#i nearly choked when it said this to me lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 year

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(seven) days a week, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: It only takes seven days (a week) for Jeon Jungkook to get you in his bed to fuck you right. And showing up in weird places. And kissing in the rain. He's crazy. Okay, it's kinda complicated.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language (reader swears a lot); strangers-to-lovers; vague allusions to a loveless childhood and bad parenting (no specifics); JK might be insane and you do tell him that he is; slight crack; fluff; smut (fem reader, fucking with clothes on and off, m and f-receiving oral, light hair pulling, fingering, nipple play, choking, penetrative sex, handjob); non-idol!BTS – persistent!Jungkook x noona, def tsundere!reader lol ft instigator-cupid!Park Jimin setting them up

this directly follows Jung Kook's 'Seven' MV, so make sure to watch it (although I'm sure you've seen it if you wanna read this lmao)

monday.

“What? Something on my face?”

You stared at him and he stared back. Wide eyes, slightly parted lips, the look of caught prey and all. You had your hands in front of you, long fingers laced together, elbows on the table. You probably shouldn’t have scowled like that. That was a bit rude, especially to someone you didn’t know well, but this guy had been staring at you all night and barely speaking to you, even when prompted, so you were getting both impatient and annoyed at accepting this invitation.

“You wear… a lot of jewelry,” Jeon Jungkook said out loud, with awe.

You looked down at your hands. Well. The rings, the bracelets, even the earrings on both your ears, all sterling silver or white gold. You had even swapped out the lower lobe piercing for a pair of dangling dice earrings with grey freshwater pearls. You liked the cooler tone to bring some death to your warm-toned skin.

“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Your low voice had an edge of guarded to it.

A quick, nervous head shake. “No. No, it’s cool. I’ve never seen a girl wear so many chunky rings like that. I didn’t think I’d like it either, but then I saw you.”

You opened your mouth to snap out a comeback and then his words hit you.

There was no doubt that Jeon Jungkook was cute. Black-brown hair with a lustrous quality. Bright, expressive dark brown eyes. Slightly rounded cheeks with a distinct jawline. He said he had, and you could see, tattoos and piercings, something you quite liked but not a requirement. Built body, in the way that people where when they were committed to taking care of their physical appearance. Not so much in vanity, but in the way that matched how they felt that they should look in their head. Respect for that. But, in this chance that was what you had expected to be his, Jungkook didn’t taken it.

He looked the part.

Didn’t act it, though.

Black blazer, matching trousers. White t-shirt. Dressy but not too much. To be honest, the outer appearance didn’t matter much to you. It actually mattered the least. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Really. You were often told that you had too little patience for people, but, come on!

This conversation was awkward.

Hah.

You turned as you sensed a lively presence re-entering your icy atmosphere. Hmph. The actor playing Cupid in the instance. He looked the part too. Baby blue dress shirt with the top buttons undone. Ivory slacks, neatly pressed. Black hair perfectly curled over his forehead, framing an angelic face. Full lips forming an infectious smile that made his eyes disappear as small hands folded away the receipt and tucked his card back into his wallet.

“Ah, the waitress and I had a cute little chat,” flirty Park Jimin chuckled, giving you a little eyebrow wiggle. You rolled your eyes at him. “Did you guys have a nice talk while I was gone?”

“Um…?” Jungkook started, nearly afraid to glance at you for some support.

You gave Jimin a deadpan stare. “You trying to get her number?”

“Me? No, no!” he waved his hands, sitting back down to lean in. “She gave it to me anyway though.”

Figures Park Jimin would introduce you to a guy and also get the number of someone else in the restaurant. You deliberately hadn’t answered Jimin’s question, but he hadn’t noticed.

Jungkook, however, did.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him deflate a little and you winced in unease, not sure if you should have avoided it, but at this point the waitress had returned, lashes aflutter and gushing about how they just had to try to fried ice cream and it was on the house, as long as Jimin promised to come back, right? Right?

Jimin promised of course, of course, with a big smile.

You completely ignored him and picked up one of the pieces of fried ice cream – mango, it seemed, by the color – and placed it on one of the small plates before setting it right in front of Jungkook.

He perked up and gave you these big, hopeful eyes.

You didn’t say anything but felt your cheeks flush and your gaze shift, putting on an expression of reluctant apology. After a half second, you bowed your head just a bit, shaking off the moment and serving yourself before serving Jimin.

What?

Damn flirt didn’t even notice.

tuesday.

“You didn’t like him?”

“I mean, there’s nothing to like or dislike. He barely said anything. Also, Jimin, I told you, I’m not really a relationship person,” you sighed into your phone, walking quickly to the train station. “I don’t want to give this guy the wrong idea about me. He didn’t really strike me as a fuck-around-and-find-out kinda guy.”

“You said you would change your mind for the right person though.”

Sometimes you thought Jimin argued with you just to argue.

“Yeah, and I don’t even know what kind of person he is because he didn’t say shit,” you barked back to that snippy tone on the other side of the line. Some idiot honked at you and you resisted the urge to flip him the bird. Maybe he wasn’t honking at you. The hanging out the window and catcalling could be to the couple walking next to you.

You highly doubted it.

Also, maybe you just wanted to give someone the middle finger because you couldn’t show Jimin right now how much you deeply appreciated him.

“Jungkookie’s just super shy, but wait a minute and he’ll make you his.”

You rolled your eyes. Damn bad habit that you were forming ever since you became friendly with this mildly infuriating angel. “He’s not making me do anything.”

“I’m telling you; he suits you perfectly. You’re being stubborn and not giving him a chance. Anyway, I gave him your number, so don’t worry!”

“Wait, you did wha–”

The roar of the subway train below cut you off.

“Oop, you’re at the station. You’re breaking up! Can’t hear you, byeeeeeee!”

You twitched as Park Jimin hung up on you.

Asshole.

You pulled your phone away from your ear and pulled up the app to pay for your ticket. Paused for a second. New message, unknown number. Then it was your turn, so you hovered your phone screen, heard the beep, and hurried to the correct train line, finding the one to take you home. It was hectic even now, still within the dregs of rush hour, so you didn’t even think to check for the content of the text until you sat down with a big sigh, somewhat of a fwump with your distressed bomber jacket and baggy cargo pants, both made of thick black fabric. The side of your jacket slid off, exposing your bare shoulder and tight white tank top.

The guy standing about a meter away from you snuck a glance in your direction.

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and yanked your jacket back in place with the hand that was holding your phone. Noticed the screen flash, reminding you of the notification.

Fuck it.

Pressed your thumb and your phone unlocked.

Hey, it’s me. Jeon Jungkook… I wanted to say that I’m sorry about not talking that much last night. I was really nervous because you were so pretty and self-assured. I was so impressed that nothing I could think of seemed like a good thing to say, so I blanked out. I’m very sorry. I hope it is okay for me to text you like this.

An essay.

You paused for so long that you felt your cheeks heat.

The fuck?

You frowned at yourself. For some reason, even though he hadn’t talked much, you could hear the text in your head as if Jungkook was speaking to you directly. Sense the anxiousness in the typed words. See those big eyes gazing right at you with a mixture of curiosity and wonder and what-ifs. You sighed, feeling defeated. It would simply be rude to not reply.

I apologize for being too intimidating.

You sent it before thinking. Aw, shit. That was a bit short, wasn’t it? Damnnit. You saw the sending quadlet of dots spinning slowly, struggling due to you being underground. Fuck. If you sent another message now, it might be out of order and that would just get confusing. And what else could you add? Oh, geez, you didn’t even confirm it was you. The conversation with Park Jimin must have scrambled your egg brains.

The train roared out of the tunnel.

All of a sudden, the message sent and a reply instantly popped up. Actually, a serious of bubbles, rapid-fire like bullets. The confirmation must have lagged.

You’re not intimidating at all! Well… not in a bad way. In a sexy way. I mean, in a good way! In a cool way, like you’re not afraid to say what you wanna say. I really admire that in a person, so I really admire that in you. Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it? I made things weird… ㅠ.ㅠ

You blinked slowly at the messages. It was pretty clear Jungkook had sat there and pondered over the first message for quite a while and these subsequent ones were stream of consciousness spewing. Honestly, kind of funny. Heh. You could sort of imagine it. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to respond right away. Hm, you wondered if he had hoped you would. He really was trying hard, huh. For what? What was the reason?

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and responded anyway.

Oh, you’re definitely weird, but you never know. I might like that. What’s the outfit of the day, Jeon Jungkook?

Were you fishing for a photo? Of course. He would probably scramble to put on a good outfit to impress you. To your surprise, the downloading image icon popped up instantaneously, spinning, spinning. You tilted your head, surprised at the prompt obedience. He must have snapped a pic right away when you asked. It was taking time to load though. You saw some people getting off the train and looked up, checking the stop. Oh, yours was next.

You took care not to look directly at anyone around you, keeping your sling bag in your lap.

Then you looked down to the inquisitive dark brown eyes of Jeon Jungkook with messy black hair and a black leather jacket. White t-shirt. It was a selfie, so you couldn’t see the pants. It was something borderline vain about the angle, but also a seek of approval in that parted mouth, silver ring and stud dotting the edge of the right side, flash of white teeth and slight bite of the left side revealing a small mole at the center underneath his lower lip.

You twitched.

Bold, wasn’t he?

You weren’t sure if you liked it – well, you didn’t mind it, you just weren’t sure if you like-liked it, what was he trying to play at here, trying to get your heart to beat fast or something, hmph – and you clutched your phone pointedly, your rings clacking as you prepped your fingers to type back… something, be honest here… and your fingers wavered.

Shaking a little.

You let out a breath you hadn’t known you had been holding.

Oh, the pants are blue jeans, but I’m out right now so there’s no mirror to show you.

You heard your stop being called and stood up automatically, filing behind other people getting ready to step off, the train slowing down, everything slowing down, finding yourself staring at Jungkook’s expression in the photo, why were you staring, shifting your eyes quickly, then back, it wasn’t like Jeon Jungkook could see you, ugh, this was so annoying.

Do you want to see? I can take another photo when I get home.

You let out a frustrated exhale that no one else around you could understand. Maybe not even those closest to you would get it. But you knew what it meant, and knowing also frustrated you.

Being self-aware was a bitch.

You finally sent your answer.

I much prefer this look on you than the blazer. Is this your normal fashion style?

You had worn a flowing white blouse and floaty black skirt the night before at dinner, but it was not your typical style. Well, it was, but it was one of your work outfits since you had come straight from the office. Something you wore to not get in trouble with the dress code and knowing you would have to meet up with people later. Sometimes you were a little riskier if you were feeling frisky, but Jimin had told you to look nice for the friend he was introducing you to.

But maybe it would have been better to look more you.

Then again, the restaurant was pretty high end. They might not have let you in.

Oh. Yeah. Hahaha, I wore the blazer because Jimin-ssi told me to look nice for you. I guess this is street-style? I don’t know… I’m not fashionable, I only wear what I think is cool or comfy. What about you?

You strode out of the train and briskly walked to the elevator, muscle memory already knowing where to go, typing back. Pausing when you saw the vending machine. A green tea would be nice right now.

You veered off course and headed to stand in line.

I think my friends would describe my style as dark and strong. They’re always telling me I should dress more feminine or at least in less black, but one of my core traits is not listening to shit people say. And swearing.

You tapped your card and made your selection. Waited out the whirr and clunk. Didn’t pay much attention to the world around you. It was a typical day, people passing by, no warning feelings. And, besides, your phone was much more interesting right now.

You did not just think that.

You scowled at your reflection in the glass of the vending machine before picking up your drink.

I hope I get to see you sometime soon so I can appreciate it. :)

You raised an eyebrow at your phone as you ticked open the can and started walking again, taking a crisp sip. It was slightly irritating that he was better at flirting over text than in person. Or maybe it had just been the circumstance. Come to think of it, it would have been weird if he did with Jimin right there, although you were sure Jimin wanted to be there to witness whatever unfolded. The awkwardness was probably just as entertaining to him as it would be if Jungkook had been more forward.

Hmph.

What was more irritating was that you weren’t instantly annoyed by it.

Hmmmmph.

Are you saying you aren’t intimidated by me, Jeon Jungkook?

You hurried home, following the streetlights, breathless, not because you were running, but because you wanted to be home so you could be alone with…

I’m saying I like feeling your effect on me in person.

Him.

wednesday.

The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook, you were groaning and setting your forehead on the edge of washing machine, screaming internally. Would have banged it against the metal if you weren’t going to lose a substantial number of brain cells. You were going to pay cash because you wouldn’t get that card surcharge if you did but, of course, of course you had accidentally shorted yourself and pocketed the wrong amount.

Fuck!

Now you were already at the laundromat. Walk back home and lug your shit to and back to get the right amount? Or just forget it and pay the extra charge? You had already put the detergent in. Fuckity fuck fuck. Technically you could go home, it wasn’t that far, but, ugh, it was extra annoying today because you had slept late and now you were grumpily doing your life responsibilities. Come back a different day? No, you had specifically told yourself to get off your ass and get that pile washed. Damnnit, if you hadn’t slept late and scrambled your egg brains, this wouldn’t have happened!

But you had been talking to Jeon Jungkook.

Ending the conversation had been more difficult than you expected. You gritted your teeth, feeling stupid for pulling such a teenage move. Still young, huh? Young and stupid.

Grr.

You heard the metal slide of the money drawer being closed and then an approval ping!

You jumped back, freaked out at the thing you hadn’t done, and then snapped your head to the sudden presence next to you. Dark blue jeans with giant holes at the knees. Gray hoodie sliding off a built right shoulder. White ribbed tank top. Messy black hair. A piercing, no, two on the right side of open lips.

Big, round, dark brown eyes.

You noticed he was wearing a few silver rings himself.

“Um… hi? I noticed you were short a little so I just…” Jeon Jungkook trailed off, giving you a hopeful look.

You gawked at him.

“What are you doing here?”

Ouch. A little too snappy. Jungkook faltered, those peepers shifting. “Ah… well…”

You bit your tongue and reeled it back. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you, is all. Obviously, you came here to wash your clothes like everyone else.”

He reached up and scratched the back of his head nervously. Wait. Why was he looking at you like that?

“W-Well, actually… Jimin-ssi told me you normally come here on Wednesdays to do laundry and I was nearby so I figured., maybe, I’d just check if you were here…”

You stared at him.

“You’re stalking me?”

“N-No!” Jungkook sputtered, waving his hands frantically even though you hadn’t raised your voice.

There was a bristle to your tone though. Indignation and frigidity you couldn’t hide. You frowned, narrowing your eyes, cornering him with your gaze. There were only a few people on this slow day, which was why you picked Wednesday to do laundry, but all the patrons had AirPods or other earbuds in, busying themselves with their shoving of clothing in and out of the washers and dryers. No one was going to interrupt anyway.

Not their business.

“I… I…”

“And how did you recognize me anyway? My head was down,” you remembered, advancing on him, and Jungkook took a step back, swallowing hard. Your outfit was baggy too, dark denim jacket and jeans, the tight black tank hidden by the bulk.

“I couldn’t forget how beautiful your hair is,” he mumbled out quickly, looking a little too mesmerized by your fierceness. Forget that. “And your hands were on the edge of the washer. Your rings. The star chain bracelet you wear. I…”

He was fixated on your collarbones and the thin black choker around your neck.

Or lower.

“Oi! My face is up here,” you hissed, snaping your fingers and making him jerk his head. He had stopped backing up though. You pointed at him, somewhat rudely. Actually, very rudely, but whatever. “What do you mean, check if I was here? And who told you? That idiot. I’ll kill him.”

And why was Jungkook looking at you like that?

Like he thought you were hot when angry.

He better stop that shit because you were losing your irate demeanor for some fuckin’ reason.

“I texted you almost all night. That wasn’t enough?” you half-growled, half whispered.

A tiny head shake.

Ah, shit.

You deliberately did not think that was cute.

“I liked it so much that I…” Oh no, oh no, not that honest tremble and deep gaze into your eyes. “I was hoping I could talk to you again, in person, more bravely this time.”

You opened your mouth to sink in that verbal bite and nothing came out.

The entire laundromat could flood right now and you wouldn’t even notice because you were staring at Jeon Jungkook and wondering if this audacity was freaking annoying or freaking impressive. Not this damn guy within two days leaving you speechless. Well… actually, no, never mind the technicalities.

“Are you even thinking before you do things?” you grumbled, not yet backing down.

Jungkook stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets suddenly. Hm? Nervous and shaking? You couldn’t tell, but you watched him closely, observing his body language, your eyes following those lines.

“Mmmm…” He bit the left side of his lower lip. “No?”

You strongly resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

Shy smile greeting you, accompanying the lip bite.

“I’m just listening to my heart.”

Now you visibly cringed. “Don’t say stuff like that.” Looking away slightly, somehow unable to meet those honest eyes.

“Why? You don’t like it?” Genuinely curious.

“You don’t mean it.” He did mean it and you could see that he meant it but you did not want to admit that you knew that he meant it. Yeah. “You barely know me. We only talked over text.”

“But you gave me thoughtful, frank answers. I don’t believe that you were being dishonest,” Jungkook protested, following you over to the tables a few steps away from the washing machines. You dragged your laundry bag with you and kept your voice down.

“I told you, I’m a straightforward an honest person. I won’t lie to you. And I won’t hesitate to cut you off if you lie to me,” you reminded him.

He nodded. You wanted to shake him and yell at him to stop giving you those eyes. “So I just decided to do what I wanted to.”

You cocked your head at him in disbelief. “You didn’t think you went too far?”

What was with that mischievous smile? “I’m the all-in type.”

You let out a puff of air.

“Also, you haven’t told me directly that you don’t like it,” Jungkook pointed out, leaning toward you, smiling.

You gave him a deadpan stare. “You don’t get me,” you said back flatly.

Those dark brown orbs sparkled. “That’s okay. I don’t have to get you to think you’re cool, clever, and stunning.”

Your eyebrow twitched.

“And why do you say that? Because you see how people look at me? Because you enjoyed my useless facts and tangents last night? Because you think with your dick?” You added the last question with bite, leaning forward too, having enough of this, not really him but…

The fact that you didn’t want to tell him to fuck right off.

Silence.

Jungkook was staring into your eyes.

“The shape of your eyes is so… perfect.”

You felt your ears heat.

He raised a finger and traced the air right in front of your left eye, the scent of his clean cologne drifting in your direction. “The way they sharpen in the inner corner, like a bird of prey… And your irises are so dark and striking…”

You grabbed his finger out of the air.

“Don’t be… weird.”

Why did you pause? Hello? No way you’re being like this over this guy right now.

You pointedly pulled his hand down, pinning it to the table. “Pay attention.”

Jungkook was giving you this dreamy, hazy expression. “Huh? What were you saying?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You can’t even listen.”

He leaned in closer and you caught a whiff of that delicious cologne again. “Sorry. I will. Say it again, please. I’ll listen carefully.”

The fuck were you saying again? The lights of the old laundromat flickered but you barely noticed. A common occurrence in these ol’ mom-and-pop places. And, besides, you were staring at this determined, patient smile and mentally shoving down those butterflies that you definitely weren’t feeling, nope, violently compacting those distracting internalizations into a tiny, windowless box.

“You don’t seem very good at listening,” you finally said, tight and even.

“I am,” he insisted softly. “I promise.”

“I’m too much for you.”

Or was Jungkook too much for you?

“I’m offering all of me,” he whispered to the shared air between you and him. “It might not be enough so I’ll be to work hard and do my best.”

What was he so earnest for? You hesitated, the edges to your hard demeanor softening. You didn’t want to trust stuff like this. It was so easy to get burned and you wanted to be the one to do the burning. And how could you trust people? Even you didn’t say everything out loud. Some things you could say and some you couldn’t say. It was too much trouble to believe in someone.

You had never received unburdened kindness when you were younger.

“We’re not on the same page.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “Aren’t we? But you’re reading me easily and I’m doing my best to learn about you too.”

Your shoulders released the tension. “Don’t pretend with me. It’s clear you’re a relationship kind of guy. And, while I’m not against them, I can’t deliver the same kind of devotion you are willing to give. Can’t you see that?” You removed your hand from his, not realizing it was still there.

His fingertip traced a line on the back of your hand.

Sparks raced along the base of your head.

You remained stern, feeling heavy and hot in your clothes.

“Why do you say that? You don’t think you’re loyal?” he asked very sincerely.

Your eyes narrowed. “Of course, I am. If I like you in that way and you asked me to bury a body, I’d already be digging the grave. But I’m not a flowers-and-chocolate kind of girl. That’s not how I show affection.”

You had no idea how far your clothes were in the cycle. The whole world could crash down and you would still be staring at Jungkook and his body language. His shoulders slouched a little more so he could look up at you with those pleading eyes.

Inhale still in your throat.

“Then, do you not like me?”

Say something.

But you didn’t say anything at all, gazing down at Jeon Jungkook and wondering why you couldn’t get through his thick skull that you were a bad decision. Honestly? Honestly, fine, it was because you grew up with parents that never liked each other nor their kids. Honestly, it was because you grew up too fast and with too much independence to not see the filthiness of the world. Honestly, it was because you saw the finicky innate nature of humanity of never devoting themselves to anything, much less anyone, and why would they?

People were crazy.

Call it personal experience.

You sighed.

“Jungkook, I’m not gonna lie to you. I fuck before I care about anybody. I’m only living to get my pleasure and not take care of anyone, okay? I’m barely keeping my own head together. I’m blunt. I don’t need or want romantic gestures. I just want dick. There. I’m not a good person.”

He was smiling.

Aw, shit.

“I must be favored to know you.”

You twitched, tucking your tongue in your cheek to avoid scowling, which was pretty much scowling anyway, so you failed spectacularly.

“Also, you haven’t said you don’t like me,” Jungkook pointed out. Infuriatingly. “Because it’s not true and you don’t lie. Right?” He said your name with a little too much sweetness and knowing.

You yanked your hand out of his and shoved his hard, muscular chest. He bounced back, grinning a little too happily. You told yourself to hate it and you didn’t. Fuck. “What are you even still doing here? Gonna fold my clothes for me or something?”

The energy at being offered a household chore was disturbing. “Oh! I can! I’m very good at doing laundry. And washing dishes. And cleaning. I like doing that stuff.”

“Sure, you do,” you puffed sarcastically,

“I do,” Jungkook insisted, coming around the table. “And I’m good at it.”

You scrutinized him up a down. “Yeah? Because you don’t know where else to put all that energy of yours?”

His lips parted but all he did was gawk at you. Oop. Right on the money. You were liking this expression a little too much. Maybe it was time to lower these walls a bit. After all, it didn’t seem like Jungkook was going to go away any time soon. He was pretty harmless anyway.

“I could drain you in a night,” you chuckled, smirking.

The tips of his ears were getting red at your lowered tone.

“You think you could keep up?”

thursday.

Ugh, it was one of those days that fuckin’ suuuucked.

Woke up late and had to rush to get dressed and bounce, then got to work and some shit was going down about missing documents and people moving papers they shouldn’t have, forcing you to play manager because everyone else had no goddamn spine to fix anything. This department would be a disaster without you. To top it all off, you had people stalling, keeping an irrelevant conversation going, leading you on a wild goose chase with no funny honking – turns out the documents were in some random copier right behind you, for fuck’s sake – and you had a very strong inkling it was because of what you looked like.

Which was fine.

Unless you were actually trying to do your job.

Then, one of your side dishes you had brought for lunch had gone off, so you ended up slightly less full than you wanted to be, and you forgot your jacket at work, leaving it hanging on the back of your chair in your rush to leave, and the train halted several stations before your stop because there was some emergency maintenance or some shit.

Fuckity fuck.

It wouldn’t be so annoying it if wasn’t so windy, but it was and you were wearing a sheer sweater with splashes of jewel-toned colors and a longline black sports bra under it – you had worn your jacket half-zipped until your boss had left in the middle of the day and your co-workers didn’t care how you looked, the dress code was stupid anyway – and black jeans, mid-rise. The rules were more about being covered up rather than being professionally dressed.

The job was primarily sitting at a desk and sorting documents, did it matter how you looked?

Or maybe you just broke the rules a little because you were a rebel.

Your stomach growled angrily and you told it to shut the fuck up.

You stood on the corner halfway between work and home, debating on whether or not to do some damage. The problem was you didn’t have any of the usual bad habits most people had. You didn’t drink, so getting stupid drunk and getting thrown out of the noraebang was out of the question. Also, you couldn’t sing. But, anyway, you barely took medicine, let alone know where or how to procure the illegal fun stuff, so that was also out. You didn’t have a sweet tooth either so you couldn’t down a whole cake with gusto, although that sounded like a great way to go.

You sulked.

You had an addiction, but you just stared at the names in your phone and felt guilty. Guilty! For what? For some guy you met literally less than four days ago? Ugh, no, this couldn’t be you right now. Seriously? Seriously? You crossed and stalked up the block, not yet deciding what to do so you kept walking until you figured it out during this internal battle. You had to keep this guy at a distance. Okay, yes, you could admit you liked him.

And that was the problem.

If you didn’t really like him, you could just fuck him and establish those hard boundaries. No issue. You had been in love before but that was a long time ago and ultimately you ended it because it wasn’t right and you weren’t good enough to be devoted to.

You breathed out hard, the unease spilling out of your insides.

It was definitely easier to not expect anything from anyone. You had spent a lot of life not having and, ultimately, not needing to rely on others, both out of necessity and simply having too much to work on by yourself. Years of fighting off bitterness that you had always tasted, years of letting go of important moments realizing that supposedly important people in your life would never be there for them, years of lashing out and becoming the shadow of the abuse you endured. Eye for an eye and all that. Keep the cycle going, until you had that moment in the eye of the storm to get hit by lightning and realize that this wasn’t right.

It wasn’t any particular thing.

Just finally accepting the creeping self-awareness that you had been miserable and were making other people miserable on purpose because you tore them open and took their hearts to find yours.

Metaphorically, duh.

So now you sort of did this martyr shit of being there for people when you could and not asking for anything back. Especially not a relationship. Intimate to heal a heart and then give it away, which totally worked if they weren’t into you, just into what you could do.

You didn’t really feel it yourself but you did get sex out of it.

Bad addiction, yeah.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket.

You ignored it.

Stepped into a chicken place and stood in line, feeling the weight of your world on your shoulders. You brain tried to reason with you that it was Jeon Jungkook’s own fault if he got hurt. He was the one who chose to spend all that time sitting at the laundromat with you talking about random shit. Your favorite video game – Persona 5, excelling in your top three most important things about a video game: music score, gameplay, and art style. Your favorite American rapper – Ludacris and the way he could rhyme the weirdest words. Your favorite movie genre – surrealist psychedelic drug movies, which earned you a confused head tilt. You had asked Jungkook what he liked. Mood lamps. Singing. Watching cooking videos on YouTube.

Had asked him if he believed in soulmates.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you ordered at the kiosk and paid.

You don’t think I could have met you in another life?

You stood with the other waiting patrons, ignoring everybody and your phone thrumming against your hip, thinking about last night.

I probably broke your heart.

Thinking about that smile with two piercings and a lip mole. That smile didn’t trust your answer at all.

Maybe the universe is giving me another chance to make up for my past mistakes. I can’t give up.

You made a face at past Jungkook’s answer, too taken aback all those hours ago to scowl properly. Maybe you had been too tired. Too worn down by his earnest nonsense to fight it properly at that moment. Your hand hovered over you hip, wondering if you should check it. Then dropped.

What, did you need to see him every day or something?

Your name was called and you stepped up to receive your order.

Oh, fuck, you miss him.

You yanked your phone out of your pocket and stared at it as you walked out of the restaurant, only to get plopped by a fat raindrop on the lit-up screen. You looked up to the gray sky and let out a hiss.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

You turned around and sat down, grumbling as rain poured down and you replied to Jungkook’s texts.

Stupid.

Not him. Just you.

friday.

“What are you trying so hard for?” you snapped.

“Why aren’t you trying hard enough?” Jeon Jungkook shot back.

It was going really well.

Clearly.

You let out a hiss and flicked your hands as if you were trying to physically get rid of his reply. Argh, this… man! The thundering rain was pouring down, down, and you were both standing under a bus stop with no intention of taking the bus. You bit back the volume of your sudden anger. There was no need to yell anyway. No one was coming out in the thick of this monsoon.

Only you and crazy-ass Jeon Jungkook.

Switched tactics. "And what makes you think your virgin ass–"

"I'm not a virgin!"

"You are here!"

And you jammed two fingers into that very muscular chest, right next to the left side of his sternum. Too fast to be stopped. The shove actually made him stumble. Or maybe it was the utter shock of the verbal and physical double jab combined with the deep growl that your voice had suddenly become. His racer jacket and black hair were slick with rain. Half of his white t-shirt soaked. Even the front of his blue jeans drenched.

You panted hard after your outburst, the anger draining away all in a flash of lightning.

Jungkook stared at you with stricken eyes.

The rain pelted down, down, beating into the silence.

“How did you know?” he breathed out.

You didn’t but somehow you did, feeling something inside of you break. Not afraid of the world. Never, never again. No, afraid of what you could do, afraid of breaking something this pure, because you broke your first love too and that past guilt still lingered. Not that you thought Jungkook loved you. He couldn’t This was only the fifth day of him knowing you.

The fuck is going on?

“I see your type all the time,” you sighed, your damp hair all over your face. “Looking for light in black holes instead of stars.” The rain had slipped off your black leather jacket. Your cropped band shirt wasn’t wet, but your black cargo pants were sodden knees down.

This coldness, however, didn’t come from the rain.

“You really should stop. For your own good.”

You looked away from him, feeling as if your own words had pierced bullet holes into your walls. Dark sky, never-ending rain, cars struggling to drive, people running with umbrellas and ponchos, arms huddled close to their bodies, and here you were just standing here in the rain, the world acting out your mind. How nice. You thought you had come to terms with everything, but obviously not. Somehow once you saw Jungkook again, once you felt his presence again, the pull was even stronger and the storm was even more intense and the worst part was that you didn’t want to leave.

You heard Jungkook’s soft, silvery voice through the gray rain.

“Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?”

You turned your head to look into those pleading brown eyes.

Lightning shot across the sky.

Thunder followed seconds after, eating up the night.

“W… What?”

He shook his head, dripping water.

“You haven’t hurt me. You don’t mean to, either.”

That smile, his hand extended, the inked snake on his wrist showing.

You stared at Jeon Jungkook with droplets beading on your skin but those goosebumps weren’t from the weather. Jerked your head away. What is with this gentleness? How could he know anything? He couldn’t know anything. He was just an airhead who watched too many dramas and made others believe that they could be real.

“Noona?”

You whipped your head to Jungkook, shocked at his use of the honorific. He only used it when Jimin was at the meal. Afterwards, the conversations had been clearly directed at you. Not completely informal speech, but sometimes you slipped and he did too. You never corrected him because, well.

You slapped his hand away.

Nothing was going to happen.

You closed the distance and grabbed his head, pressing your lips to his shaking ones.

It was going to be terrible. Cold. Wet. Acidic from the lingering feelings. There was no way that this kiss could be anything else with this setting.

This was real life.

Not a story.

Your hands cupped his cheeks and you sunk into his kiss. The hard edge of his jewelry and the softness of his breath, caught by your mouth, your eyes already screwed shut, nothing to do but feel, feel the way he instantly pressed back and set his hands on your elbows, pulling you closer, shuddering as your forearms pressed to his chest. A weird feeling, like two fires melting together, prickling racing across your skin, no, deeper, past your ribs and into your heart.

The storm raged on.

You snapped out of the kiss, nose to nose, water trickling in places it shouldn’t, over your eyelashes and down your neck, feeling fingers graze across your elbows. Slipping under the leather. Droplets soaking into your shirt and then warm hands lingering at the curve of your exposed waist.

Tracing your lines.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

And you kissed Jeon Jungkook again.

saturday.

No, you didn’t take him home. You’re reckless, yeah.

But you knew how that would go.

Not that Jungkook didn’t try. Maybe you would have done it, if you weren’t the equivalent of wet cat and equally torrenting emotions. His hands around your waist, pulling you closer, heat blossoming between layers of rain-drenched clothing, kiss after kiss, your hands in his hair, tangling those dark waves into wilderness, getting more and more breathless, heady with a feeling you knew but didn’t want to believe in.

For someone who hated lying, you sure enjoyed lying to yourself.

You had reasons.

How could this time be different if it was just following the same trajectory that you always followed?

You had to pry yourself from him, lips tingling, tongue curling, feeling your blood course through your veins and your heartbeat as loud as thunder, opening your eyes to his blissed-out expression, his own eyes still closed, pressing his lips together to savor your taste.

Damn.

You had wanted to tell him to stop it, stop it with all this falling, you were being dragged down by his vibe, clothes feeling heavy, desperate to be stripped away, but you kept your hands along the sides of his head, your exhale escaping but giving you away like a bad con artist.

Those shimmering dark eyes had opened, following Jungkook’s smile.

“You’re a great kisser, noona.”

His hands stayed on your waist, drumming his fingertips on your skin, tangible kisses creating invisible but no less real electricity.

You scoffed, corner of your lips rising.

“Shut up.”

Tendrils of his black-brown hair clung to his forehead. The rain drummed but it had lessened a bit. You had looked back to his eyes, defeated.

“Shut up so I don’t miss you more.”

One last, drawn-out kiss, tongue to tongue and you had broken from him, warning him sternly.

“Don’t follow me.”

Ran all the way home, face burning, not even feeling the rain even though it was still falling.

Now, present time, you sat at this boring farewell party in some fancy hotel with the sun blaring outside. Figures the nice weather would come out when you would have to stuff yourself in a fitted blazer dress and pretend to care about your boss’s boss retiring. Black, of course. For the formal occasion. Sadly, no one was dying except this old coot’s career.

Maybe you were a little salty that you couldn’t retire yet.

You looked down at your phone, which was on silent, noticing you had a new message.

ㅎ.ㅎ

O… Okay. Whatever that face was supposed to mean. You didn’t even bother to answer. Couldn’t, anyway, forced to plaster on a mildly interested expression as your boss gave a speech that you zoned out of. There were multiple large circular tables in the hotel ballroom. Outside the ballroom was an outdoor area with the buffet. Everyone had served themselves before sitting down, but, first, a few words.

A few was turning out to be too many and your salmon was getting cold.

Employees had been allowed to bring plus ones. Wives and husbands. There were a few empty seats, and a few significant others popped in mid-speech, trying to be quiet and politely bowing in apology. Of course, they weren’t required to be on time, having other obligations and such.

You twitched.

Was that why this was dragging on? So everyone could eat at once? For fuck’s sake, who cared if they were late. Then you noticed your boss’s wife stepping in, looking pretty and put-together in a forest green high-necked dress, holding the small hand of a kid in a lopsided children’s tuxedo with an equally confused expression.

Oh.

Come on.

You suddenly felt a disturbance in the Force.

“Excuse me. Sorry, sorry.”

You whipped your head around to see Jeon Jungkook in a black pinstripe suit cha-cha sliding in the empty chair next to you, picking up your black velvet purse and holding it out to you with a grin that made his large, dark brown eyes light up.

You gawked at him.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” He added your name politely and with affection, smooth as butter, criminal undercover. Even the honorific, oh, shit.

The blood drained out of your face and you tried not to think about how your co-workers sitting at the table were staring at you and him like you both had three heads. Of course, no one was supposed to be talking, so no one asked questions yet, but that was definitely going to start the second your boss was finished with his sentence.

You took your purse without another word and glared at Jungkook with such fire that you hoped he burned alive at the spot. Oh, this could turn into a murder and a funeral real fucking fast. All he did was give you those shining big peepers that made you want to strangle him. In an unsexy way.

For now.

You leaned over as the clapping started. He caught on and delicately leaned over, offering his ear to your lips.

“The fuck are you doing?”

Jungkook turned his head so only you could hear his whisper.

“I was nearby, so I figured…?”

You stared at him, plumb slack-jawed at this audacity.

He closed the distance and gently kissed your cheek. You ticked your head almost robotically, piercing eyes following his playful ones, and now you wondered if Jeon Jungkook was truly not right in the head or perfect for you.

Well.

You weren’t right in the head either.

You did text him earlier this morning that you needed to come to this party at this hotel to send off this important retiree. If you missed this, then it would have reflected poorly on you, especially when you wanted to keep your job, so, yes, it was part of the reason why you had not attempted to convince Jungkook to sleep over – not that he needed any convincing whatsoever – and the other reason was to get enough sleep so you could tolerate socializing. Did you think Jungkook was gonna finesse his way into the seat next to you? Hell no. Did you think he was gonna dress smartly and with his black hair parted neatly in the center, fuckin’ black tie pressed and collar pinned? Fuck, no.

Did you think you would like it?

No!

“How did you get them to let you in?” you hissed under your breath.

Jungkook was clapping like a seal because everyone else was. A champagne bottle was being popped. He looked systematically impressed and awed. Amazing acting. “I just said I was with you.” Glanced at you and grinned, the silver piercings on his lip gleaming. A hoop and a stud. “Aren’t I, noona?”

The urge to growl at him to shut the fuck up was silenced by your brain reminding you to be safe-for-work.

You felt a poke at your sleeve. Your co-worker sitting at your left, bleach-blond and with the curiosity of a child. Full of sudden comments and questions too, just like a kid.

“Oh, oh! You never mentioned anything about a boyfriend!” Because you didn’t have one until right now, apparently. “So handsome!” Yes, he was. You had taste. “How did you meet?” Circumstances beyond your control.

“Through a… friend.”

That was a very generous word for instigator Park Jimin.

Jungkook poked his head past you and waved. “Hi! Nice to meet you.” He was using you as a shield to avoid directly interacting with these people he didn’t know. Just chiming in with polite nods as you introduced him to the table and sitting back to let you have this uninvited spotlight that was burning you like the sun did to vampires.

Pretty close, in all honesty.

“Aw, what a sweet guy. It’s nice to meet you too. I didn’t think your type was so young and cute.”

You almost made a face of distaste. “You thought my type was old and ugly?” Oop, there goes your sharp tongue.

“Nooo.” You tried not to flinch at the playful slap of your arm. “More mature, maybe? But this is better. You don’t have to be so serious. Look at his smile! I bet that’s what drew you in.”

You glanced at Jungkook and he appropriately smiled big at the right time. Somehow, he had obtained a plate of steak. How, you didn’t care. You narrowed your eyes just a sliver. Jungkook did not stop smiling but there was at least an iota of fear in those big brown eyes. Speaking of vampire, maybe you should suck the life out of him because he was being too fuckin’ much.

“Well, he was persistent to put it lightly. Might as well give him the chance to win me over.”

Jungkook beamed like a billion-kilowatt lightbulb. Or a crystal chandelier. It depended if you wanted to say the light came from his white teeth or sparkling eyeballs.

Fuckity fuck.

You wanted to rub your temples but refrained.

You would never recover from this.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asked you later.

Oh, now he wondered if you’re mad. You didn’t even look at him, dragging him away from the crowd by the elbow. Hopefully you had stayed long enough but there had been so many of the same questions that you were either getting dizzy or murderous. Hm. Why not both?

“I’m not mad at you,” you muttered.

“You kinda sound mad.”

“I’m not mad but I’m gonna get mad if you keep saying I am,” you warned. “Don’t start a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“A what?”

“Where did you park?”

His voice became small even though he was right next to you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

The sun was blaring down on the open parking lot, it was annoyingly humid, you were socially drained, and this, not this. You spun abruptly, too much crashing down too fast, flinging Jungkook’s arm from you.

“No,” you hissed out. “No. Don’t you dare take it back. You wanna be crazy and drive me crazy, fine, do it, keep doing it, don’t stop, but own up. I’ve got enough push-and-pull jammed into my head and I don’t need you adding to it.”

It was so easy to simply give in to the rising anger, but you found yourself locked into Jungkook’s wide, taken-back eyes, drowning in them, deeper than the ocean, seeing how rueful he was.

“Don’t do that to me,” you sighed.

At least your voice didn’t crack. You didn’t want to be angry anyway.

You raised your hand to cup his cheek but paused, not knowing anymore what was what. Always been so sure until the world started getting flipped upside down by Jeon Jungkook. You always knew all of the things to do to make someone interested, all the things to say to make them swoon, and now you didn’t know anything at all because this guy showed up and jumped right in, not even caring about the damages, the fine print, or the past that lingered.

Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?

Jungkook leaned forward and completed the curve of his cheek into your hollow palm, now looking at you eye-to-eye with a curious expression.

The corner of your lips curved upwards.

You leaned forward, saying your next words very seriously.

“You. Are. Crazy.”

sunday.

You sat against the window, waiting for the document to print out.

No one was in the office. You had rolled over here out of sheer boredom, looking up at the gray-blue sky and watching shafts of sunlight phase in and out. Overtime to prepare documents for Monday. You hadn’t bothered to follow dress code, but there was a breeze today, so you wore brown plaid trousers and an old vintage t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. The faded album cover of Papa Roach’s Infest. Your oversized black leather jacket was on the back of your office chair once again.

You spun in your chair, the print job long done.

Thought back on the week.

Day one, awkward dinner and the start of a rollercoaster.

Day two, clutching your phone and waiting for replies due to the spotty service of the subway.

Day three, washing machines and dryers and long conversations.

Day four, shitty day with a nice ending to more texts. Better service too.

Day five, cold rain and warm lips.

Day six, surprise! You have a boyfriend and everybody knows!

You got up and wandered to the copier. Stacked everything up and clipped the right parts together, setting it on your boss’s desk. Glanced at the time at your computer. The blank screensaver abruptly appeared, showing you your blurred reflection.

Your fingertips lingered on your chest, the soft, worn fabric of the shirt reminding you of night after tumultuous night of the past. Time that made you, you. Scars you made by holding on too tightly to pain others gave you. The thought of scars in others that you started and they held on to. Repenting, in a way, healing the hearts that came in your path with intimacy and the passion you were afraid to show Jeon Jungkook because what if, what if…

What if it actually matched well?

“You,” Park Jimin had said to you months ago, “You need someone who thinks of you as their whole world.”

“I don’t want that.”

“You don’t want it. But you need it.”

You didn’t have Park-Jimin-being-right on this year’s bingo card, fuck.

You clocked out and collected your stuff, turning off the lights as you left the office, black boots the only solid sound around you, pulling out your phone to check the address one more time.

“Why are you wearing clothes?” you asked accusingly.

“Um…?”

You gripped the sides of the denim jacket and yanked it off his shoulders, pinning Jeon Jungkook’s arms to his sides. He immediately yelped but you silenced him by stepping through the door and pulling him to you by the button placket, tracing the edge of his open lips with your tongue.

“W-Wait, noona, the d-door…”

“I don’t care.”

Kissed him, deeply.

That now familiar scent, closer, slipping your tongue between his lips, succumbing to the flutters. In, out, feeling him collapse under you and moan in his throat, hard body stumbling into yours, hand haphazardly smacking the edge of the door.

It closed behind you.

You rolled your body into his, closer than close with too many layers in between, tangling his arms in his own jacket, swallowing his gasp and feeling him wiggle determinedly to free his hands and then they were on your face, strong fingers fanning out over your jaw, his jacket falling to the floor, hungrily following your tongue and lips with his own.

Something addicting about the addition of metal to those soft mouth.

This was your forte, the ability to make fantasies come true, and you took it seriously, throwing your bag onto the table by the door and shedding the protective layer of leather. Pressed chest to chest, holding his head and tracing his lips, slow fucking them, running your fingertips over the curve of his ears and making him shiver, noting the three hoops along his left ear.

Pressed your hands down his chest, over the smooth ribbed white tank molding to his muscular torso, down, down, kissing past his lips, to that mole underneath, down his chin, his head tipping back, your name drifting above your head as you kissed down his neck, the sharp clean scent of his cologne getting stronger.

“I thought… we were… o-oh, g-going out…”

“I’m gonna fuck you,” you breathed into his collarbones, hot and low, nicking his skin with your teeth and making him shiver. “Right now. Tonight. Maybe tomorrow too.” Undid the button of his jeans with some effort, yanking him towards you again and molding your hips to his, thighs to hard thighs, and that stiffness wasn’t only a sturdy zipper. “Tuesday as well. Fuck it.”

“The whole week,” Jungkook gasped as you unzipped his charcoal jeans.

“Yeah, good, you’re keeping up,” you murmured and grabbed his head again, catching a fistful of his black hair, kissing him hard with your other palm pressed to his hardness. Your tongue tracing the edge of his lips, breathing into his mouth and swallowing Jungkook’s wanton moan, intoxicated by the moment.

You pulled back just to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor.

It took longer for it to float down than for you to get on your knees.

“Woah…!”

Hooked your fingers on the elastic waistband of his Calvin Kleins and tugged them down, exhaling over that thick length that popped out. He smelled clean, like he had just showered, and you half-smiled, approving, closing the distance to curl your tongue around hard taut skin.

“Ooooh… fuuuuuuuck…”

Tightly taking control, using only your tongue to scoop around his girth and flick against his balls. Kisses, licks, flutters of breath, all of it, sensation after sensation, layering on the heat, adding sweetness to the obscene, his twitching cock hitting your cheek as you pressed kisses to his balls.

“Let me show you something,” you hummed and swallowed his pride.

Jungkook gasped so loud that his hands shot up to his mouth, fingers laced over his moan, one inked arm and one tan one, tilting his head back as your lips closed around him, softly, your tongue cupping the head, caressing the underside, the slit, letting him throb against wet muscle. Pushed him up to the roof of your mouth and slowly, in and out, rubbing the base of the head against your lips every time you ascended, fanning your fingers over his crotch to hold the base and cup his balls in between your index and thumb. Steady and consistent, sucking him off with deliberate precision.

You had a lot of fancy skills to show off but, for this first time, might as well give him the stripped-down version.

Heh.

So you blew Jungkook at his front door in your bra and pants with his clothes half-on and struggling to breathe.

“A-Ah, so s-soft… and so tight… h-how…”

You didn’t speed up. Didn’t put in more force. Used your whole torso, not just your head and neck, to avoid strain, holding his hips to take him deeper but at the same pace, letting the orgasm build with his heart rate, running your thumbs over his balls, a gentle caress, closing your eyes to savor it. Hard and twitching, but you didn’t let him disturb what you had going on, extending out the minutes, saturating every second with flowing, unavoidable bliss.

What?

You could match his vibe with your kind of romance.

You heard Jungkook’s pitch hike and the muscles under your fingers all tensed up. You spared a look upwards, but he wasn’t looking at you, shoving his hands into his messy black hair, displaying his prominent triceps, and moaning to the ceiling, dragging his bangs over his eyes.

“Oh my God, I’m cumming, fuuuuck…!”

You pillowed your tongue around the head and his salty orgasm flooded your mouth, spilling out and down your throat, but you cupped what you could and coated the sensitive head, pleased to hear Jungkook’s shudder and whimper of ecstasy, gripping his hair and pulling. The close-fitted nature of his tank top left nothing to the imagination, the aftershock rippling up his chest, even his hardened nipples poking against the fabric.

You swallowed.

Jungkook moaned and his head fell back again, his eyes probably rolled back.

Gotta finish him off right.

You licked around him carefully, cleaning him off and keeping him hard.

“You…”

Cocked an eyebrow as you shifted your eyes up, his cock buried in your throat, pulsing your muscles around his length. His chin was on his chest, wayward dark curls hanging down, shaking wide eyes watching you with fascination, his shaking voice full of awe.

“You know… how porn calls it a mouth-pussy? I really thought that shit was fake and sounded stupid, but… you have a mouth-pussy.”

You blinked at him and tried not to snort out in laughter.

You just raised both eyebrows and flicked his balls with your tongue. A few seconds later, you pulled back and countered with, “Really? Mouth-pussy? That’s how you show gratitude for the best suck of your life?”

“B-But it’s true!”

You shook you head and waved a hand at him.

“Clothes. Off.”

Every hour, every minute, every second.

Full of sex.

Jungkook wasn’t lying. He wasn’t a virgin. He was a little too good at fingering to be a virgin. Well, you hadn’t had his dick yet but it was pretty obvious with the slow circles on your clit and the kissing of your collarbones. Clothes didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Most of them were left by the door. Your shoulder blades and ass touching the bed, his other hand along your back and tracing your spine as he kissed across your breasts, shyly shifting his gaze back to your face to constantly check if you were enjoying it, not quite confident that he was making your heart flutter. You smirked back at him, taking his hand and pressing his fingers to your wet slit, pushing them in yourself.

He breathed out with you, watching your face as the pleasure snaked out from your core.

Two of them, taking it slow, but you shook your head and pressed his down, your hard nipple against his lips, and he followed your lead, faster, harder, your inner walls clenching around him, sighing deeply as the pleasure flowed, soft licks and tracing tongue. You let him have it, the slower, more romantic pace, spreading your fingers over his sheets and thrusting into his hand, adding to the pleasure, and Jungkook’s eyes glittered, kissing from one nipple to another with a smile.

“Harder?”

“And faster,” you agreed, licking the air between you and him.

Hey, you weren’t a virgin either and you liked it rough.

He kissed you first, entranced by your tongue, harder, faster, your hips following his hand, entangled in this beat, and then it was back to your nipples, kissing sucking, sparks of sensuality over your skin, your hands diving into his hair. Heat. Roughness. Passion, catching your breath and your head falling back, inhaling his scent and the clean sheets, the orgasm flooding through you, delicately forming his name with your lips.

“Ah, Jungkook…”

You didn’t let it stop there though.

His hand moved to pull out and you clutched his wrist and pushed him back in, your nail catching his ring finger, collecting it too, gasping at the added fullness, and you pulled his left hand out from under your back.

Jungkook watched you curiously as your rode his right hand and turned his left, thumb down.

You fitted it around your neck and positioned it correctly, grinning devilishly at him.

He got the hint.

Slightly unsure at first but you built his confidence, comfortably laying back on his bed and spreading out your fingers, moaning softly for him, rocking your hips into his hand, climbing to the high again, stronger his time. His fingers pressed inwards and you breathed out, savoring the choking, the way time slowed down, the way the sensations heightened, your spine arching, low gasp like heavy smoke, immortalizing the moment in his memory, black pupils blown out in those beautiful dark eyes, leaning forward to run his tongue over your nipples.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, thrusting into his fingers harder.

Lids heavy, drowning in the pleasure, his tongue, his hands, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world, the tension between you and him, sweet and intense and overwhelming, just perfect, your exhale only a thin wisp now, closing your eyes and moaning to the ceiling as you came.

It was a hard, thundering pulse, much more powerful than before, your shivering pussy gripping his fingers and your hips bucking. Thighs snapping closed, whining as you felt the hardness of his tattooed forearm, your head snapping to the side the second he released you, the rushing blood knocking you down and making your nerves sing, strong flinches across your arms and torso. Gasping to catch your breath.

Wasn’t his first time choking, but maybe the first time he got really turned on by it, because Jungkook was ogling you like a three-star Michelin meal.

It was like that all night.

From the first time he entered you, one condom wrapper the start of many, biting the left side of his lip and shuddering – “H-How are you so tight…? I just f-fingered you – oooh!” – and you wrapped around him tightly, smirking a little too smugly, one arm around his neck and one leg on his shoulder. Your fingers petaled around the base of his head, cupping him in the flower of your touch. Your thigh against his hard chest still trembling from your kisses. You angled your hips and he slipped in deeper, groaning in disbelief, his brows furrowing at you.

“H-Hey!”

Your tongue pocketed in the side of your smirk and you fucked him right.

“Gah!”

Jungkook, too, fucked you right.

You lead the pace so he could bring the force of his hips. Ah, fuck, right there, like that, and you let him know, the cries tumbling out and mixing with his, rushing wave after wave pressing into you, filling you with his girth and his power. You brought the intensity, the flint to his flame, the break in his pride and Jungkook was looking down at you, shoulders flexed, jaw tight and eyes hazy, clear emotion swirling within them and you saw your own gaze fixated on him, wanting him more than you wanted the sex.

Oh.

Shit.

You gasped and dug your nails into his scalp, grasping the pillow and throwing your head back, not expecting the suddenness of your high, injected into your heartbeat and pushing all the air out of your lungs, veins ablaze with heat as your core clenched, inner walls throbbing all around him. Jungkook groaned, biting his lower lip and thrusting hard, the small mole underneath shaking just as hard as his shoulders, but he couldn’t hold back any longer, squeezing his eyes shut, muffled scream as he came, his head falling back, two tones the start of an ongoing, wanton melody.

“Holy… fuck…”

Well, more like unholy fuck but you didn’t correct him.

You kind of expected him to pull out and leave, but instead his head snapped back and he dived down, catching your lips and dripping sweat on you, making you both laugh. Kiss after kiss, all over your face, and you could barely sputter out – “Oi, you’re sweaty!” – but he didn’t care, kissing all over your cheeks and down your neck, your chest, slurping at your nipples, you narrowed your eyes at that but those playful eyes just sparkled with deviousness, trailing down, down.

Slowing.

Jungkook pressed his lips to your waist, looking up at you.

Your heart thundered against your chest and sparks danced over your skin.

Somehow at ease.

“What?”

You smiled down at him.

“I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

Your lips parted to give him a snappy comeback, yeah, well, I gotta go to work, but nothing came out.

Jungkook grinned, his whole face lighting up and dove between your legs, biting and kissing the inside of your thighs, attacking them with his menacing mouth.

“Hey! Oi! I’m sensitive, f-fuck!”

Even planting a fat wet kiss on your clit for good measure.

“Ah!”

Shoving his tongue in your pussy.

“YO!”

You gawked at his audacity, twisting away from him. Infuriatingly, he followed, scrambling for your ass.

“There was just a condom in there!”

“Ah, who cares,” said the one that clearly didn’t. “Kiss me.”

“Hell no!”

After cleaning up and pinning him down on his own bed and thoroughly scolding him, somehow you ended up making out with Jungkook and his fingers were in your pussy again. It sounded very wet and squishy down there, probably because you showed Jungkook just now much you liked kisses under your earlobe. His tongue against your skin, teeth nicking, sucking hard and making you moan and grind on his hand, pressing against his chest.

“Sit on my face,” he whispered in your ear.

Which was know you ended up grasping his headboard and his tongue between your legs, the piercing pressed against the left side of the outer lips. You kept your weight on your knees, but Jungkook grabbed your ass and tipped your hips at a different angle, your clit right on his tongue, his nose against your crotch.

“Fuuuuck, you smell so good…”

You could barely hear him but you felt him speak, gasping at the strange sensation of hot breath and swiping tongue, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive nerves. He had a much softer tongue, but there was consistency there and plenty of gusto. It helped, actually, to have his hands gripping your thighs, adding the amplifying pleasure of restraint. You rode his face, matching the movement of his tongue. One of your hands left the headboard. Trapped your nipples between your fingers and pulled at them, making Jungkook’s eyes go wide and watch eagerly, licking and sucking harder.

Layered and intricate, full of sensation and emotion, gazing down at him and smirking as the sparks turned into lightning and you soaked his face, shivering, tipping forward at the flinches of climax, swearing under your thin breath, panting, snapped tension draining you and wetly sticking to his lips, his tongue, his cheeks.

He shoved his tongue into your quivering pussy and you sucked in a breath, feeling your inner walls pulsate around his curling muscle, his low, gravelly moan filling what little air there was between his mouth and you, his satisfaction vibrating through your body and mixing with your afterglow.

You slid down his chest and kissed him again, tasting your subtle sweet-sour on his slick lips.

He wanted you to jack him off hard and fast, the fingers of your other hand splayed out over his chest, forgetting about anything else, time only a construct, your phones discarded by the door, and here, in this bed, there was only Jungkook and you, his cock pulsing in your grip, your foxy expression to his desperate one, his eyes rolling back in the intensity, biting down hard on the left side of his lip, the small mole underneath shaking in anticipation, the tendons of his neck popping out.

You raised your free hand and gently stroked his cheek with your knuckle as you punished his cock.

His lower lip popped out of his mouth and he groaned, rough and breathless.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

A hot stream of liquid dripping down the back of your hand, drenching you and him in the strong scent of sex. Thick and potent, and you leaned forward and kissed him deeply, tightly holding his jerking cock and squeezing it all out of him.

“You’re amazing,” Jungkook panted, even after getting up – once again – to attempt to clean up your collective mess.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sitting beside him. He was radiating heat. “I was never worried about that.”

“Hah… You’re… You’re crazy…”

You had obtained your phone and just now sent a message to your boss that you would be taking a sick day on Monday. You have plenty of those. “Speak for yourself.”

“I mean, you’re like… um… uh, oh! A semen demon…”

“What?”

You almost threw your phone in laughter. Actually, you couldn’t even hear Jungkook’s explanation for what the hell he meant by semen demon because you were laughing too hard, barely able to breathe. There wasn’t a normal explanation anyway – how could there be? – and you kept inelegantly snorting afterward at inappropriate times. Jungkook, for his part, seemed proud for making you laugh so much.

“You look so beautiful laughing.”

Your response was quick, immediate, and lighthearted.

“Shut up.”

He snuggled his still too warm head into the crook of your shoulder.

“Will you stay?”

You gave him a look and then showed him the sent text message on your phone. There was something special and perfect about the smile that lit up his face, clearly showing his devotion and clearly seeing yours.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

Jungkook skipped work too. Both of you ended up sleeping in.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x noona #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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fangirl-writes · 1 year

Text

Smosh, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging

Shayne Topp x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): swearing, thongs, gets kinda spicy towards the end but nothing too smutty (making out, hickeys, butt-grabbing lmao)

Notes: This was a rabbit hole I didn’t expect to go down, but here we are.

Summary: you and Shayne have been keeping your relationship on the down low for a while, but as much as you keep sharing clothes, you're just begging to be caught.

“Sooooo," Courtney said, leaning up against your desk. "Who’s shirt are you wearing?”

You choked on your coffee, quickly turning away from your laptop so you could cough it out. “What?”

She grinned. “The shirt. It’s definitely not yours, so who’s is it?”

You wiped your mouth, blushing furiously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. The shirt’s mine.”

“Oh yeah?” She said, a challenging look in her eyes that made you want to run to the nearest exit. “Why’d you buy a men’s shirt that’s too big in the shoulders and too long in the arms?”

“Uh…style?”

“Bullshit!” She exclaimed, laughing. “Come on, just tell me! Do I know him?”

“What’s going on over here?” Tommy asked, walking over to your desk with Amanda and Angela not far behind.

“Y/N’s wearing a guy’s shirt and she won’t tell me who’s it is,” Courtney explained.

You put your face in your hands. “Tell the whole team why don’t you…”

“Ooh, Y/N’s got a boyfriend,” Amanda teased with a waggle of her eyebrows.

You didn’t deny the accusation (which was true), so they egged on further.

“Where’d you guys meet?”

“When did you start having sex?”

“Do you borrow his clothes often?”

“Is he big?”

“Oh my god, you guys!” You shouted, burying your burning face into your knees. “Can we drop it?”

“Only because we have a shoot to do,” Courtney said. “When we get back I expect all the details.”

You frowned at her as the three of them retreated from your desk.

“They bothering you?”

You looked over and felt yourself relax. Shayne was standing there with a grin, hands tucked awkwardly into the front pockets of his jeans.

“Well, they seem to think I’m wearing a guy’s shirt,” you said with a small smile. “Can’t possibly know what they’re talking about.”

Shane chuckled, glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention, and kissed you on the forehead.

It had been a bit of a running joke between you for a while, but you usually managed to sneakily wear something of the other’s around the office without anyone noticing.

While Shayne’s generally had to be smaller (he’d look pretty obvious wearing one of your shirts), you had more of a selection.

You wore his denim jacket, he wore your fuzzy socks. You wore one of his snapbacks, he wore one of your bracelets. You wore his crewneck, he wore one of your necklaces. You wore his beanie, he wore your belt. You wore his flannel, he wore your sweatpants.

It had been going on for a while, but Shayne’s button-up was the one getting the attention.

“Wait ‘til they find out I’m wearing your underwear,” Shayne whispered.

You blushed. “You are not.”

Shayne grinned, walking away from you towards set.

“Shayne, you are not!” You called after him.

He just laughed.

You dropped yourself back into your chair with a huff.

You and Shayne had been seeing each other on the down low for a while, not feeling comfortable to come forward about it just yet.

It was one thing if the relationship was going strong for a while and it was someone who didn’t work on the crew, but this was still new territory and keeping it to yourselves would make it less awkward if things happened to not work out.

Plus you were pretty sure Shayne liked the rush of sneaking around; stealing kisses when a space was empty (rare), going with you to pick up coffee or props (occasionally), staggering the way you entered the building when you rode to work together (nearly always).

And you could admit that it was pretty fun sharing secret glances or dirty looks that read “I’ll get you back for that later.” But trying to lie to your friends about stuff when they asked was hard.

Still, you could deal with it for now if it meant you could keep your little secret for a bit longer.

“No way!”

You snapped out of your daze, turning from the script you’d been editing as the shouts from set grew louder.

It was a TNTL shoot so nothing unusual about the loudness but something this time drew you towards it.

Saving what you were working on, you got up and went to see what the fuss was about.

You nearly died on the spot when you recognized the hot pink thong that you usually kept tucked safely away in your drawer at your apartment sticking to Shayne’s ass.

Granted, it was mostly covered by his pants but there was still plenty showing, as it was pulled up by the sides probably as far as he could get it.

Keith was in the hot seat but everyone had come out from behind the divider to see this.

“Oh my god,” was thrown around a lot.

Shayne looked pretty proud of himself for this one, a smug look on his face.

“Where did you even get these,” Courtney asked, incredulous.

“Bought them just for this.”

Lie.

He made quick eye contact with you, and you could tell he was trying not to burst into laughter again and give you away.

They fell into the usual outro spiel so you walked back to your desk to start working again before the girls could come finish interrogating you.

Suddenly, however, you found it hard to focus on editing.

It was a Beopardy video so it should be easy for you (you’d edited a hundred of them) but you couldn’t help but notice Shayne’s outfit.

It was a normal one: white shirt, khakis, jacket. But what caught your eye was your necklace that was dangling around his neck.

It was a (first initial) necklace that you’d had for years and, as far as you knew, no one had commented on it the day he wore it.

You felt an odd mix of emotions about this subtle “claim” of him, an obvious but quiet declaration of your relationship that nobody had questioned.

At least, not yet. The video wasn’t posted yet and fans had a way of deducing things about the Smosh team’s private life that they weren’t super comfortable with (whether true or not).

“Y/N!”

You screeched as Damien slammed his hand down on your desk.

“Don’t do that!” You chided, taking off your headphones.

He and Shayne had both gathered at your desk and were smiling, which was suspicious enough.

“What’s this I hear about you wearing a guy’s shirt?” Damien asked.

Damn it, Courtney.

“It’s my shirt,” you defended, going with your original excuse.

Shayne’s grin widened slightly over Damien’s shoulder.

“Well, let’s just see then,” he said, walking over and grabbing the collar of the shirt. “Calvin Klein, nice. Your guy’s got good taste in shirts.”

You frowned and pushed him away.

“Shayne, don’t you have a shirt exactly like that?” Damien asked.

You sucked in a breath.

“Yeah, I do,” Shayne replied. “We must shop at the same stores, Y/N. Maybe I’ll run into him. Maybe I know him.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do you guys have nothing better to do than bug me?”

“As a matter of fact, we don’t.”

You groaned. “Go bug someone else, please. I’m trying to get this video done.”

“You sure?” Damien asked. “Because when I came over here it sure looked like you were enthralled with Shayne’s muscles.”

“Oh, grow up,” you said, watching as Damien scurried away before you could swat at him.

Shayne, on the other hand, not afraid of a swatting, shoved something into your palm below the desk before following Damien.

Confused, you looked down at your hand to find your pink thong in all its glory and a note from Shayne that said, ‘sorry for stealing them. Maybe you can punish me later ;)’

You blushed again and shoved them into your bag before trying to get back to work, which had become nearly impossible now.

You finally got the video done by the time everyone was wrapping up for the day, and good thing, too, because you were ready to get the hell out of there.

“Hey, you need a ride home?” Shayne asked, casually.

You usually “ubered” to work, so it wasn’t unusual for someone to offer you a ride.

It also wasn’t unusual that it was mostly Shayne.

“That’d be great,” you replied brightly.

“Ooh! See if you can pull any more information about this guy out of her,” Courtney said, hanging over Shayne’s shoulder. “We’ve already got that he’s blond, works out, and is a white man.”

“Well, damn, Courtney, that could be half the guys in California,” Shayne joked.

“I know, that’s why your mission” -she poked him in the cheek- “is to get something else out of her.”

“I’ll do my best,” Shayne said, waving Courtney off before turning back to you. “Ready?”

If anyone was paying attention, they just might’ve seen the way you looked at each other and figured you out.

But since no one was, you walked out of Smosh Headquarters after another day of fooling your friends.

“Who do you think will find out first?” You asked when Shayne started driving towards your apartment (which was a little closer than his).

He hummed thoughtfully. “Probably Courtney. She’s got this whole sleuthing thing going on about your guy.”

You hummed. “Damian’s like your best friend, though, surely he’s noticed something different.”

“He hasn’t asked but he does think I’ve been seeing somebody and I’m not ready to introduce her to my friends yet,” Shayne replied.

You nodded. “We’ll have to come clean soon, you know.”

He reached over and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it.

It was a simple gesture that he did often but it made your stomach flutter each time.

“I know.”

You rode in silence for a while, Shayne holding your hand. You guys hadn’t really discussed how you would tell everyone about your relationship but you knew the conversation was looming now that questions had been raised by your friends/coworkers.

Neither of you were ready for it just yet.

Shayne pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex and found a spot easily, which seemed to be a superpower of his.

“Shay,” you said hesitantly, squeezing his hand and stopping him before he could leave the driver’s seat. “How are we going to tell them?”

Shayne bit his lip before speaking. “How about we just… let them find out? Stop all the sneaking around and see who sees first? Then we can explain.”

“Okay,” you replied. “I think that’s a good idea.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your temple before you both got out of the car.

A memory surfaced and you brightened as you guys got into the elevator.

“You know,” you said. “There’s still a punishment in order for what you did to my poor pink thong.”

Shayne blushed but you also saw the way his eyes darkened in anticipation. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you reached over and grabbed his ass before whispering in his ear. “You’ve been a naughty boy.”

Shayne suppressed a moan and watched anxiously for the elevator to hit your floor.

You sneakily leaned over and began kissing his neck, sucking small marks into his skin. An obvious claim this time.

One of his hands landed on your waist and a sound bubbled from his throat that spurred you on.

Sure, this was an elevator with a camera, but people had done much worse things in it.

Still, you weren’t keen on punishing your boyfriend in the elevator and eagerly pulled him along when the doors opened on your floor.

Shayne’s hands wandered as you fumbled with the keys to get your apartment door open.

You would hope nobody walked by, but that was a concern far from your mind at that moment as you pushed open the door and pulled Shayne inside, only to press him up against it as it closed.

Shayne relished in your control as you held his hands above his head and slid your tongue in his mouth.

He hummed into your kiss and chased your lips when you pulled away.

"Ah, ah, ah," you said with a silly waggle of your finger. "This is a punishment, remember?"

He groaned. "I'm gonna hate this, aren't I?"

You chuckled, pulling him towards your bedroom. "Next time, ask to wear my thong, and you might get a reward."

"How soon can I take you up on that offer?"

***

“Holy shit, dude!” Damien said. “How many hickeys did this girl give you?”

Shayne was cursing under his breath.

You knew this was going to happen, and he’d fallen for it like an idiot. A horned-up, desperate-for-his-girlfriend idiot.

You knew he was supposed to shoot today, but now they were going to push those videos back because it wasn’t going to work when his neck and collarbone were covered in bruises.

“Long story,” Shayne said.

Not a lie; it definitely would be.

“Oh, come on, you can’t say this is yours!”

The boys looked over to where Courtney was hovering around your desk again this morning.

You were wearing Shayne’s shirt from yesterday, and he nearly made you both late for work when he saw you in it.

You shrugged.

“Oh, come on!” Courtney almost whined. “It doesn’t even fit you! If you didn’t want me asking about it, then why’d you wear it!”

You shrugged again.

It was driving Courtney insane.

"Hey, Y/N, did you get that footage I sent over?" Anthony asked, appearing seemingly out of nowhere at your desk.

You nodded. "Yeah, I saw it in my email this morning. I can probably get that cranked out and sent back to you by the end of the day if you need it."

"That'd be great, but no rush. Just do your thing."

He paused, face contorting as he looked you up and down.

Courtney noticed that he noticed and hurried to get Anthony in on the gossip: “I know! She’s-“

“Why are you wearing Shayne’s shirt?”

Her sentence died on her tongue and Damien’s mouth dropped open.

“Shayne’s shirt?” she squeaked.

“Yeah, he wore it in the sketch yesterday. Ian sent me a picture of the thong thing- Y/N, why are you wearing his shirt?”

Your face was on fire, and Shayne, it seemed, had stopped functioning.

You could see the pieces clicking together in Damien’s mind as he connected the hickeys to the shirt.

“No,” he said, mouth still wide open. “You guys are-“

“Shayne’s shirt??” Courtney repeated, flabbergasted.

“Um…surprise?” You said, grinning sheepishly.

“How could I have missed that?!” Courtney shouted. “It’s so obvious now! You two are always staring at each other and shit! Gah!”

You laughed awkwardly, avoiding everyone's gaze.

"And you!" Courtney said, pointing a finger at Shayne. "How could you not tell me about this! I need details right now!"

"Courtney, quiet down, you're going to let the whole office know-"

"Oh, I'm gonna tell the whole office! She's been parading around in your shirts for everyone to see!"

You put your head in your hands, regretting every decision that's brought you to now.

Well, except for dating Shayne. Because while Courtney was raving and Damien was laughing, he was looking at you to see if you were okay.

You smiled softly, giving him a small nod.

He smiled back before jumping into normal Shayne mode and ripping right back on Courtney. "You had me try and find out, too! You asked her boyfriend to find out who her boyfriend was!"

You watched them amusedly as the commotion began bringing others around to see what was unfolding.

It wasn't until he cleared his throat that you remembered Anthony was still standing there.

“So,” he said. “Was the thong yours?”

#shayne topp x reader #shayne topp imagine #smosh x reader #smosh imagine

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sytoran · 2 years

Text

𝐊𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋, 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐌.

wanda maximoff's sons have soccer practice, while she spends some time with their young and ridiculously good-looking coach in the equipment closet.

──── 🍃 pairing. milf!wanda x buff!footballcoach!reader

──── 🍃 cont. smut (18+), sub!wanda, dom!reader, reader is gender-neutral but has a penis, shameless smut, blowjobs, thirsting, you are weak in the knees and the heart for milfy!wanda, possesiveness

──── 🍃 note. saw lizzie's oscar look and got this whole idea lmao. i am swimming in requests but here this is anyways. sue me lol.

masterlist / AO3 / join the taglist

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

every saturday, tommy and billy maximoff have football practice.

it may seem like a hassle to some parents, having to take the time out of their day to drive their kids to this place and that, but for this particular lesson, wanda doesn't mind.

the reasoning for her sweet relief doesn't lie entirely within helping her darling boys play their favourite sport, as strange as that sounds. truthfully, the answer would lean slightly more towards the person that coaches them in that sport.

but, who could blame wanda?

after all, her boys' football coach was just about the biggest heartthrob she'd ever seen.

bronzed skin kissed by the sun, expanding over broad shoulders and a sturdy figure. biceps and triceps so prominent it was nearly blinding, and forearms so structured it made architects weep. wanda felt as if you were a greek god come to life, with an unfairly charming smile and large, large hands.

wanda knew she wasn't the only one, after all, thirsting over the classic young, hot, athletic coach.

now, watching you be surrounded by the younger moms with their kids, hanging off your every word, wanda couldn’t help but feel a bubbling feeling of jealousy rise in her.

wanda maximoff had never been a pushover.

"okay, so when scoring a goal you’re going to find small windows or open spaces. don’t wait for the perfect opportunity, take every chance you get.” you explained to the group of kids grouped in front of you in the hot sun.

“there’s no windows in football!” tommy maximoff helpfully piped up. the lively seven-year-old student of yours was always full of energy, quite unlike his twin, billy, who was generally more reserved and quiet.

you cracked a laugh at his response, before feeling a pair of eyes on you from behind. sitting in the court side benches was mrs. maximoff, with her dazzling smile, looking directly in your line of vision.

you gulped. god, as much as you loved teaching her kids, she was something else entirely. the way her exposed thighs were shining in the hot sun made your throat run dry. when mrs. maximoff gave you a playful wink, you felt something throb in your pants.

i swear to god, y/n l/n, if you get a boner in front of these seven-year olds i’ll kill you.

gratifyingly, you managed to evade the embarrassing situation, instead letting them practice goals on their own for a while.

as all the little kids were running around in the hot sun, you retreated to a sheltered corner to grab a drink. wiping the sweat off your forehead, you nearly jumped a metre high into the air when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“didn’t mean to scare you, sorry darling.” mrs. maximoff said with a wry grin, sitting herself down next to you. you’re more than welcome to have her, noting the way her eyes raked over your taller, sweaty form. interesting.

“s’alright, mrs. maximoff. how’s your day been going?” you ask, attempting to strike up casual conversation. you ignore your heart beating faster in your chest.

wanda chuckles, leaning back with a sigh. “tiring, i suppose. extremely hot weather, though. summer is a blessing and a curse.” you’re about to agree with her wholeheartedly, before wanda’s casually unbuttoning her blouse. you choke on your words.

she’s absolutely mesmerizing. your eyes can’t seem to stray from her newly-exposed cleavage, accentuating her breasts and the pink bra that peeks through. it’s awful, you know, that your mind is running wild at the sight of the curve of her breast, but you can’t seem to help it.

the two of you spend some time, sitting on that bench, watching as the kids try and fail to kick the ball successfully within the goalposts. it’s almost therapeutic. until……

“look out!”

before you can react, the corner of your eye catches the sight of a stray ball.

it’s flying towards wanda and the drink in her hand, and by some miracle your goalkeeper senses are awakened seconds before it can touch her.

an arm flying out to stop the ball, you miraculously catch it with one hand at such a high pace. your hand flexes with the fierce catch, a well-muscled forearm now in wanda’s direct line of vision. time’s frozen for a second, as you watch wanda’s shocked face, almost blushing too. you’d never felt more cool.

but after your goalkeeper instincts kick in, your teacher instincts kick in, and you stand up to speak to the careless kid. before you can leave, wanda tugs on your arm. you spin around and you nearly faint.

unbeknownst to you, the drink in wanda’s hand had split with the impact of the ball, and it was all over her blouse now. to add insult to injury, it easily seeped through the thin material of the white blouse, basically making it transparent, baring to your eyes what was underneath.

the yells of the kids fade out as you stare at the wanda, shell-shocked. you can see…… everything.

despite wanda’s face of worry, you swear there’s a hint of deviousness in there, almost as if she planned to have her drink there. you shake your head. i’m goin’ mad in the sun, you think.

“i-uh, let’s get you some clean clothes, mrs. maximoff. sorry about the kids, i-”

“no worries," wanda answers promptly, holding on to your forearm. "don't want anyone else to see," she whispers, effectively hiding behind you as you lead her to the equipment closet.

the consequences of this, however, lie in the fact that you can feel wanda's nipples pressing into your back, small and hard and rubied. the searing heat in your pants is almost unbearable now.

calm down, it's not a big deal.

wanda's hand trails over the expanse of your back when the two of you reach the equipment closet, and you unintentionally shudder under her touch. you pretend you don’t notice the smirk on her face.

you shake your head vigorously, resisting the urge to slap your hands to your cheeks. she’s just my students’ mom, you think, swearing you don’t care about how close the two of you are.

when wanda’s ass brushes against your crotch. it takes every cell of your existence not to rip off your goddamn shorts and start fucking her against the wall. you’d never been so riled up.

“here’s some clean clothes. sorry about the size, though.” you mumble, averting your eyes when wanda tries to look at you. you shove the clothes into her hands, eyes fixated on a football on the shelf.

“help me with the button?” wanda asks, and you spin around, then you nearly choke. again.

she’s taken off her blouse, exposing her chest to your hungry eyes. the lacy pink bra is the object of your desires, distracting you in every sense imaginable. at this point, you couldn’t give a flying fuck about your boner. you know she’s as turned on as you.

"i get it, sweetheart, you're a young adult with needs, hm?" wanda asks in a sultry voice, walking up to you ever so slowly.

you swallow, not trusting yourself to speak. all you can do is stare at wanda with a haze in your eyes.

her hands reach the straining tent in your pants. it's erect, forming a bulge so huge wanda can barely cup all of it in her hands.

your breathing becomes ragged as wanda traces her fingertips along the bulge. you're looking down as she gets on her knees, eyelids fluttering.

she licks her lips.

"let me help you with that," wanda whispers, casting a look upwards. you bite back a low groan at her expression, so ready to pleasure you and take your length into her pliant mouth.

you raise an eyebrow in a challenge, staring down with dark eyes, and wanda is more than quick to rid of your shorts, admiring the sheer size of your fully-erect cock.

the tip is a cherry red, precum already leaking, and she eagerly laps up the remaining residue. you let out a moan, hands twisting into her scalp as you pull her mouth closer.

nothing could describe the euphoria you felt when wanda first wrapped her lips around your cock, clinging onto your tensed quadriceps to steady herself.

"shit," you groaned, throwing your head back, tugging onto wanda's locks of hair firmer. she let out a moan from the back of her throat, releasing your cock from her lips with a 'pop'.

moving on to languidly trail her tongue along your shaft, wanda showed off experienced skill in the way she maneuvered her way around your cock, teasing you up and down then licking at the slit.

fuck, you were close. really, really, close.

wanda was relentless in her ministrations, bringing you so close to the edge in such a short time. when she began deepthroating you, gagging prettily onto your cock, you’re sent tumbling over that edge with no safety net under.

“shit, mrs. maximoff,” you breathe, holding the sides of her flushed face, locking gazes with dilated pupils.

she gets up, slowly, brushing off her knees as if she hadn’t just brought you to a kaleidoscopic orgasm. “i’ll take my leave now, coach. the boys-”

you don’t grant her access to the exit, before you’re roughly pulling her back in for something more than just a blowjob.

after that racy encounter with wanda, the two of you seem to end up in the equipment closet a lot more. you’re making excuses, you know, pathetic, but you somehow manage to convince yourself you could ever have wanda maximoff.

you get to know her more, along the way, that her birthday is february 10, and her comfort food is parikash, and she’s sokovian, but her accent hardly ever makes its appearance anymore.

to you, wanda maximoff is more than a quick fuck, or a stress reliever. it’s stupid, you know, because she’s a divorced single mom with two kids and whole lot of responsibilities, and you’re nothing more than someone with too much love.

your role in her life is ambiguous to you. you sometimes wish you could dive into her brain to find out just what you are, but for now you have to be content with what you are.

the first time wanda brings you back home, you're more than eager to repay every favour she's given you.

she's hardly even unlocked the front door before you're lifting her up from the back of her thighs and up the stairs, making her so wet with that effortless, unyielding strength of yours.

it isn't long before you toss her onto the bed - the bed she used to sleep in with her ex-husband, the bed she spent hours masturbating on to the thought of you, the bed you were now devouring her on.

wanda doesn't know what she's done to deserve this, to deserve your deliciously thick cock ramming into her wet cunt, your hot mouth whispering affectionates into her ear, the silver chain on your neck dangling with each fiery thrust.

she's obsessed with the way your tattooed back muscles flex and move as you pound into her. she tries to forge it into her memory,

you're relentless, gripping her plush thighs and pressing her knees to her head. you know she takes yoga lessons and you haven't been more thankful for that flexibility.

wanda's spread entirely open for you, completely bare, all dripping and vulnerable, and you think you might just die.

that night, you make wanda see constellations she'd never witnessed, make her cum so hard wanda thought she might pass out, and simply take her.

that night was one that etched itself into both of your memories, of heat and fervour and lust and love.

love, those three words neither of you would dare to admit, of unsaid confessions and buried feelings.

when you lay beside a passed-out wanda, your own boundless stamina weary, you suppress the urge to stroke gently at her hair. it takes everything in you to not kiss her forehead and murmur things you'd always regret.

your heart was swelling, growing bigger each time you saw wanda maximoff, but she had little space in her life for you.

but for now, you wouldn’t care if it came back to hit you in the face.

for now, wanda maximoff would be everything to you, and maybe that would suffice.

recently watched ant man, and i swear there was something going on with jentorra and cassie... or maybe that's my syndrome of seeing every fictional woman as lesbian LMAO hope yall enjoyed this, the fic i'll be writing next is probably this :)

masterlist / AO3 / join the taglist

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yyuangss-main · 1 year

Text

❝EUROPEAN NONSENSE — SPIDERVERSE HCS

summary ; hobie with a hispanic girlfriend who loves to cook and makes her food spicy or very seasoned when he doesn’t use seasoning as much.

pairing ; hobie brown x hispanic fem!reader (no specific race stated)

note ; i sometimes forget hobie is british but writing this concept was so much fun to do lmao 😭 thank you anon for this request <3 i just hope our boy really doesn’t just season his stuff with salt only because of that.

• — hobie brown !

had a cough attack. this was deadass him the first time he tried your cooking.

now, the only reason you made food for him was because you caught what he was eating the day before. it was the most driest, whitest, piece of chicken you’d ever seen. it was so bad, you could hear pavitr crying his heart out all the way from a different dimension about “european nonsense”.

you remember just staring at the chicken on the plate. no seasoning, only salt. the worst part is, he had just drained it from the pot and you could see the steam coming off it. sits down with his knife and fork. you were just staring in disbelief and you asked him while pointing at his so called dinner, “hobie what is this?”

he looks at you and said, “what? have you never seen chicken before?” you don’t know what that thing was but it definitely was not chicken.

tells you that it’s good and you should try it. GOOD? you nearly lost your mind right then and there when he stabbed it with his fork and just bit into it. you’re convinced he’s a psychopath because even you wouldn’t stoop this low.

no way we’re you gonna have your boyfriend eat this for breakfast, lunch, and dinner 🙅🏻‍♂️ not when you know you can cook up the best meal he’d ever have in his entire life. you let him eat that dry chicken though because he needed to suffer for saying it was good.

you had told him to come over for dinner and he’s like “finally i’m gonna get to try your cooking” since you always told him how much you love cooking. actually, hobie starts coughing the minute you open the door for him to come in. hobie had taken a deep breath and was gonna say how nice it smelled before el chile hit him unexpectedly.

never smelled this amount of spice before. you had to open the windows to air the apartment out. you’re use to the smell so it’s not like it bothers you. he’s waiting out in the living room, still coughing and now you know he’s probably doing it on purpose.

you wait until the smell has calm down before you tell him the food is ready. pretends he died from hunger because you took too long. you’re surprised he didn’t choke on the dry chicken.

you decided to make him some empanadas de carne molida y de pollo which, unknown to him, was drenched in salsa roja and seasoned to your liking. you’d had the toppings prepared too. red onions, cilantro, lime, tomatoes, and several other things so he could taste it.

“by the way, i made sure not to make it spicy.” you told him that as you both sat down and he trusted you. which he wished he didn’t. you had two empanadas on his plate, one of each and pointed out which one was which and he went to try the chicken one.

first bite he was fine until the spice kicked in and he just looked at you and started having another cough attack like, “🤨 you’re sure this isn’t spicy?” you had to get him some water and he had to wait a little bit before eating again.

you told him to try it with the salsa you’d made. you did a red one and a green one. and according to you, the green one was the one that wasn’t spicy. naturally, he went for la salsa verde only to be met with a burning sensation far worse from the empanadas.

you had to apologize so many times to him but he told you that it was fine especially since you’re just used to the taste and smell. and it’s not like you did it on purpose. “🤨 or did you?”

after his experience, he doesn’t trust you when you say it’s “not even that spicy”.

but trust me, once he’s hooked, he’s hooked. never sees any kind of food the same. and it’s so hard to make him stop coming over whenever it’s dinnertime.

hobie just knows and he’s crawling through your window in his spider suit asking what you made for the two of you to eat. even has tomatillos and chiles verdes in a small plastic bag so you can make a salsa. meanwhile you’re just standing in the kitchen, knowing you only made enough for yourself.

you ended up having to teach him how to season his food. he prefers yours ten times more though so yes, he still shows up for dinner.

#atsv x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x you #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie x you #hobie x reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #hobie brown x hispanic reader #x latina reader #latina reader

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captainfern · 1 year

Note

I'm sorry-

But I'd like to request a part 2 to the Heart shaped box

Featuring Ghost as well 👀

Serve The Servants

Captain John Price x fem!reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley

["Serve The Servants" by Nirvana]

[18+]

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

• summary - a disciplinary meeting turns into something you weren’t expecting at all lol. • rating - 18+ [mdni] • wordcount - 5.3k • warnings - fem!reader, threesome [you’re going to paris], unprotected piv, heavy praise, light degradation, oral [m+f!receiving], creampie 😋👍, breeding kink [is that even a surprise with my fics anymore LMAO], lil bit of choking, lil bit of spanking, dacryphilia? idk sounds about right, this is literally porn with no plot, possessive!price and possessive!ghost, strong language

✿ this is a follow-up to "Heart-Shaped Box", but it can be read as a stand-alone ! and don't say sorry, anon— i enjoyed writing this 😈 ✿

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

“I don’t understand why you guys get to go on watch together, and I have to stay here by myself.” You groaned, Soap and Gaz standing in the doorway of the barracks.

“You’re not going to be alone,” Gaz said, a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You’ll have Price and Ghost to keep you company.”

You made a face. “They do nothing but babysit me.”

Soap scoffed from the doorway, arms folded across his chest. “You’re the one who’s constantly in trouble.”

“Am not!” You swiped at him, and he laughed, battering your arm away.

“When was the last time either of them scolded you for doing something stupid?” Soap asked.

You went quiet, counting in your head. “Like… yesterday.” You sighed.

Soap pointed at you. “There you go. Go play like, I dunno, checkers with them or something.”

“Checkers?” You blinked.

“I dunno what you get up to in your free time, lass. Sue me.” Soap said with a parting glance, exiting the barracks and into the cool night.

Gaz gave you one last pat on the shoulder, holding his assault rifle to his chest with his other hand.

“We’ll be back in a few hours.” He smiled, before leaving you alone in the main room of the barracks.

You sighed, closing the door and locking it. You decided to just retire to your room for the night, so you pattered down the hall and into your respective room. You slumped down onto your cot, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the sounds of the outside world.

Then, a loud knock on your door.

It nearly made you jump out of your skin. With the sudden rush of fright calming in your stomach, you opened the door, finding Ghost standing there. Mask on, gloves on, gear on. He looked down at you expectantly.

“What?” You asked, still waiting for him to say something. Anything, really.

“Price wants to see you,” he said finally. “In his office.”

You swallowed. “Am I in trouble?”

Ghost shrugged, walking down the hall in the direction of Price’s office. You rolled your eyes inwardly. Real helpful, thanks Ghost, you thought.

You made your way down the hall as well, walking through the open door of Price’s office. He sat at his desk, relaxing in his leather chair. Behind you, the door closed gently, and you turned to see Ghost standing there. He leaned against it, large arms folded across his chest.

You looked back to Price. “Okay, be honest. Am I in trouble again?”

Price chuckled. “What would you be in trouble for this time?”

“Who knows, but I could probably make an educated guess if you really wanted me too.” You replied, clasping your hands together in front of you.

Price chuckled quietly, getting to his feet. “You’re in a little bit of trouble.”

You cursed. “I knew it. What did I do this time? Playing my music loud? Leaving my dishes in the sink?”

Price shook his head, walking around his desk. He leaned up against the front of it, fingers bracing the edge.

“Well, I heard you fucked your captain.” Price said, still smiling, and an immediate rush of red filled your face.

Your eyes shot back to Ghost, who didn’t seem shocked at all by the information— not that you could overly tell with the mask on, but you just got the vibe.

Your eyes snapped back to Price’s. “Sir—?”

“Denying it, sergeant?” Price smirked.

You stuttered. “What? N-no, sir. I mean—”

“Also heard you wanted to fuck your lieutenant,” Price continued, cutting you off. “Is that true?”

You were burning up, eyes on the floor. Had he seriously told Ghost everything about your little fantasy? How fucking embarrassing—

“Answer your captain.”

The voice reverberated behind you, deep and dark, morphed from the shadows themselves. You felt the hot flash of embarrassment and nerves tingle down your spine.

You swallowed thickly. “Well—”

“Tell the truth, sergeant.” Price said.

“Yes.” You whispered, barely audible over the blood roaring in your ears and the bruising knocks of your heart against your ribs.

Price tutted, shaking his head slowly. “Naughty girl you are, sergeant. Wanting both your superiors?”

You thought he was going to get closer, but he didn’t. Instead, he beckoned you to him, crooking his finger at you. You shuffled forward, until you were so close that one of his slightly bent knees brushed yours.

You had your eyes firmly on the ground, fingers interlocked in front of you. Your entire body was burning up, and you felt like you were being examined under a microscope.

“You think you should be in trouble? Think you should be punished for wanting your captain and your lieutenant?” Price whispered softly, a stark contrast to his words. He lifted his hand, cupping your cheek and stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

“No, sir—” you went to mumble, but he wasn’t listening to you.

He peered over your shoulder, hand moving from your cheek to your neck, resting there delicately, feeling the fluttering of your pulse.

“Think she should be disciplined for this behaviour, lieutenant?” Price asked Ghost, and you screwed your eyes shut.

You heard the door lock.

Footsteps, only a couple. Then a presence behind you: a lurking figure pressing against your back, warm and muscular.

“Definitely,” Ghost said and you felt your heart explode with nerves. “Can’t let our sergeant get away with this.”

You felt numb. What the hell were they—?

“Hear that?” Price cooed in your ear, hand beginning to tighten just slightly around your throat. “Even Ghost knows how naughty you are.”

A sigh left your mouth in a stutter. “Sir, I—”

“You want both of us?” Price asked. “Want us both to fuck you? Since you’re so needy for your superiors, eh, sergeant?”

Your eyes widened, a low whine leaving your throat as Price pressed his fingers tighter, and Ghost pressed his chest closer against your back.

You then felt Ghost shift behind you, his head resting on your shoulder. His arms slowly, slowly wrapped around your waist, tattoos on display. Gloved hands rubbed down your sides as he let his mouth, behind his mask, brush against your ear.

“Captain’s told me all about what you want,” Ghost whispered, voice deep. “Told me how you want both of us. How you want me to fuck your pretty cunt while he fills that pretty mouth of yours. That true?”

You were melting, brain liquifying. “Yeah…” you mumbled out, Price’s hand on your neck and Ghost’s body pressed to yours making you dizzy.

Ghost pushed you back into him, arse against his pelvis. You could feel him hardening. You whimpered.

“So depraved, sergeant…” Ghost held you to him. “So needy,” he pressed his masked mouth to the skin below your ear, and your body jolted, yet he kept you firmly in place. “You want us? Say the word, baby.”

You whimpered again, his mouth hot on your skin even through the mask. Price was watching the two of you, patiently, hand on your neck.

“Yes, fuck, please…” you drawled, and that sealed your fate.

•°•

“Yes, fuck, please—!” You moaned out, reaching down to grip Ghost’s head.

Ten minutes after meeting in Price’s office, you were in his bedroom. The captain had stripped you naked, both him and Ghost had sucked marks down the entirety of your neck and chest. They then man-handled you onto Price’s bed, and that is how you ended up like this.

Ghost lay on his back, his arms wrapped around the thick of your thighs. He was holding— no, pushing— you onto him. You tried to remain upright, but his tongue was slipping in and out of your cunt in such a way that you were struggling to maintain balance.

You had a hand to his head, fingers pinching against the material of his mask. The lieutenant had rolled it up, just above his nose, so he could attach his mouth to your dripping core. His nose nudged your clit with each stroke of his tongue, making you hum out from the base of your throat in pleasure.

Ghost dragged his tongue up and down your folds, swirling around your clit for a moment, before plunging it back into your hole with a lewd squelch. You moaned out at his actions, thighs tightening around his head. He groaned into your cunt, the vibrations setting your clit alight.

“Ghost…” You keened, hand holding his mask-covered head as you tossed your head back.

He hummed against your cunt in reply, tongue still deep in your hole. He was looking up at you, eyes hooded, veined hands gripping and kneading the soft flesh of your thighs.

In front of you, Price leaned against the headboard, a freshly lit cigar between his lips. Like Ghost, he was in his boxers and nothing else, and he palmed himself as he listened to the breathy noises you were making.

You blinked over in his direction, the smell of his cigar smoke intoxicating, mixing with the smell of both their colognes, your perfume and sex. You whined at him, reaching your free hand out and resting it against his bare knee (that’s all you could reach from your position).

He ran his fingers up and down your arm. “That feel good, love?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Price took a drag of his cigar. “Tell him, then. Tell him how good he’s making you feel.” He exhaled the smoke in your direction, and it seemed to glow around your head in a shimmery grey cloud.

You whined, Ghost moving his lips to draw your clit into his mouth, sucking harshly. You looked down at him, eyes nearly watering, and found him still looking up at you. His pupils were blown, stretched across his irises, and you could see the small mound in his mask where the bump of his nose was covered.

That’s all you could see. The rest of his face, unmasked, was deep and happy in your wet heat.

“Feels so good, Ghost,” you breathed, petting his head gently. “Making… making me feel so… good.”

The way he was lapping at you was making it hard to concentrate. Next to you, Price shifted so that he was sitting alongside Ghost’s laying form. He grabbed hold of your throat again, fingers pressing gently to your neck. He then brought your face to look at him. With his other hand, he plucked the cigar from his lips, a cloud of smoke swirling out of it. He then pressed the cigar to your lips, coaxing you to inhale. You did, forcing back the urge to cough, instead just exhaling it mid-sigh as Ghost’s pace increased.

Price looked at you approvingly, taking one last drag of his cigar before he placed it on an ashtray on the bedside table. He didn’t exhale, holding the smoke in his mouth and pulling you to him. He pressed his mouth to yours in a searing open-mouthed kiss. The smoke was pushed into your mouth, the burn soothed by the delicate caress of his wet tongue. You whined into the kiss, weaving your free hand into Price’s hair, holding his face to yours as you kissed him.

The smoke he blew into you mouth escaped in tiny tendrils out the corners of your mouth. He pulled away, gripping your throat and angling your head to the side so he could suck another hickey onto you— to join the multiple blooming across your neck, chest and breasts. He sucked it at the underside of your jaw, nipping along your collarbone before he pulled away.

As he did so, you felt your stomach begin to tighten, your body flushed hot with arousal as your climax simmered within. Your legs tightened even more around Ghost’s head, earning another low groan from the depths of the lieutenants chest.

“Gonna cum?” Price asked you, rubbing his fingers possessively down your neck.

You nodded frantically, your high closing in on you fast. You were whining, desperate, pushing against Ghost’s head.

“Ghost, I’m go—”

Ghost shifted his arms from your legs to your hips, pushing you off of his face and onto his lap as he sat up. You gasped loudly, body thrumming with a suppressed orgasm, stringing your nerves tight. You ignored the throbbing in your clit as you stared him down.

“What—?”

“You’ve been so greedy, sergeant,” Ghost said, voice condescending. “We told you this was a punishment. You won’t get to cum unless we say so.”

“Please—” you pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears.

Instead, you’re roughly manoeuvred off of Ghost’s lap, pinned onto your back by two pairs of strong hands. Your head came to rest on Ghost’s leg, the expanse of his thigh cushioning you. You look up at him, and he rests a hand on your cheek.

You have a moment of serenity before your legs are thrown upwards again. You restrict a gasp as you feel the bed shift, Price tossing your legs over his shoulders and settling in between your thighs. His eyes are locked on you, making eye contact as he drags himself closer to your leaking core.

You huff down at him, reaching for him, snagging your fingers in his hair and pulling gently. He smiles at you, smoky breath fanning across your cunt, warm and right there. You urge him forward, but he doesn’t move: remains still, hands slowly wrapping around your legs, the scratch of his beard on your inner thighs.

You were getting desperate, heat building in the base of your spine, legs trembling. You were holding Price’s hair, whining at him.

“Price, please.” You begged, tears welling behind your eyes as the heat of his mouth grew tantalisingly close to you. Your cunt was still aching from your stripped orgasm just moments prior, and you could feel your excess arousal pooling along the curve of your arse.

Price chuckled lowly. “Begging, are we?”

He didn’t say anything else when you groaned at him. Instead, he sealed his mouth over your clit, then licked up and down your folds. You jolted against Ghost’s lap, sobbing out in pleasure that— fucking finally— Price had his mouth on you. You pushed your captain’s face further into your cunt as his tongue worked you, and he hummed against you.

There were tears in your waterline, a product of your desperation, that Ghost noticed. He peered down at you, still stroking your cheek, your head dangerously close to his cock, tenting his boxers. He could get you to suck him off, but, if he was being honest with himself, he wanted to watch your pretty face as your captain ate you out.

He lifted you up slightly, so that you were leaning against his hip, head raised and still able to see both his and Price’s lusted stares.

“You like that, baby?” Ghost whispered, dragging his hand to your jaw and lifting your head to look at him. “You like when your pretty cunt gets eaten?”

You hummed out a moan, a yes, as your captain fucked his tongue into you repeatedly. His nose pressed against your sensitive clit, making your legs clamp around his head. He groaned into you, eyes fluttering shut for a moment, before he opened them and resumed watching your blissed out state.

The tears behind your eyes slipped along your waterline, sparkling in your eyelashes as your body drew tighter and tighter, a thin sheen of sweat adorning your skin.

Ghost was rubbing at your jaw, your cheek, petting your hair as you got nearer to coming. He watched a single tear roll down your cheek, and he caught it with his forefinger, smearing it across your skin.

“You’re crying, pretty girl?” He mused. “Feels so good that you’re crying?”

You sobbed out at him, the pressure and heat on your overstimulated cunt intensifying. You now had one hand in Price’s hair, the other gripping Ghost’s wrist as he drew his finger along your cheek, pressing it against your lips.

Ghost’s finger breached your mouth, another followed, and you moaned around them. He shushed you gently, letting you weakly twist your tongue around the digits. His eyes darkened behind his mask, before he pressed his fingers against your tongue, pinning it to the bottom of your mouth. You choked, feeling saliva begin to pool. Before you could stop it, more tears were streaming down your face, drops of saliva squeezing out the corners of your mouth.

Ghost groaned above you, thrusting his fingers further into your mouth, making you gag. “Gonna stuff your mouth with my cock, eh, baby? Wanna see those tears when I’m fucking this pretty mouth…” He ended with another groan as tears slipped down your cheeks.

You were so close, the pleasure almost painful as Price sucked at your clit, running his hot tongue along your sopping cunt.

You pulled his hair, mumbling around Ghost’s fingers. “Price, please.”

He pulled away. You wanted to scream. Ghost pulled his fingers out of your mouth, holding your throat with wet digits.

“Price—!” You moaned out, body hot and aching and flushed with sweat. “Please, sir, please let me…”

Price tutted you, spreading your legs further, moving your thighs away from his head. His entire lower face was drenched with you, facial hair glistening, nose and lips wet. He licked his lips, eyes flicking from your tear-streamed face, to your drooling cunt, back to your face.

“Think you deserve it?” Price asked, fingers dragging along the inside of your thigh, making you squirm. Ghost’s hold kept you still. “Think you deserve to cum after being such a naughty girl, eh, love?”

“Yes, fuck,” your body was on fire, trembling from yet another orgasm that was taken from you. “Please, Price, need it so bad.”

Price looked up at Ghost, who was too busy staring at the tears dripping down your face, mixing with the rivulets of saliva. He was dragging his fingers across them, collecting the liquid on the pads of his fingers.

“What do you think, Ghost?” Price asked. “Think she deserves it?”

Ghost snapped his eyes away from your face, over to Price’s. He let his eyes rake over your body, overheated and squirming, and then nodded at Price.

“Yeah, I just think she should apologise first,” Ghost held your throat, making a small moan catch in your throat. He whispered at you, “apologise, baby.”

You groaned, blinking tearily at him.

He cooed, almost condescendingly. “Apologise for being such a needy slut, sergeant.”

Price suddenly pushed two fingers into your aching hole.

“Fuck— I’m sorry—! I’m sorry—!”

“For?” Ghost urged.

“For— oh my god— for being such a n-needy slut.” You sobbed, arching your back off the bed as Price fucked his fingers into you.

Through the mask, Ghost pressed a kiss to your forehead, stroking his fingers along your neck and face with either hand.

“Good girl, baby,” Ghost muttered. “Good girl.”

Price reattached his mouth to your clit as his two fingers dragged along your walls, making you writhe. Your orgasm was quick to build again, and you held onto Ghost for stability.

You were scared to warn them about your fast approaching climax, worried Price would stop. But the words slipped past your lips, dazed: “Gonna cum…”

“Go on then, baby,” Ghost wiped the tears and saliva from your face. “Cum for us. Cum in your captain’s mouth. Show us you’re a good girl, come on.”

You came with a moan of their ranks— gushing into Price’s mouth, splattering across his face and forearm. Ghost praised you gently, stroking your face as you came down, trembling. Price soon detached from your cunt, moving up your body to slam his mouth to yours. You moaned, tasting yourself.

“Fucking heavenly,” Price uttered, pulling away. “Feel better, love?”

You whimpered at him, leaning against Ghost for support. They both chuckled at you, before Ghost’s hands around your neck were gone, and you were being moved. You were spun over, your hands and knees pressed against the mattress. Your arms buckled, pleasure-weak, and you settled your chest against the soft duvet.

That position didn’t last long, as Price moved past you, settling up against the headboard. He urged you forward, taking your hand and pulling you to him. He rested your front on his lap, his boxers now gone, his cock hard as he gripped it. Your eyes widened, moaning at the sight, and you were quick to replace his hand with your own, holding him.

Behind you, you felt the bed dip and two large hands grab your hips. Fingers traced along your stretch marks, rubbing circles as a warm presence loomed over you. You lazily stroked your captain’s cock, and he huffed above you, a gentle hand coming to rest on the top of your head.

“Isn’t she fucking gorgeous, lieutenant?” Price said, petting your head.

Ghost grunted a reply, too busy massaging the flesh of your hips. He leaned forward, his hard body bending over your back. You could feel the firm ridges of his abs along your backside, and the weight of his cock rubbing onto the mound of your arse.

“So pretty…” Ghost said after a moment, moving one hand to hold his cock, tracing it down the wet seam of your cunt.

You moaned into Price’s lap, hand faltering on his cock at the feeling of Ghost behind you. You hadn’t even seen his cock, but it’s imprint against your sensitive flesh gave you a clear enough mental picture. Above you, Price continued to pet your hair.

“Gonna be a good girl for us, sergeant?” He asked. “Gonna let us fill you up?”

You didn’t answer, hyper-focused on the way Ghost teased the fat head of his cock up and down your folds. Both men waited for a second, your airy sounds filling the room and making them both harder.

Price used his hand to wrap around yours, guiding it in stroking his cock, encouraging you to resume your earlier actions. You did, face still buried in his thigh as Ghost continued to smear your arousal down the fat of your thighs with his cock.

“Come on, love,” Price urged. “Gotta give me an answer. Want us both, yeah? Want Ghost to fill your needy cunt? Want me to fill this pretty mouth?”

You mumbled something against his bare thigh, coarse hair tickling your face. Price sighed above you, and you suddenly felt the weight of Ghost’s hand leave your hip.

You quickly found out where it went.

Ghost landed a solid smack to your arse, the clap echoing around the room. You jolted forward, head lifted from Price’s lap, mouth agape with a silent gasp.

The lieutenant rubbed at the reddened flesh with his large hand, soothing it. “Answer your captain, baby. Go on.”

You whined, blinking out of your haze, looking up at your captain with wet eyelashes. He looked down at you, cupping your face.

“Come on, darling. Want both of us?”

You nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Fuck, yes,” Ghost growled, before he was thrusting all the way into your tight heat. You opened your mouth in a silent moan, heart spasming in your chest as he filled you. “Fuck, such a tight cunt, baby. So fucking wet.”

He pulled out and pushed into you again, dragging the air from your lungs in a stretched moan. He built a pace as you dropped your hand to the base of Price’s cock, bringing it to your lips.

“That’s it, baby,” Ghost grunted behind you, pelvis smacking your arse. “Suck your captain’s cock, just like that, good girl…”

You took Price’s cock into your mouth after placing a delicate kiss to the tip. When your mouth enveloped him, Price released a low groan. He watched you, eyelids heavy, as you took more of him.

What you couldn’t fit in your mouth— which was, unsurprisingly, quite a lot— you wrapped your hand around. Your saliva was quick to drip down his cock, and you used it to slick your hand movements, pumping him as you dragged your mouth up and down.

“C-Christ,” Price hissed. “So good, love. So good.”

Your body hummed at the praise.

Ghost continued to fuck into you like a man starved, rutting his cock into you, grunting beneath his breath with each thrust. Your cunt was dripping around him, down your thighs.

He clucked his tongue. “Such a messy girl, sergeant. Making such a mess on my cock.”

You moaned around Price’s cock, the sound of Ghost moving in and out of your wet heat deafening in the quiet room. The masked man leaned over, placing his mouth to your spine. Even through the material, you could feel the heat and shape of his lips, a tender action as his cock hit deep within you, abusing your cervix.

“Such a good fucking girl, baby,” he uttered, slamming you against him. “My good fucking girl.”

Above you, Price huffed. His grip on your hair tightened, and he bucked his hips slightly, tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag.

“Yours?” He breathed. “I had her first— stuffed that cunt first, lieutenant. She’s all mine.”

He inclined his hips again. You gagged again, tears blurring your vision.

Ghost let out a short, low laugh. An amused scoff. Both hands holding your hips, he moved one around your body, placing a thick finger to your swollen clit. He continued to fuck you mercilessly, hitting the soft plug of your womb, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

Your cunt gripped him tighter, eyes rolling momentarily in your head, a loud moan trapped in your mouth as you choked on your captain’s cock.

“She was thinking about me when you fucked her last time, right? Wanted this cock stuffing her tight cunt,” he growled, thrusts increasing, a bruising pace. “Wanted her lieutenant to fuck her. Wanted my cock in— fuck— in this pretty, wet cunt.”

Your orgasm was building. You could feel it, coiling in the pit of your stomach, tingling along the base of your spine. Your cunt was pulsing around Ghost, his cock slamming repeatedly into that spot within you that made your legs twitch and eyes roll.

“But she wanted me first,” Price hissed. It was unfathomable that both men were talking about you as if you weren’t even there. “She wanted my cock— ah, shit— first… wanted me to fuck a baby into her. Isn’t that right, darling?”

You hummed something indistinct around him, feeling him twitch on your tongue. You were barely maintaining precise movements, pleasure flooding your veins at the dual stimulation provided by your lieutenant.

“Sorry captain, I’ve fucked her dumb. Poor baby can’t even speak.” Ghost said, voice hoarse.

Price wasn’t listening. He was looking down at you, his cheeks flushed beneath his beard, grip tightening as he bucked his hips into your mouth. He was going to—

“Take it all, fuck, good girl, darling.” Price muttered, voice swimming in your head as he came down your throat, a breathy groan passing his lips.

He held you to him for a moment longer, letting you catch your breath, cock still heavy on your tongue. When he slowly pulled out, you swallowed properly, and he leaned down to place his mouth to yours.

“Did so well, darling.” He said against your lips.

You tried to kiss back, but your orgasm was breaking like a wave over you. You warbled something at Ghost as Price kissed you— he was swallowing your moans, obscuring as much as he could from Ghost, which you didn’t pick up on.

“That’s it, baby, cum on my cock. Atta girl, just like that,” Ghost breathed against your spine, pressing himself to you as you finally came around him. “Good fucking girl, baby.”

You gushed around him, wetness splashing across his pelvis and down both his and your thighs. You moaned again, louder this time, as Price moved away to watch you come undone, his hands cradling your face, neck, holding your tits.

Your post-orgasmic haze ebbed and waned as Ghost rutted into you in such desperation that it made you dizzy. He was grunting behind you, animalistic, as he abandoned your clit and gripped both of your hips. He pulled you against him, meeting your thrusts, your arse smacking against him.

He watched where his cock entered you, how your drooling cunt sucked him in with each thrust. He was groaning under his breath now, panting as he scrambled to maintain a rhythm. He was struggling though, his orgasm mounting.

“Fuck, fuck, baby, so good,” he groped your sides, mumbling. “So good for me, such a good little slut, taking all my cock, baby.”

You writhed beneath him, drunk off his words. Price had reached for his cigar, smoking now as he caressed your upper body, large hands warm on your bare skin.

Then, you were snatched away from Price’s lap. You yelped as Ghost sat you upright, holding you to his chest as he fucked up into you, cock piercing your womb at a new angle. His thighs caged you, large arms holding you still as he used you. He rested his chin on your shoulder, masked face buried in your neck, huffing and panting.

“Gonna cum,” he groaned into your neck. “Gonna cum inside, baby, okay? Wanna fill you w’me.”

Price growled, leaning against the headboard with his cigar hanging from his lips. He was slowly stroking his hardening cock, but stopped at Ghost’s words.

“Don’t you fucking dear, Simon.” Price said, using Ghost’s real name.

It didn’t seem to faze Ghost. He looked at Price over your shoulder, a challenging stare. Then, he groaned, quickly reaching up to shove his mask just above his mouth. He began to suck a hickey onto your shoulder.

“Gonna stuff you full of me, have you leaking, baby,” he said against your skin. “M’gonna put a baby in you… m’gonna breed this tight cunt—”

He moaned against you, coming hard. He filled you to the brim, overflowing onto Price’s bedsheets as he fucked it further into you. He thrusted lazily, holding you too him. You were whining softly under your breath as he grunted a couple more times.

“Good girl.” He whispered, kissing your shoulder.

•°•

Later, both men had cleaned you up, showering you and drying you, before tucking you beneath the— now clean— sheets on Price’s bed.

You rested your head on Price’s chest, his arm around your shoulders, holding your hand on your stomach. He placed a kiss to the top of your head every so often.

Ghost laid beside you, head on your lap. He had taken off his mask, and you raked your fingers through his blond hair. His large hands massaged your thighs over the blanket.

“Feeling okay?” Price asked. “Didn’t hurt you, did we?”

“No, you didn’t,” you said. “Felt good.”

Ghost hummed from his place on your lap. “‘Course it did.”

“Don’t be mean,” You pouted. “You felt just as good, considering you kept thanking me when we were in the shower.”

He just responded with a grunt, but nestled himself deeper into your lap. Price stroked your hair, kissing your head once more.

“Consider this all… disciplinary action.” Price joked, and you smiled, warm and comfortable.

•°•

“So, were you bored out of your mind?” Soap asked the next morning as you, him and Gaz drank tea outside, admiring the early morning quiet.

You took a sip of your tea. “No, they kept me occupied.”

“Both of ‘em?” Gaz laughed. “Ghost let you annoy him all night?”

You hummed, nodding. Gaz just laughed.

Soap ignored the hickeys poking out from the neck of your hoodie. “Glad you had fun, lass.”

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

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moonselune · 3 months

Note

Eyooo was wandering if u could do the ladies reacting to a gn Tav using their entire body to shield the women from a fireball blast? Like they hear the spellcaster going for it and they just engulf the ladies in what is essentially a bear hug that fully covers the ladies so they don't get affected by the blast please?

Icl all I thought about whilst writing this was the Sean Paul 'Fireball' song, hence why this came out less angsty lmao

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The battlefield was chaos, a cacophony of clashing steel and arcane energy. Amidst the fray, you spotted the enemy spellcaster, their hands already weaving the intricate patterns of a fireball spell. Your heart lurched as you realized the blast was aimed directly at Karlach, her back turned as she fought off a group of gnolls.

Without a second thought, you surged forward, throwing yourself between Karlach and the impending explosion. Wrapping her in a tight embrace, you used your entire body to shield her from the blast, feeling the heat and force of the fireball scorch your back. The pain was immediate and intense, but you held on, determined to protect her.

As the fireball dissipated, you slumped to the ground, your body charred and smoking. Karlach spun around, her eyes wide with horror and fury.

"Are you out of your mind?" she roared, her voice a mix of anger and concern. "I’m literally fire resistant, you idiot! I'm basically on fire 24/7. Why did you do that?"

You managed a weak smile, your voice barely a whisper. "Couldn't risk it… didn't want you to get hurt."

Karlach knelt beside you, her hands shaking as she tried to assess your injuries. "You're a damn fool," she muttered, her tone softening as she saw the extent of your burns. "But you're my damn fool."

Shadowheart arrived, her face set in a mask of concentration as she began to cast healing spells. Karlach stayed by your side, her anger giving way to a fierce protectiveness.

"You're not doing that again, you hear me?" Karlach said, her voice choked with emotion. "You can't keep risking yourself like this."

Despite the pain, you reached up to touch her cheek. "I'll always protect you, Karlach. Always."

Her eyes softened, and she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "And I'll always protect you, too. So no more heroics, okay?"

You nodded weakly, comforted by her presence and the knowledge that, and despite your recklessness, Karlach would always be there for you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The din of battle was deafening, and amidst the chaos, you heard the ominous chanting of a fireball spell. Your heart raced as you saw it aimed straight at Minthara. Without hesitation, you sprinted towards her, your body moving on instinct.

"Get down!" you shouted, throwing yourself around her in a protective bear hug.

"What are you—" Minthara began, but her words were cut off as the fireball erupted against your back.

The intense heat seared your flesh, the pain nearly unbearable. You grit your teeth, holding Minthara tightly to shield her from the worst of the blast. The flames licked around you, but you refused to let go until the fire had passed.

When the magic finally dissipated, you crumpled to the ground, your body charred and smoking. Minthara immediately knelt beside you, her eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and worry.

"You fool!" she snapped, her voice trembling. "There was no need for this. I could have taken the hit."

You coughed weakly, managing a small, pained smile. "Couldn't risk it," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Had to protect you."

Minthara's expression softened ever so slightly, but she still looked furious. "You reckless idiot," she muttered, her hands moving to cast a healing spell over you. Divine energy flowed from her fingers, mending your burnt flesh and easing your pain.

As she worked, Minthara glanced over her shoulder and barked, "Shadowheart, tend to Gale. He's likely to get himself killed without supervision."

Shadowheart nodded and moved to attend to Gale, leaving Minthara to focus on you. She continued to channel healing energy, her touch surprisingly gentle.

"You should not have done that," Minthara said quietly, her anger giving way to a more vulnerable tone. "Your life is just as important as mine."

You reached up, your hand trembling, to touch her cheek. "I couldn't let anything happen to you," you murmured. "Not while I could still do something about it."

Minthara sighed, her eyes closing briefly as she leaned into your touch. "You are a stubborn one," she said softly. "But I suppose I cannot fault you for your loyalty."

She finished her healing spell, the light fading as she helped you sit up. "Just promise me you won't throw yourself into danger so recklessly again," she said, her eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of sternness and concern.

"I'll try," you said, knowing full well that it was a promise easier said than done. Minthara shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"You're impossible," she murmured, but there was a warmth in her gaze as she helped you to your feet.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The battlefield was a chaotic clashing of weapons and arcane spells. Amidst it all, you fought alongside Lae'zel, your heart pounding with the rhythm of combat. Suddenly, a sinister voice rang out from the enemy ranks, casting a familiar and dreaded incantation. Ignis.

Your instincts took over. You saw the spellcaster hurling a bead of intense flame towards your group, its trajectory set to engulf Lae'zel. Without a second thought, you lunged towards her, wrapping your arms around her in a protective embrace. Your larger frame enveloped hers completely, creating a shield with your body.

The explosion was deafening. Heat seared through your clothes, burning your skin, but you held firm, refusing to let go. The pain was a distant sensation compared to your determination to protect Lae'zel. When the flames finally dissipated, you collapsed to the ground, smoke rising from your charred body.Lae'zel disentangled herself from your embrace, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and fury.

"Why did you do that, you fool?" she demanded, her voice trembling despite its harshness. "I am a warrior, stronger and more resilient than you. Sacrificing yourself was unnecessary!"

You managed a weak smile, your voice raspy from the pain. "Lae'zel, I love you… but you need to shut up and go get Shadowheart. Now."

For a moment, she seemed to struggle with her emotions, her grip tightening on her weapon. Then, with a frustrated growl, she nodded and sprinted towards the camp.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The battle was fierce, with spells and steel clashing in a chaotic dance of death. You and Shadowheart were in the thick of it, fighting side by side against a band of ruthless mercenaries. The enemy, seeing the tide turning against them, began chanting the incantation for a fireball, the air around him crackling with arcane energy.

You heard the familiar and dreaded sound of the spell being prepared and saw the fiery orb forming in the enemy's hands. Your eyes darted to Shadowheart, who was focused on healing an injured companion, her back turned to the imminent danger.

Without a second thought, you launched yourself towards her, engulfing her in a protective embrace. Your arms wrapped around her tightly, and you spun around, placing your body between her and the incoming fireball. The moment seemed to stretch into an eternity as the world around you slowed down.

"What are you—" Shadowheart started to protest, but her words were cut off by the deafening roar of the explosion.

The fireball hit, and the searing heat and force of the blast tore through you. Pain unlike anything you had ever felt surged through your body, but you held on, using every ounce of your strength to shield Shadowheart from the brunt of the attack. The flames licked at your skin, burning and blistering, but you refused to let go. Your only thought was to keep her safe.

When the flames finally subsided, you collapsed to the ground, your body charred and smoking. Shadowheart, unharmed but wide-eyed with shock, immediately pushed herself up and turned to you.

“Y/N!” she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of anger and worry. “What were you thinking? That was so stupid, you idiot!”

You managed a pained smile, your voice weak but filled with determination. “There was no sense in the healer getting hurt,” you croaked. “We need you to keep everyone else alive.”

Shadowheart’s expression softened, though her eyes still blazed with a mix of emotions. She knelt beside you, her hands already glowing with the healing magic of Selûne. “You reckless fool,” she muttered, but there was a tenderness in her tone. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” you replied, wincing as the healing energy began to mend your burns. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Her hands moved over your wounds, the light of her healing magic soothing the pain and repairing the damage. She worked quickly and efficiently, but her touch was gentle, almost reverent. “Next time, let me handle the danger,” she scolded, though her voice was soft. “You’re too important to risk like that.”

“I’ll try,” you said with a faint smile, feeling the pain ebb away as her magic did its work. “But no promises. I’d do anything to protect you.”

Shadowheart sighed, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re impossible,” she murmured, finishing her healing spell. She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “But I suppose that’s one of the reasons I love you.”

“I love you too, Shadowheart,” you whispered. You reached up, your fingers lightly brushing her cheek, then with a final surge of healing energy, she restored your strength, the burns on your skin fading away.

“There,” she said, helping you to your feet. “Try not to get yourself killed, alright?”

“I’ll do my best,”

��── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The skirmish was intense, the air thick with the scent of ozone and blood. You fought side by side with Jaheira, her movements a graceful dance of deadly precision. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw an enemy mage chanting, his hands weaving an ominous pattern in the air. One you recognised as 'Fireball'.

Your heart lurched. You knew the spell well and its devastating potential. Without hesitation, you threw yourself towards Jaheira, wrapping her in a bear hug that used your body as a shield. The world exploded in a torrent of flame, pain scorching every nerve ending as you took the full brunt of the blast.

When the flames subsided, you fell to the ground, your body smoking and charred. Jaheira gently extricated herself from your grip, her eyes filled with concern and something deeper.

"Why?" she asked softly, kneeling beside you. "Why would you take such a risk?"

You managed a pained chuckle, wincing at the effort. "Because, Jaheira, your ancient bones are just too flammable."

A spark of amusement flickered in her eyes, though it was tempered by worry. "If you weren't already burnt to a crisp, I would hit you."

You smiled weakly. "Just get Shadowheart. I might not be able to take another one of those for your brittle bones,"

Jaheira squeezed your hand briefly, her expression softening with tenderness. "Stay strong, my dearest," she murmured, before hurrying off to find Shadowheart.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

What do we think about adding Jaheira to the main roster of BG3 ladies, pls lmk because I may start adding her - Seluney xox

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heavenlyhischier · 1 year

Text

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰 | 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

word count: 5.5k

summary: jack lets his frustrations get the better of him and says some things to you that leave you questioning everything.

warnings: angst (mostly), cursing, drinking, brief asshole!jack, if you see any editing mistakes lmk because i dont have any one beta read lmao

The quiet hum of the tv seeped into the kitchen as you put the dishes away, careful to not drop any of the fancy glassware you and Jack had used the night before. He had surprised you with a romantic dinner after your exhausting week at work, and you nearly burst into tears when you walked into his apartment last night. You had gone over to his place expecting to just fall asleep on his couch as he watched tv, but of course he had something even better, and so special, planned for the woman he loved.

You had met Jack a year and a half ago at the coffee shop that was not only right by your job, but also his apartment. The two of you had seen each other in passing several times before you actually found the confidence to approach him one day and ask him for his number. Even with Jack’s insane and tight schedule, he managed to make as much time for you as he could, and you were grateful for that. Outside of one person from work, Jack was really the only friend you had managed to make since you had moved to Jersey, and you were over the moon when you felt it shift onto a more romantic path.

Despite not living with him, you often found yourself alone in his apartment as you waited for him to come home from practice. You would offer to go back to your own place every time, but he insisted that you stay because seeing you was something that always made him feel better. At least, you thought it did.

“Hey, baby,” You called out as you heard the door shut behind you. Sitting up to drape your arm over the back of the couch, you look at him and frown. His brows were pulled together and his face had frustration written all over it, “You okay?”

“Fine,” He grumbled, roughly kicking his shoes off and slamming his keys on the entry table.

“Are you sure,” You asked, worry clearly evident in your voice. You knew how Jack could get when he was frustrated, and you wanted him to talk about it instead of bottling it up. You just wanted to help.

“I said I was fine,” He snapped, spitting out your name as if it was the most vile word he’s ever spoken.

“I’m sorry,” You weakly apologized, tears instantly brimming your eyes at his harsh tone, “I was just asking.”

“Trust me, I know. All you do is ask questions! You never fucking stop asking questions, so can you just stop talking for one god damn minute and let me breathe,” He yelled, face beet red and body taught as he hurled his nasty words at you, “Sometimes I wish you’d just leave me alone.”

Jack stormed away from the living room, footsteps echoing across his empty halls until the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut ripped through the entire apartment. In the year you’ve been dating, Jack has never, not once, spoken to you like that. Of course, you've had arguments before and sometimes the two of you would yell at the other in frustration, but this was something entirely different. This time, he threw some of your biggest relationship insecurities in your face, and now you were doubting everything you thought you knew.

Tears flowed down your cheeks as you let you out quiet sobs, your heart beating so loudly that it was all you could hear through the ringing in your ears. Your throat was dry as you tried to choke in as much air as you could, but it felt as if someone was wrapping their hands around your neck. Your hands grasped at the couch as you planted your feet on the floor, trying to ground and compose yourself. You were glancing around the room as if you were searching for something, anything, that was going to tell you that this was all a joke, and he wasn’t being serious. Yet, all you were met with was the ghost of Jack’s anger lingering at the door.

Wiping at your tear stained cheeks, you pushed yourself off the couch and neatly folded the blanket you had been using to cover your legs. You could hear the faint sound of a shower running, and a part of you wanted to follow the sound and join him, but all you could think about was what he had said to you. Does he really wish you’d just leave him alone? Had you been too overbearing? It’s what your last boyfriend had said about you right before he broke up with you, so maybe Jack was being honest.

The world spun around you as you walked towards the door, sliding your shoes on and grabbing your bag as quiet hiccups slipped through your lips. The pain bleeding from your chest made it difficult to breathe, and the knots twisting in your stomach were making you nauseous. Still, you pushed yourself to walk out of the door and dial the one of the few friends you had outside of Jack.

“Ryleigh?”

“I’m going to kill him,” Were the words that came out of Ryleigh’s mouth as soon as she pulled her door open and saw you standing there with red puffy cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

She pulled you into her chest, wrapping her arms around you as sobs, once again, shook your entire body. Your keys and phone fell to the floor as you clung to the woman in front of you, her hands rubbing soothing circles on your back as she carefully guided you to her couch. The New Jersey air was frigid, and all you had been wearing was a thin sweater and shorts, so Ryleigh bundled you up as best as she could while she comforted you. She didn’t even have to ask you what had happened before you began recounting the events that had only just occurred.

“Am I too much,” You cried as you focused on steadying your breathing.

“Of course not, honey,” She consoled, eyes darting to where you were assuming Dawson had been standing. You had heard him coming when you started telling Ryleigh what happened, but he had yet to make his presence known. “He was just having a bad day, and while that doesn’t excuse his terrible behavior, it does mean that you did nothing wrong. He just doesn’t know how to control his anger and that isn’t your fault.”

You weakly nodded, the sounds of Dawson’s feet padding across his floor cutting through the tension around you. You glanced over at him as he stopped in front of the door, bending over to pick up your phone that had been vibrating against the wooden floor. His face slightly hardened when he read the name on your phone, and you felt your stomach drop.

“It’s Jack,” He flipped the screen towards you, “Want me to answer it?”

“Tell him I don’t want to see him right now,” Was all you were able to get out before you felt the air catching in your throat again.

“No, it’s Dawson. She’s at my place with Ryleigh, but she said she doesn’t want to see you. Because you were a fucking dick to her, Jack. No, shut up and listen to me. I get you’re frustrated right now, but you never take that out on your significant other. Especially not the way you did. You take that shit out on the ice during games or even practice, but you never take it out on her.

“She’ll talk to you when she’s ready, and you better not try and come over here because I won’t stop Ryleigh from hitting you. Now, you better come up with a damn good apology and I will see you at practice.”

Ryleigh held you as you listened to her boyfriend talk to the one man you’d thought never hurt you the way that he did. Doubts clouded your thoughts as you began to let yourself wonder if Jack even wanted to be with you anymore; if he even wanted to be in the first place. He knew better than anyone that the way your previous boyfriend had left you completely shattered you, and for him to insinuate that he felt the same was enough to leave you questioning everything.

You had decided to go back to your own apartment the following morning after Dawson let you crash at his place despite Ryleigh’s insistence to stay there. With the promise to call her if you needed her or anything and one last bone crushing hug from both members of the couple, you headed to your own home. Dawson had turned your phone off after his phone call with your boyfriend, and you had yet to turn it back on because you feared what would greet you once you had. Maybe Jack went against his teammates request and sent you messages and left you voicemails. Or maybe he had listened and hadn’t tried to contact you at all. You’re not sure what you’d prefer at the moment.

Pushing the door to your apartment, you were half hoping to see Jack already in there waiting for you since he had a key, but you were met with an empty, half-cleaned apartment. You briefly paused in your doorway, eyes welling with tears as you let yourself remember everything that happened. Hanging your keys up on its rightful hook and slipping your shoes off, you beelined to your bathroom to take a shower. You felt dirty and thought that maybe a shower would help calm you down, and it did. Until you finally turned your phone back on.

17 missed call from Jack <3

34 unread messages from Jack <3

Your breathing faltered, finger hovering over the notifications as you debated on whether or not to read his texts or not. Ryleigh had made sure to reiterate that just because he tries to apologize to you, doesn’t mean you have to forgive him unless you’re ready to. Clicking on his texts, you skimmed over them and grew angry as you realized the majority of them were just half-assed excuses and only three of them held any sort of apology. Despite the seething fury coursing through your veins, you decided to be mature in your response.

To: Jack<3

I’m not ready to talk to you. You threw some of my biggest insecurities in my face because you were mad, and that’s not ever going to be okay. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to discuss this with you. Good luck at your game tomorrow.

His response was almost instant.

From: Jack<3

I know it wasn’t okay, baby. I’m sorry. I know that there’s no excuse for what I said. I’m stressed out and I took that out on you. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.

Are you not going to come to the game?

To: Jack<3

I don’t think I’m going to be up for it, but we’ll see.

Even before you and Jack had officially started dating, you’d never missed one of his home games. You had always been there sitting wherever he could get you a seat, cheering the team on no matter how they were performing. Jack was convinced your presence made him play better, so you had vowed to make an appearance at as many games as you could, but you weren’t sure you wanted to be there for him tomorrow night.

The rest of the day, Jack hadn't texted you after his last response, and a part of you was grateful. It gave you time to think everything over and gather your own thoughts on the whole situation. Of course you didn’t want to break up with him, but you also didn’t want to be in a relationship with someone who felt like your affection was overbearing. After your last boyfriend, you promised yourself that you would have more self respect than that.

You decided to not attend the game the following night, but you did text Jack wishing him a good game and that you would still be cheering him on. He didn’t respond, so you weren’t sure if he had time to read it or not. Ryleigh and Brooke had both texted you asking where you were, and then asked if you would be up to going out after the game. Actually, Ryleigh didn’t give you a choice in the matter. She told you that her, Brooke, and a few of the other girls would be by as soon as the game was over to pick you up.

Knowing that with the combination of both Ryleigh and Brooke there would be no use in arguing, you started to get ready whenever you knew the third period was just over halfway finished. You hadn’t asked the girls if the guys were going to be wherever you ended up, and truthfully, you didn’t want to know. To you, knowing that Jack would be there is a great contrast to hopefully assuming he won’t be.

The bar was buzzing with life as soon as the four of you arrived, pushing through the sweaty bodies to get to the areas of booths you normally sat in. Kristyna ordered everyone a round of shots before falling into conversation with the rest of you. Your nerves slowly dissipated as you let yourself enjoy the moment instead of focusing on the state of your relationship. Laughter filled the booth as Brooke retold a story you’d heard a dozen times before, but it was still as funny as it was the first time you’d heard it. Loud cheers erupted at the front of the bar, and you couldn’t help but let your gaze flit towards the commotion. Your heart fell to your stomach when you saw Jack trailing behind his teammates as they politely greeted their fans.

“Shit,” Ryleigh mumbled, gently grabbing your hand, “Dawson said he wasn’t coming, I'm so sorry.”

Tearing your eyes away from the man you loved more than anything, you met her sympathetic stare and gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Ry. I can’t avoid him forever.”

Jack found you as soon as he’d walked in the door; he always did no matter where you were. He watched as your hand shyly covered your mouth as you laughed, a habit of yours he was doing his best to break. You hated the way you looked when you let yourself genuinely laugh, but to Jack? He thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world and it was a crime for you to hide your beauty. He was startled back to reality when someone clapped him on the back, congratulating him on the team's win tonight.

Your heart beat loudly in your best as you chewed on your bottom lip, waiting for the boys to reach the booth. There was an open spot next to you, and you knew that Jack was going to take that spot even if he had to move someone to do so. You were doing your best to not let yourself glance in their direction, choosing to focus on the loose thread at the bottom of your dress instead as you tried to gather your nerves. It wasn’t until you felt the dip in the leather next to you that you knew there was no containing the anxiety budding inside you.

“Hi,” Jack’s voice was hesitant and nervous, his hand instinctively reaching for your own, but it quickly retreated back to his side. He didn’t want to push any boundaries you had laid out.

“Hi,” You breathed out, letting yourself meet his gaze. You were hyper aware of the several pairs of eyes that kept glancing at the two of you, but you were opting to ignore them for now. You were only focusing on him.

He had guilt swimming in his eyes, and you wanted nothing more than to pull him into you so that you could feel his warm embrace again. Every nerve in your body ached for him, but the sensible part of you couldn’t let yourself give in that easily. If he wanted you to forgive him, he was going to have to work for it.

“How are you,” He asked, eyes dragging along your scantily clothed body.

“Uh I- I’m okay. Been better,” You inwardly cringed at how awkward it was between the two of you. Things weren’t even this weird the first time you went out with him.

“Me too. Played like absolute shit tonight,” He darkly chuckled, turning his gaze to the ground in front of him as his jaw clenched.

“Jack,” You sighed as you placed a gentle hand on his bicep. His head snapped back towards you, eyes wide with surprise at the physical gesture, “It’s just one game. It doesn’t change anything. Besides, you guys still won.”

He swallowed thickly, eyes unwavering from your own as he managed a simple nod in response. You didn’t miss the way his focus flicked down to your lips, but you chose to act as if it never happened and avert your attention back to the group in front of you. You slid your hand down the length of his arm, taking his hand in your own as a way to comfort not only him, but yourself. Despite everything, his touch still brought you a sense of ease, and in a place full of people, you needed all you could get.

After a couple hours of laughter, playful arguing, and copious amounts of alcohol consumed by your friends, Jack could tell that you were beginning to get tired. While you decided to not join in on some rounds of the shots, you had still drank enough to make your cheeks warm and eyes glossy. Your eyes were slowly drooping, your head lolling onto the back of the booth as your focus on the group began to dwindle.

“Hey,” He delicately squeezed the exposed skin on your thigh, “You getting tired?”

You opened your eyes just enough to see him through your lashes, letting out a quiet hum and a small nod. He couldn’t help but stop to admire the way you looked. Your hair was splayed across the leather behind you, your lips parted as you let shaky breaths pass through them, and your bottom lip swollen and red from your teeth biting at it.

“Do you, um- Do you want me to take you home,” He nervously asked, not sure if you would want to be around him when it was just the two of you. He’s still painfully aware of the hurt he’s caused you, and he hasn't had the chance to make it right yet.

“Please,” You mumbled, forcing a small smile on your face as you tossed him another lazy look.

Slightly leaning forward, he placed a tender kiss on your forehead before telling you he was going to let Ryleigh know he was taking you home. Jack knew the woman wasn’t his biggest fan at the moment, but he also knew that if he didn’t tell her that you were leaving, that he would never hear the end of it. Ryleigh, and Brooke, had said some choice words to the man in front of her, but ultimately chose to let him go with the promise that he would text her when you were home safely.

Your eyes were closed when Jack returned back to you, your shoulders slowly rising and falling with each passing breath. He shook his head in amusement before gently shaking your body, trying to wake you without startling you too much. You stirred just enough to peek at him through the small slit in your eye, and he had that dumb, endearing smile on his face that made you playfully roll your eyes at him.

You held onto his arm as he led you out of the bar and out to his car, letting him help you into the passenger seat. Nerves were burning through your skin, the realization that you would be alone with him for the first time since the incident slowly settling in as he walked around the front of the car. The alcohol still circulating through your system is the only reason you’re not full blown panicking. Though even then, your mind was running with anxious thoughts.

The drive was silent, only the quiet melody of the radio filling the empty space as Jack drove to your apartment. He knew that taking you back to his own was likely to make you panic, and he didn’t want you to feel like he was cornering you. You were quiet, doing your best to keep your eyes open as you watched the New Jersey nightlife pass by through the window.

Jack pulled into the parking garage, his car finding the spot that he claims as his own whenever he ended up at your place. You barely had time to unbuckle your seatbelt by the time he was opening the door, hand extended towards you to help you out of the car. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took his hand, stepping out of the car and into the empty garage.

As Jack led you up to your apartment, all he could think about was the look on your face when he yelled at you. It was a look of complete, and utter hurt that was still lingering every time you looked at him. The ache that he felt when he realized the true nature of his actions was so excruciatingly painful that he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Jack had promised you, and himself, that he would never hurt you the way you had been hurt before, and he had broken that promise.

You were so tired that you were half asleep by the time that Jack was pushing into your apartment, making sure to lock it behind him. He guided you into the bathroom, helping you take your makeup off before retreating to your bedroom to find you a t-shirt to sleep in. When he pulled the middle dresser drawer open, he couldn’t stop the guilt from spreading in his chest when he saw more of his shirts than of your own.

Knocking gently on the bathroom door, he cracked it open and passed the shirt through the slit. He’s seen you naked more times than he could count, but he was still aware enough to know that you more than likely didn’t want his help. When you were changed, you slowly opened the door and followed Jack to your bedroom.

Your heart was racing a mile a minute, nerves winding through your veins the longer the two of you went without addressing the massive elephant in the room. The longer he went without saying anything about it, the more your insecurities began to weave their way in and thoughts of the worst possibilities filled your mind. However, it became clear that he wasn’t going to say anything when he had turned to leave your room once you were settled in your bed.

“Jack,” You hastily called out, reaching for his arm before he could walk out of your room, “Do you not love me anymore?”

Your voice was so weak and small, cracking as you asked Jack a question that tore his heart out of his chest. He thought he was hurting before, but that feeling was nothing compared to the feeling that was now sinking in his stomach. The worst part is, he knows that he did it to himself. He’s the cause of his own heartache because he’s the one that hurt you. He is the one that burned your relationship to the ground.

The silence that hung in the air made you want to throw up and tears prick the corners of your eyes as you assumed the worst. That Jack was trying to find a way to tell you that no, he didn’t love you anymore. You were silently cursing yourself for even asking the question knowing that you might not have wanted the answer. Yet, the alcohol that was still swimming through your veins gave you courage that you didn’t ask for.

You dropped his arm and pulled your blanket over your face, trying to put some sort of wall between you and Jack as he stood there. You didn’t want him to see the way his silence affected you, tears spilling down your cheeks and lips wobbling as you tried to stay quiet.

The mattress dipped beside you, Jack’s hand carefully searching for the end of the blanket in the darkness of your room. Your heart raced in both anticipation and panic, not knowing what exactly was going to happen with your relationship. His hand finally gripped the blanket to pull it off your face, and you immediately squeezed your eyes closed. You didn’t want to see his face when he told you he didn’t want you anymore.

“Hey,” He whispered, hand hovering over your cheek, not sure if touching you would be okay, “Look at me, baby.”

Keeping your eyes screwed shut, you shook your head as you blindly tried to take the blanket back from him, but his grip was firm. You gave up on trying to win the blanket back and rolled onto your side, burying your face into the mattress. You wished he would just get it over with; that he would just tell you that he was leaving you so that you could grieve in peace.

“I do love you,” His voice shook as if he was trying to keep himself from crying, “I love you more than I ever thought I could ever love anyone, and I am so sorry that I hurt you. Nothing can ever take back what I said to you, but it wasn’t true. Not even close.”

A mangled, choked back sob slipped through your lips because, even though he told you he loves you, you didn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth. No matter how badly you had wanted to hear him finally tell you that he didn’t mean what he said, you still didn’t believe him.

“Baby, please,” He pleaded, every nerve in his body yearning to pull you close to him, “Please look at me.”

“I can’t,” You cried, clutching at the sheet to keep yourself from turning towards him.

“Why,” His voice was thick with emotion, his leg nervously bouncing up and down as he dug his fingernails into his palms.

“Because I don’t believe you.”

You had begged Jack to leave your room after that, your chest aching so much that it felt as if it was going to cave in on itself. Your emotions were running amuck, seemingly out of your control as you let out gut wrenching sobs. You hated that you didn’t believe him because you so badly wanted to. Your heart was screaming at you to believe him, but your tainted brain was telling you it was a bad idea.

The next morning, you woke up with a dull ache in your head just behind your eyes. The memories of what happened last night on replay in your head. You were running through it all over again, thoughts of what you should have done making you nauseous. You regretted pushing Jack away so easily, but you credited the alcohol you had consumed that night for clouding your judgment. If you had been more in control of your emotions, you’re certain that the conversation would have gone much differently.

Slipping out of your bed, you rubbed at your tired eyes and walked into your living room. You halted in the doorway when you saw Jack, still in his clothes from last night, sprawled out across the couch. While you had hoped that he was still here, you didn’t actually expect him to be.

Quietly approaching the sleeping boy, you couldn’t help but take a moment to admire his peaceful features. His lips were slightly parted as he let out quiet snores, a habit you had grown to find quite endearing. His cheeks were slightly swollen, presumably from crying, and you’re positive yours look the same, if not much worse.

“Jack,” You gently spoke, shaking his shoulders in an attempt to wake him, “Jack, wake up.”

He abruptly sprang off the couch, head knocking into yours. You let out a string of obscene words, your hand flying to rub at the spot on your forehead as you backed away from the couch. Jack was instantly jumping over the couch, apologies tumbling out of his mouth so quickly that you could barely understand him.

“Fuck,” He breathed out when he saw the red spot on your forehead, “I’m so sorry, baby. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You winced as his fingers brushed across the skin, “It’s okay. It was an accident. I was just trying to wake you up so we could talk.”

His fingers froze in their place, his breathing stuttering before he let out an aggressive nod. You held your hand out towards the couch, silently urging him to sit down. You followed right behind him, falling onto the cushion directly next to him. Jack noticed the way the goosebumps rose on your skin from the cold, and he was quick to grab the blanket from behind him and drape it over your legs.

“Thank you,” You mumbled, mouth drying as you tried to gather your thoughts, “I, um- Fuck. I wanted to say I’m sorry for pushing you away last night. I was a little too drunk to have that conversation last night, but I do want to give you the chance to talk.”

“Yeah, okay,” He rushed out, hands nervously gripping at his thighs, “Thank you. Honestly, I don’t really know what to say. No apology can ever make what I said okay, but the one thing I do know, is that I didn’t mean it. And I don’t want to lose you. Well, I guess that’s two things.”

Pursing your lips, you looked away from and down to your clasped hands as you tried to hide the slight smile on your face as he began to ramble. You knew he was nervous, you were too, and you knew he would always veer off topic whenever he would get slightly overwhelmed with what was going on around him. However cute you may find it in daily situations, this wasn’t the time for it, so you carefully took one of his hands in your own, bringing his attention back to you.

His eyes flash over to yours, wide with surprise as the words slowly disappear from his lips. He tightened his hold on you as if he was scared you were going to run away, but you didn’t mind it. You gave him an encouraging squeeze so he would keep going.

“Sorry,” He lightly laughed, “I am sorry. I know I said no apology would make it better, and it still won’t, but I am so sorry. I got so far into my head and let the things people, and the league, were saying get to me. I let my anger and frustrations out in the worst way possible, and I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you.”

He sucked in a sharp breath of air, rapidly blinking his eyes as tears started to fall before he continued, “I can’t get the image of your face after I yelled at you out of my head. I never want to do that to you again, and I hate the fact that I did it in the first place. I just- I’m just so fucking sorry. I fucked up so bad and I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to lose you.”

Jack’s voice cracked near the end, a broken sob echoing throughout your apartment. You’d been doing a good job at keeping your own tears at bay, but the second you heard his voice break, there was no holding them back.

“You haven’t lost me,” You managed to get out through your own cries, “I’m not saying this hasn’t damaged us in some way, but I am saying that it is repairable. We can fix it, if that’s what you want.”

“Yes,” He shamelessly blurted out, “Yes. I do. I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you. You’re everything to me, and I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you, okay? You are a beacon to me, and I can’t imagine my life with you.”

The two of you stared at each other, letting yourselves grasp onto the fact that there was still hope for happiness. That, despite the damage he unintentionally caused, your relationship wasn’t doomed for failure. While what used to be your relationship had been burned down, the two of you were going to emerge from the flames into something better entirely.

Jack’s free hand hesitantly cupped your cheeks as he asked, “You’re still mine?”

“Baby, I will always be yours.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #njd #new jersey devils

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aritsukemo · 4 months

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Your heart's too big for your body.. | Muichiro and Yuichiro Tokito

Warnings: Mentions of the reader throwing up in Yuichiro's part! All my emetophobic folks beware!!

A/N: I honestly don't know what this is lmao- I planned a completely different set of characters when I wrote this but as I was listening to Melanie Martinez's Crybaby album, I guess my mind just went to two characters who bring me a bunch of comfort. Like, as I listened, I felt kinda sad so my mind just imagined a bunch of scenarios with these two comforting someone.. ( Also, in case anyone's confused. Muichiro's part is set in a more modern au like the Kimetsu Academy au, Yuichiro's isn't )

"What the fuck," Is the first thing the teal-streaked medic mumbled when you stumbled into the Butterfly Manor half conscious, blood dripping from your head. and your hand poorly covering your stomach which had a horrifyingly-large gash on the center of it.

"T- Tokito.." You called, although you could barely get the words out before you tilted. Luckily, Yuichiro caught you in time before you completely hit the floor.

As your head hit his shoulder, a quick wave of panic shot through him. After all, it wasn't often that a Hashira—especially one of your caliber—to come in this wounded, or wounded at all for that matter.

As he helped you to your feet, Yuichiro threw your arm over his shoulder, ignoring your blood that had quickly begun to stain his clothes, and called for some assistance before guiding you to the nearest patient room and sitting you down on the bed where you immediately flopped over.

"Shit," He cursed out, finally noticing how bad of a state you had gotten yourself in. You showed obvious signs of having a concussion—a severe one at that. But he had little time to focus on that before you began choking.

With quick movements, Yuichiro helped you sit up only for you to immediately fall forward and cough up your stomach, staining the bottom half of his clothes with your blood and what was most likely your breakfast, shit.

It was only then that the Kakushi had rushed in, staring at the sight in surprised horror only to finally rush to your side after Yuichiro shouts at them to unbutton your uniform vest and press down on your stomach wound while he prepared the bandages...

When you finally awoke, you were experiencing one of the worst headaches of your life. The Kakushi had long been sent off, but Yuichiro was still there. Towering over you, scrutinizing you.

"How are you feeling?" Was the first thing he said. It came out in a rushed, whispered tone of voice instead of his usual vexed one.

"My head hurts.." You mumbled in which he hums and mumbles something involving Shinobu and medication under his breath. Although, it was hard to really concentrate on his mumbling when your head felt like it was being split open and the strong taste of metal was lingering on your tongue..

"So what happened while you were out?" Surely you had run into one of the Twelve. Logically speaking, there would be no other way for you to obtain such injuries. Unless you somehow tripped into a bear's mouth or something on your way home. Although he hopes that isn't the case. You were an idiot, but hopefully not that stupidly clumsy.

Your eyes drifted to your hands subconsciously, an expression of which the medic could only think was embarrassment slowly forming on your face.

"It was my fault," You began, and Yuichiro was already furrowing his brows, "I underestimated my opponent and nearly got another slayer killed as a result.."

"There was another demon slayer there?" His voice suddenly grew low as hed muttered his next words with poorly masked dread, "..What happened to them?"

"They..ran away," Wait..what?

"They did..what?" The sudden sharpness of his tone has you wanting to shrink away from him, "Say it again. I want to hear it. Now."

"There.. There were multiple slayers.. One of them attempted to help out, but in the end..when I was pushed back.." You pause, looking for the right words to your next sentence that wouldn't shove the truth of what happened in your face. The disheartening truth that makes your chest tighten and your heart sting. The truth that your comrades had left you to die, "I awoken and my comrades..had all..retreated to safety."

"So, they left you to die," You wince. The way he always worded things always sounded so painful to hear. It squeezed at your heart in a way that made your eyes sting and your throat tighten, but you try to brush it off as best you can.

"No, they just—"

"Decided to save their own worthless asses as soon as the fight didn't go their way and left you to clean up the mess?" As his anger grew, so did his voice, "No way you slice this will make the truth any less apparent that they left you for dead!"

"How many times have I told you about this? You need to understand that most people only care about keeping themselves happy and alive and don't care who dies at the expense of that! Not you, or me, or anyone else!" He's right. Both of you are aware of that and as a result, silence replaces any words that would've been spoken after that—well, that and the tears that are beginning to form in your eyes because of the intense stinging..

You raise you hand, your eye instinctively closing as you wipe at your eye, your tears smear as a result, but you could care less. As long as it got rid of them.

At some point, the silence was broken with the sharp sigh that slipped from Yuichiro's soft lips. He shuffles closer before leaning down where the coldness of his thumbs comes in contact with the warm skin just under your eye. They capture the tears that manage to escape and gently flicks them away.

"You shouldn't waste your tears. Not on them, and certainly not on me.." He tells you, but it only makes you want to cry harder—which you ended up doing.

"I'm.. I'm sorry..*hic*.. I.. I.." You couldn't even get your words out from how much you were choking. This was so embarrassing and you wished you could just crawl in the hole and never come out of it..

But you can't. So you'll just have to make do with Yuichiro caging his arms around you as you sobbed instead.

"Thank you for coming," You told him, intending for it to sound more like an happy and excited little kid than a heartbroken and dissapointed adult. He looks around, streamers and banners decorate the walls, rounded tables and chairs were dressed down in various colored flowers and other assortments—all of which were mixed and matched in your favorite colors—and a beautiful multi-tiered cake sitting in the middle of a long rectangular table in the back of the room—the cake's decor trailing down the layers and onto the table where it then hangs off the wood, like hanging wisteria trees..

Not a soul in sight.

It was confusing to him. He vividly remembers the long nights with you, both of you up at ungodly hours, dressed down in your pajamas. He remembers being on the phone with you, staring intently at the slumped beds that had begun to slowly form under your bottom lashes and the faded look of drowsiness on your drooping face. He remembers your hands, tiny cuts of all shapes and sizes dented in your skin from the many slip ups and paper attacks that happened that night and previous night. He remembers the afternoons slowly turning to evenings and then nights and he remembers you working nonstop on your invitation cards. Each were just a tad bit different, some of the handmade decorations being different sizes and beautified certain ways to mask the small but noticeable mistakes you made on some of them. He remembers how proud you looked everytime you finished a card, showing him while flashing the widest grin he's ever seen from you. He remembers how pretty each card looked..

Why didn't anyone show up?

"I suppose everyone was busy today," You said, but he couldn't tell if you were trying to answer the silent question in the air or trying to tell yourself that to make yourself feel better, "I knew I should've waited til' the weekend.."

"Why.. Where is.." He didn't know what to say. You were pretty well known throughout school, everyone loved you or so it seemed. Why is he the only one here?

"Y'know, when I first started passing out the cards, most people told me that they probably couldn't make it. It made me a little sad, but then I was asked if I could help them out.." You told him. He hated the look in your eyes as you said it, "Heh..I ran all over the place running errands for all those people..they said that because of me they'll have enough time to at least stop by and drop off their gifts.." You began to walk, your shoes dragging against the wooden flooring of your living room, Muichiro cringed at the screaking sound it made.

"I did all of that..and no one showed. I waited all day.." Your voice was so shaky and fragile, like a mirror slowly cracking. It felt like the shards of glass were slowly falling off and shoved down his throat.

Then your voice suddenly raised, "But it's okay!" You said, "It's okay," You repeated, "That just means there's more cake for the two of us to enjoy!" You stop right infront of the large cake, your head rolling to look back at him. His own mirror began to slowly crack as his teal eyes met your teary ones and you flashed him a smile, one thinned out instead of the usual full, bright one you always blessed him with.

It was heartbreaking. It made him want to cry. And he did. He didn't realize it, but the tears had begun to slide down his cheeks one after another..

"I'm..so sorry," He said as if he wasn't the only one standing here before you, "..I'm so sorry, Y/n.."

"Why are you apologizing? It's okay, Mui. Don't feel bad. I'm okay.." You croaked, watching with your bottom lip shaking as he neared you. Biting down on the skin when he enveloped you and his sobs filled your ears.

"It's okay. I'm okay. I'm..I.." With a loud hiccup to signal that the dam has broke, you fell apart completely. Body trembling as you leaned into his shoulder, mumbling words of reassurances over and over like a damaged record.

"I'm..fine.. I'm okay.. No need to cry.." You said, but your words comforted neither him or you—if anything, it only made your tears come out in quicker, thicker clumps, completely ruining the little makeup look you had spent an embarrassing amount of time doing.

At some point, you two hit the floor. Neither of you noticed it, but you were curled up in each others arms on the cold, lonely floor. Tears wetting each others' sleeves. It was a mortifying sight. If anyone walked in, there's a chance you'd both be made fun of for being such crybabies over a simple birthday party gone wrong.

But you never left his embarace and he never left yours. You both sat there, tangled in that messy embrace and sobbing, heavy feelings weighing in both of your hearts.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

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madaqueue · 6 months

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Practice Makes Perfect | Chapter 5

synopsis: you and yuji have been best friends basically as long as you can remember, and you made a promise to each other to stay friends and help each other be the best versions of yourselves for your future partners. but will things change when yuji finally starts looking for a relationship?

pairing: yuji itadori (18+) x f!reader

themes/content: modern college au (characters aged up to 18+). language, smut. oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), gagging. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.2 k

a/n: i need a fucking cig after writing this chapter lmao

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Yuji’s eyes grow wide and he nearly spits out his food at your request. He knew you were direct, but holy shit, he never would have expected this. Frankly, you don’t know where the sudden confidence came from either - was it jealousy? Anger? Lust?

He tries to hide a choke while moving his hands down over his lap, hoping you don’t notice the growing bulge in his slacks as he mentally processes what you just asked him.

“Did you hear me, Yu?” you say, leaning over the table slightly so your cleavage becomes more visible. “I said-”

“I-I heard you,” he cuts off with a stutter, his eyes trying to look everywhere but your now exposed chest.

“So, what do you think then? Is that alright with you?” your tone sultry as you bring an elbow up to the table and rest your chin on your open palm.

“Y-yes, of course,” he stutters, face turning red. “When were you thinking? I mean, your date is tomorrow, so I guess now? Should w-we go? We can go now,” he rambles.

You reach your other hand up to his cheek trying to calm him, his skin hot under your touch as you nod. A small “Mhm” purrs through your lips

What has gotten into you? You have never been this direct with anything in your life, and now you’re suddenly asking to give your best friend head? You blame it on being excited for your date with Megumi. Then again, you’re not even sure it is a date, since he did see you on Yuji’s bed the first time you met. You don’t even know if you have feelings for him, you just felt your mind get cloudy when Yuji smiled down at that damn phone and it’s like your body was moving on its own before you could catch up.

Yuji stands up, grabs his wallet out of his pocket and drops a few $100 bills on the table before holding out his hand for yours. You grab it and stand, eyes widening at the cash he just casually dropped on the table. “Holy shit Yu, where’d you get that kind of money?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says with a sheepish grin as he pulls you through the restaurant and outside. Honestly, it was all of the money he had budgeted for this date and his one next week with Nobara, and it was probably nearly double the cost of your entire meal, but he just couldn’t wait for them to bring the check. He had to have you, now.

The walk back to your dorm was nearly silent, Yuji’s hand not leaving yours the entire time and you could feel his palm getting slightly clammy as he refused to untangle his fingers from yours. You open the door to your room and realize it’s Yuji’s first time ever seeing it. His eyes glance around, noting the off-white bedding and pink pillows, matching the pink rug on the floor. There’s a soft glow from the string lights hanging up around the walls and the soft scent of vanilla hits his nose as he steps in and takes his shoes off. “It smells like you,” he whispers, almost to himself.

You close the door behind him and step out of your heels, feeling the cold ground underneath your feet as you guide him to the bed, hands still linked together. He stands in front of the bed and you start to slowly undo the buttons on his shirt, looking up to him for approval and he responds with a slight nod. You never realized before now, but Yuji was tall. Was he always this tall? It felt like he was towering over you as your hands worked his shirt off. His hands were behind him against the bed, needing the extra support or else he worried he might fall over, his heart was beating so fast.

When you get to the last button he almost instantly tosses his sport coat and shirt across the room, landing in a pile in front of your closet. Now shirtless in front of you, your hands lazily traced down his abs - again, when did he get so toned? He ate like shit, and even though you did recall him mentioning going to the gym everyday, how was this body hiding under those loose sweatshirts the whole time?

His breath hitches as your fingers reach the hem of his pants. “H-hah,” he breathes. “Y-your hands are soft,” he practically blurts out. A moment of silence passes. “So um, what now?” he tries to redirect.

You aren’t quite sure either. You pause for a moment, fingers looped around his waistband. You realize that if this is going where you expect it is, you don’t really want to ruin your dress (it was a wager even wearing a nice outfit around Yuji given the wine-debacle that happened last time), so you slowly take it off without saying anything, leaving you in a similar matching black bra and panty set to the one he accidentally saw you in last time, but this one notably showing more cleavage and ass, although you hadn’t turned around so Yuji could see it yet.

“Wow” he breathes. “All that for me?” he teases, and you roll your eyes in response.

Trying to think of what to do next, you realize it’s probably easiest if Yuji just stays standing where he is rather than trying to fit both of you on your twin bed. You slide down onto your knees in front of him, feeling the carpet rubbing against you as you bring your hands into your lap. Tilting your head, you look up at him. He feels his heart nearly leap out of his chest and his cock twitch at the eye contact, trying to shut down the thought of how pretty you look on your knees. Your hands slide up his pants and back to his waistband, this time undoing his belt, button, and lowering the zipper. You slowly pull his pants down to his ankles and he steps out of them, kicking them to the side. He’s left in only his black boxers, a visible tent forming in the middle.

The scene causes you to shiver, feeling the space between your legs growing wet. You look up at him one more time and he reaches a hand down to your face, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. You swallow and slowly pull his boxers down, his cock bouncing out and nearly hitting him in the stomach from how hard he is.

Holy. Shit. Yuji is huge. Your eyes widen involuntarily and your mouth starts to water as you try to think through the logistics of what you’re about to do. You look down at your wrist for a hair tie so you don’t have to worry about it getting in your way, but you must have forgotten one today. Of course, you think to yourself, the one day you need it. Almost as if he can read your mind, Yuji reaches his other hand down to the side of your face and pulls your hair back for you, holding it behind your head in a makeshift ponytail. “I got you,” he hums, looking down at you. You smile up at him in acknowledgement before turning your attention back to the task at hand.

You lick your lips, trying to plan where to even start. His flushed tip is almost perfectly level with your mouth, a drop of precum leaking out of it. You reach one hand up to his thigh to steady yourself and one around the base of his shaft. Parting your lips slightly, you lick the precum from his slit as he lets out a soft moan. Okay, so that’s good, you think. You open your mouth slightly farther and move his tip into your mouth, gliding your tongue around it. Another guttural moan leaves Yuji’s lips, this one slightly deeper than the last.

So far so good, but eventually you’re going to have to figure out how to take all of him down your throat. To get a better gauge of how difficult that will be, you pull your lips away and instead move to where your hand rests at his base. Sticking your tongue out, you lick up his length. His hands start shaking as they hold your hair back and his breathing speeds up. “That feel good?” you ask softly, knowing the answer. He looks down at you and eagerly nods.

With your confidence building, you open your mouth wider and begin sliding his cock into your mouth and down your throat. A soft “F-fuck” leaves his lips as you work your way down slowly. Suddenly, you stop. Shit. You can feel yourself hitting the back of your throat, and when you open your eyes you’re barely halfway down his length.

Yuji’s body takes over for him as you feel a pressure on the back of your head. He doesn’t even realize he’s moving you, all he knows is that he needs more. You let out a groan that vibrates along his cock as he pushes himself farther into your throat. “That’s my girl,” he praises without thinking, “take all of me. You can do it”

The words and the feeling of his tip reaching farther into you causes that familiar warmth to pool between your legs. You instinctively start grinding your hips against your legs, trying to get any sort of friction. Your lips hit the hand you previously held around his base, letting you know you’re almost there. You move that hand to his waist and grip him hard, using the force to pull your head towards him. Your nose hits against his pelvis as you take the rest of him into your mouth, desperately trying not to let your gag reflex get the better of you.

You feel his cock twitch in your mouth as your tongue moves along the bottom of him, slowly removing your mouth. You sharply inhale when you finally pull far enough out to breathe again, making sure to keep his tip between your lips as you slowly roll your tongue around it.

Now determined, you suck in another breath before starting back down his length again. This time you do it without any help from Yuji. Your head continues bobbing along his dick, and you feel it get easier to take each time you slide him to the back of your throat. You start paying attention to when he takes in gasps or lets out soft moans, making a mental note of what feels good without having to ask each time.

As you continue, you start being able to feel how you’ve soaked through your panties. Since you no longer need both hands, you move one down between your legs to slowly rub against your needy clit. The action forces a moan out of your throat, something you know Yuji likes because he immediately responds with a deep groan. Only this time, he continues, “Fuck, just like that. Keep going, please,” he practically begs. You take his full length into your mouth as you continue tracing circles around your wet cunt. “I-I’m gonna cum,” he breathlessly groans. All of a sudden his hands start shaking and he thrusts his hips up, pushing himself impossibly farther into your mouth. A sound, somewhere between a groan and a whine, escapes his lips, as you feel ropes of cum shoot down the back of your throat. You swallow it instinctively, barely noting the salty taste. You gently slide your lips off from around his cock as his hands fall away from your hair and down to his side.

Sitting back on your knees, you tilt your head up to look at Yuji, who stands above you with his eyes closed, panting. “You don’t, shit, you don’t have to swallow, I’m sorry-” he starts, eyes still closed.

You cut him off by suddenly standing up and attaching your lips to his, the feeling causing him to shiver against the bed. His hair has fallen forward and is slightly damp with sweat as it brushes against your forehead. Pulling away from the kiss for a moment, you whisper against his lips “Don’t apologize,” before pressing your lips against the side of his mouth, placing a gentle kiss before moving back and letting him catch his breath.

He finally meets your gaze with half-lidded eyes, pupils wide. A lopsided grin immediately forms on his face as he collapses onto the bed behind him. “Wow,” he whispers, “you are like, crazy good at that.”

You can’t help but giggle at the praise as you hop onto the bed next to him. “So, no notes?” you tease, placing another kiss onto his cheek as his smile just continues to grow.

“No notes,” he affirms, relishing in the full-body euphoria he is currently experiencing as he shuts his eyes. “Wait a minute,” he pauses, opening his eyes to look at the ceiling. “You were…you were doing something, during that, weren’t you?” He turns his gaze to you.

“What? Oh, you mean when I was touching myself?” you answer hesitantly.

“Yeah,” he responds, slowly moving towards you, “that.” You’re suddenly face to face with him, and you realize just how fucked-out Yuji looks. His brown eyes are practically completely black from his blown out pupils, his mouth loosely hanging open in a grin. He reaches a hand up to push his pink hair out of his eyes, never once removing his gaze from your lips. “You know, I’ve never had a chance to practice that before.”

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k-daydreams · 1 year

Text

The Pursuit of Feeling Alive: III. Bratty Behavior

Pairing: fem!reader x azriel, platonic!innercircle

Synopsis: cousin to Rhysand and Morrigan, y/n was once her family’s golden child. Faced with trials and tribulations her whole life, she needed reprieve— a distraction. Until a surprise homecoming opens Pandora’s box, and gives y/n a reality check. Especially facing her once close friend Azriel. Friends to Enemies to lovers trope.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: swearing, trauma, reader being shitty, slow slow burn, mor and Cassian being readers moral sanity, filler chapter, grammatical errors lmao

Authors note: hellooo! So this is kinda a filler since what I was writing for this part was so long. Next part will really be juicy I promise! Thank you guys for so much love on the last part, I hope y’all will like this! Not a lot of Az has been in this part, mainly talking about him in 3rd person, but I promise hold on hope y’all get him in action in the next!! Lmk what you guys think

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

"Rhysand isn't impressed with Azriel," Mor declared, her knife slicing through a piece of meat. "To be honest, Y/n, I could genuinely throttle him." She took a bite of her food before continuing.

It was your first night back in Velaris, and the inner circle, along with the company, was aware of what had happened between Azriel and you. Well, at least what Cassian, Nesta, and Elain had witnessed. Rhys and Feyre hadn't approached you about it yet; Mor mentioned they wanted to spare you any further distress for the time being. Typically when one of the inner circle members had returned home from something, Rhys would have organized a celebratory family dinner, but he had decided against it for now. Instead, you and Mor dined alone in the House of Wind tonight.

Nonchalantly, you shrugged and took a sip from your wine glass. "Just another tantrum from that Illyrian man-child. Nothing new, really." You tried to sound relaxed, not wanting your friends and family to worry about you or the argument. You didn't want Azriel to know his words had cut you deeply or give him any satisfaction. You had already shown him just how much they had affected you. The impact was tangible—you had been restless, tossing and turning in bed for the past few nights, with no appetite to eat. Your homecoming was supposed to mark the beginning of your healing journey, yet here you were, starving and sleep-deprived due to the nonsense uttered by a man who thought he knew you.

Mor nodded knowingly, her napkin dabbing at her lips. "He had no right to speak to you like that," she said, her voice firm. "He knows that, no matter what, you're family. That's why we came back for you when Helion sent word. He knows we would do the same for any member of our family and to disregard you so quickly like that."

Disheartened, you let out a sigh. "I don't know, Mor. I knew we ended things on a sour note, but it's been nearly 60 years since then. I thought he would have moved on."

Her food momentarily forgotten, Mor nearly choked when you made that statement. "Please tell me you didn't just say that," she responded incredulously.

What do you mean?"

She stared at you intensely, her eyes burning into your soul as you went blank. "Seriously?" Perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. "I've seen you hold grudges for centuries, and yet you expect him to forgive you for an argument that happened over half a century ago?"

Both of you fell silent, studying each other across the table. Mor's loyalty to Azriel, despite never reciprocating his feelings, was unwavering—just as yours had been in the past. At times, it made you question if her feelings for him were truly nonexistent, like now. A queasiness churned in your stomach, and your head throbbed with a dull ache. Perhaps drinking on an empty stomach hadn't been the best idea, especially when thoughts of Mor and Azriel intertwined.

You cleared your throat, a newfound coldness lacing your tone as you spoke up. "Every grudge I've held has been a result of something more severe than an argument," you stated, fidgeting with the table linen. "An argument, mind you, that happened because he didn't want me to follow Rhys."

Mor retorted sharply, "Look where that got you." Your heart started pounding, your ears heating. Your gaze dropped in her direction, and a familiar flame ignited within you. "What he did was fucked up, but Y/n, you can be a stubborn brat." You opened your mouth to object, but she raised a hand to stop you. "I'm not trying to be rude. I say this because I care about you. But it's time to own up to your mistakes. Only then, maybe, just maybe, you can find peace again."

Mor's tough love never felt good, but you knew it always came from a place of good intentions. Angry and devastated, you found it hard to accept hearing all that. Sure, you could be opinionated and stubborn at times, but reducing yourself to a brat felt unjust.

Draining your wine, you replied, "I had hoped for a civil conversation with him whenever we did talk." Mor looked skeptical, likely not fully believing you. You did have a record for the last century or so with picking arguments, you blamed being around Mor and Amren so much, and maybe a lot of repressed feelings.

Despite her irritation with you, Mor reached out and took your hand in hers, comforting you with gentle circles on the back of it, like a mother would. "When it comes to you, it seems his shadows turn to flames."

There was so much you wanted to say, but you remained silent, allowing her words to echo in your mind. You couldn't quite grasp their cryptic meaning, but you didn’t want to indulge in the topic too much longer. Mor let go of your hand, standing up. "Feel like grabbing a drink at Rita's?" she asked, her tone changing, a small smirk forming. A way to nurse your wounds.

Shaking your head, you replied, "Not tonight. I need to rest. Traveling today drained me. But thank you." You offered a tight-lipped smile.

"Sweet dreams, little star," Mor said, patting your head before walking away.

The once-dull headache now throbbed prominently in your forehead, and you cradled your head in discomfort. Mor’s conversation seemed to reflect the same argument you had a few days prior with Azriel. Though not filled with as malicious intent as his did, it still left you feeling just as scorned. The house cleared the table immaculately as you stood to make your way to your room.

The hallways were quiet and deserted, illuminated by the dim twinkle of faelights illuminating the red stone of the walls. Each light flickered slightly in your presence before dimming again, but you were too weary to care about such peculiarities of your powers. The House of Wind sprawled endlessly, a labyrinth of doors and spiraling stairs within the mountainside. A few new paintings and plants adorned the halls, likely additions from the High Lady and her sister, but it all remained as you remembered.

When you enter your room, a plate with an assortment of delectable cheese and crackers, accompanied by a tall, refreshing glass of water. Along with a small container of headache powder sat patiently on your bedside table. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you witnessed the house meticulously pulling back your sheets, reminiscent of the way it used to prepare your bed during your childhood days. Gently placing your night clothes at the foot of the bed, a smile of gratitude graced your face, silently expressing your appreciation to the house. It seemed that Rhys had been right about something you thought once you were in bed getting pulled into a restless sleep.

･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

You trudged begrudgingly through the halls of the endless mansion. Feyre had roused you from slumber earlier that morning, informing you of a meeting with the inner circle in an hour. Though you harbored little desire to attend, it was the first order by your new High Lady, making it a matter of importance. You hated how far your room was from the war room. Wishing you had wings, even better, you wished you had a room closer to one of the rooms you frequented the most. Finally almost out of breath, you made it to the entrance. You stalked into the room, you found Amren, Cassian, Lucien, Azriel, and Mor already settled in their seats.

"Tsk, tsk, fashionably late to your first meeting?" Cassian playfully jabbed at you. Walking past him, you discreetly flicked the back of his head, eliciting a muttered "brat" as he dramatically nursed the imaginary injury.

Your steps faltered for a moment, as that word—brat—pricked at your annoyance. Not letting it fester too much, you take a seat between Mor and Lucien. Sitting across from Cassian and Amren, with Azriel positioned diagonally next to his brother, you could feel his intense gaze fixed upon you. Determined not to shudder or shift under his scrutiny, you resolved not to let him see how deeply his words affected you. Deep down, however, you couldn't deny the lingering care you held for him, or the way his presence had consumed your thoughts over the past week like a plague.

"I don't see Feyre and Rhysand, so technically I'm not late," you declared, a smug tone coloring your words.

"Actually, they had other matters to attend to," Amren replied indifferently. It had been less than an hour since you last saw Feyre, leaving you puzzled as to what could have transpired in such a short span of time. Cassian nudged your foot under the table, a silent reminder of his earlier warning. Narrowing your eyes, you retaliated by kicking his shin, relishing in his sharp intake of breath as he winced. "Relax, Y/n!" he exclaimed, while you concealed your smirk, leaning back in your chair with crossed arms.

"Must you be so childish?" Azriel's voice snapped at you, catching you off guard.

Cassian stared at his brother in shock, attempting to defend your actions. “Brother I had started it-“

Beside him, the spymaster exhaled, regaining his composure. "I don't care who started it; I want to get through this as quickly as possible.” he requested, his tone cold.

"Yes, please," you muttered under your breath. The shadowsinger shot you a look.

Though you sensed he had more to say, Amren began speaking before another argument could erupt, cutting straight to the point. "We haven't visited the Court of Nightmares in quite some time. It's about time we made an appearance; I'm sure they're on the brink of chaos by now."

Mor sucked in her teeth, and you could hear Lucien gulp audibly, clearly apprehensive at the thought. You bit your lip anxiously.

"I won't be able to attend. Rhysand, specifically Feyre, has requested that you, Y/n, take the reins tonight," Amren announced, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. She seemed unfazed by the prospect of missing out on the formal affair. Uncertainty flickered across the faces of those from the inner circle, unsure of how you would receive the order, except for Azriel, whose expression remained inscrutable.

You fidgeted with your fingers, picking at the hangnails. Before Amarantha, you had taken pleasure in Rhys entrusting you with these meetings, where you handled official business between the Court of Dreams and Nightmares. It had been empowering to witness your family obeying your orders, having spent so long following theirs, only to be shunned upon your return in the aftermath of one of the darkest days of your life. Your parents were ready to condemn you for treason when they first laid eyes on you. That’s when Rhys had appointed you as an emissary. Primarily since you had spent the most time in the court knowing the ins and outs, and as a sick punishment for your family.

Now, anxiety gripped you as memories you had desperately tried to suppress from your childhood. Those memories now attached with the new ones you sought to repress from your encounter with Amarantha. It became increasingly difficult to focus on Amren's words as your gaze wandered blankly through the expansive window behind her, stretching from the floor to the ceiling.

"Azriel will be right beside you for protection throughout the night, Cassian will accompany Mor, with Lucien joining them," Amren continued, a hint of wariness in her words.

"Why-why can't Cass be by my side?" you stammered. "He's a general for a reason." You had an inkling to why Azriel had always been at your side when you’d be in charge of this responsibility, but you also wanted him nowhere near you. Didn’t anyone else think that him and you together was an awful idea at the moment?

"Because Azriel has a more intimidating effect on your family," Amren replied, looking knowingly at him. Azriel remained stoic, mirroring your own defensive posture—scarred muscular arms crossed, leaning back in his chair, stil as a statue. "As I said, it's been some time since we made an appearance. Who knows what they might do? We can't risk any harm coming to the Princess on her first days back at court," she added mockingly. Rolling your eyes, you fought the urge to offer her a vulgar gesture. For that remark alone, she could certainly go to hell.

"Cassian will come to fetch you later, so you can all gather at the townhouse and winnow together," Amren concluded nonchalantly. "Now, I need to speak with Mor and Cassian privately. You three are dismissed; I'm sure Azriel and Y/n are just itching to throw themselves off the dining room veranda by now." She said to you, Lucien, and Azriel. She was right about one thing, you thought to yourself, your chair scraping against the floor as you stood, eager to escape the war room as quickly as possible.

You closed the door to your room, and fell into your bed screaming into the mattress. You were frustrated, overwhelmed, and exhausted from lack of sleep. A small commotion on your nightstand made you jump, looking up, a medium box now laid on the stand. An envelope attached to a deep purple ribbon wrapped around the gift. You sat up, and grabbed it, opening the paper.

‘Give them hell tonight, you've earned it little star. -R&F’

Inside the box was a diadem of silver, stars of different shapes hung all adorning the chain encrusted in emeralds, diamonds of different hues, and sapphires for you to wear tonight. You sighed, a new feeling slithering through your veins. Maybe this was Rhysand’s way of giving you therapy. You all played a game and made a show down in the court of nightmares that the inner circle all got a kick out of at one point or another. Maybe playing the act was what you needed? You had let your mental shield down, letting your thoughts empty to nothing, hoping Rhys would be paying attention.

You planned this intentionally? You thought once your mind was blank.

Me? What would make you think so? Rhys purred in your mind.

You rolled your eyes. Mhm, you two just had to conveniently leave all of a sudden?

That’s a matter for tomorrow, just try not to torture someone to death tonight, especially not our spymaster. He taunted.

Your spymaster, no promises. You clarified.

Have fun, little star. You could feel him poking at your mind to signal he was no longer there.

You threw your shield up, and laid back on your bed. Tonight was going to be interesting.

･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

You fixed your lip shine in the mirror, finishing the final touches to your look before a rhythmic knock on your ajar door sounded.

“You ready?” Cassian peaked before walking into the room.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He let out a low whistle as he examined you. “Your family’s not gonna like that.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” You smirked despite a brief heat rising to your cheeks.

The gown you chose was something you had saved for a trip specifically for the court of nightmares before you had been trapped under the mountain. The bodice had long sleeves and was skin tight, black crystal branches wrapping up your arms, and up your waist with thicker branches covering your chest. The skirt billowed with several layers of gossamer, much like the gown you wore in the day court just several days prior, but had slits dangerously high risking a reveal of your hip bones unlike the other gown. You wore the highest heels you had in your closet that were sure to make you grumpy just by standing in them for more than a couple minutes— exactly why you chose them. Then the diadem that Rhys and Feyre gifted you graced the top of your head and shimmered in the faelight of your room that flickered in your wake, when you felt the satisfaction from Cass’s comment.

He clicked his tongue, crossing his arms. “I don’t think I even like that.” Then he noticed the slits in the fabric. Rubbing a hand over his face in disbelief. “Mother of the cauldron Y/n, are you even wearing anything under that dress?” He made a face which made you laugh out loud.

“Pig, no need to worry about that!” You slapped his arm lightly before looping yours through it.

“You’re right I don’t want to know.” He shook his head. Cassian was always your comedic relief from your worries, and you were thankful that hadn’t changed. “Could you let Nesta borrow it?” He suggested cheekily.

You groaned disgustedly, “then I would have to burn it afterwards.”

“Good, I don’t want to see you in this gown again after tonight.”

“You’re not my father.” You teased as you two walked out to the balcony.

“Yeah but in my head you’ll always be like my little sister, no matter how much of a brat you are.” He nudged you.

“I hate that word,” you admitted, preparing yourself for flight.

He picked you up bridal style as if you weighed nothing in his arms. You adjusted the fabric so it wouldn’t fly up mid flight. “You know it’s true.” He said, his wings rustling, preparing himself.

You gave him a pointed look, “I’m considering it’s true.” Providing a pinch to his bicep. Without warning he took off into the night sky of Velaris, teasingly loosening his grip on you like he was going to drop you.

“If you keep hurting me, I’ll have to sic my mate on you.” A mischievous glint in his eyes.

“She probably knows you deserve it.” You watched the city below light up under the starry sky.

“Touché,” he smiled. He looked in thought as a silence fell over you two letting you admire Velaris below. You hadn’t had a chance to explore the city since your return, today would’ve been the day if it weren’t for the meeting in the court of nightmares. You could see the rainbow quarters perfectly from above and hear the music in the distance. The stars and moon were close to you as well, the music and being so close the light brought solace to any nerves you may have had. It prickled softly at your skin, seeping into your skin.

“I could guess one person who’ll be excited to see you.” Cassian broke the momentary silence.

“Don’t say his name,” you begged, seeing the angle he was trying to pull.

“Who, Azriel?” He grinned broadly.

“My peace is ruined,” you deadpanned, him chuckling at your disdain.

“Don’t let him being an asshole deter you. He’s been all bent out of shape since your absence. I think he’s just hurt deep down, and those little shadows that are always in his ear when you're around doesn’t help.”

You listened to Cassian ramble, confusion filling you. “You haven’t heard everything he's said to me.”

He relaxed a bit, soaring lower, the familiar townhouse now in your view. “I haven’t heard everything you've said to him either, and I don’t think it’s my business or my right to say anything on the matter given my record. Sometimes you say shit in the heat of the moment, sometimes you say shit to hide what’s actually going on underneath it all. One thing I know whenever it comes to you he’s always all up in arms. Not even Elain can do that to him. I didn’t even see him like that with Mor besides that one time.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, getting ready to land. You gripped his neck tighter, bracing yourself.

“When you’re not annoying, you’re actually wise y’know that?” You were in awe at his words. You weren’t sure how true his interpretation was, but for now it brought you slight comfort and ease about the Azriel situation. He landed with his wings slightly fluttering about, shaking off the wind of the night. He gently set you down, and you tried adjusting yourself now that you were standing. You went to fix the diadem, but Cass pushed your hand away lightly, doing it for you.

“I would hope so, year 600 is creeping up on me fast.”

You laughed softly, “you're about to be an old man.”

“Yeah let’s not talk about that, we’re talking about you remember?” He fixed a loose piece of hair that was out of place. “Try not to let him get to you too much tonight or at least channel it into you being all scary and brooding. I’ve missed you in court, it hasn't been the same.”

“Thank you Cass, and I’m sorry for not visiting.” You said sincerely.

Pulling you into his arms for an embrace, he sighed. “I figured you needed space. There’s nothing wrong with that. Rhys went to the cabin after he came out from under there. You just went to the day court for almost a decade long sabbatical.” He shrugged casually. “You can repay me by training again once you’re settled.” You nodded, pulling away. He wrapped his arm around you, “C’mon we have a party to get to.”

Lucien, Morrigan, and Azriel waited for you two. Azriel was the first to look up at the sound of your heels clicking on floor into the foyer of the townhouse. His hazel eyes darkened, eyebrows slightly narrowing, and jaw clenched at the sight of you. Your heart skipped a beat as his eyes traced your body, lingering at the top of the slits of the gown that could expose your hip bones at any sudden movement, before taking in your bare legs that were accentuated by the uncomfortable heels. You felt a warmth in your core that betrayed any ill feelings towards the spymaster, and you had to take a deep breath to calm yourself. You never knew a look would be able to enthrall you so much and ignite such feelings.

He was in his more formal fighting leathers, muscles at full display even underneath the leather, his hair neatly styled back, sciphons glowing under the light of the common room. He was god-like, you couldn’t deny that. Not rugged looking like Cassian or as regal as Rhys, but he was beautiful. You wanted to be sick at thinking these thoughts. His shadows whispered in his ears as he stared at you. You couldn’t discern the look in his eyes as Mor approached you.

“Oh my, my fathers gonna croak, I love it!” She squealed looking at the patterns on your dress. “But we do have to get going, Y/n winnow Cass?” She looked at the male beside you.

You were about to agree, but Azriel spoke up. “I think I should be with her. Just in case. Amren said they’re possibly at a brink of chaos.” His voice was gravelly, and your heart pounded erratically at the huskiness in his tone.

“O-okay? Cassian, let’s come on then.” She looked at you, your eyes were wide in surprise.

Azriel approached you, and his scent of cedar and mist filled your senses making you want to melt even more. You only cleared your throat, straightening your back as his scarred arm reached around you pulling you closer to him as you got ready to winnow. You could feel the rough pad of his thumb near the top of the slit of your dress making your mind blank. His shadows swirled around your wrists in greeting for the first time since you’ve seen him, and you could feel your cheeks heat up.

Mor and Cassian disappeared along with Lucien right behind them. Azriel’s body heat and movement of his hand on your hip was making you flushed, unable to concentrate. Then his lips were close to your ear and you could feel his cool breath on your neck.

“Whatever happens tonight, don’t take it to heart.” The grip on your hip had tightened, and you could feel the sheath of truth-teller in your lower back.

You looked up to him, even wearing your tallest heels he had towered over you, observing the deadly calm on his face. Your gaze lingered on his lips for a second before flirting back to his intense hazel orbs.

You said barely above a whisper, scared your voice would betray your words. “You forget I’m great at this game, shadowsinger.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

[x] previous chapter [x] next chapter

Aaaaand we’re off to the races besties!! I had so much fun writing this part! I hope you’re excited as I am for the next one!!

Taglist: @tcris2020 @rachelnicolee @thelov3lybookworm @bubybubsters @mich0731 @t0uch-starved-h0e @penguins-are-the-best @justagingerliving @brekkershadowsinger @jiinmii

If I missed any of you just lmk!

#azriel shadowsinger fic #azriel shadowsinger x reader #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #feyre archeron #inner circle fic #nessian #azriel shadowsinger imagine #azriel shadowsinger smut #azriel smut #cassian acotar #pofa #morrigan acotar

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sweetiepoison · 4 months

Text

Famous Baby (Social Media Blurb)

Note: a little sneak peek into the next part 🫣

Liked by yourusername and others

latenightseth: @yourusername and I sat down to recap our day drinking that led to (y/n) having to be carried out. You don’t want to miss it!

Load more comments…

Fan#1: I love how progressively unhinged (y/n) gets during the day drinking segment

Yourusername: Thanks for having me and letting me embarrass myself all over again!

Fan#2: This isn’t an interview, this is two besties debriefing after a wild time out and I’m here for it

Fan#3: The way they have two totally different pov’s. (y/n)’s like “yeah I was fine and then I woke up in my bed” and Seth was like “No you got hammered and had to be carried out.”

Fan#4: The way she talks about her boyfriend, you can tell home girl is in love 😍

Fan#5: Let’s not skip over the fact it was Auston who carried her out of the bar

->Fan#6: And it not being the first time!

->Fan#7: Auston doesn’t even need to workout, carrying (y/n) around is his workout

->Fan#8: You know he stays tossing her around

->Fan#9: Yoo thats crazy to say

->Fan#10: nah it’s valid

Fan#11: Can we circle back around to @yourbff#1 totally calling them out and everyone on set just thinking they were hooking up in the bathroom

->Fan#12: my jaw dropped when Seth threw that in

->Fan#13: and you can tell (y/n) was not expecting that, girly got real giggly

->Fan#14: If Auston was my boyfriend I would be acting the same way

Fan#12: Seth sneaking in all the leafs content, he’s really out here doing God’s work

Fan#13: @yourusername thanks for being like the rest of us and honest. You embraced the embarrassment and totally owned it!

Fan#14: (y/n) casually dropping @stephmarner’s name

Fan#15: on a serious note I just want to say how much I love and respect Seth meyers. He obviously has met her boyfriend and knows who he is, but doesn’t name drop once. This is a hot topic right now so being the first to “find out” and report it would be big, but he isn’t doing that. There were a few suggestive questions, but that kept the segment light and funny! Also he didn’t give out the reason why the interview ended so abruptly and just said (y/n) needed to go home. He allowed her to lead the conversation and share as much or little about both the situation and her boyfriend. All around great conversation with two great people!

->yourusername: THIS ^^^^

Fan#16: THE AIRPLANE QUESTION👀

->fan#17: I nearly choked when he asked that

->Fan#18: So did (y/n)

->Fan#19: LMAO Seth had our girl stressing with some of these questions

Fan#20: I would sell one of my kidney’s to get drunk with @yourusername

->Fan#21: You might need to sell it to her after that segment 💀

Yourbff#1: I’m gonna watch that segment anytime I get hangxiety to feel better about myself

->Yourusername: no need to rewatch it, I’ll reenact it for you in real time

Yourbff#2: (y/n) 🤝 the bar bathroom floor

->Yourusername: I’m screaming stfu😭 my home away from home

Fan#22: Ahh I love (y/n) she’s so unserious

Fan#23: No ones roasting her as much as she’s roasting herself

->Yourbff#2: nah her boyfriend is probs chirping her the hardest

->yourusername: I can confirm he is

->Fan#22: I love this relationship 💙

#famous reader #hockey #maple leafs #nhl blurb #nhl #toronto maple leafs #hockey imagine #celebrity reader #nhl imagine #justin bieber #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews #social media #hockey blurb #blurb

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beamtori · 10 months

Text

𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲

demon (in human form)!ji changmin x afab!reader

it's a silly thing that brings you both to intimacy, but the intimacy is never silly.

3.0k words, smut (minors dni), incredibly soft sex, talks abt sex/dicks lol (if u can't talk abt it, then don't do it!), unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it bro), penetrative sex, fingering, low-key body worship (f.receiving), so much kissing, pet name (sweetheart), mentions of a broken wrist and scars?

a/n: this is an extension to my fic night terrors on my main! there are a couple refs from the fic, but the established dynamic is a huge turnaround for me in terms of writing for changmin if u haven't read night terrors yet LMAO anyways, for me and @mosviqu ily bar!! <3

CHANGMIN HAD GROWN USED TO your random questions of curiosity. There was, after all, so much you didn't know about his world, and for the most part, he was perfectly fine divulging information to you and being honest. He cared about you, after all. Loved you, even. It was just what he felt around and about and for you.

“How do demons have sex?”

He nearly snorted water through his nose.

You glanced over at him innocently from where you were perched on the hotel bed, your phone connected to its charger discarded on the nightstand.

He cleared his throat, capping the water bottle and setting it aside so he wouldn't choke again. “Sorry?” He sputtered, thumping his fist against his chest.

Your eyelashes fluttered and you replied airily, “Do you have sex the way humans do? Like… vaginal penetration or…? Am I making sense? Do you even have a—”

“Yn, I have a dick,” he cut in, then made a face. “Why are we having this conversation again?”

The two of you were holed up in a hotel several hours’ ride from Moonstone Creek. You were currently on your way to meet one of Changmin's clients about a missing lucky witch's cauldron. Instead of shacking up at a motel, you insisted on staying at a nicer hotel for once. Screw saving money this time; your ass deserved a break after sitting in his car for however long. Maybe you should invest in a butt pad…

You shrugged, shifting your position so you sat at the foot of the bed with your feet dangling over the edge. You held your dominant wrist with the other hand—a month had passed since it had been shattered, and though almost completely healed, it was still a little tender. “I was just thinking,” you said. “Is it like a human d—”

“It's a penis, Yn,” he deadpanned. “You've seen one, right?”

Your skin warmed. “Of course, I have,” you sputtered. “I was just curious about your—” You stopped yourself. “That sounds wrong.”

Changmin arched a brow at you, braiding his arms over his chest as he leaned against the table across from you. “Supernatural creatures do have needs, too, you know. Sex isn't just a human thing.”

“I know that,” you shot back. Sex definitely wasn't exclusive to humans. “When was the last time you had sex?"

“I don't understand where this is coming from.”

“Are you a virgin?”

A laugh bubbled out of his mouth. “I think it's impossible for a demon to be a virgin in any sense,” he said, head tilted to the side, tongue tracing his slight smile. It was funny for him to think about, really.

His eyes fixated on you again. “Are you a virgin?”

“Me? No.” Even when you were working your ass off for your accounting degree, you managed to find time to socialize with somebody. It hadn't been that special, really, but the guy had been decent and not an asshole. By your limited scope, that was as okay a time as any.

The room descended into silence.

You could tell he was thinking about something with the crease between his brows and the muscle in his jaw twitching. You didn't know what it was, but you could read that much.

“So why haven't we had sex yet?” was the question that popped out of your mouth next. It wasn't necessarily directed for him to answer; it was more so a… thinking-aloud situation… right…

But by the surprise that flickered across his face, he was going to answer it anyway. “I—I don't know. I guess…” He scratched the side of his head. “I never really thought about it.”

“Oh.”

You could see the regret as soon as he said it.

He brushed a hand through his hair, stepping over to you and kneeling in front of you. His eyes fluttered closed for a second before opening again. “I didn't mean it—like that. I just mean that so much has happened that it's the last thing on my mind. I didn't want it to come off like I only wanted that from you.”

“I know you don't,” you said, leaning onto your knees to lower your face slightly toward his. “But we both have needs, don't we?”

“Are you saying you're in the mood?” He asked.

“I mean—I was looking out for both of us.” You sat up again, leaning back onto your hands, putting more emphasis on your nondominant one. He followed you up and stood between your legs, knee pressing down onto the mattress to lean over you and collect you in his arms.

You both tumbled onto the sheets, your face pressed to his chest and his chin tucked over your head, legs tangled together. “I don't know,” you muttered, “it's been a good month, and I guess I was just…” Insecure. “I’m being ridiculous though,” you laughed the thought away, “every couple goes at their own pace.”

His fingers grasped your chin and pulled your eyes to meet his. The eye contact was strangely intimate with him as it always was. “Yn,” he said lowly, “you’re not being ridiculous.”

He rolled his body over yours, arms bracketed around your head with your noses a breath apart. “Can I kiss you?” He asked in earnest, searching your face.

You nodded, eyes wide. “Yes.”

His hand curled around the back of your head as he lowered his mouth over yours. Your nose slotted beside his, and you raised your upper body to hold onto him and press yourself all the more close. You sighed, his tongue pressing into your mouth to deepen the kiss.

There had been a few other times you'd kissed before. There was no rush with this one. He took his sweet time with you, kissing you languidly, devouring you whole. His limbs wrapped around you like a python so you were unable to leave his grasp—as if you wanted to.

When you broke apart, you were flushed and his breathing was heavy. He brushed the hair from your face, your eyes glazed as you stared up at him. “I've never been intimate with someone I care so much about,” he confessed, his voice gravelly from the kiss. Your lips parted for his thumb as he dragged it over your bottom lip.

“Me neither,” you told him. You reached up to run your hand through his hair. “Is it scary?”

“The way I feel about you?” He wrestled down a swallow. “I'm terrified.” Terrified to break you, to lose you, to hurt you. Everything in between.

It wasn't always that you were given the privilege of seeing him so open and vulnerable. He had slowly become better around you, especially around you, but there was still a few things you had to get past. It was okay though; he just needed time. That much you understood. This was new to you, too.

“I'm nervous,” you admitted quietly, “but I trust you.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed. “I trust you, too.”

Changmin brought his lips to the corner of your mouth, then to the underside of your jaw. Your fingers buried themselves into his hair as he trailed his lips down the column of your neck as if to taste every inch of your skin.

Your heart palpitated in your chest and you held him close, neck craned to encourage him. A moan slipped from your mouth when you felt his teeth graze your pulse. The rough pad of his tongue swiped over the mark he left.

It was strange to think of how trust and love worked. It would be so easy to rip your throat out, but instead, he was here kissing you.

His fingers danced along the bottom hem of your shirt in silent question, and you guided his hand beneath the fabric and along your bare skin. You shuddered as his fingers trailed up your side and reached the edge of your bra.

He raised his lips up to meet yours again, eyes half lidded.

Your shirt came up and over your head, bra clasp unsnapping behind your body until your top half was bare before him.

And he looked at you under him with an expression you couldn't discern immediately. It was that thing he always did, the look he had in his eyes when he stared at you, but this time felt slightly different.

You shied away into yourself, one of your arms coming to lie across your chest. “What?” You let out a small laugh.

He swallowed, meeting your eyes. “I…” Changmin took your arm and brought your once-shattered wrist to his mouth. He pinned your arm above your head then, so he could see you. “Nothing, I just—you’re beautiful.”

Your resolve softened. “You can touch me.”

He kissed you again then, softly, one palm enclosing around your left breast. You shivered, your heart throwing itself up against its confines so it might reach the hand it wanted to be held in.

Changmin rolled one perked nipple between his fingers and you arched your chest up into his hand.

“I never say it—” He said, tongue swiping over your lips again for any and every taste of you, “—as much as you deserve to hear it.”

His lips met your pulse again, mouth trailing down your clavicle, to the pendant resting on your sternum. The pulsing of the scarlet mirrored your own racing heartbeat and gave your state of mind clean away. Every touch of his lips, lap of his tongue, nip of his teeth along your skin felt like he was tracing your outline and committing you to memory. Every inch of you, loved and worshiped and acknowledged. Not his to own, but his to cherish.

Changmin's shirt came off next, exposing a toned upper body marked in faded white scars here and there. Oh, to kiss each mark upon his body—an endeavor for another time. The twin to your necklace swung over you from around his neck as he returned himself to your embrace.

“You're beautiful, too—d’you know that?” You murmured to him between the breaths between kisses.

“Only if you show me.”

You smiled against his mouth. “Deal.”

You felt his mouth curl up in a similar gesture, his arms wrapping around your waist and pressing the length of his body against yours. His weight was a comfort, kissing him was a dream.

Changmin tugged the waistline of your pants down, fingers hooking in the elastic of your underwear, then pausing. “This okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, and you helped kick your bottoms off and away. He was swift to follow suit, the belt of his buckle clinking together as he slid it off, then his jeans, and boxers. You could see the outline of his cock strain through the fabric before his aching, reddened length slapped against his lower stomach.

“Would it ruin the mood if I said that probably isn't what your demon form dick looks like?” You asked cheekily as he clambered back over you.

Changmin rolled his eyes. “I'm tryna be romantic and all you can talk about is—mmmph!”

You silenced him by dragging his mouth back down to yours. He melted into you, weaving his hand between your bodies so he could drag his fingers through your lower lips. You jolted at the feeling, your hips twitching in his direction in a silent plea.

He groaned low into your mouth, withdrawing as he circled his fingers through your arousal. “Is this all for me?” He asked, dipping a finger into your cunt. His thumb drew dizzying circles into your clit, and you swore you saw stars.

“Yeah, 's all for you,” you exhaled, earning you a searing kiss as he swallowed those words.

You pushed your hips against his hand, a pair of his thick fingers filling you up and curling against the sweet, gummy spot of your inner walls. It was as if he knew exactly where to find it, and knew exactly how much pressure would make you rocket up toward white-hot bliss.

You whimpered against his mouth as the tension in the pit of your stomach wound up tightly. “Changmin—”

“You close, sweetheart? Wanna see how pretty you look when you come.”

His thumb branded your clit with his fingerprint and drove you to insanity. Blood rushed in your ears, head spinning as he helped you over that crest. You cried out as you crashed and the steady pumping of his fingers coaxed you through it. Your fingers dug into the muscle of his shoulders, grounding you as your legs shook and toes curled.

His fingers maintained their steady pace as you came down from the high. You imagined you looked like something of a hot mess beneath him, but when your eyes fluttered up to meet his, you were struck by the tenderness in those dark irises.

When you could breathe evenly, he withdrew his fingers and collected your come to thumb over the pearl beaded at the tip of his cock. “Are you—was that okay?” He asked, his free hand thumbing your cheek. You saw his jaw twitch as he pumped his cock with his other hand, slickened with both of your arousal.

You gave a breathy laugh, and he nearly stopped at the sight of your smile. “Okay? That was—that was more than okay,” you said. “Ji Changmin, come here. Let me kiss you.”

It was something in the way he crushed his mouth against yours this time, one hand cradling the side of your face like you were all he ever wanted—the other coming up to grasp your side—that had your stomach doing flips. And if actions spoke louder than words, you wanted to believe that he was yelling them at you now. If he couldn't bring himself to scream them from the top of a building, this would be enough.

Your nose gently bumped against his. “Can I do something for you?”

He replied lowly between kisses, “Another time. Just… let me do this for you. It'll be enough for me.”

You melted in his hold, as if he didn't make you a fuzzy-chested, dizzy-headed mess all the time.

You felt him nudge your opening, and you locked your hands around his neck. Slowly, you felt a delicious stretch as he pushed into you. Changmin groaned into your neck, the sound making you arch yourself into him further. His voice alone sent you careening toward your own climax, it was so sensual.

Once he sat in you to the hilt, hips locked against hips, he lingered to give you a moment to get comfortable. The girth of him filled you up delectably, the pain only the undertone to pleasure.

He raised his head out of the crook of your neck. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah—” you nodded, “—I’m good.”

He returned the gesture, biting his lip, then swooping down to kiss you again. “You're doing so well for me,” he murmured. “So warm, so tight. Fuck, you feel divine.”

He pulled himself out slightly, then gave an experimental thrust of his hips. Your hold tightened around him, a moan slipping from your lips. He held you as he continued this motion, a steady and strong rocking of his hips against yours, cock dragging along your walls in confident strokes.

He tucked his head back into your shoulder, lips pressing open mouthed kisses to your hot skin. You could feel the dampness between your thighs dribble down your legs, and you were gradually clambering back onto that hill with your stomach twisting in pleasure.

His labored breathing filled your ear, followed by his mouth—marks lovingly pressed into your flesh and whispered in your ear. You locked a leg around his slim waist and met his thrusts, the pacing quickening slightly as you both began approaching your highs.

Your voice came out choked and desperate. “Changmin, I'm…”

“Yeah, sweetheart; I got you.” Changmin pushed himself back up to hover over you for the last few thrusts, his lips pressed together tightly and sweat dripping down the slope of his nose. He slipped a hand between your bodies again and worked at your nub—and it was all you needed to be pushed over that edge again.

You cried out his name, fingernails burying themselves in his shoulders. You clenched down hard around him, breathing hard and ragged.

You thought you heard him groan out your name as his hips stilled and he came. You exhaled heavily, his body wrapping around yours again while you both caught your breath and descended from bliss.

He left a kiss just below your ear and you cupped the back of his head and shoulders to your body. “Fuck me,” he muttered, rolling your bodies to the side, legs sticky and tangled together.

“Didn't I just do that?” You mused.

He chuckled, moving his head to bump his nose against yours. “Yeah, guess so.” Changmin gazed at you then, eyes searching and searching and searching. You never asked what he was looking for; you always figured he'd one day be able to tell you.

He licked his lips and a crease formed between his brows. “Yn… Yn, I…”

The voice inside his throat remained trapped, the words on his tongue froze. You looked up at him, glassy-eyed and patient, the tilt of your lips so sweet and terribly beautiful. He'd never been at such a loss for words.

You moved forward to press a kiss to his mouth. “I know,” you said. Even if he couldn't say it yet, you always knew.

He swallowed, a moment of silence falling between the two of you. His heart careened against his chest, and he was sure if the amulet he wore now had his blood running through it, the damn thing would pound away like a galloping horse.

He wondered how he got so lucky.

But though he couldn't express it in words, he would always find a different way to reassure you that he felt the same. Changmin leaned forward and wordlessly captured your lips again, rolling you onto your back and pressing every last word he hadn't the guts to say into this searing kiss.

I love you, I adore you. Thank you. Be mine, in life and death; mortally and immortally. Every promise, he would strive to keep.

a/n: at one point, yes, i will write abt sex in his demon form LMAO what did u expect from me 🤣 anyways, this turned out to be around the length of an actual chapter of nt haha

m.list

#the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #ji changmin x reader #changmin x reader #ji changmin smut #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #the boyz drabbles #the boyz oneshot #ji changmin oneshot #ji changmin imagines #ji changmin scenarios #ji changmin drabbles

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honeyhae-svt · 22 days

Text

On My Command

SEVENTEEN FANFICTION (SERIES)

AFAB!READER x SEVENTEEN - MNID!!!

GENRE: Mafia, Businesses, Dark Romance, Smut, Gangs, RomCom, Action, Fem!Reader x Mafia!Seventeen, Baddie!Reader x Businessmen!Seventeen

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️: (LOL for this chapter it doesn't have explicit scenes but overall, it does, so yeah, mdni) Gunshots, Blood, Language, Manipulation, Fighting, Action. -warnings for this chapter

♡-Mention of other groups like TXT, EXO, ENHA, G-IDLE, LE SSERA, NCT DREAM, RIIZE (THIS IS A SERIES SO IG I WILL BE ADDING MORE TO THAN THESE WARNINGS) - MDNI OR I WILL BLOCK THOSE WITHOUT AGE INDICATOR ON BIO.

READER IS NAMED LI MEI QIANG!!!

>>>> IMAGES ARE FROM PINTEREST so yeah, ctto. Also, there will be a 1st person POV 'cause I like starting from Y/N's POV at every story I make. Lmao. Enjoy babies. ♡

On My Command - Masterlist (Chapters)

CHAPTER 1

First Person POV: ☆

I was just persuading a customer to buy one of the newly released beauty products from the store I worked at—'Jayeonmi,' which meant 'Natural Beauty.' Seriously, who names their store like that?

As I expertly explained the benefits of our top-tier concealer, I didn’t even stutter, maintaining the calm, professional demeanor that made me the best salesperson they had.

But just as I was about to close the sale, a commotion at the counter grabbed my attention. Instinctively, I pulled the customer down, shielding her with my body. My eyes darted to the source of the noise—a masked man holding a gun, pointed directly at Yuqi, my co-worker and close friend, who was manning the cashier.

"Give me all the money you have and put it in this bag!" the man barked, tossing the bag at Yuqi.

Great. We didn’t even have any security today since the store is practically bankrupt. Honestly, this was bound to happen sooner or later.

I sighed, releasing the terrified customer from my hold and motioning for her to get out while she still could. Once she was safe, I rose from the floor and started toward the man, moving slowly. He noticed me almost immediately, his gun shifting to track my movement.

"You! Stop right there!" he commanded, his voice edged with panic.

I raised my hands, but kept walking. "Don't worry," I said with a calm, almost teasing smile. "I’m not going to hurt you."

He flinched at my words, clearly unnerved. His grip on the gun faltered as he locked eyes with me, momentarily distracted by my steady gaze. In that split second, I closed the distance between us, my smirk widening. I knew my calm demeanor might have unsettled him. His distraction gave me the chance to close the distance between us. Just then, the door flung open and my idiot friend, Beomgyu, burst in. Perfect timing, as always. The masked man’s attention shifted to Beomgyu, freezing him in place.

Without hesitation, I yanked the gun from his hand and delivered a swift punch to his face, sending him crashing to the floor. I stood over him, the gun now pointed down at his bleeding nose.

"You should've paid more attention to me, darling," I sneered, the smirk never leaving my face. The punch hadn’t even been that hard. Pathetic.

Yuqi immediately called the cops, and it wasn’t long before they arrived to haul the guy away. Turned out, he’d been pulling stunts like this all over the city. As they cuffed him, Yuqi ran over and hugged me from behind, nearly choking me with her enthusiasm.

"Oh my gosh, Unnie, you were so cool!" she squealed, clinging to me like I’d just saved her from certain death. I rolled my eyes, patting her head.

"I know, I know. I’m awesome," I replied, a smug grin plastered on my face. Yuqi was Chinese too, so we often slipped into our native language when we spoke, though her excitement made her Korean slip out.

And then Beomgyu—ever the idiot—decided to smack me upside the head. "What the hell were you thinking? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!" he scolded, crossing his arms as if he were my mother.

I shot him a death glare. "What’s the smack for, you bitch—" I caught myself as I noticed Yuqi still clinging to me, and I forced myself to calm down.

“I’m not a bitch, dumbass,” he replied, crossing his arms. I turned my attention to the chaotic aftermath of the incident. Products were scattered, and I suspected some customers might have taken advantage of the situation to steal.

After we tidied up, I went straight to the CCTV room to confirm my suspicions. Sure enough, two girls who looked like students had swiped a bunch of products before bolting during the commotion.

“Those rats. If I ever see them in this store again, I’ll make sure they regret it,” I muttered to myself, fists clenched in anger. It wasn’t even about the store—it was the thought of those stolen items coming out of our paychecks. That greedy owner was already squeezing us dry. Damn greedy manager.

I’m Li Mei Qiang, a Chinese expatriate living in Korea since I was six. Raised by someone I consider a brother, Lee Heeseung, people often mistake us for real siblings because our surnames sound similar.

At 25, my life is a mix of the mundane and the peaceful. Despite knowing a lot about psychology—skills that make me an exceptional salesperson—here I am, working at a bankrupt store for a meager salary of 3,250,000 won (about 4,167 USD).

Events like today’s excite me, though I’m not sure why. I suppose it’s the thrill of disruption that keeps me on edge.

As I waited for my shift to end, Beomgyu tapped my shoulder and pointed to the entrance. I looked up to see Heeseung, who had come to pick me up. I nodded and signaled him to wait while I changed into my casual outfit.

“I’m heading out now. See you tomorrow,” I told Yuqi and Beomgyu before walking outside. Heeseung handed me a helmet, and I hopped onto his motorbike.

As we rode, I stared blankly into the distance until Heeseung broke the silence. “So, I heard you caused quite a ruckus today.”

I frowned at his words. “I didn’t cause it. I saved everyone’s lives,” I replied, my tone defensive. “You still risked your life. What if you’d been shot? The guy had a gun,” Heeseung countered.

I rolled my eyes. “Doubt my abilities if you want. That guy was so weak he went down with one punch. Why would he even attempt to steal when he’s that pathetic? He should’ve just—” I trailed off as Heeseung gave me a stern look. I fell silent, knowing I had gone too far.

When the light turned green, Heeseung drove off again, and the rest of the ride was spent in silence. He didn’t like it when I went on rants, especially when I didn’t hold back.

We reached our apartment complex, and Heeseung parked the bike. As we walked toward the elevator, Heeseung mentioned, “Mr. Ahn from next door has gone missing.”

I was taken aback. “Mr. Ahn? The kind old man who used to give us fruits and sweets?” I asked.

“Yeah, he was last seen near his workplace, and now he’s missing,” Heeseung confirmed.

I sighed, feeling a pang of sadness. It was cruel how the world could be so unjust. My frustration was palpable.

The elevator arrived, and a man in a black mask and cap exited. Heeseung and I exchanged a brief, uneasy glance as we entered the elevator. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about him.

Once we reached our floor, I unlocked the door and headed to the bathroom to freshen up before collapsing onto my bed.

Heeseung opened the door to check on me. “Aren’t you going to eat anything before bed? You haven’t eaten since this morning.”

I groaned, irritated. “Can’t you knock?”

“This is my apartment, in case you forgot,” he said.

“Whatever. I’m too tired to eat,” I replied, closing my eyes. Heeseung hummed in response and closed the door.

In truth, I didn’t want to eat because I wanted to maintain my slim ass figure. Besides, I was too lazy to get up. Beauty standards here are no joke, but I care more about my own perception of myself.

Authors POV: ☆ (the rest will be on a/pov)

A man sat casually atop a dying body, using it as a makeshift seat, savoring the torment of his victim. The dying man on the floor groaned in pain, clutching at the knife buried deep in his stomach, blood pooling around him. The man sitting above him leaned forward, a sadistic smirk playing on his lips as he watched his victim struggle.

"Now, tell me," the man said, his tone almost gentle, "who do you work for?" He stood up and sauntered over, gripping the knife’s handle. With a sickening twist, he drove the blade deeper, eliciting a scream from the man on the floor.

"Just kill him already, hyung," came a voice from behind, impatient and indifferent, making the seated man sigh in irritation. "This is the last one who might have information," he replied, his patience wearing thin. "I know, but this guy won’t even open his mouth," the second man retorted, pulling a gun from his side pocket and aiming it at the injured man. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger, and the gunshot rang out. The man on the floor went silent.

The first man's eyes shot toward the second man, piercing through him with frustration. "What the fuck, Seungkwan? We needed him alive."

Seungkwan shrugged. "He wasn’t saying anything useful. We can’t waste time on these lowlifes." he shrugged nonchalantly before walking out of the room.

Boo Seungkwan was a member of Seventeen, a powerful gang hidden beneath the surface of a thriving business empire. Known for his sharp wit and quicker trigger, Seungkwan often acted without waiting for permission—an attitude that earned him both respect and frustration from his peers. In the gang, he handled fieldwork with brutal efficiency, while in the legitimate world, he was a key player in marketing and production.

The first man also exited the room as they then took the stairs to head down. A car was already parked in front of the building and the two headed inside. Seungkwan took a sigh at the events that just occured, obviously, they failed to get the information they needed.

"Wonwoo hyung... Boss will really be mad at us. We killed a bunch of people and didn't even get any information," Seungkwan says while the other man just massaged his temples as he was still feeling annoyed and frustrated at the same time.

Jeon Wonwoo, another member of Seventeen, was known for his ruthless efficiency in punishment and torture. His poor eyesight required him to wear glasses or lenses during missions. Although he was typically exceptional at his job, today’s failure had left him exasperated. In their organization, he was responsible for planning and product releases.

The two men exited the building and climbed into a waiting car, joining their comrades. Wonwoo leaned back in his seat, frustration etched into his features. Seungkwan clicked his seatbelt and glanced at the driver, Mingyu, who was grinning as he watched the interaction through the rearview mirror.

"Wow, our genius Wonwoo failed to get information from a half-dead guy?" Mingyu teased, unable to hide his amusement.

"Shut up, Mingyu. You did nothing but drive this whole mission," Wonwoo snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

Wonwoo sank into the front seat of the car, still fuming. The voice of a team member came through their earpieces, "All four of you, return to headquarters immediately." The message ended abruptly.

Kim Mingyu, with his tall frame and undeniable charm, was often the face of Seventeen's business dealings. His easygoing nature masked a cunning mind, and his role as a driver during missions belied his true value—wooing investors and manipulating deals with a smile. Despite his flirtatious ways and playful demeanor, he was fiercely loyal to his gang, earning him the nickname "Seventeen's puppy."

The car ride continued in tense silence until the fourth member of the group, Hoshi, spoke up from the backseat. "Mingyu, can you drive any slower? At this rate, we’ll be old by the time we get back," he whined, not looking up from his laptop.

"Oh, shut up. I’m driving safely," Mingyu retorted, rolling his eyes. "Do you guys want to crash and die?"

"You did hack the building's security cameras, right?" Seungkwan asked, eyeing Hoshi’s laptop skeptically."Of course," Hoshi replied with a dismissive wave. "I hacked everything before we even got there. You guys seriously doubt me too much."

Kwon Soonyoung, better known as Hoshi, was Seventeen's resident tech genius. His hacking skills were legendary, both within the gang and their legitimate business operations. Whether it was disabling security systems or siphoning data from competitors, Hoshi's fingers on a keyboard were as deadly as Seungkwan’s on a trigger. Despite his cheerful persona, he had a sharp mind that always seemed three steps ahead.

Arriving at their headquarters, the team headed straight to the meeting room. Nine familiar figures were already seated, leaving only the four of them to arrive.

The leader, a commanding presence with an intimidating aura, addressed Wonwoo directly. "No information at all?"

The leader sighed, clearly disappointed. "This was our second attempt, and we’ve come up empty-handed again. Jeonghan, Joshua, Woozi, Seokmin—you’ll handle the next phase. We need results this time."

The mentioned four nodded in agreement. "I expect better results from you. Don’t let me down," the leader said before exiting the room, escorted by a guard.

"Let’s start planning immediately," one of the team members said as he stood up to leave, followed by the others.

The team knew they had to regroup and strategize quickly to meet their leader’s expectations and overcome their recent failures.

Yoon Jeonghan, seventeen’s second-in-command. A devil disguised as an angel. His soft voice and mesmerising beauty makes people feel drawn to him. was a master of strategy and manipulation. His angelic appearance belied a ruthless nature. He excelled in both business and planning, contributing significantly to their operations.

Hong Joshua, almost a mirror image of Jeonghan, handled meetings and strategic planning with equal prowess. His gentle demeanor masked a calculating mind capable of cruelty when necessary. Don't be fooled by his gentle-like voice and gestures, he can turn into the devil any time.

Lee Jihoon a.k.a. Woozi, was their resident medical expert and a jack-of-all-trades. The hacker, producer and planner of the group. His skills spanned planning, marketing, production, and medicine, making him an invaluable member of Seventeen.

Deokyeom or Lee Seokmin, the sunshine that can be dim any time. He is known for his shooting skills as he never misses a shot, from bows and arrows to riffles. His shooting skills were unparalleled, and while he contributed to the marketing team, his primary role involved handling the more dangerous aspects of their operations.

~~~You've reached the end. Wait for Chap 2 ;)

On My Command - Masterlist

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