#each and every one of you who stayed by and on my side even when all i could do was fight back and cry saved me in every way imaginable

[azrielbrainrot]

All Over My Skin

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader x Rhysand

Description: You find yourself in an empty room between the High Lord and the Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Smut, Threesome, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Oral, Cum Eating, Orgasm denial (a bit, kind of)

Word Count: 10620

Rating: 18+

Nothing could have prepared you for the way this evening would unfold when you left your house, something like this only seemed possible in your dreams. The events that led up to this moment were getting hazier with every stroke of the Shadowsinger's tongue against yours, strong hands holding onto your waist and hips, pulling you impossibly closer, until you could feel his own heart beating against yours.

You almost didn't even show up, seriously considering coming up with an excuse to politely decline the High Lord's invitation so you could stay in, curled under your fuzzy blanket, reading a book while the rain fell outside. These types of parties aren't exactly your cup of tea, and the ones you actually get invited to are few and far in between. In fact, you were still not entirely sure why you had been invited tonight in the first place.

A simple scribe sent in from a different court to aid some of the Night Court's libraries couldn't be too important. Your work wasn't even in the Hewn City, but in the surrounding, smaller towns - strangely enough the name of the city where you've spent the last few days, before returning to the Court of Nightmares seems to be evading your mind, you usually have an excellent memory, must be the wine.

You certainly weren't as important as the other guests present, and some of the court's denizens seemed to agree with the fact, not trying to hide their distaste for your presence here. None of the other scribes or librarians had been invited, leaving you by yourself, sitting by a quieter corner of the big, ostentatious ballroom, missing your friends back in the Winter Court.

It was in that exact corner that Azriel had found you, watching the crowd mingle while nursing a glass of champagne, deciding to be a good host and keep you company. This much hadn't come as a surprise, it was obvious the Spymaster didn't enjoy big gatherings such as these, but as polite as he always had been with you, you had never expected him to come talk to you outside of work. From the few glances his way, you could tell he wasn't exactly adored in the Court of Nightmares either, though the fear was a lot more pronounced in everyone's eyes than whatever judgment they held for the shadowsinger.

With him by your side, the boring party had quickly turned into the best time you've had in years, as you laughed along with him and tried not to blush too much at his captivating words and the undivided attention he was showing you, at the bright, boyish grins he was sharing with you.

As the hours passed and the party dwindled, some people started to leave while others started gathering in smaller groups around the room, drunkenly telling each other stories and laughing together. Your intention had been to leave when you noticed how late it had gotten and how few people remained in the ballroom, seeing as your accommodations were outside the Hewn City, usually convenient since it made it easier for you to travel wherever you needed to go.

When you made your wishes known to Azriel, he immediately offered to accompany you, but then one thing led to another, and you ended up in a vacant office instead, sitting on top of the dark mahogany desk with him standing between your legs, kissing and touching each other like your lives depended on it.

To say you hadn't imagined this exact scenario a million times before would have been a boldfaced lie. The spymaster had taken hold of your mind ever since the first time you laid your eyes on him, and really who could blame you? This male was impossibly captivating, his beauty only heightened by his mysterious demeanor and polite disposition, by his imposing frame and the tall wings draped behind his back, the slightly curly, dark hair giving him a boyish look as it fell over his forehead. And his shadows, swirling around his body, whispering every dirty little secret they can find in his ear.

It's no secret the Night Court's Inner Circle are some of the most beautiful fae anyone has ever seen, especially the High Lord with his ethereal purple eyes and silver tongue, so when you were sent to aid the recently crowned Lord of Night as a show of allyship from your home court, you had been more than excited. What you couldn't have predicted was for any of these otherworldly fae to notice you at all, but as Azriel's scent deepens with arousal, a groan escaping him as you tug on his soft curls, you realize you might have been selling yourself short.

The delicious sound sends pleasure coursing through your veins. You let your hands wander down to his shoulders, wanting to take his jacket off so you could feel his skin on yours, but not knowing how to do it without disturbing his wings. Ilyrians are extremely protective of their wings and you don't want to do anything that he wasn't comfortable with.

Azriel must have noticed your hesitation as he pulls back, “Is something wrong?” It takes you a moment to focus on his face, a shiver running down your spine at the hunger you find etched into his beautiful features.

“It's nothing,” the words coming out breathy, prompting you to swallow before continuing, “I wanted to take off your jacket but I'm not sure how…” He lets out an amused breath, a smile taking over his face as he leans down for a quick kiss before pulling away from you slightly, hands reaching out behind him to unbutton his jacket.

Both his jacket and shirt are pulled over his head in a matter of seconds, and your hands move to hold his waist, not being able to stop yourself from staring at the view. Fingers come up to trace the bargain marks swirling over his chest and shoulders, traveling down his arms, as he throws the clothes to the floor, taking a good look at your blushing face before grabbing your neck firmly and using his grip to pull you in for another passionate kiss.

Sadly, his hand doesn't linger around your throat, choosing to hold onto your thighs instead as he pulls you against him once more, wrapping your legs around him, fusing your bodies together. You feel him shuddering softly when your rake your nails over his scalp, but there's no time to revel in it before his hands start traveling up past your hips, taking your dress with them until he could easily reach your panties, tucking his fingers under the lace on either side, the rough skin sending goosebumps swimming across your body.

He pulls his mouth away from yours, resulting in an otherwise embarrassing whine to escape you. Any other noise of protest is silenced as he starts pressing messy, wet kisses down your neck, strong hand holding your jaw and maneuvering your head however he wants you. The marks he was leaving behind were probably going to give you trouble tomorrow, but in this moment you couldn't care less.

You let him have his fun for a while, breathy moans leaving your lips as he took turns nibbling and sucking on your skin, canine teeth teasing the side of your neck, tongue soothing the deeper bites, the ones that would still be etched into your skin come morning. But at some point you start missing his taste, impatience moving you to tug on his hair to get his attention, and judging by the smirk you feel pressed against your feverish skin, it has the intended effect.

Azriel leaves one more kiss on the column of your throat before giving in to your silent demand, coming up to press your lips together again, and allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck to keep him in place, moaning at your eagerness.

The feeling of him against you was mind numbing, you didn't know if you wanted to keep kissing him forever, or if you should give him the same treatment he gave you, and start running your mouth over every bit of deliciously looking exposed skin. You run your hand down his torso at the thought, deciding that you need something else entirely when your fingers move past the muscles he's worked so hard for, the scars he'd survived from, to follow a path of hair leading down to his waistband.

At this your intentions become clear and the kiss intensifies, getting messier as Azriel explores every corner of your mouth, your hands fumbling to unbutton his pants and his following suit, fingers easily finding the small zipper keeping your dress in place, ready to take it off.

“What do we have here?”

An amused voice startles you, a familiar surge of power filtering into the room, making you tense and push away from Azriel, trying to get away from him in an effort to make yourself look as presentable as you could. However, Azriel doesn't move or allow you to, keeping you in place as his shadows move to cover the both of you - you hadn't even noticed they were scattered around the room and not on his person as they usually prefered to be.

You feel him relax softly as he realizes who interrupted you, but this realization had the opposite effect on you. The person standing at the door was none other than the High Lord of the Night Court, and he had just found you half naked and about to fuck his Spymaster in his house, presumably on top of his desk. Azriel keeps one hand on the small of your back comfortingly as he stares at Rhysand, and you try to move away once more, your mind racing to find a way to apologize and leave as quickly as possible.

“You don't have to stop on my account,” he purrs, “You were putting on quite the show.”

The suggestive tone in his voice makes you momentarily forget your predicament, turning your head back to watch him, the sight prompting a small gasp past your lips. Rhysand had shed his jacket since the last time you'd seen him in the middle of the ballroom, his silk shirt was unbuttoned well past his chest as well, giving you a tantalizing view of his chest, his usually perfectly styled hair messy as if he'd been running his hand through it, a few strands falling over his forehead. He truly looked like temptation personified, but that wasn't anything new, what caught your attention was the desire on his face.

As the silence stretches uncomfortably in the room, you realize they must be speaking to each other in their minds using Rhysand's daemati abilities. Neither of them looks mad or worried, which allows you to relax at last, but you're still confused about the whole situation, and the way your underwear sticks to your folds isn't helping you think. You also feel a little left out as they keep watching each other, exchanging words that go unspoken, as if you weren't there in the first place. Seeing as they seem distracted enough, you take the opportunity to push away from Azriel and hop down from the table, not going far since his hands fall on your hips immediately, keeping you close as he finally looks down at you.

“I mean it, Az. We can both have her. You know I don't mind sharing, much less with you,” the High Lord finally says out loud.

The intensity in Azriel's beautiful hazel eyes, and the weight of his grip on your hips distract you for a moment, not allowing you to understand Rhysand's words right away, but when the implication clicks in your mind, you turn around abruptly, facing the High Lord with wide eyes. Azriel lets you, one of his hands leaving your hip in favor of holding onto the desk as he too studies the male who interrupted you.

“What do you mean?”

You had surmised that their little mental conversation had been about you, but hearing Rhysand's proposition had made every thought evaporate from your mind. You'd rather hear every word out of their minds, lest your body gets any ideas before you can comprehend what's going on. You'd also appreciate being kept in the loop.

Rhysand watches you for a second, purple irises appreciatively roaming over your entire form before holding your gaze. Azriel's shadows were still draped over you, but, since he was the High Lord of Night, you're not sure if he could actually see through them as well. It certainly felt like he could as his eyes burned into you, your body reacting as if he was actually touching you.

It seems he's searching your face for something, though you're not exactly sure what and have no time to think on it as he reaches a conclusion, a smirk appearing on his face as he starts walking around the desk with unhurried steps until he reaches you. Your body unknowingly followed him, and Azriel followed yours, until Rhysand was standing right in front of you, your neck bent so you could look up at him, and the shadowsinger stood behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his naked body, keeping you stuck in between the two irresistible males.

Rhysand's hand comes up to tuck your hair behind your ear, thumb moving to hold your chin, the golden rings he wears cool against your burning skin, as he finally answers your question, talking slowly, clearly, “It's no secret you want us both, darling,”

“What?”

If it wasn't for his hand holding your face, you would have looked away in shame the second the words left his mouth. His amused, self-satisfied expression doesn't help either.

“You're not exactly good at hiding your emotions,” he taps your left cheek twice with his finger, proving his point as your breath hitches and you fail miserably to school your expression, his wicked smile growing, before he pulls his hand away and adds, “Your thoughts tend to be particularly loud as well.”

This gives you pause, heart stalling in your chest. You're more than aware of his daemati abilities, but you also had seen him be nothing but respectful of others' wishes when using them. The Night Court has always been known to be conniving, even cruel, but you've had enough contact with the Winter Court's High Lord and seen enough important figures from other courts to know that this only meant they'd rather people know how far they could go than hide behind pleasant, fake masks. After meeting the Inner Circle personally, you were even more sure of this. You had never thought it possible that he would read your mind against your will but now you weren't so sure.

Rhysand continues, as if he was really privy to your thoughts and knew where your mind had gone, “Of course I try my best not to hear any of them, but it's very tempting when I hear my own name.”

“You're scaring her, Rhys,” Azriel warns.

His voice cuts through your spiraling thoughts and the tension in the room, prompting both you and Rhysand to look at him. You had almost forgotten he was still here, and when his gaze meets yours, you wonder how that was even possible.

You take a step to the side and lean against the desk so you could keep your eyes on both of them as you talk. It was also a way of getting a moment to breathe without their scents suffocating you, giving you too many unfiltered thoughts, especially since you weren't sure if they were only yours anymore. Rhysand seems to sober up at his Spymaster's words, the amused expression leaving his face almost completely as he reaches to hold your hand carefully, squeezing it once comfortingly before speaking.

“My mistake. I was just having a bit of fun, darling. I promise I never went into your mind without your knowledge. I also do my best to leave the room when I find myself unable to tune your thoughts out.” You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and that paired with the way he was holding your hand in his larger one, as if it was a normal occurrence, made you relax. “But my point still stands, it's impossible not to notice the way you look at me, and at Az.”

You're certainly no spymaster but you didn't think you were that obvious either. No one had ever called you out on anything of the sort. Your eyes fall on the silent shadowsinger, wondering if it was obvious for him as well, even if he can't hear your unusually loud thoughts as Rhysand had put it. Azriel's face gives nothing away, if it wasn't for the way his scent changed since you walked into this room and the obvious bulge straining in his pants, anyone that wandered in would believe you were actually talking about something as insignificant as the weather. He's making no efforts to soothe you so you suppose that's answer enough. He wouldn't be a very good Spymaster if he couldn't even notice the female gawking at him every time he's in the room after all.

“So you mean…” you trail off, not wanting to jump to conclusions as you look from one male to the other. This all seemed too good to be true, you were half sure you'd wake up in a few moments to find yourself in your bed, and this had all been a cruel trick your mind came up with.

“You can have us both, darling,” he confirms, squeezing your hand.

“Unless you want to stop,” Azriel reassures.

“No,” you're fast to say. Nerves or no nerves, you would see this through. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. That amused expression returns to Rhysand's face at your outburst, and it seems to be contagious as it travels to Azriel's face, albeit more muted. You swallow and try to calm your heart, wanting to do things right so as not to ruin the moment.

“I don't want to stop, but how are we doing this?” You ask slowly, trying not to let the heat of their stares get to you.

You wouldn't say you're particularly shy or inexperienced when it comes to sex, but you've never been with two people at the same time. It doesn't help that they happen to be two of the most beautiful males you've ever laid eyes on, not to mention one is the only Shadowsinger in Prythian, maybe the world, and the other is the High Lord of the Night Court, the strongest in history. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, trying to rub your thighs together as discreetly as possible at the thought. Of course the movement doesn't go unnoticed, both of the males' eyes glazing over further as their gazes dip down to your center before meeting yours again.

“I was quite enjoying myself watching the two of you, and it's only fair to let Azriel go first. He already started after all.”

“We can move to one of the rooms if you want,” Azriel offers kindly. He's proving to be such a sweetheart next to the menace standing beside him. You nod, a bed would be a lot easier to work with than this desk.

In the blink of an eye, you're winnowed to a dark room. Not having enough time to fully take in the ornate decorations around the room before Rhysand leans down to press a chaste kiss on your cheek and moves to a reading chair, pulling it closer to the bed before sitting down, a glass of whiskey appearing on his hand out of thin air. It seems he meant it when he said he wanted to watch.

“You can let me see her now, Az.” You hadn't even noticed his shadows were still clinging to your skin, keeping your flushed body hidden away from Rhysand's hungry eyes.

Azriel does as his High Lord asks, sending his shadows to every corner of the room until not one is covering either of you. It's a strange sight, to see the shadowsinger bare of his shadows.

His hands move to take your dress off, pulling it over your head in a single movement. It seems the urgency from before was returning as he pulled you in for another kiss, your hands moving around his neck on instinct. As he starts walking you backwards towards the bed, your brain regrettably catches up to you once more, reminding you that you're in the Night Court on business, so being caught in this situation could make you lose the job you've worked so hard for, and so you break the kiss to ask, “Are you sure no one will see us?” You almost whine when he stops, even if it was your own fault.

“I won't let anyone come in this room,” he promises, staring into your eyes.

“He did.”

“This is my house, darling,” Rhysand clarifies from his chair, “We're the only ones here.”

Azriel rolls his eyes softly, leaning down to kiss you again, noticeably slower than before. Taking his time to coax your body to follow his, hands moving over you appreciatively, almost reverently. He moves down your neck, biting over the same marks he had left before, allowing your body to relax further into him.

“Breathe,” he mumbles against your skin.

“I'd hate to think my presence won't allow you to relax.” It's certainly making you all tingly. “I've been nothing but good to you.”

“I'm just a bit nervous.”

“I can keep Rhysand quiet if you want,” Azriel says, completely serious, making you smile, any lingering tension leaving your muscles at the offer. You would actually love to see how Azriel would keep the High Lord quiet, something tells you he would succeed.

“That's not it. I just…” you bite your lip, hand moving to hold the back of his neck, playing with the short hair growing in, “I've never done this before,” you confess.

“This?”

“I mean having someone watching me,” you explain, not wanting them to think you don't want to do this.

Azriel hums, thumb caressing your cheek as he leans in. “Just let me take care of you,” he says, tilting your head how he wants it, lips bumping against yours with every word, “You won't even remember he's still here.”

“We'll see about that,” Rhysand chuckles, sending a small burst of his power over the room, prompting a shiver to run down your spine, Azriel's too judging by the way his body trembled against yours, even his wings twitched a bit - you wonder if the High Lord noticed that, if he liked it.

The shadowsinger chooses to ignore him in favor of tasting you again. Deepening the kiss immediately as he continues his journey towards the bed, uninterrupted this time, carefully pushing you down on the mattress, his body following yours, his warmth never leaving you. You don't miss the way he arranges your bodies so that Rhysand can watch everything he does to you from his seat by the side of the bed. When he pulled out that chair, you hadn't noticed how close he had placed it, but even with both yours and Azriel's labored breaths filling your ears, Rhysand was close enough that you could still hear his, could smell his arousal deepening his scent, the same way he could hear and smell you as well.

As your thoughts wander, Azriel breaks away from your mouth so he can travel down your body, as if he had the same mind reading abilities as his High Lord and wanted all your attention on him. Leaving wet kisses in his wake, sharp canine teeth teasing your skin and warm tongue tasting the sheen of sweat forming all over your body, he achieves just that, your mind not even remembering the violet eyes burning into you.

At last, his mouth finds the hem of your panties, tugging on the fabric playfully with his teeth and letting them snap against your skin. You let out a soft gasp at that, getting up on your elbows so you can watch him better, meeting his gaze. His hulking body was sprawled on the bed, huge wings thrown to the sides, out of his way, as he grabs your thighs and pulls them apart, making you plant your feet on the mattress so he can fit himself between your legs better, the backs of your soft thighs meeting the hard muscle of his shoulders.

“Azriel,” you pant, needing him to do something. The way he studies the damp fabric clinging to your folds making you tremble with desire. The hum that comes from deep in his chest when hearing his name not helping your case. Your hands fist the sheets until your knuckles turn white, trying to stop yourself from grabbing his head and guiding him right where you need him.

Taking pity on you, he moves in, but not before letting his hot breath meet your damp skin, just so he could hear you say his name in that breathy tone one more time. Pressing an open mouthed kiss over the drenched fabric, he lets out a moan of his own.

“How does she taste?”

Azriel looks into your eyes, smirking at the shiver that crosses your body as you're reminded of your audience. “Absolutely perfect,” he murmurs, still pressed against you.

Rhysand shifts in his chair, but you don't have the opportunity to see what he's doing because Azriel hooks his thumb under the lace barely covering your heat in that same moment. He pushes your panties aside and repeats the same motion as before, tasting you properly this time. After licking a broad stripe across your cunt, he lets his tongue swirl around your clit, once, twice, humming when you moan his name again, head falling back against the mattress, hands finally moving to tangle in his soft hair, not caring about anything else besides the pleasure he's giving you, thinking he would continue.

The annoyingly attractive smirk from before grows even larger when you whimper and lift your head to look down at him in protest, almost pouting when he pulls away suddenly and lets your underwear snap back into place. You might have been too quick to assume he was nicer than Rhysand. He shushes you mockingly, getting up on his knees as scarred hands move to your sides, squeezing the flesh appreciatively before grabbing hold of your panties and running them down your legs slowly, taking the obstructive fabric off and leaving your body completely naked for his eyes to feast on.

Azriel doesn't take his eyes off you as he balls the fabric a bit, throwing it blindly at Rhysand, who easily catches them with a satisfied smirk on his face. The High Lord had completely unbuttoned his shirt at some point, letting the dark silk frame his body as he lounged in the chair. Not that you had any doubts, but he was truly mesmerizing. He winks at you when he finds you watching him, bringing the glass down from his lips as one hand - the one still holding onto the thrown underwear - travels to his crotch, squeezing himself and letting out an obscene moan, closing his eyes at the stimulation. Azriel is breathing hard in front of you, and, by the way his hand is frozen on your thigh, you don't have to look to know he also can't tear his eyes away from Rhysand.

“I'm the one who's supposed to be watching,” he reminds the two of you, a taunting lilt to his voice, chuckling when you both look at each other once more.

This sets the shadowsinger into motion once more, a slight frown taking over his features, disappointed for being caught by the High Lord. He comes up to kiss you again, spreading your legs, so he can fit himself between them, falling into your body. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him as close to you as physically possible, moaning into the kiss when his hard length presses right where you need him most, bucking your hips instinctively back and forth, the fabric of his pants adding just enough friction.

He indulges you for a bit, guiding your hips and meeting your thrusts halfway as you grind on him unashamedly. Wanting to hear every little noise you let out, he moves down to your chest, biting and sucking everywhere he can reach, completely devouring you. The shadowsinger seems to be trying to make good on his promise of making you forget Rhysand was watching, a competitive streak of sorts rising up after the little stunt the High Lord pulled just now. Maybe you should thank him because for a moment you think you even forgot your own name.

You were embarrassingly close to an orgasm when he stops your movements, strong hands holding your hips in place, silencing yet another whine with a kiss as his hand moves to find your cunt, gathering as much wetness as he can before pressing one finger inside you slowly, letting out a curse and quickly adding another one when he hardly finds any resistance. The squelching noises it elicits are absolutely sinful, and entirely too loud for the quietness in the room.

“Just wanted to get you ready for me, but I think you can cum like this, can't you?” He punctuates the question with a chaste kiss, one you don't even have the awareness to reciprocate, entirely too far gone already. His voice sounds deeper, rougher than usual. It's making your toes curl, and it alone could send you falling into that orgasm, walls fluttering wildly around his fingers.

Just as you're getting lost in the throes of pleasure once again, teeth come down on your neck - a warning. You open your eyes at the sudden, unexpected pain, not even realizing you had closed them in the first place. Meeting his gaze, you try to understand what he wants as the hazel in his eyes threatens to drown you.

“That was a question, angel,” he explains, slowing down his pace, fingers barely moving inside you now, but still keeping you full. You don't remember the last time you had been this turned on, there's no need to look down for you to know your wetness is running down his hand and soaking the dark sheets, your thighs coated in it too.

“Let's try again,” Azriel says, keeping your attention on him and thrusting his fingers in deeper, massaging that place that makes you see stars. He repeats the question, honey dripping from his words like poison, “Can you cum like this?”

“Please,” you beg mindlessly, finding your voice at last, arms tightening their hold around his neck. His skin felt like an aphrodisiac against yours, making you want more and more. In this moment, you probably would have done anything he wanted as long as he kept touching you.

Moans rise in volume as he speeds up just enough, adjusting your legs with his knee and leaning down to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking on it before biting down softly on the hard peak and letting the tip of his tongue play with it, his hair tickling your skin.

It doesn't take long until you're falling over the edge, it feels like you've been dangling from it ever since he first put his hands on you. Pleasure rushes to every nerve in your body as you moan out his name mixed in with other incoherent pleas, nails digging into his skin, pulling out deep groans of his own. He lets you ride out your high, still thrusting his fingers in and out of you slowly even when he pulls away slightly, your arms falling from your hold on him as he sits up between your spread, quivering legs.

When your breathing calms down enough and you open your eyes, you find him entranced by the way his digits move inside you. His other hand had found its way into his pants, stroking himself in time with his thrusts. You sit up then, catching him by surprise at your eagerness as you tug down on his waist band, revealing his cock to the warm air in the room.

Azriel lets out a hiss when you wrap your hand around his length, fascinated by the way the tips of your fingers can't even touch each other. You'd never had anyone as big or thick as him, and the thought only made you wetter. Saliva pooled in your mouth as you studied him, thumb running up a particularly prominent vein, following its path up until you found his leaking head, feeling its softness on the pad of your thumb. Wanting to lean down and take him into your mouth, needing to know the weight and taste of him on your tongue as he drove his length down your throat.

“This is what I mean when I say your thoughts are too loud,” the usual teasing voice had a noticeable edge to it now, a breathiness that wasn't there before. When you look over at him, you find the High Lord's composure slipping through, hand grabbing onto the arm of the chair a little too hard, mouth slightly open as his breathing gets heavier.

Feeling bold, you look right into his violet eyes, letting your mind run wild as you imagined Azriel fucking your mouth, the filthy images pulling a moan out of Rhysand, loud enough that the shadowsinger looks to him in question, an eyebrow raised, barely hiding the amused look on his face since the High Lord looked as if he was the one who had your hand wrapped around his cock.

“She wants to suck your cock.” He sounds like he wants to watch you do it even more. You watch as Azriel's eyes glaze over, a hair raising noise escaping him. Rhysand had probably shown him all your little thoughts, the traitor.

“Is that so?” His voice was gravely, heavy with arousal. You nod enthusiastically in response, tightening your grip around him, a hiss escaping him before he can regain his composure. “We'll have to leave it for another time, angel,” he says, pulling your hand away from him, and prompting a whimper out of you, one he rushes to silence with a thumb over your lips. “First I need to fuck you.”

The desire in that statement sets you off, a frenzy that wasn't there before flooding your brain and pushing every sane thought out. Your hands move to help him remove his clothes, grabbing his neck and pulling him into a desperate kiss the moment they hit the floor. Azriel pushes you back down on the bed in a mess of limbs, teeth on teeth and heart to heart.

The next moments are hazy in your mind, one minute your hand had found its way back around his cock, swallowing every noise he let out, admiring the way his wings fluttered when you swirled your thumb around his head, and the next he had both of your wrists over your head in a steady grip, grinding his cock over your folds a few times before moving down, finally lining himself up with your cunt.

You catch a glimpse of the gentleman who's been assisting you in your work in the way he looks up at you in confirmation one more time, giving you the opportunity to tap out before things went further. Of course stopping was the last thing in your mind, but your heart fluttered at the thoughtfulness just the same. You nod at him, adjusting your thighs, opening them even more in invitation. A moan escapes you when you feel him push in, closing your eyes involuntarily at the stretch.

He goes slowly, giving you enough time to adjust and coming to a pause every time you show any little sign of discomfort until he bottoms out inside you, a breath of relief escaping you. It's not long until he's properly fucking you, both of you needing more.

As soon as he lets go of your wrists, deciding he would rather guide your hips as you meet his thrusts, your hands move to touch him, tugging on his hair, running your nails down his back. You hug him to you as close as physically possible, feeling his hard, warm body move against yours as he brings you unimaginable pleasure with every thrust of his hips.

No one has ever made you feel this insatiable before, and the suffocating power that filters through the room only makes your senses more heightened. You never thought having someone watching you in such a compromising situation would bring you so much pleasure, but your heart hasn't stopped beating out of time ever since Rhysand walked into that office.

“Azriel,” his name escapes in the midst of the breathy moans after a particularly deep thrust, one that has his pelvis grinding right over your clit in a maddening angle. You could feel him so deep inside you, you know it will be impossible to ever forget the way your walls hug him, the way he hits all the right spots.

“I know,” he says, leaning back and pushing your legs back towards your torso, your knees coming up to your head, spreading you completely open for him, making him go even deeper as he holds you in position.

It doesn't take much longer until you're cumming around his cock, a broken moan cutting itself short as your breath gets knocked out of you. You barely feel the way his hips falter, slowing down to avoid falling over the edge with you. He had every intention of playing with you a while longer before handing you over to his High Lord.

Azriel keeps fucking you through your orgasm, never stopping even when you come down from your high, a new one already building. He lets go of your legs, dropping them on his shoulders so he can hold onto your waist instead, moving your body in time with his thrusts. Sweat kept his hair stuck to his forehead, his wings spread out behind him, mouth agape as he watched his cock drive in and out of your heat, a ring of your cum forming around his base, making the sight so much more erotic.

“You have no idea how good you feel,” he murmurs to himself, the confession making you let out yet another embarrassing noise, one of your hands moving to hold onto his wrist. He meets your eyes, continuing with the mind numbing praise, “how beautiful you look like this, taking me so well.”

“You're making me feel so good too, Azriel,” you confess between heavy breaths, the way his cock bumps into every pleasurable point inside you making it hard to even breathe, let alone talk. He was going in so deep you swear you could almost feel him in your throat.

“Yeah?”

Biting your lip, you nod up at him, holding his gaze, wanting the hazel to consume you. Azriel's face is usually set into a mostly emotionless mask, fitting for the role of Spymaster, and even though he often shows more of his emotions when he's at ease, especially around his family, you've never seen him quite so open. He was completely unguarded as he looked down at you, not even his shadows coming to hide any part of him away from you.

It's this that pulls you under the waves of pleasure, letting go once more, giving way for yet another mind breaking orgasm, breath catching in your throat when he speeds up as you spasm against him, chasing his own high and intensifying your own as a result. Your entire field of vision goes black before you even close your eyes, the pleasure so intense you forget yourself for a good few moments, barely registering the way Azriel's body trembles along with your own, the curse that leaves his lips when he finally lets go, his hips stuttering as he cums deep inside you, filling you up in every sense of the word.

You're a mess of limbs and sweat by the time you both come down, struggling to catch your breaths, his heavy pants hitting your damp skin as you both try to get a hold of yourselves. Azriel leans down to give you a languid, messy kiss, savoring your taste as he gives you a few more shallow thrusts, keeping you full of him, and almost making you want to beg him to fuck you again.

He pecks your lips one last time, a chaste kiss compared to anything else that has transpired between you tonight, moving to the side to leave a few kisses on his way to your ear, where he leaned down to whisper, “You did so good for me, beautiful.” A breathy moan escapes you at the praise, at the deep timbre of his voice as he whispers it so close to your ear. You feel his lips stretch into a smile at the sound, rewarding you with another soft kiss before continuing, “It's time to give our High Lord some attention too, don't you think?”

His words drive you to look to your side, finding said High Lord watching you intently, his pupils so blown out you can barely recognize the distinct purple of his eyes, sitting back on his chair, one hand holding onto an empty whiskey glass, thumb slowly running over the rim. You could clearly see the black lace of your panties peeking out from his pocket, it seems he intended to keep them. He had long since unbuttoned his pants, allowing his underwear to peek out. There was a noticeable strain over the crotch of his pants, in fact if it weren't for the angle, you're certain you could make out the shape of his cock through the expensive fabric. The way his pants were pushed down over his hips, told you he hadn't resisted the temptation of stroking himself while he watching Azriel fuck you, the thought sending a shiver down on your body.

It's not that you forgot Rhysand was right there, his presence is entirely too powerful to ever go unnoticed, but Azriel had truly fucked you into a brainless mess for a moment, and watching the High Lord now, after already having his Spymaster, the only thing on your mind is doing exactly what Azriel said and give him all your attention.

With one last kiss, Azriel moves away from you, carefully pulling out and getting up with a lingering look at the way his cum was leaking out of your hole now that nothing was keeping it in. You swear you could even see his semi hard cock twitch at the sight, closing your legs so it didn't run down onto the sheets. He walks to the nightstand, grabbing a glass of water as he unknowingly puts on a show of his own, his entire body on display as the light catches on his sweaty skin. Azriel looked like nothing less than a God in that moment.

Sitting up slightly, your eyes move to Rhysand, more than ready for him, but not exactly sure how to go about it, hoping he would take the initiative. You had expected him to still be watching you, but that isn't what you find. Instead the High Lord was focused on his Spymaster, completely captivated by his body the same way you had been mere seconds ago. You briefly wonder just how many times they've done this before, and how many times they've taken it further. The thought makes something inside you flutter, pressing your thighs together as you feel yourself growing wetter once again. Insatiable didn't even begin to describe what these males were turning you into.

“If you don't hurry up, I'll just fuck her again, Rhys,” the shadowsinger says behind his glass, looking up at the male in question.

It feels like time stops for a moment when their eyes meet, the usual roles reversing as the High Lord forgets himself momentarily under Azriel's gaze, desire spilling over and flooding the room. You can pinpoint the moment Rhysand catches himself, that self-assured air he always has about him returning as a smirk falls over his lips. He even sends a pulse of his power across the room, finally standing from his chair.

“You're always rushing me, Az,” he purrs, “As if you don't enjoy playing with your food as well.”

“Food?” You meant for it to sound like a question, a little offended even, but it almost sounded like a plea. You were starting to feel a little left out watching the tension between the two males.

“Oh, darling,” he breathes out, looking at the way you sat waiting for him on the bed, “I'll show you in just a moment.”

As he walks to you, Azriel moves over to take his place silently, sending you an encouraging wink when he sits down and finds you watching him. This situation is foreign to you, and, as much as you believe that Azriel has no problems with Rhysand being here at all, it doesn't change the fact that you had spent the night with him, laughing and talking, he had been the one to kiss you first, pulling you into that office, all this while you've barely exchanged any words with the High Lord, you had even seen him more often before this night.

Your view of him gets obstructed when Rhysand reaches the bed, standing over you as he takes off his pants, having already discarded his shirt on the way. Since you were sitting, you were perfectly leveled with his crotch, getting a front seat to the way his heavy cock hung as he finally freed it from its confines. The tip was glistening, begging for you to put it in your mouth and taste it.

“You didn't pay this much attention to me when I was the one sitting on that chair.” The words break you from your trance, eyes traveling up his chiseled torso to look up at his smug face.

It is true that you've spent a lot more time with Azriel, and had barely been able to even remember the High Lord was right there, maybe you should rectify that. Reaching out and grabbing his cock firmly, you decide to show him Azriel wasn't the only one you wanted. Your tongue finds the tip of his cock, licking away the precum gathered there and moving to swirl around the head, tasting him properly. A surprised gasp escaped his lips, one strong hand instinctively holding the back of your head when you put the whole tip in your mouth, sucking loudly as you grip his base.

He was around the same size as Azriel, and you really weren't sure just how much you would be able to fit into your mouth without gagging, but you were determined to get as much in as you could. As your other hand moves to hold his hip, you start pushing him deeper as you bob your head, letting him help you as he thrust a few times into your hot mouth, managing to get a quarter of the way in before he tangles his fingers on your hair, pushing you off him.

You look up at him in question, a string of spit still connecting your lips and his cock. You're trying hard not to pout like he had just taken your favorite toy away from you, but this is the second time they won't let you pleasure them.

“If you keep going I'll cum,” he explains, clearly holding back. This makes you feel better, powerful even, seeing how much he's affected by you.

“That's the point, High Lord,” you say, tightening your hold around his cock, licking his tip playfully, smirking when he lets out a groan from deep in his chest. There was an air of authority in the sound - he liked it when you called him by his title, and you're certain you'd love the way he would put you in your place.

“I'm going to take care of you first,” he murmurs, thumb caressing your bottom lip, “You've been so good for us. I think you deserve it.”

He leans down, holding your head in his hands as he pulls you in for a kiss, pulling away too quickly for your liking, studying your face. Your eyes were still a bit unfocused and your lips were kissed raw, shiny with spit - yours, Azriel's and his. He can't help but bite softly and lick over your bottom lip at the thought. He then lets his eyes travel down your body, ignoring your soft whimper.

He instructs you to lay back down, and your body moves to obey his command immediately, back falling against the mattress once more, almost trembling with anticipation as you wait for his next move. Biting your lip to stop another whine from escaping when his hand replaces yours for a moment, stroking himself twice, spreading your spit all over his shaft as he studies your body. Rhysand took his time mapping out the bruises and bites his spymaster left on your spent body, his hands falling to the exact same place on your hips Azriel's had been.

“Az really made a mess of you,” he moans out, as if the way he had been eyeing you up wasn't enough to make you want to jump his bones.

Spreading your legs so he could fit himself between them properly, Azriel's cum starts running down your hole. Your breath catches in your throat when Rhysand kneels down before you even get the chance to react, tongue stopping his spymaster's cum from falling down onto the mattress, groaning deeply at the taste. He runs his tongue over your folds a couple of times, your hands fisting the sheets as he teases your already too sensitive clit, before moving back down to your heat, hands holding your thighs apart as he starts cleaning out Azriel's cum straight from inside you, driving you absolutely insane in the process.

“Fuck,” you hear the whispered curse come from the shadowsinger's, the chair squeaking as he leans back, likely feeling the same frenzy you did watching the High Lord eating his cum right out of your cunt.

From the first moment Rhysand walked into the room, you knew there had to have been more going on between the two that you had ever suspected, but you hadn't expected this. He was eating you like you were his favorite meal, moaning out in pleasure all the while. You had no doubts Rhysand wanted you, the fact was clear in his blown out eyes as he watched you throughout the night, but you don't think he wants Azriel any less, even though you were willing to bet he has already had him before.

The sloppy sounds echoing around the room would have probably embarrassed you in any other situation, had it been anyone else in the room. Your scents had mixed so thoroughly, there was no way to know where either of you began or ended. There were tears spilling from your eyes at the intense feelings wrecking through your body. Azriel had already made you cum so many times, you were too sensitive, but somehow still craving more.

A sudden movement makes you focus on the ceiling through blurry eyes, noting the way Azriel's shadows swirled around the dark painted wall, spying on you and Rhysand. If either of you were in the right state of mind, you would have noticed the way Azriel's breath came out in short pants, hand finding his way onto his already hardening cock as his shadows explained everything to him down to every sordid detail - the way your body trembles under Rhys' skilled tongue, white knuckled as you desperately tried to cling to your sanity; the delighted sounds escaping Rhys as he dove deeper and deeper inside you, cleaning you out of the shadowsinger's essence.

In the midst of the mind numbing pleasure, you hear a familiar voice whispering right inside your head, unwilling to tear himself away long enough to say the words out loud. Tell me when you're close, darling. He had never spoken straight into your mind before, and the feeling of his voice echoing in your mind mixed with the way he was already devouring your cunt, almost makes you cum right then and there.

Your hips were stuck between grinding onto his face and arching back, your own body not sure if it could handle everything Rhysand was giving you. It was all too much, the feeling of his warm tongue licking and sucking at your abused walls, the thumb oh so softly petting your clit, only giving it enough pressure, the heavy breaths coming from Azriel who was now watching you, their scents heavy in the air, their power thrumming through the room.

“I'm close,” you pant, eyes closing as your hand falls to play with his soft hair, “So, so close.”

He hums in response, lulling you into a fake sense of security before pulling away unexpectedly, right as you were about to fall into ecstasy. You let out a noise between a whine and a sob, gripping his hair harder, trying to guide him back to where you needed him. If they kept pushing away from you like this, you'd just push them onto the mattress and ride them to your heart's content.

“Bastard.”

Rhysand simply chuckles down at you, a cruel curve to his smirk, pulling your hand away from his hair far too easily given the death grip you had on the strands, even licking the palm up until the space between your fingers teasingly before letting go of it. He comes down to kiss you, silencing your cries and whatever nasty insult was following with his mouth, putting most of his weight on you to keep you melting into him.

You bite his lip vindictively, nails carving his skin, prompting yet another laugh out of him, infinitely amused by your temper. The taste of copper fills your mouth, intertwining with his and Azriel's tastes perfectly, neither of you stopping your assault as your tongues battled for dominance.

When he finally pulls away, both of your chests moving rapidly, the exact spot where your canines have pierced through were still visible on the plush skin of his lips, blood barely trickling down as his healing moved to tamper it down. Gods, blood looked good on him.

“Is this any way to treat your High Lord?” he questions, licking his wounded lip.

“You're not my High Lord,” you whisper back defiantly.

“I am for as long as you're in my court,” he starts, one of his hands running along your skin until he finds one of your breasts, thumb circling your nipple, your body treacherously arching into his touch, delighting him to no end. “Especially when you're in my bed.”

“I'm not sure how my High Lord would feel about that.”

Rhysand tilts his head to the side, eyebrow raising as a strangely possessive look falling over his eyes. “I can always send you back to him with my cum inside you,” hand abandoning your chest with one pinch to your sensitive nipple, “see what he thinks about it.”

“I think you mean your Spymaster's cum,” you say, mirroring his smirk when his breath hitches just a touch.

“Cleaned that all out, darling” the way he clenched his jaw told you his patience was close to snapping, and oh did you want to see it happen.

“He was so deep inside me,” your hand falls over your stomach as if demonstrating him, “I'm sure there's still some of it left.”

“You weren't this mouthy with Azriel.”

“I was too busy getting fucked to talk back.”

You're not sure if it was your words or the chuckle Azriel lets out that does it, but Rhysand lets out a growl, a deliciously powerful sound that echoes throughout the room, and makes you tremble in anticipation. His eyes narrow as he looks down at you, baring his teeth when you open your mouth to tease him once more, and flipping you over on your stomach before you manage to get the words out.

“Then let's keep that pretty mouth screaming my name instead.”

The High Lord is always so calm and collected, never losing his composure in front of anyone, but here he was, losing his control all because of you. He grabs your hips, lifting them up enough to place a couple of pillows under you, keeping your body raised at the right angle. You feel his palms fall over your asscheeks, spreading them apart, exposing you to him completely.

Pushing up on your elbows, you try to keep yourself up and turn your head around as far back as you can to see what he's up to, finding him dropping a string of saliva right onto your cunt. He meets your gaze right as it falls, its warmth dripping over you, before looking back down, grabbing hold of his aching cock and lining himself up, wasting no more time as he bottoms out in one single stroke of his hips.

Your forehead falls against the mattress, a broken moan escaping you at the suddenness, almost no sound coming out as if he had taken the air right out of your lungs. He doesn't give you any time to adjust either, grabbing your hips in a tight grip and thrusting into you at a reckless, punishing pace.

“Rhysand,” you moan loudly, just like he wanted you to. Rhys, he corrects in your mind. “Rhys,” you repeat, holding onto the sheets, “please don't stop.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

The sounds filling the room are downright filthy as he fucks into you. If you knew this would be the result, you would have started taunting him back a lot sooner. You're playing with fire, darling. You can't help but choke out a laugh between the pathetic moans escaping your lips, resulting in a particularly hard thrust from him, though you can almost feel that familiar smirk returning to his face.

That might have been the only downside to this: you couldn't look at him as he fucked you, couldn't see the way his face scrunched up in pleasure as your walls gripped his cock. You're not exactly sure if he read your thoughts again, but he slows down just enough to lean down over you, caging your body under his, his entire torso pressed against your back as he continues his assault in deep, hard thrusts.

You try to match the rhythm of his hips, arching your back into him to the best of your ability, chasing what could very well be your strongest orgasm yet. His muscles moved against you, tensing when you squeezed too hard around him involuntarily, one of his hands grabs yours, intertwining your fingers together, as his forehead falls against your shoulder.

“I'm so close, Rhys,” you choke out, feeling that knot getting impossibly tighter, threatening to completely wreck you when it snapped.

“You can let go, darling,” he pants, “I'm right there with you.”

It's hard to say if Rhys had been the one to search for Azriel's mind or if the spymaster had the idea on his own, but an image is projected onto the High Lord's mind in that moment, one that has him letting out a deep groan, sharp teeth finding your shoulder, hips faltering as he tries not to cum right then. He shares it with you as soon as he catches himself, the image of Rhysand fucking into you from Azriel's perspective filling your mind, a whiny moan leaving your lips.

You could barely see yourself under the High Lord's strong body, the way his back arched and his muscles moved with every thrust taking your breath away. Azriel was clearly focused on the way Rhysand's cock barely pulled out from you, only ever coming out until about halfway before slamming back in, pulling out otherwise pathetic sounds out of you. You could see the way your hole stretched to accommodate his thick length, thicker than you've ever had, clamping down on him viciously.

Apparently you had been right to assume there was still some of Azriel's cum inside you as it now formed a ring around Rhysand's cock mixing in with your own juices, the excess spilling down your cunt and dripping onto the sheets, covering your thighs and his, coating his balls.

As sinful as the sight was, what pushed both you and Rhysand over the edge were Azriel's unfiltered thoughts accompanying it and the desire that could be felt through them. You could tell just how much he was enjoying the show, eyes transfixed on the way your bodies moved together, stuck between wanting to keep watching, and wanting to join you, slip his cock right into your inviting mouth, muffle the sounds echoing around the room, or come up behind you, the arch of Rhysand's back would make it so easy to just slide right into his High Lord, fucking him as he fucked you.

Your entire mind goes blank when your orgasm reaches you, losing sense of your surroundings as you're pulled under. Rhys falls over your body, barely catching himself before crushing you with his weight. It takes a while before you actually feel like you can breathe or focus on anything at all, almost purring as the first thing you feel is Rhys' leaving soothing kisses over your skin, murmuring praises as he moves.

Turning your head you try to find his lips, failing as the angle works against you. A sigh escapes you when he pecks your cheek, pulling out of you with a wince, body trembling at the oversensitivity, and flips you over carefully letting you kiss him to your heart's content, molding your bodies together until you can't see where one begins and the other ends.

After a few moments, Rhys holds onto you, lifting you up with him as he sits up on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, your mouth running down his neck, marking the perfect skin and reveling in the soft sounds he rewards you with, his hands massaging your spent body tenderly.

“It seems we have a problem, darling,” he says, voice hoarse. You move your head away from his collarbone, looking up at him to find him watching something behind you - Azriel. The hunger written on his face tells you the night is far from being over, you swear you could feel him getting harder against your thigh.

You hadn't paid enough attention to Azriel in a while, too distracted with the mind numbing pleasure the High Lord was giving you. Turning your head around to see what that problem was exactly, you almost let out a moan at the sight. Azriel was still sitting on the same chair Rhysand had been before him, face leaning on his elbow as he held his High Lord's gaze. He was sitting with his legs spread out, long, hard cock standing proudly against his abs, a bit of precum wetting the skin. You can't help but swallow when his hazel eyes fall on you, clenching around nothing as Rhysand speaks up once more, desire hanging over every word.

“Can't leave him like that, can we?”

[seospicybin]

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Synopsis: Let's play two truths and a lie, and here goes the first thing about you: You want to fuck your roommate's boyfriend, Minho. (9k words)

Author's note: It's a quick one-shot I made like a year ago but pls enjoy it nonetheless 😊

Content warning: Infidelity.

This is how you play two truths and a lie. You share three statements about you, two being true and one false, and people must determine which is which.

-

So here goes the first statement: You want to fuck your roommate's boyfriend.

A few months ago, you came to the city for your new job and were placed in a housing with a group of unbearable people. Since you've just started working, you tried looking at another option to get a temporary place to stay until you're financially stable enough to rent an apartment.

Long story short, a friend of a friend introduced you to Kim who happened to have an extra room you can rent. She owns the apartment and does not necessarily need the money, she offered her room for the sole reason which is to help you. You're aware that you don't meet this kind of that is to help you. You're aware that you don't meet this kind of person every day and for that, you're grateful for her.

After a week of living as roommates, you learn that Kim is just as graceful as her occupation, a ballet dancer. She's beautiful, kind-hearted, amicable, and ultimately, a very attentive roommate.

The room you're staying in was supposedly her private dance studio but she uses the living room to practice now and you have to adjust yourself to the huge mirror covering one side of the wall in your room.

Not long after that, Minho comes into the picture. A sharp nose, sharp jaws, and feline eyes, a beautiful face that only reminds you that the world is unfair to some people, including you.

"This is Minho," Kim introduces him with a smile

The second your eyes lock in a gaze with him, you feel an instant attraction and it intensifies as he stares back into your eyes.

"My boyfriend," Kim adds a little too late.

It's funny that the word boyfriend doesn't stop you from being attracted to him, if anything, you want him more than before.

Kim and Minho have been together for two years now and they met at the dance academy which explains a lot of things, including Minho's lean and toned body.

How do you know? Because sometimes he stays over and on more than one occasion, you found him walking out of the bathroom with nothing but a white towel hanging lowly around his waist.

That's also when you learn that this attraction is strictly physical, your uterus is acting up when you see him, and lewd thoughts rush through your head. It's all biological. There's no way you want to pursue him romantically, you couldn't even think of a person more deserving to be with him than Kim. They're both beautiful and talented dancers, oftentimes, you get so envious because they have such a lovely relationship.

Like tonight, you hear their laughter the second you step into the apartment, finding Kim and Minho in the kitchen just casually talking to each other while sharing a bowl of fruits. You love how simple yet endearing their interaction is.

"Hey, you're home!" Kim says with a sweet, welcoming smile.

You wave your hand at her and briefly at Minho, "Hi, everyone!" You awkwardly say, feeling like you're interrupting them.

"Have you had dinner?" Kim asks, attentive as always.

"Yeah, I grabbed dinner after work," you lie, but you can always creep your way to the fridge late at night for dinner.

"There's a pie in the fridge. Help yourself to some dessert," she sweetly offers then shoves a piece of blueberry into her mouth.

Without having to look, you can see how Minho looks at you, he has this deep, intense gaze that makes you the slightest bit intimidated.

"I will, thanks," you hurriedly respond, wanting the interaction to end as soon as possible, "I'll just... get into my room."

"Yeah, you should rest," Kim softly mutters.

You hoist your bag higher on your shoulder and head to your room, before you get in, you mutter to them, "Night, guys."

"Night," Kim cheerily says.

You hurriedly get in and catch a glimpse of Minho with his intense stare a second before the door completely closes and clicks in place.

The trick to surviving the night is to wait until they get into the bedroom and put headphones on as you come out of yours, not only to avoid hearing unwanted noises, but you reckon it's only right to take the extra measure to respect their privacy.

As you're listening and catching glimpses of the movie playing on your phone, you walk around the kitchen to prepare your simple, unhealthy dinner: a cup of noodles and a can of soda.

You're quietly eating your dinner by the kitchen counter with the headphones still on and once you finished, you treat yourself to a slice of pie, then put the rest of the pie back into the fridge.

It gets messy as you're munching on the pie while watching the movie on your phone. The cherry filling gets all over your fingers and you hurriedly lick it off before it gets—

"Oh, my God!" You shriek in surprise, seeing someone standing by the fridge. Once you realize it's Minho, you break into laughter.

"I'm just getting a bottle of water," he says, his face illuminated by the glow of the fridge lights.

"I'm sorry," you say while clutching your chest, and a second later, regret for saying it when he should be the one apologizing.

There's something different in the way Minho looks at you, he has one corner of his mouth raised higher than the other, giving you the impression that he's thinking of filthy things when he looks at you like that. He's giving you that look now and it does certain things to you.

He then stops leaning against the fridge, taking the bottle of water as he walks back to the bedroom, leaving his signature faint smirk on the back of your head.

The signals are there, they're subtle yet constantly pinging, asking you to respond. For now, you're going to ignore it like you always do and continue existing like you're not sharing the same space with him.

-

Statement number two: You believe Minho wants to fuck you too.

At first, you thought you imagined it, you want to fuck him so you started being delusional and thinking that he wants to fuck you too. Once you started paying attention though, you realized that what he's been doing to you meant something or some sort of message he tried to deliver.

The first occurrence that came to your realization is when the two of you were in the kitchen, you were enjoying your yoghurt and he suddenly came behind you to get something from the drawer that happened to be blocked by your body. Instead of telling you to step aside, he made you stand there as his hand curved around your waist to get something out of a drawer.

From there, you noticed a lot of things he did, the way he briefly rested his hand on the small of your back as he walked past behind you, his hand that would often brush a part of your body when the two of you are next to each other or the way he would speak close to your ear as if he's seeking to be close to you. Simply put, he always tries to make physical contact with you.

The scariest part of it is not the possibility that the two of you will eventually get caught, but how unfazed he is even when his girlfriend is there. Like that night where the three of you shared the sofa and somehow, his hand found your shoulder and instead of retreating, he continued to caress the nape of your neck with his knuckle.

However, what happens tonight is what makes you believe that he wants the same thing.

After making sure that you're the only one still awake in the vicinity, you make your way to the bathroom to take a nice, hot shower to help you relax and sleep faster. You skip on using the hairdryer since it'll make too much noise and tiptoe your way back to your bedroom.

In the middle of putting on your clothes, you realize that you left the door ajar and you notice Minho is watching through the reflection in the mirror.

Instead of stopping or rushing to close the door, you pretend to not see him there and continue, turning your body to the side, showcasing every curve of your body through the reflection in the mirror.

You arch your back as you put on the night dress over your head and slowly slip yourself in it, shimmying your body as you pull the dress down with your hands. Then you look at him through the reflection in the mirror and make it known that you're aware of his presence.

From the crooked grin on his face, you can tell that Minho is pleased to be caught watching you and you received his signal loud and clear: He wants to fuck you too.

But sadly, tonight's show is over so you walk to the door and close it.

-

Friday afternoon, Kim barges into your room and she rarely comes into your room without knocking on your door. Seeing that she's carrying a dress in her hand, you guess she needs your opinions on her clothing choices.

You sit on the bed and take your headphones off, "What's up, Kim?"

She stands at the end of the bed and lifts the dress with both hands, "What do you think?" She asks.

It's a mini dress with spaghetti straps in a deep purple color and it's a nice dress, you're just not sure if it fits Kim's style that well, she usually opts for dresses with flaring hem and floral prints.

"It's nice, Kim," you say but skip on giving her the detailed explanation.

She puts the dress close to her body and hugs it, "Do you like it?"

"Yeah," you shortly reply, even though it doesn't fit her style well, it certainly will look good on her.

"Good!" She shortly says, handing the dress to you, "Cause you'll be wearing it.

Somehow, you reach for it and awkwardly hold it in front of you, "W-why? Why me?"

Kim goes to your vanity table and flips open your jewelry box, she holds your earrings one by one to find ones that would match the dress.

"You're coming with me to this party," she says, leaving a lot of details in her answer.

"What party?"

"Party at my friend's," she simply answers, deciding on the gold small hoop earrings.

But that's against your plan, you want to steer clear of Minho and party at Kim's friend means that he'd likely be there too.

"Kim, I don't think that's a good idea," you tell her.

She then leans against the desk in your room and crosses her arm together in front of her, "These past few days you refused to hang out with me so you have to hang out with me tonight."

So Kim knows that you've been purposely avoiding her but you need to explain that it's not because of her, "But that's not—"

"Nuh-uh!" She quickly cuts you off again, "Tonight you're going to the party with me," she decides on her own, not accepting any more excuses from you.

"Is it okay though? I mean... it's your friend's party. I don't want to intrude," you meekly say while playing with the strap of the dress.

"Why would it not be okay?" She says, coming to sit on the edge of the bed, "Besides I want to introduce you to Gaspard."

Maybe you owe this one to Kim and hearing a guy's name piques your interest, "And who is Gaspard?"

"A cute guy," she shortly answers with a sly grin on her heart-shaped face, "And you'll like him."

It's not like Minho's presence would bother you that much and Kim needs you, she wants you there, therefore, as a good roommate, you should be there.

"Yeah, okay, I'm in the mood to meet a cute guy tonight," you tell her, not forgetting to show enthusiasm as well.

"That's the spirit!" Kim says with a wide grin dancing on her face.

Well, since you'll be there and possibly meet Minho, Gaspard better be a cute distraction for real.

-

The taxi pulls up in front of a house and you reckon it's where the party at from how many cars are parked outside and the faint thumping of the music playing inside.

The fact that you get here by taxi only means that there's no Minho so you can relax, for now.

Kim excitedly links her arm with you as you both walk into the house and you expect a party with laid-back music and endless glasses of wine but the second you step inside, upbeat music is blasting from around the house and everyone is having beers from red plastic cups.

The party is not what you imagined it would be, but it's what you need.

Kim cranes her neck to find her friends and once she finds them, she raises her hand to signal her arrival to them.

"Come on! Let's meet my friends!" She says.

Please, God, let him be a cute distraction! You repeatedly mutter in your heart as she drags you with her to meet her friends who are gathered in what you guess is a rec room in the house.

When Kim's friends finally come to sight, you put on a smile as you quietly guess which one of them is Gaspard. Kim goes to hug them one by one before introducing you to them.

"This is Ellie, Jena, Paul..." she introduces her friends back to you one by as the mentioned person warmly greets you.

"And Minho," someone adds from behind you.

You immediately look over your shoulder to see Minho standing there, Kim gently slaps his shoulder in response and laughs.

"This is not a roll call, honey," Kim says with a smile and then leans in to give Minho a quick peck on the lips.

Minho is already here and there's no Gaspard yet. No Gaspard means there'll be no distraction. You keep your smile on even though you're slowly descending into distress.

"There he is!" Kim exclaims, pointing at something behind you.

You reflexively turn on your heels and see a tall man with brown hair, striking green eyes, and a scintillating smile. This man will make the perfect distraction.

Please let this man be Gaspard, you deeply wish inside your heart.

Kim comes to your side and puts her arm around you, "This is the man I told you about," she says.

"I hope you only told her nice things about me," Gaspard says with a sly grin that makes his whole face light up.

The universe heard your plea and decided to make it true for you, this is Gaspard, the perfect distraction you want and need.

"Holyfuck..." you lowly mutter in disbelief.

"What's that?" Kim asks, hearing you saying something but doesn't quite catch it.

You've already forgotten where you are and what you're doing. And Minho? Who is Minho? You let out a chuckle and shake these silly thoughts away.

"So this is Gaspard, huh?" You say in all confidence.

"That is me," he answers, returning the confidence with a wide smile, "I'm better than you expected, I guess?"

Gaspard is confident and then gets shy in the next minute which you find charming, you smile at him and say, "I need more time to decide on that."

"That's fair," Gaspard says, offering his hand at you.

You think he's just going to shake your hand but he takes you into the crowd gathered in the middle of the room, dancing.

"A fair warning, I'm a bad dancer," you warn him as he takes your hands in his and makes you stand facing him.

"We still have time to decide on that," he pokes fun at you, taking you by the waist and pulling you close to his front.

Kim is right, Gaspard is cute and you like him already. He has just the right amount of facial hair and it grazes your cheek whenever he leans in to whisper into your ear, giving you a tingling feeling inside and outside.

After a few moments though, you find yourself panting from dancing with him. You should've known this would happen when you're dancing with a real dancer.

Since Gaspard is way taller than you, you have to put your arm around his shoulder and stand on your tiptoe to whisper to his ear, "Hey, how about we get drinks?"

"Drinks?" He asks you in confirmation since the mix of loud music and chatter is filling the room.

"Yeah," you answer while repeatedly nodding your head.

He doesn't say anything but takes your hand and leads the way through the crowd to the kitchen where bottles of liquor are strewn around on the kitchen island.

You intently watch as Gaspard is excitingly making you his special concoction. He finishes it off with a spritz of lemon before handing it to you.

"Thank you," you mutter in gratitude.

"Come on. Taste it!" He encourages you, curious of what you think of his drink-mixing skill.

Well, you've been staring at it long enough to give him the impression that you hesitate to drink it. You hurriedly take a small sip and you don't even have to lie, it's good.

"Wow!" You gasp, impressed with the drink he made.

"I know," he confidently says with a smirk and drinks his drink.

It's so refreshing and sweet like it has no alcohol at all, you hurriedly take another sip.

"It's really good," you tell him.

"Thank you," he says with a grin.

He then offers his hand at you, "Let's find somewhere to talk?"

You take his hand without question, letting him take you wherever he wants because it seems like he knows where he's going. He leads you to the backyard where everyone is hanging out by the pool.

"Hey, you!"

Recognizing the voice, your head snaps toward the source, and see Kim waving her hand at you from the long sofa that curved around a fancy fireplace.

You stop walking on your track and end up leading Gaspard there. You unconsciously let out a sigh of relief after seeing that there's no Minho there.

"Oh, hey," you greet back.

Kim scoots to the side to make space for you on the sofa, "Where have you guys been?"

"Oh, we were just dancing and he made me a drink," you honestly answer, not forgetting to show her the drink in your hand.

"And where were you going to take her, Gaspard?" Kim asks with eyes squinted at him.

"Anywhere but here," he jokingly answers.

"Well, since you guys just got here, it's your turn to play!" Someone says, you can't remember what her name is but she's one of the friends Kim introduced earlier.

"Turn to play? What?" You ask in confusion.

"Two truths and a lie," someone says.

You feel bad for not being able to remember their names, Gaspard's influence is that powerful on you.

"You know how to play, right?" Kim asks.

It's not about whether you know how to play or not, it's just so unexpected that these talented, gorgeous dancers like to play this kind of game at parties.

"Yes, I do," you answer.

Kim turns on the sofa to face you and looks at you in anticipation, "Okay then. Shoot!"

"Right now?"

"Yes," Kim shortly answers with a chuckle.

You admire their eagerness whether for the game or to know something about you, you rake your brain to think of three things about you and one of them should be a lie that would likely fool them good.

"Okay first is uhm... I'm allergic to cats," you share.

There's no response from them but you can see how they're looking at you and probably every detailed facial expression you make that will give away hints about whether you're lying or not.

"Second thing is my mom has a twin," you confidently share with a faint smile.

"Ah," Kim lowly gasps and you guess because you've shared this information with her before.

"Last thing is..." you look around as you think of the last thing to share with them.

You eventually turn to the side and see Gaspard smiling at you, "I think Gaspard is cute," you share the third thing about you.

"That's the one! That's the lie!" Someone excitedly guesses, and you suddenly remember his name as Paul.

You laugh because Gaspard looks so offended by his friend, "No, it's not a lie," you quickly defend him.

Gaspard shoots him a glare and triumphantly laughs, "Just drink, man!"

Paul drinks his beer in defeat.

"I must say the second one is the lie," the girl says again, still can't remember her name though.

"No. Her mom has a fraternal twin," Kim says, learning that information from you on the first day you moved into her apartment.

"Drink up, Jena!" Kim tells her that she guessed wrong and not wasting time but drinks her beer as a punishment.

"Oh, so you're not allergic to cats?" Gaspard asks.

"No, I'm not. I like cats," you answer.

He then sighs in relief, "That's great because I have a cat."

"Oh, wow?!" You utter in disbelief.

Other than being a great distraction, you share a lot in common with Gaspard and that says something.

"I also have cats," someone adds, joining in on the circle.

You can tell by the voice that it's the man you've been trying to avoid seeing tonight. You remain calm and have a sip of your drink.

"Yes, Minho, we all know you're a cat daddy," Jena says, finally knowing her name from Kim.

Kim groans and tosses a cushion at Jena, "Don't say that!"

Minho takes a gulp of Kim's drink and sits with his back reclined and his legs spread open, even his sitting position oozing with confidence and you eat that shit up.

You feel like slapping your face at that thought and have another sip to swallow that thought down.

"Is it my turn to play?" Minho asks around.

Jena shrugs since no one is taking the turn to play, "Yeah, sure, go ahead."

Minho softly scratches his chin before speaking, "I want to kiss someone tonight."

He starts easy but from the faint smirk on his face, you can tell he's brewing something in his mind.

"That someone is not my girlfriend," he calmly says.

Welp, there you go! Minho acts like he didn't just drop a shocking statement while his girlfriend is sitting prettily next to him.

You glance at Kim and she looks calm, but you can see that her jaws are slightly clenched. She's not happy so Minho should stop it.

But instead of calming his girlfriend, Minho looks at you and continues to share the third statement, "The person I want to kiss is one of you."

Your heart skips a beat because he keeps looking right at you and making it obvious for everyone to see who it is. All of a sudden, you feel the urge to exit this scene but walking out only makes it even more obvious.

Minho is sick of doing this to you and Kim, it's like he doesn't even care what it can do to either you or Kim.

"Oh, Minho, that's..." Paul hisses, not able to finish his sentence.

"Why, Paul?" Minho daringly asks him.

"Nothing," Paul says while scratching his head.

Minho leans forward and says, "It's you, Paul. It's you who I want to kiss."

Paul's tense face melts in a second and everyone bursts out laughing, "Fuck you, man!"

"It's you. I want to kiss you," Minho taunts him more, throwing himself at him and jokingly tries to kiss him.

Paul keeps pushing him away, sloshing his drink as he tries to dodge Minho's kiss while everyone else is laughing at them.

Even though it turns out to be a joke, you feel sick in the stomach and feel the need to get out of here.

"I need to go to the restroom," you mutter, getting up from the sofa.

Gaspard puts down his drink, "I can show you—"

"It's okay. I can go by myself," you tell him off, you regret being so crass but you're sure he'll understand.

"Okay," he says, sitting back down on the sofa.

While clutching the hem of your dress, you head back inside the house and find the bathroom to only queue to get inside, you decide to try on the second floor. You can easily find the bathroom as it's wedged between two bedrooms.

It's a party, you're sure the host would be okay with you using their bathroom, you don't even need to pee or something, you just need a space to vent.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you keep muttering to the reflection in the mirror.

When you touch your neck, you can feel a sheen of sweat there so you run your hands under the cold water and tap it to your neck.

This is the first time you realize what it'll do to you when it comes to following your desire. You'll ruin not only their relationship but also your friendship with Kim and she's been nothing but good to you.

"Fuck!" You mutter once again as you splash cold water on your face like it would help to put some sense into you.

Coming here was a bad idea!

But you're already here so you only need to stick to your plan, staying away from Minho and sticking with Gaspard. You allow yourself to spend a few more minutes just to compose yourself before coming out of the bathroom.

As you're about to climb down the stairs, the plan comes to a failure.

You see Minho is coming up the stairs and he seems to be looking for you as well from the way he stops once he finds you.

Instead of avoiding him as you planned, you feel the need to confront him about what happened a while ago. You grab the front of his shirt and take him into one of the bedrooms. The first one is locked so you try the other one and it's empty.

Once both of you are inside, you slam the door shut and push him against it.

"What the hell are you doing?" You aggressively ask, pushing his chest until his back hits the door.

"What? What am I doing?" He plays innocent but that smirk knows it all.

You slap his chest with both of your hands now but all you can feel is how firm his pecs are.

"You just don't care, do you?"

He puts his hands on each side of your waist and draws you closer, not hesitating to plant his mouth on your jaw.

"Minho!" You whine, ending up getting trapped in his hold with his arms wrapped tightly around you.

He glides his lips up and presses a kiss there on the skin under your ear, sending a tingling down your spine as his warm breath brushes your skin.

You helplessly dodge away from his lips yet somehow, he manages to capture your lips in a kiss and oh, you hate it so much! You hate how you like the way he kisses you, so passionately and hungrily, he makes it known that he wants it so much.

Okay, maybe the kiss is a slip-up and you hurriedly pull yourself out of it. You push him and pull away from the kiss.

"You know we can't do this," you mutter but you're looking at his lips, tempted to kiss him again.

He ignores your words and kisses you again, and you fall into it again. You try harder this time and break the kiss.

"Minho!" You whine, looking away to not let the temptation win again.

Using it as an opportunity, Minho plants his mouth on your ear and nibbles on it, peeling a layer off of your sanity which brings you to slip down the slope again.

Your lips are colliding again, harder and deeper, causing even more damage than the previous one as his hands go all over you and pull the straps of your dress down your shoulders.

The two logics in your head are clashing against each other, the one wants to satisfy this desire and the other wants to get out of this situation altogether. If you follow the former then at least, your curiosity will be fulfilled and if you follow the latter, then you get to keep the peace.

As you are caught in that inner battle, you blank out and stiffen against him.

"We have to stop," you mutter to him.

But is that what you want? To stop when you already have your toes dipped in the water?

Minho also takes a moment to assess the situation, he looks at you with his lips red and wet, "it has to stop," he says in agreement.

You take a step back and feel the sudden detachment as he lets go of you and you can't believe that he agrees right away that this is the better decision. You can't help but think that he doesn't want you enough.

He stays standing there, leaning against the door and looking at you with his eyes dark and wide with lust.

"So what do we do now?"

That's such a wrong thing to ask you because what you want to do now is be selfish for the night, for one fucking night, and if you're going to do it, you may as well go all in, right?

Take the chance or pass? Right or wrong? Continue or stop? Now or never?

"Fuck!" you heavily sigh and take down the straps of your dress, sending your breasts spilling out of the front.

"Suck my tits," you order.

It takes Minho a moment to process it and when he finally catches on that you've made up your mind, he goes for it. He comes at you full speed, hands off the brake and head first.

His mouth lathers at your breasts before sucking at them like you asked, taking them in turns, and leaving them wet with his saliva.

"Nibble on my nipples," you command.

You look down to watch him obeying you, using his tongue to nibble on your blossoming buds and alternating it with his teeth next.

"Oh, fuck," you breathlessly mutter as he sucks hard on your nipple.

While his mouth is busy latching on your breasts, his hands are snaking to the back and kneading at your asscheeks, caressing them with his fingers, and teasing your underwear.

This feels so wrong yet so good, you have your inner battle still but your logic is being defeated by your body's needs. You pull him by the shoulder and make him kiss you again so you'll stop thinking.

The rattles on the door startle you both and Minho immediately pushes the door with his back, then holds the knob to not let anyone in. Whoever tries to get it seems to figure out that the room is occupied.

"Sorry," someone says from behind the door.

Minho immediately locks the door while you take a step back from him, he gives you that look again, the kind of look that sees right through you and knows that you feel conflicted inside.

"Kim is my good friend," you tell him, feeling a pang of sadness in your chest that it aches.

He comes at you again and kisses you in which you're returning with the same eagerness. He seems to know that it's the only way to make you stop talking and thinking altogether. He pulls you closer than before his hands snaking to your rear, cupping the ample flesh in his hand.

"This is terrible," you mutter as you break the kiss so you can take your underwear off.

"This is terrible..." you mutter again, pulling him close by the waistband of his jeans and proceeding to unzip his fly open, "Betraying her like this."

It's like your body has a mind of its own, it's doing the opposite of what you're saying.

You impatiently take his semi-hard out of its confine and stroke it in your hand, "terrible," you emphasize the word and nail it deep into your head.

Minho doesn't say anything but follows what your body wants, he kisses you again, sloppily with his hands mindlessly roaming around your body.

"Touch me there," you whisper into him.

Without looking, his hand knows where to go. It goes to where you want him to be, going to the front to that wetness between your legs.

"Put your fingers in."

Minho runs his fingers down your slit repeatedly before inserting his finger into you. One digit is enough to make you moan in pleasure as he pumps it in and out of you.

"Add one more."

He draws his finger out and brings his index and middle fingers, shoving them into your mouth to wet them with your saliva. He brings them back to your entrance and slowly pushes them inside.

"Fuck, oh..." you moan, burying your head in his neck.

Two fingers are going in and out of you and you're already losing it. You start to think of what his cock would be like inside you as it feels hot and hard in your hand, pulsating with so much desire.

His lips nestle in your neck, kissing and lightly sucking on the skin as your body clings to him for support.

"Curl them— Oh!"

Minho knows what to do, he curls his fingers and carefully finds that spot that makes you whine and moan at the same time, and the lewd noise echoes in the dimly lit room.

You look over your shoulder to locate the bed and start steering his body there, walking backward without having to take hands off of each other.

He slowly pulls out and breaks the kiss only to pull your dress up, making the dress hunched around your waist. You plop down onto the bed and get on, you take a moment to continue undoing his jeans and pull it down enough to let his erection free.

Without thinking, you put his cock into your mouth, take him as much as you can and compensate for the rest you can't take with your hand. You lick and suck, alternating those two as you enjoy every inch of his delicious length with your mouth.

Minho tangles his hand in your hair and gently tugs at it, "I feel so guilty," he says.

Oh, so he's not that selfish after all but the thought of him thinking of his girlfriend with his cock deep in your mouth doesn't make you jealous at all, it makes you feel more aroused than before.

"Oh, so guilty," he says between his hoarse, low moans as he stares back into your eyes.

You slowly pull away and replace your mouth with your hand, restlessly pumping his swollen cock.

"You should be," you tell him, sticking your tongue out of your mouth and swirling it around the pink tip of his cock.

All of a sudden, he grabs your hand and takes it away from his length, he then takes your other hand to pin it against the bed. He hovers above you as he kisses you again, his tongue prying open your mouth to taste more of you.

You can feel him rubbing his length between your folds and you spread your legs open so he can do it more, making you drenched than you already are.

It's obvious to you now that you want him, you want him so bad and what you want is only inches away from you, and you can feel how much he wants you.

"Put it in," you breathlessly say against his lips.

Minho wastes no time to position himself between your legs. He then holds his cock, lubricating it with your essence and giving it a few pumps to finally aims it toward your entrance.

The more time he takes to be inside you, the more impatient you get.

"Put it deep inside me," you demand, opening your legs wider for him.

Yet Minho keeps teasing your entrance, heightening your anticipation and the tension in the room, making you arching your back at him.

When he finally pushes in, he only inserts the tip. It's just the tip but Gosh! It feels good already when he starts thrusting at a slow, steady pace.

"That's it," you say, keeping your waist afloat to take more of him, "all the way in."

Minho is just as impatient. He takes your wish as his command and pushes the rest of his length into you, hitting you deep inside that you blank out and you can't hear your own scream of pleasure.

It only registered to you now that it's all real once you take a look at how his cock is fully buried deep inside you and there's nothing like the feeling of finally having your desire fulfilled. Minho feels so good inside you, every inch of his length fills you perfectly like he was made just for you.

"Oh..." you loudly moan as he starts moving.

You're in and out of you at how hard he's thrusting into you that it reverberates throughout your body and in the middle of it, you manage to look at him, his face is masked with pleasure from the way his eyes are half shut and his lips pressed together.

Maybe the two of you want it so much that the sex feels rushed and a little rough, almost animalistic even. You can feel you're about to cum and so is he.

"Don't cum inside," you warn him before bringing his head close for a sloppy kiss on his lips.

In return, Minho goes sloppy with his thrusts that the bed quakes along with his movements and you're gripping the sheet to hold on to. He's twitching inside you and your legs are shaking. The knot in your stomach keeps tightening and you feel like exploding at any minute now.

He incessantly thrusts into you while you keep gripping the sheet, he probably senses that you're on the brink of climaxing and takes you there, sending you into your release with your eyes screwed shut, seeing white. He cums not long after you and keeps himself deep into you, completely forgetting your warning.

When it occurs to you that he completely forgot about your warning, you slowly push him away and force him to pull out of you.

"I told you not to cum inside," you whine.

Minho's eyes fixated on the way his cum drips out of you, pearly white and glistening wet, inviting him to taste. He finds a way to solve it by settling his head between your legs and licking your mixed juices off of your cunt and not hesitating to swallow it. He sucks on your gushing hole before using his tongue to insert it, he makes sure to not leave any drop of his cum in you.

Watching him eating you and swallowing his own cum is getting you off in the best way, you suddenly don't mind it that much that he cum inside you. If anything, you want him to fill you so you get to watch him do it all over again.

"Stop, Minho! Stop!" You tell him, tugging at his hair to stop him from diving further into your wetness.

He abruptly stops and lifts his head with his mouth and chin glistening wet with your essence. You grab him by the front of his shirt and make him hover above you again. You know you already got what you want and it's time to stop.

What are you going to do now? You ask yourself.

Seize the chance. This is probably the last time you ever had this chance and this could be the one and only chance. You roll him over and straddle him, thinking of having him again for the last time, selfishly.

Taking a moment for this could be the only chance you get to do it, you look at him and his beautiful face, and you allow yourself to kiss his lips. You're running your hands down his clothed chest and patiently unbuttoning his shirt, then part it open to reveal his toned upper half body.

It's only fair if you get to touch him all over too so you do it, using your hands and your lips next, it's just you and miles and miles of his warm, honey skin.

Minho lets you do everything as he lays on his back, watches you kissing every inch of his abdomen, and eventually has him in your mouth again. He props his hands against the bed to see how your lips wrapped around his cock.

After a while, you suddenly pull out and gasp for air, "We have to stop."

He sits up on the bed and puts your hair away from your face, "But I don't want to stop," he says, then continues putting your hair away to the back so he can kiss your neck, chest, and breasts.

They're just words, they've been just words that you say in vain and have no effect to make you stop whatsoever. You only say that just to remind you that this feels so wrong but it feels good to do it.

You sit on his lap and position his cock at your entrance again, slowly, you lower yourself on him. You let out a mewl as you take him in little by little, feeling his girth stretching you out.

"Do you want to stop?" He asks you with his hands cradling your head in between.

"We have to," you sigh with your eyes closed, overwhelmed by his cock that buries deep inside you.

"I don't want to," he breathlessly says, holding you by the waist, guiding you to start moving.

Putting your arms around his shoulders for support, you're switching between pulsating and rolling your hips around him as he latches his lips on your neck and chest.

Somehow, he feels bigger and harder inside you, and he fills you better, therefore, you just want to keep feeling his length around you. However, in the middle of it, your logic fights to come out of you.

"This is wrong," you breathlessly mutter.

"Mmh-hmm," he hums against your lips, mindlessly answering to you.

"This is so wrong, Minho," you say again as you keep moving to chase your high.

If this is wrong then why it feels so good? If this is wrong then you never want to be right. If this is wrong then you want to be a sinner, forever.

"Oh, I can't do this anymore," you cry, it's unclear whether it's the body or your conscience speaking.

"Keep going, keep going," he repeatedly mutters through his gritted teeth, watching you bouncing on his cock.

The sex is more intense and harder than the previous one, you keep holding your breath even though you're running out of air. Your nails dug into his skin, your mouth locked with his lips, and you feel a sheen of sweat forming on your skin.

It all comes down to the one moment when everything hits you all at once. Other than the wave of dopamine and oxytocin that surge through your body, you feel good, you feel light and happy, but underneath that, you feel that bitter feeling, guilt that is gnawing and eating you alive from the inside.

You open your eyes and find Minho looking at you with a soft gaze and it feels tender that you feel like crying, or you're about to as you feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

"Oh, God! What have I done?" You roughly brush the hair stuck to your moist forehead.

"It's okay," Minho says, trying to justify this act of betrayal.

"Oh, my God!" You press the heels of your palms to your eyes to stop you from crying.

Minho gently holds your chin and softly presses a kiss on your lips as if he's trying to take the pain away but that's useless because you caused this yourself and he's a part of the problem.

But his kiss no longer holds the same effect, you feel restless the more he kisses you so you slowly pull away and keep a safe space between you and him.

"Let's just stop," you say with a sigh and then rush to get off his lap. You lowly gasp from the sudden emptiness and once your feet touch the floor, you're staggering backward.

Then, you feel it, his hot cum that drips out of you and down your inner thigh.

"I can help you with that," Minho offers.

You immediately hold your hand up at him and firmly say, "Just stop!"

You start fixing your dress, putting your arm in the straps, and pulling them to your shoulders. You look around for your underwear and once you find it, you put it on.

"Kim can't know about this," you meekly say as you pull the hem of your dress and smooth them down.

There's no looking back at it now. You've got what you wanted and now it's time to move on. You turn the door knob and head out without saying anything else.

Rejoining the party downstairs, you immediately head to the kitchen to get a drink but on the way there, someone catches you by the hand.

"Come, dance with me!" Kim says with a grin, pulling you with her to the middle of the room.

"Kim, I–" you can't find anything to say to her without the guilt clogging your throat, "I need a drink."

"Here. Have mine!" She hands you her cup.

"I'll get us drinks and get back to you, okay?" You kindly refuse her but she won't let go of your hand.

"Oh, come on, it's my favorite song!" She pleads with her puppy eyes, making you feel worse than you already are.

Seeing her and how oblivious she is to what you and Minho have done is breaking your heart.

That brings you to the third and last statement: That will be the first and the last time you've had sex with Minho.

-

Things are going back to normal. Or that's what it seems to you.

You're still roommates with Kim and she's still oblivious about what you and Minho did behind her back which means he keeps true to his promise.

And yes, he still comes to the apartment but it doesn't bother you as it used to. You learn that your friendship with Kim is far more valuable than his boyfriend's cock, in fact, you've been taking her kindness for granted.

So for these past few days, you've been trying to avoid them as much as possible. You purposely come home late from work and if you do find them together in the apartment, you make excuses to stay in your bedroom.

Fewer interactions means fewer chances of this guilt from bringing you down further.

The new plan is to get your own place as soon as possible and for that to happen, you have to start looking for it.

Today, Gaspard offers to help you check a few places and it's also the perfect getaway than staying in the apartment. You quietly get dressed and slip out of your bedroom to find Kim catches you while dunking her teabag into her cup.

"Where are you going?" She asks.

You don't want to tell her about it yet that you plan on moving out soon so you make up an excuse on the spot, "Just getting a few things for work, yeah," you lie.

She tosses the teabag into the trash and uses a spoon to stir it, "Just getting a few things for work, huh?"

"Yeah, I need new work shoes," you lie again, seamlessly this time.

"And you think you don't need my help?"

"No, no," you hastily reply, "I just know how much you like staying in on the weekends."

"I would to go out on the weekend too."

Kim keeps misunderstanding you so you decide to tell her, "I'm going out with Gaspard," you admit, but keep the details from her.

Kim lets out a laugh and puts down her cup of tea, "Oh, my God! Why did you lie about it?"

"I don't know. It feels weird," you awkwardly answer.

"Why would it be weird? Cause he's my friend?"

"Yeah..." you meekly say.

She laughs again and comes up to you, "Why would it be weird that my roommate is going out with my good friend?"

That's true, this is nothing compared to fucking your roommate's boyfriend. You swallow the guilt that crawls out of your throat.

"I can lend you my shoes to match it with that cute dress?" She offers, kind as always.

"No, it's fine. It's comfortable this way," you say, opting for the sneakers you're wearing since you're going to do a lot of walking today.

"As long as you're comfortable," she says, fixing your hair as she speaks.

The front door opens and the two of you are turning your heads to see who's coming, it's none other than Minho. You hurriedly sling your purse around your shoulder and ready to leave.

"I'd better get going," you tell Kim, giving her a quick hug.

"You can come home as late as you want," she jokingly says as she hugs you back, "Actually, don't bother coming home tonight."

You laugh it off and pull away while ignoring Minho who walks to the kitchen to get something out of the fridge. You head for the door and wave bye at Kim before getting out.

-

The search for a new place comes to fruition, you have two potential living spaces but the only problem is you can't afford the rent, yet.

You end the day with a hearty dinner also as a treat for Gaspard for being so helpful and patient with you. He's simply a great guy to be with and you wonder why didn't you want to fuck him instead of Minho.

Oh fuck, you think about Minho again and it reminds you that he's in the apartment now so you stay out as late as you can. You consider Gaspard's offer to come and visit his place but you don't want to give him the impression that this is a date.

It's too casual to be counted as a date in the first place but you make sure to promise him a proper one next time.

"Maybe next time when I'm not sweaty and the day is not as humid as today," you kindly refuse the offer.

"I agree," he says as his hair turns a lot curler in this humidity and shyly brushes it to the back.

He walks you to the entrance of your apartment building and you turn on your feet to face him, "Thank you for today," you sincerely say.

"No worries. I had fun today," he coyly says with a smile.

You know he wants to kiss you and you want to kiss him too because he's just so attractive and fun to be with, he's a great guy... you can list so many reasons why you should kiss him so you muster up the courage to do it.

You stand on your tiptoe and press a kiss on his lips, putting your hand on his shoulder for support and Gaspard returns the kiss with so much gentleness with his hand cupping your jaw.

In the middle of it, you come to a realization that you kiss him for so many reasons but not because you like him. You slowly pull away from the kiss and quickly put on a smile for him.

"Goodnight, Gaspard," you mutter.

He allows himself to place a gentle caress on your cheek and smiles back at you as he says back, "Goodnight!"

The walk back to the apartment feels like a punishment. At least, it's late enough that you're sure Kim is already asleep by now so you quietly unlock the door, pushing it open without making any noise, and walk through the living room until you get to the safety of your room.

You kick your shoes off, throw your purse onto the bed, and take off your jacket, just standing there in your dress facing the huge mirror with your reflection staring back at you.

"Do you need help with that?" Minho asks through the cracks of your door.

You hate it that he's still here and you're happy to see him, you're not answering but he comes to your aid anyway. He stands right behind you and slowly unzips your dress for you.

It must be intentional the way his knuckles graze your skin as he pulls the zipper down your back.

The memories from that night come back to you and unlock all the feelings that you try to keep at the bottom of your heart.

Minho then places his hand on your shoulder and looks at you through the mirror, "Do you need help with anything else?" He asks with a voice so low it's almost like a whisper.

You turn your head to the side and meet his gaze, "No."

All sorts of thoughts come rushing through your head but it's the same contradicting questions: Take the chance or pass? Right or wrong? Continue or stop? Now or never?

Those questions going around your head and won't stop bothering you until you make up your mind.

You turn around to face him and notice how close he's standing in front of you, so close that you can feel the heat his body is emitting.

"But I'll help myself," you say and then kiss him.

Well, you guess people can tell which one is the lie now.

-

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[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi losing what is left of his patience when you get injured by a demon

Pairing: Sanemi x wife!reader

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: Despite the fact that your husband is the opposite of your quiet and kind self, you love him dearly while Sanemi treasures you in a purely unique way. But even though you learned to love his rough side the way it is, you can't stop tears from falling when your husband loses it after you get injured by a demon

Warning: this is THE angst to fluff y'all, Sanemi is a rough but soft boi I'm so weak for him in this fic omgomgomg, been listeing to again by noah cyrus and lana del rey while writing this, injury + angst + near death experience

this might be my favorite sanemi fic coming from my own hands so PLEASE if you feel the same, I'm super thankful for a lil like, comment or even reblog. THANK YOU SO MUCH 🤍

Oh, it was never easy, being the wife to none other than the wind hashira. When you’re quiet he’s noisy, when you’re put together he’s all over the place, while you act loving and kind Sanemi shows his devilish side.

But there was not once a day that made you second-guess your decision, not a single moment that made you feel something apart from deep affection for that man. It doesn’t matter that you are the opposite of him in each and every sense. He’s yours. And you’ll forever be his.

“Sanemi!”

Your oh so sweet voice echoes like a well-composed melody through his ears, makes him forget the wave of anger that washed over him earlier. Just seeing you standing there in the yukata he gifted you years ago while holding a dish with ohagi in your hands allows him to forget all the shit that happened for a brief second.

“Didn’t I tell you that you aren’t allowed to overwork yourself?”, he grumbles before sitting down opposite of you.

You look as good as always with your hair well-brushed and kind eyes lit by the down-going sun. What would his life look like if it didn’t contain of coming home to you? You, his only ray of sunshine. You, the only one who’s able to calm his temper down. Just you, his beloved wife. Who would have thought that out of all hashira, he’d be the one who treasures his wife the most?

“It’s not me who is overworked, but you. Did you get bruised again?”, you question with your melodic voice.

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“Will you stay home tonight?”

“I definitely hope so. If that crow disturbs my sleep again…”

“You have an important roll to fulfil, as a hashira-“

“’It’s my honor to bring peace to those who aren’t able to look out for themselves.’ Yeah, I already know.”

In contrary to his harsh tone, his fingertips caress your cheek gently while his eyes soften in an instant. It was hard, learning how to read him. When you first met, it was not uncommon that you broke out in tears after he talked to you like that. But now, after 4 years of getting to know him, you never lose your kind smile.

“How was your day?”, he continues.

With a swift motion, he pulls you between his legs and presses your head against his bare chest while his strong arms keep you in place. This are the moments that make your life worth living. Just you and your husband, arm in arm, watching the sunset in nothing but peace and silence.

“I enjoyed the nice weather while taking care of the garden. The tulips look exceptionally beautiful this season.”

“They’ll never be as beautiful as you, though”, he replies with low voice.

If life could stay like that. Oh, what you’d give to never let go of him again…

-later that night-

“Wind pillar, wind pillar! An emergency occurred! Countless demons were spotted nearby! The demon slayer corps need your assistance-“

“Can you just shut the fuck up”, Sanemi mumbles while pulling you closer sleep-drunken.

Immediately, you are wide awake. Nearby demons?

“Sanemi, you need to get up. What if someone gets injured?”, you whisper into the dark night.

“So what?”

You stare at him through the veil of darkness, not daring to say another word. He will get up eventually. He always does.

“Urgh, fine…Time to kill some demons, then”, he finally grumbles and drags himself away from you in order to put on his uniform.

“You stay here until I get back. Even if our estate is build pretty safe and I’ll rip off the heads of the demons around first, I don’t want you to be out there on your own. Got it?”, he instructs you before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead like he always does.

“I will. Please be careful and watch out for yourself”, you whimper.

It’s a challenge to let go of him each and every night he is forced to leave. He might be a hashira, but what if he doesn’t return by sunrise some day? What if he meets an upper-ranked demon unexpectedly? Just when he’s about to leave, you grab his hand one last time.

“And don’t act reckless”, you add.

No matter how much it hurts to let go of his hand, you know you have no other choice. This is the life you chose, the price you have to pay in order to call that wonderful man your beloved husband.

“I can never promise you that”, he replies before leaving you alone in the now cold and awkwardly dark room.

Everything will turn out alright. It just has to…

You don’t know how long you’ve been awake already. Minutes? Hours? All you’re able to do is stare at the ceiling above, ears perking up with every minor movement of the trees outside. Surely, Sanemi will return soon. Being the skilled fighter he is, it normally takes him at most two hours until he returns with his sheets still a little warm. But aren’t those two hours over already?

Another noise outside catches your attention. Is it a tree again? You furrow your eyebrows, immediately sitting up straight while staring outside the window. No, this almost sounds like the whimpers of a child. A child outside at this hour?

You swallow hard. A child outside when there are demons reported around this area?

“P-please, someone help me! I-I’m so s-scared!”

Your heart drops to the floor. There is no doubt in the fact that this has to be a child. Your mind starts racing back and forth. It would be absolutely unacceptable to leave that poor soul out on its own, especially when you can’t know if the area is really free of demons. But on the other hand…You bite your lip when your husband’s words replay themselves in your head.

“No matter what happens when I’m gone. Don’t. Go. Out. On. Your. Own. At. Night. Need me to spell it, (y/n)? Never ever, not in a million years. Got it?”

Not under any circumstances. Your husband made that very clear countless times. But does that include a helpless child outside your estate in the middle of the night? You aren’t a fighter like Sanemi is, even refused to keep an emergency katana in the house just in case. There is no way you could harm a single soul, not even a demon. Leaving a child outside in the middle of the night…isn’t that just as unforgivable?

Sanemi said that he’ll take care of the demons around first. That means you’re safe, right? But even if that poor child doesn’t face danger in the form of a demon, it will certainly freeze with that cold breeze rushing over the land these days.

“P-please, is someone there? I’m s-so tired and s-so cold…I…I can’t walk anymore…”

Your heart aches with every word. No matter how much value the promise you made towards your husband holds in your heart, you simply can’t stand the thought of ignoring an innocent little child that needs your help.

“Why are you out there all on your own, where are your parents?”, you shout into the darkness of your home while making your way to the door.

Is it really okay, breaking the promise you’ve made like that? You grab the handle of the door tightly. This might be the only time you’re actually useful. Without any skills apart from cooking, you can only watch from the side-lines how the demon slayer corps save the world. Maybe this is your chance to do a little something as well, your chance to actually be helpful.

You swing your door open while holding your breath.

“Where are you? Let’s get you inside and grab a warm tea, okay? You must be freezing”, you speak out gently, eyes scanning the garden for the little figure.

“I’m right here!”, the innocent voice cries out to your right.

Instantly, you pick up your pace and sprint towards the tiny figure lying in the grass. Oh no, you can’t imagine what this little child has been through, how it even got here. Did it get lost in the woods and failed to return before the night came? You’ll have to prepare a guestroom right away, just after inviting this little one in-

“Foolish woman.”

Time stands still, your glossy orbs starts to tremble when the tiny figure in front of you starts to build itself up, grows taller and taller until it surpasses your own height by multiple inches. This…this isn’t a child.

Your eyes widen in sheer horror, blood rushing through your ears so violently that you feel like fainting any given minute after it strucks you like lighting.

You were tricked by a demon. After Sanemi warned you over and over, you fell for the lousy trick of a demon. Out of instinct you start stumbling backwards, glossy eyes darted towards the horrific creature with bright red eyes and fangs bigger than your own head.

“I waited patiently until that demon slayer was gone. A young and beautiful woman like you sure tastes nice. Now that I’m seeing you fully, you were definitely worth the wait. I’m sure your flesh tastes excellent.”

Your blood freezes in your veins. Is this really how your life will come to an end? Because you didn’t listen to your husband, because you wanted to be somehow useful? How will Sanemi react, finding out that you were killed? Suddenly your legs threaten to give in and force you to come to a stand. It’s not like you’d be able to defend yourself in any kind of way when all you ever did was taking care of Sanemi and your imaginary perfect life.

A perfect life, ruined by one night of carelessness.

His face flashes in front of your inner eyes, the kind smile he always wore when he didn’t know you were watching. Despite the flaws others see in him, his hot temper and the way he treats his little brother, you are head over heels for him. Your husband, your everything, your Sanemi. A perfect little marriage, ruined by you.

“Don’t”, you hush into the night like the fool you’re are.

“How much I love hearing you little women beg not to get killed. Music in my ears!”

He dashes towards, ready to slice your throat open single-handed. Out of instinct, you let yourself fall backwards into the wet grass, watching how his claws brush over your forehead with enough force to discolour your vision red.

“Nice moves. You seem really healthy. That’s actually even better”, the demon purrs.

This is it. Your final moment on this earth, killed through the hands of a demon in your own well-groomed garden. You never imagined it all to go down like this, not when you’re still so young and full of love.

You didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye, to tell Sanemi one final time how much you adore him and that you’ll love him through everything. Will he be okay? The man who lost almost everything, who has to live with a burden heavier than earth itself balanced on his strong shoulders. This…this will break him even more.

“Any last words?”, the demon jeers at you.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat. No, there is nothing this creature deserves to hear from you, not even a single scream will escape your lips. You rest your lids, picture his oh so gorgeous face in front of your inner eye. If you only had more time, if you only listened. Your beloved marriage, vanishing in thin air.

“I’m sorry Sanemi. I’m so so sorry…”

When will it be over?

“Touch her and you’ll die.”

What...No, this is impossible, you have to be dreaming-

“Or nah, you’ll die anyway.”

 The urge to open your eyes again becomes unbearable.

Your heart skips a beat. Instead of getting greeted by the claws of the demon, you’re able to read it very clearly.

“Destroy.”

This back, so familiar broad…

“Sanemi?”

“Didn’t I tell you to stay inside the house?”, he barks over his shoulder.

It happens faster than your eyes are able to follow. One high jump, one slash of his sword and the demon’s head falls onto the soft grass in front of you. Immediately, you are surrounded by dust rising towards the moon.

“What were you even thinking?”

Before you’re even able to feel relieved your husband storms towards you, not a single spark of affection gleaming in his furious eyes.

“You promised over and over”, he screams on top of his lungs.

“I’m-“

“And you fucking lied into my face!”

Roughly, he grabs your Yukata with both hands and yanks your throbbing figure towards him.

“I’m so-“

“Is all of this a joke to you? Don’t you trust your husband enough to do as you’re told!? You’ve had this one job, that one fucking job to stay inside the house!”

“Sanemi, I-“

“Are you out of your goddamn mind? Did you really want to die right here?”

“Sanemi…”

You breathe his name into the night with strangled voice, tears now streaming down your face like a waterfall. You made a reckless mistake, but none of this happened because you wanted to hurt him. His words, his furious gaze, his hardened eyes so venomous that you have to look away dig themselves like knives into your already fragile heart and simply take your breath away. Out of all feelings, your husband is livid at you.

“I…I’m sorry”, you finally press out.

“You could have died, (y/n). You know that?”

He pulls you towards himself even harder, his hands fisting the fabric of your yukata so tightly that you fear he might rip it.

“You could have died and I couldn’t have done a single fucking thing. Losing you…Fuck!”

He yanks your chin upwards with one hand, forces you to look at him through your wet lashes. But you aren’t greeted by his stone-cold glare. No, are those…tears shimmering in his orbs? What’s left of your heart breaks in an instant.

“I can’t lose you. Not you, not the love of my life. Not another loved one. I couldn’t fucking stand this shitty world without you by my side. How many times did I tell you to stay inside the house when I’m gone at night?”, he screams at you.

“I-I’m sorry”, you hush through shaky lips.

“You’re my everything. Fuck, I love you so much…Losing you like that…”

The next second you find yourself devoured in his strong arms, holding you pressed against his chest so tightly that you can feel his heart pounding.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, (y/n). Never”, he mutters into your hair while caressing your bloody hair.

“I’m sorry”, you mumble again.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Are you hurt? You’re bleeding, goddamn. Let’s get you inside, this needs to get stitched up.”

You don’t dare to contradict, allowing him to carry you back into safety with your arms cramped around his neck.

You’re safe. Sanemi is absolutely furious with you, but the worry in his eyes, the gleam…You bury your head inside his uniform, desperately trying to escape your own foolishness. None of this would have happened if you just stayed inside like he told you. If you were smart enough…

“How did he get you outside?”, Sanemi finally breaks the silence while cleaning your wound.

“He played a scared and lost child”, you mumble.

“Huh, what I thought. You’d never break a promise over nothing”, Sanemi replies, his voice a little softer than before.

“I know you tried to help, but never to shit like that again. When I saw you lying there and your blood on the grass, I almost died. You’re my everything, my wife. I can’t lose you because of a demon, you hear me? I was so damn worried about you…”

“I just wanted to do something…useful…”

“Useful? Are you too dumb to see how useful you are?”, he bites back.

Sanemi stops barking at you immediately after seeing how glossy your eyes turn all over again. No matter how fucking mad he is right now, he can’t hurt you any further. It’s clear you acted out of the right motives, he shouldn’t scream at you like that. Especially since you almost died tonight. Not his wife, not when you’re everything he has.

“I treasure you more than everything else in this world. You’re the reason I’m still believing there’s something good left here. Don’t you dare to risk your important life like that again, got it?”, he gently continues before caressing your cheek the way you love so much.

“I never wanted to cause you this much trouble. I…I was acting dumb…”, you mutter, intertwining your fingers with his.

“We’re all a little dumb from time to time, yeah? Let’s go back to sleep, that was more than enough for one night.”

You don’t hesitate when he pulls you along into the oh so inviting sheets. With him by your side, they definitely feel way more inviting. With him by your side, you don’t have to fear a single nightmare haunting you down this frightful night.

“At least I’m having an excuse now for a day off tomorrow. I love you, (y/n). So so much”, Sanemi mumbles into your hair, holding you so comforting against his chest that sleep washes over you almost immediately.

“I love you too, Sanemi…”

There is no doubt in the fact that Sanemi held you even closer each and every night after almost losing you through the hands of a demon.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @skeleton-the-gangser (reader isn't pregnant in that one, but the vibe is the same as with the Yoriichi fic you enjoyed)

[nattblacklupin]

Happy 2

Pairing: Cassian x Fem! Reader

Warnings: kinda suggestive, mention of Cassian saving reader from soilders (not detailed), reader being blind and obvious, Cassian being even more obvious, sweet Nesta, reader being awkward, fluff

Summary: After noticing distance that Nesta and Cassian put between each other, you try to find out what happened and if you might have a chance with Cassian.

continuation to Happy ● masterlist

You have seen it all. Their touches, glances, secret smiles. Yet the thing you noticed the most was when it stopped.

There were no more smiles. Cassian didn't wait for Nesta every day in front of the library. They didn't sit next to each other. They didn't even look at each other. You needed to know what happened. Maybe he finally felt the bond snap, and it's your chance to be happy now.

That's why you're with Nesta in your favourite coffee shop, trying to unsuspecting get to the topic of her and Cassian.

"So what about you and some relationship? I know someone who would like to meet you. " You didn't know anyone, but she's probably going to say that her and Cassian are still together and just had an argument.

"Well, you know you could have asked directly about Cassian?" She sent you knowing smirk while taking slip of her tea. You couldn't help but let out an awkward laugh. "Cassian? What about him. I mean, yeah, he's nice and funny and quite literally the prettiest guy I ever met, but other than that, I don't see anything special about him." Your face turning reddish immediately after realising what you said.

Nesta barked out laugh and took your hand that was on the table. "Sweetie, me and Cassian aren't and weren't never official. We were just friends with benefits cause he thought you didn't want him. " In the moment you froze, not trying to hide emotion on your face. Mouth gapped and wide-eyed in suprise.

"H-he liked me?"

"Liked you? Sweetheart, he's absolutely in love with you. He talks about you all the time to everyone. " Before you could answer, the bell on top of the door ringed, and the man you were talking about walked in. His eyes sparkled when they landed on you. Was he looking at you all this time? Maybe you were blinded by your insecurities to see that.

Looking at it now, you remember all the times you caught him looking at you from the other side of the room. Or when he nearly killed Azriel cause he accidentally hit you stronger than he meant to. The times when he was there for you every time you needed him. When he saved you from hybern soilders. You smile brightly at him, your mood instantly lifting up. The only negative emotion staying was frustration. Frustration at yourself for not noticing it sooner. You both have been beating around the bush, thinking the other one didn't already love them with all their heart. You wanted to slap yourself but left that though aside in the favour of Cassian.

"Hello ladies, I hope you're not planning my downfall." He gave you both one of his many bright smiles. "Don't worry, we already planned that last time." She gathered her things, and with wink in your direction, she put on her coat. "Well, I will leave you two now. I have to make sure the downfall will be successful." The moment she left awkward silence filled the small cafe.

"Not that I would mind you taking me anywhere, but I would be glad if there is any chance of you feeling the same." Even after his words, he grabbed your hand tighter, intertwining your fingers together.

"I-um, how are you?" You asked him, trying to start some sort of conversion that could bring you two closer. "I love you." You widen your eyes, not expecting the three words you wanted to hear from him for decades. Leaving some money on the table, you stood up and grabbed his hand, leading him out of the cafe.

You stooped in the middle of the bridge with a great view at the Sidra. "So....?" He looked at you with puppy eyes that let you see every emotion he was feeling. There was admiration, hope, and love? In that moment, you knew that it was real. Your mind wasn't playing any filthy tricks on you, and he really did love you.

"I love you too." You said but quickly shook your head, putting the other hand that wasn't holding his hand on his cheek. "No, that's not enough to explain what I'm feeling." Taking deep breaths, you let out everything you wanted to tell him. "I loved you since the moment I saw you. When you saved me from the soldiers, I felt it for the first time, but I didn't pay any mind to it. But then Nesta came, and the bond had to snap in the worst time possible. I had wished for decades, hell even centuries to have you. To have your attention, your love." Cassian grabbed the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss. The gentle kiss filled with love quickly turned into a kiss full of passion and need. Parting from yourself, both of you breathed heavily, looking into each of your eyes. Suddenly, Cassian eyes widen, the love you see in them before becoming even more evident.

"You're my mate"

Taglist: @cleverzonkwombatsludge, @spookyboogyuniverse, @saltedcoffeescotch, @mybestfriendmademe, @idkmyoldonewasembarassing

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Part 4

Word Count: 6.1k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again. 

But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous. 

But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before? 

A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams. 

Warnings: fem!reader, breast play, humping, slight somnophilia, switch!reader, switch!beomgyu, mentions of past rape, yandere!beomgyu, reader gaslighting herself

He is lying on his side with his arms wrapped around you, staring at you, while you lay on your back, one hand on his arm draped over your chest and your eyes staring up at the ceiling. You’ve been lying like this since your alarm went off, waking you so you can start getting ready for work, though you think Beomgyu may have been awake even earlier. 

Your middle finger traces a small line over a vein on the back of his arm, feeling the warmth there as if you can feel his life’s blood. His grip on you is steady, confident, and he never takes his eyes off you. 

“Don’t you get tired of it?” You ask softly, voice heavy with sleep. You don’t elaborate on what you mean, and Beomgyu doesn’t ask for it. 

“No.” Comes his quick reply. ”Because just being here with you like this… It makes it all worth it.” 

You finally turn to look at him, and your heart swells up in your chest. You love him so much. Despite everything, you love him.  

“Call in sick for me.” You tell him and he jumps at the opportunity, not hesitating for a second. He grabs your phone and dials your work, making up some bullshit story about you being sick and needing to stay home. You’re usually a dedicated worker despite the grief Beomgyu brings you–because of the grief Beomgyu brings you. The harder he makes it for you, the more you want to hold onto your job because it gives you independence from him and prevents you from being completely codependent on each other the way you know he desires and the way you find yourself secretly wishing you were when things get very tough and all you can think about is being wrapped up by him, protected and cared for and safe from the horrible, cruel world that causes you so much pain and suffering. Because why go out there to fight every day when you can be with him and let him take care of everything? 

But then you force yourself to push these thoughts away and act like a grown-up because despite your immense love for Beomgyu, you're not stupid enough to hang your entire future on a man in this day and age. Yes, he loves you but you’re sure all the women who made that mistake before you were also in love. Or at least you like to think you're not that stupid…But for today you’ll let him win. For today you’ll see what the alternative is. 

Beomgyu ends the call with your boss with a toothy smile on his face. He looks excited, like you’ve given him the best present ever and he jumps back in to take you in his arms, kissing the side of your face. 

“What do you want to do today?” He asks and you shrug, throwing the question back to him. “What do you want to do?” 

“I just want to be with you.” He admits and your heart clenches. 

“Let’s eat first. I’m starving” You tell him and he’s so excited he doesn’t even whine at your lack of reply to his loving proclamation. 

________________________________

Beomgyu makes sure to make the food for you. He keeps apologizing for not having a lot of materials to work with and lamenting the fact that he can’t make this dish or that dish as if you were expecting some extravagant feast. 

“Beomgyu, it’s just breakfast.” You reassure him but he shakes his head. “I want to give you the best. Do you want to go eat out? There is this really good restaurant 20 minutes away.” 

When he tells you the name of the restaurant, you frown. “Isn’t that place really expensive?” 

He shrugs. “Only the best for my princess.” 

You shake your head. “I don’t need something fancy, Beomgyu. Pancakes are fine.”

He frowns at that, seemingly upset that you don’t want the expensive restaurant. What’s the deal with him? Sometimes you think he dislikes that you don’t want him to spend his money on you. 

Still, in order to make him stop fretting, you say, “Being with you is enough.”  

That makes him light up, and he is suddenly content with pancakes too. 

“It looks nice outside. Maybe we can pack up some lunch and go for a picnic?” You suggest and he perks up even more. “Yeah. We've got some cold cuts I can make into sandwiches and we can grab some cupcakes or muffins on the way.” 

He sounds very excited about getting to spend the day like this with you and it makes you both happy that you've made him so excited by such a small thing but also sad that he has probably been feeling a bit neglected by you recently as you pulled away from him due to everything that’s going on with the dreams and Taehyun.

Well, today you'll make it up to him. Today, you'll set all your worries aside and just enjoy the day with your loving boyfriend. 

“Sounds good.” 

___________________________________

Beomgyu made way too much food for the picnic and he insisted on preparing everything all by himself, wanting to pamper you. Maybe he himself also feels guilt over not stopping when you asked him to but in a way that makes you feel even worse. He didn’t know that you were serious and you’re no stranger to playfully whining for the other to stop when you’re messing around–even you have done it to him before–so you understand why he didn’t immediately stop. He must feel awful about it. You may be having issues with Beomgyu but that doesn’t mean that he would ever hurt you in that way. You’re his entire life and it's unfair to him to be having these disturbing thoughts, even if you can't control them. 

Maybe you just need to agree on a safe word so this doesn’t happen again… if you can even get yourself to get over your irrational trepidation every time you think about having sex with him now that is. 

“Beomgyu, I can feed myself.” You roll your eyes when he tries to put a sandwich to your mouth and push his hand away, feeling an uneasy sense of deja vu at the action. For some reason, the most random actions you or Beomgyu do feel like something you’ve done before. Every moment feels like you’ve lived it before and it’s freaking you out. You secretly worry that you’re losing your mind. 

He pouts, looking deflated at the small rejection. “I know. I just want to take care of you.” 

“I don't need you to take care of me.” You say again and he puts the food down, looking even more dejected at that. 

You sigh and open your arms. “Come here, Gyu.”

He eagerly gets into your embrace, laying his head down on your chest and letting you wrap your arms around him. 

You kiss the side of his head, breathing in his scent and feeling it soothe your anxiety like a healing balm. “I don't need all of this. I just need you. The you that I love, and not this crazy possessive guy that scares me.” 

“And I only ever want you.” He looks up at you, his eyes sad. “If I can be sure that you'll only ever be mine, I wouldn't act so crazy.” 

You want to argue with him, get angry that he's asking you to prove your loyalty to him as if you had cheated on him, but you also know that what you feel for Taehyun isn't completely innocent and it would be hypocritical of you to act like his worries are completely irrational. 

You sigh, looking at the park around you. You were at one of your favorite parts by the lake. Though it is a little hard to enjoy with so many people around, kids screaming and guys jokingly cussing each other out. You wish it would just be you and Beomgyu here. 

“You know these grounds once belonged to the royal family.” You tell Beomgyu, “Imagine having all this beauty to yourself. Wouldn't that have been wonderful?”

“I suppose so.” He mumbles unenthusiastically but you keep going. “Their lives must've been so easy. Eating good food, dressing in fancy clothes, sipping tea in their huge ass gardens…”

“I'm sure they had their struggles.” Beomgyu interjects and you snort. “Yeah right. Their struggles of where to spend all that money.”

“They didn't control their own decisions. They were trapped in what everyone else expected of them. They didn't choose what to wear, who to hangout with, what they want to do with their lives or even who to marry.”

Beomgyu's sudden speech gives you pause. “Damn I didn't know you were so passionate about royal life.”

Is he saying that because he wants to discourage you from talking about the prince dreams again? Well, you weren’t planning to mention them to him anymore, not after how twisted and ugly they’re become. 

He falters, seeming to realize how odd it was for him to get worked up over your silly complaints. “It's just… things aren't always what they seem.” 

“I suppose. I mean I hear that their lives were filled with deceit and betrayal, like killing each other for power and shit. I'd rather be poor and alive, thanks.” You finally say to lighten up the mood and he smiles, thankfully playing along. “I want you alive too.”

“How romantic.” You roll your eyes and he laughs. “I admit it's not one of my best lines.” 

“Well, good thing I got you some love poems to learn from.” You declare, pulling out the book you brought along to the picnic. 

“You just want to hear my sexy ass voice narrating your favorite poems.” He calls you out and you don’t even try to deny it. “Guilty. What, I can't take advantage of my sexy boyfriend?” 

“You can take advantage of me all you want, baby.” He says greasily and you pretend to gag. “Stick to the poems, loverboy. Don't waste your voice on these corny lines.” 

“Yes, princess.” He grins, grabbing the book from your hand and flopping his head on your lap so you can play with his hair while he reads your favorite poems.

Sitting there, with the love of your life in your arms, his deep voice reading out words of love and longing from the most gifted poets and writers of the world, you feel lucky. How could you not when those words that have moved millions over decades and centuries, driving them to long for a love just like that, feel like your reality. 

The love you have with Beomgyu is what those poems are written about. Yes, it can be dark and scary, but it can also be so, so beautiful. Just like now, with him sneaking glances at you in between every proclamation of love and adoration he reads off, as if his eyes can’t help but jump to you at every reminder, seeking the sight of the exact love they’re reading about.   

Yes, doing this was the right choice. You feel so happy and content right now, the sunshine beaming down at the both of you and warming up your skin can’t even compete with the internal warmth and love you feel holding Beomgyu at this moment. This is perfect. This is where you belong. And this is just what he’s trying to make sure lasts right? He acts crazy sometimes because he knows this love is too rare and special to lose, right? 

But the feeling of peace and happiness doesn’t last forever, and an unexpected gloom arrives in the form of one of your favorite poems–Annabelle Lee. Sure, it’s a sad and deeply moving poem but you didn’t anticipate the way it was going to affect Beomgyu. 

It all starts off normally, his rich voice setting the perfect tone for the beautiful poem as you play with his soft locks, running them through the fingers of one hand while the other gently massages his scalp. 

It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me.

You smile to yourself as you look down at Beomgyu. It’s funny how that’s just what you were thinking–that all that matters is the love you share between the two of you. You bend down to press a kiss to his forehead, and giggle at the way he unconsciously lifts his head up to get closer to your lips. 

I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea:

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

I and my Annabel Lee;

With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven

Laughed loud at her and me.

Then he hesitates, pausing as he reaches the last line, and you have to nudge him gently to get him to keep going. You see his eyebrows knit together in a perturbed frown but he continues for you. 

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,

Went laughing at her and me—

Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

You try to smoothen the lines that formed between Beomgyu’s thick eyebrows but even another kiss to the troubled lines are of no use as his focus was now entirely on the book in front of him. His anxiety was palpable and infectious, and a strange sense of doom creeps up on your protective bubble. 

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we—

Of many far wiser than we—

And neither the laughter in heaven above,

Nor the demons down under the sea,

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:

Beomgyu's voice turned hoarse and patchy as he carried on, and you feel a prickling at the back of your throat as a profound and all consuming grief that you've never felt before and don’t think you have the capacity to contain threatens to engulf you. You hold onto him tighter, suddenly terrified. It’s silly. You’ve read this poem more times than you can remember, and sure it always moved you and made you sad, but it never caused you such gut-wrenching pain as it was doing right now. Whatever misery the poem was triggering in Beomgyu was transferring directly to you through your skin and suddenly the poet was Beomgyu and you were Anabelle Lee–he’d lost you and you can only sit there and watch him suffer and waste away as he cries over you. 

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,

In her sepulchre there by the sea,

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Beomgyu's voice breaks completely as he utters ‘my life and my bride’ and by the time he finishes the poem, he is openly crying. You’re crying too, and hugging him tightly to you. You’re sure you’re both making quite the spectacle of yourselves but you don’t care. You hold him so tightly your fingers turn white and numb, and he does the same. The sense of loss that is filling you up is so intense and vivid, it's as if you've lived it. You’re scared that if you let him go, you’ll be taken away from him just like in the poem. 

“Why–” He sobs into your chest, his cries rattling your already injured heart. “Why did they have to be ripped apart?” 

“I don't know, baby.” You bend down to kiss his sweet lips, not really knowing what to say but wishing to calm him down–calm yourself down and try to shake off the irrational fear that something like this is going to happen to you. “Sometimes life is just cruel.” 

“No. I can't accept that.” He says resolutely, sitting up to face you and reaching out to hold your face in his hands. “Promise you'll never let anyone or anything take you away from me.”

“Beomgyu–” 

“Please…” His voice shudders as he tries to speak through his tears. “I can't lose you.” 

“Oh, baby.” You sigh, reaching out to wipe the sparkling tears off his face. Oh, how you'll say and do anything for this beautiful boy. 

“I promise.”

_______________________________

When you get back to work the following day, Taehyun corners you in the back room as soon as he gets the chance. 

“Hey, are you okay?” He asks with concern in his voice and you look at him in confusion. “Yeah, why?” 

“You called in sick yesterday.” His eyes narrow, already suspicious. 

“Oh, right.” You remember Beomgyu calling in sick for you, and you try to brush off his concern. “Yeah, I’m fine.” 

But Taehyun doesn’t let your small slip up pass, now probably convinced there was some malicious reason behind your absence. “Are you sure? Beomgyu didn’t do anything weird, did he?” 

His question pisses you off, perhaps because you already feel so guilty towards Beomgyu for your unjustifiable aversion to being physical to him because of your dreams, but you certainly don’t want Taehyun to think Beomgyu is abusing you or something. “No, he didn’t. He took care of me all day yesterday.” You say sharply and Taehyun winces, realizing he has gotten off on the wrong foot with you and that you’re no longer tolerant of him denigrating your boyfriend’s image to you. 

“I’m sorry.” He quickly backs down, which is unusual for him, and you feel a twinge of sorrow for going off on him like that. He was just worried about you, but still, he was inadvertently part of the reason you and Beomgyu are having issues and you can’t help but feel frustrated and resentful about that.

“Whatever.” You try to brush him off and get back to the main work area but he is not done talking. 

“I shouldn’t have said what I said.” He goes on, stopping you in your tracks and you sigh. You know exactly what he’s talking about. “No, you shouldn’t have.”  

"Can we start over?" 

You stare at him, seeing the hope in his eyes and it brings you nothing but pain. “I’m not sure we can.” 

Maybe in another world you and Taehyun may have been something–in a world where you met him before you met Beomgyu, maybe. But you would be acting wilfully ignorant if you went back to your budding friendship with Taehyun. Because you know it upsets Beomgyu. Because you know it wouldn’t be just an innocent friendship and that there is more at play here. You need to nip it all in the bud before it grows out of control and suffocates your actual, real relationship with Beomgyu. 

You’re loyal to your boyfriend. Whatever strange and inexplicable feelings you hold for Taehyun should be abandoned and forgotten, and they can’t be if you keep being such buddies-buddies with him. 

His face falls at your response and you think you can detect an edge of anger to his voice. Why the hell is he angry? He has no right to be upset with you for setting boundaries in order to protect your relationship. “I was out of line. I get it. I swear it won’t happen again.” 

“It can't.” You affirm, getting angry yourself. “I'm dating Beomgyu. I love Beomgyu.”

Though Taehyun is usually good at managing his facial expressions, you can clearly see the way his face twists in pain at your proclamation. This is exactly why you have to stay away from each other. 

“I know that.” He says through gritted teeth. “Believe me I don’t want to be having these feelings as much as you do, but I can’t control it. There is something drawing us together and I know you can feel it too.” 

“Oh, come on, Taehyun, now you sound delusional like me.” You scoff, berating yourself as much as him. You’ve let this delusion get too far. “Next thing you’ll be saying you’re having dreams of us in a past life too.” 

“Don’t mock me.” He scowls, the hurt still plainly clear on his face no matter how hard he’s trying to hide it with his unjustifiable temper. 

You sigh again. This is not a fight you want to get into. It’s over. You have to end this. “I am not mocking you. But I can’t let whatever this is ruin what I have with the man I love.” 

At that, Taehyun turns and walks away wordlessly, and a deep wound opens up in your chest as you watch him leave. You do your best to ignore it. Just as suddenly and inexplicably these feelings developed for Taehyun, you’re sure they will pass away and everything will return back to normal. This is all just a result of the doubts that have been plaguing you about Beomgyu. It’s just your mind coming up with weird feelings and scenarios that mean nothing. Soon enough, you and Beomgyu will be living in mutual bliss like before and you’ll forget about this whole nightmare. 

_______________________________

Beomgyu is holding back. You can see it. He tries to keep his desires in check so he doesn't hurt you again without meaning to. He doesn’t want to rush you but you can tell he is suffering. 

You can feel the way he reluctantly pulls away when his kisses get heated. You can see the way he averts his eyes when you wear something too revealing around the house. You can hear him when he sneaks to the bathroom in the middle of the night to relieve himself. 

And you can definitely feel it now in the way his unconscious body ruts against yours in his sleep. 

“Beomgyu…” You call out, mouth dry as you feel his cock grinding against your ass. 

“Princess…” He moans at the sound of you calling his name, his hips driving into your ass harder, still asleep. “Need you…”

And you'd be lying if you said you weren't affected too. You need him too. Your body naturally reacts to his, panties already getting wet as his bulge grinds between your legs. But you still haven’t been able to shake those disturbing images and feelings out of your head completely, especially not when he calls you princess. The word now carries an unexpected negative association for you.  

“Princess, please…” He cries in your ear, his fingers digging into your stomach. “Oh god, please.”

It makes you feel so fucking guilty to hear how desperate and needy he sounds, unconscious and unable to hold himself back like has been doing so many times recently. You want so bad to help. You want to push him on his back and ride his cock until he’s satiated and happy like he always gets when you fuck him, but you’re not sure you can. 

“Wake up.” You urge him, torn between the heat gathering in your belly and the suffocating feeling of being trapped in his hold. You want to help him–you want to help yourself–but you’re fucking scared that it would trigger those horrific images once again. 

But Beomgyu only whines and drives his hips into your harder. “My princess…”

“Beomgyu, wake up.” You call out once again, much more firmly this time, and he finally jolts awake, sitting up so he’s now hovering over you and checking you over. 

“Wha–what?” His first instinct is to make sure you’re safe and unharmed, looking over your body and touching you slightly all over to confirm you’re not injured. Then the confusion comes in–why do you have that look on your face?--but that only lasts a few seconds before the realization finally kicks in and his face crumbles in dismay. “Fuck, sorry. I’m so sorry. I've just been–”

“Needy? Yeah, I can feel that.” You push your thigh between his legs, trying to push away your unwanted feelings. He was so panicked about you being hurt that it all just makes you feel that much more guilty. Beomgyu would never hurt you. It was all in your head, and you want to get rid of it. You want to allow yourself to feel the love of your boyfriend again. 

“Oh, princess, I missed you so much.” He falls right into it, humping your leg just like you expected. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so weak.” 

“Aw, puppy…” You coo, brushing his hair out of his face so you can take a good look at the pathetic look on his face that you love so much. It sends a fucking jolt of electricity down to your already heated core. 

“It has barely been a couple of weeks.” You reprimand as if your panties weren’t rapidly getting wet right now. But Shame isn’t in Beomgyu’s vocabulary anyway. “A couple of weeks of having you right next to me and not being able to touch you. It was torture.” 

He pushes your nightshirt up and buries his face in your tits. You almost laugh, of course this would be the first thing the pervert does. Except what comes out of your mouth are not laughs but moans as his mouth quickly finds one of your nipples to wrap around. 

“Fuck, I missed these tits.” He mumbles, voice muffled as he continues to kiss and suck all over your breasts, making your back arch up into his touch and small whines escape your lips. 

“Good boy, gyu.” You whine, fingers pulling ruthlessly at his hair that you’re usually so careful and gentle with as he pulls your other nipple in his mouth and sucks harshly. Your hips thrust up against his body as you seek some relief from the liquid heat dripping out of you. 

He quickly notices and one of his hands sneaks between your legs to cup your soaked panties. He pulls off your nipples with an obscene pop, smirking cockily. “Looks like I'm not the only needy one here.”

You can't do anything but bite your lip as his palm kneads your sensitive pussy, your teeth tearing into the soft skin as you try to hold in your own needy moans. But Beomgyu doesn’t like that. He uses his other hand to pull your lip away from your teeth and push his thumb in so he has your mouth open and nothing in the way of the salacious noises he craves. 

“Beomgyu…” You slur, struggling to talk with his thumb pushing down on your tongue but it's clear from the way you push your pussy further against his hand what you want. 

“Are you gonna cum, princess?” He asks, his eyes raking up and down from your flushed face to your exposed tits as you arch your body up, seeking your high against his hand. 

“Uh-huh.” Drool dribbles down the corner of your mouth that is still held open by Beomgyu before he finally removes his thumb from your mouth and uses it to flick and pull at your perked nipple.

That extra bit of stimulation makes you cry and jolt as your orgasm comes crashing down like a wave onto your poor deprived body. If your panties were wet before, you're sure that now they've drenched and staining the sheets under you. 

But Beomgyu doesn’t care. He focuses on your face as the embarrassingly wet sounds of him continuing to palm your pussy through it all fill the room. 

He doesn't stop until after your body is no longer convulsing and just settling into a sluggish tremble as your slack open mouth lets out small, hoarse moans. 

Finally he stops, bending down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into open mouth and his hand wrapping around your jaw to get you to wrap your lips around it. You sluggishly respond, your mind still blank from the intense pleasure you just experienced. You didn’t even realize how much you'd missed his touch until now. 

But it's not over yet. You may have gotten what you needed but he is still as needy as he was before–even more so after the little show you put on for him, and you can feel exactly how much when pulls your soaked panties to the side to press his bare cock against your pussy. 

But as soon as you feel the head of his cock at your entrance, your body seizes up in terror and your mind goes into overdrive with image after image of that horrible nightmare. 

“No!” You shriek, trying to close your legs and push him away but you can't because he's lying between your legs and you only succeed in pulling him closer to you which freaks you out even more and you start sobbing. “No. Please, no.”

“What? What happened? What did I do?” He freaks out too. It must be such a whiplash for him. Everything was going so well and he probably doesn't understand what caused your sudden breakdown, but it's not like you can explain it to him when you don't even understand it yourself. 

All you know is that you don’t want him to stop so you just cry and shake your head. “Don't. Please, don't.” 

The blood drains from his face as he helplessly watches you descend further and further into this unprovoked mental break. “Baby, what's wrong? Just tell me what happened.”

He tries to reach out to calm you down but you finally manage to push him off you and scramble off the bed. “Stay away.” 

You pull your night shirt down to cover yourself. You feel disgusted, tainted, used. Why is this happening to you? What the fuck is wrong with you?

“Princess, please. Talk to me.” He pleads, and you can see his fists clutching tightly onto the bedsheets in order to hold himself back from leaping off the bed and taking you in his arms like you know he is dying to. That's his natural response. It's what his body and heart compel him to do. When you're hurt and in pain, that's what he does–he holds you, kisses you, comforts you, reassures you until you forget everything that has hurt you because nothing in heaven or on earth can get through him. He would never let anything hurt you. But how can he do that when he's the one who is hurting you? How can he protect you from himself? 

“You're killing me, baby.” He weeps, distraught and not knowing what to do with himself when he doesn’t even know how he's hurt you. “Please, please, tell me what I did so I can fix it.”

How can you say it? It's too cruel. If he's upset and miserable now, you don't want to think about what he'd be like if you revealed to him that the reason you have been withdrawing from him and reacting so negatively to his touch was because of the terrible disgusting images your fucked up brain decided to randomly conjure up and that he had no control over. It wasn't his fault and you were basically treating him like a rapist. 

But Beomgyu will not let it go. How can he when he can't even touch you without you reacting like he had burned you? He has to know. He deserves to know it's not his fault. 

“It's… the dreams.” You start, finding it difficult to talk through your parched throat. Your eyes flutter all over his face, searching for the smallest reaction to your words. You know he won't take it well–and you can't blame him. This is why he was so wary of the dreams. He didn't want them to infect your real life and now they have completely infested your brain. 

“I had an awful dream that you… that you..” You break down crying again. You don't want to say it. You don't want to break him twice. The worst thing is that they weren’t even just dreams anymore. It was like you were recalling actual memories. They come to you while you’re fully awake now. There is no escape and you don’t know what to do. 

“That I what?” He asks, voice so shallow with fear that it's barely a whisper. 

“That you… forced yourself on me.” You finally say it and the color drains completely from Beomgyu's face. “I tried so hard to push those images away. I know you would never do that to me but every time we touch–”

“I got it.” He cuts you off, not wanting to hear anymore. Beomgyu never shuts you up. He always wants to hear you talk–to hear every thought that crosses your mind. He soaks them all up whether good or bad. This is the first time he's ever had enough and that scares you more than anything. Is this how you ruin your relationship? Is this the final straw?

“Oh god, Beomgyu, I'm sorry.” You can hardly see through your tears so you walk closer to him, your need to be comforted by him, to know he still loves you, finally overpowering the heinous images in your brain. 

But your heart rips in half when Beomgyu flinches away from your touch. “Don't.” 

“I'm sorry.” You repeat, holding your arms out slightly from your body, waiting for Beomgyu to slot his own between them where they belong, selfishly needing him to make you feel better about everything when you’re the one who hurt him. “I'll do better. I will force myself to get through this. Just please…”

“Okay.” Beomgyu replies emotionlessly and gets off the bed and away from you. 

“Where are you going?” You ask him, terrified. “Are you leaving? I'm sorry, I swear. Forget about everything I said. I'll do whatever you want, just please–”

You walk towards him, reaching out to grab the top of his pants, intent on doing anything to make him stay but he pushes you off, disgust etched on his face. “No. Don't touch me.”

You knew those words hurt him when you said them to him before but you couldn't have imagined just how much, but as you stand now with those same words directed at you, it takes every fiber of you being not to hunch over from the agony they inflict on you. You never thought those wretched words would ever come out of Beomgyu's mouth–no, not your Beomgyu. And it's all your fault. 

“Please, don't leave me.” You cry, and Beomgyu looks at you in shock. “Leave? I told you I would never leave you.”

That brings you some comfort, but it's not complete as he continues to stand far away from you, and you make sure to tell him as much. 

“Then come hold me.” You ask petulantly. Is it hypocritical of you to demand physical closeness from him when you had before pushed him away when he was in your shoes? Yes, but you don't care. You just want him to stay and put your heart back together before you bleed out. 

“I need space. I need to think.” He says and you shake your head resolutely. “There is nothing to think about. I want you to stay.”

He gives you a smile so ingenuine it looked more like a grimace. “I'll see you in the morning.” 

“Don't walk out on me, Beomgyu.” You tell him, a threatening edge to your voice. Threatening what? You don't know. What are you going to do, sulk until he comes back? 

And he knows it too because he just shakes his head and tells you to get some sleep before he walks out. You scream after him, probably waking up all the neighbors but you don't care.

“Beomgyu! Come back! You're just gonna leave me here like this, you fucking asshole?” You scream and scream until your throat raw but he doesn’t come back, and with the last bit of your energy spent on your screams, you crumble to the ground and curl up into a ball–your knees pressed up to your chest and your arms wrapped tightly around them–trying to staunch off your hemorrhaging heart as your world falls away around you. 

_________________________________________

A/N: this will always remain my comfort fic despite how dark it can be. i will never get over this. anyway let me know your thoughts and depending on the result of this poll, the next chapter may be the last one or there will be one more chapter.

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| You're A Weapon; And Weapons Don't Weep ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: After Bucky discovers that your once thought to be dead older brother is HYDRA's new super soldier, you're chosen to go on a mission with the team.

Warnings: **PLEASE READ** This fic contains death. If the idea of unaliving someone can possibly trigger you, please do NOT read this. Anxiety attack, cursing, angst, random sprinkles of fluff, use of y/n.

Word Count: 4.7

A/Ns: It has been way too long, but I finally got to write for my BBWWS again. I have a feeling there won't be too many chapters left for Bucky and his Sunshine. But I have been working on other ideas and another series is in the process. I hope you enjoy reading. I love you all! The messages, comments, reblogs, likes, etc. literally give me life and inspired me to come back and get into writing all over again. Enjoy your weekend, besties!!

Previous Part // Masterlist

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Any shred of hope that life would be returning back to normalcy remotely anytime soon got washed away by the tidal wave that was the news of your brother being the new super soldier for Hydra.

Tony and Steve called for intel meetings that basically became a fulltime job. At first it felt like an interrogation. They questioned you, curious as to why you would apply for an internship at The Compound. While the circumstances did seem suspicious, they eventually were able to rule out any foul play on your part.

The gatherings soon turned into wanting to know every intricate detail that they wouldn't be able to look up or hack out of any system. From dawn to dusk, the two men asked about your childhood together- trying to connect the pieces as to who Luke is, or was. Bucky stayed silently by your side the entire time and offered a stabilizing hand when things got overwhelming to discuss. But it also didn't slip by you that he focused on each and every detail, noting the intel for this mission.

After being able to specify things so minute; such as your brothers favorite books, favorite teacher from grade school, or the fact that he likes the color green- but not just any green, Sacramento green, because it reminded him of the vines that grew around the windows of your grandparents cottage that you would spend the majority of your summer's at as kids, you also got chosen to go on this mission. There was some minor pushback from the team, but ultimately Bucky took responsibility for you. You knew that he would keep you safe, even if it meant putting the part of his very soul that he felt remained on the line for you.

To say that the training was brutal would be an understatement. While the others had an entire lifetime to perfect their craft and years working alongside one another in unity, you had only a matter of weeks. You were thrown into a constant rotation of being educated on the newest technologies developed by Tony, boxing and going over endless tactical strategies with Steve, knowledge of weaponry with a hint of ballet to stay light on your feet with Nat... pure exhaustion wouldn't begin to describe it.

The day came when intel showed the Swiss Alps would be first on the mission log. Everyone was treating it like just any other, but the dreaded encounter was weighing down heavily deep within your stomach. The thought of using yourself as bait to lure out your brother spiraled into the millions of anxious outcomes that kept you up at night. Finally giving you just the smallest glimpse into Bucky's world. The doorway was creaked open to his nightmares.

"Wooow. You look like a Bad. Ass." Sam annunciates amusingly, as his eyes land on you walking up the small rear cargo ramp of the jet.

Your cheeks instantly blush, having already been self-conscious about the skintight, black Kevlar suit Nat gave you to wear. As more footsteps approach, you sink more into your seat and try to avoid any more eye contact.

"Just so you know, I heard that." Bucky's voice rebounds off of the metal walls before he even makes his way completely into the jet. "Don't try and make passes at my girl when I'm not aro-"

You don't need to look up to know that those steel blue eyes have frozen you into place, but you dare a glance. He's dressed in all black; Black boots, black tactical pants, a black leather jacket with the left sleeve torn off- showing his gunmetal and gold Vibranium arm, and a black glove on his right hand. The sight of him is intimidating, ready for combat and anything to be thrown his way. But those eyes. They hold a tenderness meant only for you. His magnetizing stare mixed with the wonderment expression on his face confirms his friends words and more. Okay, so maybe the suit isn't so bad.

"You're gawking." Sam is now at Bucky's side, smirking with his arms tightly crossed over his chest.

Bucky's face slides back into its usual consternation state before giving him a side glare. "Shut up." Sam shakes his head, laughing to himself lightly before making his way to the front of the jet.

You move to sit upright as he approaches, and Bucky's face finally softens. It always does when it's just the two of you. He reaches above where you're sitting to an overhead rack, casually leaning. Hovering like one of those seductive book boyfriends you'd swoon over, but for him it just comes naturally. Swallowing hard, you angle your head up to look at him. You find a slightly playful grin tugging at his lips and you crack a faint smile.

"You doing okay, Sunshine?" His voice is soft but concerned. A gloved thumb caresses down your cheek. The doting gesture entrances you to gently nuzzle into his palm.

"I don't know." You answer honestly.

He reflects on this a moment, his eyes searching yours. But he looks slightly blurry. The background noise is starting to become overwhelming. Numerous voices all start to overlap, the jet engines growing louder as they're warming up, the loud bang with each shipment container with weapons being loaded on board- weapons intended for my brother. It all combines into one long dragged-out, high-pitched ringing sound and your throat closing in on itself. Bucky senses this, notices and quickly acts. Wide eyed, he drops to his knees.

"Hey... Hey, y/n. It's okay." He quickly unfastens the harness from your seat. "Deep breaths." You can't help but notice how calm he sounds. "Hey...look at me." Bucky gently cups each side of your face, the intense coolness on the one side being a welcomed shock. Your eyes meet his, and when they do, all you see is his devotion. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here with you."

"I know you are." You mutter, pressing your forehead to his as you try to manage your breathing to match his.

"We'll find him." He breathes. "I made it out, he can too. I won't let anything happen to you while we’re out there, y/n." The urgency that his tone is trying to convey is heart wrenching.

"I know, Bucky."

"Here-" He pulls away for a moment to take a bag off his back. Unzipping it, he pulls out a water bottle. "Drink some water."

You smile internally at the gesture. As he's unscrewing the cap, you notice a novel in the bag. It's one he borrowed from you when you first met. There's a familiar stinging behind your eyes. What did I do to deserve this man? One who is willing to walk back into his version of hell to pull out someone that I love?

Sipping on the water of course helped, but Bucky tucking you securely into his side for takeoff is what kept the overwhelming anxiety at bay.

“I love you, so much.” You say against his chest, in appreciation. He snorts slightly, pressing a delicate kiss into your hair.

“And I love you, Sunshine.” Bucky adjusts his hips slightly. “Get some rest, we have a long flight.” Intricate fingers brush through your hair, eventually lulling you to sleep in the safe space that is your boyfriend’s lap.

Distant muttering started reeling you back from a dreamless sleep. Instinctively, you reach for Bucky whom you thought you were still sleeping on- only to find he had replaced it with his bag. The disappointment was starting to settle in when you hear his voice:

“I know how this can come across, but she’s strong enough. She’ll be able to handle it, Tony. I’m here, I can-“

“All I’m hearing is I, I, I, me, me, me, Barnes. You, my friend, were an exception. I don’t know if we can go in there and get this guy out alive, and even if we can, who knows what the aftermath is going to look like! For either of them! We’re taking a regular, a nobody off the street and putting a lot of pressure on her to do this. She’s already starting to feel it, that much is obvious. I’ve said from the beginning that this is a huge mistake. I understand your feelings here, from both sides. You want to make sure HYDRA doesn’t continue to pop up like daises and be there for the love of your life. I GET it. But this is a mistake.”

It’s apparent that Stark has walked away with the clinking of his heavy metal footsteps.

“You picked a good one, Buck. I have faith in her too.” There’s a small reassuring pat to coincide with Steve’s voice. “Y/n’s one of us now.”

“Thanks, Steve. I just… I have to save him. For her.” You can hear the exasperation in Bucky’s voice.

While tears sting from multiple emotions behind closed eyes still pretending to sleep, you feel overcome with something you haven’t experienced in this situation yet; determination. A sudden tenacity to prove the doubters that you can do this, that you can help your brother just how Bucky had, and that you wouldn’t bail and have a breakdown… again. No. From this point on, you refuse to let anyone see you as weak.

The bag underneath your head gently shifts and is quickly replaced with warm body heat that you quickly snuggle into. That warmth spreads as Bucky wraps his right arm around your body, pulling you in a little closer. His heart rate starts to slow, and his breathing becomes more regular. You just soak in the last moments before the unknown.

“He’s really going to just jump out the back of the jet like that?!” You try to yell, over the loud wind rumbling and your hair whipping around.

With Sam’s back facing towards you, he takes one absentminded step off of the opened ramp and is just gone. Your stomach drops along with him at the sight.

Bucky rolls his eyes as he hands you an earpiece, “Yep,” A second later, Sam comes back into view, now soaring with his Falcon wings. He gives Bucky a little sarcastic two finger salute and flies out of view. “He’s flashy like that.”

Putting the impossibly small earpiece into your ear, you can’t help but shake your head and laugh. It must be an almost forgotten sound with the weight of everything going on because now Bucky is smiling too.

“Well, I hope you’re not expecting me to jump out of a plane,” you say only half joking. Because if that’s the case, he’s going to have to literally throw you out.

“What did you think the parachutes were for?” Bucky asks deadpan, with a raised eyebrow and pointing to the packs behind him.

All of the color starts to drain from your face, when suddenly you saw the slightest twitch in Bucky’s lip.

“Oh my god. You asshole!” Bucky grabs his stomach and starts to hunch over laughing as you hit him in the arm. His metal arm. “OW!” You start shaking your hand out to wave away the initial sting.

Glancing at him, Bucky is doubled over, nose scrunched, laughing so hard that barely any noise is coming out and tears are welling up in his eyes. It’s contagious, especially as the throb in your hand turns into a dull ache.

I’ve missed this. Things being simple with us and not so draining. Moments that resemble a drop of normalcy in a typical ‘would be’ relationship. But I still wouldn’t trade it. Because he’s perfect. And he’s mine.

Once your lungs don’t feel like they’re on fire any longer, you let you a deep sigh, resting your hands on your hips. “God, I needed that.”

“Did you really think I would toss you out of a Quinjet?”

“Seemed like it in the moment-”

“Alright, love birds,” Tony interrupts, the heavy metal footsteps of his Iron Man armor catching both of your attention, "don't be late to the party," he says knowingly, palms glowing before he too disappears out of the jet.

“Don’t worry, Sunshine,” Bucky says, now standing next to you, “I have my own flashy transport,” he side eyes you with a playful grin.

Arms wrapped tightly around Bucky’s stomach; you can’t help but snuggle your cheek into his leather covered shoulder.

Of course, Bucky’s idea of flashy would be a motorcycle.

Your eyes flutter open to see Steve on his own come into view through whips of your hair. The boys. Two best friends riding like they don’t have the weight of the world constantly on their shoulders.

Steve’s bike has a bulky, all chrome classic look while Bucky’s is a modern, all black crotch rocket. Both have been modified to drive relatively quietly, and it’s such a weird dichotomy to still be able to feel the rumbling of the bike between your legs without all the noise.

One of your hands releases the clasp they had on one another, pressing your palm against Bucky’s chest- smoothing itself along his abdomen. Bucky sits more upright in his seat to press back into you more, using only his left hand to steer as his right encloses around yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze. The gesture is so minor, and yet you can just feel how he puts his heart into everything when it comes to you.

"We're going to pull off to the side up on the left. We'll have to go the rest of the way on foot," Steve's voice is solemn in your earpiece.

Bucky gives him a nod in acknowledgement, leaning back down to better control the motorcycle. This time, his hand doesn't leave yours.

The trek through the Switzerland forest was less than a mile, but with each step your feet grew heavier and that sour stomach of yours returned with the dread of seeing your brother again. If he could even be considered your brother anymore. Who knows what actually remained. As much as you have begged and pleaded with the universe to make yet another exception for Lucas just as it had for Bucky, you were terrified of the man that you would soon encounter.

Just shy of coming out of the tree line to the supposed to be abandoned old military base, you hear a series of echoing pops- stopping all three of you dead in your tracks.

Gunshots.

Bucky and Steve exchange a quick, wide-eyed glance at one another, “Go, we’ll catch up.” Bucky says, and within the blink of an eye, Steve takes off running at super soldier speed.

You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until Bucky turned to face you, his shoulders squared, lips in a tight thin line. But looking between your eyes, he loosens a breath, gripping your shoulders, “Listen to me, Sunshine,” he makes every attempt to soften his voice, but a few more pops and yelling sound off in the distance making you wince. His hands grip you tighter, “I need you to focus. What I’m about to say goes against everything I normally believe, but in this circumstance it’s critical…” he sighs, looking down before back into your eyes- trying to convey the seriousness of what he’s saying, “you have to push the fear down. And I know how that sounds, but you can’t walk in there with that look on your face. Because honey, these people will not hesitate to kill you.”

You gasp lightly at the graveness of his words. It’s not like you didn’t know this walking into the mission, but it’s different once you’re actually here.

Bucky sighs again, his expression softening as his hands cup each side of your face especially gentle, “I know, baby. I know. I won’t leave your side,” he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes, “I just… I can’t lose you.” His voice cracks slightly, even at just the thought.

Even with your eyes teetering with the threat of tears, you nod in understanding. Placing each of your hands over his, you press your lips to Bucky’s- holding them there, accepting that the moment they pull apart it’s no longer about the two of you, but about the mission. Luke is your mission.

“I love you,” you murmur, before opening your eyes to see deep consternation in his.

Disassociation is a powerful coping mechanism for human beings. It can feel like an outer body experience or even a dream. More like a nightmare. But as you follow into the bunker where the screaming leads, closely behind Bucky with your gun drawn watching for any sudden movements and stepping over the trail of bloodied bodies in the hallway, you're thankful for the part of your brain trying to convince you that this isn't real.

"Still no sign of Castle," Sam's voice was pragmatic in your earpiece.

Bucky looked back over his shoulder at you while still walking, "Maybe he's not here after-" and that's when you see the slightest shift of a shadow in an inverted doorway.

It was so small that in any other instance you would just assume your eyes were just playing a trick on you. But not here. Your body reacted before your mind could even fully register- taking a sudden step to the side, you fired off two prompt shots. A heavy thud followed.

Practically giving himself whiplash, Bucky looks at where you shot and back to you. His eyes widen, mouth open slightly at the realization of what just happened. What you just did- for him. Your eyes haven't moved from that doorway, and your grip is tighter on the gun than it probably should be. Pain surges through your jaw with how tightly your teeth are clenched and yet, you wait to see if anyone else is there. Is there another shadow lurking just waiting for the opportunity to harm one of you?

"Y/n..." Bucky's voice is delicate as his eyes dart around, also looking for shadows, "we have to keep moving," he says in a coaxing manner.

I can’t. The words blare in your mind like a doomsday siren and yet you can’t speak. All you can do is focus on that that dark corner where the pool of crimson continues to grow.

Bucky steps in line of your gun with somber eyes meeting yours, causing you to simultaneously point it towards the ground and break your trance. You didn’t realize just how high and how tight your shoulders had been as you loosened your breath. A new version of you being transformed as you exhale.

“I-” You try catching your breath, completely slack jaw and shaking your head just trying to comprehend what you did. “I…I just-” and the tears are flowing. No crying, no uncontrollable sobbing, but a small steady line of tears as the overwhelming awareness of taking control and trading a life for someone that you love comes to light… just flows.

“You did what you had to,” he answers for you, nodding sympathetically. You don’t deserve kindness right now, do you? But that is why he is good. And that is why he deserves to live.

“We have to go, y/n.” Bucky says, looking over your shoulders and behind himself again. “It looks like no one else has been down here yet.” He grabs your hand, not waiting for a response before he’s treading down the hallway again.

Your feet shuffle instinctively at first to follow him, but the brightness of the flickering fluorescent lights quickly grounded you to where you actually are. There are lives at stake and you need to keep your head.

The distant noise of constant struggle seemed to almost completely stop. Every few minutes you would hear a familiar voice say 'clear' in your ear and relief would wash over you, just thankful for knowing that they were alive.

It got cold the further you went, meaning you probably had gradually descended underground. Finally, at the end of what seemed like a never-ending tunnel, was a large set of metal double doors with multiple large chains and padlocks.

You and Bucky exchanged a quick glance with one another before he fists the chain with his Vibranium hand, pulling effortlessly as they break into pieces. He pushes open the doors to reveal a large, primarily empty room aside from a bunch of dusty, bulky outdated computers. Most of the overhead lights don’t work, so it seems darker in here than it did in the corridor.

Bucky steps into the room and starts looking around, his boots crunching noisily on worn rubble and glass. You hold your breath, watching as his fingers skim along the keyboards, his eyes squinting at the monitors as he passes each one as though looking for something.

And then he stops at one in particular. He eyes it carefully before looking up at the ceiling to the lights again.

“What is it?” You can’t hide your curiosity.

“There’s still power to this base,” he says observantly, turning his attention back towards the computer. “Maybe…” he mumbles to himself, leaning over the monitor a bit, his fingers blindly searching before pressing the power button. Bucky stands back as the screen comes to life, but his eyes widen, alarmed as to what he sees.

“Bucky?” You ask apprehensively, moving to stand next to him and also look at the screen. It's mostly black, but there's a green contour of... a face?

"Hello Sergeant Barnes," the computer says with a German accent.

"Oh, what the fuck?" Bucky steps back, his hands fisting into his hair.

The voice chuckles, "Come now, is that any way to greet an old friend?"

“Is… the computer talking? To you?”

“Why, yes, Ms. Castle. I am,” your stomach turns over at the sound of the voice addressing you as well.

“What the fu-” you go to repeat Bucky’s words but get cut off.

“Does the facility seem… familiar, Barnes?” Zola asks, condescendingly. “Or, at the very least, the machinery?”

Bucky's eyes start to dart around the room, taking in the different equipment before muttering to himself in dismay, "these control the cyro chambers..."

The computer laughs menacingly, "Ah, so you do remember. Good! Good..."

Rolling his arm once while taking a large step forward, Bucky brings it down, crushing the computer completely. Exposed wires spark briefly from the powerful impact, otherwise leaving the room in silence.

“What- who was that?”

“Arnim Zola. A scientist for HYDRA. The one who, well…” Bucky passively gestures to himself, “experimented and is responsible for me.”

Suddenly, another one of the numerous screens comes to life- the digitized green face grinning, “tsk, tsk. Oh, Soldat…”

“I won’t answer to that anymore,” Bucky maintained through gritted teeth, raising his arm to disintegrate this talking monitor as well just as it says:

“Who said I was talking about you?”

Just then, you hear quick, trudged steps. The only warning you had before been picked up, as easily as a pillow and aggressively, carelessly thrown aside into a metal desk, knocking some of the computers that sat on top along with you.

You tried gasping for the air that was stolen from your lungs on impact with the floor, but it didn’t come. Instead, it burned, more than the pain creeping around the left side of your ribs as you sluggishly moved to sit on your knees. Looking up, you meet the threatening gaze of the one who attacked you.

He was exceptionally tall, especially from your view on the floor. Lean, but had an athletic build and strong. Super strong. He was dressed in all black tactical gear, the only color being a large red Soviet star in the center of his chest. A black mask covered all but his eyes, keeping him faceless. He was pale, as if he hadn't seen actual sunlight in years and had shoulder length dirty blonde hair.

But those eyes. They cemented you to the floor- glaring, daring you to move or even breathe. Just the look that he conveyed felt like you were in the presence of death itself. As you were able to take your first small breath, your lips parted, and eyes narrowed as they locked into his deadly gaze. There was such a darkness glazed over the emerald irises, but you'd recognize them anywhere.

"Luke..." you exhale, painfully. Both physically and emotionally.

His brow twitches slightly at you saying his name, like his mind is trying to recollect it from a long-forgotten dream. As his body turns to face you, he suddenly gets shoved back a few feet, "Back off, Castle." Bucky warns sternly, stepping between you and your brother.

Gripping the desk, you use it to hoist yourself up, whining slightly and grabbing at your left side realizing that you most likely have some broken ribs. The sound of your pain distracted Bucky for one second, and Luke took that opportunity to lunge forward and kick him high in the chest. With a breathless grunt, Bucky barrels backwards into you, knocking your back flush against the wall.

Luke was there in the blink of an eye, grabbing Bucky by the collar of his jacket. The two of them quickly became a tangle of throwing fists and kicks, breaking apart to find anything around to throw at one another. Overturning desks, throwing chairs, Bucky even chucked a still laughing Zola computer at Luke.

While you never thought the two most important men in your life would ever have the chance to meet, this is not the way you would have ever imagined it.

With your back still flat against the wall, you slide down to sit on the floor, starting to feel dizzy. Maybe it was the overwhelmingness of the situation, but instinctively you bring your hand to the back of your head, and it feels... wet. Looking at your fingers, they're now coated with fresh, warm crimson blood. It's getting harder to think straight with the tunneling vision, but you realize that you hit your head against the wall from the collision of bodies.

"Please..." you choke out a sob, "please, stop," you beg. But they can't hear you over their own heated screams and grunts as they continue to fight one another. Your narrowing vision focuses on Bucky, seeing that he is fighting more defensively- actively trying to avoid hurting Luke, pulling his punches where he can. Tears burn behind your eyes at the sight, knowing that if this were anyone else, it would already be over.

"Luke!" Bucky yells and quickly dodges to the side, avoiding the knife now sticking out of the wall that Luke threw at him. "Your sister came here to get you back! She's here for you. We're here for you!" Bucky maintained his distance, mirroring Luke's movement's trying to rely on his words rather than fists. They're pacing, waiting for the other to make a move.

The ringing in your ears was becoming too hard to ignore and as much as you tried to fight it, sweat started to bead up on your skin. You were losing consciousness, and fast.

"Bucky," you breathe out. His body tenses as he looks over at you, eyes wide. He jumps over one of the only remaining desks in the room and kneels down, hands hovering over body briefly, afraid to touch you.

"Okay... okay," he mutters to himself, scanning you over, his eyes linger on your hand with the now drying blood on them. Bucky gently cups your cheek, his thumb grazing over it as he forces a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You're gonna be okay, Sunshine. I-I'm going to get you outta here and get some help, okay?" His voice sounds shaky as his chest heaves, "Sam? I need a med evac for y/n,"

You nod once, or at least you think you do, as you continue to focus on Bucky. Everything around him starts to fade into a deeper black void. The last thing you see is Luke step into view over Bucky's shoulder to look down at you. At some point during their altercation, his mask had been ripped off. His lips were pressed into a thin line as his teeth clenched and remained expressionless while Bucky continued to stroke your hair and try to speak calm, reassuring words of how he would make sure you would be okay as you slipped under the surface of complete darkness.

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr @skulliecadaver-blog

[xxsycamore]

Ok so like hrengtadzk💀

Napo and MC fucking but like the unlocked door. Someone walks in. huehuehuehue

Basically I'm gonna say it again cuz I was being incoherent. Napo and MC run off in the middle of the day (like you said in your public sex hcs about him) and someone does catch them behind a (un)locked. There's people who get off of it me

Pretty that's exhibitionism but somewhat without consent

Ludy your imagination is dangerous

Napoleon + getting caught

Yes, it happens exactly how you pictured it, riding off the waves of excitement brought by the risk, with Napoleon teasing about how "Anyone could walk in, but we don't have to worry because you claimed you can be quiet, isn't that right?", being confident about his own ability to remain alert while fucking you. And truly, he is helping you stay quiet, be it by commanding you to bite the pillow or by clasping his hand tightly around your mouth.

Still, it's bound to happen sooner or later. Maybe he was too worked up and couldn't wait to pounce on you, maybe he fiddled with the key but never actually turned it in the lock... Suddenly the world has narrowed down to the two of you, all heavy breaths and rustling clothing and shallow thrusts that minimize the wet noises of copulation and the sweet nothings he says in your ear, making you toss your head to one side and then the other as if you want to deny the obscene thoughts he puts in your head... and you both get a little too much into it. And the door creaks open, the sound falling on deaf ears, as someone walks in.

Luckily, with those quickies, Napoleon always happens to be on top of you. It's only natural, that way he'd have complete control over every move, and you have to leave it to the commander in the room to conduct his strategy when the stakes are that high. It ends up working in your favor when you get caught in the act. Napoleon is the first to react, senses sharpened with years in the making from his past life, and even though his muscles tense, he remains completely still, shielding you with his body. You might have a more jumpy reaction, but he's got you in his grasp, knowing that it's best for you to remain where you are rather than try to crawl out from underneath him.

Not that the unfortunate resident who walked in would stay for long enough that you and Napoleon have to consider separating from each other. The guy excuses himself in the very next second and is out of sight before you can get a grasp of what's happening. You probably missed it, but it was something in Napoleon's eyes that drove him away. The door is slammed shut again and Napoleon is still buried inside you.

For someone who is always making himself available and cares deeply about helping his housemates, you understand that if that person remained just a second longer here, it would have meant that the mansion was burning down. At the very least.

Now, his following actions would be completely decided by your own reaction to what happened. He'll get on his elbows to have a better look at your face, he'll caress it and ask if you're alright. He'll say he's sorry for being so reckless. He will not touch you anymore if you got turned off by it.

But if you didn't... if you let him know that you're genuinely okay with what happened, if you rock your hips into his and show him how much you want him still... he won't be able to hold back anymore. He'll pin your hands down to the bed and fuck into you with new vigor, not even understanding himself in that moment. It could be his possessiveness clawing at him, making him want to erase the other person's presence from your mind completely. Even if they likely didn't get a glimpse of anything else than your face, isn't that enough to feel jealous over? Those are the lewd expressions that you do only for him. Noone else gets to see them.

Or maybe that's exactly what he achieved. By showing how much he owned you in that moment.

As a whole, it's pretty much hit or miss for him - largely decided by his partner's reaction to it, but also because the pleasure he gets out of it is momentarily and he'd be thinking about it afterward with an aftertaste of jealousy and regret in his mouth. He's not going to feel awkward facing the resident afterwards but he might still have to mention something about it, depending on who it was.

The situation ranges from Arthur's flirty "ohhh, space for one more ;) ?" (he's just trying to make it less awkward before he walks out of the room. i think.) to Isaac being traumatized for at least a week, to Sebastian rushing to his room to write in his diary, to Theo complaining out loud while he walks away about how he already has to be mindful of the same thing happening with Arthur and how he's this close to moving out.

5/10 "Liar. You're saying you liked it just a little bit, but I felt you tightening around me. Is this turning you on that much? Being watched as I take you? Do you wish they'd stayed longer, so you can make it clear to them how I'm the only one who can claim you, leave you well-loved and leaking my cum? You'll regret leaving me with this information, Nunuche."

-> (ALWAYS OPEN) send me a kink & I’ll give you a headcanon and rating for Napoleon!

🦶foot fetish 🥵breeding kink 🥕pregging 😈dom/sub 🍈breast kink ⛓bondage 🩸period kink 👄marking 🐺predator/prey 🏙public sex 🤗praise kink 👅 cunnilingus 🍌blowjobs (receiving)

[loveanton]

everything i didn’t say | eunseok + sungchan

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: you’ve always been a constant in jung sungchan’s life, he never once imagined a world where you weren’t in his life and often took you for granted. never once realizing just how much you loved him until it was too late.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: sungchan x f!reader x eunseok

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: friends to almost lovers!au

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 4.5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: heartbreak, sungchan is a meanie and says hurtful things.

⏤ 𝑎/n: was listening to old 5sos and inspiration struck

You've always been in love with Sungchan. From the very first moment you met him in the school courtyard, when he handed you that crumpled homework sheet with a shy smile, you knew he was different. As the years passed, that initial spark only grew stronger, turning into a fierce flame that consumed you every time you saw him. It’s funny, really, how someone can become your entire world without them even realizing it. Every laugh you shared, every secret you whispered, every moment you spent together, it was like living in a dream. But dreams are fragile, and reality has a way of waking you up abruptly.

Sungchan was always a constant in your life, a steady presence that you could always count on. He never once imagined a world where you weren’t there, by his side, supporting him through thick and thin. You think he took it for granted, your unwavering loyalty and affection. Not that you ever blamed him. It’s easy to overlook what’s always there, right in front of you.

You both grew up together, navigating the tumultuous years of adolescence, laughing through your awkward phases, and holding each other up through heartbreaks and disappointments. Sungchan had a magnetic personality; he was charming, kind, and effortlessly popular. People were drawn to him, and he thrived on the attention, though he remained humble and grounded. You, on the other hand, were content to remain in the background, his ever-present shadow, silently cheering him on.

There were moments when you thought he might feel the same way, fleeting glances and lingering touches that set your heart racing. But they were always followed by casual comments about other girls, reminders that you were firmly placed in the friend zone. Still, you held onto hope, convinced that one day he would see you, truly see you, for who you were and how deeply you cared for him.

You wonder when that day will come.

“Sungchan, I really don’t want to go to this party,” you say, trying to keep the whine out of your voice as you hug a cushion to your chest. “I’d rather just stay home and watch anime.”

Sungchan pouts, leaning against your bedroom door. “Come on, it’s going to be fun! Everyone’s going to be there, and I don’t want to go without you.”

Eunseok, Sungchan’s roommate and your mutual friend, looks up from his phone with a smirk. “Dude, if she doesn’t want to go, don’t hound her. Let her have her anime night in peace.”

Sungchan shoots Eunseok a pleading look. “Eunseok, help me out here. You know how boring it’ll be without her.”

Eunseok shrugs, leaning back against the wall. “Why don’t you just go by yourself for once? You don’t need to drag her to every single party, man.”

You smile gratefully at Eunseok, appreciating his attempt to take the pressure off. “Thanks, Eunseok. Besides, you know I’m not really a party person.”

Sungchan sighs dramatically, running a hand through his hair. “Please? Just this one last time? I promise I won’t bug you about parties anymore if you come tonight.”

You glance at Eunseok, who raises an eyebrow and grins. “Fine,” you say, giving in. “But only if Eunseok goes too.”

Eunseok chuckles. “Alright, I guess I can sacrifice my night to keep you two company.”

Sungchan’s face lights up, and he pumps his fist in the air. “Yes! It’s going to be awesome, I promise!”

Later that night, the three of you meet up and head to the party together. As soon as you walk through the door, the noise and energy hit you like a wave. Sungchan, in his element, quickly spots some friends and ditches you and Eunseok without a second thought.

You expected this. Taking a deep breath, you turn to Eunseok. “Guess it’s just you and me, then.”

He nods, giving you a sympathetic smile. “Let’s find a quieter spot, yeah?”

You both navigate through the crowd, eventually finding a relatively peaceful corner where the music is a little less deafening. You sit down on a couch, and Eunseok joins you, leaning back and looking around with mild interest.

“So, what’s the deal with you and Sungchan?” he asks after a moment. “You’ve been friends forever, right?”

“Yeah, since middle school,” you reply, feeling a familiar pang in your chest. “He’s always been there for me.”

Eunseok nods, studying your face. “And you’re always there for him.”

You sigh, picking at a loose thread on the couch. “I guess.”

Eunseok’s eyes soften. “You like him, don’t you?”

Your heart skips a beat, and you glance at him, startled. “Is it that obvious?”

He shrugs, giving you a small, knowing smile. “I’m observant. And it’s not just me. Everyone who’s close to you can see it.”

You feel a flush creeping up your neck. “I’ve tried to keep it a secret.”

Eunseok shakes his head. “You’re not fooling anyone. And honestly, I don’t think Sungchan is as clueless as he pretends to be.”

You stiffen, your eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”

Before Eunseok can answer, you spot Sungchan across the room, laughing with Yuri, the popular tennis captain. Your heart sinks as you watch them together, the easy way they interact, the chemistry that’s undeniable.

She’s beautiful, confident, and completely captivated by Sungchan. The way she looks at him, with an intensity that mirrors your own hidden feelings, sends a pang of jealousy through your chest. You try to shake it off, to remind yourself that Sungchan and you are just friends, that you have no claim over him. But it hurts, more than you want to admit.

Eunseok follows your gaze and sighs. “Why do you let him do this to you?”

You tear your eyes away from Sungchan and look at Eunseok, confused. “Do what?”

“Play with your feelings like this,” he says softly. “It’s like he knows exactly how you feel and he’s just stringing you along.”

You shake your head, feeling a surge of anger. “No, Sungchan isn’t like that. He’s not cruel.”

Eunseok holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “He brought you to a party knowing you hate them just to abandon you. You deserve better.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you blink them away, not wanting to cry in front of Eunseok. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just being stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” Eunseok says firmly. “You have a big heart, and you care deeply. That’s not a bad thing. But you also need to take care of yourself.”

You look down, feeling a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. “I just...I keep hoping that he’ll see me. Really see me.”

Eunseok leans closer, his voice gentle. “And what if he never does? Are you going to keep waiting forever?”

You bite your lip, unable to answer. The thought of giving up on Sungchan is too painful to contemplate.

Eunseok sighs, placing a hand on yours. “You’re a wonderful person. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life. Don’t waste your time on someone who doesn’t appreciate that.”

You look up at him, grateful for his words even though they sting. “Thanks, Eunseok. I needed to hear that.”

He smiles, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “Anytime.”

The rest of the night passes in a blur. You stick close to Eunseok, finding comfort in his presence. He’s a good listener, and you find yourself opening up to him more than you expected. He shares stories about his own life, his ambitions, and his struggles, and you realize how little you actually knew about him before tonight.

As the night wears on, you watch Sungchan and Yuri grow closer, their conversation becoming more intimate, their touches more frequent. You felt like an outsider, a silent observer to the budding romance that was unfolding before your eyes. You knew then that you were losing him, that the dream you had cherished for so long was slipping away.

As the party winds down, you and Eunseok decide to leave. Sungchan is nowhere to be found, still presumably with Yuri. You walk back to your apartment with Eunseok, the cool night air helping to clear your mind.

When you reach your door, Eunseok turns to you with a serious expression. “Remember what I said. You deserve to be happy.”

You nod, feeling a warmth in your chest that wasn’t there before. “I will. Thanks, Eunseok.”

He smiles and gives you a small wave before heading to his own apartment. You watch him go, a sense of calm settling over you.

The next morning, you wake up to a series of text messages lighting up your phone. Blinking away the sleep, you scroll through the notifications. Eunseok’s message catches your eye first.

[eunseok]: Hey, just checking in. How are you feeling this morning?

A soft smile tugs at your lips, warmth spreading through your chest at his concern. You scroll down to find another message from Sungchan.

[sungchanie]: last night was wild! i think i met the love of my life lol.”

Your heart sinks. You feel a sharp pang of jealousy and sadness. Taking a deep breath, you compose yourself and respond to Sungchan’s message with a simple thumbs-up emoji. You then turn back to Eunseok’s message, grateful for his support.

[you]: morning eunseok. just found out that sungchan thinks yuri is the love of his life lol :p

His reply is almost immediate.

[eunseok]: I’m sorry to hear that. Would you like me to come over? I have ice cream and a Netflix subscription.

You giggle despite yourself, feeling a bit lighter.

[you]: yes please! cookie dough ice cream?

[eunseok]: You got it. Be there soon.

A short while later, there’s a knock on your door. You open it to find Eunseok standing there with a tub of cookie dough ice cream, two spoons and a warm smile.

“Hey,” he says softly, stepping inside. He doesn’t ask any questions, just pulls you into a hug and leads you to the couch.

“Hey,” you reply, feeling a little better already.

You both settle in, the ice cream tub between you. As the first romcom starts playing, you can’t help but feel grateful for Eunseok’s presence. He makes you laugh at all the right moments, and the pain of seeing Sungchan with Yuri begins to fade into the background.

By the time you’re halfway through the second movie, you find yourself cuddled up against Eunseok, his arm draped over your shoulders. The warmth and comfort you feel with him are undeniable, and for the first time in a long while, you feel a sense of peace.

However a series of knocks on the door soon interrupts your tranquility. Sighing, you disentangle yourself from Eunseok and head to answer it. Standing there is Sungchan, his usual bright smile on his face.

“Hey! You won’t believe how amazing Yuri is,” he starts, letting himself in. His excitement is palpable, but it quickly dims when he spots Eunseok on the couch, occupying what has always been his unspoken spot.

“What’s he doing here?” Sungchan asks, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Eunseok looks up casually. “Hanging out with ____”

You take a deep breath, summoning the strength you’ve been cultivating over the past few hours. “Sungchan, we’re busy right now. Can you come back later?”

Sungchan looks taken aback, surprise flickering across his face. He glances between you and Eunseok before nodding slowly. “Uh, sure. I’ll catch you later then.”

You watch him leave, closing the door gently behind him. Turning back to Eunseok, you feel a strange mixture of relief and anxiety.

“I’m proud of you,” Eunseok says softly, pulling you back into his arms. “I know that probably wasn’t easy.”

You blush, shrugging lightly. “It’s... getting easier.”

The next few weeks follow a similar pattern. You and Eunseok spend more time together, finding comfort in each other’s company. You gradually start to distance yourself from Sungchan, realizing that holding onto the hope of him seeing you differently only brings more pain.

Sometimes, the days that follow are a blur of pain and numbness. Sungchan calls and texts you, mostly about Yuri and you can’t bring yourself to respond. You need space, time to come to terms with the reality that he has found someone else, someone who isn’t you. You tell yourself that you should be happy for him, that his happiness is all that matters, but it’s a bitter pill to swallow.

One evening, as you're sitting in your room, trying to focus on studying, your phone lights up with a text message. It’s from Sungchan.

[sungchanie]: did i do something wrong?

Your heart sinks at the message. Despite everything, you still care deeply about him, and the thought of hurting him hurts you too. You stare at the screen, unsure of how to respond.

A few minutes later, another message comes through.

[sungchanie]: i hate the silent treatment y/n :(

You take a deep breath, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. As much as you don’t want to feel anything for him anymore, you can’t deny the rush of emotions that flood your chest.

[you]: “hey sungchan. you haven’t done anything wrong,,,just been swamped with classes and needed some time to myself

Almost immediately, your phone buzzes with another message from him.

[sungchanie]: can i come over? i miss hanging out with you

You hesitate for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip. Despite everything, you find yourself typing back.

[you]: sure

Not long after, there’s a knock on your door. You take a deep breath and open it to find Sungchan standing there with a sheepish smile.

“Hey,” he says softly, stepping inside. “I’ve missed you.”

You manage a small smile. “I’ve missed you too.”

He glances around your room. “Where’s Eunseok? I’m surprised he’s not attached to your hip.”

You chuckle nervously, feeling a pang of guilt. “He’s at a study group.”

Sungchan nods, taking a seat on your bed. “So, about Yuri...”

Your heart sinks, but you swallow the lump in your throat and force a smile. “Yeah, tell me about her.”

Sungchan launches into how he and Yuri have been on a few dates, how he thinks he’s going to ask her out officially soon. You listen, nodding along and trying to push down the ache in your chest.

“That’s great, Sungchan,” you manage to say, forcing cheerfulness into your tone. “I’m really happy for you.”

Just then, your phone buzzes with a text message from Eunseok.

[eunseok]: Hey! Would you like to join me and some friends for a game night tonight?

You smile at the invitation and text back quickly.

[you]: sure! i’ll be there ^-^

Sungchan glances at your phone curiously. “Who’s that?”

You hesitate, then decide to be honest. “It’s Eunseok. He invited me to join him for a game night with his friends.”

Sungchan’s expression shifts slightly, a flicker of jealousy crossing his face. “Oh. Are you guys... dating?”

Your heart skips a beat at the question, and you falter for a moment. “Um, no, we’re just friends.”

But Sungchan doesn’t seem satisfied with your answer. His brows furrow, and he leans forward, his voice tinged with frustration. “It’s just... you two seem really close. It almost feels like he’s replacing me.”

You feel a surge of frustration and hurt. “Sungchan, he’s just being a good friend. No one could ever replace you.”

He shakes his head, his frustration boiling over. “Do you even realize what you’re doing? You’re letting Eunseok get in between us!”

Your eyes widen in shock. “What are you talking about? There’s nothing going on between me and Eunseok. He’s just my friend.”

Sungchan stands up, his voice rising. “I’ve known you for so long, and now suddenly Eunseok is always around. It’s like I don’t even matter anymore!”

You stand up too, your own anger bubbling. “That’s not fair, Sungchan! You’ve been spending all your time with Yuri, and I needed someone to talk to. Eunseok has been there for me when you weren’t.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “You don’t get it, do you? You’ve replaced me with him. Every time I turn around, he’s there. And it feels like you don’t even care.”

Tears prick at your eyes as you try to defend yourself. “I do care! But you’re the one who’s been distant. You’re the one who found someone else.”

Sungchan’s eyes flash with hurt and anger. “Maybe I did, but that doesn’t mean you had to replace me so easily.”

You shake your head, feeling the weight of his words. “You’re being unfair, Sungchan. Eunseok is just a good friend. You’re the one who’s been pushing me away.”

His face hardens, and he takes a step back. “Maybe I needed to, because it hurts too much to see you with him.”

You’re stunned into silence, the weight of his confession hanging in the air. Before you can say anything, he turns on his heel and storms out of your room, slamming the door behind him.

You collapse onto your bed, tears streaming down your face. The argument replays in your mind, each word cutting deeper than the last. You can’t shake the feeling of loss and confusion, wondering how things went so wrong.

Despite your pain, you decide to suck it up and go to the game night. You text Eunseok, letting him know you’re on your way. When you arrive, his friends greet you warmly, their cheerful banter and infectious energy immediately starting to lift your spirits.

Eunseok’s friends, Beomgyu, Anton, Karina, Yujin and Jake, quickly draw you into their circle. They’re a lively bunch, and it’s impossible not to be swept up in their enthusiasm.

“Alright, who’s ready for a game of spoons?” Beomgyu announces, waggling his eyebrows mischievously.

“You’re not planning to cheat again, are you, Beomgyu?” Yujin teases, raising an eyebrow.

He gasps dramatically. “Me? Cheat? Never!” But there’s a twinkle in his eye that suggests otherwise.

Anton and Jake’s dynamic is particularly amusing. Anton is calm and methodical, while Jake is a bundle of energy, constantly in motion. They bicker and banter like an old married couple, which keeps you entertained and helps take your mind off Sungchan.

As the game progresses, you can’t help but notice Beomgyu’s suspiciously fast reflexes. Every time a spoon is up for grabs, he somehow always manages to snatch it first.

“I’m onto you, Beomgyu,” you say with a mock-serious tone after he wins yet another round. “You’re definitely cheating.”

He laughs, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just that good, I swear!”

Eunseok, sitting next to you, chuckles. “Don’t let him fool you, ____. Beomgyu’s a known cheater.”

You laugh along, feeling more relaxed than you have all evening but Eunseok’s keen eyes don’t miss the occasional flickers of sadness that cross your face. After you both lose a particularly intense round of spoons, he stands up and offers you a hand.

“Help me with snacks in the kitchen?” he asks gently.

You nod and follow him, grateful for the brief escape. In the kitchen, Eunseok begins prepping more snacks, occasionally feeding you bits of fruit or cheese.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, his concern evident.

You sigh, leaning against the counter. “Sungchan and I got into an argument before I came over.”

Eunseok pauses, looking at you intently. “What was it about?”

You hesitate, then spill the details about Sungchan feeling replaced by Eunseok and how hurt and jealous he seemed. Eunseok’s expression darkens.

“He said that it hurt too much to see us together.”

“That’s manipulative,” he says bluntly.

You shake your head, feeling a rush of defensiveness. “He’s just hurt, Eunseok.”

“He knows what he’s doing, ____,” Eunseok counters. “Why would he say that it hurts to see us together if he doesn’t have feelings for you? He’s just stringing you along.”

You don’t know what to say, the truth of his words sinking in but conflicting with your loyalty to Sungchan. The emotions swirling inside you become too much to handle.

“I think I should go home,” you finally say, your voice small.

Eunseok’s face falls. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

“It’s not you,” you reassure him, managing a weak smile. “It’s just hitting me how messed up this situation is.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Let me walk you home.”

You shake your head. “No, you should stay with your friends. I’ll be fine.”

Reluctantly, Eunseok nods. “Alright, but text me when you get home, okay?”

“I will,” you promise.

As you make your way home, your mind races with thoughts of the evening’s events. You replay Eunseok’s words over and over, feeling a mixture of frustration, sadness, and an unexpected hint of clarity.

When you finally arrive home, you text Eunseok as promised.

[you]: i’m home. thanks for tonight

[eunseok]: Anytime. I'm here if you need to talk.

You appreciate his unwavering support but feel a heavy weight pressing on your chest. You sit on your bed, staring at your phone, wondering how you ended up in this tangled web of emotions.

The next week is a blur of classes and studying. You try to avoid thinking about Sungchan and focus on your schoolwork, but it’s a losing battle. His absence is a constant ache, a reminder of the distance growing between you.

Tonight, you find yourself standing in front of his apartment, your heart pounding in your chest. You don’t know what you hope to achieve, but you know you can’t keep pretending that everything is okay. You need closure, one way or another.

Before you can even knock, the door swings open and Sungchan stands there, surprise flashing across his face when he sees you. “____, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

Just then, Yuri pops out from behind Sungchan, wrapping her arms around his waist and planting a kiss on his lips. Your heart clenches as you watch them, but you force yourself to stay composed.

After a moment, Yuri finally pulls away. “I’ll see you later, Sungchan,” she says, giving him one last peck and you a smug grin before leaving.

Once she’s gone, Sungchan lets you in, making a snarky comment as he closes the door. “Where’s Eunseok? I thought he’d be glued to your side.”

You stay calm and reply, “I didn’t come to fight with you, Sungchan. I just want to clear the air.”

He nods, crossing his arms. “So, are you ready to apologize?”

You’re taken aback. “Apologize for what?”

“For being a bad friend recently,” he says, standing his ground.

Anger rises within you. “No, Sungchan. You’ve been a bad friend. You blew me off at the party after begging me to go. Then here comes Yuri, and now you’re completely pussy whipped.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of Yuri. I thought you’d be over your little high school crush by now.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “What?”

Sungchan stares at you blankly and you feel anger coursing through your veins as you realize he’s known all this time. He knew just how much you love and care for him and he took it selfishly, knowing just what to say to keep you by his side. He only ever gave you just enough to string you along and give you false hope. Eunseok was right.

“How could you be so... so cruel? All this time you knew I liked you but led me on and kept me around for your own satisfaction. How could you do that? We’re supposed to be best friends.”

“Exactly,” he snaps back. “Best friends. So stop thinking we’ll ever be more. It weirds me out.”

The argument escalates, voices rising with each exchange.

“You knew,” you say, tears welling up in your eyes. “You knew how I felt and you still... How could you do that?”

“I didn’t have feelings for you then, and I still don’t now,” Sungchan retorts, his face twisted in anger. “You need to move on.”

“How could you be so heartless?” you cry out, the pain evident in your voice. “You used me. You knew how much I cared and you used me.”

Sungchan’s expression softens for a moment, guilt flickering in his eyes, but it quickly hardens again. “I didn’t use you. I thought you were over it. I thought we were just friends.”

You shake your head, tears streaming down your face. “Go screw yourself, Sungchan.”

You turn towards the door, ready to leave, but before you can open it, Eunseok lets himself in. He sees your tears and Sungchan’s guilty expression, his own face hardening with anger.

“What the hell is going on here?” Eunseok demands, glaring at Sungchan before turning his attention to you. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

He grabs your hand and leads you away, his grip firm but gentle. You don’t resist, too overwhelmed by the confrontation to do anything but follow him. He takes you to a nearby boba shop and finds a quiet corner for the two of you. After placing your orders, he brings your drink and sits beside you, offering silent support.

For a while, you both sip your drinks in silence. Then, Eunseok starts talking about his economics midterm, detailing how tough it was and how he’s sure he failed. You appreciate his attempt to distract you and let him continue, feeling a small sense of normalcy returning.

Once he’s done venting about his exam, you take a deep breath and softly say, “Thank you.”

He smiles gently. “You never have to thank me. I’m here for you, always.”

He looks at you with gentle concern. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You play with the straw of your drink, gathering your thoughts. “We had a huge fight. Sungchan said some really hurtful things… things I didn’t expect him to say.”

Eunseok’s face darkens. “What did he say?”

You recount the argument, detailing how Sungchan accused you of being a bad friend and dismissed your feelings as a mere high school crush. By the time you’re done, Eunseok is seething with anger on your behalf.

“He’s an immature prick,” he snaps, his eyes flashing with anger. “How could he say those things to you? After everything you’ve done for him?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper, tears welling up again. “I thought he was my best friend.”

Eunseok takes your hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. “You deserve so much better, ____. Don’t let him make you feel like you’re in the wrong. You’ve been an amazing friend to him, and he doesn’t appreciate it.”

His words are like a balm to your wounded heart, and you manage a small smile. “Thank you, Eunseok. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He smiles back, his anger slowly dissipating. “You’ll never have to find out. I’m here for you, always.”

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, sipping your drinks and finding solace in each other’s presence.

[ramblesbiab]

sometimes all I need is to be a small town girl in 1960s pennsylvania who's worried about not being attracted to any of the boys in town. All the other gals are startin' to get hitched, after all, and mama's startin' to get on my back about not bein' able to find my special someone.

Things all change, though, when we take a trip out to Kennywood - money's tight on the ol' farm, but daddy wanted to surprise us after a good season. There's so many people in one place it nearly makes my head spin. It's not long before I'm split off from my parents, what with all my siblings tearing them every which way.

As if my nerves aren't on end enough, my body freezes right in place as I catch notice of a group of city gals. Hard to even tell they're gals - they're dressed in black, with short hair and tall boots. I gulp when one looks at me. She's - she's pretty. Not a type of pretty I ever seen before, but it's hard to call her anythin' else.

"Need something, doll?" she calls out of nowhere. Her group snickers as she kicks off the wall she was leanin' against and walks closer. My eyes whip up and down her obnoxious outfit. It's so - shiny. I wonder how it feels. "My eyes are up here, doll."

"I wasn't...," I start, but the issue is, I was. My cheeks go hot. I'd run but my feet are still stuck. "Sorry," I squeak.

"Never said it was a problem," she whispers. Her voice low and sweet like fresh honey, drippin' from her deep black lips. She steps even closer. Her group isn't laughin' anymore, but she is, right in my face.

"What do you want?" I cross my arms and puff my chest the best I can. Mama always tells me to be more confident in myself, otherwise the world will step all over me. Hard not to feel like I'm already bein' stepped on, though, as the gal throws her head back from laughin' even harder. "Rude."

"It's more rude to stare, doll."

"Well I think it's more rude to laugh in a stranger's face," I counter. Her eyes glimmer, and she reaches a hand up. Two fingers liftin' my chin. I gulp again.

"Oh yeah?" she asks. "So it'd be better if I wasn't a stranger, then?" My mouth hangs open a bit. Her jawline is so sharp. She nods, and once my head catches on to that fact, I find myself lookin' at the Old Mill.

I know gossip's a sin, but I've heard plenty a rumor about the Old Mill. Especially with gals like this. Gals who look like they've never worn a proper dress in their life and got their hair caught in a tornado. There's not one good reason for me to go with her. I should go find one of my younger siblings and take 'em on the carousel.

"I've never been on that," I whisper instead, my teeth tuggin' at my lower lip. I've never been this nervous. It's a fluffy kind of nervous, the kind other gals talk about feelin' around boys. Butterflies floatin' around my stomach and all that.

"Wanna change that?" She starts walking before I answer. I follow. Her group trails us, looking between each other and snickerin' to themselves. I could still run. Get the - pardon me - hell out of here, maybe even tell mama I'm sick.

For reasons I can't for the life of me figure out, I stay by the pretty gal's side. "What's your name?" I whisper.

"Call me Jackie," she grins. "Yours?"

"Lily," I answer. We're quiet for the rest of the line. Jackie loads into the boat first, rocking it slightly as her long legs try to fit in place. She nods me in.

We're - close. Real close. My seat's damp but I hardly notice as we're lurched forward. "Hey, easy now," she teases. "It's a bit of a rough ride. You better get used to it."

"Yeah." My thighs squeeze together. Darkness covers us both. The trickling of water is almost calming, but it's interrupted as she reaches out of the boat and starts holding at the wall. "You're not supposed to be out of the boat."

"I'll be back in a second, doll. Don't have to be so needy," she coos. I don't know what that means. I don't need anythin' from a gal like her. This is just - her showin' me a ride I hadn't been on. Then it sets in what she's doing, as our boat slows a crawl. "There we go."

I have no clue what to say. That's one half of the rumor true. My teeth find my lip again. I'm not thinkin' straight right now, not at all. This is a mistake. It has to be.

Not much I can do about it now. I turn to her. "So."

"So," she repeats. Her hand moves to my thigh. Before I can stop myself, a whimper leaves my throat. Oh lord. This isn't right. Mama raised me better then this, then to fall for a damn temptress. "You nervous?"

"I've never been on this," I breathe out. My body leans into hers. I look up into her eyes, inky but still glowing. "I've... I've never cared much for other rides here. Maybe this'll be the one I like."

Jackie laughs, kinder this time. "It better be." Her hand drifts up to the back of my neck, and she pulls me closer. Her breath on my lips. It's heavenly. "Do you want this, Lily?"

"I might." I touch her arm, teasin' up it slowly with a few fingers. "You think you can help me be sure?"

"Gladly," she smirks. Then it happens. Her lips on mine, warm and pillowy. My body tenses up all at once, then relaxes. This is beyond anythin' I've ever felt before. Her hand dives into my hair and I melt against it. "You like that, doll?"

"Uh huh," is all I can get out. Her other hand gets on me too. I know it's wrong, but goddamn does it feel right. I kiss her deeply, so deep our teeth clack and she laughs into my mouth.

I don't know what happens when the ride ends, but that doesn't matter now. The next few minutes belong to the darkness, and to the woman holding me tightly.

ahem

but anyway yeah, that would be cool.

[shieldofiron]

Vibe Check Part 5

Blaze It

The Frat Boy Au

Read Previous on Ao3 or tumblr.

It felt insane to search for a lighter when he was out of breath like this, digging across Billy’s desk like a madman. Steve knows Billy has a lighter. Little red one, little blue one, Steve has seen them.

He switches to the top drawer of the dresser when the door flies open.

“What the hell was that, man?”

“I’m,” Steve gasps. “Gonna have like… a panic attack or something.”

That’s what it feels like right? Like you could die.

He can’t look at Billy. Has to stay focused. Can’t slip up again.

“You have a joint hidden somewhere right? And your lighter? Billy, I-“

Billy springs forward, closing his top drawer practically on Steve’s fingers.

He lays his fingers on Steve’s shoulder, and it’s like the world slows down. He swears he can feel every ridge of Billy’s fingerprint, he can feel the sweat pop out of his own skin.

He’s been freaking out for two weeks. Looking at pictures of the two of them, at parties, around insta and stuff. Arms thrown around each other, drunkenly grinning. There’s evidence everywhere. Steve, looking at Billy with these glassy eyes. Confused, punch drunk eyes, all the time. He knows how it feels when Billy touches him, goosebumps breaking out everywhere. And Billy’s always smiling, looking into the camera. Sometimes at Steve, but with this easy look on his face. Like lightning and then thunder, Steve is… Steve is…

“C’mon, Stevie,” Billy takes his hand and Steve’s chest seizes up like he’s having a heart attack.

“Where are we going?”

“I left my shit in Eddie’s room,” Billy shrugs.

Does it not mean anything to Billy? It must not. He’s always like that. Handsy. Arms around Eddie, hand in Argyle’s hair. He’s just a touchy guy, but he’s a guy. And Steve is a guy.

Robin doesn’t know what she’s talking about except when Billy’s hand lingers at the small of Steve’s back he does feel a little lightheaded.

Munson and Carver’s room is in its typical shape. One bed neatly made, navy sheets tucked into the mattress, a picture above the bed in a frame that says “Jesus Loves Me” in girly lettering. The other side is a disaster, sheets a wreck, wastebasket overflowing with condom wrappers.

“Do you think he even sleeps here?” Billy throws himself on Carver’s bed. “No way right? Eddie’s girl will make you mental.”

Steve starts rooting around in Eddie’s desk. “Probably not.”

“Nightstand, Pretty Boy,” Billy prompts. “I wonder why they decided to room together again anyway.”

“Who knows. I think they like being pissed off at each other,” Steve scrambles for the first half used joint he sees like it’s made of gold. He lights it with one of many lighters and takes a deep shaky pull. God he needed this. He needs a grip.

“Hmm,” Billy’s voice is soft and distant, and Steve turns just to see Billy slam the drawer to Carver’s nightstand shut.

“What’d you see?” Steve steps towards Billy.

The house was built for probably half as many brothers, and they’re big rooms but for some reason Carver and Munson keep their beds almost pushed together. Maybe it’s all Carver’s weights and Eddie’s gaming setup. But whatever it is, Billy just reaches up and tugs Steve away from his trajectory, almost pulling him on top of Billy, really.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“What? Billy-“ Steve frowns around the joint

“Gimme a blowback, Stevie,” Billy’s got his hand fisted in Steve’s tank top and he’s… well…

This is the problem. Steve is weird about him. Doesn’t know when it started but clearly sometime before Robin saw them.

Steve feels weird about the whole thing. All foggy when he tries to think about it.

Billy’s just a guy hanging with his best friend. And sometimes he takes that touchy stuff too far but if only Steve wasn’t reacting this way.

Billy grabs his jaw and goosebumps, lightning, thunder. Steve blows out without thinking, his brain scrambled on leaning over Billy like this, in the dim light of the floor lamp. Billy’s fingers pinch and press into Steve’s cheeks. Like if he pressed hard enough Steve’s secret might slip out with it.

“You’ve been acting weird,” Billy says after a long moment, and Steve realizes he’s been staring, falling into Billy’s dimly lit face. Could Steve? He’s beginning to think he always would have. Always could.

“I’ve just been. Thinking about stuff.”

Billy doesn’t reply right away, takes the roach from Steve’s hand and curses softly, like it burns. He tugs a little on Steve’s shirt and Steve goes down next to him, flopping half onto Billy’s lap and scrambling to sit upright.

“Did I do something?” Billy’s squinting hard at the poster above Eddie’s bed, like he’s about to burn a hole in it. “Something to upset you?”

“No, Bils. You didn’t do anything,” Steve mutters. “Just thinking about me. Promise.”

Billy swallows, looking down into his hands. “Good. If… if you need someone to talk to you know I’m here right?”

As if Billy could understand this. This thing that sits in Steve’s stomach, poisoning them.

“Yeah. I know, Billy. You’re my best friend, I just… gotta work this out.”

Later lying in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to Eddie laughing through the wall, Steve tests the word. Tries it out, even though no one can hear it. Feels goosebumps, lightening, thunder and emptiness too. He needs to move on.

He turns and looks at the bed next to him. Billy always sleeps curled up in a tight ball. His shoulders barely rise and fall in the dark.

Steve reaches out for his phone and curls into a ball of his own. He turns the sound off and prays to God his dad can’t check his data searches.

[yuumcbr]

Seven, give me one more chance!!

Hey how's it going? This is the first time I write a story, finish it and post it.

SUMMARY: Leona died in the Overblot, Crowley asks you to use his unique magic "Seven, give me one more chance" and go back in time to save him. However, after many attempts you decide to go back in time much further and cancel the inter-bedroom games, even though Leona hates you for it.

WARNING: Time travel, Death, Overblot, open ending (my heart couldn't bear to write until the end), reader insertion, I don't use Y/N, reader is not Yuu, Reader is in Scarabia, Google Tradutor, mental fatigue for the reader, the reader needs a hug, possible Leona X reader, but it can be read as platonic , like creating a friendship that will last a lifetime, nothing too heavy, just angst without comfort.

There were 58 attempts in a row and no breaks (ok, maybe you caught a few breaks, but you never took your goal out of your mind).

You approach Leona who is dead on the floor in a pool of dark paint.

No matter how many times you see this scene, it hurts worse than you remember the last time!

If you ask anyone, you've only known Leona for 3 days. And somehow you knew exactly everything that was necessary for him to let you stay by her side without stressing, but for you it wasn't like that...

You remember it like it was yesterday, you were excited because everyone on your team had recovered from the weird injuries that happened and would be able to play.

There were rumors among the students that the culprit of the recent "accidents" was Savanaclaw's vice-leader and that he followed his Housewarden's rules in doing so (you later discovered that Ruggie was not the vice-leader and that in fact, Savanaclaw there was no deputy leader).

Unfortunately, before the game started it was cancelled. You and everyone you knew were outraged by the idea.It didn't take long for you to discover that the leader of the King of Beasts' dormitory, the second prince of Sunset Savana, Leona Kingscholar had died.

And with all the companies that would share NRC's long-awaited dorm games all but talking about the death of Savanaclaw's housewarden, it didn't take long for Director Crowley to ask for his help again.

If there's anything you regret putting on your student resume, it was your unique magic, "Seven, give me one more chance!"

Your unique magic allowed you to go back in time a week, and be able to redo something that had happened.

At the beginning of the school year, Crowley asked you to save the housewarden Riddle Rosehearts from the same fate that Leona had suffered, you were rewarded for that and this time it would be no different.

So that Crowley could remember what he had promised, he engraved on a memory stone the promise of his reward and told him to engrave his failures on the stone every time he failed in his mission.

It wasn't because you could go back in time that you could get everything you wanted on the first try, when you saved Riddle, you had to use your unique magic twice before you managed to save him.

Riddle never knew you helped him, because for him. He had never even come close to overblotting.

Crowley promised you that every time you needed to use your unique magic he would pay you 10,000 madols.

Now, in the present you regretted making that deal. You approached Leona countless times until she literally learned exactly how to act around him, you became attached, you created bonds you thought you would never create.

Just to watch him die, over and over again. Attempt after attempt. And in each attempt, you see that he didn't remember anything you experienced.

You didn't care about the money anymore, all you wanted was for Leona to live or just turn into sand and die next to her.

No...You couldn't die, because when you died, Leona would no longer have any chance of living.

When did you start to care about him so much?You just wanted this all to end as you cried over Leona's dead body. Almost powerlessly, you took out the memory stone that Crowley had given you a long time ago.

And headmage who had arrived to see what the mess was about saw you holding her in tears.

"Fa...il 58"

Crowley approached, and saw that the memory stone was black when normally they are transparent.

Memory stones take on the color of the feelings of the memories they carry, and usually the colors are so faint that you need to look at them closely to see them.

It may not seem like it, but Crowley is a smart guy. He knows about his unique magic, he knows that he has already asked you to do several services for him, he knows that memory stones are difficult to get and he knows how many times he has given them to you for you to show him later.

Knowing this, it doesn't take much to connect the dots.

You were in a cycle of endless repetitions to do something he ordered, but from the color of the stone, he understood that you were suffering from it.

As much as he knew that several consequences would fall on him, Crowley knew when to give up, even though he had just discovered that he was on a mission to avoid this disaster.

"Let's stop here!" He spoke, placing a hand on your shoulder, only for you to look incredulous as you understood the meaning of his words.

"No…it's not over yet! I can continue…le..leave it to me!!" You said, your voice breaking and looking at him as if asking for permission, you would do it anyway.

If there's something you learned from your time with Leona that only you can choose when to give up, no one can do it for you, ever!

So you asked Crowley for a power-enhancing potion.

If it was his last attempt, you would throw all your cards on the table! You'd cancel inter-dorm games before they even started.

LEONA FORGIVE YOU, BUT HE'S NOT DYING AGAIN ON HIS TURN!!

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

°•°•°•°•°•

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The first thing you feel when you wake up is your bed, it doesn't take you even 5 seconds to get out of bed, soon being struck by dizziness.

You take out your cell phone and look at the date and time, apparently you managed to go back long enough to prevent future events.

And just in case you fail, you may have had time to rest and try again.

After getting ready, you run to the building where Crowley's office is, you can't help but feel a wave of hope over your chest.

You barely knock on the door and go in (read that as opening the door with so much force that it makes a tremendous bang).

"Headmage, I bring news!!" You say smiling, then you stop and notice that Crowley was in the middle of a meeting with the housewardens.

Silence

...

..

.

"Kalim, you should have more control over the students in your dorm!" Vil says it as advice you find too oppressive.

"Uh...well!?" Kalim ends up having no reaction.

Riddle stares at you, "If you allow me, I can give you a proper punishment!"

Kalim looked embarrassed, it wasn't his intention to do this to his housewarden. And that ruins his good mood.

"Maybe before you scold the students in other people's dorms, you should take care of your own!" You say, taking a few steps forward to be able to communicate better.

It's not that you don't want to get out of there as quickly as possible and hide your head under the ground like an ostrich. You just don't like being told off by your dorm leader.

Kalim may not be the best, but unlike all the other housewardens, he has empathy and this makes him the best when it comes to helping the students in his dorm.

"Pomefiore students don't barge into important meetings without being invited and I dare say those from Heartsbyul are on a similar level!" Vil narrows his eyes at you.

"If a similar level you mean by blowing up the science lab almost every week and burning statues around. Of course!! You guys are amazing! Believe what you want, as long as you don't bother me or my housewarden!" You can see Vil sending you an extremely nasty look which you gladly send back, though Kalim flinches slightly in surprise.

Everyone knows that Rook is always doing new experiments in the science club and almost every week there is a new mess in the laboratory, not to mention that the fact that the statue of the Queen of Hearts was burned at the beginning of the year by students from Heartstabyul and Ramshackle will be remembered for ever.

"If I may" Azul gets everyone's attention dispelling the discussion "As much as I don't agree with this student's actions, don't you think you're missing something?"

"Something?" Crowley tries to remember, but was cut off by Idia's voice on her tablet.

"The student said he had news!" Idia said in a tired, slurred voice.

"The right!" Crowley remembered your entrance! "So tell me young man, what trouble do you bring me this time?" The headmage asked

The 'This time' didn't go unnoticed by the people in the room.

You looked at the housewardens, your gaze stopping a little longer than it should on Leona, he would hate you for that. Then you fixate on the one crow you started to hate with all your might and smile.

"We have to cancel the inter-dorm tournament!" You say in a tone that is way too serious for someone Kalim remembers that the day before he was super excited about making the official dorm team and that scares him.

Apparently he wasn't the only one shocked by the information, you can see Azul's glasses fall a little, Vil's eyebrows twitch, Riddle and Idia's gasp. And the slight twitching of Leona's ears.

Leona gets stressed and gets up from her seat, with her eyebrows furrowed and her tail flicking to one side and then the other. "You seem like quite an audacious herbivore, to just assume you can come in and say whatever you want, as if everyone will accept what you say with their heads bowed!"

You know that expression, and as much as he's a hunter threatening his prey, you can only manage a sly smile.

"And who said I need you or anyone to accept anything, your highness? You can have your say, but Crowley has the final say!" You say sarcastically looking at him.

You know you shouldn't irritate him more than he already is, but something in you knows you can handle it.

If Leona is going to hate him, you want to do it in the same way you did when he still "tolerated" you, as he used to say.

Leona didn't seem happy with her answer. Of course, who in their right mind would be?

"ENOUGH!!" Crowley screams and this makes Leona lower her ears a little at Crowley's scream for a moment.

"Young man, I want you to know that I can't just cancel the games for any reason!" Crowley approaches.

"Apparently the final decision really came from Crowley!" Vil speaks with a smile.

"Therefore!" Headmage walks over and puts a hand on his shoulder, "Give me the stone and I'll be canceling everything related to the games this year!"

"What's/Ah?" Everyone in the room (except you and the director) is shocked by the news.

Crowley knows about your unique magic and knows that you wouldn't suggest this crazy idea without his permission in some future timeline.

"Wait headmage!" Riddle stands up from his seat, "You can't cancel just because an unruly student suggested it!"

"Exactly!" It was Blue's turn to stand up, "We would incur a huge loss due to several breaches of contracts, I would appreciate it if you thought a little more about the matter!"

"I disagree! Overthinking will only make us fail again and we don't have that option!" You tell the director.

"Fail again?" The lion beastman next to you whispers as if trying to record this information.

Crowley on the other hand stares at you for a few seconds before speaking:

"Won't we get another chance?... How much of your magic did you use to accomplish your last task?!" The director looks scared, he finally pays enough attention to notice you don't have your pen.

You furrow your eyebrows, the amount of magic you used to save the second prince of Sunset Savannah almost made you go into overblot and the negative feelings building up weren't helping at all.

You simply keep your pen in a compartment inside your uniform, because you don't like looking in the mirror and seeing that pen with a stone that is practically black and obscured by the stain, with a hint of bright red (Before you start storing it) There you tried to convince yourself that this little red piece was your hope for a better future).

You look at him for a moment and put your hand in your pocket, taking out a small cloth bag inside which there were two memory stones, one black, where you kept your failures and the other yellow, where you kept the good moments of your past. and coming in time.

As the last few times Crowley looks at the black stone in amazement, you also know that the other housewardens who managed to see the stone know that it doesn't bring back good memories.

"If I really need to show this to someone to explain the reason for canceling the games, make sure it's someone who won't bother me later!" You give the stone to the director.

The director becomes serious, as far as he remembered, you were someone quite soft and lively. He understands that he must have asked for something difficult, so he just agrees.

"Wait, wait! So we're really canceling the games?" Reality finally sinks in for Kalim, he looks at you "You were so excited about this yesterday..."

You look at your housewarden, he was always a great mayor for Scarabia and always cheered you up when you were down, you know how excited he was for the games, but he also understands that he has to make a choice.

The games or LeonaAnd you know you would always choose Leona!

"Sorry Kalim-Senpai! That choice was the best we could find!" You bowed your head slightly in a sign of respect. "If you'll excuse me, class will start soon!" You bow towards the housewardens and Crowley as if you had never offended them and leave.

The room is silent for a while, everyone with their own thoughts.

Leona returned to her seat irritated and the meeting continued a little later."Headmage..." Azul called out to Crowley who focused on the housewarden. "That student gave you a memory stone as an explanation for canceling the games, right?"

°•°•°•°•°•°•°

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

°•°•°•°•°•°•°

During class, you didn't care about staying focused, because besides already knowing next month's material practically by heart, you couldn't get two faces out of your mind.

The first was that of his housewarden, Kalim Al-Asim. If you knew anyone who was excited for the games it was him.

Of course he may have forgotten about the games when Jamil, his deputy housewarden was injured just before the games started.

He had looked at you as if you had betrayed him. You kind of understand, since you remember that before all the mess started, you were one of the most excited people in Scarabia for the tournament.

And the second face was Leona's, his look was one of disgust, you had pulled the rug out from under her and all of Savanaclaw in less than five minutes.

Taking all your effort and planning down the drain You know you're going to get some angry looks over the next few months, and you know your mood is about to collapse.

You don't think isolating yourself is the best option, as it will make you anxious. But facing the stress of school and having multiple students on your tail would also be horrible.

Perhaps the best option is to go to Crewel-sensei and ask for help with your stain, he will probably give you a certificate and send you to the infirmary, which is a safe place to a certain extent.

I probably won't continue, but feel free to imagine what will happen.

Don't feed my work to AI.

[phreia-xiii]

Resonance (Jiyan x Reader x Calcharo) [Chapter 1 : Drained]

How long has he been awake?

Jiyan wasn't entirely sure. The days had started to blend into one another after the most recent set of battles, with Tacet Discord outbreaks happening more and more frequently. Every day was another day of fighting, of trying his hardest to make sure every one of his fellow Rangers made it through the day and had another day where they might be able to get home.

...Some days though, even his best efforts were for nothing.

This was one of those days.

He fought fiercely, trying to keep the majority of the TD away from his subordinates. But one of them - a brave, foolish soul who had seen an enemy approaching Jiyan's back - had tried to intervene.

Jiyan didn't notice until he'd heard the choked cry behind his back. But when he'd turned back and saw them crumple, eyes blank...he lost his head a bit.

The next thing he was aware of, the TD were gone, and his subordinates were staring at him with a mix of awe and fear. His Tacet Mark was throbbing, and he was dimly aware of the way his entire body shook with an energy he needed to contain.

"Go back to camp." He'd ordered, all of them scrambling at the chance to return to camp, to rest and try to forget the image of Jiyan's rampage that he was sure was imprinted in their eyes. And Jiyan...had stayed in the valley, channeling the excess energy thrumming under his skin into killing even the smallest TD that crossed his path.

Now he was trudging back to his tent - exhausted, heart-sore, and numb. But upon entering his tent, he stilled, eyes immediately locking onto yours sitting on the edge of his bed.

"...Hey.." Jiyan greeted politely, his voice tired but courteous. "What brings you to my quarters?"

"I heard about what happened." you said, your tone was sad yet filled with understanding. Despite your gloomy demeanor, you were keenly aware of the struggles Jiyan faced each day and the toll it was taking on him. Although you had known each other since childhood, the word "best friend" was never explicitly mentioned between the two of you. However, the undeniable bond you shared spoke volumes beyond mere words. Both of you grew up side by side, chasing dreams together. After graduating from the Military Academy a decade ago, you rarely had the chance to see each other, unless under special circumstances.

As Jiyan ascended to the role of General, leading thousands of soldiers under his command, you became the Secretary Of Justice in Huang Long. You administer the government's criminal justice system by investigating crimes, prosecuting offenders and overseeing the correctional system. A position you earned through your undeniable intellect.

Upon noticing your melancholic behavior, Jiyan immediately sensed that something was amiss. He has always known you as a cheerful and carefree woman, who maintains an optimistic outlook on everything. It was unusual for him to see you behaving so strangely, as if you were miserable. However, Jiyan refrained from pressing you for details, knowing that your poorly-lit behavior may be related to your job, Jiyan acknowledged that the workings within the Department of Justice are private matters that he needs to respect.

"It was our first casualty this year, and I- I'm not sure I handled it well..." His voice was heavy, as he slowly came to sit in front ofyou. He could feel his chest tightening, and he looked away. "I don't know if I'm fit to lead them. Losing a soldier under my watch, I felt... I felt like..." He shook his head.

You could see through every barrier, every lie he tried to bury himself within. He didn't try to hide it from you. He brought his hands up, his broad-fingered hands gripping his own Tacet Mark. He closed his eyes, "All I did was wield them as weapons." His breathing sped up, and Jiyan slowly opened his eyes. "I want to do better...for them, for the Rangers..For Huang Long.." His body ached all over, and he welcomed the touch of another's hand on him, a touch that was not healing but comforting. Jiyan needed it, now more than ever.

"Jiyan." you said, gently placing your hand above his. Your previously unhappy demeanor had faded. "The first rule of leadership is to save yourself for the big decision. Don't let your mind get cluttered. I know you're always doing your best for Huang Long. Whatever you do, don't lose yourself in the process. I hope you would care enough for yourself to know that you deserve to receive as much as you give." Your gentle smile reassured Jiyan, conveying a sense of comfort and hope with just that simple gesture.

Jiyan inhaled sharply, closing his eyes, and leaned forward, his forehead resting against your shoulders. His breathing seemed to steady, his heart slowing, and he whispered, "Thank you, Y/N..."

He wasn't sure how long it took for him to feel the world slowly coming back into focus. But when Jiyan finally pulled back, he was a bit steadier, eyebrow furrowing as he glanced at the map that was folded on his table.

"I know we should call it a day, but...Tacet Discord activity is off the charts...I need to at least examine the map, make sure the strategic points are still secured..." He admitted. "And that we have enough reserve forces to rotate out. My mind won't rest until it's done, and besides..." Jiyan frowned, "I have to appear in control, or else the rest of the Rangers will lose heart. And I need to, I need to manage, I can't-" He stopped, fingers tightening around his hilt. "Just...give me a moment, and then I promise that I'll rest." He didn't want to overwork himself, but it was their lives at stake. He couldn't afford to let them down.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" you asked. Having previously been a member of the Military Defense Team under General Geshu Lin's command, your expertise and experience were invaluable.

Jiyan opened the map and spread it flat on the table. He took in the details, lips pursed in thought, as he mentally compared the map with the TD activity the Resonators had reported. It was a never-ending task, protecting the borders of Huang Long. Jiyan turned back to you, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You could give me your unbiased opinion, like always. Keep me from potentially running myself into the ground."

"You can look over my records, reports, and see if there's any new information on the Tacet Discord's movements, that'd help a lot." He gestured towards the papers on the table. "I don't trust every piece of information at face value. A second set of eyes can't hurt. With that, Jiyan returned to his map, eyes scanning the depiction of Jinzhou and its surroundings. His fingers continued to lightly trace lines in the map, considering different strategies to deal with the outbreaks. Jiyan's carefully constructed calm shattered for a moment when he noticed a freshly marked TD hotspot. "Damn..." He muttered, going back to the reports. Your presence, however, did help, and Jiyan's eyes flickered over to you. He wasn't sure if you would pick up on it, but Jiyan couldn't help the relief of having someone else to share the burden with.

"General. It's important that we pinpoint these areas, especially since the City Guards are stretched too thin as it is." You suggested as you attentively observed the placement of the TD marks on the area. As both of you  analyzed the map, Jiyan found himself relaxing a bit more. He'd always admired your sharp mind, and while you spoke, he found himself absentmindedly staring at you. "So, General, what do you think about my plan?" you abruptly asked, shifting your gaze towards him, which snapped him out of his trance.. Jiyan's cheeks warmed in embarrassment and he hastily looked away. He glanced back at the map, a frown creasing his features. "That's a solid plan. We need to move the Rearguard into sectors with the highest Tacet Discords. Some soldiers seems to have reported multiple sightings of TD moving in a particular formation, I want to explore that." Jiyan's voice trailed off in thought as he watched your expressions. "Though it'll be chaotic, but we can make a dent into some of these hotspots...There are some reinforcements camped out a bit south-east. I'll have to consider rotating these additional soldiers in...and perhaps get some fresh supplies to the current Rangers." Jiyan stretched his arms, eyes squinting a bit. "Once we do that, and the replacements are settled in, I think I'll be able to relax." It was said lightly, but Jiyan was acutely aware of how heavy his eyelids were. He glanced back at you, his eyes softened appreciatively. "Your input has helped ease the weight. I'm grateful for it, truly."

"Ha! Admit it, I'm better than you." you teased with a smirk, your arms crossed over your chest as you chuckled.

"Not a chance." The General replied with a light laugh, shaking his head in disagreement.

Jiyan stood, stretching his back to alleviate some of the muscle pains that had settled after his recent battle. He'd need the sleep, but he grabbed a small box from his desk, rummaged through it, drawing a tea bag to the table. "Tea?"

"Absolutely." You replied with a warm smile.

And the rest of the night was filled with conversations that brought smiles to your faces.

[2 hours later...]

"Thank you, General. I had fun!" With midnight approaching, you knew that Jiyan needed to rest.

"Hey, would you mind if I visit you in Jinzhou the day after tomorrow?" Jiyan inquired, hoping for you to say yes. It had been a while since he had a normal conversation with you, and he honestly missed those times when he could just be himself. Not as a soldier, not as a general, but simply as Jiyan.

"Of course." You both value and respect each other's work schedules. You and Jiyan acknowledged that both of you couldn't spend as much time together as you used to when you were younger.

"Anyway, I should head off. It's getting late, and you can't hide that tired look of yours anymore." you chuckled, pinching the General's cheek. "Hey, cut it out!" he playfully pushed your hand away, feeling a twinge of embarrassment that you still teased him like the short and shy boy he once was.

In return, Jiyan tousled your hair as he wrapped his arm around your neck, restraining your movements.

"Alright! Alright! You win!" you surrendered, dropping your arms in defeat. Jiyan was now too tall for you to reach. "What's that?" Jiyan teased. He seldom heard you admit defeat, so hearing you say this was like music to his ears. You couldn't help but just roll your eyes at him as you freed yourself from his arm.

"Would you like me to accompany you back to Jinzhou?" He was concerned about you returning late at night with only a few soldiers escorting you.

"No need. I can take care of myself." you replied confidently. There was no need for you to prove yourself, as you were also known for mastering the element of fusion and handling it like a crazy maniac. However, at times, your overconfidence can lead to distractions, which is one of your downfalls.

"Oy, you keep forgetting the huge gap in our strength. You can't rely on going into a rampage to defend yourself. It's not the best approach." Jiyan remarked, aware of your occasional recklessness.

"Whatever you say, General." you sighed, rising from your seat. "Stubborn as always." Jiyan mumbled quietly as he escorted you out of his quarters.

"Goodnight, General." you bid farewell as you closed the door behind you. "Until then, Madam Secretary." Jiyan headed back to his bed, the slow exhaustion catching up with him. His armor had been stripped to reveal his elegantly toned body, sleek and unfaltering. He'd need to rest, he'd need to heal, just a bit more. He started to undress, shelving his armor. Jiyan laid down, the weight of the day finally catching up with him, and the soft snores filled the room sometime later. He was finally drowning in the comforting embrace of unconsciousness.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

End Of Chapter 1 🥀...

Who would you choose in a world where love and duty collided, and where the heart's desires clashed with the demands of fate? The unspoken love of Jiyan, who has known you since childhood, or the fiery passion that Calcharo harbors for you, despite the shadows of his past?

[lord-squiggletits]

Pausing my nap to say that Nova Prime is a little bitch who died begging for his life and was a really underwhelming villain for how ~big~ his return was supposed to be. At least Galvatron managed to be actually cool, funny, and unique. Nova was just a little bitch that lost a one-on-one fist fight with Optimus. I would throw him in the horse plinko/send him to superhell but he's too pathetic for even that.

[getodrools]

jjk men having wet dreams about you and waking up needy and pants soaked…….. thank you for listening to my ted talk 🌚🌚

໒꒰ྀ ྀིᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ yes and yes. omfggg the big men of jjk being so whiney and needy >> such a good combooo

★ ┆ NOCTURNAL EMISSIONS .ᐟ ── JJK VARIOUS ‧

FT ‧ gojo, getō, nanami, toji, sukuna, choso

⟣ WARNINGS ‧ MDNI | f! reader | pwp, dub con, somnophilia, dry humping, lots of messes ( winkwonk ) from vv needy men, dirty taaalk, warnings will be noted and will vary on each character. ᡣ 𐭩 | WC ‧ 1.4k + |

͙͘͡★ SATORU GOJO!

somno, dry humping, fingering, mind fuck ( ?? ) !

Gojo’s eyes are snapped wide. Simply, laying silent and annoyed – tight-lipped and motionless, yet his wet cock is the only thing moving… agonizingly too… Feeling himself twinge between stiff legs ‘till it itched; each panging throb forced his meaty log to rub right up against the mess oozing through thin fabric.

“Fuck…” Gojo was more than annoyed watching how you peacefully drift off beside him, unbothered and probably coveting in the sweetest of dreams… A silent ponder hoping some were of him, just how his every thought was of you. Well, Clearly. The sappy mess globbed up in his pants was an apparent sign even his dreams clutter of just you, to which, Gojo could no longer stay silent about…

“Dreamin' baby?… Bet you are…” Shimmying himself close, the gentle press he rolls with smeared the gluey muck across your bare skin, “Any about me?… I’d hope,” Voice so smooth you swear you could hear your boyfriend echoing in your cute little head, “Just had one of you… i was fucking that pretty pussy…” Like sand falling, he whispers gently at the shell of your ear, taking a nip before, “Mmh… just like this…” Gojo’s hand slips right between the sweet heat of your legs.

“Ah… mmpf–” You twitch. Your brows too, knitting together into a deep parabola. Was this a dream still? A sudden naughty turn from baking with friends sure was a jump! — Ah! But that pinch twisting at your pearled hood felt all too real…

Gojo worked quick. Cooing across naked flesh soothed you back – even soothing the tight bundle of nerves throbbing at his persistence worked well too, “You were wet just like this baby…” The pads of his fingers mush between your slit, gently scrissoring folds open to catch at those lewd webs, “Better be dreaming of me fucking you… so fuckin’ wet…” Gojo hooks a digit in.

“… To… Toru…?” Bedhead sluggish with sleepy eyes drooped, all you could feel was Gojo pressing flush against your ass harder than usual — was there a wet spot too? Each roll he shoved against you worsened the damp spot; all seeping with warm cum and more pre to bleed through your clothes… And was there a damn finger popped in your pussy?!

“Hehe…” That mischievous and annoying giggle hucked right into your neck, “Look who's having a wet dream now, naughty girl…” Needy bastard.

͙͘͡★ SUGURU GETŌ!

somno, oral sex ( f –> m ), cum shot !

The rather poignant moans slipping out from between Getō's lips woke you up. And the obvious tent building in your boyfriend's briefs was standing proudly from strong hips; an obelisk of flesh that jutted out as far as a forearm was a clear indication he was hungry even in deep thoughts...

Bored and damper with a small smile, you listen to how this eruption was caused by you, "Y/n... baby... More..." Tenderly cuddling up to his side to watch his ache – to watch the little twinges in his features spark... Suguru was so cute when he'd have naughty fantasies... Watching how his length jerked around in confines; forcing tight cloth wrapping his capped tip to suffocate. To further damp in wet seed, 'till the dark spot bubbled out with more ropes of cum.

"Fuck–mmh–Please... Need you... fuck..."

Your measly hand dipping between bodies seemed to have drawn out those very feeble dreams he was crying out for to beyond... Especially the second you popped his cock out; he was drenched – sweat and cum were glistening along his length.

Suguru twisted around, unconsciously sucking in his lower lip at the tease, "Yes... mmh..." Clammy skin throbbed under your touch... The wrist-thick girth you twist at oozed, just begging for attention.

Heeding to his needs, you squeeze yourself between his splayed legs; settling to wrap pretty lips around Suguru's crown. And like a suction, you swallow him up; impaling yourself with his slab of cock meat 'till it punched at the fluttering length of your barriers. Blocking the entirety of your windpipe with ease, but too determined to fill his dreams with more fantasies, you gurgle him whole…

Perhaps the sloppy sounds coming from your mouth did little to dissuade him awake, but the tight lip you ring around his midsection forced his face to scrunch in, "Ohmyfuck... baby, yes..." He was close — again!

Salty in white thickness, the slobber you bubble out forced another geyser of hot cum to shoot.

Balls tightening and clenching up to empty across your tongue, Getō gasps, "Baby?! Fuck!" Hips jerking upwards, either surprised to see his pretty girl working his hard cock, or the overstimulation catching him by his throat.

Either or, he was damn grateful to have such an attentive girlfriend, "Holy shit... Babe--" Getō stutters, but the faint smile hanging by a thread was all he could muster up peering down at your muck-covered, pretty face...

͙͘͡★ KENTO NANAMI!

marriage, mentions of pregnancy, cock warming !

Sensitive skin chafing along his briefs, the sap pearling out was sticky. Damnnit. Again?

It's happened three times this week on your honeymoon already, and it's becoming agonizing… He always tried to ignore the way he'd moan and twist himself awake, but it was extra hard dismissing the wet patch soiling his third pair of briefs… It made him feel like a hormonal teen – embarrassing for a grown, now wedded man, but he couldn't help it! You're so beautiful and everything he yearns for – you're just cooped up in his every damn thought!

“Honey…” Nanami sighs.

The soft pads gliding across the curvature of your back form a parabola to arch in chills. You wind your hips, “Mhm?… Oh…” You recognize that sticky patch soiled low in his pants. Memorizing the way how he'd shimmy so close ‘till he could stuff his face into the nook of your neck before humming.

“Mrs. Nanami… My lovely wife…” Gentle voice feathering across the shell of your ear, Kento was gentle, besides the small pinch at your side to make you giggle, “Want to have a lazy morning?”

⊹ ࣪ ˖

“Then you found out you were pregnant.” As those words cooed out, his cock throbs deep inside gummy walls, and your heart does too, “Those are your wet dreams?” You giggle into the pillow, but the soft hump rolling against doughy globes robs that very breath.

“Mhm… Well, I think so? I fucked you full, so I assumed you'd be round and full with my kids…” The tender thrust bucking up into you signifies what he's been craving these past few nights – inner thoughts swirling with the idea of you being packed like a snow cone!

“Oh…” You gulp as Nanami pulls you closer by the hips, nudging in ‘till he was balls deep. It was like putting his dick to sleep in a pillow.

Sinking in every thick, turgid inch of cock meat into spongy walls that snap and suck him in, you could feel your husband worm right up to your womb. Thumping to invade soft barriers – he was stuffing you to the hilt purposely, as if he was trying to fuck the same thought into you…

Nanami hums, “What? Don't you want some one day? Or do you just like being stuffed?” Either or…

͙͘͡★ TOJI FUSHIGURO!

somno, cunnilingus, squirting, he's grouchy!

“Make me a mess…” Toji is irritated, this is a damn work night and he's woken up with drawls sticking to the fat of his thighs, again. Breaking those sweet sweet eight hours of sleep – if any, all of it was swept away with filthy thoughts of you…

Grumbling between the sweet heat of your legs, “I’ll make you a mess.” The assassin speared a wet muscle up and between your folds; flicking at your hood ‘till it puffed out… “Let’s see how you like it…” With a forceful shove, his lips mashed into those soft pillows.

Your head mashed into pillows yourself, unaware of the man feasting below your waist. Only aware— barely aware of those flitted blissful dreams…Which now, all warp into filthy scenes of sweating bodies humping and rolling together… His tongue was working as one of a spring bouncing into place; romping in and out so deep, he was fucking with your imagination...

His mouth suckled over the fine features of you lewdly, nestling the fat into the crook of his nose to ground his lips into lush flesh further. Smooshing folds down to nip at, Toji smirks, watching you swerve in sheets just how he was.

“Oh!— Fuck?!” Your eyes snap back wide, were you cumming? Peering down, “Toji?!” And gasping with wailing hands reaching for the shaggy strands sticking out beneath sheets, you were on the brink.

Still leaden, your were too late to pop off that suction forcing you to topple over... The unexpected clench twisting inside you made your eyes bug out. A sudden breathlessness rose to your throat – all the air in your body was forced out in one huge rush, just like the geyser spewing out from between your legs.

Pussy leaking, the man hiding under sheets peeked up, “Annoying huh?” Shaken and mottled with chills, no. Not… really? Though, the sheets and the entirety of his mouth were soaked, so were a couple of clothes, that was the only peeving thing about this… but it is laundry day anyway…

͙͘͡★ RYŌMEN SUKUNA!

cum eating, blow job-ish, he's also vv grouchy !

"Wake up." One of his strong arms sling over your shoulder, "Brat. Wake up." And it twists at the skin trying to nuzzle under the blankets.. Sukuna sighs, heavily, "You have a mess to clean up. Wake up right now." The rough nudge at your body was more than enough to wake you...

Humming, you whirl around only to get a crotch-level shot of your husband! Blinking, he clearly scooted his damn butt all the way up to the headboard, making sure you'd see the very mess he was complaining about soon as you roused. —And the still pounding cock that jutted in embarrassing need. That thick, meaty pole standing rock hard shaded into a deep red, the cum-soaked skin so flushed, he couldn't stop twitching... oh he was aching...

"Clean me." Sukuna waves a hand around. Subtly pointing at the gooey puddle pooling at his tummy, and it was a lot. Thick too, cooling ropes of midst cum stuck to his barred skin like a busted open bottle of glue.

"Sukuna... It looks like you made this mess—”

"No. You did. You keep sticking yourself in my head. It's annoying waking up like this." . . .

Sighing, "It's O.K to say you were dreamin' of me, again..." He hisses at that remark, but your cooling tongue flicking out simmered his temper...

Nectarous lotion and salt lathered over your lips as your hand dragged a long, languid tease across his shaft, "You're so moody when you're needy." Sukuna went to bite at those words, but feeling you vacuum up the globs of cum forced him to gnaw at his lip instead.

Sukuna's cum strung in your mouth as if you were flossing with it; running thickly down your throat, you slurp his tatted tummy clean. The thick blobs felt like gum rolling around in your mouth, trying to drink him up 'till the only slime trailing and glistening across skin was your messy spit.

"Good girl... Don't forget my cock now.." Milking the rest of his hot load with tight lips, you gurgle down his seed like a smoothie.

Suckling at the King's crown, Sukuna eventually deemed himself clean once you finally kitten-licked all the way down to his fist-sized baby makers... Sparkling new!

͙͘͡★ CHOSO KAMO!

he's a mess, dry humping, he whimpers ofc !

Twisting and turning, Choso was shamelessly humping at the sheets, again. It was almost the AM, but those sweaty limbs linking with yours kept forcing you awake...

"Choso..." You whine, but no louder than the one wafting straight into your back. Choso nestled beneath the covers and sunk himself further down the bed than usual; cramming himself against your spine to hump at the plush of your thighs 'till another bubble of cum oozed out his rubbery tip.

This was the third load he's cried out, so far! It's like a never-ending dream of fucking you raw when your around... He just couldn't stop thinking of you no matter how hard he tried! Even the agonizing nights when he slept on the couch, he'd fuck himself straight into the pillows – hearing whines of your name echoing from down the hall kept you up those times!

Choso's hips keep rutting like a damn dogs, feet kept kicking, and cock still throbbing knowing you were around, no matter what...

The longer he rolled his hips into yours, Choso's mess went tacky. It began to string out in fine lines through the sheer gaps in his confines; almost frothing like icing the longer he kept at it, unknowingly soaking your lower half too.

You couldn't stay sore with him, especially when his droopy eyes fluttered open. He looks so embarrassed out of his mind as he looks up at you like a bad puppy, realizing the mess he's created, he feels like an animal... Shame.

Whines turning into frantic rambles, "I'm sorry... l don't know what get a hold of me... Please..." And the soft whimpers following each syllable soften your gaze.

You peck at his swollen lips. Still too sensitive, Choso winces, and his hips jolt forward.

The wet center of his crotch nudges with yours; poking the hard blanketed tip right between the sweet heat of your legs. All you could feel was runny sap dampening your shorts, almost cooling as it soaked through to your panties, even feeling the moisture cling against your bundle of nerves.

"It's ok baby... I love you too." Nuzzling your nose into his, Choso was on the brink of groping cloud nine, again...

<– BACK: PINNED ⊹ ࣪ ˖ NEXT: JJK MASTERLIST –>

[anxiousbabybird]

Love and Deepspace men x fem!reader slightly unhinged and NSFW HCs, PART 2!

Once again, minors do not interact! I made you guys a part 2 of my current thoughts. No plot or card spoilers in my comments or reblogs, please and thank you 💙

Part 1

Rafayel

Have you met this man? He wants to know where you’re at and who you’re with at all times. So jealous. It’s probably in your best interest to forget other men exist once you’re dating him

Convinced you to suck his dick while he’s painting to see if it helps convey emotion into his painting—he accidentally pushed the paintbrush through the canvas when he came

Loves when you ride him—it’s so cute watching you bounce on him and use his body for your own pleasure. This also allows him to sit back a little and enjoy every sound you make, every facial expression, every feeling. Of course he does eventually get bored and flips you onto your back for his turn

Before you’re dating, he persuades you into being a nude model for him. He takes his time caressing your skin and telling you he has to “feel” the art, lets his hands wander and linger as he moves your body little by little until you’re in the exact position he wanted. Spends hours staring at your naked body, pretending to draw it (he finished his sketch hours ago but he doesn’t want you getting dressed yet)

Kinks/fetishes: biting, marking, breeding, spit, primal, spanking, mirror sex, praise, wax, shibari, choking, exhibitionism

Loves a pussy job—just sliding his cock between your folds and tapping at your clit like he’s knocking on a door until he cums all over you. Loves this for two reasons: 1) you look exquisite with your clit swollen and body spattered in cum, and 2) the banter between the two of you during a pussy job is top tier. It’s not quite degradation, but you’re both going back and forth in the most teasing way, riling each other up.

Has the biggest praise kink. He thinks he might actually die if you don’t tell him how amazing he is at least 12 times a day

Part of the pretty dick club. It’s actually perfect—thick but not too thick, long but not too long, nice veins wrapping around and well groomed at the base. Some would say it’s perfect.

Xavier

Sometimes when he’s flustered by you, his body emits a soft glow because of his evol. You notice it for the first time when you surprise him with a kiss to his cheek. He glows a little brighter the first time he kisses your lips too.

He’s fallen asleep during sex before. Usually after several rounds, he’s cum twice already, and you’re laying on your sides on the bed and he’s lazily thrusting into you from behind and all of a sudden he stops. Sheathed inside you and an arm around your waist. When you look over your shoulder, he’s sounds asleep and already softly snoring. You have no choice but to do the same, falling asleep in his arms and keeping his cock nice and warm all night

His favorite position is missionary where your legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s slowly, deeply thrusting into you. He likes seeing every expression on your face, really feeling you sucking him in, hearing every breathy moan you try to hide from him. And he likes that he can kiss you whenever he wants

Likes to read at night, even though he falls asleep doing it. When you start staying nights at his place, he convinces you to read out loud to him and you do that every night until he falls asleep with his head on your chest.

Kinks/fetishes: hair pulling (he likes when you give a little tug), overstimulation, marking, cum play, face sitting, cockwarming

Loves fresh flowers and brings you new ones every week. He thinks they’re pretty and hopes you appreciate them the way he does. Sometimes he buys them or sometimes he picks them from some lush patch in the forest. Always takes some for himself so he knows when they start dying and he needs to get you new ones.

Loves to lay his head in your lap so you can play with his hair

The kind of guy who will keep his hand holding yours no matter what because he wants to make sure you’re staying beside him. Sometimes takes one of your hands and puts it in the pocket of his sweatshirt with his just so it stays warm.

Zayne

He was very opposed to fucking in the hospital at first but then on a day he was super stressed, you stopped by and sucked him off under his desk while he reviewed charts and he was able to successfully perform a surgery other doctors thought was inoperable—he was more lenient on sex in the hospital after that

Kinks/fetishes: size kink, spanking, brat taming, choking, degradative praise, impact (spanking/flogging/paddle), breeding, edging/denial, thigh riding, dirty talk

Has absolutely bent you over his knee to spank you when you’re being a brat and talking back to him all the time with no regard for your own well being. All he wants is to take care of you because you never take care of yourself. And he would take the best care of you.

Cunt smacks. No further explanation needed.

Favorite sex position is prone bone. He likes hitting it from the back because sometimes the prolonged eye contact that can come with facing each other makes him uncomfortable. But doggy style isn’t what he wants because he wants to feel your body against his, holds you as close as possible. This position works best because every inch of him is atop you and he can feel your body there beneath him, he gets to tuck his head into your neck to bite or kiss or moan into, he’s close to your ear and can whisper filthy things or tell you how close he is or how good you feel around him, and most of all, this position has him so fucking deep inside you that he swore nothing in this life felt better the first time he entered you in this way

Allergic to saying nice things to you 98% of the time.

He runs cold because of his evol and sometimes when he cums, it feels like ice inside of you. Made you scream in surprise the first time but leads to some fun temperature play where he uses his tongue to warm you up after. He’s also often cold and loves to curl up against you and tell you that you’re his heater.

#ThickDickClub

@luffysprincess @seraphofthesimps @adaurielle

[spacelazarwolf]

apparently a bunch of ppl on social media are trying to call for a boycott of rick riordan because of this statement in a blog post:

Becky and I are just back from a busy weekend with events at the Boston Book Festival and New York Comic-Con.

Before I get into that, however, some words to acknowledge the ongoing horrors in Israel and Gaza. As many of you may know, I am no longer on social media. My accounts post only updates on my books and related projects. I do not read posts, reply to posts, or share my thoughts about world events on those forums. That doesn’t mean I don’t have strong feelings and reactions. It means I am offline as completely as possible, except for the occasional blog post like this one.

I will say this: Over the last eighteen years, I have received many fan letters from young readers, both Israeli and Palestinian, who often told me that my books helped them escape the fear, grief and anxiety they were dealing with at the time. Some had lost family members to violence. Some were writing while in the distance they could hear explosions, gunfire, and the launching of rockets. They used my books as a way to escape into another world, where the monsters were fictional, and where demigods usually saved the day. While I am always glad that my books can help young readers find joy during difficult times, my heart breaks every time I hear about the things they have to deal with. I am grief-stricken by the horrific events now unfolding, especially because I know that they are part of a long historic pattern that has been robbing too many children of their childhood and perpetuating hatred for far too long.

I am also quite aware that when anyone, myself included, tries to speak about this issue, the reader is waiting to pounce, thinking, “Yes, but whose side are you on?” That is exactly the wrong question. If there are two sides to this issue, those sides are not Palestinian/Israeli or Muslim/Jewish. The two sides are humanitarian and dehumanizing. Dehumanizing has a long evil history. It is appealing and easy to buy into, because humans are tribal animals. We are hardwired to think in terms of ‘us’ versus ‘them.’ We are the real humans, the good guys, the ones with God on our side. Those other people are evil monsters who don’t deserve empathy. Hate mongers have thrived on dehumanizing for as long as there have been humans. It provides them with a purpose, a way to rally support, power, and scapegoats. It is easy to point to atrocities committed by our enemies, while justifying or minimizing the atrocities committed by ourselves or our allies.

Humanitarianism is a much harder sell. It requires us to empathize, to see other groups of people as equally deserving of dignity and quality of life. It requires not always putting ourselves and our needs first. But in the long run, humanitarianism is our only hope. If violence could end violence, if we could put an end to “those other people” once and for all, human history would read very differently than it does.

So yes, I am appalled by the Hamas attacks on Israeli civilians. I am appalled by the suffering of Palestinian civilians in Gaza. Both things can be true. Both things must be true. My thoughts are with all the people who have died, who have lost loved ones, who have had their worlds and their lives shattered, especially the children. More death and violence will not break this cycle, which has been going on for generations. There is no military solution. Even since I first wrote the post, only twenty-four hours ago, the Israeli government’s brutal retaliation against the entire population of Gaza has reached genocidal proportions. This is not only an atrocity. It is folly. Answering misery with misery only creates more fertile ground for extremism, dehumanizing the “other side,” letting hate mongers thrive, stay in power, and reduce us all to our most monstrous impulses. The only real solution is treating each other like equally worthy human beings, and negotiating a peace that allows all parties a chance to live in security and dignity, with hopes for a future that does not include bombs and rockets and gunfire. This means security and support for Israel, yes. It also means a secure Palestine which is allowed to get the international aid and recognition it needs to build a viable state.

Do I think that will happen? Unfortunately, no. Humans are simply too selfish, too ready to blame “the other” for all their problems, too ready to dehumanize, though I also believe, perhaps paradoxically, that most people just want to live their lives in peace and have a chance for their children to have a brighter future. The problem is when we don’t allow other people to have those same hopes and dreams — when it becomes a false choice of us versus them.

What can I do? I will continue to write books that I hope will give young readers some joy. I will resist the urge to demonize entire groups of people. I will call for less violence, not more violence. And when asked whose side I am on, I will tell you I am on the side of humanitarianism.

So with that said, I return to the world of books . . .

honestly, if you have a problem with this statement, it’s probably because he’s talking about you. this is exactly what legitimate activists (as in not just random westerners who share social media posts but on-the-ground activists who are doing real work) have been saying for decades. and i think all this really speaks to just how disconnected a lot of westerners who claim to be pro palestinian are from those activists.

if you can’t read a statement that says “i am on the side of humanitarianism and less violence” without immediately jumping to cancel them, you are the problem being discussed in the above statement.