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halsteadlover · 7 months

Text

𝐌𝐫. & 𝐌𝐫𝐬. 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝

*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: you and Jay finally got married but even on your weeding day you can’t seem to be able to keep your hands off each other so you sneak out during the party to have a quick rendezvous.

• Warnings: smut (18+), dirty talking, lots of cursing, fingering, oral sex (m. receiving) unprotected sex (don’t be like them fellas!!!), semi-public sex, so much fluff you’ll drown in it.

• Word count: 7800.

• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+ minors stay away. I’m actually shit at writing summaries y’all can tell. I’m so excited for this fic so y’all better eat this up 😭 I really hope you’ll like it, please let me know what you think and comment, like and reblog, it’d mean the world. Stay safe and love you all xx

“And I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

It was surreal.

You and Jay were finally husband and wife and you couldn't believe it.

“I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you,” he had whispered on your lips when you exchanged your first kiss as husband and wife, your heart bursting with joy and happiness.

On the way to the wedding venue Jay did nothing but kiss and caress your ring finger, still in disbelief you really decided to marry him. You were his, forever.

You couldn’t stop grinning.

Everything seemed more beautiful. The colors were brighter, the air cleaner, the sky bluer, the trees greener.

Everyone present including colleagues, friends, family could see how happy you both were, how much you doted on each other, how much you were in love. There wasn’t anyone who hadn't thought at least once how much they would’ve liked to experience a love like yours. So pure, genuine, crazy, overwhelming.

Jay didn't take his eyes or hands off of you for even a second.

He kept looking at you and the more he saw you smiling, laughing, so happy and carefree, the more he couldn't contain his disbelief. God, he would’ve given you the fucking moon if it meant always seeing that smile on your face. You were so unbelievably beautiful especially in that white dress, which hugged your body so perfectly it seemed to be sewn on you.

My wife.

He kept repeating in his mind.

How the hell did he get so lucky?

His hand circled your hips with a firm, possessive grip, while his thumb caressed the fabric of the dress that covered your skin. He couldn’t help but stealing kisses from you from time to time, between a ‘congratulations’ and another, whispering how much he loved you and how fabulous you looked in your wedding dress.

“Did I already tell you how stunning you are, my love?” Jay asked as his eyes ran up and down your body, holding you to him with so much passion and desire you felt like you were dying in his arms.

You both had inaugurated the dance floor by doing the first dance and while those present watched the scene with emotion, some of your relatives took videos with their cell phones, unaware of the things that Jay was whispering to you and just seeing with how much adoration you looked at each other.

You smiled as you talked, slowly swaying to the song’s rhythm, unaware of how much your eyes sparkled as you looked at him. He looked at you with just as much admiration, his cheeks aching from how much he was smiling, his heart exploding with joy. Even someone blind could tell how much that man loved and adored you, how much he venerated you, how much he worshiped the land you walked on.

“You're not half bad either Mr Halstead,” you replied with a cheeky smile, unable to take your eyes off him and how wonderfully the suit he was wearing looked on him “God, I just want to rip your clothes off right now,” you continued, not realizing you had actually said it out loud.

Jay's arms tightened around your hips, pulling you further into his body and trying to hide how that one sentence made him feel. “Baby don't talk to me like that… I'm already trying so hard not to drag you away right now. You really want to make me lose my mind?” He warned you in a low tone, his lips brushing your ear before leaving a soft kiss on your cheek. He then sighed with frustration making you chuckle. “I don't think I can last the whole day.”

The song came to an end before you could respond and before you knew it everybody was drunkly dancing around you.

Your feet were sore as you and Jay danced with friends and relatives and you would’ve paid gold to take off those damned torture machines.

Seriously, why did heels have to hurt so much?

You were hot, sweaty but happy, like you had never been before. Jay wasn't much for dancing so he eventually went to talk to some other guests but he was having the time of his life and couldn’t take his eyes off you as he watched you dance, the way your body moved to the music, the way your curves were hugged by your wedding dress, the the way you sprayed happiness from every pore.

The love he felt for you was so unconditional, powerful and intense in such a way it took the air out of his lungs, it made the blood boil in his veins, it consumed him deeply, burned him from inside.

He had never once in his life felt anything like this, not until he met you. It felt like constantly being punched in the stomach every time you looked or smiled at him, it felt like his heart skipped a beat every time he heard your laugh, making it dance to that melody he couldn't wait to hear for the rest of his life. That kind of love was so profound that even when you were sad or cried, he felt like a piece of him was being ripped out of his body, especially when he couldn’t do anything to make you feel better.

He lived for you, breathed for you only, to a point he couldn’t even function when you weren’t by his side.

“Okay, okay, enough, I'd like to dance with my wife now,” Jay's voice made you turn and you almost tripped over your own feet when your eyes landed on him.

He was standing behind you, looking at you with a gorgeous and mischievous smile on his lips, his hands shoved in the pockets of his suit. He exuded confidence from every pore of his body and you couldn’t even explain how you managed to get that man. He was so charming, so dreamy and insanely hot, he completely took your breath away.

My husband.

Wow. How the hell did I get so lucky?

You smiled at him and the friend you were dancing with raised her hands in surrender. “She’s all yours Halstead but treat her right or I’ll kill you.”

His eyes traveled down your body, running his tongue over his bottom lip after biting it as his gaze devoured you with so much intensity and desire that every cell in your body lit up on fire. “She’s in excellent hands Clara, don't worry.”

“Ugh you’re disgusting. Stop eye-fucking my friend in front of me.”

You laughed as he wrapped an arm around your waist, now looking at Clara. “Can you blame me? C’mon look at her.”

“I’m still here and I can here you, you know,” you intervened, giggling as your arm encircled his hips too.

“I'm watching you Halstead, just remember that,” she warned him with an amused look and pointing her finger at him before walking away and going to grab another drink.

Jay then let you go and turned your body to his, holding out a hand towards you, finally meeting your gaze again. “Would you give me the honor of this dance, Mrs Halstead?”.

The way that name slipped from his lips made you melt like a snowman under the heat of the sun's rays, God how much you loved the way it sounded.

Mrs Halstead. Fuck me.

“The honor is all mine Mr. Halstead,” You grabbed his hand and before you knew it you were already pressed against his chest while his arms wrapped again around your hips possessively, almost as if he was afraid to let you go.

“My gorgeous wife” he whispered while swaying to the rhythm of the music. A rush of shivers ran down your spine forming goosebumps all over your skin. “Do you have any idea how much you drive me crazy? I’m so obsessed with you baby.”

His lips left small, sweet kisses on your lips, making you have a hard time to respond. You giggled as his beard tickled you meanwhile he planted chaste kisses along your cheek and neck. He inhaled your scent deeply, a scent he’d never could live without.

“And I’m so obsessed with you.” You wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands slid down the small of your back, resting chastely on your ass. “You make me so insanely happy Mr Halstead.”

Anyone who saw you two would say you were just a beautiful couple dancing happily on the best day of their lives.

But the things Jay was whispering in your ear were far from innocent, they would’ve made even a porn star blush.

“God I can't wait to take this dress off you,” he had said as your bodies moved in time to the music. He had turned you around, pressing your back against his chest and wrapping his arms around your waist. There was a lively song playing at the moment, the bass so loud you could hear it across the room and you couldn't deny you were grinding against him more sensually than you would other times on purpose.

You couldn't control yourself, not when it came to him.

Jay had the ability to make you give in with just two simple words whispered in your ear. Normally you couldn't keep your hands to yourself for a long time, your sexual chemistry had always been high and this moment was no different. You wanted him so badly you almost forgot you were on the dance floor celebrating your wedding.

You almost moaned when you felt his erection pressed against your ass, hard and sore, repressing the instinct to get on your knees and pull down his pants in front of everyone.

“Baby,” he murmured against your ear, leaving wet kisses on your neck. “God the things I would do to you now…”

Your stomach tightened in a vice as the heat in your lower abdomen continued to expand. “Tell me darling. What would you do to me now?” You replied in a question, pressing your ass further against his dick.

God I hope no one notices.

Jay let out a sigh that went straight to your pussy, making your legs clench in desire. “Fuck please stop, I can't take this anymore,” his arms tightened around your hips even more, as if trying to let out the frustration. He felt like he was exploding and the more you kept grinding against him, so sensually to the music’s rhythm, the more he wanted to rip your dress off and fuck you in front of all the guests.

You turned towards him again, placing your hands on his chest and caressing him slowly and sensually while batting your eyelashes seductively as you looked at him.

Jay thought he’d come in his pants just from the way you were looking at him.

His eyes were now hungrily fixed on your lips, which he wanted so desperately wrapped around his hard dick.

“So?” You urged with a smirk on your lipstick-covered lips. “What would you do to me baby?”.

Jay placed his hands on your face, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “You really want to know what I would do to my wife right now?”.

You were so desperate you nodded as if you were possessed, God, you would’ve done anything that man asked you. That man that was now your husband.

It's so surreal.

He licked his lips as his eyes moved up and down your body for a moment, quickly but at the same time imprinting every detail of how that dress looked on you in his memory, before returning his eyes to your face and tracing with them the outline of your lips.

“It would be better if I showed her, don't you think?” he whispered against your lips, making you forget again you were in public and not just the two of you.

“Wouldn't it be better if I just showed her the way I would take off her dress and get on my knees for her? Wouldn't it be better if I showed her how much I want and desire her by licking her pussy and every bit and drop of her wetness until her legs tremble? By fucking her so hard until we both forget our names? By being buried so deep inside that sweet little cunt of hers that she’s gonna feel me for days?”.

He pressed his lips on yours in a chaste and sweet kiss, in stark contrast with the things he was saying to you. “And show her how hard I am inside my pants just by looking at her in this dress? Show her how happy I am that she’s my wife? That I get to keep her forever?”.

That's it.

You slightly pulled away from him and grabbed his hand before leading him away from the dance floor and out of the wedding reception, not caring if someone actually saw you two leave. Your free hand held the edge of your dress as the two of you walked down the hall. He followed you like a puppy, a stupid, inebriated smile on his lips, his body quivering with anticipation and frenzy.

You arrived in front of a door that marked ‘storage room’ on its nameplate and looked around noticing that no one was there. You opened the door and pulled Jay inside with you and before you could even fully turn towards him, his hands were already on your face and his lips had captured yours in a kiss that took the breath out of your lungs.

He closed the door with his feet as he devoured you in a passionate and devastating kiss. Never letting you go, he removed one hand from your face before locking the door, returning his full attention to you immediately after.

He didn't know why but that was one of the most beautiful and breathtaking kiss you had ever exchanged, so overwhelming it made his knees weak and his stomach twist.

It may have been the fact that was the first real and passionate kiss as a married couple, maybe it was because he could finally call you his wife, because he could do this for the rest of his life, but all of this drove him like crazy.

“God I want you so much baby,” you breathed out in a little moment of separation. He didn't give you room to do or say anything else because he started kissing you again so intensely that a hit train would’ve been less crushing.

You slightly parted your lips and his tongue slid in your mouth without hesitation as they moved in sync against each other. Your dragged your hands along his chest, touching every bit of his body you could reach, almost shaking from the frenzy and desire of wanting to touch his heated skin.

A deep moan vibrated in his throat when you sucked on his tongue, making him lose that shred of sanity he had left. He pushed you against the wall, his body pressed against yours as he continued to kiss you passionately and greedily.

“You'll be the death of me,” he murmured against your lips as he planted kisses up your jaw and down to your neck. His tongue wet your skin as he nibbled it, his lips sucking at the same time making you gasp and writhe in pleasure. “I want to fucking rip this dress off you.”

You giggled – since the feeling was pretty much reciprocated – eyes still half closed as you enjoyed the sensation his lips gave you. “Don't you dare, it was expensive as fuck.”

He suddenly pulled away from you and a cold feeling took over you at that distance. His eyes traveled down your body and how your wedding dress hugged every single curve perfectly, fuck, it felt like it had been sculpted on you, like it was made just for you to wear.

He just wanted to take a good look at you, imprint in his memory every single detail of you in your white wedding dress.

But the way he looked at you, God. He was like a predator about to haunt his prey, glaring at it with desire, ready to capture it and devour its flesh with voracity and hunger. You felt so beautiful, like you could rule the world, like you were unstoppable, and you could only thank your husband for that.

“Fuck baby…” His chest rising and falling heavily due to that ardent kiss. He bit his bottom lip so hard he thought it’d start bleeding. He shook his head slightly as he continued to look at you lustfully, as if he could hardly believe you really existed, that you were actually his. “My beautiful, perfect wife…” He sighed. “I could just come from looking at you damn it.”

You pulled him back to you by the collar of his jacket and had to use all the strength you had in your body not to tear it off him along with that shirt. You kissed him again as your hands roamed down his body. You just couldn't take it anymore, you felt you’d explode soon or later if you didn't have him immediately.

You slipped his jacket off his shoulders, dropping it to the floor and hastily unbuttoned his shirt, eager to finally touch him, feel his skin against yours.

He did the same, unzipping your dress and you pulled away as he helped you step out of it. You didn't care if it got dirty or even ripped, you were just eager to finally have him, to feel him, your mind too foggy to think about anything other than Jay. But he took your dress instead of dropping it on the floor and placed it on an empty chair there.

This gesture made you smile with happiness and with every passing second you couldn't help but think about how you couldn't have chosen a better man to be your husband.

It was only then that Jay realized what you were wearing underneath your wedding dress, that vision alone almost making him fall unconscious on the floor. You were wearing one of the sexiest and most breathtaking white lingerie he had ever seen you wear and this made him regret not dragging you out that dance floor sooner.

My fucking wife.

“Baby… Jesus Christ…” he sighed heavily as he looked at you with so much lust and hunger, his mouth and his eyes wide open. “You… Wow… You’re so fucking beautiful… Holy shit…”

“I guess you like it then,” you giggled like a schoolgirl and grabbed his hands, pulling him back to you. He wasted no time touching you, caressing your curves and sliding his hand down your back until he grabbed your ass. He squeezed and massaged it with so much passion you were sure he’d leave some marks.

“Is this what you were hiding from me under that dress? Fuck if I had known I would’ve fucked you on that damn dance floor in front of everyone.” He started to grind his pelvis with yours and making you moan when his hard dick pressed against your intimacy.

“Jay please…” you sighed as he continued to grind against you, making you lose your mind. God you wanted him so much you it hurt.

His lips kept brushing his lips against yours, pulling back when you tried to kiss him and chuckling at your frustration.

“My sweet beautiful wife,” he murmured and placed his lips on your neck, on that particular spot that he knew made you lose your mind. A small moan left your mouth as he began to lick and suck at your skin again and you tilted your head, giving him more access. “I can't wait to be inside you.”

You grabbed his face and pressed your mouth on his, kissing him voraciously and passionately. It was like you were burning inside, as if your soul was trying to escape from inside your body and merge with his.

You had reached the point where you couldn't hold on for a second longer, you wanted your husband, you wanted him to take you there against those cold walls while all the guests danced in the wedding reception unaware of what you were doing.

You frantically unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down along with his boxers and freeing his hard erection, after sliding his shirt down his arms and leaving him naked in all his glory. You wrapped your hand around his erected dick and he let out a throaty moan, so fucking sexy you found yourself squeezing your legs together for some relief.

“Fuck yes…” he groaned as he struggled to continue kissing you while your hand pumped up and down on his dick. “I want to fuck this pretty mouth so bad,” he placed a hand on your cheek as his thumb caressed your lips. You took it into your mouth, licking and sucking it while your eyes were fixed on his.

He stopped when another loud moan left his mouth and he tilted his head back, his mind too clouded with pleasure. “Shh… You don’t want anyone to hear us don’t you love?” You smirked as you let go of his thumb.

“I don't give a fuck, I just need you,” he whimpered in an increasingly desperate tone.

“Yeah? How bad do you need me baby? Tell me,” you whispered sensually, biting his bottom lip as you slowed the pace of your hand and earning a frustrated verse from him.

“Fuck… Stop playing with me,” he warned you while at the same time his hips buckled up to meet your hand’s motion. You drew imaginary circles on his tip with your thumb, wet from the stain of precum. “Fucking tease,” he hissed before kissing you again. It was a sloppy and messy kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, your saliva mixing with each other.

“Now get on your knees.”

Your pussy clenched at the sound of those words and you were never so happy to obey. You were about to kneel down but before you could, he picked up his jacket from the ground and placed it in front of you, making you smile like an idiot.

If there was one thing that Jay cared about more than anything it was knowing that you were comfortable, everything else came second and this was one of the many things you loved about him: how thoughtful and caring he was, even at certain times you always came first.

“I love you so much, you know that?” You kissed him sweetly, making him smile.

“It’ll be better for you since I put a ring on that finger.” He chuckled. “And I love you so much more.”

Your heart exploded in your chest and you kissed him one last time before kneeling down, your eyes still in his as he watched with attention every little movement you made.

You jerked him off again before moving your face closer to his dick, sticking your tongue out and he almost fainted… Fuck, he wanted to take a picture of that moment so badly, he would’ve printed it out and hung it all over your home because that vision alone was pure heaven.

Maybe it wasn't a proper thing to do to compare the image of you with his dick in your hand and your tongue sticking out to heaven, but he was too distracted to think about it.

A deep, guttural moan escaped his mouth as you traced a long wet line with your tongue from the base of his dick to the tip, which went straight to his pussy, forcing you to squeeze your legs together again.

“Ah holy shit…” he sighed, breaking off with another moan when you drew circles on his tip with your tongue just as you had done with your thumb not long before, tasting the saltiness of the leaking precum. “Fuck baby please stop torturing me…”

You smirked before wrapping your lips around his veiny dick and taking it fully into your mouth, starting a steady rhythm as you bobbed your head up and down his shaft.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whimpered in pleasure as the heat of your mouth enveloped him. His eyes were half closed, his lips slightly parted as he struggled to maintain control and not make any noises. But it was so fucking hard, especially when your eyes were looking at him with so much sensuality they took the air out of his chest, not when your mouth was making him more ecstatic than any drug that existed.

“Yeah baby just like that… Oh yes… My sweet girl…”

He threw his head back, giving you a perfect view of his neck, his prominent jawline and veins and that alone was one of the hottest, sexiest things you had ever seen in your entire life.

His moans filled that little storage room and you hoped for a second no one was passing by or they would’ve surely heard him, but this thought immediately vanished, too caught up to his pleasure to care about the rest of the world.

Jay began to move his hips, fucking your mouth and hitting the back of your throat with the tip of his dick. “Shit, shit…” he loudly moaned “God you’re so fucking pretty with my dick in your mouth.”

And it was true.

You were so breathtakingly beautiful. Especially with your watery eyes, the mascara running down your cheeks, your lips swollen and pink as they continued to grind on his shaft, back and forth, again and again.

You tried not to gag while he continued to fuck your throat with particular voracity but it was almost impossible, just as it was becoming difficult to breathe as his dick kept completely filling your mouth.

“Y-yes baby… Oh fuck… That mouth of yours will be the death of me.”

Even though you were the one on your knees, you felt so powerful. Damn it, how much you loved knowing you were the only one who could make him feel this way, that you were the only one whose mouth he could fuck so mercilessly it almost made you choke on his dick, knowing that his moans, his sighs and whimpers were only and solely for you, knowing that it was only you who was making him lose his mind so badly.

He placed a hand on your head, threading his fingers into your styled hair, tugging and making you moan onto his dick. God you loved it when he did that, and he knew it.

Sensing you were having trouble breathing, Jay pulled his dick out of your mouth, taking it into his hand. “Stick out your tongue.”

You did as he said, feeling every cell in your body go up in flames.

“Such a good girl. My baby is so good for me."

He smirked as he began to slam his dick against your tongue which left a long stream of saliva on it, his other hand still in your hair as he continued to maneuver your head to his liking.

“You like that huh? You like being my pretty little slut?”.

“Fuck yes baby, please use me.”

He put his dick in your mouth again, letting out some of the most borderline pornographic moans you’ve ever heard along with strings of obscenities and profanities.

“My wife is so dirty… Oh god yeah… She likes being dirty for me?” He groaned and you managed to nod while looking at me through your lashes. It didn't take long for him to feel the orgasm starting to build inside him and he had to stop, not being able to hold on any longer.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck stop baby, you're gonna make me come,” he panted as if he'd run a marathon, stepping back and letting his dick pop out of your mouth. “I… Fuck, I need to be inside you.”

Before you could say or do anything, he helped you get on your feet and pressed his lips to yours still swollen, wet and pink from the killer blowjob you had just given him. He pressed your back against the cold wall but you didn't care, you were too hot to notice.

A moan escaped your lips this time when he moved your lace panties to the side with his fingers and slid them over your pussy.

“Fuck… Baby, ah yeah…”

“So fucking wet god… You drive me insane, I can't wait to be inside this pussy,” he kissed your neck as his fingers drew imaginary circles on your clit giving you the pleasure you so much needed.

Your hips began to slowly rotate following the same movement he was doing, your mind clouded with pleasure as you felt yourself already on the verge of an orgasm. God you were so horny, you didn't think you'd ever been this eager to fuck him.

“Look at that, fuck me, you're soaking my hands baby…”

“Bab-… Fuck yes… Please…” you babbled senselessly, struggling to keep at bay the moans and sighs that had taken the place of Jay's and were filling the storage room at that moment. “I… I can't…”

You wrapped an arm around his neck while grabbing his bicep with the other hand, trying to find some support because you felt like you’d collapse on the floor at any moment.

Your lips nibbled and sucked the skin of his neck making him sigh in your ear, on one hand to keep your almost uncontainable moans and on the other because you wanted to mark him, because you loved seeing what you did to him, you loved knowing he has only yours.

“Ah yeah… Fuck…” you hissed, biting down on his skin when he penetrated you with two fingers.

“Yes baby, fuck yourself on my fingers. Show me how much you like when your husband touches you like that.”

“J-Jay… Oh shit… I need you please…” you managed to stammer between moans. You felt like you were about to come but you needed to feel him, you needed his dick inside you.

Jay pulled his fingers out and you almost had a heart attack when he brought them to his lips. Without his eyes ever leaving yours, he licked away every trace of your fluids, humming with pleasure as he tasted you.

“You taste like heaven, I can't wait to lick every fucking drop and make you come on my face.”

“Jay I'm about to lose my goddamn mind. Please hurry up.”

He chuckled and brought his hands to your ass, pressing your half covered pussy by your panties still pulled aside against his dick, making both of you sigh with desire.

“What do you want baby? Tell me.”

You grabbed his face with your hands, pressing your mouth against his and sliding your tongue inside his when he slightly parted his lips. His hands continued to massage your now red ass, pressing his fingers hard as you kept grinding against each other.

“I want my husband to fuck me against this wall,” you whispered against his lips, pink and swollen from your impetuous kisses, your noses brushing.

My husband.

These simple words made him feel a sensation he couldn’t quite describe, an explosion of emotions that caused an electric shock to go through his entire body, which made his heart beat wildly and his legs feel like jelly.

It was pure melody.

It was so sweet and sexy at the same time, it made him was so happy he felt like he was touching the sky with a finger. He was your fucking husband and he couldn’t still fathom the idea he really managed to make you his wife.

Jay crashed his lips against yours again, sucking out that little trace of your soul you still had left in your body. He was eager to possess you, to feel you, to show you how much he loved and wanted you.

His hands lowered to your thighs and you took that as a sign to jump into his arms. With almost astonishing ease, he lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck.

Your back was pressed against the cold wall but it didn't bother you, you couldn't even feel it. With one hand he held your thigh, while the other stroked his dick a couple of times before aligning it towards your entrance, penetrating you with a single slow thrust and making both of you to let out a loud and deep moan.

“Jesus Christ, fuck…” he moaned, using every ounce of his will and strength not to come instantly. His other hand settled on your thigh again and his fingers pressed so hard they felt like they were going to tear your skin at any moment.

Jay had his face buried in the crook of your neck, his lips wide open as if trying to get some air, his breathing quickened.

“Shit baby you feel so good inside me,” you breathed out as his dick stretched out every corner of your vagina. He wasn't even moving and you were already falling apart. “Please move…”

Jay pulled out of you slightly just to penetrate you again, this time with more force. He started moving his hips slowly, in and out of you, making you crave for more. But it didn't take long for him to start fucking you like his life depended on it, his thrusts now stronger.

He was thrusting so deep you could feel him in every corner of your body and a piece of you disintegrating with each passing second. Your arms held him close to you, your fingers on his shoulders while your nails slid across his skin, leaving marks that would probably stay there for days.

“God baby I can't get enough of you, f-fuck…” he groaned in your ear as his lips left trails of wet kisses on your neck and his tongue licked your sweaty skin.

You tried to answer but the pleasure was so intense, so high you couldn’t get anything out of your mouth other than a moan or a whimper. It felt so fucking good you couldn't even describe it.

A particularly loud moan escaped your lips as he gave a particular deep thrust, making you almost jump out of your skin as he hit your G-spot. “Oh my fucking god… Just like that… Oh yeah baby…”

“That's it, moan for for me princess. You’re being so good.”

He raised his head from the crook of your neck so he could look at you. You opened your eyes and met his eyes shining with luxury and passion, his pupils so dilated you couldn’t see the green of his irises.

His dick twitched inside you as he continued to fuck you against the wall mercilessly, and seeing you so deeply in the throes of pleasure, your mouth slightly open, your cheeks flushed, your eyes half closed… He was going crazy.

You kept looking at each other’s eyes, extending the deep connection between you two to another level. It wasn’t just your bodies that were fucking, but your souls too and you would’ve payed gold to stop the time and live this moment over and over again, forever.

“I love you so much baby, God I love you.”

“Fuck.” He crashed his lips into yours in a messy and sloppy kiss due to the continuous gasps interrupting you. You rested your forehead on his, both covered in a thin layer of sweat.

“Mine.”

He kissed you as his dick soaked with your fluids continued to thrust in and out of your pussy.

“Mine.”

He kissed you again.

“Mine.”

He kissed you once again, sucking and biting your lower lip but stopped by another moan as your walls clenched around him making him struggle to even stand still.

“God… Oh yes baby keep going… Please…” you spluttered and closed your eyes as you felt your orgasm take over you.

“Don't close your eyes, please look at me… Ah Jesus… Fuck yeah keep clenching around me like that, you’re such a good girl for me baby.”

You did as he said as you placed your hands on his face looking into his eyes and feeling that sensation of pressure twisting and clenching your insides.

“I love you, fuck… S-so much…” you cried out again now, your mind completely gone. Your eyes started to water from the intensity of his thrusts and you felt like you were going to implode in that same instant. “I'm coming, I'm coming, I’m coming please don’t stop…”

A loud moan escaped your lips as an overwhelming orgasm hit you like a truck, almost giving you a heart attack. Your arms encircled his neck again, your nails scratching the skin of his shoulders.

You didn't know if you could die from an orgasm but damn that was exactly how you felt. It was like someone made you fall from a ten-story building without a parachute.

Jay exploded in an orgasm after a few more thrusts, filling your pussy with his cum until the last drop before pulling out. He exhaustedly rested his head on your shoulder leaving small, sweet kisses on your neck.

The silence that now reigned in the storage room was only broken by your panting while you both tried to catch your breath as if you had just run a marathon.

You felt so good in that moment, like your body was floating in space and you didn't know if it was the thrill of being discovered, if it was the wedding, but that was the best sex you had ever had.

“God I can't feel my body anymore,” you murmured and he chuckled as you stroked the hair on the back of his head, leaving kisses on his cheek in the meantime.

That little room smelled of him, you and sex and you had never smelled a more sublime fragrance.

“Can we stay here forever?”.

“I'm afraid we still have a party to attend,” he tiredly chuckled again. Jay raised his head to look at you, a stupid smile on his lips, his heart happy. “Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are angel?”.

You smiled and gave him a kiss on the lips, this time sweet and gentle in contrast to the ones exchanged so far. “And you're a flatterer Mr Halstead, I know I look awful right now, my makeup is all ruined.”

“You’ve never been more beautiful than you are now Mrs Halstead. You look like you've been fucked properly.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, already starting to imagine the jokes and teasing your friends would make as soon as they’d see you, not to mention the embarrassment in front of your relatives and family.

You decided you’d think about this at the right time.

After both of your regained a bit of strength again, Jay carefully put you down but wrapping an arm around your waist when your knees buckled and you nearly fell to the ground.

“Wipe that stupid grin off your face,” you commented with mock annoyance when you noticed the smug, proud expression he was looking at you with and the way he was trying not to chuckle.

“I take full credit,” he laughed and before you could respond he silenced you with a kiss, making you forget what you even wanted to say.

After getting dressed, Jay helped you put your wedding dress back on, zipping it up your back and helping you fix your hair and what was left of your makeup as much as he could. He left a kiss on your right shoulder as his hands stroked up and down your arms. “I don't want to go back there.”

He kept planting kisses on your shoulder and up towards the crook of your neck and your jaw until he reached your cheek which he insisted on, making you smile stupidly. His arms wrapped around your hips from behind, pressing your body against him and holding you until you were almost breathless.

“Where did the ‘we have a party to attend’ go?” You teased him, meanwhile placing your hands on his and caressing them.

“I want you all to myself, I'm not ready to share you with other people again, plus now I want to fuck you again.”

You laughed, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Already?“.

“Already? Baby I would spend twenty-four hours a day and seven days a week buried deep inside you, don't act like you don't know me c'mon.” He kissed you again. “And above all seeing my cum dripping out of you and this damn lingerie drives me crazy, you can’t seriously expect me to resist you.”

You turned to him and cupped his face in your hands before pressing your lips against his as his arms encircled your hips again. A flock of butterflies exploded inside your stomach and he kissed you breathtakingly, making you lose the ground beneath your feet.

“I love you so much,” you whispered between kisses, forgetting again that the two of you had been locked in that storage room for God knew how long. “I'm so happy I married you.”

He smiled as you kissed him again, almost making you kiss his teeth. He’d never get tired of hearing it, no matter how much you had said it. “God baby I love you so much more.” He held you even tighter, as if he wanted to somehow get under your skin and steal your soul, which he had actually been doing for so long.

“My wife, my wife, my wife,” he continued to whisper, stealing several more kisses from you, kisses that he actually couldn't even manage to give you because of the way you couldn't stop smiling.

“You make my heart so happy.”

“Stop you're going to make me cry,” you hit him lightly on the shoulder covered by his jacket, feeling your eyes fill with tears.

God, could you love someone so much it hurt? Because that's how you felt.

You loved that man so much. So intensely you couldn't sleep when he wasn't there, so much you missed him even when he was just a few meters away from you, so deeply you couldn't imagine a life without him since the moment you met him.

You had always dreamed of an everlasting love, the kind that took your breath away just by thinking of it, that fairytale love, that love you had always read in novels and seen in films and Jay Halstead gave you all this and much more than you ever imagined or deserved.

He was peace.

He was home.

He was everything you had ever wanted and more.

Jay took your hands in his, bringing them to his lips and leaving a kiss on both of them, focusing in particular on your ring finger. His eyes shone like the ring’s stone at that moment and you looked at them mesmerized, thinking about how lucky you were to be able to do this all your life.

“We should go back there…” you murmured in a low voice, already sad for having to break that little bubble in which you took refuge even if not for a long time.

He snorted like a child but nodded. “I can't wait to have you all for myself.”

He intertwined his fingers with yours before unlocking the door and peeking out for a moment to see if anyone was nearby.

“Shit,” he muttered, immediately closing the door again when he saw a waiter walking down the hall holding an empty tray.

You let out a laugh when you saw his expression and he covered your mouth with his hand. “Shh, they'll hear us.”

“Baby we were fucking against the wall ten minutes ago, I'd say we're a little late for that don’t you think?” you whispered back, taking his hand away and looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

He playfully rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah whatever. Now kiss me.”

Before you could say anything he pulled you towards him by your hips, pressing his lips on yours. His body was pressed against the door and yours against his, your arms around his neck and his around your waist as his hands slid on your ass while you made out like teenagers hiding from your own parents.

“I'll never get tired of kissing you, it'll never be enough,” he whispered against your lips, nibbling and sucking your lower lip, making you sigh.

“I know what you're doing, stop it. Until proven otherwise it's still our wedding and we have to celebrate it,” you admonished him, dropping your hands to his chest and slightly pushing yourself away from him. You got a sound of disappointment in response, just what a child would do.

“You know what’s a great way to celebrate? Having sex. C'mon baby, come here.” He tried to put his hands on your hips again but you took a step back, crossing your arms over your chest in mock disappointment.

“We have a whole life to have wild sex. You don’t want to celebrate your wedding with your wife?”.

“Drop the act baby, I’m not falling for it,” he boop your nose with his index finger, a gesture that immediately made you smile even though you tried so hard to hold it back. “Of course I want to celebrate with you, that's not what I meant. This is the best day of my life.”

He chuckled before grabbing your hand and moving away from the door. He opened it again and like a few moments before, he checked no one was coming. When he realized that no one was passing by at that moment, you both left the storage room and he closed the door behind you.

You both smoothed your dress even though it was totally useless, anyone from a mile away could tell you had some hot sex just some moments before.

But you didn't care, it was your day, yours and Jay's and damn, you were free to do whatever you wanted even if it meant sneaking out of your own party to have sex in a storage room.

Okay, it wasn't a very proper thing to do but what could you say, all couples consummated their marriage on their wedding night, you and Jay had just rushed things along.

So you walked hand in hand with your fingers intertwined towards the wedding reception, both of you with a stupid and joyful smile on your faces and happy as you had never been, ready to get drunk and finally start your life together.

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mercurygguk · 1 year

Text

if it’s not you · kth (m)

↳ summary; Kim Taehyung grew up watching his parents fall more in love for each day that passed and he always longed for that great, passionate love himself. But if it’s not you? Then he doesn’t want it.

pairing; taehyung x f. reader

word count; 8,582

rating; 18+

content; exes to lovers!au, smut/angst, a bit of fluff

warnings; making out, dirty talk, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), hand job, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cream pie, possessive/jealous and slightly insecure taetae <3

chapters. part one | part two

↳ listen to the playlist here.

author’s note; it’s here!!!! the taehyung fic i’ve been wanting to write for SO long ughhhdjsk i really hope you like it and that you enjoy it despite all the hurt and angst heh – please let me know what you think! comment, reblog, send me an ask – whatever you feel most comfortable with!! everything is greatly appreciated <3 thank you sm for reading muah

ps. a big thank you to @kookingtae once again for beta-ing for me and for helping me brainstorm for the smut scene <33 ur the best ily thank you for your support and help!

Kim Taehyung is not sad.

Sadness is not what he feels when he goes out with his friends and spots two people all over each other, happy and in love. Sadness is not what he feels when he sits at home, watching a movie by himself. Sadness is not what he feels when his friends tell him they’re engaged and are having an engagement party to celebrate.

No, Kim Taehyung is way past sadness.

If anything, what he feels is most likely something more akin to a feeling called ‘I don’t care anymore’... a certain, unexplainable emptiness. He doesn’t care that everyone around him is falling in love and getting engaged, he doesn’t care if two strangers are all over each other when he’s at a bar. He doesn’t care that all of his one-night-stands give him a nasty look when he tells them to leave in the middle of the night after having emotionless – I don’t care who you are or what your name is – sex with them.

Taehyung just doesn't care anymore. Or that’s what he thought, at least.

He thought that he wouldn’t give two shits when he saw you walk through the door, arriving at the engagement party his friends are currently throwing. He also thought that he wouldn’t care that some unknown guy was trailing right behind you, his hand tightly wrapped around yours.

But Taehyung should’ve known better.

He should’ve known his mind would play tricks on him and pull up flashbacks to the day he lost all belief in love.

Two years ago…

“Kiss me,” he pleaded, voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. He begged you, the unsteady tone of his voice giving away that he was on the brink of breaking down if you didn’t connect your lips with his within the next few seconds. He was desperate, breathing heavily as he tried his best to keep the tears from welling in his eyes.

The last few weeks had been absolute hell. The apartment has been empty beyond measure, most of your stuff gone by now. You haven’t been in the apartment since the day you left and the only reason you were back tonight was because you forgot a few things. Taehyung knew you’d come, you had texted him to let him know just so that you wouldn’t be barging in on him at a random hour. One thing he didn’t realize though when you texted him was how much he genuinely hated all of this until you stood in front of him with a small, sad-looking smile on your face.

How you ended up in the bedroom, cuddling and now almost kissing, was unbeknownst to him and you as well. Taehyung had been sitting on the edge of the bed, watching as you packed your remaining things in utter silence. When you were finished and wanted to give him one last goodbye hug, he had made the first move to urge you onto the bed with him. It’s not that he had bad intentions with it. He just needed to hold you one last time before you’d move on for good. Cuddles then turned into him pulling you on top of him to straddle his waist, begging and pleading for you to kiss him.

“Taehyung…” You softly let his name fall from your lips in a sigh as you looked down at him from your straddling position on top of him, “we shouldn’t-”

“Please, ____,” he tried again with pain laced in his words, sitting up with you still perched on his lap, “please, just kiss me.”

[end of flashback]

Two years since he last saw you and talked to you. Two years of losing every ounce of belief he had in ‘the great love’ of life. Why continue to look for love when he already had the love of his life and lost her?

In Taehyung’s head, there was no reason to look for love when the person he loved more than life itself left him with only half a heart to live by two years ago. Even if he wanted to find another great love, it simply wouldn’t be possible. He lives with only half of his heart and you can’t love someone with just half a heart.

Not when someone else has the other half.

“Hey, isn’t that ____?”

Taehyung is pulled from his thoughts by Jimin, his best friend since high school and the only person who would be able to recognize his ex-girlfriend from miles away – even after two years have gone by.

“Yep,” Taehyung curtly replies and brings his drink to his lips, taking a long sip. The heavy, dark taste of whiskey burns his throat on the way down but he welcomes it, suddenly in desperate need of feeling something that isn’t the tug on the strings of his half heart.

Jimin’s face scrunches up in confusion, “who’s the guy?”

I don’t know, Jimin. Does it look like I’ve stayed in touch with her since she walked out on me? Do you think she’d be across the room, in another man’s embrace, if I had stayed in touch with her?

Instead of saying that, Taehyung shrugs ‘carelessly’ and takes another sip of his drink, eyes following you as you and your date move towards the newly-engaged couple.

He can’t take his eyes off you.

You look so different and yet the exact same.

Every move of your body and expression on your face twist in the most beautiful, hypnotizing way as always. Your hair is shorter, he notices, but it suits you. You’re glowing from across the room and your smile lights up the entire apartment when you throw your head back in laughter.

It travels across the room and reaches Taehyung’s ears, cutting straight through the music flowing from the stereo. The pretty sound causes his chest to fill with a familiar warmth. Except this time it isn’t him who’s on the receiving end of your smile and gentle touch; your date is. As much as it bothers him, Taehyung can’t stop watching you as you talk with the hosts, wishing them congratulations on their engagement, and handing them the gift you brought along. And then you introduce the man next to you, a bright smile on your face as you watch them shake hands.

Something vile rises within Taehyung at the sight. He knows he has no right to feel like this but something about the way you’re introducing this random guy to you and Taehyung’s shared friends doesn’t sit right with him. It used to be you and him, attending every get-together together. You always arrived hand in hand, all smiles and good vibes because nothing could stop the two of you from touching each other, from being attached at all times – from being in love.

“Jia didn’t mention anything about a new boyfriend,” Jimin mutters from next to Taehyung. The annoyed glare he shoots at his best friend causes Jimin to shrug innocently, “I mean – I think, of all people, she would know if ____ was seeing someone.”

Jia is a shared friend between you and Jimin. While Jia is one of your best friends, Jia and Jimin are more than friends but not quite enough to be considered a couple. They will get there eventually – Jimin just needs to get his head out of his own ass and ask the poor girl on a date instead of only showing up at her doorstep for some fun in bed. Jia is waiting patiently for him to make the next move but Jimin isn’t that smart when it comes to serious relationships.

“Don’t you have something else to do rather than talking my ear off about my ex and her date?”

The bitterness on Taehyung’s tongue feels odd but he can’t help it. He hasn’t seen you once in two years after you left that night and now you’re here, looking beautiful as ever with another man by your side.

Jealousy has never been something Taehyung cared much for. He never had a reason to but as you let your date wrap an arm around your waist to pull you closer, the jealousy washes away every rational thought he’s had since he saw you walk through the door.

Jimin mumbles something under his breath before he disappears from Taehyung’s side, leaving him to stand there while rolling the glass of whiskey in his hand, dark and glaring eyes shooting daggers at the man you brought along tonight.

However, it seems his glare from across the room also grazes you as you turn your head to look around. Taehyung’s breath hitches in his throat when your eyes meet his and he can tell you let out a gasp once you realize just who exactly you’re locking eyes with. Your date asks you if something’s wrong and you shake your head in response, telling him it’s nothing.

Taehyung’s body heats up with a familiar tingling feeling that feels all too normal and yet it’s a strange sensation. He hasn’t felt what he just felt in two years, the different women he’s slept with or been out with have never once caused warmth and excitement to spread through his entire body as the ones he just felt. Not a single woman has managed to trigger Taehyung’s interest in more than just a one-night-stand.

But, of course, it’s you.

Who else would light a fire in his soul but the same woman who blew it out a few years ago?

The irony almost makes Taehyung huff out an unimpressed chuckle. He fights it and pushes it back but it's no use as you decide to raise your hand and give him a small wave, a hesitant smile on your lips as you do. Taehyung lets the chuckle leave him, shaking his head in disbelief, watching your smile falter into a soft frown.

You left him.

You walked out of the door two years ago and dropped off earth’s surface until tonight. Taehyung only knew you were alive and well thanks to social media and your circle of shared friends, not that it was much help. His so-called friends weren't very cooperative every time he’d ask about you. Especially when he would visit Jimin and Jia would be there – that woman kept all the news about you behind locked lips whenever Taehyung was around.

So, when it really comes down to it, Taehyung has no idea what you've been doing for two years. All he knows is that you went overseas to live and work there, making the distance between you and him bigger than he’d expected when he watched you walk out of the home you once shared. Taehyung doesn’t understand why you bolted out of the country as soon as you could – what you went looking for, he doesn’t know. Probably no one knows – except for your parents maybe.

All Taehyung is hoping for is that he wasn’t the reason.

Thoughts like ‘how long have you been seeing this guy’ and ‘did you even think about me once while you were overseas, living a brand new life’ fill Taehyung’s head as he downs the rest of his drink. He steals one last glance at you, catching your eyes for a split-second before heading towards the kitchen of this penthouse apartment he currently finds himself in. He can feel your eyes on him as he slips his way through other guests but he keeps his own eyes focused on the whiskey bottle he spots on the kitchen island.

Once he reaches it, he uncaps it and pours himself another glass. He takes a swig of the brown liquor, sighing deeply as he feels the strong and burning sensation in his throat.

“Slow down there, tiger.”

Taehyung freezes in his spot, his glass of whiskey halfway to his lips to take another slurp when a familiar voice fills the kitchen. His chest tightens for a split-second before he turns around to face the person he’s been thinking about non-stop since she left.

You’re flashing a smile at him when he turns around, one that doesn’t really reach your eyes as your real smile would. He notices because he always notices. It’s one of the many things you can’t hide from him. No matter how much you try to plaster on a fake smile, he’ll always know when it’s real or not.

When he doesn’t reply to your teasing comment, you pull your lips into a thin line as you cautiously step closer.

He can’t stop staring at you.

When you left your shared home two years ago on the worst night of Taehyung’s life, he had no idea when he would see you again. Back then he had hoped you’d regret your choice of moving out and come back to him, tell him that you made a mistake, that not being with him was the only thing you couldn’t get yourself to do.

But it never happened – and two years passed.

“How have you been?” You ask, voice small and careful as if you’re afraid he’ll scream at you and throw all his pent up anger at you as the first thing.

Taehyung finally manages to take his eyes off you, shifting them to look at the glass of whiskey in his hand. He swirls the liquid around a few times before looking up again, a faint and slightly sad smile on his face.

“Okay,” he responds. “Given the circumstances, that is.”

He can tell that you know exactly what he means, the frown on your face giving it away. It makes a short chuckle leave his lips because it’s kind of comical how you haven’t seen each other in two years and the first time you meet again is at an engagement party – the type of party you were both so sure you’d throw sooner or later had it not been for the fact that the universe wanted it differently.

“You brought a date,” Taehyung breaks the silence hanging over you.

Your lips part in surprise. You did not expect your ex-boyfriend to ask about your date, but then again, you should’ve seen it coming.

“Uh, yeah, he’s–” you begin, not sure what or where to start. Taehyung watches you intently, curious to hear your response. You feel a strong urge to explain yourself to him, why you don’t know. “It’s nothing serious– it’s very new, so…”

“I see,” Taehyung hums and takes another sip of his whiskey, the alcohol still burning and strong on his tongue.

“Hey, about–,” you begin but the shake of Taehyung’s head causes you to stay quiet.

“We don’t have to do that,” he simply says. You frown deeply as he glances over your shoulder at your date. “I’m over it and it seems you are too.”

“But–”

“It’s good to see you again, ____.”

With that Taehyung grabs the half empty bottle of whiskey off the table and leaves the kitchen, a breath of relief escaping him. It’s gonna take a lot of alcohol to get through tonight with you being in the same room, so close yet so far – not his to touch or hold, the only thing that is his are the memories of doing exactly that in the past.

And nothing has ever left a more bitter taste in his mouth before.

As the party carries on, Taehyung has been drinking more whiskey. He’s not drunk per say but he’s definitely tipsy and it shows as he stands in a corner alongside Jimin and Namjoon. He’s not paying attention to their conversation, too busy watching you and your date mingling.

Taehyung is not much for admitting it but he’s been keeping an eye on your date all night, watching how he acts around you. He’s not afraid to touch you, that’s for sure, the constant placement of his hand on your lower back is a giveaway. However, he hasn’t seen the two of you kiss or anything of the sort ever since you arrived. It’s odd because, of all people, Taehyung knows that you’re not one to shy away from PDA. You were never big on it but you never despised it either.

“Tae, stop staring,” Jimin’s voice penetrates his focused thoughts. Taehyung tears his eyes from you to look at his best friend. Jimin gives him a look, one he can’t help but laugh at. Taehyung pushes himself up from his leaning position against the wall, standing to his full height. Jimin grabs his arm. “I’m serious, whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

“Relax,” Taehyung smirks. “I’m just gonna introduce myself, that’s it.”

Namjoon shakes his head, taking a sip of his drink, “sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Exactly,” Jimin pointedly agrees with him. “Don’t ruin it.”

Taehyung shrugs off Jimin’s hand, shooting his friends a glare, “I’m not gonna ruin anything.”

Before his friends can try and talk him out of it again, he wanders off towards you and your date – a dark-haired guy who seems friendly, boring even, and nothing like the type of guy Taehyung had imagined you’d go for.

You don’t notice Taehyung’s presence until he’s standing right next to you, offering a hand to your date. Your eyes widen in surprise, eyes shifting between your ex-boyfriend, his offered hand and your date for the night. You can’t help the small sliver of panic within your chest as you watch them interact.

“Hey man, I don’t think we’ve met before,” he greets him, “I’m Taehyung.”

“Jinyoung,” your date replies, giving Taehyung’s hand a weak shake without much thought. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Taehyung smirks, eyeing Jinyoung up and down for a moment, wondering where on earth you managed to run into this guy and why you thought of bringing him to your friends’ engagement party. The majority of the people here know you and once this guy isn’t part of your life anymore, you’ll spend your energy explaining why at the next event.

“Taehyung is, um…” You begin, turning to Jinyoung to provide some information as to why he would suddenly come over and introduce himself like this. “He’s my, uh–”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Taehyung finishes for you. He watches in satisfaction as Jinyoung’s eyes widen in surprise, the faint hints of intimidation evident in them. “We broke up two years ago.”

“Oh, well, I had no idea there was an… ex-boyfriend,” Jinyoung trails off, glancing at you in confusion.

Your attention, however, is aimed at Taehyung, “Tae, can we talk–”

“Did you know ____ fled the country after breaking up with me?” Taehyung lets out a sarcastic laugh, watching how Jinyoung almost squirms in discomfort. Bet he didn’t sign up for a meeting with the ex-boyfriend when he said yes to join you tonight. “Is that where she met you or?”

Your jaw tightens as you place a hand on Taehyung’s arm, catching his attention. He glances at your hand and then you, eyes meeting yours. He notices the desperation in them, the grip you have on his arm.

“Can I talk to you under four eyes? Now, please.”

He smiles at you, a tipsy smile but endearing nonetheless.

“Absolutely,” he tells you before glancing back at Jinyoung. “If you’ll excuse us for a moment.”

Jinyoung looks confused and awkward as Taehyung flashes him a fake smile before allowing himself to be dragged away by you. It isn’t until you’re in a secluded corner of your friends’ penthouse, you let go of his arm. Taehyung leans against the wall, a small smirk on his face as you stare at him for a moment before your face morphs into disbelief.

“What the hell was that all about?”

He shrugs, “I was just introducing myself.”

You let out a chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest, “oh, is that what it was? How silly of me to think you were trying to measure your dick with his!”

He huffs out a scoff, rolling his eyes, “oh, sweetheart, I don’t have to and you know it.”

Your mouth falls open at his cocky behavior. Whoever this man in front of you is, you don’t know him. He is not the man you broke up with two years ago, he’s not even a shadow of the man you were hopelessly in love with once.

Taehyung watches your expression fall as if realization hits you square in the face. His ego covers it up perfectly but it hurts seeing the realization on your face, his heart sinking to his stomach as he realizes himself what you just realized –neither of you are the same people you were two years ago. And for some reason that realization hurts more than he thought it would because change is supposed to be good, right?

“Maybe breaking up with you wasn’t a mistake after all,” you tell him, eyes filled with disappointment and hurt. Taehyung frowns as the words leave your lips. “You’re an asshole.”

“____, I–”

You shake your head before turning on your heel, heading back to Jinyoung who’s been watching the two of you with worried eyes. Taehyung catches Jinyoung’s gaze over your shoulder, the judgemental look he shoots at him bruising his ego. However, the sight of your hand slipping into Jinyoung’s bruises his heart as he watches you and your date bid the engaged couple goodbye before leaving the penthouse.

Hand in hand.

Loud knocking wakes Taehyung up the following morning. He squints an eye open, the bright light coming from the morning sun hitting him straight in the face. He lets out a low groan, dropping his head back into the softness of his pillows. He forgot to pull the curtains when he came home last night. It happens too often after a night out – a bad habit, really.

The knocking disappears for a moment before it returns, more persistent this time around. With a sigh, Taehyung gets himself out of bed, slipping on a t-shirt and sweatpants before sauntering towards his front door.

Who in the world could be rapping their knuckles on his door this early on a sunday morning?

He glances towards the kitchen, eyes squinting to read the red numbers on the oven. His eyebrows lift in surprise. It’s not morning anymore, it’s past noon and someone is very persistent on the other side of the door. Once he reaches the door, he sneaks a peek through the peephole, breath hitching in his throat when he realizes who’s on the other side. His forehead connects with the surface of the door as a low ‘fuck’ leaves his lips.

Inhaling sharply, he grabs the door handle and pulls the door open.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

Taehyung sees no point in greeting you first, the question flying from his mouth before he can process it properly. He’s surprised to see you on his doorstep after what happened at the engagement party last night. When he came home and plopped into his bed, he had been thinking about whether or not he should seek you out to talk things through. He never got the chance to think further about it before sleep overtook and pulled him under.

“We need to talk,” you tell him, pushing past him, shoulder bumping his.

Taehyung closes the door after you before following you further into his home. You stand by his bookshelf, several feet away from him. He watches you as you look around, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants to keep them from feeling restless.

“How do you know where I live?” He decides to ask after a moment of intense silence.

You turn to face him from your new spot by the big window, the view from it being of a park with endless rows of trees and bushes, the colors of them ranging from green to brown to orange to yellow.

“Jimin told me,” you tell him, “but that’s not important – what the hell was your problem last night?”

Taehyung shrugs, “nothing… I was just introducing myself.”

A sarcastic laugh escapes your pretty lips, a look of amusement on your face.

“Bullshit, Tae,” you protest. “We haven’t seen each other in two years and you pull a stunt like that? It’s not like you.”

He can’t help but scoff.

Not like him?

It’s not like him to spend two years watching women come and go in his home. It’s not like him to let the woman he loves leave him and not do shit about it for two years. It’s not like him to not care about love at all. It’s not like him to lose all faith and belief in the great love of his life but he did and it’s your fault. You made him what he is today. You up and left, leaving him because ‘things weren’t the way they used to be’. He accepted what you wanted because you were so certain that was what you wanted at the time. He shouldn’t have but he did because he loved you and he’d rather love you from a distance than keep you in a place that didn’t make you happy.

Blaming you isn’t right but it’s always easier to blame someone else than yourself.

“I pulled a stunt?” The anger that’s starting to boil within him laces within his voice as he moves closer. Your eyes are locked with his as he slowly moves across the room, nearing you. “You’re the one who brought a fucking date, _____! You knew I would be there and yet you thought ‘hey, let me bring a date and introduce him to everyone there while my ex is in the same fucking room’!”

You let out a frustrated groan.

“It’s been two years, Taehyung! For all I know, you could’ve brought someone too!”

The frustration is seeping through his veins as he steps closer, only a few feet from you at this point. You’re close and he can touch you if he just reaches his hands out to you but you’ve never felt farther away. Had he known two years ago that it would come to this, he wouldn’t have let you walk out of the door that night. He would’ve fought for you, told you that you would figure things out together. That he would do his utmost best to make you happy – no matter the sacrifices he would have to make.

“Do you know how fucking miserable I’ve been for the past two years? Do you know how many times I’ve asked about you only to get no answers from anyone?”

The guilt is evident on your face as he takes the risk and steps even closer. He can feel the warmth radiating off your body now, the close proximity doing nothing to calm his thundering heart.

“Have you ever, just for a second, thought about how fucking hard it’s been after you left and fled the fucking country?”

You let out a shaky breath, “I didn’t–”

Taehyung can’t fight the dry laugh leaving him, “I begged you to stay, ____. I was begging you but you left anyway and for what?”

He watches as you shrug helplessly, mouth opening and closing while you try to decipher what to say, how to explain. He would appreciate an explanation – ‘things aren’t the way they used to be’ isn’t enough anymore.

“I… I had some stuff I needed to figure out,” you mutter.

“We could’ve figured it out together!” He argues, hands thrown out in pure frustration.

The shake of your head has Taehyung frowning deeply. You look away, unable to watch the way his face falls as the words leave your lips, “I couldn’t love you the way you deserved. I had to leave. It was what was best for us back then–”

“No,” he mutters, voice soft and filled with sorrow, “you don’t get to decide what’s best for me.”

You feel him step back, taking his warmth with him. He sits down on the couch, running a hand through his hair as an exasperated sigh leaves his chest. You cross your arms over your chest; the act doing nothing to comfort yourself but doing enough to keep yourself warm after he removed himself from right in front of you.

Unsure, what to do, you sit down on the window pane, watching the man you used to be inseparable from. He looks tired and not because you forced him out of bed by knocking on his door. He looks like the past two years have been nothing but hell for him – and you believe it. Leaving him was one of the hardest things you’ve ever done but it was necessary in order to find yourself.

“I didn’t tell you everything,” you quietly tell him, eyes dropping to look at the wooden floor instead of him.

You feel his eyes on you, heavy and filled with longing, hurt and love.

“I knew you’d never let me go if I told you everything,” you continue when he stays silent. “I lost myself, Tae… And I knew as long as I wasn’t at peace with myself, I wouldn’t be able to love you the way you deserved.”

You take a chance and look up, your eyes meeting his in an instant. You feel your heart skip a beat, a pain so strong it’s almost unbearable shooting through your body. Taehyung’s eyes are glossy as he watches you make your way to where he sits on the couch. You kneel in front of him, your hands finding his in a weak attempt to comfort him but you know nothing could possibly remove the two years of pain and anger he’s been through.

He stays quiet, eyes skimming your face as you sit in front of him.

“Leaving you is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” you softly tell him and feel a tightness in your throat. You bite back the tears but your voice betrays you as you speak up again. “And while… While trying to figure my shit out, I realized that you and I–”

Taehyung’s hands engulf yours, fingers slipping through yours to intertwine them. Pain is etched onto his face as you sniffle, one of his hands reaching up to wipe away the one teardrop that managed to escape just now.

“I realized that you and I were the only thing in my life that actually made sense but it was too late.”

“Baby…” Taehyung begins, the nickname leaving him before he can think about it and the appropriateness of it.

You shake your head, “I left you, Tae. I left and, like you said, I fled the country like a coward when all I had to do was talk to the people around me and find another way.”

The tears won’t stop coming at this point and it’s then Taehyung realizes that it was never about him. It has always been about you and how you felt; not your feelings for him but for yourself. If only you had talked to him, reached out to him and asked for help – he would’ve stepped in and done whatever it would take to make you happy again.

“I’m really sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you,” you cry, the sheer realization of just how much unnecessary pain you’ve caused him seems like the worst thing you ever could’ve done. You hurt the man you love and now it’s hurting you – well-deserved one might say. “God, you must hate me so much.”

“No, hey,” Taehyung calls softly, cupping your face and wiping your tears away. You look up at him, tear-filled eyes meeting his glossy ones. He smiles at you through the build-up tears in his dark brown eyes. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

“But–”

He shakes his head, “sure, I’m pissed at you for leaving. But I could never hate you, _____.”

The way he says it with such tenderness and softness makes your bottom lip quiver, fresh tears coming to the surface but it’s not an issue – Taehyung wipes them away with the pads of his thumbs, smiling softly at you. Why he’s comforting you rather than kicking you out of his home is a mystery to you, one you probably won’t ever solve. But you’ll take it, the feeling of his hands touching you again similar to the feeling of finally drinking water again after spending days in the desert. Or when you finally get to sleep after a really, really long and stressful day.

Comforting. Healing. Loving.

“I’m sorry,” you softly say, voice so quiet and soft as if the atmosphere would break into a million pieces if you spoke any louder. Your heart is beating hard, thundering at 110 miles per hour. Taehyung is leaning closer, a magnetic pull between him and you causing him to do so. It’s impossible to stay away, especially after you sat down in front of him.

Taehyung huffs out a soft chuckle, the air brushing your lips. He whispers, “stop apologizing.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, causing Taehyung to let another chuckle escape before softly, carefully pressing his lips to yours.

The world stops spinning and your heart stops beating for a second, the feeling of Taehyung’s lips on yours so familiar you might start crying again. It’s like returning home after years of chaotic traveling, the familiarity of it so comforting and perfect. You sigh deeply, melting against him, hands gripping his forearms as if to support yourself. Then a soft moan escapes you and Taehyung tilts his head to deepen the kiss, tongue brushing your bottom lip before slipping inside and touching yours, warm and wet and so addicting.

In need of more, you get up and push him back on the couch. He welcomes you onto his lap, pulling you closer, hands gripping your waist tightly, fingertips digging into your sides. The kisses you share are soft, passionate, and filled with words and affection you’ve kept inside for two years. Things you never got to say and affection you never got to show – all of it being poured into the kisses, deep and scorching hot.

Your arms lock around his neck, pulling him so close your noses are squishes together. He moans against your lips when your hips sink down on him, grinding against him. He feels himself grow harder, blood rushing to his cock in seconds as you continue your movements.

“Tae…” You whimper softly when his hands slide underneath your top, warm palms sliding over the expanse of your back, nails digging into your skin. “Need you– please…”

In reality, you’re not his to touch and kiss. You haven’t been for two years. When this weekend is over, you’ll both go back to your everyday lives, return to reality – realities where neither of you are in each other’s.

“What about Jinyoung?” Taehyung can’t help but ask, pulling away just enough to look you in the eyes.

“He went back home this morning,” you tell him, your words causing a sliver of hope to appear in Taehyung’s chest. You smile softly, fingers playing with the curly strands of black hair at the back of his neck. You shrug with a sigh, “he asked about us, I told him the truth. He left.”

“What truth?”

The question is careful but Taehyung needs to know.

“That I’m still in love with you,” you quietly admit.

If you can’t feel the harsh beating of Taehyung’s heart, you surely must be able to hear it. It’s pounding against his rib cage, making it hard for him to breathe as he stares at you. A million thoughts are running through his mind but the only thing he can focus on is the overwhelming urge to kiss you like the world is ending, worship you and make up for lost time.

“I don’t blame you if you can’t forgive me for what I did,” you softly say. “But I hope you’ll give me a chance to-“

Taehyung cuts you off by crashing his mouth to yours; desperate, needy, eager and rushed. A whimpering moan escapes you and travels into his mouth, goosebumps rising upon his skin at the pretty sound.

“I forgive you,” he says between kisses as he pushes your jacket off your shoulders. You help him get rid of it, lips never leaving his as you continue to kiss. You have two years to catch up on – two years equals a lot of kisses and a lot of making love. You inhale deeply when he pulls away, hand gripping your jaw to make you look at him. His eyes stare into yours, dark and filled with so many emotions you can barely keep track. “Don’t make me regret it.”

You shake your head, “I won’t. I promise.”

“Good,” he whispers before pulling you back in for more, unable to stop for long.

The next clothing items to go are your top and his t-shirt as you tug it up and over his head, throwing it to the floor along with your jacket. Taehyung lets out a breathless moan against your mouth when you slide your hands up his abdomen, fingertips brushing over his chest and nipples. He groans as your nails dig into his skin, hands tightly gripping onto your thighs in a wordless response.

“Lay down,” he tells you, voice raspy from making out.

With one last soft kiss to his lips, you do as told. You lay down on the couch, watching him as he gets up on his feet, getting rid of his sweatpants. His eyes roam your body, grazing your skin and curves, taking it all in while feeling a wave of memories washing over him. It brings a feeling he can’t quite pinpoint to his chest, heart tightening as you offer him a soft smile.

Home.

That’s what he feels.

He finally feels at home again after two years of feeling like he didn’t belong in this new apartment of his; an apartment he found a few months after you left. He couldn’t stand being in the one you used to share because it didn’t feel like a home anymore. It’s when you sit up on the couch, your hand reaching for his to bring him back to you, that he realizes that no place will ever feel like home unless you’re there.

You’re his home – he belongs with you.

And you belong with him.

“Come back to me,” you whisper softly when he crawls onto the couch, hovering over you. His eyes shift between yours, three words he hasn’t said out loud to anyone but you at the tip of his tongue. “Tae…–”

“I love you.”

Your words get trapped in your throat, heart beating wildly in your chest as the three magical words bring a new kind of warmth to your entire body.

“I love you too.”

The rest is a blur – the way he kisses you deeply and passionately like it’s the last time, the sound of your pretty moans reaching his ears like a melody he’ll never get tired of, the feeling of his hands on your body, caressing you, taking you in and remembering everything about you; every dip and curve of your body. Every uneven texture of your skin, every dimple and small spot that makes you you.

“You’re mine,” he rasps against your chest as he trails it with kisses, your bra no longer covering you, giving him free access to all of you. His lips brush your nipple, another delicate moan escaping your lips at the feeling. “You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?”

“Yes– Oh my god,” You gasp, surprise shooting through you as he wraps his lips around a nipple, sucking. Your back arches into him as one of his hands cups the other breast, squeezing and caressing it in the most caring way possible.

That’s the thing about Taehyung – he can be rough both verbally and physically but he knows how you like it and he never strays far away from it. He’ll caress your body and worship it like you’re a goddess while arousing you with his words, dirty words falling from his lips without a struggle. It’s the perfect mix of everything; the best of both worlds basically.

You whimper softly when he tugs at your nipple with his teeth before letting go, leaving it wet and swollen as he moves further down your naked body. Your legs spread automatically when he reaches your core, his mouth hovering above your heat as he glances up at you. A small smirk spreads across his face as he watches you run your hands over your stomach and all the way up to cup your own breasts. You bite your lip, eyes closed as you await his touch.

“Tell me, baby,” he hums, leaving a soft kiss on your hip bone. “Did you miss this?”

You hum in response, fingers pinching your nipples as you feel his breath on your core.

“Words,” he reminds you, “I need your words.”

Your eyes peep open to glance down at him, the sight of him between your legs, messy and curly hair and swollen, plump lips twisted into a teasing smirk enough to cause you to let out a soft moan.

“Yes,” you tell him, breathlessly. “I missed you, missed your touch– please, Tae…”

The sound of you begging for him to touch you causes a feeling of pride to fill his entire body, the smirk on his face turning into a grin. He hums in satisfaction, leaning down to press a soft, careful kiss to your folds. You whimper softly, the hints of whine following.

“I’ll be honest,” the air from his words brushes your soaked core, a shiver running through your body. His hands tighten around your thighs as he brings them over his shoulders to pull you closer to his face. “I missed having you like this, too.”

Before you can even think of a response to his confession, his mouth is on you. You gasp in surprise, hands reaching for him to grab his hair, the couch, his hand – anything. Taehyung offers one of his hands, locking it with yours. Your fingers slip between his, your grip tight as he eats you out, his tongue licking your folds. You’re whimpering above him, the feeling of his tongue flicking your clit over and over again before he sucks it causing your moans to become higher and more whiny as he works you closer to the edge.

“Fuck,” you cry, thighs trembling as you feel your orgasm coming. Taehyung keeps your legs spread open with his free hand, his grip on you so strong you’re unable to escape the overwhelming feeling of an orgasm. “Tae, I’m close– fuckfuckfuck–”

An immense wave of pleasure washes over you, a guttural moan leaving your pretty lips as you tumble over the edge, abdomen tightening as you come. Taehyung moans against you as he continues to help you through it, licking up your juices, the slurping noises lewd and explicit enough to bring a heat to your face.

You’re trying to catch your breath, a smile on your face as Taehyung crawls back up. You sigh deeply as he leans down and presses a row of kisses onto your jaw and cheek, one of his hands sliding up your thigh.

“You feeling okay?” He asks, face inches from yours as his eyes meet yours.

You nod, smiling, “I feel great.”

He smiles softly as he leans down, connecting his mouth with yours. You’re able to taste yourself on his tongue as it brushes yours, the taste arousing and dirty but so hot, you might lose your mind.

“Wanna be inside you,” he groans as he grinds against you, the only thing keeping him from slipping inside being his boxers. His cock twitches in its confinements, eager to be let free, eager to be buried deeply within your warmth. “Wanna make love to you, baby– show you how much I’ve missed you…”

“Do it, Tae,” you urge him on, hands reaching for the waistband of his boxers, “show me.”

With his help, you manage to free his hard cock, his boxers ending up on the floor with the rest of your discarded clothes. Your hand wraps around his length, a soft groan escaping his lips as he drops his head to your shoulder. You pump him a few times before guiding the tip to your entrance, softly gasping when you feel it nested between your folds.

Taehyung takes over, replacing your hand with his own. Your arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer, lips catching his in a kiss. He takes this as his chance to slip inside, pushing against your entrance until he’s past your folds. You both moan against each other’s mouth as he sinks inside, the length and girth of him stretching you out. He moves slowly, sliding further inside inch after inch, carefully.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans once he bottoms out, every inch of him engulfed by your warm walls. His breathing is ragged as he stays still for a moment. “I’ll never get used to this.”

You smile at his comment, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Well, you better,” you tell him. “Because this time it’s forever.”

His heart skips a beat in his chest before he huffs out a strained laugh, the feeling of your walls tightening around him making it difficult for him to get words out.

“Is that a challenge or a promise?”

You shrug and smirks playfully, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth, “a challenging promise.”

He scoffs in amusement but doesn’t say anything in return. Instead he pulls out, leaving just the tip inside before thrusting back inside of you, hard and precise. The action leaves you gasping, back arching as he hits a sweet spot within you. He continues the action, pulling out and thrusting back in over and over again, fucking you hard but slow, his shaft brushing against your clit for every thrust.

“Fuck– feels good,” you whimper as he hooks a hand underneath your leg to change the angle of his thrusts. Your mouth falls open as he slides in even deeper, his tip hitting that sweet spot repeatedly.

“Yeah?” He watches you nod, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you suppress a moan. “Did he ever have you like this, huh? Did he ever make you feel like this?”

Taehyung knows expecting you to not have been with anyone since you broke up is a long stretch. The only thing that bothers him is if you’ve been with the one man he met and talked to last night. The thought of you and him together brings a bitter taste to his mouth and he just needs you to deny it.

The sudden possessive tone of his words has your heart beating faster. He doesn’t have to mention any name for you to know who he’s referring to. Like you said when you first talked to Taehyung at the party, you and Jinyoung’s relationship was nothing serious, very new and not intimate at all. You had barely kissed him properly – something held you back every time it would take a turn into something more.

The look in Taehyung’s eyes tells you he needs to know. He needs to know if you ever gave that part of yourself to Jinyoung.

“No,” you tell him, keeping eye contact as you answer him, hoping it’ll give him the peace of mind that he needs. Taehyung’s face softens as he lets his forehead drop to yours, his breath clashing against your face. You cup his face, thumbs brushing over his jawline where faint stubble is starting to appear. “He didn’t.”

The relief that runs through Taehyung’s body is evident in his kiss as he connects his mouth with yours, his free hand reaching up to grab one of yours. He intertwines your hands, bringing it above your head as he returns to the task at hand – getting you both to the edge.

The constant touch of his tip to a certain spot within you has you reaching another orgasm faster than you’re prepared for. It washes over you in huge waves, running through your body with such force your walls tighten around him. Taehyung moans deeply, his thrusts becoming uneven as he, too, reaches his high. Soft words of encouragement reach his ear as he drops his head to your shoulder. Your fingers slide into his thick, black hair while your other hand tightens its grip around his.

He lowly groans as he stills within you, spurts of hot and white cum painting your walls as he comes, “shit–”

Hours later you’re watching Taehyung’s fingers play with yours as he holds your hand up in the air, both of you watching it as a comfortable silence surrounds you. It’s nice – to be cuddled up with him again after so long. You didn’t realize just how much you had missed him until you saw him last night. But despite the blissful atmosphere, there’s still an underlying tension of something that you need to talk about. Whether it’s your guilt for leaving or his regret for not fighting more is unknown.

“I wish I could go back in time,” you suddenly break the silence.

“Why do you say that?”

Taehyung brings your hand down, intertwining them instead as he leaves them to lay on top of the blanket covering your naked bodies. You continue to stare at your intertwined hands, wondering how it’s possible to match so perfectly with someone only for you to leave for two years despite them being where you belong.

“I wish I could go back and do it differently.”

Taehyung stays quiet for a moment before speaking up, “you can’t change the past, baby.”

His voice is delicate and soft, comforting.

“I know,” you sigh. “I just hate that I caused you so much pain. It was unnecessary and uncalled for. I should’ve just talked to you about it instead.”

“I think a lot of things could’ve been avoided if we had just talked about it but like I said… You can’t change the past,” he carefully grabs your chin to make you look at him. “Besides, we found our way back, right? We got a second chance at this, at us. Let’s make the best of it, yeah?”

A smile spreads across your face as you lean up and kiss him, the kiss soft yet deep and filled with the things you still haven’t said; apologies, I love you’s, promises and everything in between.

Taehyung sighs deeply against your lips, cupping your face, “I missed kissing you.”

You can’t help but grin against his mouth, “keep doing it then.”

“Oh, I’m planning on it,” he tells you, a squeal escaping you as he rolls over, trapping you beneath him. He dips down and kisses you again, this time with more force and eagerness.

That great love in life that everyone keeps talking about is really not worth much if it’s not with the right person. Taehyung used to believe that there was only one true love for everyone. Two years ago, he lost all belief in that. There was no point in looking for that great, true love because he already had it and he lost it. And even if there is more than one true love for everyone, he wouldn’t want it if it’s not you.

It seems his beliefs have been restored.

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maidragoste · 1 year

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can you please make a Harwin Strong x reader where the reader and breakbones fall in love and get married but then the rumors about jace’s heritage start and Harwin admits cheating??? Thank you in advance

Harwin Strong x Velaryon!Reader

note: sorry for taking anon to make your request, and also for not following it completely. I hope you like it 🥰🥰

If you want a part two let me know because I already have ideas 👀

Part 2

reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🥰💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

"He is Prince Jacaerys Velaryon" announced your good sister proudly handing the baby to the king, you excitedly waited your turn to meet your nephew. The next to take the baby was the queen, you couldn't help but worry when you saw how the smile disappeared from her, you understood that your nephew had been healthy and without any deformity so you didn't understand why your friend's face suddenly seemed so concerned. It even seemed to you that Alicent was hesitating before passing the child to you.

And when you held Jacaerys in your arms, you understood why. All the emotion you felt disappeared the second you saw her brown locks on his little head. Your vision blurred and you began to blink to make any possible tears disappear. You weren't going to cry. You wouldn't make a scene. The existence of this child was humiliation enough. The boy was precious but you couldn't bear to see him anymore so you passed him on to your brother.

"Hopefully the next one looks more like Velaryon," you said with a fake smile and the room suddenly seemed cold. You were pleased to see Rhaenyra and Harwin tense up. "I suppose mother's Baratheon blood is stronger than we thought," you added, looking at Laenor. You also felt betrayed by your brother. You were sure that he also knew about your cousin and husband's affair and he was never able to tell you.

"It could also be Aemma's Arryn blood," Viserys said, and you wanted to laugh when he didn't seem to read the room. Or perhaps he preferred to feign ignorance before punishing his daughter for giving birth to a bastard.

•••••

“Is it yours?” was the first thing you said as soon as you were alone with your husband in their chambers. You didn't need to clarify what you were talking about. Harwin knew you were talking about Jacaerys.

The city guard commander thought through his answer. He didn't want to endanger the princess or his son, but from the look in your eyes he knew that if he lied to you, your reaction would be much worse. It was useless to lie to you because you already knew the truth. You knew it the first moment you saw the little prince.

"Yes," he replied "I'm sorry" He wasn't sorry about the birth of his child but he was sorry for hurting you.

You already knew the answer to your question, you just wanted to see if your husband was brave enough to admit his infidelity. You felt like such an idiot for not having seen it coming sooner…

Lie. You saw it coming only you were in denial and you turned a blind eye. You convinced yourself to believe Harwin's lies when he told you that he wouldn't come back to your chambers because he was on night watch even though you knew he couldn't have so many shifts in a row. You pretended not to hear the servants talk about the closeness between the commander of the city guard and Princess Rhaenyra. You ignored Larys and Alicent's concerns about those rumors. You ignored every red flag because you refused to believe it was true.

You had fallen in love with Harwin because he was a good man, he was attentive and loving and he made you laugh. In your head Harwin couldn't be hurting you and deceiving you in front of the whole court, your Harwin would never do that. Not the sweet man who had taken it upon himself to learn your family traditions for your wedding, not the man who whispered sweet words to you in the morning, not the man who looks like a happy puppy every time he sees you, not the man who From time to time he would bring you gifts after his patrols because according to him that bracelet or that ring reminded him of you… Not even when the princess got pregnant, he never made all those gestures or went to your bed. If he won't love you then he should have stopped doing all of that, unless he was only doing it to keep looking like a loving husband in your eyes.

"You love her?" You crossed your arms in an attempt to put on armor, you didn't want to show him how much his betrayal affected you.

You knew Harwin well and you knew he wouldn't cheat on you just for a one-night stand or just for passion. He wouldn't spoil his marriage just on the whim of the moment.

Harwin's eyes looked at you with deep sadness. He didn't want to hurt you even more but you deserved to know the truth "I love her" he admitted "I love both"

He wasn't lying. He still loved you, he could never stop loving the lovely girl he met as he helped her climb a tree to avoid a suitor. But her heart now also belonged to the princess, it had not been her intention to fall in love with her. After saving her from the incident of her wedding, he couldn't help but worry about her and he took notice of her as he seemed to have no one at court. He became close to a friend, he began to get to know what Rhaenyra was really like and he was captivated.

"Go to hell" you dug your nails into your arms, holding yourself back from punching him in the face "Now do you want to be like Aegon the Conqueror? Do you want to have two wives?" You sneered "From now on you will spend one night with me and ten with her?" you snorted.

Harwin took one of your hands and held it pressed over her heart so you could feel her heartbeat "I really love you both."

"It doesn't matter, because you already lost me" you let go of her grip and your husband looked at you with pain. At another time you would have felt sorry for him but now all you felt was pure resentment. "Please, go back to your princess and leave me alone"

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roomsofangel · 18 days

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LOVER, PLEASE STAY. . .

chapter two

synopsis you and wooyoung have been best friends for as long as you could remember, always overcoming everything in your friendship even after a few bumps in the road and confessions in the past. you could always trust that no matter wooyoung will always be there, right?

wc 1.9k

chapter warnings scene where wooyoung is intoxicated but its only mentioned, he’s asleep through most of that scene tbh.

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there was certainly subtle signs, you realized in retrospect, that you had simply been oblivious to. little things, perhaps, that seemed harmless at the time, but were in fact an ominous portent of what was to come. and then, the massive punch to the jaw which would knock you into reality. it was as if all the warning signs you had missed were glaring out at you now. you had to accept the truth, the cold harsh truth that jung wooyoung was no longer someone that you could call at two in the morning just because you needed a voice

jung wooyoung was no longer the one you could listen to for hours on end, and not get bored. he was no longer intertwined with you.

and you were afraid. you were completely and utterly afraid more than anything your mind could fully comprehend at that moment. wooyoung was all you knew, all you wanted to know, and this sudden revelation threatened to overwhelm you with fear. the possibility of losing him was insurmountable. you desperately wanted to cling to his every word, latching onto the hope that somehow this would all turn out alright.

but deep down, you knew better.

you weren’t sure why you stayed.

seonghwa breathed a sigh of relief when he opened the door and saw you standing there. “finally, you're here,” he said, his relief evident in his voice. “he’s on the couch, he didn't even make it there himself. i had to drag him after he passed out on the floor.” he sighed again as he led you inside the familiar home, your gaze taking in the surroundings as you tried to assess the situation.

you frowned as the imagery in your mind clashed with the reality in front of you. wooyoung was there, passed out on the couch, curled up in a blanket. his lips were slightly parted, and soft snores were coming from his mouth. everything about this sight reminded you of the old wooyoung, the one you had fallen for. it was as if this sight was frozen in time, the only disturbance being the slow rise and fall of his chest indicating his breathing.

every part of you wanted to linger here, to simply stay in this moment with wooyoung. as if this was proof that he hadn't changed, that deep down the same man was still there. the small motions of his body were like comfort to you in this dark time. all you wanted was to stay here, to observe him as he slept, and forget the world outside.

“he was drunk off his ass,” seonghwa broke your thoughts

"but when is he not at this point..?" you heard him mutter, shaking his head as he leaned against one of the walls, arms folded over his chest. you glanced at him, suddenly acutely aware of your own ache. you felt as if you were responsible somehow, as if you played some part in the pain wooyoung was in right now. your heart squeezed tight in your chest, feeling like it didn't fit inside of your body.

just a little longer. that’s all you needed, just one more moment of denial. could you really let go of the last vestiges of innocence that made you happy in this situation? maybe just for one tiny little moment longer, you could pretend everything was okay. you wanted to beg the universe to let you have that just for one miniscule second.

sighing, you took the first step towards wooyoung, gently shaking him. “woo.. come on, let’s go..” you said, trying to wake him up. the exhaustion in his demeanor was almost palpable, like a thick fog hanging over him and covering his eyes.

“go away..” he mumbled, his words slurring ever so slightly as he tried to turn over to get more sleep. he was intoxicated, although not to the same extent that you had presumed before. however, he was still not in a state of coherent thought, and he was still clearly not lucid enough to carry on a proper conversation with you.

you could hear seonghwa sigh from behind you, "i’ll help you get him into the car," he said calmly. he pushed himself off the wall and walked towards you, and a sleeping, grumpy wooyoung who was groaning about the fact you two cared about him so much. why was he being this way? when had he become so closed off and resistant to your care?

you frowned, "thank you, hwa," you whispered. he gave you a small nod in reply, understanding the situation. you struggled to keep hold of wooyoung’s left side, having to bear his weight as he resisted your care while seonghwa had control over the right side and was doing his best to help support most of it.

it was difficult to get down the long hallways, especially while trying to keep wooyoung propped-up and steady. yet, determination was what made the two of you succeed in getting him in the backseat eventually. after all the effort, you had finally managed to lay him down, though you couldn’t help but worry. the entire trek to your car had left you exhausted, anxious, and filled with a strange sense of relief yet regret.

“you sure you’ll be able to handle this?" seonghwa asked, looking at you with an expression that was full of uncertainty and hesitation. you could see the debate going on in his mind, as he debated whether he should let you go or not.

"it's wooyoung." you said the answer that you thought he needed, almost as if you were trying to convince yourself of anything. the two of you remained in a stare-down, your heart racing faster the longer he doubted you. it seemed like he was on the verge of saying something else, until he finally gave you a small nod and backed off.

he sighed, looking back at the backseat one last time and catching a glimpse of a passed-out wooyoung through the window. he repeated your words, "It's wooyoung," with a more sorrowful tone in his voice. he was concerned about you, knowing just how deep your devotion to wooyoung was. he knew that you'd do anything for him, go through any lengths to ensure his safety and comfort, regardless of the risks or consequences.

he also knew that it wasn't a healthy dynamic, and he couldn't help but worry about you. he was caught between caring for your well-being and letting go of the fact that he couldn't always protect you. it seemed like it was one or the other, and both options terrified him.

"i’ll text you when I'm home, okay?" you tried to reassure him once more, leaning slightly against your car as you spoke. your hand on the roof of the car, you looked at him one final time, wanting to assure him that everything would be okay and that you'd be careful.

seonghwa looked at you a bit longer, "you better." he said back to you with a softer tone, as if he was hoping you would, for his own sanity's sake. he wanted to believe that you would be careful and keep yourself safe, despite the fact that he knew the answer could be far different. it was something that he could never truly grasp, just hope that you'd choose the better option.

getting into the car, you settled in and started to put your key into the ignition. "are we going home?" you heard wooyoung’s muffled voice as he shifted in his seat and moved, laying his head on his arm. he had a slight squish look to his face, and his lips were parted from the way he was resting, looking almost like a pouting child.

you glanced at him through the rear view mirror, adjusting yourself before humming. "yeah, we are." you said, giving one more final look at seonghwa who stood at his front door, watching you with a small and worried expression. he remained on his front lawn, standing firmly as if he wasn't sure of what to do with the current situation.

he stood there, looking back at you for a few more seconds before stepping back, his hand lifting in a little goodbye gesture. though, you couldn't see his expression, you got the sense that he was struggling to hide his worry. he tried to smile and wave as you started to drive off, but the tension was palpable. you felt his gaze on you even as he was no longer in sight, and you couldn't help but worry about him as well.

the next morning, wooyoung woke up, tangled in his bedsheets as he felt a pounding headache and his heart beating rapidly. he wondered how he got here, remembering how he stumbled to seonghwa after getting into a fight at the bar. he recalled seonghwa scolding him for being reckless, and he recalled the fight itself, as well. all he could think of was your face, and the disappointed look on it. even in his half-drunken state, his mind kept going back to you.

he glanced over at the two pills sitting on his nightstand, the realization suddenly sinking in as he froze. he could recall you and seonghwa trying to lift him out of the car and you crying as you drove him home. he remembered pretending to be asleep, trying not to hear your sniffles and cries as you drove. the pills on his nightstand were a sobering realization, and he remembered now what had happened last night.

he took the pills as they were, not chasing them down with water, and he pulled himself out of bed reluctantly, staggering with half-open eyes as he walked to the living room. he searched around hoping to find you, his feet dragging on the floor with every few steps. he was still in a half-drunken state from the night before, but your presence or even just a glimpse of anything that would belong to you would have brought him some comfort.

"yn..," he called out, his voice rough from the previous night. he coughed a bit, walking around as he tried to look for any sign of you. he was slowly becoming more alert and attentive, though he hadn't quite reached the clarity that would give him the ability to see clearly just yet. he stumbled around a bit, trying to stay focused on trying to spot you.

then he saw you on the couch, curled up in a small blanket with your soft and peaceful snores leaving your parted lips. you had seemingly fallen asleep unintentionally, and the remote was still in your hand as the television remained on. he couldn't help himself, standing there for a moment as he watched you rest, seemingly more peaceful than he had seen you be before. it almost made him feel guilty, knowing that you were only unhappy when he was around.

it almost felt like all time stopped, as he realized that all he had done was make you sad. he could see the hurt and unhappiness that he had caused you, not wanting to think about the fact that he was the one who had caused it. it was a sobering realization that he struggled to face, as he felt all of the guilt come crashing down on him.

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nctstar · 6 months

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the day that i met you i started dreaming.

You watched in satisfaction as the imprint of your lips stained a faded red colour, two semi-circles adorned by fine lines. The smell of strawberry wafted gently, so subtle you could have missed it. Yet, his voice rang in your ears. “You taste so sweet, baby. You always do.”

pairing: jungwoo x fem!reader

other members: johnny, mark (+his brother), haechan (only mentioned)

word count: 3k

genre: fluff, romance

warnings: lots of kissing, one small smutty scene, not very graphic (penetration and kissing only), profanity (one use of the f word, shit)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my imagination. I don't know the nct members (including their family members!) and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. Also, even though I was inspired by mark's real life doesn't mean this is accurate at all, please keep that in mind nobody sue me please.

a/n: this is for my bestie @neocty because I love her and there aren't enough jungwoo fics out there and she is struggling, so I did what any good friend would do <3 so everyone else please look away (and by that I mean like and reblog and send me requests)

∞

You had first met Jungwoo in your first year of university. Surrounded by girls, one of them having their entire torso turned towards him like she was ready to mount at any moment. Giggles floated past you as you walked by, books slipping in your arms from the sweat on your skin. The edges dug uncomfortably into your side as you tried hoisting them from side to side, trying to find that sweet spot that wouldn’t make you want to throw all of them only the floor, give up and go home.

“Hey.” You hadn’t heard it at first, too busy untangling your arms. But it suddenly felt silent, too silent now, the giggles now gone. You looked up, and the first thing you noticed was also the first thing you said.

“We have the same headphones.” Your voice was monotone, your breath heating up your cheeks underneath your mask.

He frowned, and the second thing you noticed was-

“I like whatever you’re wearing on your l-lips.” He stammered towards the end, probably now understanding how strange that sounded. But if he was embarrassed, he didn’t let on. His face erupted in a confident, self-assured smile, one hand effortlessly running through his dusty brown hair. His face was cute, like a puppy, or a fluffy cat. Soft features, smile lines and shallow dimples on one side of his face. “I’m not hitting on you. My sister runs a small business and sells makeup. I’m trying to get girls to buy her stuff. She’s saving up for a car because she hates public transport. I, personally, don’t mind it. Anyway. Um, you want a flyer?” Paper shuffled in his hands as you realised that he was handing out flyers, not what you had originally thought when you saw all those girls around him.

You fought the urge to say aww as you took a flyer tentatively. You didn’t wear makeup other than yes, your lipgloss, the same one you had brought from your home country since you didn’t really have time to shop in Korea in the few days you had been here already. Your eyes started scanning up and down the flyer while your mind pondered, who still uses flyers to advertise nowadays?

You shuffled from foot to foot, aware that he was still standing in front of you for some reason. “Your sister seems really talented.”

“She is. She also, looks a lot like me.” Jungwoo proceeded to shove the remaining flyers under his armpit, other hand flipping out his phone. In your peripheral vision, you watched one girl side eye you, hard, very possibly the one who had wanted to mount him a minute ago. “Oh, that’s okay, um- oh wow!” Your eyes widened. “You guys look so alike!”

“Right?” Strangers standing musing for more than a minute was odd enough, but what he did next was even weirder.

“The flyer I gave you has my number on it, by the way.”

You looked at his face, soft brown eyes full of hope that made your heart twinge slightly with delight. He was so adorable.

“What happened to ‘I’m not hitting on you’?”

“I’m really not? It’s because my sister lost her phone, and,” he grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, “I want to help her earn money as soon as possible. Because if I don’t-“

He grabbed both your arms, making you flinch a little in surprise, but not pull away, eyebrows perked at his words.

“-she’s going to make me drive her to uni every day! Do you want that for me?” He whisper-shouted this last bit, and you shrugged his arms off.

“I don’t even know your name, so…”

“Kim Jungwoo. Jungwoo. Are you from America?”

“How could you tell?” You smiled, the English rolling off your tongue with ease. “I’m actually technically from Canada. Born and raised. Lived in New York for a while, so…close enough, I guess.”

“Oh! So is my roommate! His brother is auditioning for SM tomorrow, and he needs me to drive them both there-“

You laughed, this time your head naturally rocking back. “Are you the campus free uber or something, Kim Jungwoo?”

“No, he’s dating my sister. Mark’s brother, not him. Hey!” He pointed one finger out, almost comically, like a cartoon character. “You should date Mark.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re both from Canada. It just makes sense. He gets lonely sometimes. I think it’ll be good. Will you come with me?” He talked with the speed of someone on drugs, but with none of the fatigue or lack of lust for life. In fact, he was what you would expect if you asked anyone in the world to picture someone bright and cheery.

You told yourself that was the only reason you said yes that day. Never could you have known how far your relationship would end up growing. Like the first seeds someone carelessly tosses to the dirt in the cold season, another person notices and starts to water here and then, it was only a matter of time before something bloomed come summer.

∞

“We’re going to be late.”

“Oh, relax.” Jungwoo scoffed, but you eyed his nervous hands, shaking and fumbling with everything, from the gear stick to the AC controls. Behind you, Mark’s voice called out. “Did you want me to-“

“No, Mark. It’s fine.” You shared a knowing glance with the Canadian boy in the back seat, and Jungwoo noticed. He coughed, smiling like he knew something everyone else didn’t. “Shut up.” You hissed. He giggled louder, now catching the attention of Mark’s brother behind the driver’s seat, his eyes warily leaving his phone for only a second or two. “What’s so funny?”

Jungwoo finally pulls back the gear shift, that engine now grumbling to life. “I just think _ is too nice and pretty to not have a date for Christmas.” Puppy dog eyes now on you, shirt hanging loosely on his body, he turned and tapped you on the chin playfully. You rolled your eyes, groaning. “Oh my god. Tell me why I even started talking to you that day?”

“You said you reminded me of a puppy.” He pouted, making a tiny, perhaps insignificant part of you beam with something warmer, deeper that just friendship. For the past month, Jungwoo and you had been on a casual texting basis. If by casual, you meant every day, multiple times a day. Turns out you both just had a lot to talk about, or were drawn to each other, or…well, you didn’t want to think about it too much. All you knew is that for the first time since you had arrived here, or honestly, in your entire life, you felt like yourself. And that was enough for you. More than enough.

Now here you guys were, talking about dates for Christmas.

“Can we go, guys? Seriously.” You nodded aggressively and swatted at Jungwoo to start the car, while Mark leaned over, tapping you on the shoulder. Your body swayed as Jungwoo started driving as if he hadn’t driven in ten years. “Jungwoo told me your lips are pretty.”

“Uhm, excuse me!” Jungwoo braked hard at the lights, making the two men in the backseat yelp, Mark now flown back with a resounding dull thump. “Oh my god. Forget making it on time. I’m not sure we’ll make it there alive.” Concerned murmurs filled the car, but Jungwoo kept his foot on the accelerator, pushing through. “Oh relax, guys. And also, you agreed with me, Mark!”

“Well,” You pressed your head against the seat, hoping to avoid a future concussion. “I am wearing Min-ah’s lipgloss, so, it’s all thanks to her.” You shared a smile with Jungwoo, him glancing at you for far too long for someone on a busy road. Mark’s brother raised his arm in frustration. “Jungwoo! Please. I want to be an idol, I want to live!” A loud honk kick-started the car again, narrowly missing the lights changing from yellow to red at the busy intersection.

“Oh, Jin-hyung! That means you could probably advertise the glosses, right?” He slunk back into his seat, muttering something like they’re both mad. “Well, like, after you pass, of course.”

“I’m not sure I will.” Everyone in the car started overlapping with words of affirmations and enthusiastic praises, even yourself. “You’re so great! And you’ve practiced, what, like ten times? And that’s just in front of us.”

“Yeah, Hyung.” Mark’s hands patted Jin-hyung’s knee. “You’re the best singer I know.”

Jin-hyung turned to face Mark swiftly. “Can you come in with me?”

“Um, wait-“

“Please? I’m gonna shit myself if I go in alone. Please?”

Jungwoo leant in towards you, and you immediately placed one hand on his shoulder, steadying him. “Easy, tiger. You know you have to stay in your seat to drive, right?”

His eyes not leaving the road, he asked, “What are they talking about?”

“Jin-hyung’s asking Mark if he can come in with him. I’m not sure if that’s allowed…” You trailed off, watching the building tower over you, drizzles of rain prickling the wide front window. “Wow. Is this it?”

Jungwoo nodded, his attention now on the brothers in the back seat as he tried to park the car. The atmosphere was noticeably intense now, and you also weren’t sure how to react. He coughed. “We’re here. You guys alright?”

“No. Shit, I can’t do it. I can’t.” Jin-hyung’s face was one of pure terror, face pale and clammy, pit stains now forming on his shirt despite the cold blasts of air from the AC. You and Jungwoo shared a glance, the first one that wasn’t silly, rolling your eyes or smirking. “Well, a-are you sure?”

He was quiet, and you noticed light reflecting off the rearview mirror, Mark looking down and biting his lip, face marked with intense concentration. The tension in the car was suddenly thick, like the way a bread knife runs through a block of cold butter, and you swallowed. Finally, Mark spoke. “Okay, Hyung. I’ll come in with you.”

You watched as Jin-young’s chest retreated as he breathed a sigh of relief, cheeks still flushed and red. He tried not to let this relief show, but his voice cracked as he spoke softly. “Thanks, Min-hyung.”

After the two left the car, it was just you and Jungwoo. And, for the first time since you guys had met, it was quiet, maybe even a little awkward. Your hands flew towards the controls of the car, trying to fill the time, only to be met with Jungwoo’s skin on the back of his hand. Wow, he felt so soft. “Oh, sorry. Do you listen to music? I mean, should we?” Retreating your hand slowly, you let your eyes travel to his face.

“Kiss me.”

“What?” You didn’t even register, even as you replied. He looked equally as shocked, staring back at you blankly as if someone else had said what he had said. He let one arm slump over the back of his seat, and your heart starting pounding, your throat clammy. “Jungwoo…”

“I don’t know why I said that, sorry.”

“Wait, do you…But you wanted…me and Mark…”

“I know!” He brought both his palms to his face, rubbing his eyes so hard until it felt like you were seeing stars. “I know. That was so stupid. I can’t believe that just happened.”

You were silent, your emotions rattling inside you noisily, threatening to blow your cover. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, until you stared at his doe eyes, his cheeks now flushed pink with embarrassment. You leaned over, closing your eyes at one point before your lips met, soft, plush, a mix of his morning Americano and the strawberry lipbalm from Min-ah. Pulling away, you were met with the tiny intricacies of his face, his scent, the feeling of his shirt under your palm. The cologne he was wearing tickled your sinuses. Normally you hated that smell, but today…

“Was that okay?” His breath caressed the thin skin on your face, and you nodded almost involuntarily. “Your cologne is a bit strong for me, though.”

“My what?”

“Sorry.” You had no idea why you were so unfiltered with him, thoughts running free from the confines of your brain and into the air. “It’s just…men’s cologne makes me sneeze.”

“Oh baby, you are so cute.” His voice deepened and it felt like someone just released a dozen hungry butterflies loose in your stomach, beautiful and urgent. He chuckled, pressing a kiss now to the sides of your lips. “You’re cute when you blush. So cute.”

The sound of the car door opening made you both jump, both pulling away in the process, backs now snug against your own seats. “How did it-“ you started.

“Min-hyung is going to be an idol!” Jin-hyung’s face was sweaty and warm, his eyes puffy and red possibly from crying, but he wore an unapologetic smile on his face, like this was what he wanted all along, and the relief was simply euphoric.

∞

You pulled your hand away from inside his, trying to rid the clammy feeling off your palms. “What’s wrong?”

“Just nervous.” Jungwoo towered over you, wearing one of those denim fleece jackets you loved so much over a white t-shirt you had gifted him 2 weeks ago. “You look so yummy in white, Woo.” You wanted to cringe at that your own voice reverberating through your skull, but you felt warm and nice instead, like you had just sipped hot chocolate in this freezing weather. He knocked his ankle against yours, playfully pushing you to the side, only to drag you back with his arm looped around yours. “I’m right here. It’s okay.”

“Okay.” You nodded, but anxiety still stirred inside you, making you sick. “Plus, we can always leave if you want.”

“_! Jungwoo-hyung!” Mark looked small in his oversized puffer jacket, waving one arm over his head enthusiastically. Beside him was Johnny Suh, a trainee friend of Mark’s from Chicago, master of sarcasm and dad jokes. Walking up towards the two men, Jungwoo’s arms slipped away from yours, and you playfully patted Johnny on the arm. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, gorgeous. Wait, are you and Jungwoo a thing now?” You half-smiled, shivering against the blast of cold air that pierced through your stockings. You felt warmth spreading on the small of your back, and Jungwoo’s voice behind you. “Yeah, man.”

“I got him that.” You pointed at Jungwoo’s shirt, and he pulled you closer to your side, squeezing your hip firmly. “Yeah. So you can stop flirting with her now.”

“Damn, so you went out with her only to stop me from flirting? Red flag.” He raised his eyebrows comically, and you laughed, but Jungwoo didn’t seem very amused, not to you. He smiled and nodded, but you immediately knew he was uncomfortable. His lips were pale but plump, and you fought the urge to kiss him, biting your own bottom lip in reflex.

When you went inside, you wriggled your shoulders, shaking off your coat. “Hey, baby, you okay? You’re not jealous, are you?” Your tone was teasing, but you watched him carefully, at the way he avoided eye contact with you as he searched for an empty space on the coat rack. “I’m fine.” He muttered, and you pressed your lips together, fighting a giggle. Probably your toxic trait but he was so cute when he was sulky and pouty that you didn’t know how anyone took him seriously. “Woo, please. Don’t lie.”

“Okay!” He still wasn’t looking at you, smiling and nodding at passersby’s as he spoke. “I don’t care that he flirts with you, I really don’t, I really really…”

“Yes, you do.” You rested your weight on one hip, crossing your arms across your chest to look up at him.

“No, I don’t! I trust you.” The warm flame you had burning inside you erupted, replacing that tiny flame of anxiety, filling you with a sense of security, of love. I trust you.

“But you said I’m the funniest man you met, yet you keep laughing at his jokes.”

It was your turn laugh noisily in response, so much so that Mark noticed and joined in from afar, probably already a little tipsy and sharing random anecdotes from his life that no one asked for. You brushed snow off your boyfriend’s shoulders, watching as his nose and cheeks flushed red from the cold. “Cute. You’re so cute.”

“Well, I know that, but am I funny? I don’t care if your exes were hot or whatever, but funny?”

“First of all, you know you’re my first serious relationship. And secondly, Johnny’s humour is different. It’s more flirty, on the spot. You, well, you’re awkward and cute funny, you know? Plus,” you leaned in, intentionally letting the lipgloss on your lips smudge on his sensitive skin behind his ear, “you’re the only one I wanna kiss so bad right now.”

“WOAH! Get a room, you too!” You pulled away, noticing that the red on his cheeks were deeper, spreading all over his face. His eyes stared back at you almost blankly, and you pecked his cheek. “After this, okay? You can have all of me.”

∞

Chest heaving, you shut your eyes, wanting to savour every moment that had passed. Your bare skin shone with a thin layer of sweat, legs tangled in his. You felt him brush up against your neck, his voice vibrating in your ears. “Was that okay?” He asked as if he already knew the answer, pressing his bare body closer to you. You answered by bringing your face closer to his, and he sighed. “You taste like watermelon today. Lemon yesterday, and then strawberry on Tuesday.”

“Jungwoo, this isn’t what I wanted you to say after we had sex for the first time.”

“Sorry.” His eyes were flickering shut. “But you taste really good. Like, everywhere.”

“That’s so cute and kind of nasty too.” You scrunched your nose, and he chuckled. You hiked one leg above his thigh, needing him again. “Can I?”

He kissed you, sucking your lips, making you moan audibly and the tension in your body release as you sunk down on his length. “O-oh.” You whimpered as he began to thrust slowly into you, pressing your hips tight against his. “Fuck, yes.”

Your boobs against his bare chest, arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, you kissed him deeply, not wanting to lose contact. He groaned, thrusts getting sloppier as you felt yourself reach your own high for the second time.

∞

Your butt was getting sore from sitting on the hard surface of the stairs for hours, but you didn’t care. You watched him hang out with his friends, making them laugh so hard you could hear them from metres away. You held the envelope tight in your shaky hands, suddenly nervous. What if he didn’t like it?

“Hey, _.” The stairs creaked as you looked up, watching Johnny’s figure shrouded by the faded light of dusk. You shuffled over as he sat next to you, resting his arms over his knees. He looked tired, only hints of his sarcastic self shining through here and there. “You here to see the missus?”

“Johnny.” You rolled your eyes, but your stomach churned as you realised his eyes were on the envelope in his hands. You snatched it away to hide under your jacket, but it was obviously too late. “What’s that? Is that for him?”

“Yeah.” You had no idea where this self-consciousness suddenly was coming from. You were so proud of it, even this morning as you were driving here. Johnny was silent, matching you as you both sat, letting the distant sounds of the boys yelling fill the space between you for a few moments. Finally, he spoke.

“He loves you.” You swallowed, suddenly feeling tears well up in your eyes. When was the last time anyone had loved you like that? “So don’t worry. He’ll like it.” He patted your shoulder, and with a few thundering steps, he was gone.

As you stood in front of Jungwoo again, the same nervousness brewing in your stomach, you tried to remember those words.

“What? Who loves me? What guy?” Jungwoo looked confused, genuinely frowning and holding your hands in his. You furrowed your eyebrows, slowly coming out of your thoughts. “What?”

“You just said, ‘he loves you’.”

“Oh, oh…I said that out loud?” You removed one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Look, I, had this entire monologue prepared, but, um, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Why?” He caressed your face, and you heard some ooos and cheers come from the right of you. Jungwoo rolled his eyes. “Lee Donghyuck, if you don’t-“

You watched Haechan give you both over-enthusiastic thumbs up with his hands, and Jungwoo gently guided you off the stage, his hand flush on the small of your back. “Just relax, baby. It’s just me. You’re making me nervous. Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing like that.” You shook your head just as you whipped out the envelope and thrust it sideways. Your heart felt like it was bursting out of your chest, under all the layers you were wearing. You blurted out. “I kissed the pages. I kissed them after putting on the lip balms and glosses and lipsticks I wore when I kissed you and you told me I tasted good. I know! That’s the kind of thing that sounds cute in theory, but absolutely psychotic in real life. And I just-“

Jungwoo shut you up with a kiss, the envelope grazing your side as he held you tight with his other arm. Goosebumps ran up your limbs, despite all your layers. Pulling away, he rubbed his nose against yours, making you break out in a smile, despite how corny it was. “You’re probably thinking about how corny this all is. But I love it. I love this. And I love you.”

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deliciousangelfestival · 6 months

Text

Kiss Me If You Can || Part 2

Character: Bucky Barnes x Thief!Reader

Words Count: 1,214

Summary: What happens when Bucky meet his first love the phantom thief for the second time?

Part 1,- Part 2, Part 3,-

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

The first time Bucky got his heart broken was when he was in junior high school. He was playing the arcade game with Steve when he saw Y/N and her friends at the cafe.

As usual, he always watches her from afar.

Then he saw a boy close to her; a bold and brave boy approached Y/N, capturing her attention in a way Bucky had only dreamed of.

The intimate kiss on her cheek unfolded before his eyes like a scene from a cruel play. Bucky didn’t remember what happened next. He went home and cried. He didn’t leave the house for a week. Even Steve can’t get him out of his bedroom.

Bucky realized that Y/N was out of his league and needed to change to stand beside her. He always watching her walk away.

*********

Years go by, and once again, he watches her slipping away. And the most absurd thing is she became a phantom thief. It turns out he doesn’t know a thing about Y/N.

After the chaos she made at the army, they want to catch her. She became their first enemy.

Now, Bucky has another chance to catch her again. Today, his team got told they needed to guard a V.I.P. at the masquerade ball.

Because there’s a rumor the phantom thief will appear at the party, the army sends Bucky and the team to catch the thief.

Bucky didn’t tell anyone that the thief was his first love.

Y/N was right; he couldn’t imagine her inside a prison cell. He can’t let anyone else catch her beside him.

*****

The ballroom sparkled with lights as Bucky and his team guarded a VIP named Richard Harrington. Richard was a rich guy with a big attitude. He couldn't stop bragging about a super expensive diamond necklace up for auction.

"This necklace is worth more than your wildest dreams, Lieutenant. I doubt you've ever seen something this classy," Richard said with a smirk, acting like he was the most critical person in the room. He looked down on everyone, making it clear he thought he was better than them.

As he went on about the necklace, his rudeness showed. He didn't care about anyone else, treating the staff like they were beneath him.

Bucky had to keep his cool, but Richard's mean attitude set the tone for a night that promised to be full of tension and surprises.

As Bucky and his team scanned the room for the elusive phantom thief, Richard Harrington had a different idea. With a sly grin, he pointed to a woman across the room, claiming she was an important guest, and demanded Bucky to dance with her.

"This is Isabella," Richard said, gesturing toward the woman. "She's someone you should be honored to dance with, Lieutenant. Make sure you don't mess it up."

Isabella, the mysterious woman, wore a striking dress that shimmered like the night sky, her mask adding an air of secrecy to her appearance. She approached Bucky with a confident smile, defying the unspoken rules of social hierarchy.

Their dance was like a rhythm of unspoken understanding, a chemistry that flowed effortlessly. Bucky felt a sense of familiarity, a nagging feeling that lingered at the edge of his consciousness.

"Why so intense, Bucky?"

Bucky was surprised when he recognized Y/N's voice beneath the disguise. Once again, this woman caught him off guard.

As they moved to the music, Bucky felt a knot tighten in his stomach, realizing Y/N's presence beneath the disguise.

Y/N, in the persona of Isabella, threw a playful remark his way. "Quite the dancer, Lieutenant."

Bucky, attempting nonchalance, replied, "I've had smoother partners."

She grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Maybe you need someone to keep you on your toes."

Bucky said, "I've had enough surprises for one night."

Her laughter, a melody amidst the dance, echoed in the dimly lit hall. "Why so serious, Bucky? Afraid of a little excitement?"

Bucky, masking his inner turmoil, quipped, "Just trying to survive the night."

Y/N, with a playful glint in her eye, replied, "Surviving can be overrated, Bucky. Sometimes, you just have to embrace the chaos."

Bucky, smirking, retorted, "Embrace chaos, huh? Let's see how chaotic things can get."

Y/N laughed. “Careful what you wish for, my dear Bucky.”

After she said this, the lights turned off, and everything went dark.

Y/N also slipping away from Bucky grasp.

Every guest immediately panicked, but Richard, as the host party, assured the guest that everything was alright.

The chaos erupted as the lights flickered back to life, unveiling the empty pedestal where the diamond necklace had rested. Richard erupted in fury, pointing fingers at the phantom thief.

Unfazed by the commotion, Bucky directed his team to search among the guests. The elusive thief had cleverly blended in, using the same disguise as the innocent attendees.

While the others inspected the bewildered guests, Bucky ascended to the top floor, determined to catch the culprit. As he reached the rooftop, he was met with the sight of Y/N, ready to make her daring escape.

This time, however, she wore a wingsuit, a sleek silhouette against the city lights, poised to vanish into the night.

With a smirk, she waved the stolen diamond necklace in front of Bucky, the glint of mischief evident in her eyes. "Impressed, Bucky?"

Bucky, a mixture of frustration and admiration, couldn't help but respond, "You enjoy making a spectacle of everything, don't you?"

Y/N chuckled, her fingers tracing the contours of the necklace. "At least I gave you a good chase, right?"

Clenching his fists, Bucky shot back, "This game of yours will catch up with you, sooner or later."

As Y/N turned to make her daring escape, Bucky, fueled by a sudden surge of boldness, blurted out, "Next time I catch you, you won't be leaving my bed."

The unexpected declaration left Y/N momentarily speechless, her usual quick-witted responses failing her.

Caught off guard, she stammered, "Umm, well... I guess, bye?" With a flustered glance back at Bucky, she activated her wingsuit and soared into the night, leaving Bucky on the rooftop.

Bucky scoffed as he watched Y/N disappear into the night. Despite her successful escape, a sense of satisfaction lingered within him. His unexpected declaration made him feel a small victory in catching her off guard.

His words held a truth that echoed in his mind – the next encounter wouldn't be a game.

*****

At Y/N's hideout:

After safely landing on the ground and delivering the stolen diamond necklace to her client, Y/N returned home. Bucky's words echoed in her mind, "Next time I catch you, you won't be leaving my bed."

Embarrassment flushed through her, and her heart raced at realizing she might have pushed the boundaries too far. Y/N acknowledged that she had always seen Bucky as a younger brother, especially given his close friendship with Steve. However, something had shifted.

Sighing, Y/N muttered, "What kind of mess have I gotten myself into?"

Part 1,- Part 2, Part 3,-

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

#bucky barnes x reader #buckybarnes #bucky barnes x thief!reader #thief!reader #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #winter soldier x y/n #winter soldier x you #sebastian x y/n #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan x reader

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alexa-fika · 4 months

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Detectives and Red Cheeks ( Heizou x child!reader)

A/N Had to feed the genshin monster yall, Let me tell you my genshin era was second only tk my harry potter Era,I was on the page refreshing for new fanfics and new story quests, Never played though 😂, just watched someone else do it and enjoyed the lore

Dividers by @/saradika

Heizou sighed. He had been looking over a case for the past hour, and his keen senses were not blind to the watchful eye of their sibling, who he deduced was trying to keep themselves hidden, though he never stood a chance to spy on a detective of his caliber

“Reader, what are you up to?”

They make a surprised sound at the fact that they were so easily spotted, the tiny patter of their feet sounding against the wooded floor as they stepped away from their hiding spot

“How did you know I was there?”

“Well, as a detective, I am accustomed to sensing my surroundings. You never stood a chance against your brother’s keen intuition and unmatched abilities,” he smirks

“So? Is there something I can help you with?”

The small child kicks at their feet, suddenly finding them more interesting than staring at what they had come to learn was a stare they were not able to hide anything from.

Heizou chuckles before his expression softens, and he crouches down to a level similar to that of the child’s.

“So, we’re you just… spying on me? That a big no-no, you know?” he looks at you with his bright emerald eyes, a light smile plastered to his face

They shrug

“I got bored.”

“Bored?” he says, raising a brow, but his facial expression remains unbothered

“So… you got bored and decided you just want to follow me and watch me solve a case? You normally complain when it is time for us to go home, you love running around outside,” he says, chuckling

They receive another shrug as a response

“But I want to spend time with big brother.”

“Is that it? You could have told me it wouldn’t hurt to have a partner,” he chuckles as he picks the small child up and ruffles their head

“Do you want to help me with this case I have been working on?”

“Yeah!”

“Then sit right there, and let me tell you what I’ve gathered so far.”

He takes his small sibling over to his desk placing them on his legs. After sitting down, he begins giving them a rundown of all the information he has managed to gather so far.

“Im always impressed with your ability to follow along so flawlessly… would you like to tell me your thoughts on the case now?”

“I don’t think it was this person,” they said, pointing to the first picture of two that he had laid out as possible culprits to the case

Heizou hums in agreement.

“Why do you say so?”.

“They don’t have glasses in any of the pictures you have, Heizou-nii, and you said that the people saw someone with glasses near the place and that they found glasses at the scene, too.” They said, pointing to all of the pictures

“That person has glasses; they’re not the same as the one you found, but people have an extra or two on hand, and sometimes they are different,” they said, pointing to the second picture that Heizou had in his line of suspects

“But you already knew that Heizou-nii, didn’t you?”

Heizou smirks at you, impressed by your deductive and analytical skills.

“Yes. I did already know about that, but I wanted to see if you would be able to see it as well; it seems you have been watching me work more than you’re letting on. Your big brother is so proud of you,” he ruffles the young child’s head once more as he smiles brightly at them.

Their cheeks glow a dark tint of red as they turn around in their brother's lap, hiding their face in their chest

Heizou laughs at his sibling's quick switch of attitude the moment they are complimented

“You’re so cute, you know that?” he says while stroking their hair as they continue hiding their face in his embrace

To my one piece fams, yall ive got so many ideas with the latest reblog I did on prompts, henrioo and Lee pulled trough, if you din’t see it go to my feed and check it out, don’t be shy send in a request 🫦.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #heizou x reader #shikanoin heizou #genshin heizou #heizou x you #heizou x y/n #heizou fluff #heizou shikanoin x reader #genshin x reader #genshin #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin x you #genshin fanfic

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c-o-t-o · 3 months

Note

hi! i love ur writing and am in desperate need of denji x m!reader fics lol, would you be able to do fluff 10 with nsfw 2?

The Snow Storm

Author: c-o-t-o

Character: Denji x male reader

CW: s.fw, character aged up, descriptive kissing scenes

Misc: ~2.2k words. Requested by anon (getting stuck at their house and spending the night, their first kiss with you) thank you so much for the compliment and the request! I didn’t know how n.sfw you wanted this to go, but feel free to request again and I can continue the fic with another part and make it spicier~!

About: you end up stuck at Denji’s for the night and contemplate kissing him all night

*Do not remove info or credit from posts when reblogging or sharing!*

It was movie night at Denji’s again. Well, technically it was Aki’s house, but everyone was away on a mission except for Denji. He took advantage of that by having you over for another movie night. Usually Aki makes you leave early, but on nights like these, you and Denji get to stay up late hanging out.

You and Denji are walking back from the convenience store with your bags full of drinks and snacks. You’re both talking about what movie to watch when it starts snowing. You hadn’t realized how cold it was until snowflakes started sticking to your eyelashes. You and Denji both look up in awe, it had been forever since either of you saw snow. Not paying much attention to where you were going, your hands bump, making you both recoil a bit.

“Heh, sorry.” Denji smiles and looks back up at the snow, sticking his tongue out trying to eat the snow. Even though your hands only touched for a second, you felt your heart skip a beat and warmth flow to your face.

Back at the house, you and Denji have been watching movies in the dark. Sometimes chatting and laughing during the movie, sometimes both on the edge of your seat wrapped up in the plot. Every time Denji’s arm or leg touches yours, you feel your heart start to race. All you can think about is yourself pleading for him to not notice you getting flustered over how close he’s sitting to you. Did he always do this? You feel like you both used to sit at opposite ends of the couch, but here Denji was practically pushed up against your side.

Towards the end of the night, a few movies in, you both start getting pretty sleepy. You’ve started slouching down into the couch, Denji trying to fight his body nodding off. Every now and then his head jerks forward and you catch himself pulling it back up, eyes straining to stay open. Eventually, he starts leaning and slumps over onto you, his head on your shoulder. You freeze for a moment before looking up at the ceiling and swallowing hard. ‘I feel like I’m being tested tonight’ you think to yourself.

You can feel Denji’s hair on your cheek. It smells… surprisingly good. Kind of sweet, actually. You wonder if Denji intentionally picked the fruitiest smelling shampoo, because it was reminiscent of all the jelly he puts on his toast. Carefully turning your head to look at him, you see him sleeping. He looks so peaceful, and… all of a sudden your thoughts stop when you look down at Denji’s lips. Slightly opened with quiet breaths going in and out, you can see the tips of his teeth.

Your heart is beating so hard and quickly now that you’re afraid Denji will hear it and wake up. And he does- not because of you, but because of the music from the main menu blaring suddenly. The movie had finished and gone through all of the credits while you were admiring him sleeping.

Denji slowly wakes up, realizing he’s laying on you, and promptly sits straight up.

“Ehhheheh, sorry man,” he says with a nervous smile. “I didn’t realize I fell asleep.” Denji averts his gaze momentarily which throws you off. Why was Denji nervous? Or was he just embarrassed to have fallen asleep on his friend?

Denji turns the movie off, switching back to regular tv.

“…are advised to stay indoors during this storm. The snow is expected to continue throughout the night and into tomorrow morning. Officials are asking folks to stay off the roads and indoors due to extremely limited visibility…” the newscaster says while in front of a map.

“Storm…?” You question, looking at Denji.

“The snow!” You both shout simultaneously while going over to the balcony doors. Denji pulls the curtain back and turns on the light, seeing that the snow has already accumulated a LOT. Neither of you had realized it was going to be this bad. And without Aki there kicking you out early, it was already so late as well. You stare at Denji nervously for a moment before he closes the blinds and looks back at you.

“Welp! You’re not going anywhere tonight, you’ll have to stay here.” Denji says, rubbing the back of his neck, looking around the living room to assess where you’ll be sleeping.

“Umm, are you sure…? Is that okay?” You hesitantly ask. He’s right, you’re not going anywhere in this storm. On one hand, you start feeling excited at the prospect of sleeping over Denji’s place. But on the other hand… you'll be sleeping. At Denji’s. Alone together.

It’s not like you haven’t before, there were a few times where you stayed over. Being all guys, Aki had no problem with you staying in the room with him and Denji the times you did. But you’ve never slept over with Denji alone before. Especially not after a night of feeling more lustful for him.

“Of course I’m sure! Let’s set up here in the living room. We can watch the snow and have movies on all night. It’ll be fun.” Denji starts moving the couch to make room for the futons. He puts the two together, side by side. You gulp hard and help him set up to distract yourself at the thought of sleeping right next to him.

Later on, when you’re both laying down, the severity of it all hits you. Here you are, laying inches away from your crush, in his pajamas that he lent you, alone together. Denji seems super excited. And you do too, but you also were finding it hard to suppress your feelings for him in this situation.

The room is dark, save for the faint glow of the tv in the background playing a movie on low. It’s so quiet in the room that you can hear Denji’s delicate breathing as he sleeps. The snow continues to fall, and watching the flakes starts lulling you to sleep. Right before you do, you hazily move closer to Denji, smelling his sweet hair again. You fall asleep quickly, cozy, and heart aching for more.

——————————-

You wake up to something tickling your nose. You sleepily rub your finger on it, but the sensation doesn’t go away. You open your eyes to see Denji’s sleeping face right in front of yours. His hair in your face because your foreheads are touching.

‘Did he move this close to me on purpose? Did he do it in his sleep?’ You wonder. The spot where your head meets his starts tingling. Your breath quickens and you feel your face getting hot from the blush spreading across your cheeks. You try to savor this feeling, this view, before Denji eventually wakes up again.

“Hm? Oh,” Denji covers his mouth with his hand for a second, then puts it back on the pillow. “I keep waking up close to you like this, don’t I?” He smiles awkwardly. Frozen again, you mean to move back to put some space between the two of you, but you can’t seem to move. You watch Denji’s eyes slowly look down to your lips, and he exhales nervously. ‘Is… is this really happening? Is Denji getting ready to kiss me?’ You think to yourself, but eventually your own thoughts become drowned out by the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. You feel yourself getting hard even at the thought of Denji kissing you here on your beds. ‘Damn, why does he look cute even when he’s sleepy? His hair is all ruffled, it’s adorable. I want to just run my fingers through it’ you manage to think to yourself.

Here it is, this awkward push and pull of your faces. The moment where you both know what’s going to happen next, but never know who should be the one to go all the way forward. But when your urges force you to be the one to slowly move forward, Denji slightly pulls back, covering face with his hand out of nervousness.

“I’m sorry…” he muffles through his fingers, eyes looking away. Not knowing what to really do, you say you’re sorry back, get up, and go out onto the balcony.

“What was I thinking?” You say out loud to yourself as you pace the balcony in the cold, rubbing your arms with your hands for warmth. “Why would he want to kiss me? I’m just some guy, just one of his friends. Ugh why did I do that…” you pinch the bridge of your nose out of frustration.

Suddenly you hear the door slide open behind you. Without turning around, you start apologizing to Denji.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. It’s just that… well… I really like you, Denji. And tonight was so great. But I wasn’t sure why you were so close during the movie, and you kept falling asleep on me…” you start rambling when the silence behind you continues. “I’m sure you don’t want to be with another guy, I mean you’re always talking about boobs so-“

Before you can finish your rant, Denji has grabbed your shoulder and turned you around to look at him. The snow is falling slowly between the two of you, seemingly slowing down time as you both look at each other. Denji opens his mouth to say something, thinks, then closes his mouth. He does this one or two more times before shaking his head. He steps forward, looking you straight in the eyes. In the dimness outside you can’t tell if he looks angry or desperate, until his next move. Denji quickly reaches out to you, grabbing your head with both hands, pulling you in closely for a kiss.

The moment you feel your lips touch, you immediately begin to kiss him back. His lips are so soft and plush, seemingly melting when he pushes them into yours. When he slightly pulls back, your lips make a quiet smacking sound. Denji covers his mouth again, eyes averting yours.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” Denji quietly murmurs. His entire face is bright red now. “But I didn’t know if you felt the same way. So… it’s why I kept getting closer to you. I wanted to see how you felt. I-“ Denji covers his face with both of his hands bashfully. “I really like you. We have a lot of fun together.” Denji musters up the courage to put his hands down and look at you. His face is entirely too red now, and the realization hits you that you’re absolutely freezing. Denji’s face must be so cold that the redness has deepened.

You both go inside and bashfully get back under the blankets, laying down facing each other again. You inch closer to Denji, noses touching. The tip of his nose is so cold that it makes you chuckle.

“I, uh, never really kissed anyone before. Not like, for real, anyway. Um. I hope it was okay.” Denji whispers. The two of you continue to whisper even though there’s nobody else home.

“Well, now you have kissed someone. We can, um… practice some more if you want. I’ll be stuck here all night, anyway.” You say bashfully, but it’s true. You wanted to take advantage of your night alone with Denji. Once again you lean forward, but this time, your lips find his. At first the kisses are incredibly soft and tender slow kisses. But after a few minutes, you find that Denji has picked up the pace a bit, turning you on.

You slide your fingers through Denji’s hair, kissing him deeply. Every now and then he pulls away to gasp or moan, his voice sending chills through your body. You both start making out pretty heavily. Denji keeps squirming and suddenly you feel his leg slide between yours, his knee gently pushing up between your legs. You unexpectedly let out a moan with your head falling back. Denji leans in and starts kissing the nape of your neck, making you cringe with pleasure. You grab his face, his tongue still somewhat sticking out, and lick it. Denji moans loudly this time. You feel his tongue slide into your mouth, massaging yours with it, saliva starting to seep out of the corners of your mouth. Denji stops momentarily to lick you clean, and then goes back to kissing you.

You start wondering how your soft, innocent kissing turned into this. You were both getting hot and bothered, but little by little you both started dozing off again. It was well past midnight now, and you both had been fighting off sleep for hours now.

“Denji, I’m so sorry, I’m falling asleep.” You whisper, placing one last gentle kiss on his soft lips.

“I am, too. We can, uh, maybe pick this back up another time.” Denji blushes again at the thought of another sleepover where you would resume your make out session. Denji sighs contentedly and slides in closer to you, once again falling asleep with his forehead pressed to yours. Your fingers interlock on the pillow between your heads, finally letting the lull of slumber overtake you. It was a great way to fall asleep. But all night, all you could dream about was continuing where you left off with Denji. And you just couldn’t wait to stay over again next time.

#ask c-o-t-o #chainsaw man #csm #Denji #csm Denji #chainsaw man fluff #chainsaw man smut #Denji x you #Denji x reader #Denji x male reader #csm smut #chainsaw man fic #fanfic #c-o-t-o

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sstan-hoe · 2 years

Text

𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔, 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒂, 𝑨𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏!

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — pornstar!lloyd hansen x fem!pornstar!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You’re new in the industry and to the surprise of your boss and yourself you climbed the ranks in only a few months. Now you can act with the big stars and the first one is a complete asshole

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — SMUT, minors dni., unprotected sex (well reader is on pill), gagging, choking, oral (f&m receiving) p in v, rough sex, degrading, slight dumbification.

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — let's start vanilla on Lloyd here! @georgiapeach30513, like, reblog and comment! yeah I started a porn production and they have plots!!! I know, I know, something like this wow! But I want you to feel with them and I don't mean you masturbating. divider by @firefly-graphics

Being a porn star wasn’t your first choice of career, but the student loans had to be paid somehow. Your friend had set you up with the CEO of Barbers production who she knew as her boss.

It took her some convincing, she told you all about the perks; how it payed good, your safety and consent was first priority. For research purposes you googled some of the actors and all of them looked like they were made by gods.

You had known her since your first year at college and that was five years ago.

Not once had she mentioned anything about her job besides how busy, stressful, or free her schedule was. To be honest you always thought she was just jobless and lived on her parents money, but she was too proud to say it.

She gave you a date for an interview as soon as you told her you were ready, leaving you to wonder how long she had set it up.

When you met with the CEO Andy Barber, he gave you a list of kinks, a contract that also stated they took care of the health meaning his firm would pay for any costs. The list with kinks was for you to decide all the no go’s, what you were comfortable with and if wanted to add things.

After all was done, he showed you all his actors and with whom you start and their preferences. It was only a few, some you had already seen on your research like Ransom Drysdale or Air Levinson.

Out of curiosity you asked Andy if he was an actor too which earned you a heartfelt laugh. He answered with yes, but said he stopped three to four years ago.

With the contract signed and the first date set you were sent home.

All this was six months ago and today was your first time shooting with one of Barbers most popular stars; Lloyd Hansen.

You had heard a lot about him and saw him at a Christmas party once. Lloyd was a pure asshole, always made side remarks, treated people like crap and thought he was better than everyone.

However, he shared the top with Ari Levinson and Steve Kemp. Add to that, that he didn’t get along with anyone but Nick Fowler and Andy though that might only be because he’s the boss. About the others he had his opinions.

Now here you were on your way to the set in your pink bathing robe. Your thoughts are running wild, a part of you was excited about doing this but the other part not so much.

“Hey there! I’m your director Carter Baizen and I know you’re familiar with the procedure but I gotta do it. So, if you are uncomfortable in any way then we use the traffic light system. For green and yellow you can just whisper it with Lloyd, should he not hear it and the say it loud. For red say it out loud. Got it?”

“Got it.” You nodded. Consent is the most important part at Barbers Production, and everyone had to respect that.

You walked over to the scene, it was in a nice living room with a bedroom next to it and a build in kitchen. The storyline was about a stepfather fucking his stepdaughter which to be honest was gross but then yet again it was your job, and it wasn’t real.

A second later Lloyd walked in wearing a white bathing robe and a smug smirk on his lips.

“Lloyd my guy! You ready? Now as you know we use the traffic light system. Green and yellow you can whisper to one another unless the other doesn’t hear then loud, red of course always loud. Also, as you it’s her first time with you I want you to do little check-ups in between. Got it?” Carter instructed Lloyd who gave him a ‘got it’.

“Well hello sunshine. Ready to have the best sex in your life?” He asked cocking his eyebrow and the smirk still sitting on his lips. “Oh, I didn’t know I was shooting with Ari,” you responded knowing Lloyd always tried to be better than Ari.

Though this rival thing was going on since Lloyd and Ari started here at the production.

He became popular in the bdsm scene – you weren’t going to deep into this today – which gave him a massive advantage.

Lloyd’s expression changed into a glare, “mouthy little thing,” he muttered under his breath. “One remark makes me mouthy? What you’re not used to someone not crawling up your ass…” “Well certainly not from woman however mostly it me crawling up their asses.”

The smirk was back on his face and your turned into a disgusted expression. “When you get paid enough you do even the most disgusting things,” you replied lifting your chin.

“You forget here sunshine that if they don’t want to, they don’t have too…”

Carter watched the two of you bickering and one thing was for sure, you two had tension, chemistry which wasn’t the most important thing in the industry but definitely a plus. He had to admit that pairing the two of you was a fifty-fifty chance. From Andy he knew that you didn’t take shit from anyone including Lloyd. So, either this was legendary or catastrophic.

“Really? Your trash stash says something different, you look like a pervert.” Dammit what had he missed? Carter only spaced out for a short minute.

In Lloyd’s eyes Carter could see this was about to escalate. “You better-“ “Hey! Hey…how about we start shooting? Y/n you’re gonna walk around in your nighties and try to seduce Lloyd, no luck so we move to the shower where you try again, he leaves and lastly you guys have sex in the living room.”

“Wait people really like that?” you questioned before this you hadn’t shot a stepfamily video. Carter looked down a bit ashamed, “yeah, yeah they do.” Giving him a quite ‘wow’ you put away the bathing robe.

Lloyd put away his robe to revealing him in only a pair of swim shorts. Your eyes drifted over his perfectly sculptured, toned abbs. “Sunshine, I think you’re staring at me,” Lloyd’s voice made your eyes shoot up to his, “good thing you don’t get paid for thinking.”

“Okay, everyone get in position! We’re filming in five, four, three, two, one and action!” Carter yelled over the set.

You put on a seductive smile as you walked over to Lloyd who was leaning against the kitchen counter. Shaking your hips, you took slow steps forward. “Hey there daddy,” you said stroking your hand over his biceps which was surprisingly smooth.

He was quick to react and pushed you away from him, “wow! What are you doing? If you’re mom sees that.” Lloyd took a few steps backwards.

“Don’t worry she out for a trip with her friends and you have me all to yourself,” you didn’t know what you were doing. “I’m your stepfather! This can’t happen.” “Come on live a little daddy!” you called out with excitement. “Stop calling me that,” Lloyd demanded before walking away.

Leaving you in the kitchen with a pout. You sat down on the couch with a huff and turned the tv on. Shortly after you hear the shower start running and your lips curled into a smirk.

Stripping from your soft lilac night gown you exposed your naked body to the camera.

Quietly you walked to the bathroom, peaking the door open you could see Lloyd’s naked form. Your eyes drifted down to his erected cock which he was slowly stroking. You might hate him, but goddamn did you like what you were seeing.

Slowly you walked up behind him. The shower was open, and you could easily come up behind him without him noticing.

Lloyd groaned lowly as he rubbed his dick, he wouldn’t admit it, but your fierce energy made him this hard. His head dipped back the warmth of the shower consuming him in his pleasure.

You snaked your hand around Lloyd and put it around his dick gently following his movements. Peppering kisses along his back you moved his hand away from his erection.

“Yeah, keep going love,” “mhm try again daddy…” you whispered against the shell of his ear. Instantly Lloyd’s eye snapped open, and he fled from your grip.

“The fuck are you doing here? Fucking shit and cover yourself!” he threw a towel your way which you dodged. “Oh, come on I know you wanna fuck me,” you stepped closer backing him against the sink.

Lloyd had a hard time resisting you but couldn’t break character, “it doesn’t matter if I want to or not. You are my stepdaughter, I’m married to your mother!”

Your hands cradled his face, “she never has to know. We’re not blood, we can do what we want…” lips ghosting over his. “Give it to me…fuck me…fuck me rough, make me cry, fuck me until I can’t walk,” you begged him clawing your hands on his broad shoulders.

A growl came past his lips and Lloyd grabbed your hips pulling you flush against him. “Fine. You want me to fuck you rough? Make you cry like a little girl and treat you like a filthy whore?” “Yes, yes please daddy-.” He turned you around pushing you against the sink.

“Call me daddy again and you can’t sit straight for a week,” Lloyd hissed while one of his hands landed a firm slap on your ass. A gasp escaped you in response.

“Understood?” “Understood…” “Sir you call me sir and if you don’t you get punished.”

Lloyd dragged you to the bedroom and threw you on the bed. You smirked at him as you pushed up and your elbows and spread your legs giving him a perfect view on your pussy.

With a mischiefs smile Lloyd grabbed your ankles drawing you to the edge of the king-sized bed. “What a slutty pussy do we have here huh? I didn’t even touch you yet and here you are dripping like the whore you are….” His words send shivers down your spine.

Letting his finger trail up your body he moved above you. Grabbing him by the neck, you pulled him down for a hungry kiss. Whining into his mouth desperately.

Everything to stay in role you thought to yourself. You didn’t necessarily have to kiss your fellow actors unless in fitted the role you were given and here it wasn’t required.

Without thinking Lloyd kissed you back, the same thought running through his mind.

His hands moved down to your wrists taking them from himself. One of his hands gripped both of your wrists as the other longed for the belt that laid a few inches away from your head. He tied your wrist together having to poke another hole in the belt.

Going back down he was eye to eye with your cunt. His hands gripped your thighs, and he lapped your pussy like a starved man. Moaning loudly, you wiggled against the belt.

You wanted to touch him, grip his hair, and shove his face deeper inside you. His moustache teases your bundle in the best kind of way.

However as much as you loved the way he made you feel, you hated it. You hated him with your guts, but that man knew what he was doing, and you enjoyed it. His tongue circled your hole before diving in. One hand let go of your thigh and joined his tongue.

Two fingers curling inside of you while his tongue played with you bundle of nerves. You squeezed his fingers when they hit your sensitive spot. “Damn such a tight cunt for such a whore. If two of my fingers barley fit, how are you gonna take my fat cock?”

“Oh, but I know a slut like you would do everything for a cock wouldn’t she? A dumb whore who doesn’t know better is only after cock,” he continued.

Slowing down his movements Lloyd admired your torn expression.

He loved that he could see how conflicted you were with him giving you this kind of pleasure and still hating him.

Letting out a high-pitched whine as Lloyd didn’t stop teasing you, you tried rolling your hips for more pleasure. Instead, his hand pushed your hips back down, “little slut…are that desperate? What you wanna come? Want your sir to relieve you?”

Quickly you nodded your head not able to form words. “Words whore.” Lloyd slapped your cunt the moment he didn’t hear any words from you. “Yes, sir I want you to relieve me.”

“What a shame I don’t want to,” he said and stood up. Whining you reached for him with your hips longing for his sinful mouth again. “No, the only way you’re coming today is on my cock because that what a whore like you wants right? The only thing you think about all day is to be a whore for a cock.”

The tip of his dick graced your leaking hole using the juice from as lube. Without warning you he pushed himself inside stretching you out.

His hands rested on either side of your head, “fuck tight as a virgin. How is your cunt still this tight when you’re such a slut.” Groaning he seated himself deeper into your pussy.

“Move, please move sir…” you whimpered. Complying Lloyd moved back and forth, the first few thrusts went slow and then he rutted into you. For better grip he wrapped his right hand around your throat.

With Lloyd destroying your pussy, whispering the dirtiest words in your ear, and hitting all the right spots at the same time you felt the familiar knot building in your stomache.

Clenching your walls together around Lloyd's cock causing a loud moan from his lips to escape. He squeezed your throat in response.

Here you were making the filthiest noises when Lloyd could break everything with the sound of his moan. Never in your life before had you heard a sound that turned you on like this.

“Does the sound of my moan turn you into a little slut? Oh no, wait! You already are a slut!” you wanted to answer him but all that came from you was a blabbering sound.

“Oh, have I fucked you dumb already?” He questions with a mocking pout.

You tried shaking your head as much as you could with Lloyd's hand laced around your throat. “I-I come…sir come I” you stammered around.

The sound of flesh slapping together could be heard around the entire set. “You wanna come? Then work for it whore,” with that he turned you around.

He laid on his back with you sitting on his cock. The sudden change of position and angle making you moan pornograficly.

His cock hit spots that you didn't even know about until now.

Taking a deep breath you began moving your hips in circular motions. “Are you this dumb or do just act like it? Are you a dumb fucking whore? Are you so dumb that you can't even ride me properly?”

His hand went back to your hips moving them up and down while pushing his hips against yours.

The tight grip caused bruises, and the realization got you close to the edge.

“Cum for me little slut, cum for your sir like a whore should.”

You collapsed on Lloyd from the intense orgasm he gave you. You already knew you were going to sleep for hours after this and to be honest you could sleep already.

“Now don't fall asleep on me whore, you still have to make me cum.” He pushed you away from him to stand up.

His erection glistening with your cum, gripping your hair he pulled you to him.

“Open your mouth,” he demanded. Doing so he directly pushed his cock into your mouth. You could taste your own cum mixed with his pfecum, having you pussy thrombin.

Lloyd brutally fucked your throat. For a moment stopped to let you gag on his cock causing tears to spring in your eyes.

“Whores don't get to breathe,” he told you.

You whimpered wanting his cum already. As if he heard your thoughts Lloyd let go and fucked his cum down your throat admiring the bulge he made. A relieved moan coming from his soft lips.

A moment of silence fell between the two of you. Making eye contact felt like another world.

Then Carter's loud ‘cut’ rang through the set. “Amazing!!! You can put the robes back on, shower and leave for the day! Oh, y/n how was it? Would you do it again? Maybe go a bit more into bdsm this time?”

You looked at him with a tired smile as you put the robe back on. “Yeah sure! However I would start slowly if that's okay?”

Carter waved you off, “of course that's okay! I gotta see…we could start with Fowler…” before he could finish you interrupted him. “We don't have to do it right now! Just schedule something with Bunny and text me.” You told him and walked away for a needed shower.

Lloyd watched you take off, “you give her to anyone but me and I will have you fired,” he whispered to Carter.

Speechless he watched Lloyd walk away wearing a satisfied smirk.

#lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x black reader #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #lloyd hansen x plus size reader #lloyd hansen angst #lloyd hansen au #lloyd hansen fic #lloyd hansen fanfiction #pornstar!lloyd hansen #pornstar!lloyd hansne x reader #pornstar!lloyd hansen smut #pornstar!au #vee's pornstars ⭐️🔥#my bitch lloyd 👀

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ferretwhomst · 1 year

Text

Holy Shit I Just Realized Something (toh finale spoilers and Badly Structured, Massively Long Rant up ahead)

when we first meet willow in early s1, she's in the abomination track and as we all know she is Struggling. abomination magic just doesn't come as naturally to her as plant magic, which is fine, but it isn't being addressed by the school.

soon enough she gets switched over to the plant track as she wishes- i don't remember the exact details of the episode, it's been a little while, but iirc principal bump shows up after willow covers the entire inside of the school in vines and basically goes "no, i'm not punishing you, instead i'm switching you to the plant track because you're clearly more skilled at this type of magic."

which none of us really thought about, right?? maybe some of us were like "hm, that was a bit abrupt" but we didn't think too much of it because we didn't have much of an idea of bump's character yet.

not much later, it's revealed that bump himself is a part of the abomination coven. (it's not exactly Discussed but his sigil is visible in some shots, like this one.) he is bound by sigil to be restricted to abomination magic and nothing else.

one slightly less relevant detail that i find interesting is how he doesn't Look like an abomination coven member, and so he seems a lot less invested in his status as an abomination witch. now you may be thinking: ferret, that's a moot point because 1. not every magic user is going to have their preferred type of magic/coven/track whatever implemented into their design and 2. princy b wears his Principal Robes every time we see him up until the finale, so it would be difficult to implement those details into his design anyway.

now, that second point is actually, uh. Fair. but as for the first point, allow me to explain

here are two prominent abomination coven members, darius deamonne and alador blight

both of them are pretty obviously abomination coven members right off the bat. darius, being a coven head, has a Shit ton of purple in his design to indicate this (and that's not even including his hair). with alador, this is toned down, but it's still obvious by the permanent abomination goo stains on his coat (and also by the fact that he apparently doesn't wash his hands after working on the abomatons /lhj). these two are specialists, in different ways, of course, but ultimately their skills lie in abomination magic, and neither of them have expressed a wish to try other types of magic at this point.

but here's the thing. as far as i can tell, bump is Not a specialist. while he is a skilled abomination witch, we rarely see him make use of the fact except for during fight scenes- he doesn't seem very invested in it. plus, when we see him during the epilogue, he's enjoying a new hobby, which is...

...plant care, much like willow! :)

(side note i love the holes in his hat for frewin's horns)

now, of course you could interpret this as bump simply discovering a New hobby between where wad left off & the epilogue. but to me, this says that all this time he was held back from his passion for plant care for multiple reasons, for example his job as the principal of hexside definitely put a strain on him in terms of how much time he could spend doing things for himself. but now that he's retired, and the coven system has been dismantled, he can spend more time doing things that bring him joy, just like many others in the epilogue.

this means that when he saw what willow was capable of back in s1, and transferred her to the plant track, he was really saying "i see you're struggling, and i won't let you go through what i went through by forcing you to go down a path that isn't yours." and god he means so much to me for that.

anyways end of rant, if you're here reading this i sincerely congratulate you for getting this far without passing away . i am very unnormal about hieronymus bump and it shows.

(also, PLSPLSLSS reblog this if you agree i spent like an hour here sitting here typing this all up on my phone at 1am AHDKDJFJE)

#toh #the owl house #toh spoilers #the owl house spoilers #toh speculation #principal bump #principal bump toh #hieronymus bump #willow park #willow toh #alador blight #alador toh #darius deamonne #darius toh #only mentioned them briefly but why not tag them as well #anyways i love bump more than i can begin to express #ferret rambles #sorry this is mostly incoherent but tbf on me its past 1am on a school night and ive been sitting here brainrotting for over an hour

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dlartistanon · 7 months

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There's a Liz CG in chapter 13 and I'm both excited and scared at the same time... Please enlighten us on what happened when you've got the time (っ °Д °;)っ

Let me tell you that I nearly jumped out of my seat when I first saw that CG. And let me tell you that Liz's expression was the second thing that gave me concern. I absolutely had to know what was going on immediately.

So, below the cut, I'm going to recap the most pertinent parts regarding this scene. Afterwards, I will reblog with my thoughts and commentary, and some speculation.

Shiningale focus? In my main plot? IT'S MORE LIKELY THAN YOU THINK.

CHAPTER 13 SPOILERS AHEAD

First off, this scene involving Logos, Ascalon, and Salus:

Logos: How far have you tampered with your… "bloodline"? It’s unimaginable that you are blood relatives of the Follower Shining. Such an outstanding person must always repent for your filth. (This is after Ascalon stabbed Salus in the neck)

After that, there's a conversation between Kal'tsit and Shining:

Kal'tsit: What's Nightingale's status?

Shining: … Outside the window, Shining sees Nightingale sleeping, leaning against a tree. Shining: Not good. Though Liz's state has never been more stable, the levels of Originium content in her body are rising, most likely even affecting her pain nerves.

Kal'tsit: This would not be a normal infection.

Shining: Maybe it's the sorcery devices that Sarkaz have set up on the battlefield, or the whispers of dead souls… I don't know. I can't tell her "I empathize with your pain." I really don't. But she happily told me yesterday that she hasn't felt pain in her sleep for a long time…

Kal'tsit: You're hesitating. You've been hesitating ever since you came back from the Confessarii alone. Do you remember the reason you applied to come along to Londinium in the first place?

Shining: 'To cure Liz'. Dr. Kal'tsit, I have never hesitated, even for a moment, about that goal.

Kal'tsit: Even without knowing the exact state of her condition, we all know what "cure" means.

Shining: What needs to be done hasn't changed… I know.

Kal'tsit: I trust you. The eyes with which you view Nightingale are not only compassionate. You're not the only one who's taking care of her, she's treating your fears as well. Nightingale may be physically challenged, but she is a member of the Followers, your companion, not a delicate flower to be protected. The secrets of the Confessarii are truly stomach-churning. But perhaps it is only by confronting the deepest of abominations that we can unravel the truth.

Shining: …

Kal'tsit: I know you're a little upset, Shining. But as we said at the beginning of our partnership, Rhodes Island will help, if you need it.

Shining: --Thank you, Dr. Kal'tsit. The blue feathered beast lands on Shining's shoulder, chirping. It was Liz's usual way of greeting her. Shining: … Liz is awake, I'm going to get her.

Nightingale then recalls a dream (or a memory?) that's very peculiar. Basically it's her and Shining when they were younger, holding hands and walking along a river and watching a bird, but then something strange and horrifying happened to the bird.

Unfortunately the next thing that happens is that they're ambushed by Confessarius and Salus in an attempt to kidnap Nightingale. Kal'tsit summons Mon3tr but Salus--from her battle with Amiya--is able to restrain Mon3tr. Apparently she was able to do this by performing rituals on herself and finding a way to cannibalize the Arts of other bloodlines. She also dove into Amiya's memories (where it turns out that there's a part of Theresa's soul/consciousness that's protecting Amiya still).

Kal'tsit: Mon3tr!

Shining: Dr. Kal'tsit, you can't move yet. Shining: I told you--you and I will only meet on the battlefield.

Confessarius: Oh? Then why are you hiding your sword at this moment? When you left home, you swore an oath to sever your family's bloodline, and I have longed for you to return and fulfill that oath. I gave you time, and you let me down again and again. We should have given birth* to the next me. It would have been the most ethereal bloodline in nearly a hundred years. Then Liz uses her Arts.

Confessarius: … well. Sharp, but full of impurities. What happened to your soul? Do you still think you have hope while you are away from us?

Shining: … Liz! Come back!

Nightingale: …！I won't… at your mercy!

Confessarius: … oh? You are truly an unexpected piece of work, far beyond my expectations. Even though it's just a body, can it still touch "me"?

Nightingale: Shining, now! I… I can't hold on for long!

Shining: … A strange feeling came over Shining.

Nightingale took the initiative to resist Confessarius and restrained him. The ancient demon clan, which had never seen its true soul, was now more vulnerable than ever. Bloodline. The word bloodline was vague, but at this moment, a long bloody crack seemed to appear right in front of you.

Shining hesitated. How could it be so simple?

How can it be so simple?

Kal'tsit: Nightingale, stop! This is a trap, he's waiting for your Arts!

Nightingale: ——！ Time slowed down.

Confessarius: You and I both know where fate will lead us, but the only one who doesn't know is this poor caged self. Contempt of blood and resistance to destiny are doomed to be in vain. No one can deny the heavenly principles gifted by our bloodline. I will do for you what you hesitated to do, create a gap in the cage… Come into the cage with me, and I will set you on the right path. Think through your options… [ancient Sarkaz name].

On the stone platform covered with dead branches, the white sword pierced the heart.

Shining remembers the first time she cried, how amazing it was, giving birth to emotions that she didn't expect. A new soul is carved and shaped under the sword's edge.

???: I have seen… your pain… your… tears…

Confessarius: Accidents always bring surprises. You could have stopped experimenting right then, but you couldn't bear to destroy the ignorant consciousness in that empty shell. … So you sewed memories into the empty shell.

Shining: She is Liz. She shouldn't…

Confessarius: It is your freedom to name your populated consciousness "Liz".

"Liz" was afraid of the silence of those across the long table. They meet to sit here and have dinner at the same time every day.

But the white-horned Sarkaz holding the sword opposite her had stopped talking to her, taking only notes. "Liz" is always asking herself, 'did I do something wrong to make her angry?'

"Liz" misses the fond memories of their past…

Liz?: I repeat the same dream every day, dreaming about us walking hand in hand in the stream when we were children… Then I flew up, flying higher and higher, but you couldn't hold onto me. From the clouds, I saw you crying. Every time I want to come back to you, I wake up in pain. I ache from feeling your pain and I want to share the burden with you. As long as you tell me why you are suffering… Quesasina.

Shining: …

Confessarius: Quesasina, the name means "hope that does not allow separation", our destiny. She blames herself for your moment of kindness, and she thinks all the fault is her own, this poor "Liz."

Shining: I have abandoned that sinful name. I am now Shining and will only ever be Shining.

Confessarius: Really? Do you think you can resist your family's destiny for thousands of years? I'll wait and see.

"Liz" held the blue feathered beast she rescued from the river in her hands. Her indigo feathers trembled, and the cold river water made her shiver. She thought Quesasina would be angry, but the sad Sarkaz just knitted a brand new birdcage for "Liz".

"Put it in the cage, and it'll be safe from now on."

Liz?: Quesasina, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to risk walking into the river to save it… but I can't just watch it die like this. I fell in love with it when your family gave it to me as a gift. It likes to fly freely, but once it gets too far away from me, it seems to lose its energy and always falls into the river… You said the same thing happened yesterday… but I don't remember it at all. But I will listen to you and put it in a cage. I will protect it. Please don't be angry. I promise you, such a stupid thing will never happen again.

Confessarius: The more fragments and lies you fill her with, the more confusion and pain she will feel. I uncovered the dusty fragments for her. Her awakening is irreversible, and she will eventually painfully disintegrate her rootless consciousness.

Shining: I won't let that happen, Father. I will put an end to our sins with my own hands, and Liz will be cured.

Confessarius: Then what? Isn't her regaining the truth what you fear, dear sister? This is the source of your sad hesitation.

Shining: …

Confessarius: I tolerated you wandering around with this container, and I tolerated you continuing to strengthen this fragile cage… Because I trusted you to love it with all your heart, and you didn't disappoint. Eventually you will come back to me with your cage. And you did. See, she even tried to imprison me to create opportunities to defeat me. Your rebellious love for her and her struggles against fate have sadly become another catalyst.

Shining: You--even using the hope she found in herself?!

Liz?: Shining? Are you here?

Shining: ！

Liz?: I can feel your breath, but I can't see you…

Shining: I'm here, Liz!

Confessarius: She can't hear your voice, we walk within her broken consciousness—the interior of the cage.

Liz?: Shining… there is a burning name and vague question echoing in my mind, but I can't remember it… Maybe I'll remember it when we leave here. I found myself able to share the pain of others to slow the withering of their lives. You said we would go far away to find a cure for me, and maybe I could cure others in pain on our journey.

Shining: …

Confessarius: The disordered and broken memories are flooding her, and sooner or later she will get lost in them. Perhaps she'll go insane, or will kill herself before that happens. But you already know the solution I taught you, Quesasina.

Shining: …

Confessarius: Draw your sword and destroy the bodies of your blood relatives once and for all. Our souls will be reconnected with your sword as a bridge, and you—will give birth. Give birth to eternal authority. This is a fate you cannot escape. Become one with me and nourish her otherwise shattered consciousness with the remains of your blood family.

Shining: … Liz, forgive me.

Shining clenched the sword in her arms, her hand already on the scabbard.

Confessarius: Finally, Quesasina…

From the scabbard, morning and dusk are about to pour out. But at this moment, a hand held Shining's sleeve.

Nightingale: Shining, I like your current name a lot more.

Shining: Liz…

Nightingale: I seem to have slept for a long time, lost in countless fragments. But I heard your voice, and you guided me to a place buried among the debris. There, I dug up fragments of memories… I still haven't remembered them all. But I remembered the question that should have been answered long ago… I forgive you. I forgave you even before you cruelly sealed my memories away… That's why, I'm angry at you for making these decisions all by yourself.

Shining: …

Nightingale: "Liz", I've always loved the name you chose for me. Don't leave me and bear everything on your own. We made a promise to get through this together—

Shining saw Nightingale's eyes and Nightingale's smile.

When Shining came back to her senses, the hand had quietly slipped from her sleeve.

Confessarius: A tragedy, but the ending is always fixed. Either you kill me and become the breeding ground for the next bloodline, or you watch me take her away and then drown in your regret. It’s all the same, sister. Quesasina, the consciousness of the cage has awakened. If you continue to keep her by your side, she will only evaporate and die like dewdrops in the morning.

Shining: …

Confessarius: I will take her away, I will help you maintain it, I will help you make up for it—I will mold the cage into a crown. Then, you will be, we will be… the eternal devil.

In the end, Confessarius ended up kidnapping Liz.

Kal'tsit: Operator Nightingale is a member of Rhodes Island's Medical Department, and we will not allow her to be kidnapped or harmed. But any rash move may put her in greater danger. After all, the opponent we need to face… is an immortal "Demon King" who has coveted the crown for thousands of years. Quesatushta. He who knocks on the door is he who usurps the king. I was aware of the threat of the Confessarii, even during the Tower of Babel period, and several attempts were made in vain. Theresis concealed them so well that people thought they were only the regent's bodyguards.

Shining: … Please don't worry, I know what we have to do.

Ascalon: You are calmer than I thought. What are you planning?

Shining: Liz… made her own choice. It's a choice that even I would never dare to think of. It is bold and aggressive, but it is the most effective. It seems that I'm always the one who's afraid of failure and dying… What I want to do, ha. It is to catch up with her.

#dltext #anonymous #arknights #shining #nightingale #dl talks ak #IT'S ALL SO MUCH #MY BABIES ARE GETTING SO MUCH RELEVANCE #BUT AT WHAT COST #SHININGALE FANS WHERE YOU AT

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mariamariquinha · 6 months

Text

Chilean, Camembert (Jonathan Levy x f!reader) - one shot

Summary: He was pathetic. Hot, but pathetic.

Word count: 8.1k

Warnings: Mentions about divorce, bad words, a few academic terms, alcohol (it's wine), p in v sex, rough sex, a little bit of angst, Jonathan is quite toxic but for the optimists he is trying, oral sex (female receiving) and... Yeah, guess that's it.

Author’s Note: I finished writing this and thought 'I should be taking care of two long fanfics I'm writing here', but this shit had been in my head for MONTHS and, just like Dave's, I had to write it just now because that's when I felt fit. It's my way. I love writing for characters that almost no one gives a shit about.

Enjoy!

(If there are any grammar mistakes, I'm sorry, but I'm lazy, tired and needed to post it).

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Join my taglist! Don’t forget to reblog, comment and like! As always, I would love to know what you’re all thinking! ❤

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He still had her scent on his neck and chest and face. It was an obvious realization, but one he didn't make until he was standing in front of that restaurant looking at your seated figure, one hand supporting your visibly tired face. He was late. Very late. And in a way, Jonathan could make an excuse over the phone and feel bad about it, but he still went there because he thought he could just be honest.

But her fucking scent was there. Probing, making explicit what had happened.

He stood motionless beside the car, coat tight between his fingers and a lump in his throat. You had asked the waiter for the bill, for the only glass of wine you must have sipped all night because you weren't a big fan of the drink. He knew that, but not because he asked - you said. You always said everything and did everything. You were the one who also asked him out for the first time, who kissed him for the first time, who led the whole exchange between you two. And the two of you weren't in a relationship, it hadn't even gone beyond an expected kiss after the third date, because you were patient and understood the moment he was going through. Still, Jonathan knew it was the last straw.

With more of that bitter feeling, he also saw you picking up your things and heading towards the exit. His cell phone vibrated at the same time you put yours to your ear, trying to talk to him for the fifth or sixth time. Jonathan didn't answer.

It was like a slap in the face, the way you lost the polite smile you'd given the hostess when you walked out the door and saw him there, in front of you, a street away. Your face wore a frown, a colder, more rational look, as you measured him from head to toe with a reticent step in that direction. It felt like you were figuring out where he'd been, what every detail of him meant; it scared him a little.

“Are you-”

There, after a few firmer, closer steps, Jonathan instinctively dodged your proximity, raising his hand just high enough for you to understand his reaction. Then, with a breeze, you became aware of the sweet aroma, the strange perfume that had an owner. From cold and rational, your eyes turned sad. You blinked a few times, swallowed hard. He kept that hand up and you stared at it, as if a wave of brutal realization had coursed through you. Jonathan was left to watch the scene in silence, relishing that bad feeling of having hurt you.

“I-”

“Nn-nn,” You interrupted, closing your eyes for a second and raising a single finger to stop him. He obliged. And then you opened them again, wet from tears you were holding back, looking right at him in a moment of braveness - one he could admire if it wasn’t for the circumstances. “Don't take it away from me. Don’t take… You don't have the right to reject me twice.”

There wasn’t a single part of him that felt strong enough to fight it, to say he could make it better, that Mira was a person from his past, that she hurted him enough for him to leave. But he couldn’t. He… couldn’t do it.

You recovered with a sigh and avoided looking at him as much as possible.

“I’ll go home. Forget my number, I don’t wanna be your friend, yada, yada, yada. You know, the usual.”

“We could talk about it.”

“We could? We could, Jonathan?”

Jonathan shut his mouth again.

“Just… Leave me alone, okay? For good.”

He didn't react when he saw you walking, steps slow as you kicked off your heels and walked the rest of the way to your car in bare feet. You looked back, just to watch the traffic on the street, and in that movement the two of you exchanged glances. You cried. Far from him, with distance, like stubborn tears that insisted on coming out. Tears Mira hadn't cried for him.

And he let it be.

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

The problem was in the details. He had the same gray hairs, the messily organized curls, the sweaters, the briefcase and the glasses, as if the last two years hadn't passed him by. There was Christmas, New Years, holidays; the same. You didn't hear if he was really divorced, if he was still with Mira, what Ava's custody rules were. Like before everything, you had fragments of him. That was a problem because these fragments made you fall in love before.

You had a boyfriend after him, a real one, who didn't have problems with an ex. His name was Charles. Honestly speaking, maybe Charles would have been a comfortable blanket and a hot cup of tea during a rainstorm, which is what you had with Jonathan. And he was good. Indeed, a nice guy. He made you forget Jonathan, put a stone on what had happened and move on with your life.

But you were far away from that mess geographically and emotionally when it happened. In London, more precisely, participating in an important research group for your academic career, and Charles happened at that time. It was an incredible six months. When you came back, he just said that it wouldn't be ideal to maintain a long-distance relationship, and you broke up. You had a good opportunity in Boston as a substitute teacher, a place on the Anthropological research team at Suffolk University and you stayed there without missing Charles much.

A year and a few months later, a friend from Columbia said they were putting together a new research team on Ancient Latin American communities, which was your area of expertise, and he had a good letter of recommendation if you were interested. Rahul was a very good friend. And that, precisely, took you to that exact moment.

First, you discovered that you were a very young person in relation to the other members of the group, who must have been at least 50 years old. At 27, you were an exception who would need to prove yourself a lot. Then, during a campus tour, someone asked you where you came from (which meant where you studied) and when you said you graduated from a public university, Rahul commented that it was better to say you were from Yale until they found out it was a lie.

“It's better to be called a liar than poor around here.”

And then you arrived at the moment that, curiously enough, was the least worst of the day: finding Jonathan leaving the library, with his head lowered and eyes focused on a book. There was a possibility that you would go unnoticed, that you could process the discovery that he was in Columbia calmly, but it was at that moment that you also discovered that Rahul knew Jonathan well enough to make a point of 'introducing' you.

Among other qualities, he was always polite and cordial enough with anyone, no matter who they were. So when Jonathan looked up with a friendly smile, ready for a simple handshake and saw you, he retracted his hand a little, because damn, he really didn't even wait for Rahul to say your name before doing so.

“Good to see you, Professor Levy,” You said, professional as ever, searching for his hand for a normal handshake. No explosions, no butterflies in your stomach. It was just Jonathan.

“Do you… know each other?” Rahul asked, obnoxious by the interaction and pointing between you two.

“Professor Levy was my mentor when I was working on my doctorate,” You explained. “He helped me to get that scholarship.”

“Oh. Small world, eh?”

He didn’t say a thing for a long moment, even after you smiled at Rahul and nodded, going along with his comment to throw the ball to Jonathan. Nothing. He frowned, lips pulled in thin line, and then, just then, when you cleared your throat and averted your gaze, that he blinked a few times, finally engaging.

“... I thought you were in Boston.”

Wow. It sounded like another rejection, from the tone of his voice and the way he watched your face. You felt your neck burning, your cheeks tickling in embarrassment. Good for you, Rahul did all the explanation, gaining Jonathan’s interest really fast and really naturally. From time to time, while your friend would come and go to extend that story more than necessary, you could see him giving you glances from time to time, as if to make sure you were still there.

By the time that whole lecture ended, full of an adventure you didn’t really live in real life, Jonathan turned to you.

“I hope we can have the opportunity to catch up now that you're here,” He said with a small smile, head tilted to the side. “You’re living nearby?”

“She-”

“I didn’t find a place yet,” You interrupted Rahul before he could say anything stupid. “And I don’t want to interrupt your work hours, professor. It’s Columbia, I would be really naive to think you’re not busy.”

“I could always find time to talk with an old friend,” You both smiled falsely, clearly with different intentions. You wanted that conversation to end, Jonathan wanted to pretend something.

“Sure thing,” With a sigh, you raised your eyebrows and looked back at the library doors, pointing at it. “Can we go now?”

Finally - finally - Rahul noticed that you wanted to leave, opening his mouth like a dead fish before nodding, all the while smiling exaggeratedly.

“Yep. Library. Library! Sure, we should-” He pointed at the doors as well, already pushing you to keep walking. “See ya later, Levy?”

“Mm-hm.” Jonathan nodded, another glance in your direction. “Good to see you again.”

“Same.”

Which wasn’t true, but you couldn’t tell exactly what you felt at the idea of coming back to that… interaction. He seemed nonchalant, a little taken aback but relaxed enough or mature enough to not make it a big deal, which was good. Fine. Cool. Of course you didn’t feel anything, whatever happened in the past was in the past. If you looked back and saw him doing the same (and had that feeling on the pit of your stomach), you both were just shocked by the surprise.

Right?

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

The mirror of the bathroom was fogged when you left the shower, making you clean it a little to avert your blurry reflection. Beside the mirror, big enough to see more than just your face, you saw a pair of boxers and a dirty shaver. Rahul wasn't the best of the hosts. You really would need to find that apartment soon.

For some reason, this made you instantly think of Jonathan, which consequently made you frown. No. No, no Jonathan. You shouldn't-

“You two fucked, right?”

Rahul didn’t even wait for you to enter the bedroom, throwing himself on your bed and looking at you suspiciously.

“Rahul…”

“Na-ah, don’t come with that shit. It’s a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question.”

You sighed, scratching the back of your neck and sitting beside him, feeling his body adjust on the mattress to be side by side. That made you think, think, think…

“Remember that guy I was seeing before flying to London?”

“Yep. The one with the ex and-" He stopped himself. "Shit."

"Mm-hm."

"He never sold himself as an asshole."

"I don't think he is a natural asshole," You pointed out, even if you already explained that to Rahul way before that conversation, before he could even guess who was the guy from two years ago. The reaction was the same: he tsked, shaking his head in disbelief, saying you were stupid for thinking like that, that you were 'too good with everyone'.

"He may be quite a catch, honey, but he's still an asshole. A jerk, at least."

"Mm…" You hummed, shrugging a little.

"And since he's the guy from before, you two didn't go to the finals then, right?"

"No, we didn't," For some reason, that made you scoff. "Why? Trying to push your luck?"

"... He's still hot."

That made you laugh - for the first time since the topic flowed between you two. A relief, at best, since Rahul just reserved this type of behavior with you, being so shy when the topic was his love life.

You had the impression that Jonathan wouldn't be just something to make jokes about.

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

Rahul lived close to the campus, close enough to walk everyday to work. You just noticed it was a great privilege when you moved from his apartment not even two weeks later, because suddenly what seemed like 'just a few blocks' turned into a bunch of whining from you.

The price of your new place was quite high because, damn, it was New York, so you did what you were doing in Boston: particular classes. All of this brought a routine for you. In the morning, gym, then work. Then lunch. Then work again. Then avert Jonathan every chance you got. Then go to Mr. Hastings house (where he has this weird nerdy son called Dylan) and give the young boy History and Sociology lessons. Then, finally, go back home, shower, scroll through your phone during dinner and avert that notification from Facebook suggesting that you should be friends with Jonathan because he was a mutual friend with Rahul. And at least half of the Researching Department.

It started to bother you. Jonathan wasn't chasing, not like in a stalker way, but the comfort idea that Columbia was a big university (big enough to make him less of a problem) started to fade and you knew that, if it really started to poke, like a petulant child, like Dylan Hastings, you should think of a better way of dealing with the situation. Given the circumstances, it seemed like those two years, from Europe to Charles, were all a big run from the fact that you're still hurt from what happened.

Jonathan didn't move a finger to get closer or force a conversation. Still, you knew that if you hesitated for even half a second, he would be there with his air of intelligence, strong aroma of coffee and a masculine lotion that he certainly used on his beard or on the days he decided to make his hair tidier. You noticed, there was no way not to. He walked more confidently than when all this happened, but Jonathan was never smug or showy, so it was just like he walked around without sulking. That was new to you. When you two met, he certainly didn’t show anything but remorse and a small sense of… comfort? Of fucking trying?

By the end of your second month at Columbia, Jonathan was just someone to look away from. Nothing else.

“I don't know if you'll find what you're looking for there.”

You turned abruptly to the side, seeing him standing in the middle of that corridor, both hands on his pockets and a small smile on his face. It wasn’t suffocating, the way he stood there in a safe distance with his shoulders relaxed and that New Balance dad’s shoes, but with two high shelves of books surrounding you, you just felt a little out of breath.

“It says British Literature,” You pointed at the entry of that corridor, where you saw the sign clearly stating which section the library was in.

“I didn't know this would be in your search grid.”

“And you’re right,” A nod, then your eyes went back to the books. “What I'm looking for isn’t for me.”

“Oh.”

“It’s for Dylan.”

“Dylan.”

“Dylan Hastings.”

He went quiet for a moment, but you didn’t give in to the curious desire to see what the expression on his face was.

“... Private classes, then?” Was what Jonathan asked after a beat, to which you nodded again. “For you to leave Boston and come here, I imagined that the offer at the Research Department would be more tempting.”

Indiscriminately, his comment made you a little annoyed, but you tried not to let it show. He wasn't usually mean, it's just that maybe you always had the wrong dose of sarcasm and even indiscretion. Whether it was his intention or not, you seemed to try a little too hard not to be rude.

“You really seem bothered that I came here.”

“To the library?”

“To Columbia.”

You sensed him taking a small step closer, which made you retrieve in your spot. Jonathan sighed.

“I’m not.”

“Mm.”

“You deserve to be here. With your background and such.”

“I know.”

“Can you please look at me?”

It was your turn to sigh, defeated by a simple task of being polite even when you didn’t have any obligation to do so. When you gave in, turning your eyes to the man, you saw that he was serious, but not angry, as if just waiting to test what should be his side in the conversation.

He didn’t say anything for a moment or two, measuring your face while brushing his fingers on his bearded chin.

“... We can talk about what happened. I know this-”

“We can’t,” Not a question, not a small broken voice of sadness. You said it with an almost expressionless tone, arms crossed over your chest. Jonathan was surprised by the sudden interruption, blinking a few times.

Again, silence. And when he didn’t give any indication to fill it, to say something, you turned your eyes and body back to the shelf, arms dropping to your sides again.

“You always wanted to teach here,” He said surprisingly, this time not even needing to ask you to look at him. You did it right away, snapping your head in his direction.

Took you some seconds to understand what he meant.

“I honestly didn't expect you to think I don't want to talk about this because I don't want to talk to you.”

Harsh, of course, but enough to keep him away. The sarcasm, the venom dripping from your voice, it should be more than a reason for Jonathan to put himself on his place, to be away from you, to just fucking forget it. He was doing just fine for two whole months, no one needed that drama again.

With that, he left, and you cursed yourself with closed eyes for feeling bad about it too.

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

“You know that's not the answer.”

“I would know if you told me.”

“If I told you, you would still not know and we would still be here.”

Dylan narrowed his sharp blue eyes at you, pursing his lips before looking back at the copy of Not Much Ado About Nothing.

“When I'm older, I'm going to pay people to give me answers.”

You looked around, seeing a Renoir on the left wall and a solid wood china cabinet right next to it.

“I'm sure you will.”

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

You thought about it a lot and knew that if you were thinking, it was because you had to decide what to do, which could include… nothing. You could let the matter drop, make Jonathan forget everything and just carry on as if nothing had happened, which seemed prudent. Maybe 'doing nothing', maybe continuing to live and work your dream would be ideal. You loved being an ordinary person, who did ordinary things and didn't live within the limits of drama; you loved peace. But the problem was that, to 'do nothing', it was also necessary to do something, take a step, make a decision, and these were actions, even if they were silent withdrawals.

The research fund had increased circumstantially that semester. Your articles were doing very well and, at that time, you could hope, even from a distance, for a chance at leadership in your own line of research. Like good nerdy academics, the Department didn’t throw celebration parties, but directed the money towards purchasing new printers, updating books in the library and investing in publications in the university magazine or field research trips. They commented that it could frustrate you, being young and not being able to have coworkers with whom you would drink in questionable bars, but you always smiled and replied that it was okay, that you had already booked the clubs and drunk Uber rides for a past time.

And for some reason, this moment of good news, of positive points, made you stop there, with a cup of coffee in your hand and right in front of Jonathan's office.

He had to double-check that it was you who was standing there after you entered, closing his mouth before he could use the condescending tone of a teacher toward a student, lowering his expectations of meeting a desperate oil heir from his Dostoevsky classes for… you. And what would be you, standing there with an unreadable expression?

“... Good morning?” He asked, unsure, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, well, yes. Good morning.” You said. “I’m not gonna do a lot of small talk, that’s probably not the right place to do so, I just…”

Jonathan was blinking at you as if you had a second head, confused by your appearance and probably by your rambling.

“I want to apologize for how I treated you the other day. At the library,” You words had a small effect on him, almost imperceptible. “It wasn't my right to act so harshly even if I disagreed with you.”

“I still think you were polite. I don't remember anyone telling me to fuck off in such a controlled manner.”

“Jonathan…” You scolded him with a sigh, averting your gaze from him with a head shake.

“No, please, I’m being serious. I deserved it.”

“That’s not the point,” You pressed. “It is, probably, but what I’m trying to say is that we could… put a rock on the whole situation and move on. We’re both adults, we can do that.”

He stared at you for another long moment, licking his lips and considering something inside his head. Then, calmly, he nodded, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. With small steps, you sat there, eyeing the papers splayed all over and then the way he leaned against his own chair, relaxed.

“How was your search for the book in the British Literature session?” Jonathan asked casually, even grinning at the mention of your trip to the library.

“Good. I spent a lot of time looking for the damn book and then discovered that Dylan had an exclusive copy,” You rolled your eyes at the memory, crossing your legs to get comfortable. “But it was worth it. It's been a while since I read Not Much Ado About Nothing.”

“Oh, Shakespeare.”

“Mm-hm.”

“I thought you always found him quite boring.”

“I still do,” The comment made him smile more openly.

All of that calm atmosphere brought some sort of comfort, but you were still sitting on the edge of the chair, circling the elephant in the room while sipping on your coffee. After a moment, when he just sighed and clearly left the ball in your room, you stared at your pants for a moment, thinking of a better way to start the topic.

“I won't ask what happened that night,” You started, having quite bitter flashes of the restaurant, the stares, even the pity from the waiter.

“You should.”

“Maybe, but I still prefer not to. What happened in your life isn’t my problem.”

He nodded. You knew that because when you raised your head, he was observing you quietly.

“I'm not with her anymore.”

It was strange that, for Jonathan, this was the most convenient thing to say, as if he had to give you an explanation of that, specifically. You took in the information with tight lips, brushing your fingertips on the coffee cup in your lap.

“... Mm.”

“But I shouldn't have been with her at that time,” He confessed. “I still loved her or thought I did, I don't know. There was just a lot going on at once and so we… That was the last time. With her.”

Again, you took the information, letting it flow in your insides. In fact, you were right to listen to any argument from him in the past. If he told you that back then, that night, the story would be more than something to forget.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because it may not seem like it, but two years can give someone a lot of maturity,” A pause. “And you were always very firm in knowing what you wanted to deal with and what you didn't. When you decided you didn't want to hear about my shit, I realized that I didn't care about you as much as I should have. This was something you didn't deserve and I know that if you still have your reluctance towards me, I shouldn't force it.”

It didn't seem rehearsed, but thought out - there was a difference. It was thought of as a class he was teaching, as a subject he was aware of and just said, in an automatic, reflected thought. You used to have mixed feelings when he spoke to you like that before, and this time you realized it was no different. He wasn't patronizing you, but he wasn't being completely emotional either, which could be slightly incoherent for someone who was speaking his mind. You accepted anyway, because before you didn't have something very solid, not enough for such expectations, and this time the relationship was even less close.

“... Makes sense,” You all but nodded, taking another sip on your coffee. “Quite relieved that you gave it some thought.”

“I did. I care about that now.”

Whatever he meant, whatever his ‘care’ should mean at the moment, you waved off with rationality. Jonathan just didn’t want to feel even more bad about what happened, if he had hurt you - a young, naive woman. It could do things to him, a father, who wouldn’t want his daughter to face what you might've faced. Like fixing his early mistakes to have a word on the future, if necessary.

“Better late than never, right?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“No?”

“Nn-nn. I didn’t come here expecting you to put the same meaning on it as me.”

“And what was your meaning?”

The question made you squirm in your seat, just a little, just enough to notice that he knew you would react somehow. Still, you played it cool: shrugged, looked around.

“You were the hot professor coming off a messy divorce, Jonathan,” You said with a scoff. “That's basically the ideal guy recipe for any frustrated girl.”

“I never thought you were frustrated.”

“But you saw something,” With raised eyebrows, you said it for sure, a truth he would try to hide with kind words and a sense of regret. “You loved Mira and I never asked you to stop doing that. And you remember, don't you? When we kissed for the first time? I told you that you should only keep going if you were sure and you did it. You still smiled and said you wanted to do it the right way, take me to dinner and be a gentleman. The impression I got was that you needed more time to fuck your ex one last time and make sure we weren't going to work out.”

It came out so naturally, tho, like you just organized all of the thoughts and insecurities and expectations you always had when it happened, that Jonathan just stared at you without a reaction, as if it was all new to him. Maybe it was. You labored such a huge crush on him back in the day, he was always more smart, more charming, more polite, more pretty - no one could even come close to what you created of him. And when he came to that restaurant smelling like a woman, smelling like Mira, you knew that Jonathan, the sexy professor with kind smiles and a toe curling kiss, was just a pathetic immature projection of a good man for you, one that you could invest in.

He just considered it as if he were giving something a bain-marie, calmly melting it so that it was right, warm but not hot. You stared back at him, expressionless and calm.

“This sounds more like frustration,” His voice came out, low and ashamed.

“Wouldn’t you say.”

Jonathan nodded, looking around his desk as if he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“... I'm only here because I knew what I was getting myself into. My naivety was to trust that you, at that moment, could lead to a fruitful relationship. It was the wrong time and yeah, okay, it happens. Everyone has one of these.”

“You still didn't want to talk to me about it.”

“Because the first thing you said when you saw me here was that I should be in Boston, like I was a fucking plague.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But implied. You looked like you just saw a ghost.”

“I was surprised.”

“... Really?” You sighed, brows raised in disbelief. He rolled his eyes at the teasing, but complied anyway.

“Shocked.”

“Yeah, that makes more sense.”

“Still.”

“Mm.”

“You’re just as pretty as you were two years ago,” The sudden comment made you stop mid-sip, staring blankly at him at the admission.

“I know,” You said casually, taking a full sip then and seeing him smile.

“One of these days we can have a coffee together. You still haven't told me what it was like in London,” He changed the subject subtly.

“I can tell you what it was like right now.”

“Can you.”

“It was nice.”

“Cold.”

“So cold,” You nodded. “Lots of smart people.”

“I could have guessed.”

“And good pubs with good beers.”

“Mm.”

“Simple like that.”

“I'm sure you have more details that you won't remember now.”

“Is it like a test? I have to study and say what satisfies you?”

“You're not my student anymore, I wouldn't do that. If it can make you say yes, though…”

“Oh no, it would make me say a huge no.”

“So tell me what would change your mind. I can work something out.”

He wasn't serious, was he? You literally said he was toxic towards you and there he was, inviting you to coffee as if none of the conversation had happened. This made you shake your head negatively with an incredulous smile, looking around once again as if the answer was there, among the bookshelves and other things in his office.

“Well, if I remember correctly, you owe me a bottle of wine,” You said with nonchalance, getting up from your seat and groaning a little in the process. “Chilean. Camembert.”

He didn't respond to that either, perhaps because he knew it wasn't an invitation, but the opposite: a reminder that despite your willingness to set the record straight, it didn't mean you wanted to be friends. Because defining and being friends were different things and you were always very diligent in implying things in a confusing way. That wasn't in your words, nor in your tone; it was in the way you stood up and dismissed any chance that he might use the time as an opening for charm, a chance for reconciliation that probably had to do with your connections at Columbia and the effects that circumstance might have on his position.

You went there to reaffirm that and only that. That you wouldn't be an obstacle, that he shouldn't be an obstacle, and that you had a bottle of Chilean wine from two years ago that hadn't been paid for from the right person.

Because the least he could have done when he showed up on a date he invited you to with another woman's perfume, smelling like another woman's sex, was pay for the damn bottle of wine.

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

The bottle of wine appeared on your desk in a discreet brown package, with no indication of its contents. There was no note, or anything written, just the glass, the label and the drink itself. You didn't smile at that. If anything, you took the bottle to a dinner you had at Rahul's house later that day, and when he asked, you just said you couldn't drink it all alone at home.

None of your friends drank alcohol that night. The empty bottle was in Rahul's recycling bin the next morning.

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

The truth, raw and honest, was that Jonathan was a visibly pathetic but attractive man. It was notable, whether in classes or at conferences, that even though he hid himself in department store-looking clothes, with a very disheveled look, Jonathan caught the attention of students, colleagues and people in general. This look probably only increased others' interest in him.

He walked with the confidence of any university professor in that age group, hiding in the personality of a father, an academic, who aroused curiosity, which whether or not it was a full plate for women with daddy issues or a sense of salvation.

Yes, then, he was fucking attractive.

You were never alone in the same place, at least not after the conversation in his office. What you had of Jonathan were these little pieces, fragments of his figure walking around campus and hallways, almost always distracted by something or just determined to get somewhere. He wasn't stupid, nor foolish, because he was aware that that effect made him gain some admirers, but maybe that was enough for you to hold on to these brief moments of Jonathan in your daily life.

He always looked back, in these halls and around campus. Briefly, just like you, with a succinct exchange of glances and a polite nod. Sometimes he would say 'good morning' to you and Rahul, or whoever was with him, and he would always look at you again when no one else was paying attention to him. Little by little, this made you feel that tingling again, the anxious heat of being under the watchful eye of someone for whom you had, even if unconsciously, a growing attraction.

One time he went to the research room because he knew one of your colleagues and, in the middle of a healthy discussion about a research method you were applying, he touched your forearm to get your attention, accompanied by a nod of the head and a 'do you remember when we did this?'.Afterwards, one of the Human Sciences professors invited you to follow a Socratic debate in the class and Jonathan was there, watching you so intently that he hardly turned his face to follow the next person speaking, and soon you started talking looking at him.

He didn't approach, as you suggested, but remained in your orbit.

Rahul was along with you when a peculiar interaction took place. The two were mentioning a new methodology for computing grades in the university system and you casually made notes on the subject. Jonathan turned to you and listened to each word with a look that wandered between your mouth, your gesturing hands and your eyes, which always had a roll, a squint or a widening. When he spoke again, you found yourself noticing his serene expression, the fingers that touched the beard just below his lips and how he scratched the right side of his neck every now and then, perhaps because the beard was growing in that area.

It was clear that Rahul had something to say as soon as you dispersed.

“I get it now.”

“Mm?”

“You and Jonathan,” He said with a calm tone, watching you go from confusion to shyness in a second. “This isn’t a judgment.”

“I know.”

“Because it's natural to have unconscious sexual tension between you.”

You looked at him with raised eyebrows, stopping in your tracks to gather what he just said.

“... Sexual tension?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes at your lack of realization.

“Let's be honest, in these two years, despite what happened, you never imagined what it would be like with him?”

Rahul should have never opened his mouth to talk about this, because suddenly this hypothetical situation turned into a plague. In the shower, on a boring day, when the Facebook request caught your attention: you caught a glimpse of Jonathan. It wasn't that graphic and you didn't have hot dreams about it, but you knew what it felt like to be touched by him, what the weight and feel of his hands was like, his kiss, and sometimes you found yourself thinking about it.

When you saw him in person, walking around the university, you noticed how he ran his fingers through his hair, how the movement of his legs gave glimpses of the shape of his thighs, how his t-shirts and blouses sometimes missed a detail about his chest and stomach. This got worse when you started having some casual encounters with other guys. You went out with a bartender and when it was all over you realized that he looked a lot like Jonathan and that you spent the whole time in an imaginative world thinking it was him.

Damn, you thought. You couldn't keep your word for even a second.

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

When the inevitable happened, the two of you were alone - thank God. It was like a perfect, clichéd scenario: late at night, you were alone in the research room and he showed up looking for someone who wasn't you.

“I thought you were already home,” He said, looking around before landing his eyes at you, who were standing on the small ladder to return a folder to the filing cabinet.

It was a bad day to wear a skirt. You were sure that your tension at being attracted again, added to the lack of cloth on your legs, made you even more aware of the shiver you felt when you went down the steps and saw him close.

“I wanted to finish an article. I can think better when I'm alone, you know.”

“I know.”

The two of you looked at each other for a few moments and there it was, the tension palpable, the heat rising in your stomach and leaving you a little disconcerted. He got it. He took a step closer and it made you blink, looking away at the desk.

“Everyone left an hour ago, I think. If you're looking for Mr. Jones, he won't be back until Monday,” You said, fidgeting with the papers splayed out on the desk, trying to tidy it all into their respective places.

His body was there, next to you, almost touching your arm but not quite. You knew he was very close by the heat and the scent, not having the courage to turn your face to see him.

“Is that so?” Jonathan asked, voice low.

“Mm-hm.”

“Okay.”

You organized the last stack of papers, took a breath and turned to him in time to see him measure the curvature of your ass against the skirt, as it was slightly inclined. He didn't hide it. In fact, he didn't even hide his observations as he glanced up at the discreet opening of the two buttons on your blouse before stopping at your face.

His kiss was the same as the one you remembered, but this one had more certainty and heat. When your mouths met, sharing a wet kiss, Jonathan didn't hesitate to grab both of your ass cheeks, grunting when he felt them and squeezing them firmly. A chair was dragged as you let his tongue invade your mouth and soon you felt the edge of the table pressing you, which you understood immediately.

It was fast, almost desperate. You grabbed his hair when you heard the clasp on his belt come undone and you almost broke his glasses when you felt him roughly lift the fabric of your skirt. He didn't even care and you didn't apologize. Jonathan didn't prepare you either because he didn't need to - you were ridiculously wet. It was a firm penetration, which made you gasp against his mouth, without waiting, and soon the two of you were a mess of kisses and moans and whimpers with each aggressive thrust.

The table creaked with the force of his hips and, fortunately, it resisted when Jonathan lifted one of your legs to go even deeper, even firmer. You moaned softly, restrainedly, and felt a bite at the junction of your neck and shoulder when he heard you moan his name. Jonathan was big, well endowed. You would feel all that the next day, but at that moment none of it mattered. It was a meeting of unresolved frustrations and aggressive, improvised, urgent sex.

He came inside after making you cum twice; he was hugging you when he did it. You were both panting, his face pressing against your neck as you held his head and hips, staring at the ceiling as you tried to regain your decency.

You organized yourself in silence, without saying a word. Your panties were sticking, his spent dripping out of your pussy, but if he noticed, he didn't comment. The table hadn't been disorganized, at least, and you had to pull up the sleeves of your shirt with how hot you were feeling.

“Sorry about it,” You were the first to say something, seeing him eyeing the crooked leg of the glasses carefully.

“It was already like this before, don't worry.”

“... Okay.”

You didn't know what to do with yourself, nor did he. For a moment, you just ran your hands over your skirt, then your mouth, then your hair, unsure whether you should say something or just let him go.

“Are you finished with your work?” Jonathan asked then, making you shake your head.

“I’m done.”

“I’ll take you home then.”

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

You didn't tell Rahul, but you suspected he knew something as soon as you met on Monday. He didn't say anything, didn't even hint, and you were sure that if he really wanted to know, you would tell him. What you imagined, of course, was that maybe it was just a one-time, unexpected and certainly necessary thing that wouldn't happen again. And that you haven't stopped thinking about it.

God, you wished you could forget, but it was Jonathan and it happened. So, best case scenario, you've moved on, gotten back into the routine.

All the energy this began to drain from you, all this… vivid memory of the sighs of pleasure he let out in your ear, the mark he left on your neck and the grunts he made that night, that you wanted so much before and suddenly happened in an unusual way, you took it out on things in your life. Gym, morning runs, a little yoga, an extra half hour in Dylan's classes to watch him practice fencing, another extracurricular activity that Mr. Hastings made him do. Distractions, in fact, because you didn't want to poke at whatever that intense moment with Jonathan would trigger, even if it was poking you again.

“I get the impression you're trying to avoid me.”

He found you in the middle of an Architecture student exhibition on campus, scaring you while looking at a 3D project of a hospital or something like that. You glared at him, saw that he was focused on the students' table, and when you looked around, no one was paying attention to the two of you.

“I’m not.” Pfft. Of course. “What gave you that impression?

“After what happened, it's natural for you to avoid me if the sex was bad or if I was an asshole or if, I don't know, any other reason people avoid people after something like that.”

“I don't know if you really want to know my answer.”

“I do. Tell me.”

You stared at him for a moment, then sighed when he showed no intention to run away from the topic.

“It wasn't supposed to happen.”

“So you regret it.”

“No, not regret, I just… Does this sound even remotely healthy to you? The two of us suddenly fucking inside a room at this university?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time it ever happened here.”

“I’m serious, Jonathan.”

“Well, I am too. People here are traditional, not puritan. And we are both single people who are evidently attracted to each other,” He reasoned, that same stance of having two hands inside his pants pockets and a neutral expression on his face.

You considered it with silence, then turned back to the project you weren’t even paying attention to begin with, working more as a way to move on from the topic.

“The first time you really wanted to take me to dinner,” You mumbled.

“The difference is that the first time I didn't know what I wanted. I know now.”

“And that do you want now?”

Jonathan approached discreetly, arm lightly touching yours as he also pretended to look at the architectural work in front of you.

“I want to fuck you without rushing.”

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

Because that was it, just fucking. That's how things went, without the anxiety of seeing him every day, without the passionate hallucinations of what it would be like to have a 'relationship' with him. Jonathan went to your apartment most of the time because of Ava, but in the weeks she spent with Mira, you fucked all over his house: sofa, bed, bathroom, kitchen.

Mira wasn't an issue either because you didn't talk about it. You only asked once and demanded honesty, at least in this regard, and he said that the divorce had been consummated shortly after you went to London. You only knew about the times he spent with Ava because, after a while, the times he came to you were seasonal enough to form a pattern.

He asked about Europe again, with a more curious and attentive look. You said it was cool, actually, and surprising. When you mentioned Charles, he didn't react or make any comment on the matter.

“I heard you're going to try out for a substitute job after spring break.”

You were leaning against the headboard of his bed when you heard him ask. Jonathan had come out of the bathroom after discarding the condom and was sitting next to you when he appeared with this curiosity.

“From Rahul?”

“Mm-hm.”

That made you shrug.

“It’s not much.”

“It’s something.”

“Yeah,” You nodded, fidgeting with the sheet covering your legs. “But it's still not much. I will be paid per class and Columbia is very traditional in having consistent professors.”

He didn't answer that, which gave you comfort and relief. You didn't want to talk about work there, at that moment, where any objective had to do with everything except Columbia, except the rich students or the next semester's curriculum.

“Are you going to have to give up Dylan?” That was what he asked, starting to place gentle kisses on your shoulder, up to your neck. You gave him space, hand holding the back of his hair, buring your fingers into his messy curls.

“Perhaps…” He bit your earlobe, making you sigh. “Why are we talking about it?”

“Mr. Hastings said a lot of nice things about you at that fundraiser.”

“The one you didn't want to go to?”

“Mm-hm…” Jonathan pulled the sheets away from your body, sliding between your now open legs and pressing more kisses on your belly, going lower to give some attention to your thighs. “Did you talk about this? About you leaving Dylan?”

“Vaguely,” You adjusted yourself, already expecting him to go just a little more bold with that closeness of his.

“He looked quite upset.”

“Jealous?”

It was the first time that someone reached this criterion, which was trivial. You were even smiling when you said that. Well, Jonathan didn't smile. He stuck his head between your legs, made you cum with his mouth and nibbled on your lip as he penetrated your pussy with a long but deep movement.

Of all the meetings, that one was the most full of passion and desire. You left his house completely sweaty and sore. Two days later, when you met again, Jonathan invited you to dinner. You looked at him with an amused expression, not understanding where that was coming from.

“I was a scoundrel, that's all. I want to be able to have the right to be jealous of you without being a complete asshole.”

That made you smile. Really smile.

“You know you're going to need more than dinner for this, right?”

“What I know is that I can start with a bottle of wine,” He smirked. “Chilean, Camembert, yeah?”

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