietly.

Yet all of that seemed to come to a halt when the universe decided that it wasn’t good enough for them. You and Luke ended up injured at the same time with his being his collarbone and yours being your ankle.

Your heart was broken after going from the prime of your career and being on par to almost double the last seasons points, to now wondering if you were even going to make it back in time before the end of the season “can I get another?” You called out to the bartender as the news felt like it was best to respond with drowning your feelings in booze.

That’s how you ended up on your fifth brandy and coke in the hour “you got a way to go home?” The other older boy flashed you a look of concern as you turned your phone over “yeah I got her Joey.” The voice sent a shiver down your spine as you looked up.

It was the first time you had seen Daisy in months, she was looking great with her shorter hair and darker hair color that enhanced her features “can I sit?” Her voice was softer as she flashed you a smile.

All you could do was nod as you wondered why she was talking to you “was sorry to hear about it.” She pointed to your cast as she sat down “yeah it was pretty shitty.” You sipped at your drink hoping that it would bring her silence.

But instead she tucked her hair behind her ear “I actually thought that it would finally make something happen between you and Luke.” The words came as your blood turned cold slowly setting your drink down as you tried to keep your cards close to your chest “Luke always tried to deny it but I know he’s in love with you.” She continued on unaware of how you raised your eyebrows.

Daisy was able to speak freely as nobody else was there on the Tuesday night now that her friends had gone home “at first it was something I thought I could ignore but then I saw how you looked at him at Jacks party and knew I might have been his but he wasn’t mine.” Her defeated voice made you grow sorry for her “nothing ever happened-” you tried to push potential cheating concerns away but she raised her hand to stop you.

Her eyes went to the door as someone came into the bar “maybe it’s time you let something then?” She offered as she squeezed your hand before she got up.

You stared at your drink wondering what she meant because she left before you had the chance to ask “you know you’re gonna regret this tomorrow teddy.” Luke sighed as he took his exes seat.

Life felt as if it was getting worse as his eyes burnt your skin “look I can get myself home.” You went to grab your keys but he was all that much quicker than you “you even hop in the drivers seat and Nico would have my head.” The youngest Hughes boy shook his head as he noticed the red Pom Pom that was on your keychain.

Silence gushed over you both as you stared at the table “please just let me drive you home so I know that you’re okay.” Luke’s voice oozed this sense of desperation as his thigh pressed against yours “lemme finish my drink.” One drink became two before it became three as you were delaying the inevitable.

Luke was grateful he had brought his own car as he had no clue where you had parked yours “just sit up f’me okay?” He asked as he helped you into the passenger seat “you’re pretty.” You mumbled as his curls dropped into his face when his hands brushed over your stomach with the seatbelt.

The words made him smile “you are pissed.” He softly laughed to himself as he shook his head trying his hardest to not let your words make him feel like a nervous teen boy “but not wrong.” You shot back as he shut your door quickly making his way to the drivers side.

You couldn’t help but stare at him, taking in the side profile that you spent so many nights thinking about even if you were meant to avoid it “got something on your mind teddy?” Luke didn’t take his eyes off of the road as the red light from the stop illuminated his face.

Your body leaned against the center console as you licked your lips “you are mean.” You confessed making him raise his eyebrows “how so?” Maybe it was wrong to entertain your drunk ideas, as you were more than likely to not remember them in the morning, yet with this being your first proper conversation with him in months he wasn’t going to let it slip through his fingers.

The gentle hum of the cars engine soothed your mind “it would be so much easier to avoid you if you weren’t so nice.” It was true, every time you snapped you always felt that one part of you feel guilty for letting the words hit the boy “could mean I wouldn’t like you either too.” The second part came out as barely a whisper but still it was almost enough for Luke to crash his car.

His eyes widened as he swore he must have misheard you, but when the hoot came from the car behind he knew this was no dream “let’s talk about it in the morning.” Luke shook his head as he used every fibre of his being to push his feelings for you down.

He got with Daisy to forget you and that never worked as the boy would constantly dream of it being you that he would wake up next to this isn’t my apartment.” You furrowed your brows as you turned your attention to see his apartment building “figured it would be a whole lot easier getting you to sleep in here.” He explained as the team was on a roadie and that meant that Jack wasn’t home.

Part of him was surprised to not hear your complaints or any type of argument so he turned to just see you fiddling with your bracelet, he hated seeing you be quiet but fearing that he would ruin the moment of rebuilding a friendship he kept his mouth shut. It was so much easier to do that even as he helped you up the stairs and eventually sat you on his bed “you okay with these for bed?” He asked as he handed you a devils training tee and most shockingly a pair of your black gym shorts you swore you lost.

Luke sensed your surprise as your fingers ran over the label that you had signed “realized that you left them here and then never found the time to give it back.” He explained as you had complained once after a party at the Hughes apartment when John spilt his drink onto your lap ruining your white jeans. After that you always had a pair of shorts that lived in Lukes closet “god I was a bitch.” You brought your hands to cup your face as you groaned letting the good memories between you come flooding back into your brain.

He was quick to crouch down and pull your hands away from your face “we will talk in the morning once you’ve gotten some sleep.” He held his pinkie up to you as he nodded “okay.” You mumbled locking your finger with his before you watched him turn to the door.

Your hand tugged through your hair “where are you going?” You tried to not sound too concerned but he smiled hearing right through it “to sleep on the couch.” Luke spoke in a duh tone, surprised when he watched you push yourself to your feet and almost fell forward with the momentum.

For the second time in the night you were left grateful for his reaction times as he held his hand out to catch you “either we are both on that couch or you are in your bed.” It seemed to be the most sober line you had said the entire night as he could see that you were deadly serious.

Luke felt like he was left at a cross roads when he sighed “you promise not to kick me in your sleep?” He asked as you smiled “only if you promise the same.” You nodded taking it as a victory.

Slumber consumed you quickly as your head hit the pillow and you were gone but Luke struggled to get sleep most of the night, scared he’d wake up and you’d be gone letting it all go back to how it once was. Eventually he did fall asleep and when he woke up you were indeed gone. The side of your bed was cold even as the scent of your perfume was still in the sheets “god you would think that your brother would own a less complicated coffee machine.” You scoffed to yourself walking back into the room with a coffee for you and a tea for him.

Luke’s messy hair made you smile as his eyes took in the sight of you, once to make sure it was actually you stood there, and a second time to notice that his shirt looked massive on you “morning sunshine.” You teased as you handed him the drink before you took your seat next to him as you handed him his mug.

The gesture seemed to screw with Lukes mind and he was so desperate to know what was going on in your mind before he misinterpreted anything “when you said you liked me.” He began as he stared at the murky liquid “did you meant it?” He trailed off when he looked to you for an answer.

It made your throat grow tight setting the mug on the table next to you “yeah.” You nodded as Luke couldn’t help but scoff ‘then why’d you pull away!” He may have not gotten over that incident in the bar as much as he thought he had.

You picked at your nails as you tired to find the right words to tell him how you were feeling “because I’m a woman in the NHL Luke.” You sighed letting your eyes drop to the cast on your foot “fans already think I slept with someone to get onto this team.” He had seen the hate that was sent your way more than once assuming that you had slept your way into the league, especially going as a first round pick in your respective class.

He chewed at the inside of his cheek “and you come from a family of three great NHL talents.” You turned to see him staring right at you “it would be a sprinkle on your career but could ruin mine.” You continued on seeing him remain silent.

Luke ran his fingers over his face “so I thought it was easier to act like I hated you because I could get over it.” You sucked at your teeth and you nodded “but then Daisy came into the picture and I realized I didn’t just think you were attractive but actually thought about you romantically too.” At this point you were silently begging for him to shut you up and take over the conversation so that you could go quiet “I am gonna go.” You announced almost dragging yourself out of the bed.

That seemed to do the trick when he placed his hand on top of yours stopping you where you were “I want you more than this career.” He blurted out making your cheeks go red as he shifted closer to you “Luke you have your whole career ahead of you.” You shook your head knowing that he was just saying what you wanted to hear.

But when he sat up straight his eyes looked darker than you had seen them before “and I would go retire right now if it meant I could have all of you.” Luke’s voice was flat as his thumb ran over your lip “if we do this the world can’t know.” You weren’t being rude but you knew it was what would be best for both of your careers.

He nodded softly “it’ll be our little secret.” His voice was soft as he let his lips graze over yours when he slowly opted to test the waters. As you didn’t pull away the Hughes boy smiled letting his hands grip at your waist bringing you back onto the bed.

February, 2030

Luckily for you both, you were able to keep your NHL careers as you were traded to the Islanders a few months after you started dating and Luke ended up at one of your playoff games as the devils had been eliminated in your jersey. Of course it was the one from your time with the red team but your number had stayed the same and it meant he got to proudly have your name etched onto his back “Teddy wait for me!” You groaned as you pulled your duffel bag from your car.

Your three year old was too excited to care though “I wanna see daddy!” She cheered as she clutched the Canucks teddy that she had gotten when she accompanied you on the west coast road trip as he was on a road trip of his own “I know but remember he might be sleeping.” Your words brought a scoff.

Luke had been waiting at the door to the elevators the moment he realized you were close “and miss the chance of seeing my favorite girls?” Luke’s tone was almost amused as he flashed you a grin “daddy!” Teddy ran to him when he crouched down opening his arms to pull his daughter into a hug after he hadn’t seen her in a week.

Her excited squeals brought a smile to your lips as Luke smothered her face with kisses “now don’t think I forgot about you too.” Luke saw that you were still in the same place that you had been in before “then I think you should come over here and show me that, Mr Hughes.” You teased making your daughter smile as she saw Lukes eyes slightly sharpen.

“Well you of all people should know how I handle a challenge Mrs Hughes.”

#luke hughes imagines #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes oneshots #luke hughes x reader #lh43 #Amber writes fics #hockey imagines #hockey oneshots #nhl oneshots #nhl imagines #oneshots #imagines

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polyo-nym-y · 2 days

Text

Desserts, Served.

[Bon Appétit Pt.2]

————————————————————

Alastor x Female Reader

[What to expect/Warnings: NSFW MDNI!!Blood, begging, P in V, you get restrained by his tendrils, soft ending, dirty talk, idk its tame for how I write Alastor LOL]

[Part 1 Here]

[Link to full drawing here]

Hello! Oh my goodness I am just utterly speechless by the positivity within this little horny community!

Thank you to everyone who liked my first post and who commented wanting a part two. This is for you guys <3 I’m sorry it took FOREVER to finish but I was nervous about disappointing lol.

But I needed to get this posted cause I have SO much planned for the future >:3

————————————————————

You watched as his long fingers hook under each suspender, slowly slinking them off his shoulders. He sent a toothy grin down to your disheveled form. As if the red of his eyes were literal hell-fire, you felt his gaze rake over your body, heat quickly following wherever they went. “What do you say, darling, are you ready for dessert?” His voice was low and heavy, the sound settling in your ears but you were unable to process what he exactly said. Your own rapid heart rate was all you could focus on as you tried to calm yourself down from the overdose of dopamine you just experienced.

A chuckle rattled from him as he reached a hand out, talons holding your chin to direct your gaze at him. His ears twitched as he cocked his head to the side, staring into your wide and glossy gaze. “Hello~? Still with me? I don’t recall eating that tongue of yours.”

Your head was foggy from your release and eyes too focused on how beautiful he looked right now. The room was dark save for the soft lighting of a lamp on a far table. His eyes glowing ethereally and his smile softening around the edges.

Alastor leaned, pressing his hips further against you. The feeling of his clothed hard-on against your exposed flesh was more than enough to wake you from your dreamy state. Glancing down trying to see him pressed into you. “W-What?”

“I asked you a question.” Pinching your chin his claws dug in slightly, trying to get your eyes back up to his. “It’s not a proper meal without dessert, you know.” He hummed a tune you didn’t recognize as he leaned back and away from you. “But if you’re full-“ He physically withdrew himself from you, reusing the same manipulation tactic he used earlier.

Just as he hoped, it brought panic to your eyes. Once again the idea of losing his touch rocked you to your core, literally. Suddenly realizing how cold and empty you felt without him and his addicting touch. The exhaustion you once felt melted away as you pushed yourself up from resting on your elbows. You lurched forward, fingers yanking Alastor in by his shirt. Crashing your lips into his you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him into you, ensuring he couldn’t back away any further.

He watched with wide eyes for only a moment before he quickly melted into the kiss. One arm wrapped around your waist to press you flush to his chest. His other hand came to hold you by the back of your neck with a firm pressure.

His half-lidded gaze never left you as he swiped his tongue over your lips, asking entrance. To his dismay, however, you instead pulled away from him. His long fingers tightening at your neck as you struggled to pull your lips from his, his own hunger and greed showing.

You slowly slipped your eyes open to find him already staring at you. Having leaned away from his lips just enough to ghost words across them. “I’ll never count a meal as satisfying until I’m feeling stuffed.” You could feel his grin grow as he narrowed his eyes on you. “And I’m famished.”

Once again you felt the air around you grow heavy. Static began to prick at your skin as it buzzed in your ears. The lamp flickered in the background as the entire room grew darker. “Oh, Mon Cher…” his words were so heavily filtered you could barely hear him, the static began to rise further. His claws danced from the back of your neck as his hand nestled to your front. His large palm gripping you by your throat as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I'm going to fuck you stupid.” Instantly, blood rushed to your cheeks. He dropped the innuendos and the shock from it had you frozen like a deer in headlights.

You felt him tighten his grip around your throat, lips parting to gasp air instinctively. The room grew dark, too dark, as the space was completely shrouded in shadows. The only presence was Alastor, his glowing gaze seeming brighter than before. His little antlers began to grow above you. Perhaps, you thought, you were indulging him too much.

Fear flooded your senses as he drew himself up from you, stature taller than before. Suddenly, you were being thrown down against the desk by your throat. Body tensing as you braced for a hard impact of wood and vintage radio equipment. Your hands flew to grip his wrist as you were thrown back. But the pain you expected never came as instead a plush softness enveloped you. You blinked, darting your gaze around as the shadows withdrew, allowing light back in.

The sound of a zipper and a rattling laugh snapped your attention back to Alastor. He loomed over where you laid on the edge of a soft surface. “Oh ho! You should’ve seen yourself just now!” His shoulders bounced, his genuine laughter had you squeezing your thighs together. “Fear looks good on you, my dear.” He’d coo over you.

Confused, you glance away from him as you begin to crawl backwards, you turn your attention to the room. Realizing you were no longer in his radio tower. Instead, you were resting on a soft bed in a familiar room, your room. “Wha-” You turned back to Alastor squinting up at him. “Oh, fuck you! You think you’re so funny?” You tried to keep the playful squint but you couldn’t stop the smile that wanted to form.

You pushed yourself up into a sitting position, eyes glued to the open zipper as he untucked his shirt. The bed dipped as he stalked closer, his knee settling on the mattress. “I know I’m funny, darling.” You had just barely caught a glimpse of his dark happy trail before you came face to face with Alastor, who had crawled over to you. One black palm settled flush against your chest. A devious smirk returning to his features as he pushed you back down on your back.

A huff of air left your lungs as you were knocked down. Eyes scanning over his face as he situated himself above you. As you felt his hands pry your legs open at your knees, you let out a scoff. “Tch yeah…funny-looking..” you would taunt under your breath.

He quirked a brow at you as he sat on his knees between your legs. “Ha. Ha.” One of his hands worked on removing his bow tie whilst the other flicked the bite he left on your inner thigh. Chuckling when you flinched and yelped in reaction, the wound still raw and tender.

Your gaze lingered lower as he began popping the first few buttons of his shirt open. “You know? Maybe I should eat that naughty tongue of yours.” When your gaze snapped back up his bones cracked, antlers reaching out like dead tree limbs. He fell onto his palms as his large body caged you against the bed.

A nervous smile crossed your expression as that similar fear rose in you. But it wasn’t typical fear, no, this feeling was something raw and instinctual. The fear a prey would feel when cornered by a predator, with a sprinkle of lustful anticipation. Your body tensed under him as one hand grabbed your jaw, fingers that somehow grew longer squish your cheeks forward. “You’d miss it.” You’d mumble out with your lips being forced to purse.

“I don’t know, my dear, you can still moan without one~“ releasing your face, his hand trailed down between your breasts and settling on the softness of your stomach.

Your breath caught in your throat as you heard it before you realized what he was doing. Goosebumps littered your skin at the sound of ripping fabric. “Alastor!-“ a gasp of his name left you. He tore your nightgown straight down the middle and sliced the remains of your underwear that clung around your waist.

“I would, however, miss that.” His eyes fell from yours and followed down the dip of your breasts.

Just as quickly as you went to cover your exposed chest did his shadow-y tendrils appear. Multiple jutted out from his back as they wormed their way towards you, slipping around your wrists and tangling all the way down your elbows. You fought against them at first but they were stronger than you, as they yanked your arms above your head pressing them into the bed. Your back arches as you weakly struggle against his hold, mostly just testing him. But your body freezes as you feel something hot and hard smack against your pubis area.

One hand holds his exposed cock at the base where it pokes out from above his pants. A toothy grin as he watches you jolt with each smack of his swollen tip against the hood of your clit. The mere sight of him had your arousal re-awakening, needy cunt clenching around nothing.

“C’mon.” He slowly pumped his cock, spreading the precum that eagerly dripped from his tip. “Be a good girl and tell me what you want.”

Your jaw clenched at his vulgar request as you felt your whole body flush. Though your eyes never left the monster he held against you, swallowing nervously as your lips parted slowly. You found it difficult to ask for something so depraved. Not to mention you were growing more nervous at the realization that when his body grew larger, everything grew.

He saw your hesitation, and usually he’d take time to enjoy your dismay and embarrassment. But right now? He needed you completely and he was done stalling.

Lazily he rubbed his cock up and down your slit, mixing his pre-cum with your slick. When he saw your face contort he moved with more intention, his cock twitching in his hand as he rubbed against your clit slowly.

“Please..” you pleaded meekly as your eyes rose to meet his. The look he sent down to you sent a tingling feeling through your body. There was such a deep hunger in them that you were certain he was just as desperate for this as you were. The thought of The Radio Demon nearing a breaking point to have you? That had a small smirk forming across your face. You felt him twitch and throb against you as soon as you smiled.

“Alastor, Please.” His grin strained as he watched a cocky glint appear in your eyes. “You said you’d fuck me stupid. Aren’t you a man of your word?” You stretched as much as you could as you rolled your hips up against him. “Or is the scary Radio Demon a-“

A growl interrupted your taunting, a choking gasp leaving you. Without warning he thrusted into you with his hands shifting to grip your hips. Thankfully, you were thoroughly lubricated. However, you were not prepared for the burning stretch you felt as his thick member fought against your tight walls. Tears welled in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling and you were shocked to see he wasn’t even halfway in.

Trailing claws scratched down your tense thighs as his hands cupped under your knees. In one quick movement he had your knees pressed against your chest, ass lifting from the bed slightly. With this movement alone you felt him slip in just a little more, were you panting? “To think I ever planned on being gentle. You don’t want gentle, do you?” His glowing red gaze flickered as darkness flooded them. The air in the room began to tingle and prick at your skin as his filter grew heavier once again. Something that you were noticing indicated a strong surge of emotions coming from Alastor. As if what he felt was so heavy it practically oozed from him, sticking to your skin. You tried to control your breathing but he was making it difficult in more ways than one.

Tears slipped down the sides of your face as you tried to blink away the blur they caused. Trying to focus on Alastor who loomed above you like a monster. Body unnaturally large, grin spread tightly across his face and his dark eyes spun with red dials at their center. That confidence to poke the bear melted away quickly as you tugged at the tendrils around your arms. But they only responded by pressing your hands into the bed further. Your lips parted to try and frantically babble some weak reply. But any words you planned on saying were distorted into a yelp-like scream. With a sudden snap of his hips he buried his ungodly length into you, sinking to the hilt. Through bleary vision you saw the shape of him pushing up your stomach from where it reached deep inside of you. For the first time in your afterlife you thanked God you were dead, knowing well that Alastor did not intend on going easy on you.

Just as you thought, he did not give you the luxury to adjust. His claws dug into your skin where he held your legs. All you felt was the intense fullness, unaware of the small cuts his hands left as blood slowly began to drip down onto your chest. Gritting his teeth he fought against your tight hole to wrench himself out before snapping back into you. The force of it involuntarily rips a moan from you as your eyes roll back before slipping closed altogether.

Like a well trained dog your eyes snapped back open, missing their momentary rest already. Your obedience won, however, as you instantly looked up to him at the sound of your name. A sweet staticky purr rumbling from him as he spoke. “Eyes on me, Mon Cher, I want to witness your descent into madness.”

Your heart fluttered and he sucked in sharply as he felt you clench around him. How did he manage to be so alluring whilst being so demonically horrid? Perhaps that was a fault on your part and your questionable desires.

“Hm~? You like that?” His voice, the air, your body and his body on yours, everything felt heavy and hot. The heat of it all coated your skin in sweat as you felt your thoughts literally melt away into pathetic puddles. Panting, trying to will your body to grow accustomed to his size, you couldn’t do anything but look up at him with pleading eyes. “The thought of me corrupting you? Ruining you?” You felt warmth slither under your back as more tendrils worked their way to you. Pushing your lower half up from the bed completely as he contorted you. He shifted, sitting up on his knees as he buried himself deep inside you. The lifted angle had you seeing stars, swearing that he’d pierce through your womb completely.

You choked, spittle running over your lips as he rutted into you. He started a deep and focused pace. Laughing sadistically at the sounds of your choked out moans and the squelching of your cunt. Tendrils replaced the hold under your knees as they held your legs open wide for him. Talons now free to rake up your body as he enjoyed your quivering response.

“P-Please-“ you wheezed out between gasping breaths. “T-Too much-“ despite your pleas, you both felt how eagerly your walls twitched around him. Your cunt had a firm grip on him, making it difficult to even pull out for a shallow thrust. Even with the slower pace you felt that coil begin to twist in your stomach.

“What do you mean, darling? Did you not say you wanted to be stuffed?” You bit your bottom lip, trying to hold in the cry you wanted to let out. Your own hubris has come to bite you in the ass, like it often does. All you could do is whine, meekly shaking your head. “You poor little thing. Have you gone stupid already? Because despite what that mouth says- down here?” Another deep thrust rocks your whole body but he doesn’t pull back. Grinding his hips down into yours so roughly you swore your bones were bruising. “Down here is begging for the exact opposite.”

“F-Fuck- please-” Somehow he managed to grind right into your sweet spot. His breathing became ragged above you as he felt his last little bit of restraint leave him. A static hiss left him as he drew his hips back only to drive his cock roughly back in. Frantics pleas tumbled from you as you were begging for your second release.

“Say it-” his thrusts were hard and fast as he fucked into your cunt, chasing his own pleasure. “Say my name- fuck,” his filter dropped as your ears were blessed with his raw voice. At some point more and more tendrils leaked from him as they wrapped around you, their warm grip flexing with every thrust.

He had you completely bound by his tendrils, forced to be nothing but a hole for his cock. His hands were so tight on you and right now he could care less if it hurt. Alastor watched you wheeze under him as he grew frantic and sloppy with his thrusts. As one of the shadows slithered between your bodies to lovingly rub against your clit, you felt your orgasm come to its cusp. You screeched his name like a dying animal as every muscle in your body tensed. His thrusts became shallow and deep as your cunt spasmed around him. Your second rush of dopamine settled over your body in waves as he continued fucking you through your orgasm.

His hips stuttered as he panted out a laugh and brought a hand down to grab your face. Keeping your head still as he bore into your fucked-dumb eyes, watching them widen as he reached his peak with a grunt. Your legs spasmed and a deep warmth flooded your abdomen as he pumped his cum into you. Your release tipped into overstimulation as he didnt stop fucking into you even after cumming. “My sweet girl.” A long moment passed before he finally slowed his assault. Coming to a full stop once he saw your eyes fully glaze over as he knew he was losing you again. His chest rose and fell rapidly as each tendril slowly left your body, gently lowering you back onto the bed. “Youre my sweet girl, right?” He wanted to see if you were still listening.

You blinked through tears as you watched his body shrink back to its original size, albeit still large compared to you. You nodded up to him slowly and winced when he removed his claws from where they dug shallow cuts into you. His smile was soft as he slipped himself out from you. He couldn't stop his eyes snapping down to watch his seed seep from your lips.

A silence fell between you as you laid there trying to lower your heart rate. Your eyes watched him as he cleaned himself up before tending to you. His touch was much gentler on you as he scooped you up to tuck you under your blankets. As your mind began to clear you began to worry- was your deal just for one night? “Alastor?”

He hummed a response as he looked you over. He saw that familiar fear, the fear of him leaving. An amused sigh left him as he settled into the bed beside you. “Hush now, dear, you need to get some rest.” He snapped his fingers to turn the lights off before pulling you into his chest. “Afterall, I intend on sharing many more meals with you.”

You felt him bury his lips into the top of your head as your anxiety melted away. Within the dark you wore a soft smile as you let your eyes close. “I’ll hold you to that.” All you felt was comfort and warmth as you let yourself drift to sleep to the sound of Alastors heart.

————————————————————

[Tags for those who asked for PT. 2 <3: @saturn-alone @lustylita @karmakillz @saint-altruist ]

#alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #the radio demon #alastor x reader smut #alastor x reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader

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chericherrybaby · 2 days

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I’LL PICK YOU UP ON THE WAY HOME

Summary, Jealous ex-boyfriend, Harry picks you up from a party after a last choice call was made from you.

Warnings, Jealous Harry?

This is so many words and not much dialogue. Enjoy the first of many!!

…

Harry was an ex you hadn’t spoken to in almost two years.

He was someone you had loved very much at the time, he was just a little bit too protective over you at the time, which is not what you had wanted as a 21 year old girl who’s friends loved a party.

You had never ridded his contact of your phone, it felt strange since he had been the first number to go in it after you had gotten it with him. Plus, he had never done anything wrong and you felt slightly bad for ending things the way you did.

You hadn’t been together that long at the time, you had told yourself hundreds of times, trying to rid the guilt you had whenever one of your girlfriends would tell you how miserable he was.

It was terrible that one of your girlfriends was dating his best friend, and you were a main source of topic for their entertainment.

You had thought about calling him as soon as your date had pulled up to the house, you could hear the music booming atleast 4 streets away and the place looked crammed with 17 year olds, a weird place for a 25 year old to take you on a first date.

He had led you inside the house, letting you follow his heels, greeting almost everyone that was in his path.

Your first red flag was a girl coming up to your date, who was unfortunately named Chad, you’d heard it all from your girlfriends already, and him hugging her with his hands a bit too close to somewhere they shouldn’t be.

This had made you pull your phone out, scroll down to the very bottom of your contacts and send a quick message to someone who may not even answer you, you’d been so lucky he hadn’t blocked you already and you were so grateful.

You sent a quick “hey” and hoped the recipient didn’t hate you as much as you hated yourself for texting him.

…

About an hour later, the party felt a bit dull compared to when you had arrived, everyone feeling lulled on the couch from everything they had drank, smoked and consumed in many other ways.

Including your date.

You had never been happier to feel your phone ringing in your back pocket and feel the excitement yet dread when your screen read “Harry Styles”

“Hello” you said sounding a little ashamed, making your way to sit on the front porch away from the booming music and the yelling of party goers who were still feeling their high.

“Hey” he replied sounding a little too groggy for you liking, like he’d woken and immediately called you “Why’d you text me? Thought you wanted nothing to do with me”

You felt your heart pang a little at this, but you could feel the hurt in his voice also “I’m at a party with a bunch of high schoolers. I need an escape”

“Gonna need more than that to get me going Y/N” he’d never sounded so irritated to you, but you also understood. The first time you’d texted him in almost two years was for an excuse to leave a party.

“Please come get me, i’ve basically been ditched and none of the girls know i’m here” You sighed feeling so ashamed you were doing this”

Harry ended the call. You waited, hoping he was still the sweet boy you had met 5 years ago.

…

10 minutes later, Harry’s car pulled up outside of the house. You jumped to your feet, jogged over to the car and placed yourself in his passenger seat

“Thank you so much Harry” you looked at him, your eyes pleading for his to meet yours.

He hummed in acknowledgment.

You sat in silence for 5 minutes while Harry drove in the direction opposite of your apartment, He came to a stop when he came to a quieter road with houses all using dimmed lights. He turned the car off and placed his hands in his lap.

“What are we-”

“Why have you done this to me Y/N? You know i’m still so utterly in love with you. So you text me at 11am a shitty message saying ‘hey’”

“In my defence you’re the one who called me, you could’ve ignored my message and blocked me, you can’t blame me for your lack of self control”

You heard harry chuckle quietly to himself, that’s when you realised you’d said something that maybe you shouldn’t have.

“What are you even doing at a party full of children, you’re 23 Y/N” Harry finally looked at your face, your red cheeks prominent and wasted makeup.

His heart broke knowing after he dropped you home, you were gone again and there was nothing he could do about it.

“I was supposed to be on a first date, but instead he drove us to a high schoolers party. Basically touched up a girl right infront of my face, then got pissed and probably even high while letting me fend for myself when these are people he knows”

Harry slightly laughs to himself, but tires to cover it up by slapping his hand over his mouth. “You sure know how to pick ‘em”

“Picked you. You’re alright” You remarked back and Harry’s head quickly snapped back up to you and slightly glared at you “Sorry, that was really mean”

“I really fucking hate when you go on dates, y’know. Makes me so cross knowing ‘yer going out with all these shit guys when i’m right infront of you”

It’s like he was on his needs begging, pleading for you to love him. Tearing his heart out of his chest ready to give to you.

“You’ve always been such a jealous prick” You smirked at him and he couldn’t help his lips curling up into a smile.

“Hard not to be, look at you. You’re insane and i had my chance and fucked it with you, Cause i was scared to lose something i wanted forever”

You sighed and reached over to place your hand on top of his, he flinched away slightly. You curled your fingers around his hand and held it tightly.

“I love you” You admitted shamefully “It never went anywhere and i think i may just be slightly ashamed that i ended something so good just for what? To get drunk and dance around at a party full of strangers. When i had you waiting for me with open arms no matter the time i came back”

Harry shifted in his seat and moved towards the centre console of his car, you kicked your shoes off and sat cross legged on his passenger seat. Turning towards him, being able to see his face fully.

“You infuriate me, you know that don’t you” He says moving closer, close enough you could feel his breath of your face.

Swearing you can heart his heart beating out of his chest.

“Can you please” You thought for a second, were you making the right decision? Telling him you wanted him all over again, when you feared you may be slightly high from all the fumes in that house party.

Harry hummed gently “What would you like, Angel? Anything for you. I swear” His eyes flicked down towards your lips but quickly returned to your eyes.

“Kiss me” you practically begged him.

His lips crashed onto yours, his hands finding your jaw and cupping your cheeks while you sat in, what felt like an isolated area.

Kissing a man that you thought was just madly possessive over you, instead he just wanted the world for you, and you were the world to him.

#harry styles one shots #harry syles one shots #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles social media #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you

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apas-75 · 2 days

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I know a lot of people got attached to a lot of ideas about how the Vader scene would go and are wondering what the point of it was if he didn’t even speak, and so my answer to that is: because it’s not about him.

That moment is not about Anakin Skywalker, his feelings about Barriss Offee, or Barriss Offee’s feelings about him. Anakin-as-Vader does not give a shit about her, which is to say he hates her the same way he hates everyone he meets. He puts the blame for Ahsoka leaving him squarely at Ahsoka’s feet, and hates her for it, wants her dead for it. Barriss doesn’t matter to him any more than any other Jedi he knew before the purge does. (If there’s any tinge of personal feeling, it’s more adjacent to satisfaction at seeing her stuck in the same despair trap as him than anything else.) And Barriss doesn’t have a clue who he is.

So: The point of that moment is that Barriss sees that she’s kneeling to a Sith Lord. She sees that things are so much worse than she had ever feared. She sees that she’s completely lost control of her life.

And in that moment, she cannot see the way out. She feels small and afraid and everyone she loves is dead and the entire oppressive structure of the Empire is bearing down on her and saying: If you want to live, this is what you have to be. This is all you can ever be. If you step a foot out of line you’ll be dead and it won’t even do anything to help anyone.

Later, when she gets back out in the galaxy and sees again the effect she can have on people, she’ll rekindle hope within her and see the way out. There was simply NO universe where Barriss “friend to all children” Offee could ever have been an Inquisitor past the moment where she actually had to fulfill the duties of one, and the whole point of this failed attempt to force her into the Inquisitorius was to show that was true; whether she ended that first mission dead or as another rogue Jedi on the run, she never would have been what the Grand Inquisitor wanted her to be.

But right then? Now? Kneeling to Vader, knowing that she’d be dead before she could even draw the new red lightsaber on her back—the one that she hates and that hates her back because she was forced to profane it herself?* When the Grand Inquisitor has kept her isolated and provoked her over and over again so that when she finally lashes out to defend herself he can tell her that’s who she really is? There’s nothing she can do. There’s nothing she can do.

That’s her lowest point. That’s the only moment she ever really was the First Sister.

(*Kyber crystal bleeding is the kind of thing that only really hits if you're a huge turbonerd about the star war lore and know how it works, so I get why they skipped over it onscreen when it's really just a more abstract metaphor for what she was forced to do in the pit fight, but given that we know Iskat and Reva both made theirs themselves there's no way they didn't make Barriss do it too.)

#tales of the empire #barriss offee #star wars #tales of the empire spoilers #tote spoilers #thank god this wasn't week to week bc the week between devoted and realization would have been THE WORST #also yes I'm putting footnotes under a readmore god I am so fucking pretentious

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puck-luck · 4 hours

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a new birthday tradition | jack hughes

warnings: extreme domination, spanking, spit kink, cockwarming, hair pulling, overstimulation, dirty talk, praise, degradation (a bit), established!relationship pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader summary: fem!reader proposes a new birthday tradition to jack (based on the request: "jack hughes spanking and spit kink pls") wc: 2787

“Birthday boy,” you sing-song, tracing Jack’s nose.

Your touch rouses Jack from his nap. He was sleeping on the couch, waiting for you to come home from work, having fallen asleep from boredom. It’s normal for Jack to fall asleep in the middle of the day, so this little touch has become part of your everyday routine.

“Hi, babydoll,” you greet when Jack blinks his way awake.

He finds you in his eyeline and sighs, the corners of his lips turning up. “Hi,” he says, voice thick with drowsiness.

“You know what I was thinking about today?” You ask, smoothing back Jack’s hair. He nuzzles his face into your palm, dropping a kiss onto your skin.

“What?”

“There’s a birthday tradition that I thought you might like.” You wiggle your eyebrows. “I was thinking we’d put a little twist on it.”

Jack cocks his head to the side. “What is it?” He asks, voice wary. He immediately thinks of the first time Quinn told him that his birthday cake smelled like something but he couldn’t figure out what, and Jack leaned down to take a sniff, and Quinn shoved his head into the frosting. He’d rather eat a birthday cake than shove his face into it.

You drop your head so you’re whispering in his ear. “Birthday spankings.”

Jack pulls away from you, looking affronted. “You’re not spanking me.”

You roll your eyes. “Duh, dummy,” you drawl. “When have I ever been the one to spank you? Obviously, you get to spank me. One for every year you’ve been alive, plus one for luck.”

“Oh,” Jack replies. “Yeah, that could be fun.”

You roll your eyes for a second time. “Could you be less enthusiastic about it? You love my ass. You love spanking me. ‘Yeah, that could be fun?’”

Jack shrugs. “I prefer to spank you when you’re being a brat. This is, like, a gift.”

You blanch. You stare at him. Jack stares back. You blink at him slowly and set your jaw, your mouth straightening into an annoyed line. Wordlessly, you rise from the couch and pull your blouse over your head, drawing Jack’s eyes to your lacy red bra and the swell of your breasts. His hands twitch in his lap and he raises one to set it on your hip, to pull you back down to him, but you step out of reach.

“Where’s your sling?” You ask, toeing off your shoes and kicking them away.

“In the bedroom where I left it,” Jack says, snarky. He hates the sling. The angle causes his arm to fall asleep and he hates the numbness. It’s not like he’s moving his shoulder or hurting it any more– he’s going to rehab and PT, working with the best trainers in the NHL. He doesn’t want to wear his dreaded sling on his birthday.

You take off to the bedroom, returning shortly after with Jack’s sling. You hold it out to him with an expectant look on your face.

Jack groans, but puts it on nonetheless. He glares at you once his arm is properly situated in his sling, his arm already prickling with discomfort. “You know I only have to wear this thing for like two more weeks,” he points out begrudgingly. “And the doctors said I don’t have to wear it all the time.”

You unbutton your pants and lower them, again drawing Jack’s eyes to the matching red thong you wore today, planning for him to see you like this. “That doesn’t mean you can take it off whenever you want,” you tell him. “We decided that you’d wear it when you weren’t doing anything. You’re sitting on the couch. You’re not doing anything.”

“I was napping.”

“‘I was napping,’” you repeat, mocking him. “What if you had laid on your arm wrong and set yourself back a few weeks?”

Jack’s nostrils flare at your words. “I didn’t.”

“Yeah, but you could have rolled over in your sleep. I don’t want you to have to miss out on pre-season stuff because you were reckless with your shoulder, Jack.”

“I don’t want that either, Y/N. But I’m also not a child, I know when I’m pushing myself too much. You’re being overbearing.”

“I’m trying to take care of you.”

“You’re acting like I’m helpless. I’m not fucking helpless just because I had surgery.”

You rejoin Jack on the couch and his eyes find your cleavage again, but he tears his gaze away from your breasts in order to continue this argument.

“You’re the one who pouts about your shoulder whenever I’m around to try and get attention from me. You can’t have your cake and eat it, too,” you argue.

With each one of your statements, you play Jack like a fiddle. He said it was easier to spank you when you were acting like a brat, so act like a brat you will.

“Yeah, but you know when I’m just trying to get attention. You play into it every time, don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”

“You’re so fucking stubborn.”

Jack glares at you. “You only say that because you’re losing this argument.”

You lean forward, “accidentally” pushing your breasts together for Jack to see. He gulps, eyes flickering down then back up to your face. He tries to steel his face, but doesn’t do a great job.

“I’m not losing this argument,” you scoff. “You know I’m right. You’re just being difficult because you hate the sling. If I called your doctors right now, they’d tell us that you need to wear the sling more often.”

You move forward again, this time crawling over Jack’s lap until you’re sprawled over him completely, ass up for him to see.

Jack’s free hand palms one of your cheeks, resting on the skin. His thumb barely touches the lace of your thong where the fabric disappears.

You throw a glance over your shoulder and offer Jack a dazzling, smug smile. “Was that bratty enough for you?”

It dawns on Jack that you’ve goaded him into this, his hand itching to teach you a lesson still, even though it was a fake argument. He grins, letting out a little laugh. His head drops with the laugh and he pats your ass, frustratingly gentle.

“You got me, huh?” He asks.

“You’re so easy,” You reply, giggling.

Jack slaps your ass for that, barely a spank.

“That's one,” you tease. “Twenty two more.”

Jack closes his eyes and tries to bite back a smile. He tilts his head back, resting it on the back of the sofa. “Plus one for luck,” he adds. “Don’t forget that one.”

“Oh, how could I forget,” you say. You raise your hips and wiggle them invitingly, drawing Jack’s eyes. “You should punish me for it.”

Jack brings his hand down on your ass again, harder this time. “So annoying.”

“That’s two.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jack laughs, bringing his hand down again.

You don’t– you continue to count and moan and each time you make noise, Jack spanks you again. His hand moves more harshly with each drop. Your skin slowly grows more and more red, starting to match your red underwear. It grows sore, but Jack doesn’t stop spanking you until he reaches the 24th. You’re a moaning mess, whining and squirming in Jack’s lap, eyes wet with unshed tears by the time Jack blows cool air over your skin. All of your wiggling over his lap caused him to grow hard while administering his birthday spankings, and he knows that if he brought his fingers down to your cunt, he’d find that you’re soaking through your panties.

Jack pulls you up but the straps of your bra, the elastic snapping back against your skin when he lets go. You arch your back and whimper, climbing onto Jack’s lap to straddle him.

Jack smiles, wiping the wetness from your eyes with his thumb. “How do you feel, pretty girl?” He asks, bringing his thumb down to toy with your bottom lip. He moves it and, like a puppeteer, mimics your voice to speak for you. “So good, you always give me exactly what I need, I love you soooo much, Jacky.”

You laugh wetly, pushing his hand away. “You’re such a loser.”

Jack furrows his brow, humming in a disapproving way. “Now that’s just mean. Maybe I should spank you some more.”

You pout, glaring at Jack. “Yeah, and make me bleed? I don't think so.”

“How about this,” Jack muses. “Wanna give me another present?”

You nod, fingers tracing his clavicle.

“Get on your knees.”

Jack helps you down, kneeling prettily between his legs. You sit back on your heels and look up at your boyfriend, waiting for his next move.

“Go ahead and take me out, honey,” Jack encourages, lifting his hips so you can work his shorts and underwear down his legs. His cock springs up and bounces back, pretty and weeping from his arousal. You go to take him in your mouth, but Jack stops you. “No, no. Warm me. I'm gonna watch a little TV and if you’re good, I’ll fuck your throat.”

You melt, feeling yourself grow so warm and wet that you might honestly drip onto the floor if you get any more turned on. You go to take Jack’s cock in your mouth, but he stops you again, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. You look into his gaze for a moment before his eyes drop to your mouth. You open your mouth, waiting for Jack to feed you his cock instead of taking it yourself.

Instead, he drops a line of spit onto your tongue and closes your mouth. You swallow, eyes wide and blinking up at him. It’s humiliating and so good, making your head a little foggy and your knees spread a little wider.

Jack’s eyes find your knees against the floor, your wet cunt. He purses his lips, smiling with his tongue against his front teeth, looking devilish. He knocks a pillow to the floor with his slinged arm, eyes hooded and daring.

“Pick that up,” he tells you.

You move like a machine, grabbing the pillow and ready to put it back up on the couch, to cushion his injured arm. Jack uses said arm to block you.

“Why don’t you put that between your legs,” Jack suggests, voice bored. When your eyes go wide and you freeze, staring up at him, Jack smirks. His voice drops, low and seductive. “I see how wet you are, baby. I’m giving you something to grind against while you warm me. It might not be my cock, but it’ll be good enough, right?”

You could come on the spot, feeling lost. With aborted movements, you place the pillow between your knees and press down on it, eyes fluttering at the friction.

“Good girl,” Jack praises. He fists his cock and taps the head of it against your lips. “Open up, baby. Let me take that dirty mouth.”

He thrusts his cock into your mouth, waiting until your throat adjusts around him to grab the remote and flick on the TV.

You stare up at him, breathing through your nose. You rest your head on his thigh, the downy hair of his legs tickling your skin. You crinkle your nose, but keep your mouth fastened around Jack’s cock. Jack smiles down at you before turning his attention to the TV, placing a hand on your head and running his fingers through your hair absentmindedly.

He knows what happens when he tangles his hands in your hair, especially when his cock is in your mouth. It drives you to start moving your hips against the pillow, eyes fluttering when the seam of the pillow catches against your clit. You’re trying to keep your head still around his cock, but it’s hard to do when you’re chasing your own release.

Jack’s fingers tighten around your hair, tugging at the roots. You moan around him, the vibrations traveling up his cock.

“You can’t even last five minutes before you move, huh, baby?” Jack asks. He puts on a mask of disappointment, spurring you on when you open your eyes and plead with him.

Your hips move faster, the pillow good but not quite enough to satisfy you. You whine, blinking up at Jack. Still trying not to move your mouth, you flex your tongue against him.

Jack licks his lips, eyes trailing up and down your body. He’s taking you in, the way your cheeks are flushed and your hands are grasping the pillow beneath you, the way your hips are dragging in tilted bursts, trying to maintain the pleasure of your clit hitting the item between your legs. Jack bites his lip as he looks at the wet stain that you’ve left on the pillow.

He gathers your hair into a ponytail, twisting the locks in his hand and pulling. You let out a cry of pleasure, losing track of your volume, too overcome with pleasure. Jack’s pull tips you toward orgasm, your hole flexing around nothing and feeling neglected and empty.

“Jack,” you moan, his name garbled around his cock.

The uninterested look in Jack’s eyes contrasts the slight smile on his lips as he pushes his hips forward into your mouth, then pulls back. He starts to fuck you slowly, but quickly loses his control when you bring one of your hands up to his thigh, fingernails digging into his skin.

His lip curls with a hiss, his pace increasing. You’re a mess, completely desperate beneath him. Your eyes are shining with tears as Jack uses your throat, his thrusts harsh and completely self-indulgent. You gag around him, your throat constricting, and Jack growls. He pushes your head down, your nose brushing against his pelvis and he releases into your mouth with a groan. His come paints your throat with white spurts and Jack uses his grip on your hair to pull you off of him.

A line of spit connects your mouth to his tip and Jack watches your eyes grow heavy, sated, when you swallow his come.

“Gonna come for me?” Jack asks.

Your eyes find his and you nod.

Jack tilts your head up and you open your mouth, showing him that you swallowed every drop that he awarded you. Jack spits a thick wad onto your tongue again, the weight of it heavy on your muscle although, in reality, his saliva would weigh next to nothing.

The heat in his eyes and the taste of him in your throat pushes you to your peak, your hips erratic against the pillow. Your legs are shaking, trembling as you tip over the edge and release over the object between your legs. You’re boneless, quivering between Jack’s legs. He pulls you up onto his lap and coos at you, snaking a hand between your legs to rub over your clit with a teasing finger.

“Think you can give me another?”

“Jack,” You whimper out, shying away from his insistent fingers, but they just follow you and press into you wherever you go.

Jack moves yout thong to the side, burying his middle and ring finger into your pussy and flexing his fingers until you’re squealing from the contact. He pushes his thumb into your clit and you grind down, wincing from the overstimulation but unable to stop chasing the pleasure.

“Look at my baby,” Jack marvels. “So pretty, so perfect. So slutty, huh, baby? You beg me to spank you, you fuck against a pillow until you come, and now you’re taking my fingers. So greedy. I’ve spoiled you.” He curls his fingers inside of you, relishing at the whimper that he steals from your lips with each of his movements.

You come again, the heat of it washing over you. You’re helpless to it, feeling like the orgasm is just rushing through you. You shudder on Jack’s lap, your wetness dripping down his skin and onto the fabric of the couch below you. Jack draws his fingers out slowly, not to overstimulate you even further, and kisses you softly.

“Happy birthday to me, huh?” Jack asks against your lips.

You nod, voice soft. You can barely move, so comfortable on his lap, feeling his skin against yours. “Happy birthday, darling,” You agree, and kiss him again.

“Is this going to become a real birthday tradition?” Jack wiggles his eyebrows, a smug look on his face. “Me spanking you?”

You hum, considering it. “Maybe not when we’re seventy-five and wrinkly.”

“This ass?” Jack reaches behind you and squeezes. “This ass isn’t ever getting wrinkly, not on my watch.”

“Okay, Jacky,” you snort with laughter. “Whatever you say.”

notes: *in a marilyn monroe voice* happy birthday... mr. president <3

this was meant to be a blurb. a short one. for jack's birthday. it did not STAY a blurb. that's my bad. i have a tendency to go overboard. hoping y'all enjoyed!

#puck luck's fics #jack hughes #jack hughes smut #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes fanfiction #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl x y/n #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #jh86 #andy writes anything🍄

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smoothlikealikeasnake · 3 days

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Strawberry Princess - Chapter Four “Matted Tails and Soft Lips”

Pairing - Ot7 BTS x Reader

Genre - Hybrid!Au , Hybrid BTS x Hybrid Reader, fluff, angst, eventual smut, slow burn? , alternative reality , strangers to lovers , strangers to friends, friends to lovers

Warnings - so much fluff, teasing, suggestive, so much tension, slightly sexual, anxious thoughts, lmk if there’s anything else!

Summary - When a certain hybrid starts to appear whenever Jungkook is at the gym, an immediate pull is felt between the two and their eventual friendship soon is spread to the rest of his pack.

Previous Next Overview

Since the first meeting, things had gone back to the normal schedule of Jungkook and Y/n’s daily meeting at the gym with some additional outside meet-ups where different members of Jk’s pack had attended too. Y/n had met up with every single member of his pack atleast twice since and everyone had grown more comfortable. They had all since experienced Y/n’s more playful side, far from her shy and meek side. Like when Jimin thought it’d be funny to jokingly dangle a rattling toy infront of her back and forth and instead of going for the toy, he found himself being the target, ending up with Y/n very happily ontop of him before taking the toy and walking off as if it was nothing, leaving him in a state of shock on the living room floor. Or when Jin asked for her opinion on some strawberry cream he’d made to go with dessert and instead of just placing it in her mouth, he purposely smudged it on her nose so she took her spoon and wiped a large chunk onto his own cheek before spinning on her heel and running off giggling, finding Hoseok who wiped off her nose and hid her telling Jin she wasn’t in the room despite the sweet strawberries all around. It had all gone well but they had yet to all meet up at the same time.

That’s why Namjoon took it upon himself to organise for all of them to go out for dinner at the packs favohrite restaurant where they could also have a few drinks if they fancied it. That’s how Jungkook added the entire pack and Y/n to a groupchat where they invited her to dinner the following Friday. She happily agreed and carried on with her regular days but grew increasingly more worried about where they were going, what she would wear, the impression she had to make, the possibilities of things to consider kept piling and left her spiralling.

That’s how it came to the Tuesday morning, the week of the dinner, Jungkook was at the gym as usual and he had a special present in the car from one very particular fashion designer to give to Y/n. He had already finished his warm up when he spotted Y/n making her way over, water bottle in hand and smile lighting up the room. Jungkook immediately noticed her scent was slightly sweeter than usual and was surprised as the first thing she did when she got over was wrap him in a tight hug, not even able to return it as she trapped him in before greeting him and smiling up again.

“How’s my Y/nie been?” - Jungkook beamed as she let go and handed him the bottle

“You only saw me yesterday Kook and we’ve been texting you know I’ve been good” - her words however contradicted the her plump bottom lip, swollen and red from her biting it mostly likely from anxiety, she started to nibble at it again after she finished talking and Jungkook quickly realised she must be getting overstimulated by something or multiple things so he made a quick decision to change the setting to something new for her to focus on.

“You know I really feel like going to the pool, you want to come?” Jungkook asked as he looked down at the curious kitty who didn’t even know the gym had a pool, it made sense because it was on the lowest floor and not many people knew about it so it was always empty. Before she could answer she watched and felt as Jungkook rested her hand under her chin to tilt it up and used him thumb to pull her plump lip from between her teeth leaving her slightly mouth slightly agape from shock and the flustered feeling that flooded her body. She didn’t trust her words to be coherent so all she did was nod and grab onto Jungkooks inked arm, tight enough to show she wasn’t letting go until they left and he just smiled at her antics, hoping to soothe her.

“Let’s just grab my bag then yeah? Are you okay to come now?” - He looked up across the room to find Y/n’s friend was nowhere in sight, he didn’t dwell long as a sound of approval fell from y/n’s lips and she leant in further so he hurried his movements before guiding them out of the door.

‘Did she just come for me?’ He couldn’t help but wonder.

———————————————————————————

The journey to the indoor pool was short but Y/n didn’t let go of Jungkooks arm once and he had no complaints when he pushed open the glass door and felt the warm air hit him as he took in the beautiful room. The room was dimly lit with LEDs in the wall, brick and stone designs around with beautiful decoration all over, the room was truly a treasure to those who knew about it.

Jungkook led Y/n towards two lounge beds where he placed his bag on one and gently pushed on Y/n’s shoulders to sit her on the other which snapped her out of the trance she had dropped into as she looked around in awe.

“This is beautiful, do you come here a lot?” - Y/n asked, mouth slightly agape as she looked around

“Not as often as I’d like, I forget about it existing a lot to be honest” - Jungkook

“Are you getting in?” - He continued as he looked at her curiously

She grew shy at that, the idea of being in a bikini infront of him making her flush

“I don’t have a bikini with me so I won’t” - she was glad that’s all she really had to say as Jungkook had began pulling off his shirt and revealing his chiselled torso, huge biceps and the full extend of his arm tattoos which she followed down his chest to his waist before they disappeared beneath the band of his shorts, she admired the abs that lead into his defined v-line and faint trail of hair before she couldn’t help but wonder as she looked-

“That’s too bad, next time being one, it’ll be fun” - Jungkooks words had her snapping her eyes to his face, mouth agape for a different reason to before this time, his words definitely weren’t helping her case as she was flustered, incredibly attracted to him and struggling to comprehend everything set out infront of her. Even if he meant his words innocently, she couldn’t stop herself from dwelling on the then, what would he think if he saw her in a bikini? Would he like- she had to stop herself there as he lightly chuckled before walking away and getting into the pool.

He looked straight out of a movie in that moment and Y/n couldn’t tear her eyes away as he got in fully before he turned back towards her

“It’s warm, come sit on the edge” he smiled up happily at her as she obeyed with a smile and took off her long socks and shoes, shyly moving towards the edge and dipping in the bottom half of her legs as she sat down.

Jungkook seemed to enjoy his time as she moved around quickly and got his hair soaked in seconds before going under the water and swimming up to her, jumping up and splashing her making her scold him as she giggled.

“Jungkook don’t do that your getting me all wet” - she giggled holding her hands up in protest turning her head away, his only response was to use her legs as the edge of the pool as he held onto them and shook his hair, water flying all over her making her protest even louder before turning towards him and pushing her hand through the water to splash him as much as possible in her position. He stood shocked for a second before taking his own action

“You really want to play that game kitty?” - he only smirked before splashing her twice as much with ease making her squeak and try to shake it off in her spot as she wiggled before doing it back, this continued as Y/n spun in her seated position around many times and only ended up soaking her entire body, tail droopy and heavy with water and definitely matted but she didn’t notice in that moment, full of laughter and happy with Jungkooks warm hand on her thigh even if he was splashing her.

She thought he’d finally calmed down as he got closer and held onto her legs but felt herself be hoisted into the air and screamed as Jungkook lifted her over his head, over the pool and spun around on the spot as she screamed with laughter and kicked her legs wildly, holding onto him as tightly as possible, so much her claws punctured him slightly but neither of them noticed.

“Jeon Jungkook let me down!” She shouted only to scream as he jokingly put her closer to the pool surface as if he’d put her down in that instead

“Put you down here?” - he laughed as he did it over and over, lifting her up and down and jostling her around above the pool before finally giving in and putting her to safety on the side, where she began.

“I’m going to get you back for that Jeon” - Y/n was still giggling as she threatens but unknowingly started to shiver as she sat in the wet spot. Jungkook noticed and moved to pull himself out next to her and once again momentarily distracted her as the scene seemed to play in slo mo for her. It didn’t help when her eyes followed as the once loose shorts now stuck tightly to the rest of his figure, deliciously built thighs and a surprisingly plump ass and once again her eyes travelled to his front just below that devilish vline that had somehow ended up right infront of her face- her eyes snapped up as a towel was offered infront of her face and a hand to pull her up, she took Jungkooks hand that almost made her fly inti the air and slip if it hadn’t of been for the steadying wrap around her waist once she was set down. He placed the soft towel around her before using his own to dry himself off as best as possible. He quickly realised the two would be soaked in the car still and he had yet to give Y/n her present.

“Put this on Y/nie, I’ll drive you home, there’s a present for you in the car” - Jungkook handed her his shirt from earlier before as he got his own out of his gym bag, he thought she might like the one that smelled stronger of his scent and she definitely did, taking a big sniff of it once it was in her hands before thanking him. He turned around to give her some privacy to change, it wasn’t ideal as her skirt would still be wet but the shirt would cover it and make it more comfortable, she could even take off her skirt and no one would know the shirt would be that big on her. When she signalled that it was fine to turn around it seemed that’s exactly what she did as she drowned in the black shirt he gave her , it only slightly tightened around her chest before flowing out and falling just above her knees, in her hands was a neatly folded top and skirt, still very wet but he took it from her hands and placed it into a seperate bag before putting it away to take back with them.

“Ready?” - Jungkook asked as he picked up his bag and tried to ignore the amazing feeling that flooded him as he admired her in his shirt, it’s all he ever wanted to see her in again, covered in his scent so everyone would know that she was only his- but she wasn’t… yet? And she wouldn’t be only his, he’d be his mates’ too, they’d be each others, it sounded so good he almost felt like the smallest touch of her hand on his was going to set him into a scenting spree as he eyed her neck longingly, pupils dilating.

“Go on Kookie” - Y/n could tell exactly what he needed and she too felt like she needed it as she was sent into a haze from being surrounded by his scent, she tilted her neck to expose her scent gland and let him bend down to muzzle onto the sensitive spot, holding back a gasp from the sensation, Y/n had to squeeze her eyes and mouth shut to resist letting out any other noises besides the purring erupting from her chest and Jungkook moved a hand behind her neck to pull her in closer and nuzzle harder. He desperately wanted too use his mouth to scent her further but resisted and settled for nuzzling the now slightly pink spot.

Jungkook pulled back and caught a glimpse of Y/n’s face, feeling his body heat up at her feeling just as good as he did but he pushed that thought aside to slip his hand into hers and guide them towards the car , placing another towel on the seats for the journey back and settling in before they set on their way back go Y/n’s house.

Their now usual routine fell in place as they got into the car, a minute or two of conversation as they pull out before Y/n fell asleep. Their journey not too long before Jungkook was pulling up to her apartment complex. He woke her up as usual with a press to her slightly swollen scent gland and prepared to get out her gifts while she was waking up.

The two walked up while Y/n was still sleepy, only half awake as they made their way up until they got to her door, that’s when her own senses started to sharpen again, feeling the cool air in the hallway and the uncomfortable feeling all over, her damp, matted tail swiping across her back before she looked at the waiting bunny infront of her and noticed he too was practically soaked. She quickly spun around to fumble with the keys and get them in the door as fast as possible to let them in before turning back around when it was finally open.

“Come in?” - She asked, almost shyly but was reassured when Jungkook beamed at her, boxes in hand and nodding as he stepped forward to accept her invite. They both walked in and Y/n closed the door behind them as Jungkook stood almost stunned, Y/n’s scent so strong it had him lightheaded and revelling in the way it was going to stick to him. He just looked around the interior that entirely suited Y/n, it was a smaller apartment but perfect for Y/n and had a fresh white modern base all around that was decorated with pastels everywhere. It was the kind of cozy that was neat but definitely comfortable in every space, blankets and pillows of all kinds over her sofa, soft rug infront of it and lots of small trinkets in various places.

Y/n loved her apartment, it was cozy and so her but airy and quiet enough in all ways to keep her from being overwhelmed. She waited patiently as Jungkook observed with a smile before leading them over to the couch, letting Jungkook place down the boxes on her table before she realised they couldn’t sit down, they were both still wet somewhere, Y/n was soaking through the shirt Jungkook gave her in all directions, tail, hair, soaked bra and panties underneath. Jungkook was slightly dryer, his hair no longer dripping but clearly wet.

“thank you for driving me home and bringing them in and your shirt” - Y/n fiddled with the bottom of the shirt she wore as she thought about what to do. She opted to bring Jungkook a towel for his hair and realised she should probably change herself. She let him know before grabbing everything she needed, changing into some pajamas because they were comfy and quickly detangling her hair which was surprisingly easy. She came back in with her hair brush and a towel for Jungkook because she wasn’t sure what he’d need. She found him looking closely at all of her little trinkets around the room and he looked handsomely cute as his puff tail twitched and juxtaposed his built figure.

“Here Jungkook, for your hair” - Y/n handed him the towel before turning round to walk to the couch.

“Oh Y/nie your tail, it’s all matted” - The kitty hadn’t even realised her long haired tail was still soaked and matting; it had her panicking, quickly grabbing for it and feeling her ears fall straight back, smile turning into a frown as her scent soured. It always seemed to overwhelm her and make her increasingly uncomfortable and sad when her tail wasn’t dry and soft, she’d dry it before she’d blow dry her hair after every shower. Jungkook immediately noticed her discomfort and picked up the brush on the side before rushing over, Y/n in distress was making him feel strangely protective and he desperately wanted to make it better. There was one thing that came to mind that he knew might overstep boundaries if she wasn’t sure too but it could take a lot of weight off Y/n’s shoulders so he took his chances.

“It’s okay Y/n, would you like me to help? Jiminie-hyung always asks one of us to brush his tail after his showers and even blow dry it.” Jungkook stepped gently as he didn’t want to further distress the girl but when he saw the acceptance in her eyes and the silent nod as she looked up at him he started to think about his next move.

“Do you have any detangler kitty?” - Jungkook didn’t want to pull too much because her tail was even thicker and longer than Jimin and his could easily be painful.

“It’s in my bedroom, I can go get it” - Y/n replied, still trying to brush her fingers through the matted tail.

“That’s okay I can go get it, if you want?” - Jungkook wanted to do everything he could to stop this feeling she had so when she looked up and nodded silently, he followed her scent to where it was strongest and found her bedroom, decorated exactly how he would imagine, pink and white all around, cozy and comfortable, art across the walls and in the midst of his search he found what he came for, detangler. He quickly made his way back before sitting next to her.

“How do you want to sit Y/n?” - Jungkook

“How does Jimin usually sit?” - Jungkook blushed at the thought of having her the same but told her, having no problem with it if she wanted to

“Jiminie lays across my lap, he says it’s the most comfortable way to do it” - To that, Y/n moved and let herself fall across his lap, head on a pillow and the top of her thighs to mid stomach on Jungkooks thighs, she didn’t even think much of it but Jungkook was stunned at the quick movement and frozen for a second with his hands hovering not knowing his next move before Y/n handed him back the brush, signalling him to start.

Still flustered by the position ,as Y/n’s bare thighs and full ass barely covered by her little shorts are right ontop of him, Jungkook gently grabs Y/n’s tail, noticing the way she jumped but not stopping as he sprayed some detangler on the brush she gave him and started from the tip of her long tail, gently brushing out all the knots.

Y/n’s body visibly relaxed as she melted in her position, purring loudly and smiling bashfully with her eyes closed, hands kneading the pillow she rested her head on. It was only when Jungkook would hit a small knot that she’d tense slightly and he’d apologise quietly, he moved across her entire top half of her tail before getting a bit shy and regularly checking on Y/n’s face as he moved a bit further down.

The close you got to the base of a hybrids tail the more sensitive it becomes, sparks will shoot through the hybrids body from any contact on their tail but it is significantly increased as they get closer to the base. When you reach the base it causes the hybrid to become naturally aroused which is why it’s so intimate touching any hybrids tail, that’s what made Jungkook so careful and nervous when brushing Y/n’s.

When he reached the lower half, Y/n’s purring immediately tripled in volume, her face nuzzling into the pillow but she seemed relaxed so Jungkook kept as calm as he could. That was until he nearly reached her tail, a gasp fell from Y/n’s lips at the contact and her hips rose involuntarily before falling back down on his legs, her sweet scent nearly suffocating Jungkook as a wave hit him. It was almost as if Jungkook forgot one very important detail, there was an incredibly strong scent gland near the base of every hybrids tail, it started in different places for different hybrids but he was clearly holding the start of Y/n’s.

Jungkook swiftly let go before apologising and asking if she wanted him to continue, she had her blushing face buried in the pillow and let out a high pitched sound of approval.

Y/n was laying there telling herself to calm down, he’s just being nice don’t think like that. Trying to stop the noises trying to pass through her lips, she only let out loud purrs. His hands were so gentle and looked so different compared to her strawberry blonde tail everytime she looked back, it was ridiculously attractive to her and wasn’t exactly helping that he was touching and unintentionally pulling at one of the most sensitive parts of her body with every pass of the brush. She was so deeply attracted to the sight of him caring for her in that way that her focus was taken away from keeping herself calm.

Jungkook was still gently brushing when he moved with hands lower down, brushing the base and as he gently gripped her tail there to carry on when he stopped dead in his tracks, stunned as loud purrs turned into something a lot more intense. In her fascination, Y/n stopped holding back all the noises from before and the second he grabbed her tail there and brushed the base, her mouth dropped open in a high whine with her eyes scrunched closed, nothing muffling the noise as her face was turned out of the pillow to watch Jungkooks hands. Her body wasn’t sent up in sparks and moved involuntarily, thighs tense and hips lifting up, pushing Jungkooks hand straight onto the base of her tail where it connected to her lower back. Y/n’s eyes shot open at that as a clear moan left her lips, hands gripping the pillow under her head tightly as she couldn’t stop her wide stare at him as it happened.

Jungkook knew better than to move in that moment, he didn’t want her to feel panicked,embarrassed or upset. He pushed aside his own body’s reaction as blood flushed to specific regions at the noises coming from Y/n and grounded himself, giving her a soft smile that she didn’t return over her shoulder, eyes still wide. Jungkook just moved the hand holding the brush to let go, other hand still on her tail as he slowly pressed circles into Y/n’s lower back, hoping to both ground and relax her. It seemed to work as the panic in her eyes slowly eased into that droopy state Jimin would get in whenever the base of his tail was touched.

Her head dropped to the pillow again, eyes softening and the rest of her body relaxing into Jungkook. In return, he kept pressing circles into her lower back, hand kept still on her tail until she could tell him what she wanted to do, he tried to ignore the slight shake of her thighs as they were pressed tightly together ontop of his lap but couldn’t help the slight glance he took. He regretted it as soon as he noticed how soft her thighs looked, the plush of them spreading across the entire expanse of his lap even when they were tightly held together. They looked like perfect pillows, hand rests, headrests and so much more but he quickly looked away before letting his thoughts progress.

“Y/n? Do you want me to keep going, there’s just this little bit here left” - Jungkook spoke gently to her as she looked at him and nodded in agreement, he was surprised at that, sure that she’d want to do it on her own but it seemed his hold on her tail had shielded her from feeling anything negative and he was glad about that. Ensuring he was as gentle as possible, Jungkook rested her tail on his hand and used the brush he previously put down to gently detangle the knots on it. Y/n wasn’t silent besides her purrs though this time, she let out small noises at every move of his hand and pull of a knot, not in disapproval, more from the pleasure she couldn’t pretend not to have. Her scent was bursting off of her in strong waves that had Jungkook have to breathe through his mouth to hold composure before it intensified and even then, breathing through his mouth didn’t help as he could taste her and that was even worse. Even worse because not that he’d have a taste it would never be enough, he snapped his mouth shut breathing minimally as he continued until he was at the part where it connected to her back and thanked his reflexes for moving away fast as Y/n’s hips jumped up again, he would of pulled her tail if not and neither of them want to know what would happen then.

When he finished, he tapped Y/n’s upper thigh twice to wake her out of her state only to have to divert his attention away completely at the sight of her thigh bouncing just from his soft pats. She was too beautiful in every way and he felt like he was starting to lose his ability to deny his attraction and little did he know, so was she, his entire pack knew too. It was time for Jungkook to have a serious chat about next steps with Y/n with his mates.

As Y/n became more conscious she slid herself slowly back, moving her knees up to being herself back up and unknowingly putting her entire body just centimetres from Jungkooks face, she wasn’t bothered as she couldn’t ignore how much better she felt, not just from her tail being nearly dry now and soft, but from being taken care of, it was unfamiliar but she enjoyed it more than she should admit. She knew after that she would be craving his attention and touch a ridiculous amount but pushed that thought aside to focus.

“It’s so soft and nearly dry thank you Kookie it’s perfect, thank you so much” - Y/n happily threw herself into his arms, thanking him with a warm embrace and stunning him at a peck on the cheek before jumping up and focusing on the boxes that were brought in.

“So what are they?” - Y/n asked curiously, leaning in to inspect the fancy boxes

“They- Tae- dinner… clothes?” - Jungkook couldn’t form real sentences as his brain was trying to process everything that happened but Y/n understood and asked to open one to which he quickly agreed. The largest box was white, wrapped with a large bow with a small tag on it

‘For a pretty kitty - V’ Y/n’s heart fluttered at the words but she picked up his designing name, it made her curious, had he bought the surprise, or had he made it?

Y/n carefully pushed off the ribbon and pulled the lid off, curious as she saw white fur. She gently moved to grab at the material, immediately noticing the softness of it, wanting to purr just at that before she pulled it out further and stood up straight to hold it infront of her.

Y/n stood shocked as the soft white fur turned into a oversized, thick faux fur coat, similar to the one Taehyung wore when they met the first time, the white blinding and the fur perfectly soft, it was constructed perfectly, it seemed the perfect length and she wanted to wrap up in it then and there, not to mention how absolutely beautiful it was.

Upon closer inspection she noticed the tag in it, labelled by Taehyung and she found an embroidered message on it too‘ the prettiest kitty ‘ with the ‘V’ above it; she quickly realised he had made this for her, to her size, recently as it was clearly brand new and plush. She spun around with it in her hands and began to excitedly show Jungkook, spinning around him, careful not to crush the coat as she felt it delicately, she spun around like a princess as she laughed and he returned the gesture, secretly getting out his phone to record the moment, knowing Taehyungs chest would fill with pride at the sight of her loving his work.

‘It’s too much Kookie, so beautiful but too much’ - Y/n’s smile turned into a small frown, ears pinning back at her realisation, as she was about to gently place it back in the box, a large figure pressed up against her back and grabbed her wrists, pulling them away from the box to stop her. It all happened too fast from Jungkook pressing up against her to him leaning down to whisper in her ear while his thumbs pressed into the scent glands on her wrists where she felt her, making her gasp.

“I’ll let you in on a secret Y/nie, nothing is too much when it comes to you, we would give you the world, hyungs wouldn’t react as lightly as I am to you rejecting a gift because it’s ‘too much’” - Something had changed in Jungkooks voice as he whispered, body pressing impossibly close and thumbs applying more pressure, she realised it was his Busan satoori , thick on his tongue as his warm breath tickled her ear. She practically melted on the spot as she clocked his words, nothing is too much? Why would they feel like that? All of them… and then the realisation at the rest of his words set in. If this was reacting lightly, while she should deny it, Y/n really wanted to know how the rest of them reacted, it had blood rushing to her cheeks and her breath hitching.

“You understand, don’t you Y/nie?” - She thought he was finished until he said that, a high pitched noise of approval calling from her lips with her head nodding. She felt like she could finally breathe for a second as he started to pull away from her back until he leant in to whisper again

“Good girl, now go open the rest.” - the praise had a gasp leaving Y/n, her knees buckling slightly and butterflies filling her stomach but Jungkook switched up immediately, stepping back with a bit smile, his duality confused her but she had to push that thought aside as he asked her of something.

“Put it on” - Jungkook beamed at her as he said, she silently obeyed and put on the glamourous coat, it fit perfectly for her, oversized in the best way and it made her feel more luxurious than she ever had

“I love it.” - It’s all she could say as Jungkook could tell she felt so much more about it and encouraged her to open the next box, more nervous about if she’d like this one as much

The second box is smaller but just as beautifully packaged, a large bow and ribbon across it which she carefully removed, this one addressed from Jimin

‘Red will definitely be your colour - Jimin’

It had her curiosity growing as she opened the box and saw white mesh over red material and gently pulled it out, her eyes widened at the beautifully constructed dress before her.

It was red, a long fitted dress that loosened slightly at her thigh from a slit, it was both simple and complex, the perfect balance as a Matt crimson material was the base, a nearly transparent white tulle overtop that slightly ruched at the waist, both materials slightly draped at the chest area as it had thin straps to hold it on, when she looked at the back she found the tulle thickened into a large bow that slightly adjusted and underneath was the zip. The layers of the dress were connected but made it seem fuller with so much dimension, the red was prominent but somehow perfectly complimented by the white overlay.

Y/n had never worn a dress similar, it was incredible, she had never even imagined such a thing but she knew it could perfectly suit her, all she worried about was the measurements. Would it fit her? How would they of even known what size she would be? And when she saw the label, the cursive ‘Jimin’ with his own short message underneath ‘the first gift’ somehow she knew he had specifically designed this for her, in that sense he had also tailored this to her size wise but how?

Jungkook answered her unspoken question

“Tae and Jimin have an eye for knowing near exact measurements when it comes to clothes, you should try it on, I know he’d be happy to make any adjustments if it didn’t fit.” - He was more than happy to see her enjoying the gifts and knew the final two would tie it all together but admittedly was desperate to see her in the dress.

“I’ll go try it on now!” - Y/n was almost jumping with excitement, her freshly brushed tail swinging rapidly, smacking Jungkook as she spun on her feet and headed towards her bedroom. While she did Jungkook took the opportunity get his phone out and text him and his mates’ group chat.

‘She’s opened the coat and dress, she loves them’ - JK

‘Has she tried them on? What did she say about them?’ - JM

‘I knew she’d love it’ - TH

‘She has only tried the coat on, she’s so happy and she’s trying the dress on now’ - JK

Both of the designers hearts swelled with pride and joy at her enjoying their work

‘Just listen out, she’ll need help to do the zipper’ - JM

‘Tell us if it fits, tell us how it looks’ - TH

Jungkook quickly agreed and on that cue, hear Y/n’s soft voice calling out to him from her room, he walked up to the door and found her back facing him, long hair falling down her back just below her waist, the dress was on but not zipped up, he could see her arms holding the front up to hide herself but she looked over her shoulder embarrassed

“Could you zip me up please?” - Y/n refused to look into his eyes as she asked but he just smiled and nodded moving forward to touch the dress. When he got close enough her tail was tickling him as it sway, comfortably fitted in the small hole designed for it, before it moved to one side so Jungkook could reach. As he held either side his warm breath danced over her shoulder as he looked down, he held the two sides on her lower back and felt his thumbs graze either side of her lower spine as he held the zipper and slowly pulled it up. He could only move it a little bit before he gently gathered Y/n’s hair and placed it over her shoulder, revealing the rest of her back. His knuckle grazed her spine the entire time he pulled the zipper up and Y/n was a flustered mess when he was finished. He adjusted the bow to cover the zip again and tightened it before telling her it was finished.

She looked down before stepping forward, thanking him and turning around, not having seen it on herself before Jungkooks jaw dropped, she was absolutely breathtaking, the dress fit like a glove, it complimented her skin, her hair, her eyes, her aura, it was perfect on her. Only one word could fall out of Jungkooks mouth in that moment and it just

“Beautiful…” - Y/n’s heart swelled at that, not knowing how it looked but already feeling good about herself. That lead to her smiling and walking to her full length mirror. She really did look beautiful and she felt so good about herself, the dress fit perfectly, her waist fitted and hips accentuated.

The only thing newer to her was the cleavage, she never wore shirts with cleavage and having a quite large breasts meant that in this dress, they were very much out and she wouldn’t normally be comfortable but for some reason, she felt amazing about it. She was only going to be with the boys who in the last few weeks, she had learnt to trust with her life, she wasn’t sure why they got so close so quickly but she was comfortable wearing this around them, she was comfortable around them altogether.

While Y/n was admiring the dress in the mirror, Jungkook had a second to process the princess in front of him, the beauty she held and the way she made brought the design and vision Jimin had to life, he’d be so happy right now and he desperately wanted to take a picture but knew it would be better for them to wait, for them to have a big reveal. His time to process was cut off when his eyes refocused on Y/n, her body was soft, his hands always melted into her whenever he touched her and it drove him crazy but this dress accentuated every bit of her body, from her wide hips and large thighs up her soft tummy and to her large breasts, it showed every small mark on her revealed skin, every freckle and scar from her previous years, the documents of her life before them, she had stained his mind ever since they met.

From the second he lay eyes on her and it all felt too real in that moment, gifting her his mates’ special designs, helping her into her dress, brushing her tail and having her trust him with one of the most sensitive parts of her body and being comfortable enough to allow it all to happen, it felt right. It felt like they were meant to be, she was absolutely perfect in every way, every little mark on her skin was perfect, every time she would make her own marks on him by accident when she wouldn’t retract her claws was perfect, every little moment with her felt unreal. Reality felt like the most beautiful dream when he was with her; he was more than grateful, more than lucky, all he could hope is that she felt the same way but somehow he knew, within he knew that she did feel that way too, maybe it was the glint in her eyes or maybe it was the way she leant into his touch, maybe it was the way she let her hybrid surface whenever they were together or maybe it was the way she trusted him, somehow he knew.

His breathe was caught when she turned around again and he was so infatuated with her that he couldn’t hear what she said until she slightly frowned and said his name, he had to ask her to repeat herself sheepishly.

“Unzip me? Please, I don’t want to ruin it, it’s so perfect” - Y/n was so cute to him, the way her eyes looked over the dress in awe as her hair fell over her face and she used both hands to push it back, even her smallest actions were so cute. He snapped out of his thoughts as he agreed and walked forward, gently holding her bare shoulders as he walked behind her and pushed her hair to the side again, moving under the tulle bow to the zip.

‘She’s the epitome of perfection, of pure joy and beauty, one day I’ll know she’s mine’ - Jungkook knew he fell hard and fast but as his hands grazed her back and goosebumps grew on her arms as she slightly pushed into his hands, he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“You know, Jimin and Taehyung take it upon themselves to dress us all for every event, it’s one way they show their love” - He’d hoped she’d understand what he meant by this and when he felt her skin warm up, scent sweeten and tail swing faster, he knew she was blushing and understood.

“You all must look even more handsome than usual at every event then, I feel so pretty, I’ll have to return their love soon hm?” - Y/n spoke her thoughts word for word, almost in a dream in her mind, not even thinking much about how she’d admitted to wanting to reciprocate their love, Jungkooks felt her heart beating as fast as his own, rapidly thumping against her chest, it made him smile so wide. That was until he’d fully unzipped the dress and quickly noticed the fabric start to slouch at her waist, Y/n was so deep in thought that she hadn’t grabbed the fabric to hold against her chest. He worked quickly to grab the two sides from the top where the zipper connects and hold them high on her back so she wouldn’t be exposed, she still hadn’t realised until Jungkook called out her name with a ‘Careful’ it had her snapping back, cheeks flushing, embarrassed but also smiling at how much of a gentleman he was and how he had brought back that first time they spoke, when he’d told her to be careful as she dropped that bottle.

She thanked him quickly and looked over his shoulder up at him, holding her chest to hold the dress up when he let go, she felt the air grow thick as their eyes connected, anything around them muffling as they zoned in on eachother. Y/n captured his doe eyes as she studied his face, appreciating the warmth in his eyes, the hair brushing his forehead, messy from the pool earlier, the piercing on his eyebrow, his soft nose, sharp jawline, the way his soft eyes juxtaposed that dominant appearance he held everywhere else, until her eyes travelled down slightly, to the pink lips, wrapped in a thin silver ring on the same side as his eyebrow piercing, she intended to look away until his scent thickened, the soft linen smell travelling through her body until his mouth slightly parted to let his tongue past through to wet his lips and there she discovered a new detail he had kept well hidden.

When he licked his lips she saw the silver on his tongue, a tongue piercing, she didn’t know why but it had her melting on the spot, his tall figure looming over her, she felt herself slightly pushing herself up onto her tip toes to get closer , hands still holding the dress. Jungkooks own hands let go of the dress to fall onto her soft hips, he felt the perfect hand rests as his fingers immediately melted into her skin. He gripped hard enough to pull her in closer, she would of stumbled if it wasn’t for her grip keeping her exactly where he wanted her. His own gaze fell from her wide eyes to her plump lips, their natural tint drawing his in as they fell open the tiniest bit, they both knew what they wanted when she pushed herself higher and he leant down slightly, hands holding her hips tighter, he watched her eyes softly close and knew this was the moment he had been waiting for, his opportunity of confirmation. He could feel her soft, strawberry breath on his own lips, just an inch apart when he leant down, his hair definitely tickling her.

The moment could have been ruined by the loud vibrations on his phone, definitely texts from his mates asking about the dress but he refused to let it stop this. He made sure she was flush against his front in that moment and let one of his hands move up to cup from the back of her neck to her jaw, tilting her head even further up to connect their lips. It was like fireworks had set off in the both of them, y/n tried to push impossibly closer to his body, finally getting to taste the linen that would stick to her every single day, it tasted so good she nearly fell right there, she had already fallen in one way she wouldn’t let it be physically shown, or so she thought when her knees buckled but she was held exactly where she was by Jungkooks strong hands.

She let him take the lead, not even thinking about how this was her first kiss, she was more than glad to let him take it. She’d never even come close to a romantic or intimate relationship due to her reserved personality but she knew when she grew so comfortable with him and his mates that she wanted them. Jungkook felt her letting him take the lead and wanted to smirk but did exactly what she wanted instead of letting pride consume him. He kept it sweet, lightly dancing his lips over hers to ease her in, it felt so good to have that ripe strawberry taste fill his mouth and to have her soft pillowy lips against his own, perfectly fitting between each others. He pushed his own lips slightly harder against hers, keeping her steady as her body reacted, he didn’t want to make it too much the first time so he slowly pulled away. As he got a few inches from her face he opened his eyes, being softer with the hand on her neck and jaw, her eyes were still closed and lips slightly parted even more pink and plump than before just from the short kiss, he couldn’t help but wonder about how they’d look in the future, when it all happened again.

His thoughts were cut off when she opened her eyes, she felt hot, soft and so many things but one look into his eyes had her relaxing, she knew he didn’t regret it and neither did she. She wanted nothing more in that moment but for it to happen again but she also knew she wouldn’t be able to cope, not with the way she had melted in his hands, his thumb gently rubbed over her neck and hit her scent gland over and over, her eyes faultered slightly again. She could feel his grip loosen slightly on her waist and she fell a small amount to the ground from her tip-toes, he already seemed ridiculously tall but when she was looking up at him like that, his big hands all over her, he seemed like a god.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while princess” - He smiled happily down at her but her eyes slightly widened at the confession and his satoori that had come out again, her own voice felt small but she knew he heard it

“I have too” - the confirmation was all they both needed to feel nothing but pure bliss. It took a minute before they both recovered as they realised Y/n still needed to get out of the dress and Jungkook left the room to give her privacy, immediately texting his mates so fast that he was making every typo possible but they understood, it was a step that had them all stopping in their tracks and smiling, melting even. Nothing else was thought about in that moment, not in Namjoons office, not in the kitchen with Jin, not in Yoongis piercing room where he was planning clients, not in Hoseoks dance studio, and not in Jimin and Tae’s meeting.

When Y/n came back into the living room in her set from before they both smiled bashfully at eachother before Jungkook told her she had one more present to open, her hands were slightly shaking from the previous interaction as she opened the smaller box, finding a pair of pretty white kitten heels with a small tulle bow over the toe box that matched the bow on the back of the dress exactly. They were about just under two inches high, easy for her to walk in and a bright white, one that matched the fur coat, she was already stunned by the other firsts but these brought the entire outfit together it was amazing to her how they’d thought of everything and in the soles she saw the branding of Jimin and Taehyungs company, she traced over it in appreciation with a wide smile on her face.

Fully holding one shoe she saw a small handwritten card underneath, addressed from Jimin and Taehyung

‘We hope you like it kitty, you’ll look beautiful” - the short message had her internally screaming like a child, she wanted to get up and jump with joy at the entire day she felt like she was in heaven, she couldn’t properly express anything so she just looked over her shoulder with a huge smile, not even saying anything and didn’t even notice as he clicked a picture of her, heel and note in hand, sitting so cute as she smiled at him over her shoulder. He immediately sent to the groupchat

‘Our Strawberry Princess’

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Just know it hasn’t been proofread or edited but next chapter will be out very soon!

This chapter was very Jungkook centred but from here on it’ll be mostly Ot7! Please feel free to ask questions, request headcannons or drabbles!

Side note; who else is in love with Come back to me, omg I am listening on repeat it’s just so good!

ཐི♡ཋྀ

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mostly-imagines · 2 hours

Text

The Alchemy I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood

warnings: slow burn, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of standard gotham violence

Dear fuck, he’s as heavy as he looks.

You use all of your weight to pull him backwards towards the couch, almost giving up when you realized you’d have to lift him up off the ground to actually get on it.

Getting him through the window was enough of a hassle, challenging the difficulty of the decision to bring him in here at all.

Thankfully you don’t have to think too hard on it because you feel his body stiffen up suddenly. He jolts upright, though clearly pained to do so, hand flying to the gun holster on his side.

You take a step back, hands out in front of you. “Hey, it’s alright.”

“Who are you?” His voice is interrogative.

You put your hands down, “You’re the one who passed out on my balcony, I think if anyone gets to ask that question it’s me.”

He stares at you, white lenses bearing into your soul.

Okay, yeah. You tell him your name. He doesn’t move. “You just looked like you needed some help..”

His posture loosens a bit, and his hand finally leaves the holster.

He glances down at his abdomen, a sizable tear in his suit and a nearly alarming amount of blood. “You got any bandages?”

“Uh, I—yeah, yeah, I do.” You dart down the hall into the bathroom, shuffling through your first aid kid. You toss a few wraps into your arms, along with some antiseptic spray you suspect he’ll need. You grab your hand towel and get it wet under warm water.

When you return, he’s moved himself onto the sofa, lifting his shirt up to assess the damage. You round the couch, seeing more blood than you’d have hoped for.

“Can I?” You ask, motioning to his injury.

He looks up at you for a long moment. He nods.

You kneel down in front of him and replace his hand in lifting up the shirt. It’s a cut, it doesn’t look terribly deep, but still not shallow enough that he could just leave it.

You take the rag and dab it around the wound, trying to clean up the blood as much as possible without making contact with it.

He’s very still as you work, and you get the strong impression he’s watching you carefully.

You grab the antiseptic spray, shaking it. “This’ll sting.”

He grunts.

You apply the antiseptic thoroughly and he doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t move his gaze from you for a second.

You unwrap one of the bandages and place it on firmly, making sure there’s no bleedthrough.

And not that you particularly want to be thinking about this right now, but the man is noticeably ripped. Stacked like a house of cards.

You rip away your gaze and stand up, hands on your hips, taking a deep breath. You look at him—at his helmet.

You don’t know how you can tell, but he’s studying you. Trying to get a read on you, maybe. Regardless, you’re eager to escape the gaze.

You shovel the remainder of your supplies back into your arms and bring them back to the bathroom, calling out, “I didn’t take off your helmet, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

There’s a short beat.

“Do I seem like someone that worries often?”

You peek your head out of the bathroom door.

You look at him. “You seem like someone that doesn’t worry enough.”

He snorts. “You’re not far off.”

You make your way back once you’re done, looking at the disregarded meal you’d been interrupted from. “I have pasta if you…eat.”

“I do.”

“I can go in the other room if you—”

He clicks the lock on his helmet, taking it off. He’s left with a second mask underneath, covering his eyes and nose. His dark hair sticks up from the helmet, a white streak poking out in the front. He looks younger than you would’ve expected. Cuter, if his jaw is anything to go by.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Okay then.

You grab a second plate out of the cabinet and scoop on the rest of the pasta from the pan.

You hand him the plate, avoiding standing too close.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

You turn back around as casually as possible after hearing the name, wanting to avoid letting your face give anything away.

This guy kills people, right?

You sit down in the armchair across from the couch, spooling the pasta on and off the fork. He doesn’t show the same hesitation in dining away that you do—you guess fighting crime would require some calorie exchange.

“You a nurse?” He asks after a few minutes.

The question takes you by surprise. You hadn’t taken him as a small talk kind of person. “Huh? Oh, no, I’ve just taken a few first aid courses and stuff.”

He gives a short hum, thoughtful.

“What?”

“You’re good.” Hardly.

“I didn’t really do anything.”

“You did enough.” He says, not leaving much room for argument.

He stands up at once, walking past you to the kitchen. Your gaze follows him silently. He puts his empty plate in the sink and returns to the edge of the living room.

He looks at you once more and pops his helmet back on followed by the click of the lock.

“I’ll see ya.” He says shortly, before ducking out the window.

You’re left alone, sitting in your armchair, plate of cold pasta forgotten on your lap.

That could’ve gone very badly. Maybe not your most thought-through decision to literally drag the Red Hood into your apartment, but hey. Maybe you’re exercising your ability to be an upstanding, helpful person. Or maybe you were just hoping to prevent a vigilante being found dead on your fire escape.

Regardless, you close the window after him, leaving it unlocked. Just in case.

You wake in the middle of the night to the sounds of footsteps in your living room. You shoot upright, immediately spotting the lamp light flooding in from under your door.

Creeping to a stand, you grab the baseball bat next to your bed and slowly walk to the door.

You creep the door open as quietly as possible, inching out half a step at a time. A nearby creak on your floorboards had you swinging blindly, only to have your bat get stopped midair. You look up to see Mr. Hood himself, blocking the blow of your hit with his hand.

“Wow. You and a bat against Gotham, huh, sweetheart?”

“Fuck!” You let go of the bat and drown your face in your hands. “What is wrong with you?”

“Apparently that I don’t carry enough baseball bats with me.” He says coolly, inspecting your bat. Though he’s got to admit, your bat is probably a hell of a lot more useful than his.

You drop your arms at your side. “If I’d known bringing you into my apartment one time was going to be considered a free pass forever, I might’ve thought twice.”

“If I’d known I was going to nearly be concussed with a baseball bat, I might’ve too.” Barely. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re still half asleep and it was not a very good swing.

He looks at you straight on for the first time. His helmet quickly drifts down and back up to your face just as fast.

You look down. T-Shirt, underwear, and…no that’s it. Not…ideal. You pull down on the unfortunately not at all oversized shirt, wanting to creep back into your room.

He turns his back, allowing you to do just that and scramble for some shorts to throw on.

“Very gentlemanly of you.” You call out from your room, “And only thirty seconds after breaking into my apartment.”

“Okay, one, I’ve been here longer than that. In a non creepy way.”

“Right.”

“And two, I didn’t break anything. You live in the middle of Gotham and don’t lock your window?”

You reemerge in the doorway, “I live on the eighth floor.”

He turns around to face you again, helmet in his hands. “Didn’t stop me.” No it did not.

“Mm. So are you here specifically to judge my home security or was there something you needed?”

He takes a deep breath, “Actually yeah. I just need a place to rest for a minute.”

“Rest from what?”

A series of gunshots echo from down the street.

“Next question.”

Concise.

You and Hood sit on the couch in the dark, per his insistence, because for some godforsaken reason, you have no curtains. It takes a few minutes for the silence to dissipate into forced conversation, which takes a few more minutes to fade into actual conversation.

“Can I be honest with you?” You ask him.

“Does it matter how I answer?”

“I don’t understand how you’re not dead.” You poke your head up, turning to him. “Are you human?”

He cranes his neck to look out the window, “Maybe getting shot at isn’t the worst thing that could happen tonight…”

You roll your eyes with a smile that you’re glad is hidden by the darkness. “Oh, fuck off.”

“You don’t have much in terms of self-preservation skills, do you?”

You ignore him as to not acknowledge that he’s probably right and roll through to your next curiosity, “Who the hell was shooting at you anyways?” Though, you don’t really expect an answer.

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. They got ‘til sunrise anyway.”

You tilt your head, “‘Til sunri—” oh. Yeah. Come to think of it, he does have two guns on him right now. At least that you can see. You squint blankly at the wall, “You know, I’m placing a lot of trust in the hope that you’re not just as bad as those guys.”

“Yes you are.” He nods, not doing anything to convince you that he is in fact a good guy. He hasn’t tried to harm you in any way though, so you guess that’s a good sign.

You tilt your head at him. “Do you get paid to do this?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of people who would pay me not to do this.”

You nod solemnly, mouth turned into an exaggerated frown. “So you have a day job?”

He looks over at you, “Do you always ask this many questions?”

“Are you always so dodgy about answering them?” You shoot back. If you’d thought for .5 seconds longer on that, you might not have said anything. But you feel comfortable here, in your apartment with a man whose face you’ve never seen, name you don’t know, and always has at least two loaded guns on him.

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah. I am.” He looks over at you. “You live here by yourself?”

You look around at the empty apartment before turning back to him, “Seems that way.”

He shrugs, “Boyfriend could be out or something.”

“Well most people are asleep at one in the morning. Like I was. Remember that?”

“No.”

You sigh, curling up into a ball on your end of the couch, resting your chin on your knees. You’re quiet for a minute before piping up, “Do people actually break into apartments on high floors a lot?”

“Stupid people.” He pauses, looking over at the frown on your face. “Look, I’m in the neighborhood a lot. If I see somebody climbing your fire escape I’ll shoot them.”

You let a little smile out, “I’m thinking there’s other steps you could take before you get to that point.”

“If you want to waste time.” His gaze doubles back at you, “That was a joke, by the way.”

You bark out a tired laugh, “Yeah, I picked up on that, thanks.”

He removes his eyes from you, fixing on a set of pictures you have hanging on the wall.

Your eyes flutter and you move to rest your head on the arm of the couch. “Is this going to be a regular thing then?”

“You could lock your window.”

“Living on the eighth floor didn’t stop you, I can’t imagine a shitty lock will do much more.”

“If you don’t want me here, I won’t be here.” He says gruffly.

“If I don’t want you here, I’ll let you know.” You mumble, eyes closing.

You can barely make out a laugh from him, “Good to know.”

You’re not quite sure how much time goes by when he leaves, but you have a pretty strong feeling you’d fallen asleep. Your main indicator was feeling the blanket draped nicely over you that you could’ve sworn was on the chair across the room.

Maybe it’s ten o’clock at night and you’re sat on your kitchen floor, bawling your eyes out. Maybe you’re going to have to quit your job. Or maybe you’ll have to face a lawsuit. Maybe this is the worst day in the history of time. Maybe it’s about to get worse.

The sound of your living room window sliding open has you startling into a rush, body panicking as if you’ve done something wrong and desperately need to cover the evidence. The past few weeks of sporadic visits leaves no question about who it is, and you just hope the kitchen island in front of you will be enough to convince Hood that you’re not in and he’ll leave.

But because today is today, that’s not how it goes down.

You can vaguely make out the sound of his footsteps approaching, a courtesy that you’re sure he incorporated on purpose.

“Oh fuck…” you mutter to yourself, wiping your eyes.

He rounds the counter, looking down at you. “Wha—what’s wrong?”

“Fuck. Nothing.” You say, standing up and adjusting your clothes. “Are you hurt?” He better fucking not be at only ten.

“No, I—why are you on the floor?”

You roll your eyes, “I live alone, forgive me for assuming I would be given the privilege to cry on the floor in private.”

“Did something happen?” You’re trying really hard not to call him an idiot.

You raise your eyebrows, giving a light nod. “Uh, yeah, I’d say so.”

He shifts in his stance, “Do I need to talk to someone?”

You scoff, knowing damn well his version of ‘talk to someone’ does not include talking to someone. “Why are you even here so early?”

“Wanted to stop by before I went out.” he says quietly.

You’re about to snap something at him again, but the burning in your eyes takes immediate priority. You wrap your arms around your middle and try to calm yourself down, with very little success. The tears fall easily and your shoulders start shaking as you look at the floor, letting the melancholy take over.

It feels like much longer than it probably was, but sometime after the first few tears fall he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. This only makes you cry harder, sobbing against his armor. Your arms stay wrapped around your center, while his hands remain completely still against your back, though firm. You don’t realize it immediately, but he’s holding a good portion of your weight up, you’d for sure collapse onto the floor otherwise. You kind of wish you would. Sitting on the floor felt nice, maybe falling down on it will feel even better.

You slowly start to regain your breathing, the well in your eyes drying up again. He waits for you to stop completely and slowly pulls back from you, hands momentarily still wavering next to you like he’s ready to catch you.

It takes you a minute to notice, but his helmet is locked on to the finger-shaped bruises on your forearm. You awkwardly move your opposite arm to cover them, looking around your apartment with nothing to search for.

He’s quiet for a long while, clearly thinking hard. “What happened?”

You sniffle, “Some asshole at my job.”

“Some asshole?” He doesn’t believe you. Rightfully so, but he has no business being able to tell that you’re lying about one single word in that sentence.

“My boss. Was very intent on successfully hitting on me.” You exhale deeply, “His approach could use some work though, if I’m honest.”

His posture remains statue-like. “Where do you work?”

You look at him straight on for the first time that night, “What does that matter?”

“I’ll take care of it.” He says simply.

You wave him off, “It’s fine.”

He waits a moment before letting you know, “I’m being polite by asking, I’m going to find out either way.”

You plop back down on the kitchen floor, knees to chest. “Well, then do it the hard way.”

About ten seconds of him staring down at you in silence go by, before he sits down next to you. It’s a bit funny how he tries to shrink himself down next to you, you’re assuming because he doesn’t want you to get panicked again because this massive stranger is sitting next to you in your kitchen in the dead of night.

You don’t look at him as he clicks his helmet off and sets it on the other side of him. It’s quiet for another minute when he holds his gloved hand out to you, and you’re not quite sure how you know what he wants, but you do. You place your bruised arm in his hand, letting him gently pull it closer to him and scan over it.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Again, you don’t know how, but you can tell he’s asking how far things went. “I started screaming and it freaked him out. He let me go.” you say numbly.

You can see him nod out of the corner of your eye, bits of red making their way into your peripheral despite the discarded helmet. You turn slowly to look at him, finding him looking at you already.

His face is more covered than it had been the first night, the same black mask covers his eyes but the lower half of his face is also hidden by a red mouthpiece. You’re in the lamp light and closer to him than you had been before and you’re counting out specks of green in his blue eyes. He lets you, to your surprise, and when you run out of emerald hues you take focus on his thick, dark eyelashes. Your gaze moves back ever so slightly to make eye contact with him and you tear your eyes away, zeroing in on the kitchen tiles.

You sigh contemplatively, “I’m worried if you kill my boss it’ll be traced back to me and I’ll get pinned for it.”

He doesn’t laugh. But your delivery was a little dry in the wrong way so really it was on you.

“I’m not going to kill him.” he tells you, “I wouldn’t gamble with my pied-a-terre like that.”

Your head falls back, hitting the drawer behind you with a light thud. “Then why waste your time at all?” Maybe you should slow down with the snide comments.

He wants to, but he doesn’t call out the implied self-slighting in your words. “Maybe it’s a ‘me’ thing but I don’t particularly like men that hurt women.”

You let out a dry laugh. “In Gotham, it just might be.”

He sits with you on the linoleum tile of your kitchen until your eyes start to droop and he lightly corrals you to your bedroom before taking his exit through the window. You told him multiple times that he could go and you were fine, but he insisted that nothing important was happening in the city that time of night. You didn’t quite believe him though, because it was past midnight by the time he’d headed out.

When you showed up to work the following day your boss wasn’t there. Wasn’t there the day after either. Or the day after. He didn’t make an appearance again until the following Monday. And when he did show face, he did so with a neck brace and a cast on his leg. But once more, he absolutely refused to make eye contact or speak to any of the female employees. It actually became a whole thing when he wouldn’t give instructions or feedback to any of you, and insisted on having his secretary replaced with a man, who he then used as a middle man to speak to all of the women for him. HR got involved three times in the span of the next five days, and by the Monday after, he’d been fired.

So to recap: yes, no, no, undecided, and hard no.

Maybe you’re really starting to like this Red Hood guy.

Hard yes.

You’re slightly on guard upon hearing a clattering on the balcony, though if the past few weeks have been any indicator, you’re not in much danger.

Your posture slumps as you peer around the hallway corner, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Good to see you too.” he grumbles, dropping onto the floor.

“Well, I have to imagine I’m a step up from the last person you saw.” You say, looking him up and down, seeing what sure as hell looks like a gunshot wound on his chest armor. “What happened to you? The Mad Hatter uses guns now?”

He groans, “Ah, I said something about him being a heartless fuck, and I guess he took it personally.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, Hood.”

He waves you off, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

You scoff, “He tried to shoot you in the heart.”

“Yeah, well, he missed.” He grumbles, adjusting his position on the couch.

You exhale sharply, “How do you know?”

“How do I know?” He tilts his helmet at you, exasperated.

You throw your arms up at your side, “I don’t know! I’m not equipped for this scenario.”

He huffs, “Look, it’s fine, it hit my armor. It’ll probably just be a bad bruise.”

“Probably?”

“I don’t think there’s blood. Could you…” he vaguely gestures to his torso, but it's enough for you to get the hint.

You shake the panic out of your head, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

You help him shrug off his jacket as he strips off his armor, and you lift his shirt up as slowly as you can in case the injury is worse than he thinks.

You’re not shocked to see that he has scars, that’s kind of a given in his line of work. What you are shocked to see is one very long scar that lines directly up the center of his body. It’s a deep scar, too.

And, oh. The long scar extends further, splitting off into a fork at his collar. That’s—oh. Oh. Oh. That is an autopsy scar.

You’re not sure what to do. You’ve never seen a living person with an autopsy scar—though you have to imagine neither have most people.

He clearly does not want to talk about it and you’re happy to let him keep the skeleton in the closet.

You avert your gaze back over to his diaphragm at the area of reddened skin.

“There’s no blood, but…” You inspect it a bit closer, “I think there’s going to be a bad bruise. You might end up with bruising on your ribs, you need to get that looked at.”

“I am.” He says shortly.

You stand up straight, dropping your shoulders. “By someone who went to medical school. Or has taken more than one anatomy class in their life.”

He yanks down his shirt, standing, apparently too quickly, and wobbling. You catch his arm as he sways, attempting to steady him. “You should sit down.”

“Need to go back out.” He grunts, trying to pull away from you with little force.

“To get killed? ‘Cause you’re going the right way about it.”

He tilts his head at you like he’s daring you to be so bold again. At least that's what it felt like. You sigh, gesturing to the couch, “Sit down.”

You didn’t expect it to work but he does as told.

You look around, unsure of what to do next. “Do you need ice?”

“What?”

“You’re hurt.” You say slower. “Do you need ice?”

He falters for a second, “No, it’s—no.” A couple beats pass before he adds, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

It’s impossible not to notice that he’s staring at you. You feel hot under his gaze, not knowing what to do with yourself. You clear your throat, telling him to hang on for a second.

You call out behind you as you walk to the kitchen, “Take your helmet off, it’s rude.” You grab the painkillers from their new easily-accessible place on the kitchen counter and grab a water bottle from the fridge.

It was a joke but when you come back his helmet is off and he’s just wearing his domino eye mask. His hair is extra tousled, the white streak barely visible in the mess of loose curls. You toss the bottle of meds at him, followed by the capped bottle of water. He catches them easily, downing more than he probably should have but he got shot tonight so you figure you’ll give him a break about it.

You plop down on the couch next to him, honestly closer than you’d meant to. Your knees and shoulders lightly brush against one anothers, though neither of you make any moves to scoot over.

You both look straight ahead at the wall, simmering in the amity. “So did somebody else deal with the Hatter or when you get shot do you just bounce back like a T-1000?”

He scoffs, “No, getting shot at is a bit of an inconvenience for me.”

“Wrong line of work.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “You’re telling me.”

You turn your head to him, “Why do you do it then?”

He looks back at you earnestly. “Someone has to.”

“Someone does.”

He tenses up a bit at that, breaking eye contact. “Not well enough.”

Your head slowly lulls and drops into a rest on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen up a bit more before almost completely relaxing.

“So violence is the answer to violence?” you ask, not argumentative, just genuinely musing.

Hood sighs, “Half-assed reform programs didn’t do anything, shitty ‘crisis interventions’ didn’t do anything, the cops sure as hell don’t do anything.” He shrugs under you. “You run out of options eventually.”

“And that’s why you took it upon yourself to intervene?”

“Mm. ‘When reason fails, the devil helps.’” He says, quite melodramatically, in your opinion.

“I-Is that—” you squint, shooting off of his shoulder to look him in the eye. “You spend your nights getting in street fights and shootouts and you spend your days reading Crime and Punishment of all things?” You gawk at him, “That explains a lot about your disposition.”

He shrugs with a shake of his head. “It’s a rough world. Can’t afford to be reading about Hogwarts.”

You pause, combing through your next words, “‘Man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn’t calculate his happiness.’”

His eyes crinkle under his mask as he smiles, clearly pleasantly surprised that you know your shit. “Touché.”

You grin back, pleased with yourself.

There’s a brief recession where your smiles both get caught in the flicker between on and off, where your eyes take the opportunity to scan over each other’s faces.

You realize that this may be the first time you’ve seen him properly smile and it’s so magnetizing. So much so that you don’t realize you’re staring at his lips until your eyes snap back up to his and find that his are on yours.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he nudges you a bit with his shoulder. It does just enough to break the trance, giving you the cue to rest your head on him again. This time you allow more of your weight to lean against him and he actually seems relaxed for once.

You glance at the clock on the wall without moving and realize it’s almost four in the morning. “I’m tired, Hood.” you mumble into his shirt.

“You don’t—” he falters for a moment, “You don’t have to call me that.”

You squint at him, “What should I call you then?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “J.”

“J?” you whisper, like it’s a grave secret. You guess it kind of is.

He nods.

“Okay.” Your cheek flattens against his shoulder. “J.”

You nearly think you’re imagining it when you feel him rest his head against yours.

“You don’t know how to protect yourself?”

You roll your eyes at him, “You saw the way I swung at you with the baseball bat, what do you think?”

It’s only just after sunset, you could still see some purple-pink hues in the sky if you looked out the window. He’s started showing up before patrol some nights, saying he felt bad about waking you up at 3 am multiple times a week. So now, he mostly only drops in late if he’s a manageable amount of injured.

You stand in the middle of your living room together, after you’d made a joke about needing him as a bodyguard in Gotham. As it turns out, that was a one way street to him finding out that you’re useless in a fight.

“I was hoping you were having an off night because you just woke up, but now I'm concerned.” He says, grimacing.

You shrug, “I carry pepper spray.”

He grumbles, displeased. “Put your hands up.”

You drop your head to the side and glower at him, “Really?”

He raises his eyebrows at you. Just do it.

Alright, you’ll humor him. You put your fists up and he holds his hands open in front of you in kind. You throw a light punch.

“Come on, put your weight behind it.”

You do, hitting his hand harder. “Hood—”

He tilts his head forward at that, looking at you through his brows.

You inhale impatiently, “J, Why do we have to do this? I don’t have any illusions that I could knock you out and I can’t imagine you do either.”

He shakes his head, “It’s not about knocking someone out, it’s about defending yourself. Gonna be a hell of a lot harder to hurt you if you’re throwing punches. Harder.”

You give a raised hum, “Not if they have a gun…”

“Well, we’ll work on that too.”

You groan, throwing a half-assed hit. “Where’d you learn to fight?” You ask before throwing another.

“Turn your body into it.” He corrects. “My, uh, my dad taught me.”

You hum, hitting him again. “Are you guys close?”

“You’re being nosy again.” He grunts amidst a hit.

“You’re being evasive again.” You shoot back.

He drops his hands, taking your wrists in his, “Here, put your hands in front of your face when you shoot so you can block counters.” He tells you, adjusting your stance accordingly.

You make a face, “I’m confused, am I fighting a mugger or a kickboxer?”

He ignores you, moving his hands around to give you different angles to hit at.

You go at it for a few minutes, taking his critiques with reluctant concedence. “Alright, that’s good.” He says, relaxing his body.

You perk up, “We’re done?”

“No,” he shuts you down before asking earnestly, “Do you trust me?”

Your brain hadn’t even fully processed the question before you nod, mumbling a ‘yes’. He takes a measured step closer to you, watching carefully for your reaction. You almost back up in surprise, angling your head up further to look at him properly. You give no objection, so he continues, “I want you to try to get me on the ground.”

You let out a sound that’s half-laugh, half-scoff. “You’re twice my size.”

He sighs, looking at you somberly. “Sweetheart, odds are you’re not going to be evenly matched against someone that wants to hurt you. You get ‘em on the ground ‘n you have the upper hand or it’ll give you time to get away.”

You throw your hands up at your sides, “I don’t—” You huff, “Fine, okay.” You try to trip him by sliding your leg behind his and kicking, but he blocks you expertly.

You, against better judgment, shove your shoulder into his side, though it does nothing to phase him, let alone knock him down.

“You gotta get more creative than that.” He chastises with a tut.

In response, you take a step back to reassess the situation. You try to maintain a poker face as you strategize in your head. You make a dive for his legs, wrapping your arms around the back of his legs and pulling hard to make him lose balance. You’re sure if he were actually trying for a damn you would immediately be done for afterwards, but it does make him wobble. You then throw all of your weight against him, pushing him backwards and causing him to hit the floor with a thud.

He probably allowed for gravity to come to your aid, but he lands on his back all the same. You land half on him, half on the carpet, your hand resting on his chest. He looks up at you nodding, “Good. That was good, sweetheart.”

You smile, quite proud of yourself, and start to stand up when he hooks his arm around the back of your knee and pulls you to the ground too, switching places with you. You hit the ground gently with a sigh, “Really?”

He has one hand rested next to your head to balance him in his place above you. He smirks down at you and lets a tussle of white hair hang over his forehead. “Can’t be getting cocky, sweetheart.”

You laugh sourly, “Coming from you?”

You quickly push at the bend of his arm and use the distraction to adjust your position to wrap your legs around his center and push your arm against his chest in an attempt to rotate him off of you.

He counters you by pushing your shoulder down, holding you down to the floor. His opposite hand flies to pull your forearm away from his chest, pinning it next to your head, careful to avoid your hair. He moves so quickly that you have half a mind to think he acted on pure instinct. That, and the look on his face when the dust settles says that he hadn’t intended for you to end up in this position.

Your legs are still wrapped around him and you’re too frozen in the moment to make any changes. He’s in no more of a rush to move, large frame towering over you. You feel his touch stutter against your shoulder, his eyes flickering across your face.

You gaze up at him, taking in the soft look in his eyes behind the mask. You think you can see more green than you did before. You unwrap your legs from around his waist and slowly start to sit up. He releases your wrist and eases the pressure on your shoulder. He leans back half as quickly as you move forward, stopping when you’re propped up on your elbows.

Your faces are only a few inches apart and it feels like your only option is to look down at his lips. You have a feeling he’s doing the same to you. The adrenaline of the hassle has long since faded but the rhythm in both of your chests remains quick.

He leans forward so barely, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. “J…” you say breathily, not sure what implication you’re aiming for.

He stills and this time you’re sure he’s looking at your lips. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to come back to himself and inches his face away from yours slowly.

You let the hold in your breath release, disappointed more than anything. He eases off the floor to a stand and holds his hand out to help you up too. You take it with more of a frown than you’d meant to let out and rise to your feet.

“Let’s, uh…” He looks at the ground before taking a step back and putting his hands up again. “Let’s try some combos.”

You blink up at him for a second before raising your hands too.

Alright, one step at a time.

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