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draconic-desire · 3 months

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A Dance With the Dragon I — The Tides Beckon

Yandere Neuvillette x Reader

[Part I — You are here] [Part II] [Part III]

The last thing you expected was to have caught the eye of Fontaine’s Chief Justice. You have no choice but to be swept into the dragon’s dance.

Warnings: Yandere tendencies, possessive behavior, forced imprisonment, unrequited relationship

It all started with your realization that Fontaine has some rather intriguing laws.

For as long as you could recall, you had aspired to become a marine biologist. Though you hailed from Mondstadt, you forged your curiosity in the tide pools and lakes around the edges of the region. You scoured over any novel you could find on marine ecology and animal behavior, spending endless hours lost in the Knights of Favonius library. On your thirteenth birthday, your parents bought you a Kamera, which launched your career in wildlife photography and research. You even went on to publish a book cataloguing pictures of your nation’s aquatic life. It came to no one’s surprise, then, when you were gifted with a hydro vision.

Although you loved your life in Mondstadt, the vast waters that surrounded the Land of Hydro beckoned you like the pull of a tide. So, on your twenty-fifth birthday, you parted with your family and homeland, traversing across Teyvat and experiencing its many wonders. You relished in the culture and cuisine in Liyue and marveled at the natural architecture of Sumeru’s forests. Yet nothing would ever be as breathtaking as your first glimpse at Fontaine, at the granite peaks rising above the crystalline waters teeming with life of all forms.

You had secured employment with a group researching the sudden uptick in seal strandings across the nation, taking you across Fontaine’s many beaches. Your main base was located near Romaritime Harbor, which prompted you to spend your lunch breaks exploring the Court of Fontaine.

You made quick friends with the Melusines, some of whom were still a bit nervous being around humans; however, you found their stories of the ocean fascinating and often invited them to join you for lunches or strolls through the city.

One in particular, Carole, had become your close friend after you encountered her being pelted with rocks by a mob of Fontainians. You didn’t hesitate to use your vision to immobilize the rocks and create a barrier around Carole, quickly ushering her to safety. You couldn’t comprehend the prejudices directed towards her and the other Melusines, but after that incident, you made sure to keep an eye out for all of your little friends.

One day, on one of your walks, you ran into said Melusine. She seemed despondent that only a handful of citizens were interested in her hand painted posters, so you decided to treat her to lunch and pastries to cheer her up. That’s when you first caught wind of the Hydro Dragon.

“Well, if you’re worried about the seals, you might call upon the Hydro Sovereign himself!” Carole chirped.

You tipped your head curiously, lowering the cup in your hands onto the cafe table. “Don’t you mean herself? Although I’ve never met the Hydro Archon, I’ve heard others refer to her as ‘Lady’ Furina.”

Carole shook her hands back and forth in front of her. “Oh, no, I mean the Hydro Dragon! He is responsible for keeping watch over Fontaine, which includes all of its resources and residents. I’ve heard that with every sea creature that passes, the heavens open and the dragon sheds his tears in mourning.” She took a bite of her croissant. “I have a feeling he’d be willing to help.”

You tapped your chin in thought. “You don’t say. Well, we are in a bit of a drought, which could be contributing to the beachings… Perhaps I’ll ask this Hydro Sovereign for his favor.”

On the days you were dispatched to Fontaine’s eastern beaches, you opted to sit by the Fountain of Lucine to wish for the Hydro Dragon’s help. It had become a tradition for you to do so ever since your conversation with Carole, for you swore that every time you prayed to his name, rain would grace the shores the next day.

During those research trips, your coworkers would invite you to attend trials at the Opera Epiclese, though you politely declined each time. You had no particular interest in the Opera and were much more inclined to spending your time outside and uninvolved with the court’s theatrics. Besides, you considered yourself to be a model citizen, so the proceedings of the court were beyond your worries.

Or so you thought.

~*~

The incident that led to your arrest was the violation of the order “no domestic pets shall be named after Furina”. Apparently the otter that paddled around the Harbor each morning was undignified of the title of “Focalotter”. You had thought the name quite clever and humorous—that is, until a horde of Gardes surrounded you during your shift one afternoon.

You were detained and led into the Opera immediately, which was where you currently found yourself. You frowned at the relatively large crowd—which, much to your dismay, included most of your coworkers—dispersed throughout the hall. Had they all come just to spectate your trial? Standing alone on the isolated balcony, you felt like an insect under a magnifying glass, an insignificant pest to be probed at for entertainment.

“And how do you plead?”

The deep, commanding voice above you wrenched you from your thoughts. Turning your eyes up, your (e/c) orbs were met with a penetrating gaze.

Pinning you with his lavender and silver eyes from atop his chair at the center of the court was none other than the Chief Justice of Fontaine, the Iudex himself, the face of the law in the Court. Monsieur Neuvillette.

This wasn’t your first interaction with the man.

Shortly your move to Fontaine, you had stumbled across his path. At first, it was just sightings from afar; he would be leaving the Opera, or purchasing a drink (Wait, is he paying for water?) from your favorite cafe. Your favorite flowers also began to appear at your doorstep, each time with a brief, cryptic note, usually something along the lines of To my little pearl —Sincerely, your guardian dragon. You didn’t think anything of it; if anything, it confirmed that your prayers to the Hydro Sovereign had been heard.

Then, however, Neuvillette began to periodically show up around your research stations, claiming to be investigating a court case. Even though the Iudex’s public appearances were supposedly rare, none of your coworkers, yourself included, thought to question his authority, answering his inquiries regarding the base’s activities to the best of your abilities.

You noticed that he tended to speak to you the most, even asking personal inquiries like your favorite drinks, foods, books, and hobbies, and about your marine photography especially. It must be part of the investigation, you rationalized. He was nothing but gentlemanly and always kept conversations curt and to the point, offering you a gentle smile as he departed.

If only you knew the true extent of his desires.

~*~

Naturally, he first caught wind of you from the Melusines. As his closest advisor, Carole regularly joined him for afternoon tea, and though he was not one for idle talk, the manner in which his friend spoke of you sparked his intrigue.

“And when those meanies were throwing rocks at me, (Y/n) was the only one who intervened! If it weren’t for her, I don’t know what would have happened…” Carole rubbed her head, as if remembering the sharp pain.

Neuvillette placed a hand over his heart. “I am eternally grateful for her presence. I cannot stand the thought of any harm befalling you.” The hydro dragon looked out the window of his study to the ocean, deep in thought. “Perhaps you could introduce me. It appears I have much to thank her for.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Carole raised a finger. “She mentioned lots of seal beachings recently, so I suggested that requesting rain from a certain dragon could assist her work!”

Neuvillette nodded, a slight smile pulling at his lips. “Ah, so that is why I’ve been hearing Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon echoing throughout my mind the past few weeks. You have quite the imagination, my friend.”

Carole shrugged playfully. “Hasn’t it been raining more often lately? Seems like her prayers worked!”

That they had, as Neuvillette could attest to.

The first time he heard your soft voice calling to him, he had sent rain the following morning—not for you, but for the seals. His position barred him from forming close relationships with humans, so the notion of attending to your inquiry face-to-face was eliminated immediately.

But when you returned again and again to implore for rain, he couldn’t deny his interest. The day after Carole informed him that his little supplicant and Carole’s hero were one in the same, he knew he had to meet you. He had actually left the Opera to see you for himself; whether he would actually converse with you was still uncertain, but your voice tickled an itch that he needed to scratched.

Neuvillette was an experienced and composed man, but setting his sights on you for the first time stole his breath. This, he thought, must be what it feels like to drown.

Your smile shone brighter than a Beryl conch, and your scent floated around him, sweeter than any marcotte. The light shimmering from the hydro vision on your hip reflected back in your eyes, giving them the appearance of twin pools of blue. You were sitting on a bench by the Fountain, a Kamera in hand as you gestured excitedly towards the screen. To your right was a Melusine he knew well, Kiara, who was clearly enraptured with the technology.

Though he knew of your kindness towards the Melusines—jumping in to save Carole alone was grounds for a medal of peace—seeing it before him sent the waters around his heart roiling. The Iudex was moved by the fact that, despite being a foreigner to Fontaine’s customs, you treated them with the utmost respect, going out of your way to befriend and include them in your daily life. Many citizens of Fontaine still harbored prejudice against the Melusines, but you… You even used she/her pronouns when referring to them, implementing the very law that he set forth.

“I use this for my research on seal behavior and conservation,” you explained to Kiara. “Having pictures of each individual helps us identify them in the future. We even give them silly names sometimes. See this one here? We call him Mr. Sealie, and this otter I like to call…”

When the pink Melusine started giggling over the nickname of your otter, a plan formed in his mind.

Whether attributable to his sense of justice or his draconic instincts, he knew one thing for certain. Like a shining pearl, you must be cherished and protected—and who better to serve than the Hydro Sovereign?

~*~

Those eyes will be my downfall.

Purple and silver locked with (e/c). Despite being newly appointed to the court, Neuvillette was the embodiment of both poise and intimidation. The very air around him seemed to shimmer with power and unyielding authority. His breathtaking eyes swirled with emotions—was that desire or disinterest?—you could not even begin to decipher in your current position.

Archons, help me.

You cleared your throat, hoping you didn’t appear too nervous in front of the judge. “Although I admit to using a version of the Hydro Archon’s name when referring to that otter, I was unaware of such a law against doing so. I’m not originally from Fontaine, so some of its, uh…lesser discussed laws are new to me.”

Neuvillette gazed around the courtroom as the crowd devoured the trial before them. It was baffling how naive humans could be sometimes; of course there was no rule against applying a silly nickname to a pet.

That is, until this morning when he had signed it into law.

Seeing you frightened and alone in the defendant’s box, however, was torture. It took all of his willpower to not to engulf you in his strong arms like waves around sand. But he had to maintain the facade of immovable judicator for a bit longer in order to mold you to his tide. Retaining his mask of composure, Neuvillette continued, “You do realize that previous defendants have been jailed for far less, correct?”

Frustration and fear flared within you. “But I—”

“Desecration of Lady Furina’s name is of the highest offense. Your behavior will not be excused, neither by myself nor the Oratrice.” Neuvillette raised the paper with your verdict, barely glancing over the words before he spoke. “The verdict stands: you, (Y/n) (L/n), are guilty.”

You clenched your fists heatedly. There was no arguing with the Iudex. Clearly, the polite and considerate version of Neuvillette that you had encountered earlier was an anomaly, for the figure looming above you was the complete opposite. Cold, calculating. Distant. A whirlpool cresting a bottomless sea.

Had this been his plan all along? Had you been the subject of his investigation? But why?

“However, because you are not from Fontaine, I will offer you a choice.”

You blinked up at the Justice, a knot of unease forming in your stomach. A choice? What choice did you truly have here? You pursed your lips warily but nodded for him to continue.

Neuvillete raised a gloved finger. “The first: you will serve a life sentence in the Fortress of Meropide.”

A wave of despair seared your insides like a brand. That was your fate? To be trapped beneath the region where you had always longed to live, never to feel the salty wind on your face or hear the calls of seals and gulls again? Surely, the second option was less cruel?

“Or, alternatively: you will dedicate your life to the court. You will abide by its laws without question and with unwavering commitment. You will relinquish your freedom; you will not be permitted to leave Fontaine and will be bound to this place for eternity.”

A choked sob escaped your lips. No matter what you chose, your life’s work and passion would be extinguished. You would be forced to either become an actress in the court’s performance or resign your soul to a watery grave.

Both option chained you to the Region of Hydro forever.

But one option at least granted you a semblance of freedom—a notion that you soon learned was as transitory as a bubble in water.

The crack of a cane against wood resounded through the Opera, quickly silencing the crowd’s mutterings over your sentence. “What is your decision?”

You could have heard a pin drop as the audience waited in rapt anticipation for your answer.

“I…I choose the latter,” you declared, tilting your chin up. You maintained direct eye contact with the Iudex all the while, holding onto your last bit of pride.

You could have sworn you saw Neuvillette release a breath of relief. “Very well. I hereby adjourn the court. Gardes, please escort the defendant to my office for further instruction.”

Two Gardes led you out of the Opera and onto an Aquabus to the city. They informed you that you would now be living in the Palais Mermonia and your duties would begin immediately. When you asked about retrieving your belongings and notifying your family, the Gardes exchanged glances.

“That won’t be necessary,” one said cryptically. “Monsieur Neuvillette will page your relatives and have your possessions seized.”

You frowned, wishing to object, but the Palais doors loomed before you like the entrance to a monster’s lair. You gulped but swallowed your fears, straightening your back pridefully as you were ushered inside and into the Chief Justice’s office. The bolting of the lock from the outside set alarm bells off immediately.

Neuvillette stood from his seat as you walked in. He coughed awkwardly, red dusting across his pale complexion. “Ah, Lady (Y/n). I do apologize for such a fast-paced series of events. You must be exhausted.” He motioned towards the sofa adjacent to his workspace. “Please, sit.”

You blinked at him in surprise. What happened to the unwavering judge from the court? Why was he suddenly treating you kindly? And why in the Archons’ names was he blushing of all things? Unsure how else to react, you obeyed and settled into your seat, with Neuvillette taking his own on the sofa across from you.

Neuvillette poured you a glass of what appeared to be plain water into an exquisitely ornamented cup. You took it wordlessly, noticing his eyes flare with a silver glow when your fingers brushed his own. Gripping his own cup, he raised the chalice towards you. “To a long and dedicated future together.”

You sketched a brow curiously but raised your glass in tandem to…whatever that was supposed to mean. “To not being in prison, I guess.”

“Indeed.” A breathy chuckle followed. “Now, I’m sure you’re wondering as to what this whole business regarding your sentence is.” Neuvillette took a long sip from his chalice. He frowned slightly when you simply placed yours on the coffee table separating the two of you. “Although you may have thought you’d be completing droll office work, your duties will be a tad unorthodox.”

At this, your brows furrowed. Wasn’t that what all those employees you had passed in the Palais foyer had been doing—pushing papers? You had cringed at the dark bags under many of their eyes, at how many were asleep at their desks, imagining how similar you’ll look once your sentence was completed. But based on Neuvillette’s words, it sounded like you would be doing something very different.

Oh, Archons. I’m fucked.

You braced yourself to speak, but Neuvillette beat you to it.

“You are to be my wife.”

You blinked once, twice, waiting for the punchline of the joke.

Neuvillette merely stared at you with his hands folded across his lap, waiting for your response.

After a pregnant pause, you couldn’t help the stunned scoff that escaped your lips. “You can’t be serious.”

“Quite, I’m afraid.”

You shook your head. “With all due respect, Monsieur—”

“Please, call me Neuvillette.”

Ignoring him, you continued, “I did not agree to be your wife.”

The Chief Justice leaned back against the posh blue cushions of the sofa. “Although that may be the case, you are in no position to refuse. In fact, your sentence mandates that you follow my orders.”

You stood abruptly, sending your goblet toppling over and spilling its contents across the table. “Marriage was not a part of that sentence.” Which was ridiculous to begin with, you added to yourself. I mean, a life sentence for a pet name? It’s almost like he wanted me arrested.

Neuvillette sighed and flicked his wrist, causing the chalice to right itself and the water to refill. “Marriage is the highest form of dedication, no? Is that not what you pledged to?”

“I dedicated my life to the court,” you clarified.

“My dear, I am the court.”

You emitted a low hiss, turning to the door. “I’m leaving.”

Before you could take more than a step, Neuvillette moved towards you faster than a crack of lightning across the sea. His large frame straddled yours, pinning you against the sofa. He grabbed your dominant wrist, a foreign bubbling under your skin erecting the hairs on your arms. Your mind reached out for your hydro powers to defend yourself, only to be crushed with the realization that your vision had been confiscated at the court.

Despite your struggles, you could only watch in terror as a glowing silver-blue mark in the shape of a dragon burned across the length of your arm. The leviathan’s scaly body twisted in ringlets up your forearm and bicep, ending in a slender head with twin horns that crested your shoulder.

As soon as Neuvillette loosed his grip, you shoved him away, panting heavily. The mark had already disappeared, but you could still feel the ghost of it under your skin.“What have you done?” you whispered breathlessly.

In total contrast to your own contorted expression, Neuvillette appeared completely calm. He smoothed out his robes and adjusted his jabot. “I have lived for centuries, and I have many centuries more. I’ve merely gifted some of them to you.”

Your body began to shake, from fear, sadness, or rage you did not know. “I don’t want them.”

“You do remember that you promised to serve the court for eternity, don’t you? How do you expect to persist by my side otherwise?”

Eyes locked on the exit, you tried for a different tactic. “Take me to the Fortress of Meropide.”

Neuvillette’s expression darkened, his patience clearly thinning. “I will not.”

Your eyes shifted back to his. Although Neuvillette intimidated you beyond belief, you’d be damned if you didn’t go down without fighting for your life’s hard work. “I want to change my sentence.”

He glanced down at your arm. “It’s a bit too late for that, my dear.” Taking your hand in his, he pulled you to his chest. His form towered over you, capable of resting his chin on the top of your head. “Please, understand. I mean to keep you from harm, even if it means being your jailor.”

“You’re insane,” you hissed, futility attempting to pull away. “Let go of me!”

Neuvillette’s grip was relentless. You stilled when you felt claws ghost up your back in a silent warning. “That is one thing I will never do.”

The fight in you slowly ebbed away—for now. Your resistance was clearly moot, like a gnat trying to down a dragon. You’d have to play the long game to learn how to get under his skin—and how to rid your own of this new mark. “I will find a way out of this,” was all you could promise, refusing to meet his eyes.

A deep sigh sounded above you. Neuvillette took a step back, looking at you with such longing you thought you’d combust on the spot. With one last stroke of your cheek, he strode towards the office’s exit and unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist. Looking over his shoulder, he fixed you with a forlorn gaze. “By the time you realize your place here, there will be nothing for you to escape to. Only I will remain.” He once more turned his back to you and stepped out of the room.

You suddenly paled, realizing the implication of his words. If his declaration was true and you were to live as long as him, then your family, your career, the world as you know it would be completely gone. Your only company, your only solace, the only one who would remember your name, would be him. “Wait, no, you can’t—!”

He closed the doors.

~*~

Neuvillette was many things, but a liar was not one of them.

True to his word, you remained locked almost exclusively in the Palais Mermonia. On the rare occasions he let you outside, the Iudex served as your only company, diligently making sure you were hidden. Your vision was permanently taken, supposedly to prevent danger to yourself. It didn’t go unnoticed when he would wear it on his hip at important or potentially volatile trials. When you finally asked—or growled at him, really—why he kept it on his person, he had merely frowned and replied, “I originally thought the idea of a fake vision preposterous, I admit. I have no need for one. Yet having it feels as if you are constantly by my side.”

The draconic tattoo he had branded onto your arm not only extended your lifespan but also gave you a minuscule drop of his abilities—though only when you were in his presence (and most definitely not against him—you had tried). That allowed the two of you to transport to and breath in the depths of Fontaine whenever you begged to go out. In his mind, it was perfect—not only was the sea his realm, but no one and nothing could touch you. You were his alone to hold, to see, to have.

Those trips were torture for you. Free, but trapped; floating, but tied down to the man who was supposed to be the symbol of justice.

You, on the other hand, had tried a variety of (fruitless) tactics to convince the judge to free you. Any attempt at conversation or advance in his part was met with either vitriol or indifference on your part. You had once tried to charm him into letting his guard down, hoping you could sneak away while he was preoccupied at the court. This plan epically backfired on you when he mistook your subtle touches as permission to devour you with kisses and love bites, covering you in bruises from his sharp teeth for the next week. You wouldn’t so much as let him tap your shoulder for the next month after—the spark of silver in his eyes while he kissed you foretold of a deep, overwhelming desire that far surpassed simple kisses. You feared what might occur if the composed Chief Justice were given the opportunity to release his more primal urges.

And so, each day was passed much in the same:

1) Wake up on the floor or couch of his suite in the Palais—like hell you’d be sharing a bed with him. Oh, how he had tried in the beginning to usher you into bed, into his arms. It was childish, yes, but at least your refusal have you some semblance of autonomy.

2) Ponder on how you would greet Neuvillette that day.

3) Choose between fury or pretending he didn’t exist, typically the latter.

4) Look for a way to escape after he left for the Opera. Fail.

5) Spend most of the day scouring court cases in his office for clues to overturn your cause. Fail again.

6) Look out the window pitifully at the water beyond the Court of Fontaine (were the levels rising?). You often thought of your family back in Mondstadt; what were they told of your imprisonment, if anything? How long had you been stuck with the Chief Justice? The days blurred like ink in water.

7) Immediately exit the office towards his attached suite the moment he returned—any other room was preferable to his suffocating presence.

Today, though, he had chosen to interrupt your musings out the window before you could make your exit.

“You know, I find the beauty of the bright sunlight is best appreciated from the indoors through a window.”

Turning your head from the glass pane, your attention was brought to the figure standing in the doorway. He was wearing nothing but a simple pair of dark blue slacks and a white tunic, his robes hooked over his arm. At the start of your captivity you had mused how strange it was to see him without his normal ornamentation; now his comparatively plain appearance was a daily sight for you.

You crossed your arms and leaned against the window, relishing the heat from the coastal sun against your back. It was nothing like the dark pits he practically dragged you to now that you could breathe underwater. “Personally, I prefer to enjoy it with the company of a cool breeze by the shoreline.”

The Chief Justice loosed a deep sigh as he approached you. He extended his palm, caressing your cheek gently. “If you desire it so, I will rearrange some meetings and escort you—”

Below the waves, where he clung to you like a Lumitoile to a rock? “No need. Present company would ruin the experience. I prefer to be above water.”

Neuvillette had the audacity to wince at your retort. “So you instead choose to wallow in your self-inflicted solitude?”

You wanted to laugh at the hurt edge to his voice. Self-inflicted your ass—every moment of your life now centered on him, depended on his permission. Solitude was a disguise for any reprieve you could get from his constant attempts to court you.

The ironic part was that, if he had approached you normally, you could have seen yourself falling for him. He brought and cooked your favorite foods and beverages, showered you with gifts and books on photography, and tried his utmost to make you comfortable.

But you knew it was as nothing but glitter in a gilded cage. Neuvillette had drowned your whole world. So no, you wouldn’t act like any of this is normal.

Resisting the urge to bite his bare hand, you glared at your captor. “You could simply, oh, I don’t know, let me go.”

Neuvillette’s jaw tightened. His patience might run deeper than the Trench of Elton, but it was not everlasting. “We’ve discussed this.”

At that, you shrugged his hand off. “Can I at least speak with my family? My friends?”

A pained look flickered across Neuvillette’s face. “That isn’t possible.”

Your lip curled in response to his expression. “Don’t act like you actually care.”

Pursing his lips, he settled onto the window seat next to you. Though you were twitching with the urge to escape, he placed a large hand on your thigh, a gentle warning. “(Y/n), there’s something we must discuss.”

You narrowed your eyes, though your heart rate spiked. By now, he recognized your silence as a sign to continue.

“Do you wish to walk around the Court of Fontaine with me?”

Blinking, your throat dried. You swore you heard him wrong. “I’m sorry?”

Neuvillette squeezed your leg in what he thought was a comforting manner. His eyes—fuck, you had to admit they were wickedly beautiful, silver and sharp as a sword—never left your own. “You have been justified in your anger with me. I have restricted you for far too long. I would like to extend an olive branch, if you will—an agreement that we will both retain civility. I will grant you freedoms, but you must adhere to your sentence. Any deviation will not be tolerated.”

Your head was spinning, so you didn’t even consider the implications of his words. He was letting you out. “Can we go now?”

Neuvillette smiled softly. “Of course.” Standing, he offered you a hand. You tentatively took it, more awestruck than anything as he unlocked the doors to the outside. You’d finally get to see your family, your colleagues, the sun—!

Fontaine was unrecognizable.

The last time you seen the square of the Statue of the Seven, the roads were cobblestone. Now, strange machines roamed the paved streets, clearly serving as sentinels. None of the shops or restaurants were familiar—your favorite coffee shop, where you had so many chats with Carole, was now boasting signs for upscale fashion. A Melusine hopped by, wearing a Garde’s uniform, something that you remembered as being rare due to the increased chances of them being targeted. Your heart rate spiked in worry when the Melusine approached a group of children and their parents, only for a stunned expression to hit you when the creature was hugged by a little girl, her parents cooing in delight.

“Where…what?” you stammered. Fontaine had seemingly changed overnight—at least in your experience of time. Dread pooled in your stomach.

You attempted to pull your arm away from him, but his grip on you was steadfast. That same pained look from before marred his handsome features. “I did not lie when I said you have nothing to return to.” The Chief Justice sounded melancholic—he wished it hadn’t come to this, but he had to eliminate any prompts for you to leave.

“No, no.” Your heart dropped. “What… What year is it?”

The silence that followed was all you needed to know.

“How many years has it been, Neuvillette?” you repeated, your voice cracking with a desperate tone.

For once, Neuvillette avoided eye contact with you. He simply gestured towards a bulletin board, where the latest issue of The Steambird (at least one thing was consistent) was posted. You tore it from its pin, choking back a sob as you read the date.

Hands shaking, the issue fell to the ground. It landed in a puddle, its edges slowing soaking and blurring the ink. A steady rain had started to fall, quickly turning into a torrential downpour.

It had been over four hundred years since Neuvillette had taken you.

If it weren’t for Neuvillete’s hand on your hip, you would have crumpled to your knees. “H-how?”

Neuvillete looked to the skies solemnly. “Time passes differently for us long-lived species.” You cringed at his use of us, and how he actually sounded remorseful. “But this is our opportunity for a fresh start.”

Silent tears streamed down your face. For what could you do? Everyone and everything you knew was gone. Lost to the sea of time forever. You had nothing.

He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, placing a delicate kiss on the top of your head. “Cry not, my little pearl. No matter how many centuries pass, you will always have me.”

~*~

Neuvillette was many things.

And now, just as he dreamed since the moment he set his eyes on you, he was your everything.

And yet, you refused to drown.

As the years flowed like water through a stream, you began to learn the beat of Neuvillette’s dance. His emotions, his moods, his thoughts, all reflected themselves within the waltz of his life, and soon maneuvering around the steps became second nature to you. The balance of power laid within the count, and you were determined to be the one leading,

The dragon wanted to dance? So be it.

You’d give him the most challenging dance of his life.

#yandere #neuvillette #yandere neuvillette #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #fontaine #ao3 fanfic

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mondaymelon · 5 months

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first time in this account lol Idk if you're taking requests but I saw that post some minutes ago and... Idk, wanted to request something lol, if you didn't do it yet! What about headcanons with a reader who doesn't show physical attention until some years of knowing them? Like, they know each other for about 5 years and just then the reader decides to do some small act of physical affection... I wanted the headcanons to be with Childe, Arlecchino, Wanderer and Furina! If you can <3

₊˚ෆ 𝐈𝐅 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔… | childe, wanderer, arlecchino, furina x gn!reader

( childe's part might be a little ooc. havent done that part of the archon quest yet cries. also mwah arlecchino we love her in this household !! )

[ You were always someone who wasn’t fond of physical attention. Fleeting touches and kisses to the cheeks were never your forte, yet what should happen if the lover you’ve had for years is suddenly on the receiving end of such affections? ]

"physical affection... ah- it's okay if you can't show that to me, there's plenty of other ways to tell that you love me!"

CHILDE was the one to say those words to you, and the held the most certain truth. You were his lover, and a hug or two couldn't sway the fact! While the harbinger is quite the puppy and often yearns for your warmth, he'll respect your boundaries and allow you whatever. A lover like Childe places your happiness as a priority over his, wanting more to see your eyes sparkle than his own.

"Love, you wouldn't believe what happened in the courthouse today." You glance up from your spot where you're curled up on the couch, snuggled into a fluffy blanket and holding a warm drink in your hands, one of Inazuma's light novels sitting on the armrest. You hear the door to the two of you's home shut and lock, and listen to... Childe's footsteps. How strange, is he stumbling?

Glancing up, you internally gape at the cuts on his body, your eyes instantly drawn at the red splattered across his features. "'Taglia, what hap-"

He lets out a dry chuckle, grinning sheepishly as he rids his shoes at the door. "No worries, the blood isn't mine. Most of it, at least. I managed to get out of there in time, so all's well, yeah?"

As if that'd provide you any comfort. You narrow your eyes, glaring at him unyieldingly, until Childe has no choice but to force out another tasteless chuckle. "Come on now, I'm home, so let's do something fun instead of just being mad at me, 'kay?"

"Tartaglia."

The man flinches, his deep ocean eyes rounding. When you call him that and not his nickname, he knew that he had landed himself in deep shit. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." He says that, but the sentence rounds up in a change of his tone, sounding almost suspiciously like a question. "It won't happen aga-"

The world itself seems to stop.

Your head is buried into his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. Archons, can you hear how fast his heart is beating? You've made him into a complete and utter mess. He's blushing, his ears practically on fire, and any thoughts once in his brain have been seared away in single second. It takes him to the count of three to remember how to breathe once more, his chest erratically heaving up and down as his shaking arms wrap around you hesitantly, wondering if it'd be okay to do so.

"...Love?"

"Mhm?"

"I- I thought you-"

"If it's with you, I'm okay."

Oh, how those words tug at his heart. You look so perfect in his arms - yes, you looked simply perfect all the time, he'd admit in a split-second. The messy nest of hair atop your head when you woke up in the early mornings, the dark bags under your eyes when you didn't sleep until late at night, your smile, your laugh, even your scowl. It silenced any effort to not fall in love with you.

A smile tugs at his lips. A bright one, a warm one, if that was even possible. Perhaps his eyes are shining with tears, or perhaps it was merely a trick of light, but he holds you all the closer, not wanting to let you go.

"Love, I... Archons, I don't think I'd be able to love anyone but you." ₊˚ෆ

"..great. i don't want your filthy hands on me anyways, so there shouldn't be a problem, hm?"

WANDERER's words were just that, would it kill him to be a little nicer? It didn't matter... you knew your lover well, or at least well enough to tell that what he said wasn't the complete truth.

Sure, you had seen him shrug off and make expressions of disgust directed towards particularly touchy people that he'd become somewhat acquainted with. And you most certainly had witnessed his frustrated outbursts and rants when he returned home to your shared abode, whining and grumbling about any trivial error someone had made - that is, brushing fingers with him while passing him papers. Something that couldn't exactly be avoided, yet he had glared at the wall for a good amount all the same.

Ah, but then there were moments when he thought you weren't looking, and that was when his eyes would drink you in. Grazing over your eyes, to your lips, then to your hands, where'd they linger on your fingers for perhaps longer than they should.

And you'd catch the times where you were inclined to say something flirtatious - words that were never all that flirtatious in the first place, Wanderer just happened to be unusually susceptible. Chin resting on your hand, eyes staring into his, you'd say something about how pretty he was, and then he'd just about go into neurogenic shock, likely not speaking to you the rest of the day, the tips of his ears, if one squinted to a certain extent, pink.

"Love." You glance up at him, a slight pout fixed on your lips. He'd been immersed in minor tasks, and those pesky things were what stole his attention away from you. An ironic twist of fate, as you were usually the one to be drowning in work, and he'd be the one practically begging for affection.

He hums, yet doesn't even bother to look at you.

"Do you want to go for a walk?"

"No."

"Go get something to eat?"

"No."

"Visit the... House of Daena?"

"No."

"Shall we feed the finches?"

A slight pause. "...No."

"Then... let's hold hands?"

He froze at your words, and it seemed that the male lost the function of inhaling, for he sat there unmoving for what seemed like hours, his expression petrified in its form of his large eyes, raised eyebrows, and mouth slightly ajar.

"...Excuse me?" It seemed that he doubted his own ears, for he set his work aside and fixed his focus upon you, fingers trembling just the slightest.

"Hmph, have you suddenly forgotten how to think?" You frowned, yet your eyes curved into crescents all the same, and Wanderer felt his breath hitch at how ethereal you were. The sly fox you were, you took his moment of shock, settling by his side and intertwining your fingers with his. "Like this, is it not?" You were smiling now, and for the first time you glimpsed the red on his ears, but now on his face too, a rosy red descending upon his cheeks.

"What's..." Perhaps you were right. His vocabulary had suddenly dwindled, and now he had nothing but questions - that, and the growing warmth in his chest. "What do you think you're doing right now?"

Whatever attempt he had to sound "mean" had failed. You knew him too well for that. "Holding hands, what else? Your hands are cold you know-" And at that he flinched. "But it feels nice."

D...Did it really?

"You, no... love, let's stay like this. You're... warm." ₊˚ෆ

"when you sought me, i thought it'd be a serious matter. there's no trouble in it, truly, so there's no need to look so dejected."

ARLECCHINO hadn't even batted an eye. Was there a reason to? Yes, this certainly crossed off any thought of romantic couple things like kissing and hand holding, but it wasn't like she'd gasp dramatically and fall to the ground, blaming you for setting boundaries-

As if she'd ever. Your imagination was running wild today, perhaps it was the lack of sleep finally catching up to you? It was a stark contrast compared to Arlecchino, who went days without rest, shuffling through paper after paper on her desk and constantly relaying messages to her subordinates. She was a hard worker - a trait most easily overlooked, but it was a point of adoration for you. A point among many. Arlecchino was an easy person to love, despite the bristling thorns she'd show at first glance.

"Darling, a cup of tea, please?" Her gaze flicked up from her work to you, a thin smile decorating her lips. It was more a less a habit the two of you established - that is, pouring her tea. Her favorite cup was the one you had gifted her when you first started your relationship, shaded in a dark hue and embellished with roses, their blooms, petals, and thorny branches spreading across the expanse of porcelain. You placed said cup on her desk with a breath of satisfaction, tilting you head in questioning at the unusual amount of papers on her desk.

"Arle, did something happen?"

She merely chuckled to herself, her eyes shining with delight. "Ah, why don't you wager a guess?" You were her "subordinate" of sorts, although your true association was far more intimate. You knew of her plans with Fontaine, and helped carry them out. She revered your loyalty, but your warmth far more.

"...Has the hydro gnosis been secured?"

She snapped her fingers in one swift motion, her small smile widening into a true one that played across her ruby lips. "Correct, I'd expect nothing less of someone as capable as my lover."

"Then, Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet..."

"They've done well." It'd be hard to forsake the note of pride in her voice. Setting down the sheets in her gloved hands, she stood from her seat slowly, letting her eyes scan over your body. "You've asked your question, now shall I ask mine? Darling, I did quite well myself, did I not?"

Her expectant gaze read one thing, but instead of the usual quality time spending the two of you'd share, this time, you had rather differing plans. Smiling, you walked up to her, not letting the way her eyes sparkled just the slightest escape your sight. Promptly, sneakily, you flung yourself upon her, beaming as your hands found refuge winding about her torso, nearly instantly trapping her into your death hug. "You did, Arle~!"

"..." At her silence, you glanced up, only to be met with a sight that drew blush upon your own cheeks. Her usually composed, mystery-shroud features were now conflicted with crossing emotions... of what, however, was rather indecipherable. Arlecchino was a person of many masks, yet now it seemed that her "mask" displayed but one thing - love.

"Darling, I... you look perfect in my arms, so shall we stay like this a moment longer?" ₊˚ෆ

"is that so? a trivial matter, is it by law that i must hold you in my arms in order to prove my love for you?"

FURINA's multicolored irises and teardrop pupils twinkled, their shine dancing on the moonlit breeze. A hand daintily held a teacup, its fragrant contents swirling about the porcelain basin. Her laugh accompanied the cool evening wind, and she fluttered her eyes shut in a smile that brightened her expression. "Come now, why so shocked? Wouldn't this be expected from someone as benevolent as I?"

It was a scene that would remain forever painted in your mind, like a beautiful mural that one's eyes could not possibly forsake. The way her mouth tugged upwards and the manner in which her eyes curv-

"Hey, are you even listening to me right now?" A familiar voice tugged you out of your reminiscence of the confrontation months prior. Furina displayed a childish frown on her lips, her partly furrowed eyes sharpening her gaze into a rather particular one.

Oh, lost in thought once more. You let out a soft sigh, nodding sheepishly. "Yes, love, I am.."

"Mhm..." Your words left a no, you clearly aren't!" Furina sat up, her intensifying discontentment apparent on her features. "I said I got you access to front ticket seats to the hottest new court case! You know, the one involving the robbery... the one that's quite literally got the entire Steambird in a chokehold? Yet, you're not excited in the slightest!?" She sounded offended, and she likely was, for her cheeks were flushed the slightest in rash frustration and her narrowed eyes creased at their corners. "Appreciate my efforts, why don't you?"

"Appreciate" indeed.

Ah, but was a sudden, tight embrace overshooting it? For she tensed in your arms, her frame absolutely suspended in your hold, her slack jaw giving the slightest tremor. "Mon amour, just w-what are you-?"

"Come now, Furina, am I not permitted to hug my own lover now?" The jesting in your voice faded as the sarcastic grin on your face formed a smaller, more genuine one. "I'm... ah, I'm okay, if it's with you. I'll be okay."

She paused at your words, contemplation of them flashing in her gaze, and let out a gratified exhale. "Then..." she nearly melted in your embrace, leaning her head into your arms compliantly.

"Don't you dare think I've forgotten about your previous transgression, but... ah, it can be forgiven, can't it, mon amour?" ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) hc hc hc hc furina calls youfrench petnames because french oui oui baguette.. AHEM my sincerest apologies to any french or french speakers...

REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! please consider following me as i amm soosososoo close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be crazy if i could reach it before christmas!!!

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader

-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶

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moondirti · 4 days

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featuring: ghoap x nanny! f!reader. parenthood. adoption processes. fluff. slice of life. reader is given an age range

hear me out: simon and johnny transferring to reserve duty – i.e., serving the military on a part-time basis rather than being on active call – once they make the decision to become dads. it comes after a long period of deliberation (and healing on simon's part), but after they're absolutely sure that they want to start this next phase of life together, they call price to get it sorted.

who is thrilled for them, naturally, but warns that they still have a specialised commitment to the task force. if he needs them, then they best make sure they're there. the world isn't a better place yet, and no one can do what the pair does.

fine by them.

so it begins. instead of the complex and ethical choices that come with surrogacy, they opt for adoption and work with an attorney to facilitate the logistics. months of searching come up with a young mother, whose unwanted pregnancy has interfered with her life thus far, and is unwilling to make the further sacrifice that comes with keeping the baby. they must be more understanding, or otherwise less overbearing, than the other candidates – because two months later, they're in a hospital waiting room, anxiously lingering to meet the new addition to their family.

isla riley-mactavish. named after the river where johnny realised he'd be much happier with his lieutenant by his side.

the first few months are bliss. exhausting bliss, but a type of contentment that neither man has known since they first confessed to one another. isla's fussy through nights but they take turns settling her down, and if they have military duties to attend to then it's usually never at the same time. she's spoiled rotten – not just by them, but by the captain and gaz as well, who visit more often than not with bags full of toys they have nowhere to put. a little princess in the eyes of everyone who knows her.

by month five, she's teething and can hold her head up unsupported. simon reads somewhere that it's one of the most pivotal points in her development.

of course the call has to come then.

in the middle of the night, no less, and loud enough to wake her up from her crib. johnny scrambles to calm the bairn down as simon answers, price's grave voice crackling in from the other end. expected to be a long haul. a month at least. state security's at serious risk here, simon. i wouldn't ask you to come out otherwise.

and they made a promise. no matter how much it aches them to leave their darling girl behind.

rdv on base in a week.

he knows that one week is a matter of grace. he can feel the captain itching to hatch the operation as soon as possible, but has staved off to give the boys time to order their affairs. that doesn't mean simon's happy with the timeline, though. seven days is not nearly enough to find a sitter they can trust, especially given their own hindrances.

regardless, they send a job posting for a live-in, 24/7 nanny to close friends – no way in hell are they advertising it to the open internet – and hours later, johnny's sister lets them know of a girl who substitutes at the same primary school she works at. a real darling, apparently. honest 'n' stowed oot of energy, th' weans love her, and she haes experience with bairns too!

promising, but word of mouth isn't enough. they get a name and ask laswell to run a thorough background check. to their relief, it comes out squeaky clean. no arrests, no dui's, no shady travel history. modest socials with only a handful of followers. it's in line with what they know so far, solid enough to encourage them to reach out. so they do: just a brief email, asking what time and place would be best for a face-to-face interview.

they bring isla with them to the agreed meeting spot. a cozy cafe nestled in one of the safest parts of town. it's an early saturday morning and they're scheduled to leave in three days. so far, they've put all their eggs in this basket. johnny has to hold onto simon's hand when he notices the nerves dancing behind his partners usually void eyes. but if he were being honest with himself, he's just as scared.

they notice you as soon as they walk in.

sitting at a table for four, mug of coffee steaming as you bend over a well-loved book. despite your preoccupation, you're observant – they inch in your periphery and your head snaps up, a brilliant smile parting your lips as you spring up onto your feet. simon tallies a point on the ledger in his head. good. alert is good.

as is true for them, it's abundantly clear that you're who they're supposed to meet. johnny can't imagine anyone but a children's educator dressing like that: a gingham babydoll dress over a pair of blue tights, which carries over to the bow in your hair and is juxtaposed by the white oxford lace-ups on your feet. he startles when you extend your hand to shake his and he finds a painted fruit on each of your short nails. positively adorable. and so unlike anything they know.

simon shuffles next to him. isla reaches out from her bugaboo stroller, the colours having caught her eye.

"well hello there! aren't you just the cutest angel i've ever seen? do you like my dress?"

that's another point for immediately engaging with the object of your soon-to-be care. simon watches as you pull out a rattle from your purse, handing it over to the cooing baby. warmth blossoms in his chest, and his apprehension fizzles out in the heat. they hadn't told you they'd be bringing isla – opting to catch you off guard and seeing how you'd deal – so he assumes you carry the toy around for emergency purposes, like anyone else of their ilk would carry a gun.

something about that quirk just screams safe.

"it is a nice dress." johnny pursues, voice smooth in that way it gets when he's flirting but doesn't want it made clear. it took weeks for ghost to attune himself to it – he always just thought the scot spoke like that – but now that he's able to hear it for what it is, he shoots him a cautionary look. not so much mad as he is cautious. wouldn't want to scare her off.

"oh! thank you very much. it's my grandmother's design." you straighten up once isla gains a proper grip on the rattle, patting the skirt like you're basking in the praise. "shall we sit? i assume you have a lot to discuss, and i promise you'll want to try the maple scones they make here."

"please. after you." simon nods.

an hour later, you're giggling into your palm as johnny deviates into a story of the time they took isla to the hospital because they didn't know the soft spot on her head could pulse. simon is quiet in contrast, though not displeased. rather, he's focused on keeping the tally of all the green flags you've exhibited thus far. he doesn't mind that the conversation hasn't followed a typical interview format. in fact, people are more likely to show their true nature when in relaxed settings such as this, which is perhaps why johnny hasn't stuck to the script of questions they'd prepared beforehand. the man is better at social manoeuvring than simon is, anyway. he trusts him to direct this where it needs to go.

"it can be freaky! especially if you've never been around a child that young. i had a similar reaction the first time i babysat my neighbour's infant at sixteen. did you know that they can break out like teenagers? i noticed the poor thing's skin erupt in acne at just a month old and called his parent's crying." you wheeze, wiping the tears along your lashline.

"have ye worked wi' many bairns?"

"oh, yeah. it's been my primary source of income since secondary, all the way through uni. i just finished a master's degree in early childhood education, actually! and i wrote a list of referrals you can call if you need to double check on any of that." you rummage through your purse and pull out an apple-shaped sticky note. "do you mind if i ask what you do? people don't usually look for a full-time nanny unless they're really busy. not that i'm judging! i would ne–"

"military." simon interrupts, ensuring his tone is gentle enough to reassure.

"that makes sense! i mean, for an indefinite amount of time, the pay you're offering is more than perfect. above industry standard, really." you pause, brows furrowing like you're doubting whether you should have said that. "ah– whatever. anyway. isla is wonderful, just the sweetest. and the provided accommodation is an added plus. if you guys have no other qualms, then i'd love to accept the position."

"does i' bother you that there are cameras on the property? porch, kitchen, and living room. jus' for security's sake." simon tests, though he knows he doesn't need to, for extra measure. to someone with bad intentions, CCTV is a massive dealbreaker.

you don't hesitate before answering. "makes total sense! you guys are well within your right to check in at any time."

and they don't have to consult each other to know. johnny is practically buzzing in his seat, muscles flexed with enthusiasm as his gaze flits all over you. lingering on your chest in particular, before he looks over to simon and smiles in an offensively handsome way. simon can't help but smile back, crinkling his eyes more than necessary so the both of you can tell what's going on behind his mask.

it feels a little too good to be true, hopeful in a way that sets off the alarm bells in his head. he's stable enough to recognise that it isn't your fault, though. stable enough not to pin his distrust on you. this is likely the best shot they've got at ensuring their daughter's safety while they're away, and it's come in the form of a vivid, bright little blessing.

(with great tits.)

he'd be a fool to sabotage it.

johnny beats him to the cause. "ye'r hired."

#fashion wise im pulling from 'new girl' jess and 'me before you' louisa iykyk #as always my shit ends up way too long #ghoap x reader #simon ghost riley x reader x johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley x johnny soap mactavish #ghoap #simon riley #john mactavish #ghost #soap #x female reader #x reader

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depravitycentral · 4 months

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Yandere! Gyutaro NSFW Profile

Yandere! Gyutaro x fem! reader

Tw: non-con, dub-con, stalking, kidnapping, Gyutaro threatens a couple to let him watch them have sex, exhibitionism, masturbation, period sex, spitting, minor implications of somnophilia, mentions of physical violence, threats, murder, Gyutaro is a freak and likes to hold your hand during sex, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 13K

HABITS:

Generally speaking, Gyutaro has never really touched himself. Perhaps when he was younger, still a human and going through puberty, but for the vast, vast majority of Gyutaro’s life, his demon biology has rendered every sexual urge he feels dulled to the point of disappearing.

That said, he’s still able to grow jealous at hearing when human partners are intimate with one another, their moans and cries grating on his ears and making him scowl, anger simmering in his veins because why can’t he have that?

Sure, he could find some random human woman and take what he wants from her, but there’s something about the way humans clutch onto one another, moaning out praises and begging for more that enticing Gyutaro, making him feel shy and bashful and pissed because he knows that will never be him. He’ll never have a woman gasping his name in anything other than fear, and although he’s accepted it, he’s wildly jealous.

However, because his actual sexual urges themselves are diminished, Gyutaro more often finds himself jealous than horny – a stark difference between the two. And consequently, he has minimal experience with masturbation, and he frankly doesn’t care. His logistical situation with Daki makes finding the time to touch himself in his own private space extremely difficult. Plus, there’s something awfully pitiful about wrapping his fingers around his cock with the knowledge that they’ll only ever be his fingers, no one else’s – something that makes him warble and scratch himself bloody, effectively killing any libido he’d managed to feel.

But with all of that said, things begin changing once his infatuation with you develops. He’s not immediately wishing to fuck you, but as Gyutaro becomes more comfortable with the idea of intimacy with you, lewd thoughts start tainting the edges of his mind, turning the relatively innocent fantasy of cuddling with you into grinding against your ass, grasping your thigh and lifting it up just barely so that he can slot himself inside, breathing hard into your ear and growling, the sound throaty and heady and so very needy.

And really, is that so unnatural?

Sure, his libido isn’t the strongest, but imagining the woman he thinks he’s in love with to be naked and laid out underneath him isn’t out of the ordinary, right?

He’s sure all men think about the depraved thoughts that start worming their way into his imagination – they’re mostly questions, really, tying into his obsessiveness and desperation to learn as much about you as he possibly can.

He’s idly wondering how you sound when you moan – is it airy, high-pitched, low, gasping?

How do you look when you come? Does your face scrunch up, does your mouth drop open, do you close your eyes, does your back arch, do you curl your toes, do you reach out and grasp at anything you can find?

What’s your favorite position? He’d be willing to try all of them if you’d like, if you’re unsure – Gyutaro secretly thinks his own favorite will be having you on top, your pretty tits mere inches from his lips and giving him a perfect view of both your own face and your cunt sucking him in again and again and again, the sight making him dizzy with pleasure and forcing him to grasp your hips and fuck up into you, just to hear you gasp and moan and scream his name.

Have you ever squirted? He hopes no man has ever touched you at all, much less made you squirt, but Gyutaro swears he’ll get you to do it – he wants to feel your release all over his face, coating his fingers, tongue, chin, and cock, smeared across every inch of his skin and worn proudly.

Do you like to be praised or degraded, and do you like your lovers vocal? Gyutaro sure hopes so, because he knows he won’t be able to shut up when he’s buried balls deep inside you, your wet, warm, tight walls clenching down on him and forcing curse after groans out of him, practically milking him for both his cum and his moans. He wouldn’t mind praising or degrading you – what naturally slips out of his mouth when he’s fucking his fist is a healthy mix of both, imagining you in front of him and calling you my perfect slut or something of the sort.

Do you groom yourself, keeping everything perfectly smooth and shaved, or do you let nature takes its course? He hopes it’s the latter – he wants to relish in your scent, to bury his face between your legs and inhale deeply, getting a nose full of you, something made much easier when your hair and pheromones are tickling his cheeks.

(While he prefers you to not shave, Gyutaro himself will try to clean himself up routinely – starting way before he steals you away, just so that he can learn how to do it, to make sure he knows how to so that he doesn’t embarrass himself the first time you see him naked. The thought already embarrasses him enough – to have his body open to your scrutiny, to feel you looking at him, and he really doesn’t need the extra stress. Luckily for him, his quick regeneration means no accidental knicks with the razor knife last long – unfortunately, it also means that any cut hair regrows almost instantaneously, much to his displeasure. He’s hopeful you won’t be too disgusted by his pubes the first time you see him – though the dark hairs do a good job of framing the very, very long cock hanging between his legs.)

Quite honestly, he stalks you with such intensity and consistency that he’ll know the answer to many of these questions before long – he's memorized how you look when you come, your face ingrained into his brain and flashing behind his eyelids when he’s orgasming himself. But it’s different to be thinking about something like that – something so naughty. Gyutaro spends his time idly wondering these questions, a pale pink blooming on his cheeks because it’s just so dirty and you’re so very sweet, and thinking of you in such a lewd light almost makes him feel guilty.

Almost, because then he sees you, hiding from the shadows and getting the smallest whiff of your scent every few seconds, and then suddenly all guilt is gone because fuck, he needs you.

However, Gyutaro is still oddly shy about certain things with you. As such, when he first begins fantasizing about fucking you, there’s that small, annoyingly human part of him that worries if you’ll find him revolting once he’s fully nude in front of you, vulnerable to your facial expressions and any words of negative reaction.

He’s terrified, really, that you’ll find him unattractive or too repulsive to sleep with. He wants you to want him, to need him as he needs you, and if you were to call him ugly, a monster, anything of the sort? Well, it would take the demon a long, long time to recover from such a blow to his heart, old wounds tearing open fresh to endure another bout of pain.

And so, in a panicked and a frantic attempt to avoid any negative criticism from you once your intimate relationship begins, Gyutaro decides that he needs to learn more about actual sex, not just the crude, vulgar words he hears from the human men around him. If he wants to have any hope at making you actually enjoy sex with him (something he desperately, desperately wants), Gyutaro feels that he needs to see the real thing, to observe carefully and take notes.

Luckily, it’s not particularly hard to find a coupling around the Entertainment District, sneaking across roofs and peeking into windows until he hears moans and slapping sounds and sees writhing bodies and smells the musty, acrid odor of sex. And once he does, Gyutaro is quick to step down into the room, his presence casting a shadow against the moonlight and candle light of the room, the couple immediately stopping and staring at him in fear.

Before either person has a chance to scream, Gyutaro’s rushing forward, a hand covering each mouth and a sneer on his face as he tells the man that he’s so lucky, having a pretty woman to fuck every night… show me.

The man’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head underneath Gyutaro’s hand, causing the demon’s sneer to fall into a scowl. He needs to see this couple make love – he needs tips and advice, to see how it really goes. Plus, the woman’s body is somewhat similar to yours – perhaps you have similar spots that feel particularly good, and Gyutaro will take any and every scrap of information and ideas he can in order to make eventual sex with you good.

Anything to get you moaning his name and pulling at his hair and begging him for more.

Let me watch you fuck her, or I’ll kill you both. What’s your choice, huh? Gyutaro holds eye contact with the man, watching him debate, feeling the woman trembling and crying under his other hand.

His eye twitches – damn this man for loving the woman, because his slight hesitation in answering means he doesn’t want Gyutaro to see her nude, vulnerable, exposed, and it’s making Gyutaro imagine someone propositioning him this about you. Violent images of how he’d slaughter and kill whoever was threatening to see you moaning and gasping and naked flash through his mind, making him grit his teeth and press against their mouths harder.

At that, the man frantically nods yes, and Gyutaro snickers. Eh, you bastard, letting me watch you touch your woman? Pathetic, man, pathetic.

He takes his hands off their mouths, bracing himself for any screams, but when none come he smiles – a mean, twisted smile. I want to see everything, you know? Start over, act like I’m not here. I’m just watching, so give me a good show but be natural! I’ll kill you if you’re not natural.

Gyutaro scratches at his chest as he settles back against a wall on the side of the room, watching as the couple shakily sits up. The woman is still crying, but the man cups her cheek in his palm, swallowing hard, before slotting his lips against hers. The woman immediately begins kissing him back, the motions slow and hesitant.

Gyutaro growls, his voice forceful as he tells them to kiss harder, I’ll cut off your lips if you don’t.

That gets the two of them moving faster, the audible wet noises as her tongue slips into his mouth making Gyutaro lick his lips. It’s all too easy to imagine you in the woman’s place and him in the man’s, his hand sitting at your breast just as the man’s is, idly squeezing and playing with her nipple. They spend a few more moments kissing, before the man carefully pushes the woman back, laying her down with her legs spread over, her hands held over her head.

They’re still kissing, and Gyutaro’s hand snakes down to cup at his bulge, the idea of wet noises and hovering over you making his breath short. He’s watching them seemingly without blinking, reaching down past the top hem of his pants and firmly clutching at this balls, squeezing harshly and making him hiss through his teeth as the man shimmeys down, kissing and licking at the woman’s breasts.

She keens, biting her lip and trying to not look at Gyutaro, the man using his thumb and index finger to roll her nipple, pinching and tugging while flicking his tongue over its twin. Gyutaro pulls his hands out of his pants briefly to spit into his palm, hand slithering back into his pants and gripping the base of his cock in a death grip.

He’s painfully hard at this point – the man’s head is suddenly between the woman’s thighs, and Gyutaro’s moving forward before he can even think about, still gripping himself under his pants as he nears the bed, wanting an up-close view of the man’s actions. They both tense at this, but Gyutaro scoffs.

Keep going, yeah? Just needed a better view.

The man swallows but obeys, tongue flicking out to lick a long stripe from her folds up and over her clit, making her sigh. Soon his tongue is flicking out and licking at the small bud, fingers pulling up to expose the area and make access easier. Gyutaro mentally notes that away – he knows women like when men play with their clit, and perhaps you’d be impressed by his knowledge of this, or the way he’ll pull your lips up, just so he can fully see that pretty, throbbing pearl on you.

The man’s free hand moves up to run a few fingers through her folds, his fingers suddenly soaking wet and glistening in the moonlight. Gyutaro licks his lips – god, he wants to taste you so bad, his tastebuds tingling and his mouth literally salivating at the thought of tasting your lips, what’s between your legs, even your tears. Gyutaro’s hand slowly moves up, hand slicked with spit lessening the friction and making him lowly groan. The man slips a finger inside her, the woman’s small moan making the man’s brows twitch together.

Gyutaro’s careful to watch the man’s pacing – his tongue is licking steady, consistent circles over her clit, while his fingers are thrusting slowly, carefully, adding a second finger after a few moments. Would you like the same pacing? Gyutaro’s not sure, but the hand not diligently pumping at his cock beneath his pants mimics the same finger motion as the man, his tongue slipping out to mimic licking small circles. He matches the man’s pace, wide yellow eyes slowly starting to go half-lidded from the pleasure of his fingers wrapped around his girth.

Tell me what feels best, woman.

He’ll snarl, keeping an eye on the way the man tenses up but doesn’t stop his actions. The woman’s flushed, her eyes darting to him before quickly looking away.

When – ah, when he curls his fingers up, fuck, and little circles on – oh! She cuts herself off with a moan, and Gyutaro (irritated that she didn’t finish but too focused on her instructions) repeats the words over and over in his head, modifying the hand motion he’s practicing to closely resemble her descriptions.

His fist moves a bit faster, creating a deft thump motion each time his fingers bump into his navel. The sound of the man fingering the woman is so, so very lewd, too – it’s wet, a squelching noise that makes Gyutaro drool, the idea that you’d be that wet making his throat dry, his hips bucking forward against his fist involuntarily.

Fuck her, now, ngh…

The man gulps, wiping the woman’s slick off of his lips and chin, and Gyutaro feels a particularly large glob of precum dribble from his tip, the extra lubrication making his pleasure just that much sharper.

Start over her.

He instructs as the man moves to hover over her, nodding at the demon’s words and slotting himself between her legs. Gyutaro watches intently as the man grips the base of his cock, aligning his tip with your hole, pushing forward and letting his eyes roll to the back of his head. Gyutaro sucks in a sharp breath – would you feel that good inside? He's sure you would; you’re so pretty and sexy, of course you have the best cunt. He bets it’s incredibly warm, wet enough to leave his cock, navel, and upper thighs coated in no time, and god you’d be so fucking tight, gripping him hard enough to make pulling out of you nearly impossible-

The woman lets out a wanton moan as the man starts moving, the pace immediately fast and bruising. The sound of his balls clapping against her ass fills the room, and Gyutaro pants, his fist moving faster and faster, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. He transitions from moving his arm to thrusting his stationary fist, matching the man’s pacing and imagining it’s you getting fucked, that your cries are the ones ringing in his ears and it’s your pretty tits that are bouncing and jiggling with the force of the thrusts.

From behind – shit, from behind! He instructs, his voice strained with his impending orgasm.

The man listens, pulling out and carefully slipping her over, slipping back inside and listening to the way the woman cries out. Gyutaro’s eyes focus on her breasts as they sway and jiggle – you have a very similar size, and just the thought of him fucking you hard enough to get your tits moving makes his eyes flutter closed for a moment, eyebrows drawing tightly together at the thought.

This sight is even more erotic than the last position – it’s all too easy to imagine it’s him pulling at your hips, smacking his own against your ass again and again, making you feel him so deep, deep enough to get you chanting his name like a fucking prayer. Gyutaro moves forward and uses his free hand to grab the man’s, forcing his fingers into her hair and pushing her face down against the mattress, the new position making the man groan and the woman shudder.

Gyutaro curses, letting go and putting all his effort into fucking his fist to the same tempo, trying to match the man’s perfectly. He wants to fuck you like this, he decides – leaning over you like some sort of animal, mounting you, fucking you in the most raw, animalistic way.

You’d look so damn pretty, and he’s sure your pussy would make wet noises like hers is, your slick dripping down your thighs and your pleas to give you more more more please Gyutaro, need your cum!

Gyutaro gasps hard as cum sprays all along the inside of his pants, his fist slowing to a stop as he rides out his high, eyes half lidded and all sorts of groans and sharp exhales filling the room.

The couple stares, bewildered, unsure of what to do – he’s still fucking her but more gently, and Gyutaro smirks at them, still dazed from the pleasure and the idea of doing this to you. Licking his lips, he climbs onto the windowsill, glancing over his shoulder at them.

I’m coming back tomorrow night. He stares at the woman, a wide smile splitting across his features. You’re gonna show me how to suck cock right, yeah? Gotta make sure I can guide her when she-

He stops, swallowing, his cheeks still blushed from his orgasm and from the vulgar idea of you taking him down his throat.

Don’t you tell anyone about this, eh? I’ll find you, and I’ll kill you.

And with that, he’s gone, disappeared from the windowsill and leaving the man and woman to embrace each other, shaking in fear. Meanwhile, Gyutaro’s running from roof to roof, adrenaline filling his veins because he has to see you now – he’s too pent up, and he needs to see you in person. As expected, you’re asleep by the time he reaches your home, sitting on your window edge, licking his lips and breathing hard.

You’re so fucking pretty – he crawls closer, acutely aware to be quiet and not wake you. You’d fallen asleep on your futon, the blanket still neatly folded in the corner, and Gyutaro swallows before grabbing the cloth, pulling it over you and up to your chin, his hands trembling.

He sighs, his fingers itching to reach out and touch you, to bend you into the positions he’d seen the couples trying, but he refrains. He doesn’t want to wake you, doesn’t want you to be aware of his presence quite yet. He has to be patient, good – he’ll allow himself one pleasure, however, as he dips a finger inside his pants, scooping up some of his still warm cum and gently, gingerly smearing it across your lips, practically moaning at the sight of white against your skin.

You’re just so, so perfect – it almost makes him sick, but as he returns to the couple the next night, demanding the woman get on her knees, Gyutaro can’t help but shiver.

It may take him a while to actually touch you, but god, he’ll be ready.

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your stomach

In general, one of the things that Gyutaro finds he adores about you as his obsession festers is how opposite the two of you are. Regardless of your weight, you are physically different from him – and Gyutaro notices this early on.

That is, his body is essentially just bone – skin stretched to cover his skeleton, while you have lovely warm, squishy skin covering your curves and pretty body. You’re so fucking soft – nothing on you can possibly be as hard as he is, and from the moment he first holds your waist with a slightly shaking hand he can’t help but notice this difference every time he looks at you.

He grows to love feeling the areas on you that hold the most squishiness, and his favorite place of all is your stomach. There’s something so relaxing about how warm the area is, your skin practically his personal hand warmer as he slides his hands into your kimono, his palms pressed snugly against your tummy.

They don’t move much; stationary, just simply feeling, the intention not inherently sexual. However, as you bring back small traces of his long-buried humanity, you also bring back traces of his libido, something that’s been noticeably gone throughout the duration of his time as a demon.

And so, as urges to kiss and touch you slowly begin seeping into his mind, Gyutaro slowly becomes fixated on the fact that you’re so fucking soft, the perfect thing for him to squeeze and lick and fuck until you’re crying and begging for more more more –

His sex drive isn’t monumental, but Gyutaro would be blatantly lying if he said he hasn’t fantasized about how soft you’d feel underneath him before, your pretty body on display for his greedy eyes.

He’s seen many humans naked, but the first time he sees you without any clothing on, his hands are immediately reaching out – and, surprisingly, heading directly for your stomach. His breaths come out harsher as he stares down at your exposed belly, the skin even softer somehow than when it touches it under your clothes.

As he starts regularly fucking you, get ready for his hands to always be gravitating towards your stomach, his fingers pressing into the soft fat while you writhe and squirm in his lap as he forces you up and down his cock, his eyes rolling back into his head while he practically drools.

He loses his composure during sex, and it’ll be more than apparent in the way he grasps onto your tummy like it’s his life line, as if you’re the only thing tethering him to Earth while his orgasm crashes over him.

And god, when he’s got you laying in front of him, your pretty legs parted to expose the soft, warm pussy he claims as his, Gyutaro uses your stomach as almost a pillow – he’s watching his fingers appearing and disappearing out of your cunt, your juices smeared across his pale skin as he rests his forehead on the softness of your lower belly.

His eyes are wide and unblinking, his lips parted in awe as he watches the way you just take them, your velvety walls clenching down repeatedly, hard enough to make his mouth water. He’s always leaving small kisses against your stomach after sex, an oddly sweet gesture that makes every bruise he leaves on your body from the rough fucking feeling slightly better.

It’s strange, his fascination, and at first you have the terrible, horrible fear that his obsession stems from wanting to grow his family with a child. It’s a terrifying thought, one you try to put out of your head, but eventually (after he forces you to tell him, his eyes turning dark and threatening as he demands you to tell me, don’t keep any secrets from me, ever) the fear is lost, as Gyutaro regretfully informs you that demons are infertile.

You’re relieved, but the question only seems to further ignite his obsession with your stomach – you’ll catch him speaking to it when you’re asleep, odd little confessions of if only I could… when you wake up.

Essentially, Gyutaro is obsessed with your tummy because it’s soft and squishy and fuck you’re so very pretty.

His fingers

Generally speaking, Gyutaro isn’t particularly fond of any specific body part of his own.

He’s proud of his ability to fight and destroy, but especially in the context of physical attractiveness, Gyutaro firmly believes what he’s always been told. He knows he’s unappealing; how could anyone ever like a monster with such a grotesque body and face?

It’s a cycle of self-deprecation that he’s found comfort in for most of his life, but once you appear, suddenly he’s wildly disappointed that he isn’t more handsome. He wishes he had a fuller figure, muscle spanning his chest and back, just like all those slayers he sees.

He wishes he had softer hair, a more symmetrical smile, less facial blemishes, everything.

He hates that he’s limited to human beauty ideals, but he can’t help it – how can he, when you’re around him looking so cute and adorable? You’re not perfect either (though he loves your imperfections perhaps more than anything else), but he wants to be perfect for you.

And so, while Gyutaro silently wallows in his self-misery, he slowly discovers that despite his lack of sexual experience and general understanding of human female anatomy, you seem to really, really like his fingers.

His nails were, initially, something you’d quickly stammered out a w-wait! to when he’d tried to shove a finger inside, and while he hadn’t appreciated your interruption, when you mentioned he could stab you and make you bleed with how sharp they were, he reluctantly digressed.

It’s not hard to bite off the excess sharpness of the nail, grinding them down to a roundness against the flesh of his finger, perfectly safe.

The first time he’d fingered you, Gyutaro was shocked at how impossibly warm, wet and tight you were inside. It was like touching velvet – so soft, your walls sucking him in and seeming to almost invite him inside, as if you wanted him there, like you didn’t want him to leave.

He’s staring transfixed at the way you take them, your pussy squelching as he slowly thrusts them in and out, your little squeals making his cheeks flush a very light pink. He loves the way you gasp when he curls them just so, brushing against the spongey spot he’s memorized as your favorite.

He loves to abuse the area; watching as your eyes squeeze closed, your fingers grasping onto his shoulders, your thighs tensing and clenching, your little cries of his name and yes – yes please ‘Taro, fuck please!

He loves how quickly he can get you falling apart with his fingers, how you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning, whimpering mess once he gets you below him. It boosts his confidence, and occasionally between thrusts inside, he’ll pull his fingers out and suck on them, his own little groan slipping out as he savors your taste, all musky and heavy.

And of course, once he discovers your clit, it’s over for you – he’s never leaving the small button alone, the bundle of nerves positively sore by the time he’s done with you. He’s rubbing small circles against it, drawing figure eights, writing the kanji for his name with the tip of his finger, anything he can to get your back arching up, your toes curling and your lips parting into that pretty ‘o’ he loves so much.

He’s constantly bewildered by just how much pleasure he can deliver you with only his hands, and so as he squeezes and gropes at your ass, breasts, stomach, anything and everything, just know that he’s feeling nearly as good as you are.

After all, those bandages as pants may be loose, but you can still see a very clear outline of just how excited he is – and just how much he’s enjoyed the way you’ve made a mess of his fingers, if the wet stain around said outline is any indicator. He just really, really likes using his fingers on you, so just let him, yeah?

DRIVE:

Gyutaro’s never been that horny. Having been turned into a demon while young, he’s never really experienced the human emotion of lust, his sexual urges having faded out from his teenage years to nearly nothing. He’s too consumed by other emotions – anger, jealousy, pity – to really focus on something so arbitrary, something so human.

And so, as a result of this repressed sexual drive Gyutaro doesn’t immediately begin lusting after you once his obsession with you begins to form. He isn’t desperate to fuck you the moment he realizes he feels some twisted form of love, nor does he want to touch you in any way that’s inherently sexual.

Instead, his urges to be with you and feel your skin are much, much more innocent in nature – of course, he’s still a man-eating monster, but he wants to touch your cheek just because it looks soft.

He wants to run his hands along your sides because you’re so small compared to his looming figure, and he wants to make sure that you’re real.

He wants to know how it feels to have you in his arms, because he’s seen human couples doing that and it’s a show of intimacy and connection between two people, and that’s what he wants to have with you.

As time passes, his urges towards you slowly begin moving towards the area of lusting, however. Soon he’s wanting to kiss you; his lips are always chapped, of course, and he’s sure his breath smells atrocious, but your lips look so soft and warm, like they’d be perfect to press against his own.

He imagines pressing you against his body as you kiss him, your hands resting against his chest as you sigh into his mouth, the human form of affection seeming so intimate and lovely and necessary.

It’s some long lost repressed human part of him driving these desires, but Gyutaro can’t find it in himself to care – especially not after the first time he sees you nude. He’s seen dozens of humans naked before; he lives in the Entertainment District after all, and when he’s devouring someone, he’s not particularly respectful with keeping them covered up.

However, there’s something different about you – maybe it’s because he feels so attached to you, or maybe it’s because he suddenly can’t stop thinking about how it would feel to embrace your naked body with his own, free of any fabric separating the both of you while he indulges in your warmth, softness, the plush skin of your body.

He’s not sure, but regardless, after that moment suddenly all those sexual feelings leftover from his time as a human come rushing back to him – he’s hard without even realizing it, his eyes bulging out of their sockets as he simply stares, his expression going dumb.

You’re uncomfortable with it, he can tell by the way you avoid his gaze, but he can’t find it in himself to care – you’re so beautiful, perfect for him in every possible way. And so, after that night, Gyutaro finds himself inching closer and closer towards the final level of intimacy, pushing the boundaries just a bit more each night until he’s eventually got you perched in his lap, his hands placed on your hips.

You’re both naked, your breasts placed tantalizingly close, close enough to be able to reach out and wrap his lips around your nipple, to suck and watch you keen, to maybe even sigh out his name…

He’s rendered mute by your pussy the first time he fucks you, truly too pussydrunk to really even think, as embarrassing as it is. The big, strong Gyutaro falls so easily to your body – one clench and he’s shuddering, every nerve in his body on fire as he tries not to come quite yet – only lasting thirty seconds is wildly embarrassing, and while you’d never poke fun at him for fear of dying, Gyutaro grits his teeth and tries to hold on to his dignity.

And so, sex with you becomes a regular craving for the demon. His urges aren’t too unbearable, and he only ever acts on it a few nights a week, but be prepared because Gyutaro will fuck you, and you will like it – he'll make sure you come, and doesn’t that mean you’re enjoying yourself?

But until he gather up enough courage to actually fuck you, Gyutaro takes baby steps. He can’t do too much all at once – he gets too overwhelmed, too shy and embarrassed because you’re looking at him, your pretty eyes and face and voice giving him attention. It makes his lips go numb, anxiously scratching at his arms and struggling to meet your gaze because god he wants to touch you and hear you moan his name, but how does one go about that, exactly?

Sure, he knows the basics of sex and has watched couples initiate it, but it’s different with you. It’s different because Gyutaro isn’t stupid – he knows you’re afraid of him, that he’s too grotesque and ugly for you to ever really want to be intimate with, and these thoughts make it hard for him to just take what he wants from you.

And so, he starts small – he'll touch you a little more, fingertips pressing hard into your sides when he ghosts his hands there, trying to be gentle but struggling to regulate his strength because you’re so close to him.

He’ll let his fingers brush over your hair, never enough for you to feel but just enough for the texture to become familiar, always bringing his fingers up to his nose and smelling them afterwards, something between a growl and a moan slipping from his lips at the scent.

He’ll reach out and lightly, oh so lightly press his thumb against your cheek, marveling at how soft your skin is and how warm it is, mumbling something under his breath about how you’re too pretty, how it makes him sick that you’re too damn pretty.

His breathing will be a little unsteady when his does this, those yellow eyes of his glancing between your own and your lips, contemplating in a way that he thinks is much more subtle than it actually is.

He wants all sorts of human intimacy with you, and the next thing that he wants to tackle is kissing you. The idea is strange to him - why do humans press their mouths together? It must feel good, but why? He’s curious, but touching you has such an effect on him, so surely tasting you would suck the air right out of his lungs, leaving his knees feeling weak and making pink bloom across his cheeks.

He doesn’t ask you for permission, instead one day coming to sit beside you against the wall of the lair, that familiar concentrated look in his eye. He’ll ask you some question whose answer he doesn’t care about – just to see your lips moving, watching with sharp eyes how your tongue contorts and moves inside your mouth, sometimes flicking out to lick at your lips, the sight almost making him whimper.

Soon, he can’t just watch – he’s rushing forward without any warning, pressing against you with a level of force that makes you yelp. His lips are dry and cracked (despite him having licked them excessively in preparation for this moment, wishing to make them as soft and pleasant as possible), and they’re not moving – he’s staying perfectly still, eyes wide open and staring at you.

It scares you, because while you know what he’s doing, the experience is anything but pleasant. He stays like that for a few moments, before slowly, very slowly moving, his lips clumsy and unsure as they work at you. It feels like he’s trying to eat you – his tongue and teeth stay firmly inside his mouth, but his lips keep trying to fit more and more of you into his mouth at once, saliva smearing across bits of your cheek and chin.

You’re still completely frozen, unsure of what to do, and Gyutaro pulls back, scowling. It had felt good – in a strange way, a way that made something in his stomach feel tight and warm, but he’s sure it would feel much better if you were participating too, if you’d actually kiss him back. Don’t just sit there, he’ll warble to you, not willing to actually ask you to kiss him back, his pride barring him from practically begging for what he wants.

(Though as your sexual relationship progresses, this pride slowly withers away and dies – to the point where he’ll get on his knees and beg for you to open your pretty mouth and suck him off, because even though he could force you easily, it always feels better when you consent, when you at pretend to actually want him.)

This time, as he leans in, your lips move too, trying to match his awkward kisses. Gyutaro groans at that, leaning further against you, the weight causing you to fall backwards, lying flat on your back. You’d pulled away from the kiss during the fall, and as Gyutaro stares down at you hungrily, he swallows, sucking through his teeth harshly and trying to get every drop of your saliva down his throat. You must really, really want him, huh?

The sight simultaneously flusters and flatters him, and before you can say a word he’s scrambling over you, pressing his lips against yours harshly, with vigor, his tongue slipping out and practically forcing its way down your throat. You just taste so fucking good – it's addictive, and the knowledge that you’d laid down for him, wanting him to hover over you and mimic sex making his head swim. He’s breathing hard through his nose, almost wheezing, and you quickly shut your eyes, not wanting to look at his still wide-open ones.

He kisses you for a long, long time – easily thirty minutes, not tiring of the feeling, his tongue still actively rubbing against yours, tracing every tooth and managing to dip into every crevice in your mouth, each new area making him groan and get just a hair more desperate.

When he eventually pulls away, he licks your lips and smiles shakily, a hand coming down to pet at your hair. Next time, will you take you shirt off? It probably grosses you out, huh, that request?

And when you nod with wide eyes, too scared to say no, Gyutaro will exhale slowly, nodding and muttering a series of slurred good’s and your name under his breath, before stalking off out of the lair. Once out of your sight he’s stopping, a hand coming up to scratch at the area right over his heart, his face morphing into something between despair and prevenance.

You’re just so damn pretty – he can’t handle the sight of you, and the image of you laid out before him, looking up at him with those eyes makes every muscle in his body tense, that familiar warm feeling in his groin growing tighter and tighter, and as a hand snakes down to palm at the now very noticeable and wet bulge in his pants, Gyutaro decides that he needs to speed this process up.

He doesn’t know how much longer he can take holding himself back – not if touching you and tasting you and making you gasp feel this good.

(Later that night, as he hovers over your sleeping form and tugs near painfully on his cock, Gyutaro decides that the next step can happen right then and there – you’d look so good with his cum smeared all across your face, wouldn’t you?)

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Praise

While Gyutaro has a difficult time believing your compliments initially, with time he grows much more willing (and desperate) to indulge in your sweet words.

Your kind praises of his caring actions – no matter how forced the words are – have him melting inside, his heart pounding in his chest while he struggles to hold your gaze. He reverts to a bit of a teenage boy in moments where you compliment him – and during sex?

Well, Gyutaro nearly passes out the first time you compliment his body. It takes so much courage for him to show you himself nude, if only because he’s so scared of the way you’ll react. What if you think he’s ugly, or weird, or repulsive? What if you wince at the sight of him, or cower when he tries to touch you or make you touch him?

He’s so scared, so when you run your hands along his arms and tell him he’s handsome, he’s staring at you with wide eyes. He’s simultaneously hateful and in love with the vulnerability you make him feel, so please, please compliment him during sex.

He needs the validation that you like him, that he’s making you feel good, and while he’ll never actually say it aloud, your words turn him on more than you know. Just hearing his name roll off your tongue has his eyes rolling backwards, his fingers twitching with the urge to touch you, to feel your soft skin. He loves when you tell him sweet things about his body; tell him he’s attractive, that you love how strong he is, that you love how muscular his arms are.

Tell him his eyes are pretty, that you love tunneling your fingers through his hair while he fucks you with his tongue, that you love the way his fingers stretch you out and get you seeing stars.

Compliment the things that he does in bed; tell him that you love how he growls and bites at your neck with those sharp teeth of his, that you love when he manhandles you and grunts into your ear as he rolls his hips into yours.

And of course, tell him how he makes you feel – he’ll groan your name and his hips will stutter if you say his cock feels so – so good Gyutaro, mm please! Need more, need more of you –

Tell him that he feels so good inside of you, that he’s going to make you come because it’s all too much, and you’ll see him physically freeze up, his eyes wide and a bit of drool slipping from the corner of his mouth because god, are you talking about him?

Moan his name and make a show of writhing around underneath him, arching your back and gasping out that he’s so big! T’s too much Gyu, gonna make me come!

Tell him anything and everything that comes to your mind, the more depraved the better. He likes to hear you become reduced to incoherent whimpers because of him, and with each praise that slips past your lips, Gyutaro feels his confidence slowly rise until he’s fucking into you with reckless abandon.

He’ll be bearing his teeth and whispering the filthiest things into your ear, the confidence boosting his system like nothing else. He’s calling you his, possessive petnames right and left as he practically abuses your cunt with his cock, pounding into you with such fervor that it’s almost like he’s trying to mold your pussy into the shape of his cock.

He’s demanding you tell him how he feels; growls of tell me what you want me to do to you filling the space between you, the panting breaths and moans rushing into the empty air. He’s telling you to take it, f-fuck, so damn tight, do I make you this tight, huh?

He wants you to mindlessly agree, to clutch onto his body and squeeze around him, milking him for absolutely everything he can give to you until you’re spasming around his cock, coming all over him and whimpering underneath him, your pretty eyes staring up at him with tears beading in your lashes from the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving to you.

And if you were to worship any part of his body?

He’s not sure what you’re doing at first – why are you sinking to your knees and moving so slowly in front of him? You’re taking your time with his cock, letting your eyes gaze over every single inch of him, the attention making his neck flush and embarrassing him. And yet, he doesn’t stop you – because when you whisper out that he’s so pretty, I love your cock Gyutaro, he nearly malfunctions, his nails digging into his palms as his hips involuntarily jerk, his cock bobbing slightly with the motion.

He wants you to kiss every inch of him, to suckle on his tip and let your tongue dip into his hypersensitive slit, the sensation making him gasp sharply and his eyes close tightly.

He wants you to gently fondle his balls, to whisper against his skin in between licks against his shaft that you wanna taste you, can I please taste you Gyu? Wanna make you come, you look so pretty when you do…

He’ll let you do anything you damn well please when you’ve got him like this – his eyes are watching your every move, his breath hitched, his heart fluttering in his chest as his orgasm comes much too soon, the emotional weight of your words and adoring actions making him desperate to give you the cum you claim you need.

He just really, really likes when you give him positive attention in the bedroom, so please narrate everything you’re feeling. He wants to know every possible detail, and he’ll strive to keep touching and pleasing you until you’re screaming his name and a jumbled, slurred series of yes and please and I love you.

Breast Fixation

Gyutaro, to put it lightly, develops a sort of fascination with your chest. He has no sexual experience with women, and consequently has neither felt nor seen a living, naked woman’s breasts before.

Of course, he’s been curious; victims he’s in the middle of devouring who’s clothing has slipped down in the process of his meal, where their tits are hanging out of the fabric, looking soft and supple and perfect to touch. He’ll reach out and halfheartedly squeeze, but the dead flesh isn’t the same as a living, breathing woman’s – besides, his hunger is too strong for him to really process how soft, pliable, and squishy it is.

And so, once he has you, someone to fantasize about and imagine naked (frequently), Gyutaro is suddenly very interested in seeing what you look like shirtless. He’s always paid close attention to the way your chest looks in your kimonos; the fabric tightening through there, as if your breasts were practically begging to be freed, exposed to the world and awaiting eyes like his.

He’s always noticed the way your top exposes the line of your cleavage when you bend down to pick something up, your tits pressed together by your arms while he gets a front row seat that leaves his pants feeling tight and his throat dry.

Before he steals you away, frequent nights are spent with the image of you straddling his lap playing through his mind. He’ll imagine the way you’d shimmy out of your top, exposing your breasts to his greedy eyes, the soft flesh sitting only a few tantalizing inches away from his face.

He’d focus in on your nipples, imagining the way they’d slowly pebble from the cold air, growing tight and taut while he’s left to drool, his fingers begging to reach out and pinch, twist, and pull. He’ll imagine the way you’d look down at him with a soft smile, cupping his cheeks and asking in that soft, breathy whisper of yours if he’d touch them please Gyutaro, I want you to play with me…

He wouldn’t need to be told twice, his hands immediately reaching up to cautiously grope and squeeze.

He’s nervous at first, his touches hesitant, but as he wraps a hand around your left breast and squeezes lightly, the sigh you make in response has him gulping and squeezing harder, his other hand following suit until he’s massaging and groping at your tits like they’re his personal stress balls.

He’s painfully hard below you, his cock desperate for stimulation, but as you push his head closer to your breasts he nearly loses his mind; he’s quick to envelope a nipple into his mouth, closing his eyes while he sucks and licks at the bud as you hum and praise him, little whispers of mmm, just like that baby going straight to his cock.

He twitches with every little keen you make, and this fantasy carries over into his sex life with you. Very, very early on you’ll notice that he’s always staring at your tits whenever you’re intimate with him.

When he’s bathing you, he’s staring and gulping, not doing well to hide the way he’s very clearly ogling.

When you’re changing, he’s quickly glancing away after you catch him stealing looks at you, his cheeks pink as he holds his hands over the tent slowly forming in his pants.

And once you start fucking?

Well, you’ve noticed his fascination, and you’ll capitalize on it. Grab his cock and trace your nipples with the tip, and just watch the way he shivers, his eyes unable to look away while he whispers a gravelly fuck under his voice.

Play with your tits as you wait for him to undress, pouting up at him and begging him to hurry up, to come fuck you please, you’re too horny to wait.

Push your breasts together and ask him to fuck them, telling him it’ll feel so good, and how you want him to leave his cum all over the soft skin.

Purposefully bounce more than you actually need when he fucks you while you’re on your back, so that the fat jiggles even more and watch the way his eyes widen, his pupils dilating as he fucks into you with new fervor.

Grope and squeeze at them as he hovers over you in missionary, and you’ll feel the way his thrusts grow faster, harder, more desperate, his eyes trained on the way you work at the soft, supple flesh.

The root of his love for your breasts really comes from just how soft they are; he’s not used to anything as welcoming or comforting as your chest, and when you let him rest his head there, fall asleep behind you with a hand cupping one, letting him idly suckle at a nipple as you card your fingers through his hair, how can Gyutaro not grow to love them?

And love them he will – the copious amounts of love marks, bruises and hickeys littering the sensitive skin will make his obsession more than obvious, as will the way he essentially creams his pants the first time his fingers brush against them.

The large stain against the fabric and the slack-jawed, red-faced expression he gives you will have you more than aware that just a simple flash of your tits will leave Gyutaro puddy in your hands, willing to do anything for you.

Hand Holding

It’s not really a kink, but as your sexual relationship with Gyutaro progresses, you’ll find that more often than not he manages to snake his hand into yours. When he’s fucking you in missionary, hips smacking against you fast and hard, he’s holding your hands above your head, gritting his teeth and whining in your ear because you’re too – too fucking tight, shit, ‘m gonna come, you want that? You want my cum in you?

He’ll start off with his hand wrapped around your wrist, but as the sex continues and he gets closer to his orgasm, he’ll switch to interlacing his fingers with yours, pressing your hand hard against the mattress, the tendons in his hands and forearms flexing as his abs and balls clench up, warm cum flooding your cunt and leaving him gasping your name.

When he’s got you bent over, pretty ass on display as he stuffs you full with his cock, he’ll lean over you, a large hand covering one of yours, dwarfing yours and overwhelming you even more, his body literally covering every inch of yours.

Even when perched on top of him, grinding against him and biting your lip because it feel so very good, he’ll alternate between cupping the globes of your ass and catching your hand, clutching it in his hand as he tries to keep his grounding and not come too quickly.

Frankly, it’s almost unconscious – he doesn’t actively realize it’s happening until you point it out to him, in which case he’ll grow defensive, telling you that you’re wrong and mistaken, embarrassed to admit that he naturally does something so human, so weak and gentle.

But really, it’s just another way to extend the intimacy with you – you’re so pretty and sweet and so very lovely, and though he’s kidnapped you and forced you into some twisted form of a relationship with him, there’s something about the moments where he’s inside of you that leaves him feeling fuzzy, warm, wanted. And perhaps it’s the centuries of neglect and self-hatred that lead him to desperately chase that feeling of security and acceptance, or perhaps it’s just natural instinct left over from his human days.

Regardless, Gyutaro will almost exclusively only ever orgasm if your hand is somehow touching his – he needs that intimacy to let himself finish, emptying himself inside of you while clutching onto you, keeping you there and steady and still, stopping you from squirming away or escaping when he’s trying to give you his cum, gifting you with the most intimate, personal thing he could. And when he’s coming, he’s squeezing at your hand, hard.

The pleasure is just so overwhelming, and he needs something to grasp onto, something to keep him grounded and keep him from rutting into you and humping you into overstimulation, his cries and warbled moans sounding pitiful. He doesn’t mean to crush your hand, but sometimes he’ll hold so tightly that you wind up with big finger-shaped bruises across your palms and the back of your hands, the sight making Gyutaro ashamed because he hadn’t meant to hurt you, but also pleased because now he’s marked you.

There’ll be a constant reminder of him every time you look down at your hands, every time you do basic tasks or touch things. It's a thought that makes him weirdly smug, and so while Gyutaro will often try to deny your accusations of him always holding your hand during sex, but he knows it’s true.

(But really, you should be grateful it’s just your hand – at least it’s not your throat, where he’s much likelier to lose control.)

But even outside of when he orgasms, Gyutaro really, really likes to hold your hands. His favorite time to consciously do it is when he’s got you perched in his lap, his chin resting on your shoulder while you lean back against his chest.

He’ll want you fully nude so that he’s free to explore and roam your body with his hands, occasionally pinching at your stomach or groping at your breast. He wants you sat on his cock, the hard length nestled inside of you while you both simply bask in each other’s presence, him turning to bury his nose against your neck and deeply inhaling, his cock twitching inside of you.

Gyutaro grows a penchant for cockwarming with you as time goes by, because while he doesn’t always want to fuck you (though it’s not too terribly difficult to persuade him – just say please and he’s putty in your hands, so frantic to get his cock out that he’s ripping at the bandages of his pants) there’s something about the intimacy of being inside you but just cuddling you or holding you that satisfies his clinginess.

Plus, this way he can indulge in the feeling of your cunt in a non-sexual way – you’re just so warm and inviting, taking his breath away every time without fail, the sensation so lovely and foreign to him that he wants to spend every possible moment inside of you, even if he’s not fucking you stupid. And the whole time he's lodged inside you like this, his fingers are wrapped around yours, marveling at the size different and tracing the lines and patterns on your hand.

They’re just so much softer and better than his – so innocent and not capable of so much death and destruction as his. You’re just so cute, in a way that makes him crazy, and he’d be stupid to not take advantage of having someone like you to touch and taste and share his best.

And Gyutaro is many things, but stupid is not one of them.

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Cock Worship

Although Gyutaro isn’t an inherently selfish lover, he can’t deny that having you fawn over him gets him hot under the collar, his pants growing uncomfortably tight and his mouth feeling dry. There’s just something about the idea of you worshipping him that gets him equal parts mortified and horribly aroused.

To have all of your attention on him in a non-sexual context steals his breath away, making him struggle to seem interesting and cool and attractive, even if he knows he isn’t. And so, in a sexual context this is only amplified – he wants you to like him, to find his body and him generally attractive, and to have you blatantly doing that during sex would make his head spin, embarrassment eating him alive even as he enjoys every second of it.

And to have you worship any part of his body is wonderful, but to have you worship between his legs?

Well, his cock’s not especially pretty, and he knows it – it’s long, long enough that it’s right on the border between hurting and pleasurable when he sinks inside all the way to the hilt. It’s sensitive, always leaking precum so it’s sticky and wet and glistening, with a set of heavy, swollen balls sprinkled with black hairs hung right below.

It’s intimidating and will leave you a bit nervous of how he’ll possibly fit inside of you, but Gyutaro’s eyes roll to the back of his head when he sees and feels your fingers wrap around him, pumping and flicking your wrist at the tip, the sensation of you jerking him off making his hips buck up into the air.

Having you give him long, slow, lazy pumps of your fist while you list off all the reasons you love his cock in between sloppy, wet kisses would have Gyutaro coming in mere minutes, the attention and praise going directly between his legs.

When you’re on your knees in front of him, make him shudder and flush by gripping him, making a show of licking from the base to the tip, suckling on the swollen, red tip and flicking your tongue against his slit, dipping in slightly and feeling the way he throbs in your mouth.

Move down to fondle and suck at his balls – if you’re able to fit a whole one in your mouth, you’ll hear a strangled s-stop, stop stop stop ‘m gonna come too fast, the pleasure literally too much for him to handle.

Give him the erotic sight of you tracing the outline of your lips with his tip, smearing precum all over them so that they’re glistening with a clear, off-white sheen. Rub the outside of your cheek against his length while you stare up at him, licking your lips and smiling, and you’ll literally see his face turning red, his sharp teeth biting at his lip and drawing blood because fuck, you’re so sexy and provocative and having you say that you love his cock is making his heart flutter.

And when he’s inside you, thrusting in and out and making you clench and tighten up, purposefully flex the muscles, making everything tighter and more intense, telling him that he deserves the tightest you can offer, and feel the way he immediately busts inside of you, the groan that forces its way past his lips sounding pained and desperate and pathetic.

Which brings us to another major facet of his enjoyment of cock worship – please worship his cum. It’s a bit runny and thin, shooting out of him in long spurts, always wickedly warm and getting absolutely everywhere. Let him come inside you – whine out a please give it to me Gyutaro, need you to come for me, please please want your cum!

He’s stuffing you full every time he fucks you, those yellow eyes of his eagerly watching it ooze out of you after he’s pulled out. When you’re sucking and licking at him, let him push your head as far down as you can go, sending rope after rope down your throat, his nails digging into your scalp as he gives a few sad last spurts, only a drop or so managing to hit your tongue.

Let him pull out of your mouth and give himself a few good tugs, cum splattering all over your face while he groans your name and a slurred take it. Lick it off your lips and look up at him with cum all over your cheeks and chin, and you’ll see the way he snarls and throws you onto the makeshift bed he shares with you, immediately ripping your thighs apart and diving into you like a man starved, the wet noises of his tongue diving between your folds absolutely depraved.

You’re just so, so very wonderful when you’re worshipping him, so please do – one the bright side, it’s the absolute fastest way to get him to come, just as long as you sound like you really mean it.

Spitting

This kink is one that takes both you and Gyutaro by surprise. It happens very suddenly, and it takes a moment for both of you to process exactly what’s happened, Gyutaro’s spit sitting against your tongue and tasting like him.

It’s a manifestation of his possessiveness over you – you’re his. His little human, his lovely woman, his pretty cunt to touch and fuck and bury himself inside of for hours on end. And so, when he’s got you folded into a mating press, strong arms keeping your thighs pinned to your chest with absolutely no wiggle room, your face all screwed up in pleasure and your occasional gasps of his name, how can Gyutaro not want to mark you as his?

You’ll find that he often uses those possessive nicknames for you in the bedroom too, always going on and on about how you’re his girl, his cunt, his love.

And really, spitting in your mouth and on you is just a natural progression of this sentiment. He starts off with spitting onto your breasts – a glob of saliva landing on a sensitive nipple, making everything slick as he pinches and toys with the area, hearing you keen above him.

Then it’ll transition to him spitting onto your collarbone, rubbing the wetness over the bone, leaning down to suck dark hickeys against your skin, getting the area even more sticky with his saliva.

He’ll move on to spitting directly onto your cunt after that, spreading your pretty folds and letting the spit land right over your quivering hole, loving the way you jerk slightly at the weird sensation. It makes it easier when he fingers you, just that extra layer of wetness making his fingers glide in and out of you, pulling moans and whines from your lips.

He’ll spit at your asshole when he’s got you bent over, thumb rubbing against the hole and only slightly dipping in, enjoying the way you yelp and get all tense.

It’s only after he’s grown comfortable with spitting all over your body that he finally ends up seeing your open mouth under him as he fucks you with fast, harsh thrusts, hovering above you and staring down at you without blinking. He’ll spit directly onto your tongue, staring with panting breaths, before telling you in that familiar strained voice to swallow, his eyes watching the way your throat bobs as you do what he says.

It’s hot, really – the kind of thing that makes his cock twitch and bob, the idea that you have his saliva inside of you making something in his gut sit pleasantly.

And if you were to spit in his mouth, Gyutaro would actually fucking whimper. He wants you to be possessive over him, to want him all to yourself, to think of him as yours – and if you were to be riding him, hips clapping against his as you milk him for everything he’s worth, Gyutaro would gladly open his mouth wide, waiting with baited breath and shut eyes to feel your warm spit against his tongue. He’ll swallow for you, even opening his mouth again in case you’re feeling generous and want to give him more.

He just thinks it’s hot, and he’d be more than willing to bring spitting into your non-sexual lives too – it’s just so intimate and meaningful, don’t you agree?

BIGGEST FANTASY:

As a general rule, Gyutaro is a massive fan of touching you.

There’s quite literally nothing about your body or yourself that could ever turn him off; he thinks every inch of you is exquisite, no matter what your personal qualms may be. And because he thinks of you as something so wonderful and sweet and his, he finds everything that your body does equally as arousing as your pretty face.

And so, while he’s never given it much thought, the moment he smells blood in the air around you, he’s immediately fighting off both his appetite and the intense fear coursing through him because why the fuck are you bleeding?

He’s not sure what’s going on initially, until he follows the blood source and finds it to be between your trembling legs. You’re scared, understandably, at why he’s so suddenly yanking your legs apart, eyes boring right into your crotch, but when he starts ripping at the cloth covering you, there’s not much you can do.

And so, once you explain what’s going on after his frantic why are you bleeding is asked in a panicked voice, suddenly Gyutaro is stiffening up, his thoughts running wild. He’d always been just slightly curious – you smell so sweet, and while there’s no part of him that desires to eat you, there’s something about the way your blood smells, the way you smell…

He quickly learns that having sex with you while you’re on your period is his absolute favorite. You’re so sensitive and pliable, your face screwing up at even the slightest presses of his fingers against your clit, your pussy always wet with blood, easy to slip his fingers in and out of.

He loves it, and the way your smell grows even more pronounced during this time has his head spinning, and fuck the taste –

He thinks he’s lost his mind the first time his lips touch your pussy with a smear of your blood across it, the sweet and metallic taste making his hips involuntarily jerk, his orgasm dangerously close already.

He’s always, always willing to pleasure you while you’re menstruating, to the point where he’s actively offering once he smells that familiar tinge of metal in the air, practically begging you with those half lidded eyes to let me make you feel good, yeah? I’ll be gentle, or at least I’ll try.

He’s careful with his motions at first, though it doesn’t last long – his fingers press into your thighs, nails dangerously close to piercing the skin, while his tongue laps at your cunt like a man starved.

Besides, aren’t orgasms healthy for women, especially during this time of the month? He’s heard so from the other Oirans (in hushed, embarrassed whispers), and what kind of a lover would he be if he didn’t attempt to take care of your every need?

You winced, the cramps in your lower stomach making shifting your sitting position difficult. Your period had arrived very suddenly – it was just starting, and a quick swipe of your fingers below your panties had you sighing in frustration. The dank light of the lair was bright enough to show the red stain of your fingers as you retracted your hand, and with a dejected sloop of your shoulders you leaned back against the dirt wall. Eyes closed, you let your arms wrap around your stomach, resigned to the knowledge that you’ll bleed out through your clothes and onto the dirt ground below before you’d ever ask Gyutaro for sanitary supplies.

Not that he’d say no – although, maybe that scared you more.

Daki scrunched up her nose as she registered the smell, sending you a look. “What’s that stench?”

You bit your lip, quickly apologizing. “I’m sorry, it should be over in…”

Unsure of how much Daki knew of menstruation, you left the question unanswered, instead wincing as another cramp rolled through. She grunted, her brow twitching as she crossed her arms. “Aren’t you going to answer me?”

You glanced at her, begging with your eyes for her to leave it alone, and despite her scowl, she merely sighed and pivoted on her heel, jumping up to race out of the lair and into the night air far above. You sighed as well, closing your eyes and relaxing as much as you could.

Your relaxation was cut short, however, as a loud bang and a voice wailed out, “Why is there blood? What’s going on?”

Gyutaro had arrived, and as you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of him rushing forward, grabbing a knee in each hand and spreading your legs with a surprising amount of force.

“From here…” He muttered, head leaning down as his gaze focused on your clothed pussy, the kimono and underwear you’d been dressed in earlier that day already seeped through with blood. The red stained the fabric, sending Gyutaro into a further state of panic.

Nails dug into his neck and chest as he stared wildly at you, leaning deeply into your personal space as he growled, “What happened?”

You shrank back, stuttering out, “I – I’m menstruating.”

Gyutaro blinked, his breath heavy with the panic still running through him. “What?”

“I’m menstruating. I’m okay, I’m – I’m not injured.” Your voice was weak, but Gyutaro didn’t seem to notice.

“What is menstruation?” He asked, the scratching sound of his fingers against his neck still prominent in your ears. “Well?”

“It’s um, a sign that I’m fertile…” You whispered, fear squeezing at your heart.

Gyutaro stared at you for a moment, before glancing down between your legs. “Are you in pain? Does it hurt?”

You shook your head, hoping he’d believe the lie.

A moment passed, before he visibly gulped. He slowly lied down on his stomach, his hands frozen for a second before suddenly ripping at your clothing. The area surrounding your pussy was ripped off, exposing yourself to the cold air as you gasped and shivered. The sudden motions were over before you can blink, Gyutaro’s eyes trained on your bloodstained folds.

He looked like a child in a candy store; dilated pupils, his breathing heavy, lips parted enough to allow drool to pool at the edges. You closed your eyes, willing yourself to not flinch when he was this close to you, especially as you saw his razor sharp teeth.

You yelped when a finger reached out to very lightly brush over your pussy, his skin just barely grazing your own. You bit your lip.

He repeated his ministration, adding a bit more pressure. A moan slipped past your lips as his finger passed over your clit, and immediately you clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes wide as his gaze snaped back up to you. His face was bright red, you realized, the blush heavy over his cheeks as licked at his lips. With his gaze still locked on yours, he pressed back on that same spot, your clit oversensitive and making you lowly groan, your thighs involuntarily jerking as he began rubbing up and down the area.

“G-gyutaro…” You whined out, tucking your lower lip under your teeth as you lightly squirmed. He watched with rapt attention. You seemed to be enjoying yourself – do you like being touched while you’re ‘menstruating’? As long as you weren’t injured with all this blood – this blood, that was such an intoxicating, delicious scent, the best thing he’s ever smelled.

With a small, wobbly smile up at you, Gyutaro suddenly dove in, lips pressing against your folds as you gasped and jerked your hips, sending him in even deeper so that his nose brushed against your clit. You gasped his name, encouraging him to dart his tongue out, your blood immediately registered on his taste buds. His eyes blew wide, his hips jerking forward against the ground, the sudden wave of arousal because of your scent making his knees feel weak. He moaned around your skin, his tongue eagerly licking and getting to work against your sensitive skin.

Groans and whimpers vibrated against you, his sounds rivaling your own as you moaned and reached a hand down to run through his hair. Gyutaro’s grip on your thighs tightened at the feeling, and when you tugged a bit at the roots, the growl that left his lips had your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Gyu-“ You started, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensitivity of his tongue on you. It was too much – the pleasure too acute, but as a hand left the plush of your thighs and instead snaked down to press against your clit, you gasped.

A strangled moan slipped past your lips as Gyutaro worked his finger in circles against your bundle of nerves, his tongue still licking and slurping against your folds. The combination of the stimulation had your head spinning, the sensation nearly too much, and as you whined out his name and dug your fingers even more harshly against his scalp, Gyutaro couldn’t help but moan in response.

You tasted so fucking good – the best blood he’s ever feasted on. Sweet, yet savory, a taste entirely your own. His cock was achingly hard in his pants, pressing against the bandaged cloth as he ground his hips against the dirt floor of the lair, the pressure not nearly enough to relieve the terrible ache. He wanted more more more – more of you, more of your perfect little pussy, more of the sounds slipping past your lips, more of the taste of your blood.

Soon you were shaking, thighs trembling as your orgasm crashed through you, your head throwing back as you cried out, slick and blood mixed together on Gyutaro’s tongue, chin and fingers. His thumb never stopped its motions, continuing the bliss as you slowly came down from your high, your clit nearly rubbed raw as the overstimulation began hitting you.

Squirming, you tried to push his head away from your cunt, but Gyutaro’s growl had you stopping quickly.

Pulling back slightly (only enough to speak), Gyutaro warned in a low voice out of breath, “Don’t move, stay still or I’ll make you come so much you cry.”

You only gulped and nodded, the feeling of his nails pressing into your thigh making you shiver, your hips jerking at the overwhelming sensation of Gyutaro’s ministrations.

“Tastes so good, so so so good –“ Gyutaro moaned, the sound muffled against your skin as he gulped and sucked at your pussy, nearly making out with your delicate folds. You whined, squeezing your eyes shut tightly – it was too much.

But for Gyutaro, it’d never be enough; after all, how could he let such a delicacy between your legs be taken for granted? Especially when you looked so pretty all panting and bloody once he’d fucked you with his tongue, fingers and cock more times than you could count.

#yandere kny #yandere demon slayer #yandere gyutaro #gyutaro x reader #kny smut #gyutaro smut #_gyutaro #_kny #_lee's profiles

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Text

𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑖

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother,steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 4.7k | chapter 2 of 4

Then

The Todoroki house was the most interesting place you had ever been.

At home it was just you and your mom, and most of the time she was working, or recovering from working, but the Todoroki house was packed with children from wall to wall. There was almost never a dull minute—except when Todoroki Enji came home and everyone got stiff and weird—but when he wasn’t around, you found you preferred the Todoroki mansion to the loneliness of your own empty house.

Touya seemed to sense this, and deigned to invite you over often, enough that you found yourself following him home after school at least once a week.

After the first time, you’d been introduced to his other siblings, Fuyumi and Natuso, who were both much nicer than Touya, and notably far more talkative. Shouto was a near-constant too, almost always propped on his mother’s hip when you arrived home, and always eager to be handed off to you, enough that you could tell Touya was annoyed.

“You’re not even related,” he complained, and you hid a smile at his barely-couched jealousy.

“I’m just better than you,” you told him, sticking your tongue out, dodging when he tried to grab it. You’d never had siblings, and you’d been forced to learn quickly that nothing was off-limits to people with younger siblings. Revenge would always be exacted.

Even when Shouto got older, old enough to talk in complete sentences and toddle about on his own, he seemed to prefer your company. You and Touya were almost never left alone to play on your own, Shouto always in the room with you, almost velcroed to your side.

He was on the floor next to you in the living room on one such occasion, Touya absolutely destroying you in Super Mario, when Rei called Touya in from the kitchen.

Touya rolled his eyes, pausing and flinging his controller at your head with the manner of someone who hoped it actually connected. “Don’t restart while I’m gone or I’ll kill you.”

You saluted him as he stomped out, taking a minute to stretch out from where you’d sat hunched over your controller. You bumped Shouto as you did, and he looked up at you from his coloring book, where he was shading in a pair of penguins in hot pink.

“Nice choice,” you told him, and Shouto looked a little bit like he was trying not to preen.

“Izuku in my class says penguins mate for life, like us,” he said, authoritatively.

You blinked, your brain snagging on the like us. Alphas, betas, and omegas could mate for life, and were generally expected to, but that didn’t always quite play out if you didn’t find your life mate. Your mother was a near-hand example, your father having left her while you were still in swaddling clothes, only to pass away a short few years later. They hadn’t been life mates, you’d come to realize recently—though your mother still believed in them. You hoped she’d find hers still, someday.

You thought maybe, however, that you were not going to hold out hope for your own, if it was as tricky as it seemed.

“You know not everyone does, right?” you asked, peering down at Shouto.

Wide, guileless eyes stared back up at you. Shouto had lost a little of his baby fat recently, but absolutely none of his sweetness.

“Who does not?” he demanded, sitting back on his haunches.

You fiddled with the controller in your fingers, wondering suddenly if you should have brought this up with him. “Some people. My parents didn’t,” you said, cautiously.

Shouto’s eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch. “Your parents?”

You shook your head. “Sometimes people don’t find them even after all of the mating runs.”

Shouto did not look pleased with this. His eyes roved over you, pinning on you with a sort of sudden, unnerving intensity. “Sometimes people go on mating runs. And their life mate is not there because they are too young to go yet.”

You blinked, surprised by the specificity of this conclusion. “Sometimes, probably, yeah.”

Shouto’s tiny frown deepened, and he carefully arranged himself up against your side. “You will wait though, right?”

Your hand found its way unthinkingly into his hair, ruffling it. He was a sweet kid. “I mean, people usually go through more than one mating run, right?”

Shouto pressed more insistently into your side. “You will keep going until your life mate is there, though.”

You had an image of yourself, greying and eighty, slowly wobbling on your cane through the preserve. You suppressed a laugh. “I’ll go as I can until I age out, how about that?”

Shouto nodded, satisfied. His crayon resumed on the penguins, fiery pink streaking across the page. “I will be there,” he pronounced definitively.

His decisive tone startled a laugh out of you. You grinned down at him, unable to help the urge to ruffle his hair again. “I’ll stick around until we can run together. Although you better get good at climbing trees.”

Shouto blinked, his mouth pursing in puzzlement. “Trees,” he repeated to himself.

You nodded. “If I’m not an alpha, and I have to hide somewhere, I’m going to find the best tree in the preserve and go up it and not come down until I find my life mate.”

You would not be like your parents. You would not settle, and you would be realistic about your prospects.

Shouto’s eyes tracked across your face once more, like he was committing the statement to memory.

“You’re welcome to come up with me,” you said. You couldn’t imagine Shouto as anything other than an omega like his mom, not with that sweet little face. You didn’t like the idea of some alpha trying to get at him, so it was better he stay safe in your tree with you.

The thought suddenly rankled, and you decided you were done with this discussion. Better not to think of Shouto all grown up and spirited away from everyone until you absolutely had to.

You tapped a finger on Shouto’s coloring book, turning him back to it. “Anyway. Tell me about the other animals in here? Did Izuku tell you about any of these?”

Shouto looked down at the page, his expression shifting seriously. “This is a killer whale,” he said, pointing to a corner of the page he’d colored in with a blob of forest green. “They are related to dolphins. They are the biggest dolphin in the world.”

You nodded, relaxing back on your hands, gesturing for him to go on.

Shouto took his job very seriously, explaining solemnly and in great detail all the animals on the page, the way he sometimes described all his toys to you. You let him go on, finding that you liked listening to Shouto talk—he was rarely so wordy, but he was easy and familiar and funny in how seriously he took everything.

You laid back and listened to him, hoping Touya took a little extra time in the kitchen. Shouto looked pleased to have your attention, and soon enough you found yourself dozing, your head against his little thigh, content with Shouto’s sweet little voice washing over you.

In Shouto’s company, the Todoroki house felt a lot like home.

Now

Your beloved mother woke you in the morning ramming the vacuum into the door of your old bedroom-turned-storage room.

You groaned from your air mattress, your old bed frame sold off already to pay a gas bill. You missed that thing.

“Only a week together and you were out all day yesterday,” your mother said when you emerged from your old room, shooting you a look that immediately made you feel like a teenager again. She was wearing one of your old sweatshirts, that she’d clearly commandeered because she’d missed you.

Your heart squeezed a little at the familiar sight of her, but not enough to curb your morning fussiness.

“Maybe I was out scoping alphas to pounce on during the run,” you said, shuffling towards the kitchen and the promise of coffee.

“You were out with the mayor’s son,” she said, sniffing. A small smile pulled at your mouth—she had pettily refused to call Touya by his name for years.

She’d been thrilled by your friendship with him when you were kids. From the outside, Touya had looked like a beautiful little boy from a well-to-do family. You knew she’d once held out hope for your friendship to turn into something more, to see you settled into a well-off family and taken good care of.

For your part, however, you’d been drawn to Touya but never interested in that way, and you knew Touya felt the same. And things had only gotten more complicated when Touya’s mental health had crumbled like dirt under his father’s heel, and even worse when the Todoroki family fire broke out; Touya’s extensive burns damaged his glands and destroyed any evidence of his secondary gender before he’d even presented. Though, personally, you’d always suspected he was an omega. He was showy, flashy, possessed of that classic omega need for praise and attention—not quite to your tastes.

You thought you probably preferred someone a little more lowkey, someone steady and easy. Definitely not Touya.

There was also the fact that his efforts as of late seemed directed at the one quarter of your friend group with blonde, fluffy hair. Though you knew Touya would rather burn his remaining skin off before admitting it.

Either way, your mother’s hopes of a marriage into the Todoroki family were dashed, along with her opinion of Todoroki Enji when things finally came to head, and she’d never quite forgiven Touya for it.

“Touya says hello,” you answered distractedly, fiddling around with the coffee machine, though of course Touya had said no such thing. “I saw Rei though, and Natsuo and Fuyumi and Shouto. Did you know Shouto is a firefighter now? He’s gotten so big.”

“An alpha?” your mom’s voice floated out from the living room, her eagerness not quite suppressed.

You laughed, though a tiny, strange sort of spark lit up your spine. “Mom, I’m a couple years too old for him. I’m like his grandma.”

“Oh you are not, you dramatic thing,” you heard her sniff.

“Our first date could be at my bingo hall,” you carried on over the hiss of the water boiling, the dribble of coffee into the pot. “And we could get drunk on our prune juice, and I could slide out my dentures waiting for him to kiss me—”

“I’m going to sell you,” your mother said, her vacuum starting up again pointedly. You heard the distinct thump of it being rammed into a couch leg and grinned.

You knew she wanted to see you settled because she loved you, wanted to see you taken care of in all the ways that she hadn’t been. Your father had let her down years before he’d even passed, which you thought should have besmirched any alpha’s good name in your mother’s book. But she was determined to believe in love and life mates despite it all, and you admired her for it. She was a stubborn thing.

You spent the morning helping her do chores, clambering up onto the counters and getting all the places she couldn’t regularly reach, hauling out her trash and googling your way through some low-level repairs. You shared a quick breakfast in between, dodging more questions about the mating run, before returning to cleaning.

You were covered in dust and a thin layer of Lysol by the time you remembered you’d promised to meet Shouto at the fire station for lunch. There was not enough time to change or shower if you wanted to pick something up on the way, and you supposed it was well enough that Shouto did not actually possess the level of interest in you that your mother might have wanted him to.

“Going to see my child bride,” you told your mom on the way out, laughing and dodging a sponge.

The walk to the fire station took the better part of forty-five minutes, including a long interlude spent hemming and hawing over the prepared foods section of the grocery store before you finally settled on cold soba—Shouto’s favorite from when you were younger, if you remembered correctly.

The fire station itself was an older, whitewashed multi-story building, set back from the main road. The garage doors were open in the warming spring air, the bright red of the fire engines clearly visible from blocks away. You must have been visible from blocks away, too, because Shouto stepped out as you turned onto the drive, the dark blue of his stationwear stark against his skin.

Your heart did a strange lurching motion in your chest, and you pointedly did not let your eyes linger on the way his uniform belted in at his hips, highlighting the trimness of his waist and the breadth of his shoulders. Nope.

“Hi Shouto,” you said, holding up your bag of spoils. “You still like soba, right?”

Shouto blinked, his eyelashes fluttering. Long fingers touched the bag, hefting it carefully from your grip. “You remember.”

You grinned up at him. “How could I forget? Especially because I was there when you had it for the first time. You flung some at Touya from your high chair and it ended up on me instead.”

Shouto looked embarrassed, a pink flush spreading prettily across the tops of his high cheekbones. “I do not believe you.”

“Uh huh,” you said.

Shouto’s mouth pulled into what might have been a nonexpression on anyone else, but was most definitely a pout on him. Cute.

“I can reassure you there will be no soba flung today,” he promised, his deep voice earnest. Then he paused. “Touya is not in range.”

A surprised laugh escaped you, and the edge of Shouto’s lips pulled. He looked pleased with himself for having drawn it out of you. He’d always made you laugh, even as a kid—though mostly for how incongruously serious he was as a child, even about the silliest things. But also for how he seemed able to press people’s buttons—Touya’s especially—just by existing.

Shouto gestured you inside, and you studied the firetrucks as you passed them, mostly so you did not watch the way Shouto’s shoulders shifted beneath his shirt.

When he caught your look of curiosity, Shouto led you over to one, opening the door for you to take a look inside. You peered at all the knobs and switches interestedly, leaning into the cab. It looked complex, and yet very familiar. It actually looked a lot like the toy fire truck that once spent a fair amount of time occupying the inside of baby Shouto’s mouth.

You glanced back, opening your mouth to tell Shouto as much, when suddenly two large hands were at your waist, warm and sure. They lifted you right into the driver’s seat like it was absolutely no effort.

You fell into the cab, suddenly winded. You whipped around to stare at Shouto, heart hammering with the casual display of alpha strength, unable to help the wide-eyed look you knew you were giving him. That was—that was—not allowed.

“Am I—can I be—in here?” you garbled out, trying not to make obvious the real reason for your sudden disorientation.

Shouto stepped up onto the wheel plate to lean into the cab beside you, bringing in a puff of that scent like campfire on a cold day. “Yes,” he answered, looking unbothered with how close his face was to yours.

You watched him helplessly, brain fogging with his proximity and his scent. He was very, very pretty up close. He’d grown into what had to be the most beautiful person you’d actually ever seen—his mother’s looks, dialed up to an eleven. The deliberate alpha edge to him should have been at odds with that delicate sensuality—but instead it was like his secondary gender sat on him like a beam of sunlight, highlighting his beauty.

It was totally at conflict with the round, pudgy little thing he’d been when you’d first seen him, the lanky preteen you’d left him as.

He felt so familiar and yet so strangely new. It was disconcerting.

You quickly averted your gaze, making a show of leaning in over all the dials and buttons. Shouto leaned right over your lap, his chest warm against your legs, patiently explaining what each one did in his low, calm tone. The depth of his voice was so shocking, but the tone so similar to what it had been—you could remember him explaining animals in his coloring book to you in much the same level of careful detail once.

Your head spun with the dichotomy. Baby Shouto, a lifetime away, and adult alpha Shouto here in front of you—

You hurriedly pushed the thought of adult alpha Shouto down before you could think too deeply on it. That was off limits.

When you’d had your fill and Shouto had managed to make sure you didn’t accidentally deploy the ladder in the station itself, he helped you down from the cab, his hands hot on your waist.

“I’m old but still spry enough to get myself down, young man,” you told him as he settled you back on the station floor. Your heartbeat felt like it was somewhere around your throat.

“I did not hear your bones creak at least,” Shouto said, startling you into a laugh again.

His mouth twitched as he led you further into the station, giving you a short tour of the gear racks, the office, the laundry room and fitness room stuffed with several of his coworkers, a room that smelled overwhelmingly of clashing alpha scents, none nearly as good as Shouto’s.

A cheery red head waved to you from the leg press, that Shouto introduced as Kirishima, and a blonde alpha greeted him with a towel whipped directly at Shouto’s face. Shouto ducked it with the ease of long practice.

“Oi halfie, who the fuck told you you could eat the cookies I brought in?” the blonde demanded, barely sparing you an acknowledging glace as he reracked a mind-bogglingly enormous set of weights.

Shouto introduced him anyway, in a deliberately bland tone that you immediately recognized as one he deployed to rile up Touya. “This is Bakugou Katsuki.”

“Answer the damn question,” Bakugou said.

Shouto blinked long and slow and absolutely meant to annoy. You hid a smile. “Am I expected to fight fires on an empty stomach,” Shouto said, flatter than a question.

“I’ll fucking show you an empty stomach when I rip out your—”

“You must be Y/N,” Kirishima said loudly from the leg press. You instantly clocked a beta disruption technique at work and smiled at him.

“Nice to meet you,” you said, searching for something to reply with, uniting in his peace-keeping mission. “That’s—an impressive amount of weight.”

“Thanks!” Kirishima said brightly.

Out of the corner of your eye you caught Shouto’s head snapping towards you, and you looked back to find his eyes narrowed on you.

“I can press as much,” Shouto said, his tone insistent. He crowded a little closer to you.

Your eyebrows crept towards your hairline, mystified. “I—that’s—great?”

A tiny frown pulled at Shouto’s mouth, and a disgusted sound issued from Bakugou’s corner of the gym. “You gotta be fucking kidding me. Take this shit right outta here,” Bakugou demanded.

Shouto ignored him, still staring at you. He pressed closer, his shoulders shifting so that he was angled between you and Kirishima, obscuring most of your line of sight.

“I—mean you definitely look like you can press, um, a lot,” you continued, bewildered. “The only pressing I do is, uh, french press.”

The frown evaporated from Shouto’s expression, something suddenly pleased descending over it instead. Beyond him, you thought you could see Kirishima smiling, mouthing you look like you can press a lot to Bakugou, and an answering eye-roll from Bakugou. Oh god. Had you said that?

Your face heated, and you immediately decided an evacuation was in order. “Well thanks for letting us interrupt you. Nice to meet you guys. Shouto—should we—?”

Shouto’s hand found the small of your back, gently guiding you. All thought of Kirishima and Bakugou suddenly evaporated under the feeling of that hot palm, and you barely managed another wave as Shouto shadowed you out of the room. He led you up a flight of stairs to the dorm area, where several more of his coworkers were arrayed, chatting over their own lunches.

Face still sort of warm, you helped Shouto unpack the soba and the various side dishes you’d grabbed. He disappeared further into the kitchen and returned with glasses of water and the appropriate utensils, arraying everything in front of you.

“So this is going to be your first run,” you said conversationally, after you’d taken your first bite of soba. “Got any lucky omega in mind?”

Shouto’s eyes darted up from his chopsticks to your face, grey and blue pinning you. “I have… someone in mind,” he said, after a moment.

A strange twinge made itself known in your chest again. You ignored it, shoving more noodles into your mouth determinedly.

“I am sure you will have absolutely no trouble, but I am happy to give you a quick rundown of all the usual hiding spots anyway,” you said. “Most omegas actually end up not too far into the preserve because they want to be caught, so it should be pretty easy.”

One of Shouto’s brows quirked the tiniest bit. “I have reason to believe I’ll need to follow at least a few miles.”

You felt your own eyebrows lift. Not too many omegas went super far in, unless they were looking to avoid someone or pose a real challenge. You went miles in specifically for that reason as well—to steer clear of the action, not that it was likely to find you anyway—and get up your tree before anyone came looking.

“There’s fewer spots that far out because the brush gets all scraggly at the coast,” you said. “There’s a few outcroppings though that I’ve seen omegas go for. You really think your intended will go that far?”

Shouto considered you for a long moment, those mismatched eyes roving over you. “I do.”

Whoever it was, they were going to make him work for it, huh? You suppressed a growing spot of offense on his behalf.

“And you’re sure about this person?” you asked.

Shouto nodded. “I have been sure since I was very small.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the same time as your stomach seemed to drop. That was very sweet—and also strangely disheartening to hear.

Why was that disheartening?

“Then—do you think they’re for sure your life mate?” you asked, taking a careful, studied sip of water.

“I do,” Shouto answered. The simplicity of his statement spoke for itself. You were a beta and did not have quite the same capacity to detect your mate as an alpha, but you knew alphas always knew. You wondered if he’d always known he was going to end up an alpha if he’d had that instinctive understanding since he was young.

You wondered why he’d never said anything, all those years you’d grown up together.

Your heart did a strange dip, sinking at the same time it lifted for him.

“I’m really happy for you Shouto. I’m glad I came back just in time to see you find happiness, when it feels like I have already missed so much else,” you told him.

Shouto leaned forward, catching your eye. His gaze was serious where it caught yours. “I am glad you came back, too. You have been… missed,” he said.

Your heartbeat fluttered, and you gripped the edge of the table, trying to quell the feeling. It would not do to be too overwhelmed by Shouto. Not now.

You managed a smile, and quickly rerouted the conversation back to the hiding spots you knew, and the forest trails you’d seen most omegas utilize. Shouto watched you carefully, and you hoped he was committing the information to memory.

After that the conversation turned to more innocuous topics, a rehashing of some of your shared childhood memories, some picking on Touya. The soba disappeared between the two of you, as well as all the side dishes you’d brought. Shouto was incredibly easy to talk to, you found—a fascinating blend of the earnest, slight shit-stirrer of a little boy you’d known and a blandly funny adult man. He had some of Touya’s underlying propensity towards intensity, and some of his mother’s thoughtful sweetness—and you liked the way the familiar traits blended into something faceted and interesting.

He really had grown up.

After lunch he let you explore more of the station, showing you all the compartments on the fire engines, explaining all the equipment. On the way to the door he also let you rifle through the gear bays, showing you his own rack of turnout gear.

He even let you try his jacket on, looking like he was suppressing a smile when the heaviness of it weighed your arms down, watching you flap your arms around, marveling as what was easily twenty pounds of heat-proof fabric resisted you.

No wonder he needed such an intense workout routine.

You couldn’t help but be amazed by it all—who Shouto had turned into, and the fact that he had such an impressive job, one that fit him so well. The fact that he was an adult now, with goals and ambitions that were a lot more grounded than yours. The fact that he was an alpha of all things, and could lift you up into a firetruck as easily as you’d once lifted him off Touya’s hip.

It was so much to contemplate, and you watched him, helplessly fascinated, as he led you around.

You lingered for long enough that the sky was tinging pink and orange by the time you left, and Shouto saw you to the door, insisting on plugging in his number to your phone so you could text when you got home. You could still feel his eyes on you as you turned the corner down the street, a strange warmth suffusing you as you walked. It kept you warm the entire way home, despite the cool evening air.

It was only when you arrived at your mother’s front door, shooting off your promised text to Shouto that you realized that you were mooning like a girl returning home from a date—a completely embarrassing, inappropriate tact for your mind to take with someone who had been your childhood friend. Your childhood junior.

Besides, Shouto had explicitly said he had someone in mind already, someone he intended to follow during the run. And you were too old for him, and a beta as well. Alpha-beta couplings were rare—and if Shouto had known who his life mate was since he was very small, and never given any indication it was a beta—well that spoke for itself.

You shook your head as you let yourself in through the door, trying to slough off the feeling as you called a greeting to your mother. It was sad you’d never get to haul him up a tree after you, the way you’d promised when you were kids. But such was life, you guessed.

Shouto may have grown up into an admirable man and a beautiful alpha—but he was off limits to you. You’d make sure you treated him with nothing but the respect and friendly fondness he deserved. Nothing else.

Absolutely nothing else.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x midoriya #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha x reader #shouto x y/n #shouto x you #shoto x reader #shoto x you

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hard--headed--woman · 2 months

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Something happened in my English class that I think perfectly sums up how so many people don't understand feminism.

At the beginning of each class, we have to talk about something in english for two minutes. This woman decided to talk about radical feminism in South Korea. She explained how feminists there decide not to date men, have sex with men, marry men and have kids with men anymore. It was very interesting and well explained, and I was happy to see another woman from my uni talking about feminism. From what I understood, she's not Korean but goes to Korea often and has a lot of radical feminists friends there.

Then another woman raises her hand and asks "don't you think these rules are a little bit tough?". I roll my eyes, but the other woman is confused. She frowns. "What rules? What are you talking about?". "I mean, the not dating men rule. Isn’t it a bit too tough?". "Well of course it's tough for the men but that's the goal isn’t? Feminism has to be a bit tough to men in order to work". She really didn't seem to understand what that other woman meant, and the other was apparently confused about it. "I mean for the women... for the Korean women. Aren't these rules too tough for Korean feminists? Isn’t there a way to help women without giving them such hard rules to follow?".

I was very annoyed (so was the woman who talked about this movement in the first place) because how can you miss the point so badly? How does she think feminism works? Does she believe some sort of higher power gives Korean women rules to follow and that they get thrown in jail if they date a man? How can you describe this movement as "rules"? They aren't rules. They would be rules if Korean women were forced to obey them, if they were punished for dating men. That's not the case. What's happening is that some women decide of their own free will to stop dating men (among other things). They don't follow any rules, they freely chose to do what they do. It's about women's freedom, about women deciding what they do with their life and body. But I guess people nowadays use this concept only to defend prostitution and makeup, without understanding it in reality, when it comes to women doing things that go against what the patriarchy wants them to do.

Anyway, I find it interesting that this woman's first conclusion was that these were rules rather than free choices. This is why many people see radical feminism as a cult; they can't understand the idea of women making their own choices if those choices defy patriarchy. They think we must be some kind of cult that brainwashes them and forces them to obey and follow complicated rules, because how else can a woman decide to stop fucking men? A free woman would never do that.

#radblr #radical feminism #radfem safe #radfem #radical feminist safe #radical feminists please touch #radical feminists do touch #rad fem #radical feminist #radical feminists do interact #4b movement #korean feminism #korean radfems #feminism #women's rights #feminist #korea #south korea

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abbyromanoff · 7 months

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Hey love ur fics so muchhh was wondering if u could write a fic about g!p wanda and innocent fem reader, corruption kink ofcc. Reader hasn't even had her first kiss and Wanda teaches her how to tongue kiss and so much more(just v penetration no anal). Heavy breeding kink as well plsss

FOLLOW MY LEAD

PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 3,750

WARNINGS: smut, corruption kink, older!Wanda, innocence kink, breeding kink, Wanda has a dick, making out, kinda slow burn, age gap (legal), best friends mom!Wanda, sex in a pool, degrading, praise kink, cunnilingus, Mommy (W), mentions of masturbation and failed masturbation, some angst and fluff, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Wanda watched with a smile as you licked the icing off of the cupcake she had given you. She had been inviting you over for weeks now and it’s been getting all the more difficult to ignore you. You were best friends with her twin boys and had been for a few years so them leaving for college wasn’t easy. They were both traveling across the state to study while you chose to stay back in your home region, Wanda couldn’t have been happier with your choice. You didn’t have many friends to spend time with in your lonely hours and the mother next door pitied you for it, or at least that’s what you thought.

In reality, she had been harboring a growing attraction towards you for months now. You never really saw her beforehand, she was often times on business trips or working at her home office during her children’s teen years. But you didn’t mind, she wasn’t the reason you spent so much time with Tommy and Billy, but now she was the only reason you had to visit the house you called home for so many years.

“The oven will be going off in just a moment, do you mind taking it out while I head to the bathroom?” You complied and she sent you a grateful smile along with a quick peck to your head that caused redness to paint your cheeks. Ever since your friends left you, you’ve been forced to notice all the moments you shared with the woman. She was beautiful, that was a fact. But not only did she bless you with her looks, she also was the only one who ever made you feel so safe and welcome. You couldn’t understand what you felt towards her, after all, she’s a woman, and you’ve never felt this way for the same gender.

All your life you were told to marry a man someday, to love him dearly and bear his children, but the more time you spent with her the more you realized that wasn’t what you wanted. You spent nights dreaming of her in many ways you wished you didn’t. There were times you’d be woken to a dampness on your panties when your consciousness blessed you with the images of her on top of you, kissing down your body before it ended. You just wanted to know what would happen next, and you were often left daydreaming about how it would go. It only brought a further amount of aching, but you didn’t know how to get rid of it. You were too afraid to do research so you suffered alone, praying that it would go away soon enough but it never did. No amount of praying or hoping could stop your needs.

Wanda was just as bad, only she knew ways to ease the ache. Nights were spent in her bed, alone, wishing you were next to her. She imagined waking up next to you, kissing across your face to wake you up. You’d toss and turn just a bit before opening your eyes and shining your adorable smile in her face. She’d kiss you with love before it became deeper, then she’d go just a bit lower and kiss your neck. She’d relish in your soft moans that nobody had ever had the privilege of hearing besides her. Then she’d drag her hand down your body delicately, teasing your hardened nipples before dipping lower and reaching the waistband of your pajamas. She’d dip her fingertips inside after hearing your small pleads and would gently rub your clit in small circles, letting you feel her length against your thigh. She would be aching, her tip drooling as she used one hand to stroke herself slowly, allowing both of your sounds of pleasure to echo throughout the room. You’d beg around her, feeling her fingers reach that soft spot deep inside of you and focusing on the tightness in your stomach. She’d pull your shorts lower along with hers, giving you permission to let go as she rubbed her cock against your folds, releasing her cum across your skin. You’d beg for more in that sweet tone, and she’d have no choice but to say yes.

Her thoughts of you plagued her mind throughout the day and with no one else to help her, she was stuck taking care of her needs alone. Her hand would wrap around her length, stroking slowly just like she did in her dreams, only this time it was you doing it. She’d call out your name while picturing you beneath her on your knees, staring up at her with a gentle gaze as she instructed you on what to do. She knew you were all alone as well, no one to help ease your wetness in the ways she wished to do. Only if you’d give in, only if you’d notice her lingering gazes and finally leaned up when she kissed your forehead, causing her lips to join yours. If only she had you in all the ways she wanted.

Wanda washed her hands in the sink before dabbing the water onto her face, looking at herself through the mirror with shame. You were still so young, so naive, it would be wrong to take that from you, but she wanted to so badly. She wanted to be the reason you smiled, the reason you could genuinely be yourself. She wanted to be the one who listened to your rambles about what others found stupid, but she could never think such a thing. Anyone would be lucky even to be blessed by your presence, she wasn’t going to lose that. She knew she had to make a move soon or she’d risk the chance of losing you without even having you.

She looked down, noticing her slightly hardened length was peaking through her jeans. She cursed to herself and tried to adjust it well enough to hide. Usually, she could keep it hidden from you, but this pair of pants seemed to not want to work with her. She was hoping you wouldn’t notice, but the moment she stepped into the kitchen and saw your gaze fall for a split second, she knew you knew. She could sense it from the small gulp you let out, your back instantly turning to face her as you made the excuse of mixing more icing. You were celebrating the return of the twins for the summer and she asked for your help, knowing how much you loved baking especially with her. She also used it as an excuse to see you again, just like she did every time she saw you.

She gained the courage to step behind you, lightly brushing her crotch against your bottom as she leaned over you. She sniffed the air filled with the smell of funfetti mix, it had always been the boy's favorite even well into their teen years.

“Well, doesn’t that smell absolutely divine?” She leaned her chin on top of your head as you hummed, too afraid to talk as you knew you’d let out something embarrassing with the way she felt against you. Your hands trembled ever so slightly as she placed her hand on your waist, using it as a hold as she reached for the spatula not far away.

“Did you bring your bathing suit, sweetheart?” She asked, receiving a small nod from your end as you reached for the object in her hand.

“Good girl. The pool is finally all cleaned thanks to your help, it’s only fair you get to be the first to test it out with me.” With her. Meaning she’d also be in a bathing suit, showing off her curves that you found so enticing. You feared how you’d act around her, even if you thought you were well at hiding it.

“Uhm, yeah. Yeah, sure.”

The decorating process continued to flow easily with much teasing from Wanda’s end, curse her body language. She was a very touchy person, that was well-known to you. You didn’t think it was all that special, until you noticed the fact that she’d only ever share a handshake between her closest friends. Was there something different about you?

You worried she just saw you as a daughter figure knowing how you were often neglected by your own parents. You didn’t want her to see you as a child anymore because you weren’t, you were a nineteen-year-old who was more than capable of handling things on their own. But what if she didn’t think that? What if she saw you in the ways everyone else around you did?

“Y/N? Earth to Y/N?” She called out, breaking you out of your trance as you blinked a few times. You were met with her soft smile in return, the same one that brought butterflies to your stomach.

“Is everything alright, dear? You looked a little sad there.” You sighed before giving a small nod, only ending up in an even deeper frown from the older woman. She was now dressed in her bathing suit, a bikini top along with swim shorts, even the simplest outfit sent you in spirals. You were currently covering yourself with a towel, your legs and shoulders being the only thing Wanda was able to see, but even that was enough to send her thoughts to places she wished they wouldn’t go.

“Oh, I’m fine, Miss. You- you look really beautiful.” You wanted to slap yourself for letting those words out, but it brought a blush to her cheeks, that was all you could’ve hoped for.

“First off, there’s no need to call me Miss, I believe we’re way past that point. And second of all, I appreciate it, dear, I haven’t worn these in years so I’m surprised they still fit.” She chuckled and looked down, hearing small sounds of your feet colliding with the floor as you came closer.

“Well, maybe you should wear it more often, I’m sure you’d catch a lot of attention.” But she wanted yours. She only wanted your attention, she couldn’t care about anyone else’s. Not when you stood there so perfectly without even realizing it. She’d make you see it. She’d make you see the beauty that shined throughout you.

“And why is that?”

“Like I said, you’re very beautiful, Wanda. Pregnancies affect all bodies, even years after. But, personally, I see them as signs of life. I wouldn’t have my best friends if it wasn’t for you, so I find every sign of that very, very pretty. I just wish everyone saw it that way, especially you.” You trailed off with a shrug, seeing her eyes light up with every sentence. You were never good at giving compliments, but with her, it seemed to flow with ease. You knew she deserved to hear them as you could tell no one spoke so highly of her often. You didn’t understand how, one glance from her could send anyone to their knees, but everyone seemed to be too afraid to say it to the highly-ranked businesswoman. Even you were nervous to say it around her, but her response always helped release that fear.

“I- thank you, Y/N. Nobody has ever spoken so highly of me.” She felt so vulnerable in the moment, where did things change? Only minutes ago she was teasing you relentlessly, now here she was with her heart swarming from your welcoming smile.

“You don’t need to thank me for being honest.” She nodded softly, wishing she could cling onto this moment forever. You were only feeding into her lust, forcing her to want more when she didn’t believe that was possible.

“What do you say about some lemonade, yeah? You can head outside and I’ll be out in just a minute with our drinks.” You complied and opened the screen door, giving one last glance before removing the towel placed over your shoulders. Wanda bit her lip as she eyed your figure, her gaze falling onto your bottoms. You wore a bikini, showing off every curve you stored that she had dreamed of. You were even more pleasing to the eye than she knew of.

“Here you are, darling,” She handed you the cold glass as you swam to the edge of the pool, your sunglasses resting on top of your head and tangling with your wet hair.

“How’s the water?”

“It’s good, pretty warm which I expected.” She gasped lowly as the wetness came higher up on her body. You swam over to her, grabbing both of her hands and pulling her in further. She let out a small yelp as you caught her, your faces sharing low proximity to the point you could feel her breath on yours.

“Uh, sorry-” You tried to pull away but were quickly stopped by her hands on your lower back. She brought you impossibly closer and you could feel her length pleading to be freed. In all honesty, she had been trying to disguise it since the moment you let your skin be shown. You were like a goddess, entrancing everyone possible and forcing their heartbeat to rise.

“I want to kiss you so bad right now, but I’m only going to if you want me to.” Your lips parted in shock as your eyes widened, your expression was starting to worry the older woman. She was ready to pull away until you stopped her, making the first move as you planted a meaningful peck onto her mouth. She felt her muscles tension start to die down while her hands held you tightly, traveling down to the exposing clothing you wore and squeezing your ass. You gasped lightly, allowing her tongue to move further and enter your mouth. She pressed your body against the wall, letting her fingertips toy with the waistband of your bikini bottoms before hiking your thigh against her waist, giving her easier access to trail it down your legs.

“You’re an even better kisser than I imagined.” You chuckled at her words, biting your lip as you felt her teasing your folds.

“You’ve- you’ve imagined kissing me?” A small whimper made way from your vocal cords and Wanda nearly came from the sound alone. She needed you so badly, there was no way she’d be able to stop now.

“Oh, I’ve imagined doing so many things to you, baby.” The recollection brought a new sense of arousal to her. The nights she’d stay up, moans bouncing off the walls as her mind went wild.

“I think of you too, Wanda.” You shyly, remarked, looking down as you spotted your legs opening more on their own. It was as if they were on their own accord, chasing after the high you’ve been wanting for months now.

“Yeah? Tell me, do you touch yourself when you think of Mommy, hm?” The nickname nearly brought a shake to your legs, your eyes traveling to the back of your head as you released a weak moan.

“I’ve- I’ve never-” She clicked her tongue loudly and for a quick second you felt her still and your body wanted to disagree, but the shame you held was too much. Maybe you really were too innocent or young for her, so naive to think you had a chance.

“I’m the first to touch this sweet, sweet pussy? Oh, baby girl, you have no idea how happy that makes Mommy to hear.” Your hands came up to her shoulders as you held yourself up, trying your best to not let her see your weakness. But Wanda saw everything, she always knew.

“Mommy’s got you, little one, she’s not going anywhere.” You could tell she was holding back slightly as she continued to rub your clit in small, gentle circles. You didn’t want her to hold back, you wanted to satisfy her needs correctly.

“Please, Mommy, I don’t want you to be gentle.” Your pout could’ve easily sent her to heaven, but she chose to remain calm and guide you to sit on the edge of the wall. Up to your knees were chilled with the water while the rest of your body soaked in the heat of the sun. Wanda instantly separated your legs and placed soft, yet bruising kisses on your thighs. She wanted to leave a mark. She wanted you to go home tonight and be forced to remember your previous activities, she wanted you to suffer so badly until you needed to see her again. She wanted to be your only escape, she wanted that hold over you that no one else could have.

Her tongue collided with your weeping cunt, giving you no preparation as she instantly caused the tightening in your stomach to worsen. Months and months of edging was catching up to you, but you didn’t want to fail her so quickly.

“You taste fucking amazing, princess.” She was sloppy with her movements, holding absolutely no care or shame as she only focused on your flavor. You were like her favorite fruit that she couldn’t quite get enough of, always reaching for more and telling herself it’ll be the last one, only the last one never came.

“M-Mommy-” She pulled away for a quick moment, leaving a small peck to your pulsing clit as her eyes landed on yours, guiding you into continuing.

“I feel funny.” You expressed, leading her to smirk in response.

“Oh, my poor baby, can you tell me more about how you’re feeling?” She fauxed a frown before continuing, her tongue sliding in and out of your tight hole as her moans vibrated against you. Your breath sped up, your chest heaving as tears pricked your eyes.

“It f-feels weird…in my stomach. I- ah! I-I kept feeling like this for..months!” You gasped when she sucked harshly on your clit. You’ve never felt so ecstatic, so small.

“I’d think of y-you, Mommy, and then my- my head would get f-fuzzy and it would feel all tingly down below.” You choked on your words, trying to manage out some sort of evidence that you were still in control of your body, but deep down you wanted to give her all sorts of power.

“Mhm, and how would you help those tingly feelings?” You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt your hips starting to move on their own against her face, your body begging for more.

“I don’t know, I- sometimes, I-I’d rub my thighs t-together, but I never knew what to- what to do.” She was so engrossed in your words and the way you were clenching around nothing, her cock was nearly drooling as she failed to satisfy herself. Now that she had you, she wasn’t going to waste the chance of getting a taste of your sweet cunt.

“Mhm, and it felt like this, right?” It never felt nearly as good, but you nodded anyway.

“Do you think you can do something for me, pretty girl?” Once again, you nodded, this time a whimper following as your hand fell to your breast. You tweaked your hardened nipples as instinct, you didn’t even realize what you were doing until you noticed her watching your movements.

“I want you to hold it, just for a few more minutes, okay? I know you can do it, you’re my strong girl!” She climbed out of the water, letting you lay down as she settled over you. The towel was warm due to the sun but her hot kisses were even warmer. She placed them against your neck, smiling into them as she noticed the forming visible marks.

“Mommy’s gonna go in now, is that alright?”

“Okay, Mommy.” You nearly squeaked when her tip entered you, the small amount already seeming to stretch your walls to the max. You grappled onto her chest for support, unable to stop yourself as your lips followed. She moaned lowly at the contact, her hips jutting forward just enough to cause a weak whine.

“Mommy, it hurts.” You ushered out, your teeth grazing against her sensitive skin and resulting in a groan.

“Fuck, Mommy’s so close, baby. C’mon, be a good little slut and I’ll let you cum with me.” You nervously brought a hand down to cup her balls, using your thumb to gently rub the skin as she bit her lip to suppress any sounds.

“Pl- please, Mommy, I wanna hear you.” Her eyes fluttered shut as she nodded, letting go of her lip as her mouth parted. Her pace quickened enough to have you mumbling incoherent sentences.

“Kiss me, darlin’,” She muttered before grasping the back of your neck and guiding you into her. Your mouth’s connected in a searing kiss, one that brought further ache to your core. Her tongue ran over your lips as she begged for you to let her in, which you quickly did. She explored your mouth as if a traveler on a conquest, only stopping when she gasped as liquids spurted onto her crotch. She looked down at you, eyes blown out and full of lust while holding shame and guilt.

“‘M sorry, I-I tried-” She shushed you quickly, stuffing her head in your neck as she sniffed your scent. You were so unbelievably intoxicating, that she couldn’t get enough.

“Oh, sweetie, Mommy’s so proud of you.” She praised. “So much so that I’m gonna give you a little gift,” Her sloppy thrusts stilled as you felt warm juices invading your tight hole. She was painting your walls with her cum, pressing even deeper as she watched droplets escape you.

“Oh, fuck! I’ve been wanting to fill this cunt for too fucking long, baby girl, you have no idea how badly I need this.” You clawed her back, leaving hints of red marks as you drew lines with your nails. They weren’t very long, but the pleasure became too much and you quickly found yourself digging into her skin.

“You’re going to look so perfect carrying my babies. And when you go back to college, or when you walk around town, all the judgful looks will remind you of how much of a slut you are for your Mommy.” Suddenly, you remembered the two boys who were meant to be arriving in only a few hour's time. Your eyes shot open, your body trying to move from hers as she only continued to hold you tightly.

“No, love. They won’t be here for a while, and I’m going to spend every second I have left fucking you.”

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nwjws · 8 months

Text

in my head - yjw

; pairing - jungwon x fem!reader

; synopsis - you’ve hated jungwon ever since you two met on the train to hogwarts back in first year; he’s self-centered, lazy, and always coming out for you. now in your seventh year, you’ve been named head girl (woohoo!). unfortunately, the head boy position was given to the one and only yang jungwon (boohoo…). with no other choice, you’re forced to face the annoyingly attractive boy and work with him for the rest of the year - if you can even last that long.

; tags - fluff, angst, crack, ravenclaw! headboy!jungwon, slytherin! headgirl!reader, rivals to lovers, enemies to lovers, hogwarts au (with a modern twist), bc they have tablets and stuff

; warnings - a little bit of swearing, a lot of hostility between yn and jw, lmk if i missed anything!

; wc - 12.9k words (umm.... have fun!)

teaser

everyone’s eyes are on you as you stand up at the front of the great hall while the headmaster - professor bang si hyuk - introduces you as this year’s head girl. looking at all the students staring back up at you, you almost feel proud of yourself (keyword: almost).

you’d think someone would be overjoyed at being acknowledged and recognised enough to have been given such a high position, but you aren’t.

instead, you’re silently fuming, just barely keeping your temper in check as you plaster a fake smile on your face. your eye twitches as you hear a low chuckle from-

“the head boy, yang jungwon!” the headmaster announces. cheers erupt from around the room, all clapping for their new heads.

“i can feel the waves of anger practically radiating off of you,” he murmured quietly.

yang jungwon.

the boy you despised so much.

listen, you don’t really hate anyone, but you’re pretty sure that what you feel towards the boy you called ‘yang’ is close enough.

in all your six years at hogwarts, you two have constantly been at each other’s throats. arguments often broke out between you in corridors; fights wherein one would end up stupefied or thrown against the wall; even little sabotages against each other that were subtle enough that teachers could pass off as an accident or your own fault rather than the other’s.

for example, back in third year, yang had tripped you on your way into the great hall after everyone got off the hogwarts express. you had flashed everyone behind you and scraped your knee when you landed on the ground.

although no one saw him do it, you immediately knew who the culprit was, especially when he smirked down at you over his shoulder as he walked ahead. oh how badly you wanted to slap that smile off his face in the moment.

you retaliated the next week by mixing his white laundry with red clothes, so he was forced to attend his classes with pink uniform until he got new shirts. nothing satisfied you more than the glares he sent your way throughout the first day of his pink week, you could feel him boring holes into the back of your head even when you weren’t looking.

making your way back to the slytherin table, you thought back to when you got that fateful letter a few weeks back.

you slid the window open after spotting an owl from afar flying towards your house.

the bird flew in gracefully, and dropped your letter from hogwarts on the kitchen island counter, accepting the treats offered from your hand.

“y/n, please. close the window, would you? it’s so windy outside - it’s blowing away my papers!” your mother scolded from her seat at the table.

“sorry, my bad! i just got my grades.”

“ah really? let’s see it then.”

you scanned the letter, satisfied to see an O on all your subjects. although they weren’t your final NEWTS grades, they were an indication of how you did throughout sixth year according to teachers’ assessments.

you’d been nervous at seeing anything below an O, but your friends had told you not to worry all summer.

“you’ve never dropped from the top rank in our year ever since first year, why would you now?”

“hiyyih, it’s only because of how much i’ve studied, but what if the expectations this year are higher? what if it’s not enough? what if i spent too many free periods sitting with you guys by the lake instead of-“

“be for real, you only did that twice! you’re the only person who’s actually spent their free periods studying,” rei said.

“well that’s what they’re supposed to be used for!”

“who actually does that! besides you, of course.”

“rei’s right, even yang jungwon often spends his frees with his friends.”

“that’s why he’s number 2,” you roll your eyes. “maybe if he studied during his frees, he’d finally get that number 1 spot he's been telling me he'd get for years.”

“it’s the fact he doesn’t have to study as hard to easily get second top student in our year. besides, weren’t you just worrying about not being first this time ‘round?”

that set you off into another episode of wailing and worrying about your results.

reading the letter, your eyes zeroed in on a shiny gold badge attached to the bottom.

dear kim y/n, we are pleased to inform you that you have been chosen as head girl for this upcoming academic year. you will be working alongside the head boy, yang jungwon, and all prefects across the four houses. you and the head boy’s duties will be relayed to you after the sorting ceremony. congratulations once again, you are well deserving of the title. sincerely, headmaster bang si hyuk

you still remember your mother questioning you after watching your figure suddenly go from jumping around the kitchen all giddy, to sulkily dragging your feet to the table.

of course, you were honoured to be picked, but did they really have to choose your enemy as your partner? i mean, the whole school knows about your rivalry, and you guys have been told off countless times by teachers! so was this really a smart idea?

when the ceremony ended, one of the professors led you and yang to the head dormitories.

(a “benefit” of being one of the heads was getting your own room, separate from your own house dorms. but you’d still be sharing the common room with yang, so that wasn’t exactly the biggest plus in your books.)

“as you can see, you will have separate private rooms, each with their own bathroom,” the professor pointed at the doors on opposite sides of the common room.

“but you two will share this living space. there’s a little library in the corner as well.

“now for rules..." he started listing a bunch of obvious rules - like what's allowed in the head dorms and what isn't, when you can bring your friends, etc.

“and last but not least, you aren’t allowed in each other’s private quarters,” he paused before glancing at both students. “although, i don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

he’s right there, you thought bitterly.

the idea of even sharing the common room with the boy irked you, let alone entering his own room. you could only imagine all the stupid tricks he was planning on you right now - but you were doing the same.

after the whole ordeal, the professor finally left you two alone, but not before telling you that you should start planning out the prefects’ patrolling schedules so that you could meet up with them as soon as possible.

you and yang stared at each other for a moment, apprehension hanging in the air. this is the first time you two have directly looked each other in the eye tonight.

“so… i guess we should get to sorting out those schedules,” he breaks the silence, gesturing to the scroll of names in your hands, which the professor had left with you.

nodding, you followed him to the large table in the middle of the room, where you’d hold a meeting with the prefects tomorrow morning.

“here’s the list of all the prefects, plus their student ID numbers.”

“okay, we can use those to add them all into a group chat on hog-messages and inform them of the meeting tomorrow.”

one of the newer developments at hogwarts in recent years was the addition of electronic tablets given to every student, so they’d be able to communicate faster with each other. it had an app programmed within it called ‘hog-messages’ where students could message each other or their teachers, and create group chats, all activity being monitored by staff.

the tablets also allowed the students to be able to write notes down on it, but most teachers often preferred all homework to be written on paper scrolls anyway.

all this was provided by yang enterprises.

yup. yang was the son of the wizard who introduced muggle electronic devices into the wizarding world, instantly boosting their family into riches and success.

the world was given to him on a silver platter, so he’s always had it easy. and unfortunately for you, the boy not only grew up snobby and privileged, but was smart too.

coming from the muggle world, you entered the wizarding world with an open mind. despite this, you hated the ravenclaw almost as soon as you met him.

his ego was high up through the roof way before he’d even been placed in the house, and he emanated a strong intimidating aura. as soon as yang saw you on that hogwarts train, he turned his nose up at you like you were dirt before you’d even spoken a word to each other.

nonetheless, you managed to work out a schedule together smoothly. but the lack of clashing heads for once put you on edge, you felt like something was just wrong.

“alright, i’ve sent a message to the group,” he said, staring at his screen.

“okay…” you trailed off, unsure what to say. “um, let’s be civil this year, yang,” you say instead, putting a hand out.

the boy looked up at you, before glancing down at your hand then laughed in disbelief. as if you had said you were going to run 100 laps around the castle.

“duh, i knew that when i got the letter. that doesn’t need to be said. are you an idiot?”

now it was you who stared at him in disbelief. there’s the yang you know.

lowering your hand, you scoffed and stormed into your room, which was luckily closer so you didn't have to spend another second looking at his pretty face.

you should have known nothing would ever change. you can’t believe you almost thought that yang had changed. of course he’d never grow up, maybe he was just made this way.

on the other hand, the return of his ugly personality brought you some comfort. it was just something you were more familiar with. you weren’t used to the driven and focused attitude he had on earlier when sorting out the schedule, and you’d prefer to keep it that way.

unpacking your bags and showering before changing into pajamas, you set an alarm for 6:30am, so you’d have time for the meeting at 7:30 and can end it before classes began at 8. you went to bed feeling prepared for tomorrow.

the next morning however, you woke up late.

the sunlight seeped in through the curtains, and after a moment, you checked your phone for the time.

8:34am

crap.

you practically jumped out of bed and began to frantically get ready, pulling on the first shirt and skirt you could grab from your closet.

why hadn’t your alarm woken you up? you set the alarm two hours earlier. had you accidentally typed 630 into the calculator app instead from a tiring day?

however, when you check your alarm clock, you saw that it had been turned off. although, you clearly remember pressing save and checking that it was on before tucking yourself into bed.

you pause as you brush your hair, your thoughts coming to a stop.

it was yang, you realised.

is this his idea of civil? you wonder what he's on as you slip on your uniform in panic.

quickly brushing your teeth, you put on your tie as you ran out the room, a chill hits you when you remembered the prefects’ meeting you were supposed to have this morning.

oh my god, they probably think i'm an irresponsible head girl. there’s no doubt the bad impression being late on your first day as head girl would leave on not only the students, but the teachers as well.

will they revoke your position? will they give the badge to another, more responsible girl? who preferably doesn’t have beef with the head boy?

you cringed at the thought you might be punished because of something entirely yang’s fault, and he’d get away with it. as he always does.

you ran down the moving stairs, almost slipping off the edge when it suddenly changed paths, towards your first class as you cursed out the head boy in your mind.

but soon enough, nervousness took over as you neared the classroom.

there was only about 15 minutes left of the period, so was it even worth it to go? and besides, yang was in this class too. you’d hate to see the gloating smirk on his face when you enter and get scolded by the professor.

before you could decide however, the door opened, revealing the very boy you’d been planning revenge on all morning.

yang didn’t look surprised to see you there, evident by the grin on his face.

he faked a shocked tone though, when he announced your presence to the professor (and the whole class).

it goes without saying that you definitely had a bad morning, being held back in class for another half hour to make up for what you missed that morning.

thankfully, you had a free period next, so you weren’t missing your next class this time.

although you hated yang jungwon with every fibre of your being, you weren’t a snitch. you wouldn’t dare expose him - mostly because it would be useless. who would really believe you, when you were already messing up so early in the year? and certainly not when it accused the school’s beloved heartthrob.

so you took your punishment on without a complaint, pointedly ignoring yang the rest of the day, who didn’t even try to hide his smile.

you sighed as you made notes on griffin claw substitutes, all alone in the potions classroom.

september and october rolled by; even though you and yang continued your little pranks and tricks on each other, you guys managed your head duties just fine. he did his work and never slacked, so you were satisfied.

you had gotten your revenge on yang by charming his wand to vibrate uncontrollably two days later. you remember barely being able to hold in your laugh as you watched him struggle to conjure a flock of birds, an explosion of feathers popping from the tip instead.

from what you heard, he also struggled in his other classes you didn’t share, which delighted you to no end.

“what are you skipping around all giddy about?” hiyyih asked you sceptically.

“just that yang seems to be struggling in herbology class, according to jang wonyoung.”

“what did you do?” rei eyed suspiciously.

“how could you accuse me of doing something?” you gasped.

“it’s pretty obvious - head boy and student #2 wouldn’t just struggle in a class he’s always done well in,” minji shrugged.

you rolled your eyes at your friends, but then smiled cheekily when you admitted how you’d snuck into his room that morning and cast a charm on his wand with a spell that would only stop after twenty-four hours.

“okay, that’s pretty funny. i’m gonna have to ask wony about it later,” rei laughed.

your phone buzzed, and upon checking it, you were surprised to see a text from the one and only yang jungwon.

Hog-Messages YANG JUNGWON (ID: 78395) professor kim wants to see us

“speak of the devil,” you tell your friends and show them your screen.

you watched as the three glanced at each other, equally surprised.

“wow, a text! from yang jungwon! and it’s not some evil curse or cryptic message!” hiyyih remarked, which you nodded to in agreement.

rei laughed. “you guys act like he’s incapable of simple communication; he’s just relaying a message.”

“sometimes rei, i think he is,” you joked.

YANG JUNGWON ID: 78395 professor kim wants to see us

KIM Y/N ID: 78384 when?

YANG JUNGWON ID: 78395 after classes today at his office

KIM Y/N ID: 78384 ofc it’s at his office, you think he’d want to meet us in the restrooms?

YANG JUNGWON ID: 78395 i hope u fall off your broom on the pitch also come un-charm my wand or something right now.

KIM Y/N ID: 78384 can’t 🤷‍♀️ sux 2 b u

"honestly, if i didn't know better, i'd think you two had a hate-love relationship," minji teased.

"ew, anything above dislike is something i will never feel for yang jungwon," you scrunched your nose in distaste. how could minji even think something like that?

"whatever," she snickered.

arriving in front of the professor’s office door, you opened it to find jungwon already inside and seated on one of the chairs opposite the teacher’s desk. you bowed in greeting before taking the other empty seat.

“so,” professor kim started. “we need to talk about your behaviour as the head students.”

you gulped. had you done something wrong? were those threats to revoke your position on the first day real?

looking over at your co-partner, his face was unreadable, as always. he looked perfectly calm, which infuriated you.

“as head boy and girl, you two are setting the standard for the rest of the school. you guys are supposed to be role models. but i’m sure you already know this.” professor kim paused and looked at both of you intently before continuing.

“so why is it i’m finding out that you two have not been doing your patrols together?”

oh. so that’s what this is about.

you and yang had completed one patrol session together on the first week of school, and it’s safe to say that it was… horrific. without going into too much detail, you guys had practically argued the whole two hours that night; although it was unlikely, if there were any couples making out or young students causing trouble, they probably heard you two from a mile away and hid before they were caught.

at the end of the night, you both agreed that you’d just swap your schedules and patrol with other prefects - possibly the only thing you two had ever agreed on.

“we weren’t aware that we had to patrol together,” you replied when the head boy was clearly not going to speak up first. what a pussy.

it was a lie; you guys obviously knew that head students were supposed to patrol together. having been prefects in previous years, you knew how things worked. it was why you had done the first patrol together after all.

but you figured that since it wasn’t a specifically given instruction, you didn’t actually have to do it together.

professor kim stared at you two incredulously for a moment, his expression somewhere between exasperation and disbelief. a pool of anxiousness swirled in your stomach at the way he sighed and pinched his nose bridge frustratedly.

“listen, i don’t know what si-hyuk was thinking when he had chosen you two as the heads, given your history and all. but he chose you. so please show that you’re worthy of the title - let go of your childish rivalry. otherwise, we may actually have to find new head students.”

“you could just let go of her, professor. i’d be able to work with any other girl,” yang finally spoke up. of course the first thing he'd say is an insult.

you gasped and glared at him.

“clearly, you’re the one who’s childish and immature here. maybe you should be the one to get replaced.”

“enough!” the teacher slammed his hands on the desk. “if you two keep this act up, we will not hesitate to replace you both.”

and so with that, you and yang left the office in uncomfortable silence. not a word was spoken between you until just before you parted ways.

“guess we’ll use the old schedule again,” he said. you nodded.

being the end of the day, you were both too tired to argue. the heavy workload that comes with NEWTS in addition to the responsibilities of your positions, you both left for your own common rooms without sparing another glance.

the dreaded patrol round came sooner than you would have liked, and you found yang waiting by the castle doors. you always seemed to be the later one, as if he’d placed a curse on you with that trick at the start of the year.

he kicked himself off the wall he’d been leaning against when he saw you, and began to walk without so much as a ‘hi’ or ‘let’s go’. you had to quickly jog to catch up to him.

the air between you two as you walked around was silent and tense, so thick that you could probably cut it with a knife.

surprisingly, yang was the first to break the silence.

“i was thinking - we should plan the first hogsmeade trip for this term.”

“mhm,” you hummed in agreement. “i think it’s best to have it after the quidditch match in november.”

“yeah, at the end of the month. and people would be able to go before the winter break.”

you fished your phone out from your pocket and opened the calendar app.

“when should we have it?"

yang leaned over your shoulder to look at your screen. “let’s have it on the twenty-seventh," he says, pointing at the date on the calendar. "it’d be good to have the week between the match and the trip free so we can prepare.”

you nodded as you listened, typing up a reminder to speak with the professors about it.

“hey!” the head boy suddenly shouted, causing you to jump. “what are you kids doing here?”

you looked up to find he had opened a classroom, in which three students in around 4th or 5th year were standing. they stared up at the pair of you with wide eyes, like a dear in headlights.

“what are you doing?” you asked, regaining your composure. looking at their ties, you realised they were in slytherin, like you.

the students glanced at each other worriedly and slowly backed away from the two of you. you noticed them hiding something behind them on the desk.

pointing your wand at the items behind them, you summoned it nonverbally, yelling ‘accio!’ in your mind. the items flew into your arms.

“you all better go back to your common room. it’s way past your curfew,” yang warned them. “20 points from slytherin.”

the group shuffled out of the room and quickly ran back to the dungeons.

“isn’t 20 too many?” you grumbled. maybe you were a little biased since they were in your house though.

ignoring you, yang sighed as he turned back to look at the contents in your hands.

“what is it?” he asked.

upon closer inspection, it seemed to be the plannings or blueprint of a large snake puppet that moved on its own, the quote ‘slytherin slays’ painted along its body.

you held back a giggle as you read the notes on how to make the snake glare and breathe flames out when faced with a ravenclaw. yang snorted as he read them as well.

“you slytherins are always so immature when it comes to quidditch matches.” you rolled your eyes and glared at him, imagining you were breathing flames like the puppet snake.

“at least we have a strong sense of support for our house. what’re you birdies doing? painting little flying banners that the players won’t be able to read on the pitch?”

“my team doesn’t need to read our house’s support. we’re good enough and know if.”

“sounds like there’s just no house spirit.”

“say that to me when your team loses,” he challenged.

“you’ll be waiting forever then,” you retorted.

“let’s place a bet. 20 galleons that ravenclaw wins.”

“fine! if we wins, i want you to pay my monthly subscription in an online game for a year."

“what?”

“i need money," you huff, crossing your arms indignantly.

“you need muggle money.”

“well, yes. but i mean, you can convert your wizarding money into muggle money, then pay for my monthly subscription in a game so i get game money.”

“that sounds useless; for a kids’ game? and you called me the childish one?” he raised a questioning eyebrow.

“i wouldn’t need to find peace in an online game if you didn’t bother me all the time, you know," you complain. "you’re like a piece of gum i can’t get off my shoe.”

“you could just cast a spell to get the gum off,” he shrugged.

“you’re right, i’ll just cast a spell on you!” you smile brightly. “stupe-“

“oh my god, okay! i’ll pay for your stupid game - if slytherin wins, which you won’t.”

you smiled to yourself, a skip in your step for the rest of the patrol.

soon, the day of the match arrived; ravenclaw against slytherin (because of course it was).

the morning of the match was lively as usual, everyone split between green and blue.

you watched the large snake float above everyone’s heads in the great hall, breathing (harmless) flames into every ravenclaw’s face.

just at that moment, you bumped into the trio of students who’d been planning the little surprise. you sent them a discreet smile.

“20 points to slytherin,” you awarded for the clever trick, but also to make up for the twenty that yang had taken.

suddenly, you screech when a flock of small origami birds flew and pecked at your hair, ruining the braid you’d put your hair in for the match.

looking up, you noticed the small paper birds flying about the hall, pecking at every slytherin-supporter. this was definitely ravenclaw’s idea; no doubt yang had gotten inspiration from the those students you two had caught.

“you good, kim?” a familiar voice greets you. you turn to see the devil himself smirking at you, pleased with the mess you are.

“i was, until you got here.”

“maybe it’s a sign that you’ll lose today.”

“maybe it’s a sign you should shut up.”

the match started without a hitch.

you scored the first 10 points of the match within 6 minutes, and by the first half hour, slytherin was ahead by 30 points.

you enjoyed the thrill of being a chaser, trying different ways to get the quarrel past the keeper. in fact, you enjoyed flying in general, and being on the pitch.

that is until, you started getting pestered by the other team’s seeker.

you noticed yang seemed to be flying around you after a few laps, and sent him a questioning look.

“what are you doing, yang?”

“looking for the snitch, it’s my job.”

“well, i’m not the snitch. so keep looking!”

“well i’m certainly looking at a similar word.”

it took time to process what he meant, but when you realised, you glared at the boy.

“focus on the game- if you keep your eyes on me, you’ll be paying for my subscription soon!”

yang scoffed and looked away, searching the pitch for the snitch, sending you a glare before zooming away.

the game ended in slytherin’s favour, your team’s seeker barely clutching the golden ball in his hands before the head boy could reach it.

cheers roared across the stadium when it ended with your team’s success, students running onto the pitch in excitement to congratulate you and the other players.

“seriously, the way you threw the quaffle into the hoop while gliding through the air - it was so smooth!” minji gushed as rei nodded in agreement.

“let’s go, there’s going to be a congratulatory party in the common room!” rei says, taking your hand to drag you.

“can i come?” asked hiyyih excitedly, who was a gryffindor.

“duh!”

you laughed as you followed your three best friends, when you caught sight of a certain person in the corner of your eye.

“wait, i have to do something real quick,” you pause to tell the girls. they stopped as well and looked at you curiously.

“what is it?”

“wait for me. i just need to talk to yang - head stuff,” you tell them off-handedly, before running off to the ravenclaw team.

“it’s definitely not about ‘head stuff’,” hiyyih nudges rei, who nods as they watch you leave.

you make your way to the losing ravenclaw team, even congratulating some of them on a good game.

when you reach your target, you tap on his shoulder to get his attention, before smiling triumphantly up at him (wow, you never realised how much taller he was than you until now).

“what is it, kim?” he drawled with an eye-roll.

“the bet. i won.” you gloated, the smile never leaving your face, widening instead when he wore a look of disbelief.

“oh, right.” he sighed before scratching the back of his head, looking around thoughtfully. “let’s sort it out tomorrow, at patrol.”

“okay! don’t back down from your end of the bet.”

“i may hate you, but i’m not a sore loser. see you tomorrow night, kim.”

“with my monthly subscription payment!” you say, waving tauntingly as you ran back to your friends.

“what did you need to talk to him about?” minji asked, putting her hand out to hold yours as you four made your way to the slytherin dungeons.

“we’re making monthly plans to help a student who needs it,” you say smugly.

“sounds like you’re twisting the truth,” rei laughed.

“but it is the truth!” you protested.

you found yourself happily scrolling through the game's catalog, looking to spend your newly-bought robux.

ever since your deal on the match, you found yourself slowly warming up to yang.

well, not to the point you’d consider each other friends, but you acknowledge each other in passing with a nod or quick wave instead of pointedly looking the other way like usual.

you also argued less, much to the relief of the entire school. however, they were still apprehensive, waiting for something to blow up eventually. it was simply too suspiciously calm and quiet without your voices yelling down the hall or in the corner of a classroom.

as the weeks went on, you two learned to get along better and better everyday, even willingly becoming partners in potions once.

sometimes, you would walk to the great hall together for lunch or dinner after a meeting. you even spent your free periods with yang, which you told your friends was because ‘they didn’t have any frees with you’ so you ‘might as well spend it productively’ with the head boy who coincidentally shared the same free periods schedule.

you did lots of stuff together, as expected of the head girl and head boy.

yet, you always avoided studying together.

others might think it’s because of your rivalry; how one might copy off the other’s or something.

sure, you laugh to yourself. let people think what they want.

but the idea of studying with yang again brings back memories of fifth year.

you didn’t tell anyone about it, not even your own friends.

at the end of the year, you’d been practically glued to the library for two months, studying for your OWLs.

“mind if i sit here?”

you turn up to see a familiar face.

“yang?”

“there’s no other free space in the library,” he rolled his eyes, making up an excuse.

looking around, you realised he was right. the only other free spots were next to students that were notoriously weirdos who everyone avoided. maybe he doesn’t want them to copy off his work, you think to yourself.

“um, okay,” you agreed hesitantly while sucking on a sugar quill, moving some of your books to make space for him. those sweets often helped you focus.

yang pulled the seat out and sat down, before beginning to study himself.

you tried to continue as you were, but had lost focus. not even the green apple-flavoured sweet in your mouth could help you concentrate.

you were hyper aware of his presence - the way he hunched over the table with his hair falling over his face. you watched him from the corner of your eye.

why had he chosen to sit with you? were there seriously no better places to go? what about his room? the astronomy tower? the little corner window by the potions classroom downstairs?

“relax. i can feel how tense you are from here.”

“does your oh-so-precious pure-wizard blood give you the ability to sense emotions like a dog?” you scoffed. he looked up sharply and gave you a serious look.

“i just want to revise for my OWLs; let’s keep our disputes outside the library, where we won’t get hexed by madame park over there.”

you rolled your eyes and kept your head down, going back to your own business.

over the course of the month, a routine slowly began wherein you would often study together in the library.

sometimes it was you joining him instead, and you would just wordlessly take the seat opposite him. even when there were other spaces to sit, you two always chose to sit together in the corner table, hidden from the rest of the school.

a word was never spoken between the two top students. and you never told your friends about the little arrangement either.

his presence quickly became something of a comfort for you - it was easier to focus on your studies when he was there. and if you ever needed help with something, he’d give you a few pointers when you finally begrudgingly asked.

he never asked you for help though, which always reminded you why he was number 2. it infuriated you how you had to work twice as hard than him just to barely surpass the boy.

whenever you heard people talking of him in passing, he was always nicknamed ‘the prodigy boy’. what were you called? ‘the girl that was good for a muggle-born’.

he was your rival, but you weren’t his. and he’s made that clear since the day you met.

and yet, despite all the resentment you held for him, you enjoyed his company. OWLs were stressing the life out of everyone, but it felt like you could get through it with him sitting across you.

maybe it’s because he motivated you to keep working harder, to try more so you could widen the gap between your ranks. seeing him everyday reminded you of why you tried so hard. maybe you wanted to show him (and everyone else) that being muggle-born doesn’t mean you’re any less than those born in this world.

at least that’s what you told yourself.

but it doesn’t explain why you began to glance at his lips every time he sat across you.

it doesn’t explain why butterflies began to flutter in your stomach when you felt the warmth of his body close to yours as he’d lean over your shoulder and point at the book when you asked for help. or why you felt giddy when you’d play with each other’s feet under the table.

until one day, he’d dropped his smart-quill on the floor, and you were quicker to kneel down from your seat to get it.

“here,” you said, handing him the quill, still on your knees on the floor.

as you faced him, you realised the close proximity only then.

you stared into his eyes that pulled you in, keeping you locked and unable to escape from his gaze. he stared right back, the quill forgotten in your hand, which now lay on his left knee.

you didn’t even realise the way he slowly leaned down until he cupped your cheek.

his touch was soft; you leaned into it.

“is this okay?” you could barely hear him whisper over the rapid beating of your heart. all you could do was nod.

your eyes fluttered shut as your lips finally connected. a mix of pretty emotions burst in your stomach, filling you with a giddiness you never knew before.

it might have been just a few seconds, or it could have been hours - you didn’t know. that first kiss was everything you ever imagined it to be.

you pulled away first, finally running out of air. but he chased after your lips, kissing you again.

the memory of your first kiss will forever be cemented in your memory. you were just two 16 year olds, softly holding onto each other in the corner of a library, hidden from the rest of the world.

you scrunch your nose at the bittersweet memory. who would’ve thought your first kiss would be with the person you hate the most in this world.

when you returned to school for sixth year that september, yang acted like nothing happened between you two.

he ignored you for the first month of school, not even bothering to taunt you like he used to. everyone had been stumped, including you, but he eventually went back to his usual tactics, albeit with a noticeable lack of ‘stupid muggleborn who can never be on our level’ comments. soon you two were back to your regular bickering as if he didn’t ignore your existence for the first month of school.

as if you hadn’t shared a kiss just three months before.

now, your developing friendship scared you. you didn’t want a repeat of last time; his actions had really hurt you back then.

you remember all the nights you spent in the library, waiting. waiting for him to come, to explain why he was acting like that. waiting for something.

thoughts ran through your mind, trying to reason why he might do this. maybe he realised he didn't feel for you the way you felt for him. maybe he went back to his room that night and wiped all the muggle germs off his face. maybe he realised he was too good for you.

you remember all the times you cried yourself to sleep, eyes puffy for weeks that even your teachers asked if you were okay. if maybe you’d eaten something bad or been cursed. that maybe you should go to the infirmary to fix it.

hiyyih, rei, and minji had no idea how to help you, because you refused to tell them what was wrong.

and you never did. it’s simply too embarrassing. explaining that you kissed your number one enemy and then he ignored you for month and acted like nothing happened between you two was humiliating. you knew your friends wouldn’t, but surely if other students found out, they’d laugh at you.

yang probably laughed with his friends about it. you were just waiting, dreading to hear the rumours of how you’re a bad kisser and how no one should ever want your muggle-born, good-for-nothing ass.

every time you walked past him and his friends, you’d walk faster and look everywhere but their direction. you imagined their snickers and smirks as they watched you run by like a pathetic loser.

the rumours never came however.

no one ever looked at you weirdly, or laughed at you. you ended sixth year with a big sigh of relief, releasing a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding the whole year.

now, you found yourself standing next to the very boy who you had spent the end of your 5th year with, walking a big group of students towards hogsmeade.

you sigh as you think about your astronomy test on monday, which you’d rather spend the weekend studying for.

unfortunately, as the heads, it’s you and yang’s duty to chaperone the students on their trip to the village.

you sigh and pull on your strap, hiking your heavy bag higher up your back. you think of the long day ahead, studying in the corner of one of the quieter cafés, freezing your toes off. it’s not preferable, but it’ll have to do.

yang watches you, eyeing your heavy bag of books.

“what the hell? don’t tell me you’re spending this trip studying.”

“alright, i won’t,” you roll your eyes at him as you two trudge behind the large crowd of students. it was 9 in the morning, and you were too tired to reply.

“wouldn’t you rather spend your time with your friends? you somehow have those,” he teased.

“well yeah,” you huff, a little irritated at his care-free attitude. “but not everyone can pass an astronomy test without needing to study like you. some of us actually have to work our butts off for good grades.”

yang stopped in his tracks, causing you to follow and look back at him questioningly.

to your surprise, he wore a serious expression, glaring forward and refusing to look at you. you must’ve struck a nerve.

“stop acting like you’re the only one in the world that has to fucking work hard,” he fumed. you’ve never seen him this mad, even in all your arguments throughout the years.

“you’re always going on about how much you have to study this, how you need to work harder than me that - blah blah blah.

“why do you always feel the need to undermine my work? always downplaying my accomplishments to ‘mere talent’. what about the tens of hundreds of hours i’ve poured into my own studies? the hours i’ve spent sat by a tutor since i was 6?”

surprised by his outburst in combination with your own irritation and jealousy, you couldn’t help but retort.

“are you serious right now? do you have to make everything about yourself?”

“oh because the world revolves around you? you are so fucking entitled!”

“me? entitled?” you laugh in disbelief. “you’re talking about how i undermine and downplay your work, when you’ve always been the one to yell out to the whole world how i’m a ‘stupid, pathetic muggleborn who’s lacking and can never fit in this world’!” students were beginning to notice your argument and were looking behind as they walked at you two now.

“so that’s what this is about? some shit i said two years ago?” he scoffed.

“some shit you threw at me for 5 years!” you throw your hands up in frustration.

“well maybe you’re proving me right with all your talk about just how much you need to study because you’ll 'never have it as easy as us'!” he yelled right back, mocking you. “you don’t know a thing about me.”

you stared at him, panting heavily. everyone’s attention was now on you two, people watching instead of walking.

“kim y/n! yang jungwon!” you hear the booming voice of professor kim shout over the crowd.

he stormed to you two, face red and veins popping out his neck.

“this behaviour is incredibly inappropriate of role model students! you two are supposed to be guiding the students towards the village, is that such a difficult task?” he scolded you and yang in exasperation.

“could you at least keep your feud behind closed doors? it’s incredibly selfish to ruin everyone’s day with your constant fights!”

you looked down ashamedly as your friends took this as their sign to finally drag you from your spot. jungwon’s friend, nishimura riki from 5th year copied their actions.

professor kim looked at the crowd which had now completely stopped to watch the show.

“keep moving kids!” he sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

“park gunwook,” he called. the gryffindor jogged towards the teacher. “pham hanni.” the hufflepuff followed. “you two will take over the role of chaperoning the students, since our head students are clearly unsuitable for the job,” he instructed, throwing you a dirty look.

the two 6th year prefects nodded and began to walk behind everyone, feeling a little awkward at being put on the spot.

you glared at yang one more time, but was met with a different expression instead.

yang met your stare with concern written on his face, as his tall friend dragged him away. it confused you; just a moment ago, he’d been furious with you, and now he looked worried? what was he worried about? what’s with the switch up?

you couldn’t ponder on it any longer, what with your own friends shuffling you away from the crime scene.

the rest of the day was spent tucked away in a little corner of a small café you found, one people didn’t go to as much.

the girls had tried to convince you to join them on their fun, but let you go when you told them you had star charts to memorise for your upcoming test. they seemed hesitant, but after witnessing your recent fight with the head boy, they reluctantly allowed you to go off on your own with promises of saving you a butterbeer.

you busied yourself with your books, not wanting to think about the weird events this morning. from your first disagreement in a while, to yang’s mood swing - it was better to spend your thoughts on what was more important.

eventually, you woke up in the late afternoon, only realising then that you had fallen asleep. the rays of light from the sunset seeped through the window, waking you up with its blinding brightness.

how long had you fallen asleep? you could have been revising in the time you dozed off. astronomy was your weakest subject, so you really needed that precious time.

you groan in frustration, sighing as you sit up to straighten your back. but something falls off your shoulders as you do.

you look behind you and realise it was a jacket, which had been left on your shoulders by someone. but who?

bewildered, you pick up the jacket (which had an oddly familiar scent to it) and turn back to your table of books. but before you can return to your studies, something catches your eye.

there, on top of a pile of textbooks, lay a green sugarquill.

had my friends stopped by while i slept?

it didn’t particularly make sense though, since you agreed to meet up with them later tonight when you headed back to the castle.

you picked it up, then noticed the note it had been sitting on.

sorry, i shouldn’t have said any of that earlier. found you sleeping, don’t beat yourself up. you can do this. i remember sugarquills help you focus, right? don’t worry, it’s not poisoned or anything… goodluck on monday.

your heart squeezed painfully. his short message spoke volumes.

yang jungwon wasn’t one to apologise, seeing as he either never felt bad, or never really did anything wrong (in the eyes of everyone else).

you felt guilty too, seeing as it was your fault as well. you made a mental note to apologise to him in person later.

secondly, this was the first time he ever acknowledged the time you spent together in 5th year. it surprised you, because at this point you wondered if he had forgotten about it, or if it was all some sick dream you had.

heat rushed to your face and you had to put considerable effort into keeping your composure and not kick your feet and screaming right then and there. somehow, he’d remembered such a small detail about the sweet he left for you.

maybe the whole 5th year incident affected him more than he let on. maybe there really was something that happened between you guys.

or maybe you’re just being hopeful again.

one thing you’re sure about though, is that yang jungwon is most certainly crazy.

“welcome back everyone!” you greeted.

it’s the first prefect meeting of the term, everyone who left for the winter break having just returned two days prior.

“we have quite a bit to discuss today,” you started, before looking at jungwon to continue.

“let’s start with the more interesting news first.” he paused, looking at everyone before going on.

“me and the head girl have been planning something this winter, and with the approval of the headmaster, we can finally reveal it to you: the spring ball.”

you watched proudly as the prefects began whispering amongst themselves excitedly. you were so hyped up to be able to plan and make the event come to life.

“we wanted to give the students something more exciting to look forward to. you know- before OWLs and NEWTs completely take over our lives,” you joke, pulling chuckles out of everyone in the room.

“the idea is a formal, floral-themed event that’ll take place in the great hall. it’s only for 5th years and up, but younger years may attend if invited as a date.”

“since you guys are prefects, we’re asking for your help setting up the event. let’s talk ideas for decoration,” you say, pulling out your tablet to take notes.

as you wrote down the prefects’ thoughts and input, you were already drafting a schedule in your mind for preparations. that was until, you felt someone lean over your shoulder.

forcing yourself to keep writing, you tried to ignore the way your shoulder brushed against yang’s chest. one hand holding onto the backrest of your chair whilst the other lay on the table, next to your arm as you wrote on autopilot, your mind circuiting at the proximity. straightening your back in an attempt to compose yourself, you only push yourself against the boy more.

you were sure your face was as red as a tomato. your heart was beating so hard you were scared jungwon could hear it.

judging by the way he huffed in amusement, he probably realised the effect he had on you.

“focus, kim,” he whispered so only you could hear, leaning lower to your level. you could imagine the smirk on his face.

“i am,” you tried to say with as much nonchalance as you could.

honestly, the moment was really reminding you of all those times he’d helped in the library. deja vu was really hitting you hard right now.

the rest of the meeting went smoothly - at least, as smooth as it could be with yang constantly flustering you as he subtly kept grazing your skin.

now that you think about it, jungwon’s been acting strange lately. more… bold? that’s the best way you could explain it.

you don’t know how it happened, but ever since the hogsmeade trip, you two got closer. after you apologised to him, the incident in question was never spoken of again, never referred to. but it’s clear something shifted in your relationship with the head boy.

gradually, he began to fill up your everyday life, seeing him more often in the day than you used to.

in the mornings, you’d bump into each other in the common room after getting ready, and go down to the great hall for breakfast together. or, if one of you seemed to be running late after breakfast, you’d make sure to save some food and leave it in the common room for the other.

in the day, you two shared free periods, and so spent it lounging in the common room, simply doing work at the coffee table or reading a book on the couch. music would play in the background as you two sat in comfortable silence, basking in each other’s company.

in the evenings, you might come back from a late class to find him napping on the couch. so you’d shake him awake with a “jungwon, let’s go get dinner.”

you could be studying in the library corner of your shared living space, and he’d always remind you to eat. even when it was past any meal time, he’d drag you off the chair for a trip to the kitchens, where he’d get a house elf to make you two a snack. he often asked for eclairs, noticing it was your favourite.

but yang jungwon didn’t just take up your daily activities, he was always on your mind too.

thoughts of how he wouldn’t like the cold dim lights of the slytherin common room, or seeing students that he’s told you he isn’t particularly fond of floated in your mind when you visited your friends.

you even found yourself comparing him to characters in whatever series you absorbed yourself in. you seriously couldn’t stop thinking about him.

the fights stopped completely, but you two continued your flirting friendly banter all the time.

once, you managed to find time in your busy schedule to sit down and watch barbie movies. jungwon (when did you even start calling him that?) had walked in to the common room to find his bag which he had left there, only to see you huddled up in a blanket while watching barbie as the island princess magically projected onto the wall.

“what’s this?” he’d asked.

“muggle movies from my childhood. this girl here grew up on the island when one day, she was found by a prince who was intrigued by her, and brought her back to the city, where she finally learns who she really is,” you explained while keeping your eyes trained on the projection.

“and who is she really?”

“why don’t you sit down and watch, kitty?” you’d always called him by that nickname during your petty fights, since his face reminded you of a cute cat. now though, it became more of an endearing nickname for the boy.

“i have to write 10 inches on the use of the lumos solem spell by tuesday.”

“that’s 5 days away! come on, don’t you wanna know? it’s really good, i promise. we can watch from the start, and i’ll help you with that charms essay, since professor song assigned it to us to, and i already got started on it,” you asked, twisting to face him with the best pleading look you could muster.

“fine, but only because you begged," he relented with a playful smile.

so that’s how you ended up binging barbie movies into the wee hours of the morning, sharing a blanket with your proclaimed enemy on the sofa.

“you honestly look more like serafina,” you tease him.

“what? but she’s a girl! wouldn’t wolfie be a better fit?”

“but serafina has more cat-like eyes! you guys have similar eyes.”

“are you serious right now? they’re both cats!” he gestures to the movie, paused at the last scene.

“but you really look like her!” you insist, using both hands to point at each corner of his eyes, shifting closer to him. “they’re upturned.”

“didn’t realise you knew that about me, babe.” he wrapped his own hands around your wrists, as they hovered above his face. “if i’m serafina, you must be wolfie.”

“why? because we’re partners in crime?” you snorted at his suggestion. “they get married at the end and have a bunch of little kitties too. you want that?”

“if that’s what you’d like,” he shrugged, his lips pulling into a downwards smile.

you stared at him incredulously, heartbeat suddenly pounding as you looked into the growing smug look on his face. his eyes that managed to shine even in the dark never failed to root you on the spot, unable to look away.

what were you feeling? you've looked at jungwon so many times over the past 5 years, but the boy's gaze never made you feel like this way before. like you were floating on air; like you could do anything with him by your side, looking at you like that.

in fact, thinking back to all your years of knowing him, it's funny how much things have changed in the past several months.

you actually giggle a bit, sitting back, further from his warmth. you immediately miss the soft touch of his fingers around your wrists.

"what are you laughing about?" he asks, but he's laughing too.

"you. me; us."

"are we comedians now or something?"

"no, but we're definitely clowns of the circus." jungwon grinned at your statement, an amused huff escaping his lips.

"penny for your thoughts?"

"i was just thinking... how did we go from having wars in the middle of DADA in 3rd year, to watching muggle barbie movies at 2am on a saturday?" you think out loud.

"when you put it like that... we do sound like the comedy act of a show," he admits, scratching the back of his neck.

"at least i do."

"what do you mean?" you ask, shifting your position on the couch to sit up. you move your cold feet so they rest between jungwon's ankles, soaking in their warmth.

"our little feud - you know, the fights, the hexes, all that. it was all because of me."

"what? no it wasn't - i instigated a lot of them too," you say, trying to reassure him. was he feeling guilty and blaming himself?

"but, it was! honestly, if it wasn't for my stupid shallow thinking, we might've been friends way earlier." you looked at him patiently, nodding for him to continue.

"i used to think that muggle-borns were stupid and would fall behind in everything - school, work, just because you had no idea of how our world worked. honestly, i pitied and felt sorry for you guys, because i thought you could never be on our level. i know now how ignorant i was, obviously," he scoffed at himself.

"so when i met you, i thought you were an idiot. you are, don't get me wrong-" he teased you, causing you to roll your eyes, although smiling lightly. "but even though you're muggle-born, you always managed to do better than me.

"you were constantly the best student in our year- no, our school. you were faster at understanding concepts than i was, immediately getting things right on the first try. hell, even when i would go flying on the pitch to relieve my stress and then got recruited into the ravenclaw team in third year, i finally thought i was better than you at something. and then you joined your team in 4th, and was called the 'ace' of slytherin. what a blow all of that to was to my ego."

"i joined the team to annoy you," you shyly admit. "but why did you even think that in the first place?" you asked, not angry. you wanted to hear him out and finally get answers to questions you've asked yourself for so many years. you wanted to understand, and know the boy in front of you.

"well, you know that my father's company is successful. so growing up, i was given the best. my parents hired the best tutors for me, so i'd be ahead of everyone else when i started hogwarts. my teachers said i was their best student, my parents showed me off to their friends as their 'pride and joy' or something dumb like that. other parents compared their kids to me, i was that kid.

"i knew i was privileged though - that i had money and could afford to have this good education. so i made the best of it and constantly told myself that others would be lucky to have my life, so i wanted to prove i was worthy of it by working hard and pushing myself all my life.

"but with that, i developed the mindset that people who don't have money like i do can't have as much knowledge as me since they don't have access to it - and that included muggle-borns. you had zero knowledge of this world, which works incredibly different to yours. we have different moral compasses; notions of common sense; understanding of how things worked.

"so imagine how surprised i was to find that you were doing better than me in school. me, who had sat beside a tutor since i was 6, who was learning OWL content at 12. all this only for a girl who didn't even know magic existed until a month before to top me in school.

"that's why i was always angry; i was angry with my tutors for not teaching me better; at you for being better. but most especially at myself. for deluding myself into thinking that way." you two were silent for a moment.

"what changed?" you asked.

jungwon breathed in, preparing himself.

"5th year. i was finally learning to respect you, so when i walked into the library that was full of students, you seemed like the best option to sit next to."

"really? still hadn't gotten over that 'i'm better than everyone blah blah blah' attitude?" you asked, smugly tilting your head to the side.

"shush," he hid his face. "but... i got to learn how hard you really worked back then. i used to think you just had some gift for learning. but watching you with your head down for hours, i felt like i was discrediting all that with something like 'innate talent'.

"i went back home that summer confused and having a mid-life crisis at 16. my dad talked to me though, knocked some sense into me.

"he said that just because muggles don't know magic, doesn't mean they can't do anything. i mean, the whole idea of smart devices that our company is literally known for was taken from muggles! without you guys, we wouldn't have that in our world either. you created it, we just used magic to expand it.

"i was pretty shaken up after that, and was in a daze when 6th year started. it took me a while to sort my thoughts out and gather myself."

it was silent for a while, now nearing 3am.

jungwon just spilled out his guts to you, in the dim atmosphere of your common room. now you were the one collecting your thoughts.

"i'm sorry too."

"what? you never did anyth-"

"but i basically did the same thing as you. you studied for years and years, and i just always thought you were also naturally smart; that you never needed to study like i did because you already knew it all."

silence enveloped the two of you once again.

"...so i guess we're more similar than we thought, huh?" he smiled softly at you. you felt like you were floating again.

"i guess so."

jungwon unfolded his legs and opened his arms out as a gesture, which you gladly accepted and fell into his embrace.

"so, are we good now?" you asked.

"hmm, i still feel like you owe me something for all those years of endless anger and feeling like shit."

"you mean for enlightening you that we stupid muggles aren't so stupid?" you asked, face still buried in his chest, your voice muffled against his sweatshirt. "shouldn't you owe me? for teaching you a lesson?"

"but i want something," he pouted, pulling on your wrist.

"what is it? as long as its affordable."

"is going to the spring ball with me affordable?"

you turn your head to look up at him, who's looking down at you with shy eyes, waiting for your answer.

"i don't know... how much does it cost?" you play along. you already know your answer anyway.

"it'll cost you about..." he pulled out the calculator app on his phone, pretending to add up a total. "one kiss."

you laughed at him, finally pulling away from his arms.

"was that at the end of 5th year not enough?"

"no," he pouted, eyebrows knitted. so cute, you thought.

"alright then, but is it okay if i pay you that hefty price later at the ball?" jungwon sighed dramatically, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

"i guess... but the price might increase to 10."

"that's okay, i'll give you as many as you want, as long as the first one is special."

"i didn't know you were sentimental like that," he smirked at you, kissing your cheek. you shrugged nonchalantly, smiling at him.

"i didn't know you were so needy for kisses like that."

"touché," he laughed, dragging you in for another hug, cuddling you until you both fell asleep in each other's arms.

since that night, you and jungwon gradually learned to be comfortable each other. and with the ball preparations, there was lots of opportunities to do so.

you realised that - without the hostility between you two, it was much easier to find compromises when you disagreed on something. jungwon did things differently from you, but listened to your thoughts and offered his too.

as the weeks went on, you found yourself looking forward to meetings with him, missing his presence when he wasn’t with you.

something in the way he’d nudge you lightly when you were worried about something, wrap his arm around you and squeeze your shoulder, or simply smile at you brightly with those cat-like eyes of his - they were all comforting.

the change in atmosphere didn’t go unnoticed by your friends either.

"what was that??" rei interrogated you when jungwon pulled you aside for the nth time this week.

"oh, he just wanted to talk about putting up decor later," you answer nonchalantly, taking a bite out of your toast.

"he has the same conversation with you practically every day," minji rolled her eyes.

"yeah, and i'm more surprised that you don't come ranting to us about every interaction you two have," hiyyih agrees, eyeing you suspiciously.

"well, i just grew up and matured," you try to defend yourself.

"if growing up and maturing means developing a crush, then yeah. you sure did." rei pauses before continuing. "is there something you aren't telling us?"

technically, yes. you weren't telling them about the development between you and jungwon - at least not yet. but you didn't exactly have a crush on the boy, in the sense that it was a one-sided thing and you were too shy to confess. but you didn't really want to tell them what was going on between you two, because you didn't know yourself.

were you and jungwon friends(-ish)? yes. but were you dating? no, definitely not. there's no doubt though that your strange, blurry, undefined relationship will develop soon enough, and you'd rather wait until everything's clear before telling your friends.

"she's not saying anything - something is definitely up!" hiyyih gasped excitedly, causing rei and minji to giggle, and you to shake your head.

you had noticed that jungwon seemed to always find reasons to talk to you, even if it's little things you've already discussed before, or silly simple questions like 'how's your day going?' or 'what barbie movie are we watching tonight?'

yeah, you two often found yourselves watching barbie movies late into a friday night.

you also ended up cuddling on the couch almost every evening after a long day of duties, particularly on patrol nights. after your rounds, you two would head back up to the head dormitories, where you'd flop onto the couch, and he'd jump onto you soon after.

the others would go crazy if they ever found out, you laugh to yourself.

the next day would be the night of the ball, so you were pretty wrapped up in helping out throughout the day.

"everything's set up," haerin, a 5th year gryffindor prefect told you.

"it looks really good," you tell her, looking at the great hall. it looked great now, and you were excited for how it would turn out in the dark of the night later.

"did you manage to complete the spell?" she asked curiously.

"i did, but i'm only 89.7% sure it'll work," you say, biting your lip. you hated not being completely sure about something, like an answer, or in this case - a self-made spell.

you turn when you hear a laugh behind you.

"i like how you have a specific percentage even when it comes to feelings," jungwon says through a grin. "your brain works weirdly"

"whatever, kitty," you roll your eyes light heartedly at him.

facing the great hall again, you take a deep breath as you cast the spell on the great hall, chanting the incantation as you wave your wand.

in a moment, the hall was filled with falling petals of different colours, though they didn't litter the ground messily, simply disappearing when they reached the ground. vines reached out from between the tiled floor, wrapping around table legs and growing bright vibrant flowers of their own. small orbs of light flickered throughout the ceiling, like fairies illuminating the scene.

"wow, it looks amazing, y/n!" one of the professors helping around praised.

"it really does," jungwon says, snaking his arm around your waist, his hand clinging onto your side snuggly.

"thank you," you mumble, as you both look up at the pretty scene in front of you.

soon, night falls and you're running down the staircase with your friends, holding up the ends of your dress to avoid stepping on it.

"careful y/n! or you might trip!" you hear hiyyih call out from behind you.

"she's just excited to see her prince charming," minji laughs, but the three of them are also running, holding up their own dresses.

the doors of the great hall open, revealing the breathtakingly decorated room, some guests already having arrived at the scene.

"wow, this is amazing..." rei gasped, enchanted by the way coloured lights perfectly illuminate the hanging wisteria flowers, and butterflies fluttering throughout the room.

"you seriously outdid yourself. how did you even do this?" hiyyih asked.

"only y/n could make a spell as complicated as this," jungwon's voice says, announcing his presence. "you look good, by the way," he adds when you look at him.

a quick one-over of his look tonight does not do him justice. so you find yourself staring unashamedly at his figure.

the way his waistcoat hugs his figure emphasises his broad shoulders, something you didn't even realise you found attractive until you saw it on him. a red tie lazily tucked into the waistcoat plus the rolled-up sleeves - it all made your mind go haywire.

"you would know, having been subjected to all the spells she's made over the years," hiyyih laughs at the memory.

"didn't know you spent so much time thinking about me, kim," he goaded.

"oh trust me, she def-" you cut rei off by covering her mouth with your gloved hand.

"thanks, jungwon," you say quickly, giving him a smile and pushing your friends away.

"he was flirting with you!" rei loudly whispers into your ear.

"and what do you want me to do about it!" you say, making sure your friends couldn't see the deep blush on your face.

"flirt back!" minji huffs out exasperatedly. "i'm sick and tired of whatever has been going on between you two for years!"

"yes, please just end it tonight! whether you get together or never talk about it again," rei rolls her eyes.

"what?" you stop, looking at them.

"rei's right, although i'd prefer for you to finally get together."

"wait wait wait, what do you mean?"

"are you being for real right now? you two have clearly had a thing for each other this whole time!" rei says like it was obvious. "we've known it for years."

"go get your man!" hiyyih sighs, turning you by your shoulders and pushing you away this time.

you try not to dwell on the thought of your friends betting on your relationship with jungwon, and pretend you never heard a word come out of their mouths.

soon, the headmaster calls for everyone's attention.

"welcome students!" his voice echoes throughout the hall, the music quietening for his speech. "first and foremost, i want to thank this year's head girl and boy for organising such an event for us. give it up for kim y/n and yang jungwon!" he shouts, a spot light highlighting your two figures in the room. you quickly turn to look at jungwon, who looks back at you with a smile, as everyone claps loudly, some even whistling supportively.

"and with that, may the spring ball begin - with the spring dance, kicking off with the head boy and girl leading the first dance," professor si-hyuk ends his speech.

everyone cheers and makes way for you two on the dance floor, which magically raises up in the middle of the hall.

music begins to play as you face the head boy, who inches closer to you every second.

time slows as he places his hand on your hips, guiding your hand to his shoulders. all other noise is drowned out by the sound of your heart, pounding so hard it might come out your chest. you don't see anyone but yang jungwon.

and he's looking at you like he sees no one else but you either.

it's crazy, how you're here, dancing, in the arms of the person who you've hated since 1st year - who motivated you to work hard during all these years.

you think back to your first meeting with him.

you could imagine the sparkles in your eyes as you stare at everything in awe, still in disbelief.

last month, a weirdly-dressed person knocked at your front door, and told your parents that you were a witch.

of course, you hadn't believed her at first, until she pointed her wand at a decorative figurine and made it float upside down. you and your family had been absolutely floored and confused. how could something like that even happen?

last month, the weirdly-dressed lady described to you a world that sounded fictional, of magic and creatures you could never even imagine. she explained why you had all these weird happenings growing up, things that were simply unexplainable.

your world was turned upside down in a few moments, and now you were here, on a train, to a magical school.

of course, you were incredibly sad to be away from your family for the first time in your life, but you were assured that you still had many ways to connect with them. and so, you set off into a new world completely alone, but with a lot of excitement.

you walked around the compartments as the train set off, peering and saying hi to other students.

until, you bumped into a boy who had the prettiest eyes you've ever seen, and the cutest little dimple that had 11-year old you's heart melting.

"be careful and look where you're going," he says nonchalantly.

"i'm so sorry! i was just so excited - i mean, aren't you? could you ever believe magic exists? i won't until i try it for myself!" you ramble enthusiastically.

you trail off when you see him looking at you with a mix of pity and boredom.

"oh, so you're a muggle-born, huh?"

"what do you mean?" you ask confusedly.

"well, whatever you think, i'm not like you. i already know what you just learned, and i already know what you still have to learn," he shrugs, picking at his nails like he ha better things to do than talk to you. "sorry, i think you're going to struggle a little bit here," he simply says, and leaves you alone in the middle of the train corridor.

what the hell? you ask yourself.

snobby rich kids isn't something you thought you'd experience in the wizarding world, but i guess somethings are just universal, huh?

something about the way he looked at you; talked to you like you were below him though - it bugged you.

"i'm gonna struggle?" you ask yourself in disbelief. absolutely not, you didn't want him to be right. you'll make sure of it.

and so, you ran back to your own compartment and pulled out your books, making a resolution to study everything and make sure you knew all the content. you wanted to show whoever that kid is that he's wrong, that you're better than him.

and so, the rest of the long ride and even your first night was spent catching up on what you missed out on, making sure you were prepared for whatever this extraordinary world would throw at you.

and most especially, preparing for whatever trouble the boy, who's name you learned was yang jungwon would give you.

gradually, more people join the dance, but you're so entranced by the boy in your arms, you don't notice how he's whisked you away from the main dance floor.

now towards the side of the room, away from all attention, jungwon looks down at you with all the love in his eyes.

it's overwhelming, you can't escape your emotions anymore. you like jungwon, possibly even more. you feel like all these feelings are about to burst out of you, and jungwon's arms are the only thing keeping you together.

"y/n, i think you still owe me something," he whispered, his face dangerously close to yours.

"and what would that be?" you naturally retort, having developed the instinct to talk back when it came to him.

"don't play with me, please let me kiss you."

"i don't think so." you pause teasingly, trying not to giggle at his pout, his dimple coming out. "let me kiss you," you say, finally leaning in, sealing your lips.

it felt just like the one back in 5th year, but better. jungwon held you impossibly closer by the waist, as if fearing you would run away. but you won't, and you never will. because in his arms, you never felt as safe and comfortable in your own skin as you did then.

you finally part for air, but jungwon's eyes never strayed from your face.

"i lied earlier by the way, when i said you looked good." you raise your eyebrows at him questioningly, before he smiles cheekily at you. "you look like the stars that put me to sleep every night."

"i didn't know you were poetic like that," you laughed lightly, leaning your forehead on his chest. "you look like my boyfriend."

"that's because i am," he says pulling you in for another kiss.

you don't think you'll ever get tired of kissing him. it's an unforgettable moment, and an unforgettable night.

you never knew you were missing something until you met jungwon, and you think you can finally breathe with him next to you (and your friends passing riki 20 galleons each two tables away).

; author's corner! hii this was inspired by all the jily fics i've read over the years (whew i didn't even realise how long i've been reading fanfiction...) LMAO anyways may irls never find out this acc belongs to me bc my realistic self barfed at what i just wrote but my delulu self was kicking and giggling while editing but i hope you enjoyed!

; taglist @wonuslust @enhacatalog @makiswrld @forjungwons @yebin14 @lovelovelovebts @amanda-archives @beomgyusonlywife @bbinwrld@em-asian @enhamysunshines @ahnneyong @jungwonscafe bold couldn't be tagged!

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ mi's works #k-labels #yang jungwon #jungwon #jungwon x reader #yang jungwon x reader #jungwon angst #jungwon fluff #enhypen x reader #jungwon imagines #jungwon oneshots #jungwon ff #jungwon hogwarts au #enhypen fic #hogwarts au #enhypen #enhypen jungwon #ੈ♡˳ - in my head

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breadly-art · 2 months

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I often see people saying that Miguel hates children. All I can say to such people is that their views are too shallow. And that's why they're wrong:

Let's think logically. Miguel, like the entire HQ, is sure that the violation of canon events will result in the destruction of the entire universe. He has reason to believe so - before his eyes, the whole world disappeared through his own fault. That's it, it's all gone. Of course, Miguel will be sure that it is not worth violating the canon. Moreover, he knows that the universes are connected, and if you lose too many of them, then the entire multiverse will collapse, this is logical. It's like a spider web - the more holes there are in it, the sooner it will break.

Miguel leads a squad that maintains the stability of the canon by dealing with anomalies. He must be sure that each of the spider-men will be reliable enough to prevent a violation of the canon event. He has no other option, he will not just forget about the minor mistakes of any spider-man from the HQ. Not because he's angry and strict, but because the safety of all universes depends on it, God damn it.

He's in charge for a reason. He knows what he is doing and why, he knows what a mistake will cost. "I don't always like what I have to do. But I know that I have to be the one to do it." He knows that the canon event often costs someone their life, he knows that some spider-man will feel bad about it, but are there any other options?... Yes, in the question "one person or the whole universe" he chooses the universe, but that doesn't make him an asshole. He's trying to save millions of lives in the only reliable way he knows how.

And now back to his "hatred of children." Miles. Yes, I can understand his desire to save his father, but it could destroy his universe. And yes, it is not a fact that it will be destroyed, but judging by what Miguel saw, the chance of the collapse of the universe is GREAT. And it's not just about Miles's universe, it's about all universes. A web with many holes breaks faster. If saving the universes costs Miles's father's life, if Miguel has to keep Miles at HQ by force to prevent him from making a mistake, he will do it. I don't think Miguel likes it. But he knows he has to be the one to do it.

Gwen. A lot of people didn't like the way he treated her, but listen - there were reasons for that. As I said, Miguel needs to be confident in every spider-Man at HQ, it's a matter of keeping the universes safe. And Gwen let Miles go, let go of someone whose actions could destroy everything. Miguel can't count on her the way he used to, not after she let Pavitr's canon break and didn't catch Miles. He sends her home not because he hate her, but because the HQ is not a place for those who think with their gut. Here you need to think with your head, only this can be 100% sure. You can't make mistakes. HQ must not allow the disruption of the canon. They must not allow the chance of death of millions of people. So Miguel wasn't mad at Gwen. He was disappointed in her - because she couldn't make a hard choice.

For the same reason, he doesn't take Peter B. on a mission. Peter didn't stop Miles when he had the chance, but unlike Gwen, he hasn't questioned Miguel's theory about the canons yet. Peter believes him, but is clearly not sure what to do next. That's why Miguel takes Jess and Ben with him, the ones he's 100% sure of.

Next... Gwen's father. No one, damn it, keeps their finger on the trigger when they don't really want to shoot. Do you think he wouldn't have shot his own daughter? Oh no, he would have done it. And Miguel understood that - that's why he intervened, even though he shouldn't have been there. After all, remember - a vulture could disrupt some kind of canon event. But which one? Facereveal Gwen in front of her father, perhaps? Nevertheless, Miguel intervened. After all, he knows what it's like to deal with an Irish father named George, who is ready to raise his hand against a child.

And then, even seeing Gwen's insecurity after everything that happened, he suggests that she "join the club", he knows what it's like to be all alone. And he clearly doesn't want that for Gwen.

Miguel is not a bad character. Not a villain. He doesn't hate children. He's just trying to protect the universes the best he can, and he's ready to be the one who has to make the hard choice. I don't think he likes it all. He keeps doing it because he doesn't know any other way. He tried to find it - and the more he tried, the more damage he did. He’s only on the “prevent other worlds from being disrupted” step of this process and he’s already way past worn out.

Look at it from this angle - if you had been working on a project for a very long time, which you had already failed once (and it was so terrible that you don't want to remember), which required all your time and effort, required you to lead people you didn't know very well, required you to constantly make choices, after which you would they always looked askance, and you yourself would feel extremely lousy, but which would clearly benefit many people... And then there was a high chance that another person would ruin everything for you, because he has another untested work plan. And this person is not listening to you, this person is not interested in your arguments, he is absolutely stubborn. Wouldn't you freak out about it? Wouldn't you be angry? Wouldn't you try to stop this person with all your might? This is not hatred of children. It's a damn fear.

#breadly posts #miguel o'hara #atsv #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel 2099 #astv miguel #miguelito #miguel spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #text post

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heli-writes · 3 months

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A dragon's heart

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: Heavy violence in the last part, throat cutting and gutting of human people, mentions of rape (no visual description!), swearing

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Part 1, Part 2

Series Masterlist

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People don't dare to speak about them out loud. Afraid that it would manifest them. They would only speak about them only in whispers behind closed doors. Fathers would tell their sons that it's better to flee than to fight. Don't play the hero. You can't win a fight against them, no one can. Mothers tell their daughters about the horrors they commit. You'd rather be dead than be captured by them. The women they don't kill after they're done, don't last more than a week. Y/n heard all the stories growing up. Some are more horrifying than others. Y/n has never lived in one place for too long. Her people have always been wanderers, offering their services and wares to the villages they pass through. So, she's come to hear a great deal of stories in her lifetime.

In the past two years, life has been unfortunate for y/n. The wandering folk have always been victims of bandits waiting on the side of the road. They've found ways to defend themselves but bandit activity has risen in the past years due to the barbarians attacking and raiding places all over the kingdom. Like sharks smelling blood, other low-life criminals start to crawl out of their holes, sensing an opportunity to gain some coin and women for themselves. Y/n's group has been attacked quite a few times over the last two years, decimating their numbers bit by bit. Having lost people, coins and wares, the last winter was harsh. Those, who didn't starve to death, died due to the harsh cold or infection that followed soon after. After that winter, there weren't many left of them and the survivors started to question if their way of life was still liveable in the current condition. Eventually, the group dismembered. Not all at once, but one by one. People found other work or opportunities in the villages they passed through. A better prospect of life. Even y/n's elder brother, her only surviving family member, left this spring and enrolled in the military service of the king. He tried to convince her to come with her and settle down in the capital. But y/n can't imagine such a life. Being used to living in the open, in tents and wagons, she developed a distaste for sleeping in houses made of stone. It gives her nightmares. The thought that the house might crumble and its stones burying her alive, scares her to death.

Eventually, y/n ends up alone. Only her, her tent, and a wagon her parents left behind. She tried keeping up the life of a wanderer until her donkey died of old age and she had no coin to buy a new one. Having no opportunity to continue to pull her wagon, she was forced to settle closeby to a small settlement. Here's the thing. Villagers are usually nice to the wandering folk. They're happy to trade with them and the change of pace and stories they bring with them. However, they are not keen on having them in their life permanently. It's nice to have them around for a couple of days, but it's also good when they move on. Then there are the prejudices. Often people put y/n's kind into the same box as other people without a permanent residence like bandits, homeless people, or moving brothels. So, people weren't too happy when y/n put up her tent close to the village entrance.

You see, most people don't treat y/n unkindly as long as she keeps her distance and has the proper coin when she needs to buy something. They even trust her enough to buy her wares but they're not very inclusive. So y/n does not really find any friends or social connections and she is aware of the demeaning glances and sneers people give her when they think she's not looking. She's trying to save up coins for a new donkey and hopes to find her brother. Maybe convincing him to leave the military. Or at least to find a more inviting place than where she is now.

Today's the celebration of the long day. It's the longest day of the year and the people celebrate the daylight for blessing their fields and fruits. There's a festival in the village with dances, beverages and lots of music. It gives y/n some consolation that the village people are celebrating this day. It's a big festival for her people with different traditions and rituals that are held all day and night. This year y/n tried to do as many of them on her own, but it's just not the same without your family around. So, she's glad she can go into the village and take part in the buzzing celebration. Though 'take part' is probably a bit too much. She probably will buy a cup of fruit wine and watch the hustle and bustle of the villagers. It's not like anybody would want to dance with her. After all, she has no real prospect of marriage around here. Nobody would let their son court and marry a woman like her. Not that y/n is interested in any of the young men she's seen in the village. She finds most of them quite close-minded and not very driven.

Y/n wears a flower crown she's woven today and one of her mother's dresses. It actually might be the one she got married in. She wanders the town square and watches old men toast with full jugs of beer and young couples sneaking around, waiting for the music to start. She gets herself a cup of wine and a sugary piece of cake and settles on the ground next to the bakery stand. Cross-legged, she bites into her cake and takes notice of some middle-aged women looking in her direction and whispering behind raised hands. Y/n shrugs it off as the music starts to play and people start to dance. She watches the commotion and whips her feet to the music. She really would love to dance. At midnight, the villagers dim the lanterns and lit a fire in the middle of the square. Curiously, y/n blends into the mass that gathers around the fire. She bumps into a man her age. She apologizes and gives the man a small smile. The man looks at her in bewilderment and his friend gives her a mean look, pulling the man away from her. Slowly, silence befalls the square and the old storyteller of the village makes his way to the middle of the square, next to the fire. Y/n buzzes with excitement. She loves stories. Before starting his story, the man lets his gaze wander through the people and takes a deep breath.

Far away from here, behind the mountain range we call bear fangs, lays the territory of the dragonblood tribe. These beasts of men managed to tame the greatest monsters known to mankind: the dragons. Over 12 feet high, spewing raging fire, these creatures are nothing more than steel-hard scales and razor-sharp teeth. While normal people, like us, would fear for their lives encountering these monsters, the dragonblood tribe has lived together with them for centuries in what they call harmony. There's no doubt you have to be a special kind of person to survive an encounter with such a monster, let alone live with them. Tall, strong, cunning and unafraid of death. All characteristics the men of the tribe possess. Some say they even mixed their blood with their dragons and gained impenetrable skin and superhuman strength.

A strength that they still use today to bring terror and fear into our lands. However, a few winters ago, a horrible sickness befell the women of the dragonblood tribe. Most of them didn't survive the season. Having lost their women, the dragonblood men lust for female flesh. Flesh that they seek nowadays in our lands.

We've all heard stories. From an aunt or uncle living in other parts of the kingdom, from passing merchants or the wandering folk about them. They do not care for day or night, they attack whenever they feel like it. There's no plan or logic to their attack, just chaos and violence. They burn houses, skin men alive, put children on spikes and do unspeakable, terrible things to our women. We should fear every single one of them but... there's one we should fear the most. Their leader: Bakugou Katsuki. He's the cruelest, strongest, and meanest of them all. He managed to tame the biggest and most dangerous dragon of all kinds: A hellfire dragon. With scales red as blood and fire as hot as a hundred forges, no one can escape this beast. And no one can escape its master either. With an insatiable hunger for coin, gold and women, their leader and his men continue to invade this country and raid its villages and towns. Greedily acquiring riches and kidnapping and taking our women whenever they please. You never know when they strike, but when you see a sliver of burning red in the sky... Take your little siblings, put your old mother on your back and leave farm and home behind, and run as fast as you can. If you're lucky, and cunning yourself, you might just be able to escape the terror of the dragonblood tribe and live another day to tell the story.

As the storyteller finishes his story, the market square lies in eery silence. Nobody dares to even move. Only when the musicians start playing again and the lanterns are lit again, the tension eases and the gathering around the fire dissolves. Y/n gets up from the place she was seated in and rubs her arms. There are goosebumps all over her body. What a creepy story to tell during such delightful festivities, she thinks. She grabs her cup to return it to the vendor. In passing, she hears someone say: "Why on earth would he speak of this? Doesn't he know it's a bad omen to speak it out loud?". She returns her cup and lets her gaze wander over the square once more. Some couples picked up dancing again but it's obvious that the atmosphere has shifted. Y/n notices the man she bumped into earlier watching her from across the square. She gives him a nod and then turns around to leave.

Y/n set up camp not too far away from the village, but far away enough to have some peace and quiet. The wandering folk often set up camp in a forest or closeby a river, living off the land around them. So, y/n has a short walk by foot back to her tent. The moon stays high in the sky, illuminating her surroundings enough for her to comfortably find her way home. Deep in her own thoughts, y/n doesn't notice the dark shadows following her. She's been walking for a while when she finally hears the snickering of male voices behind her. She looks over her shoulder and sees three male silhouettes following her. "Hey, y/n, wait a second!", she hears one of them yell. The voice is familiar. One of the villagers. She stops for a second, a stupid mistake on her part. One of the men jog up to her, the others following closely. "I'm sorry, can I help you with anything?", y/n says calmly. "Actually, there's something huge you could help me with.", the man she bumped into earlier grins. Y/n pretends not to catch on the allusion. "If you need help with something, it's best to work on it tomorrow. Also, we probably should talk to your father first since he handles business in your family.", she states. She hopes the mention of his father will intimidate the guy. "Oh, I think it's best to work on it tonight.", the man answers and his friends snicker behind him. "Sorry, I'm tired. Let's talk about it tomorrow.", y/n tries to advert him once again. "It won't be any work for you at all. You'd just have to lay down. Or stand up, depending on how you like it.", the man says and leans close. "I'd like to go home. Alone.", she tells him and turns to leave. "C'mon don't be like that!", one of his friends grins behind him, as the other one grabs her arm. "You're drunk. You should all go home, too. It's best to sleep it off.", she tells them and pulls on her arm. "Why are you like that? You don't think we're worth your time?", the third one coos. Y/n pulls on her arm again. "I'm sure you're all great and we can talk about everything tomorrow. Right now, however, I'd prefer to go home alone.", she tries again. "Not even for some coin? I heard your kind does everything for a little bit of gold.", the man holding her arms sneers. Not for any gold in the world, y/n would like to say. She knows better than to offend them. It's already a dangerous situation she's in. No need to escalate it further. "C'mon, babe. At least let me feel you up a bit.", the guy says and tries to pull her closer. Y/n decides that she has had enough of this. She balls her fist and swings it right into the man's face. Not expecting the blow, he lets go of her arm and stumbles back. Y/n doesn't waste a second and makes a run for it. Immediately, she leaves the well-known path and darts into the woods. She hopes that the trees give her enough cover to keep out of their sight. She runs in a zigzag, changing her direction multiple times. She hears the man behind her, trying to keep up with her. Unfortunately for her, they are bigger and faster than her and it's hard to shake them off. Eventually, y/n loses them. She climbs up a tree and stays unmoving for a long time. She doesn't hear them anywhere close by and her heart slows down a bit. It's not the first time she had to run away from men with bad intentions. She knows it's not a smart idea to return to her tent immediately. So, she stays up on the tree for most of the night. Her eyes fall close a couple of times but after she almost loses balance one time, she stays awake for the remaining night listening closely into the woods.

Only when the sun starts to rise again and wafts of mist waver over the cold forest ground, y/n climbs down from her spot. Her joints are stiff and she's chilled to the bone. Cautiously, she starts her way back to her tent. Of course, she did not watch where she was going last night and it takes her multiple hours to find her way back. When she arrives at her campsite, chills run down her back. Apparently, these men were not only relentless but also petty. Her entire campsite is destroyed. They absolutely trashed the place and set fire to her tent and wagon. Y/n takes in the sight. She tries to stay calm but her blood is boiling. It's not like she cared much about the possessions. The wandering folk always packed lightly and only what they could carry. It's the disrespect for her. Also, the little things that she did own were necessities. It's still early in the morning, so y/n decides to salvage what she can and take her leave. She knows men like this. When they don't get what they want, they don't rest until they absolutely destroy everything.

Unfortunately for y/n, the devil works fast and these men work faster. She just started piling up things that were still usable when she hears clamoring just a mile away. "Let's go! She must be back by now! No way she leaves her witchcraft stuff behind!", she hears a man yell. Y/n debates for a few seconds whether or not to stand her ground but decides it's better to avoid confrontation. She quickly grabs a small bag and retreats to the forest. However, she doesn't make it far. Only a few meters into the woods, an arrow flies by her head. "There she is! I saw her just beyond the tree line!", she hears a yell behind her. Immediately, y/n breaks into a sprint. She tries to lose them by zigzagging again but the broad daylight makes it easier for them to spot her. Being used to walking all day, y/n has quite the stamina and hopes to tire them out. However, she didn't sleep all night and the men seemed to have prepared for a longer hunt. 'Hunt' is the appropriate term here. They keep shooting arrows at her and seem to track her trails.

The forest no longer looks familiar to y/n as she keeps pushing on. Her heart feels as if it's about to explode. In a bad way. She's sure the men on her tail can hear her heavy breathing from a mile away. She's also sure that they start to catch up to her. She can hear them closer and closer behind her. They are whooping and whistling as if they are making fun of her. So sure that they can catch up to her. Suddenly, an arrow flies close to her face again, cutting her ear. She can feel blood dripping down the side of her face. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! You can't hide forever, you little bitch!", she hears one of them call out behind her. She gathers all her strength and pushes her legs to run even faster than before. Panic sets in and she hears an arrow hit the ground behind her. Trying to look back in order to estimate how far they are behind her, she stumbles over the roots of a tree and falls to the ground. "Over there!", a voice yells closely behind her. She gets up as quickly as she can and a piercing pain jolts through her. She must've torn or broken something in her joint as she fell. She limbs on trying to use the trees for cover. Another arrow hits the bark of the tree right next to her. She pushes herself off the tree, trying to bring more distance between herself and the men hunting her. Suddenly she loses her footing and finds herself sliding down a slope. Thorny bushes cut her legs, arms and face. The impact leaves a ringing tone in her ears. Her entire body hurts now. For a moment, she's tempted to just lay there and accept her fate. But when she hears the howling men above her, she fights to get back onto her feet again. Her bones feel heavy as she staggers on. She can hear some of the men sliding down the slope as well. Suddenly, she smells smoke in the air. Somebody must be close by!, she thinks. This thought cost her a valuable second and suddenly a pointed force to her right shoulder knocks her down again. Next, she feels a soaring pain from the very same place. When she turns her head to her side, in terror she realizes that an arrow is stuck in her shoulder. She can barely lift her arm now. On her hands and knees, she frantically looks for smoke in the air. Y/n fixes her eyes on the dark clouds of smoke rising into the air just a yard or so from her. It's my only chance, y/n decides. These people might be able to help. They can't be worse than the men that are hunting her. Little did she know, it was quite the opposite. Having found new hope, y/n gets back onto her feet. She starts sprinting again. Ignoring the pain in her foot joint, she pushes her body to the limit. Avoiding arrows out of sheer luck, she manages to avoid getting killed. Finally, she stumbles onto the clearing where the smoke was coming from.

Her eyes fall onto the fireplace first, then at the man sitting next to it. The man only wears dark pants and a pair of boots. He's got blonde spiky hair that stands up in different directions. Necklaces of teeth hand from his neck. All things y/n doesn't register in her panic. That and the giant, red dragon sleeping at the other side of the clearing. The man gets up immediately and grabs a sword that laid across his lap just seconds ago. He looks at y/n angrily, ready to yell or behead her or both. However, he does not get a chance to speak. Y/n's body gives out and she falls onto her knees. "I'm begging you!", she yells out, tears streaming down her face. "Please help me! If you have just an inch of good in you, please find the mercy to help me! They are going to kill me!", she continues to yell. The man looks at her in bewilderment. Nearby, the village men yell in her direction. In horror, she pushes herself up once more and stumbles in the direction of the strange man in front of her. She falls straight into his chest, clinging onto his arm. For a moment, the man looks as if he wants to push her back to the ground again but he doesn't get a chance to do so. One of the men hunting y/n stumbles onto the clearing with a knife in his hand. "There you are, you little slut!", he yells. In fear, y/n clings to the man in front of her. Suddenly, the stranger grabs her right arm. Pain shots from the arrow wound into her fingertips. She looks up and sees the stranger look at the wound with narrowed eyes. Another villager reaches the clearing. This one carries a bow and arrow. The stranger quickly makes the connection between the arrow stuck in y/n's shoulder and the arrow in the man's hand.

The stranger yells something non-understandable and pushes y/n to the side who falls to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The impact sends more pain through y/n body. "Who the fuck are you? That one belongs to us, find your own toy to play with!" the knife man says and raises his weapon. The stranger exclaims something loud and angry. Again y/n can't understand him. He must speak a different language than her. Suddenly a rumble pierces the air. Y/n's head whips around and the dragon rises to his feet. Y/n's mouth hangs open in disbelief. The man with the arrow yelps in surprise and lets go of his arrow sending it flying in an arbitrary direction. The stranger in front of her doesn't waste a second and uses the distraction to cut the knife guy's throat in a swift movement. In horror, y/n watches as blood gushes out of the horizontal wound and the man chokes on his own body fluids. The man with the bow stumbles backward onto his butt. His eyes are still fixated on the dragon to his right. The stranger harshly steps onto the man's foot. The disgusting sound of breaking bones rings through the air. The man yells in pain and throws his head back. The stranger grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks his head forward. Angrily, he yells at the villager and when the man only groans in pain, the stranger sticks his sword into his side. The villager lets out a bone-chilling scream. When the villager continues to not answer him, the stranger starts twisting his sword in the wound. The villager throws up on himself and his eyes roll into the back of his head. Y/n can't advert her eyes. She doesn't really comprehend what's happening in front of her. When more yelling is heard at the edge of the clearing, the stranger pulls his sword diagonally through the man's abdomen, creating a wound that makes squishy red things fall out of the man's body. Y/n feels like throwing up. The stranger drops the twitching man and makes its way to the edge of the clearing. What happens next is not registered by y/n who can't help but stare at the gutted man in front of her who keeps twitching until the light has left his eyes. She doesn't hear the screams of terror and death from the other side of the clearing. She doesn't even see the giant beast watching her every move.

Only when the stranger returns with blood dripping down his sword and chest, y/n's consciousness finds its way back into her body. The stranger looks as angry as he has since she entered his clearing. He sounds angry too. He's saying something to her. Looking at it backward, y/n is sure that she wouldn't have been able to understand him even if he spoke her language at this very moment. Only when he stomps closer to her with a raised sword, y/n springs to action and pushes herself backward with one leg, still sitting on the ground. This is it, she thinks, I'm going to die. The man grabs her uninjured shoulder and shakes her. She stares up at him with wide eyes. Suddenly, her vision starts spinning and her hearing starts to fade. Before she understands what is happening, her world fades to black.

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