#imagine me biting my tongue so hard because i’m not allowed to explain things like this for fear of looking condescending

[aritany]

thinking about the industry professional i encountered who went IN on my writing because i had a “problem” with telling and not showing.

boggled my mind and confused me because passages they would point out seemed fine to me and i really have worked on showing over telling since i started writing. we went back and forth on this for months and i got increasingly more and more confused.

anyway, after a spectacularly bewildering exchange where they said to me “‘scowling’ is telling” i eventually realized that this publishing industry professional had just invented their own definition for the phrase “show don’t tell”. their version of ‘telling’ highlighted any time i didn’t go into descriptive detail in a moment where i could have (and in their opinion should have) done so.

it had nothing to do with the actual definition of “show don’t tell”. i could have a paragraph filled with nothing but action beats and the character’s internal reactions in the moment and i would get it highlighted and sent back with “too telly”. what they meant was “go into more detail here”.

i think about this every single day. there’s no moral to this story. i just. 🫡

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Calling Out For Her

Cassandra Dimitrescu x She/Her Reader

A/N: Cassandra is my favorite I just love that girl. I thought it was real neat that Lady D could just call out for her and she’d appear so that inspired this. Some typical resident evil violence and language in here and Cassandra isn’t exactly nice at first, but she figures out how to be personable...kinda. Thanks for reading! Word Count: 6,158

(Y/n) was exceptionally careful. If tasked to understand what had allowed her to survive in the castle for so long, she would say it was because she was so careful, meticulous, with her work. All she had to do was follow a certain set of rules.

A polite tone brimming with reverence, ‘Yes Lady Dimitrescu’ or, ‘yes ladies Bela, Cassandra and Daniela’. Never a no, even if warranted, unless you want your eyes level with your toes and cool air meeting your stump of a neck. Always serve with a curtsy, never meet their eyes, never ask questions, keep your head down and clean, clean, clean like your life depends on it because like with everything else, it does.

The bottom line was that (Y/n) knew how to survive in the castle of Dimitrescu. It took tact, forward thinking, and a bit of luck. But today, after a very respectable nine months of service, (Y/n)’s luck had apparently run out. She had royally fucked up.

“Oh, fuck me—!“ (Y/n) hissed, followed by a sharp gasp as her grip slipped because of the dip of the chandelier.

She had no one to blame but herself. She had been assigned to clean the banisters and chandeliers of the foyer and had leaned out just a little too far with her duster. Thus, her scramble for purchase on the confounding light fixture to save her from cracking her skull on the marble floor below.

“H...help!” (Y/n) called, barely above her usual speaking tone. She dared not speak louder for fear of alerting any of the bloodthirsty daughters of her predicament. She could only hope one of her fellow maids was working nearby.

“No, nonono—“ the words left (Y/n)’s  mouth faster than her lips could move. One of the metal weldings that held up the chandelier was creaking and becoming dangerously loose as time ticked by.

“Help!” (Y/n) called a little louder, the desperation bleeding into her tone as her fingers dug painfully into the decorative, jewel encrusted rim of the chandelier.

Yet still not a sound besides the creak of old metal giving way. Nine months of service to the Lady of the Castle and this was never how (Y/n) imagined she’d go. It wasn’t uncommon for some maids to take their life by their own hand, but (Y/n) wanted to keep fighting—!

“Ah!” (Y/n) cried sharply. The chandelier’s tether frayed a bit further, causing it to drop a few inches. She was fully panicking now, arms aching and chest heaving as she dangled. She made the mistake of looking at the cold, hard floor below and that only made her heart beat faster. She didn’t want to go out like this!

The chandelier fell another inch, stinging (Y/n)’s fingers. She was gripping so hard she was sure her fingers must have been bleeding. She needed someone, anyone to come and somehow in her panicked state, she thought of her Lady. If her Lady needed something done and done fast, all she had to do was call out her name and she would be there in an instant. Somehow in (Y/n)’s desperate mind, she thought that calling upon the most ruthless of the Dimitrescu Family was her best course of action.

“Cassandra!” (Y/n) yelled, closing her eyes tightly and fighting to maintain her precarious grip.

For a few seconds, there was just the creaking the chandelier and (Y/n) didn’t know whether to be relieved or devastated by the silence. Before she could resign herself to her fate, a faint buzzing could be heard below, growing in intensity until (Y/n) could see the swarm of blowflies collecting below her until they completely formed the middle Dimitrescu daughter. She looked up at (Y/n) with a sneer on her blood stained lips.

“Well, well, well. I must say that this is a first for me.” Cassandra hummed, a fist over her hip as she craned her head up, twisting this way and that to really get a good look. Yes, a maid hanging from a chandelier must have been a novelty to the monstrous woman indeed.

“Just how did you get into this predicament little mouse? Perhaps you are more of a monkey, hmm?” Cassandra giggled sadistically before idly licking the blood from her lips, smearing it around more than anything.

“I leaned too far over the banister while I was dusting.” (Y/n) explained through clenched teeth, trying to maintain her aching grip.

“Mmm, how clumsy of you.” Cassandra laughed again, moving her arms to rest across her chest, she propped her chin up in her gloved hand as she regarded (Y/n) with glee. “You know, I was going to skin you alive. You had called me away from cellar time after all, new arrivals are always the most fun to break. Not to mention that you, some lowly maid, think that I, a noblewoman of the House, am at your beck and call. Yes, I was going to kill you myself but now I’m curious,” Cassandra’s smirk widened to a full blown maniacal grin, “what will give out first? Your arms, or the chandelier?”

“Lady Cassandra, please!” (Y/n) wasn’t sure where she thought pleading would get her, but people will do all kinds of things they wouldn’t normally do under duress. Including begging a known sadistic killer to save them from certain death.

“Oh, she remembers her manners!” Cassandra mocked, “Do me a favor and just fall already. I fear I might be developing a crick in my neck.”

(Y/n) could feel the heat of incoming tears sting her eyes as she dangled several feet above her one woman audience. Well, no one could say she didn’t try. She started mumbling a little prayer for herself that turned into a yelp as the chandelier fell another half a foot, a much larger drop than the occasional two to three inches. The sudden gravity shift yanked (Y/n)’s hands clean off the chandelier, slicing her skin terribly as she tried to grab back on. She missed, she was falling.

(Y/n) couldn’t even scream, she just closed her eyes as tightly as she could and waited to meet the ground... speaking of which, shouldn’t she have hit it already?

(Y/n) peeled open an eye and slowly allowed herself to finally take in the buzzing that was surrounding her. Blowflies. She peered down past the swarm to see Cassandra, half formed with her arms outstretched, ready to receive her. (Y/n) could only stare, mouth slightly agape, as she was settled in Cassandra’s arms, watching the blowflies that had carried her mesh back into Cassandra’s legs.

“Why so surprised?” Cassandra asked with a mock sweetness that made (Y/n) shiver, “I simply couldn’t let you die just yet. No, I think I’d like to play with you just a little while longer.”

Cassandra happened to glance at the bloody hands clutched tightly to the maid’s chest and hummed. Adjusting her strong hold on the paralyzed maiden, she clutched the outermost wrist tightly and pulled it to her bloodied lips for a sample.

“Mm,” Cassandra appraised, passing her tongue over the cuts again, “yes, I think I’ll enjoy taking my time with you.” She cackled before unceremoniously dropping (Y/n) to the floor at a much safer, but still painful height.

“Go patch yourself up, my prey. You’re dismissed.” She said and then, she dispersed into a swarm of blowflies and was gone, her laughter bouncing off of the high ceilings.

(Y/n) sat on the floor dumbstruck, before finally getting up on shaky legs. She made her way to the maid’s quarters and upon seeing that it was empty, she allowed herself to cry as she cleaned and dressed her fingers. Lady Cassandra had saved her, saved her for a worse fate by her own hand no doubt. All she could do was wait.

***

Cassandra was a menace.

After the chandelier incident, (Y/n) found herself assigned to areas of the castle that Cassandra was known to frequent. There was never a minute’s rest when the middle child was free from her mother and sisters and even if Cassandra was occupied, (Y/n) often found herself nipped by the occasional stray blowfly as she did her work. There was no question in her mind where they had come from.

Yes, having caught Lady Cassandra’s eye had created a lot of extra work for the poor girl with extra antagonism. She’d poke and prod and pull, jostling (Y/n) around while she tried to stay on task. She would drag bloodied bodies through the carpeted halls (Y/n) had just cleaned and laugh as the poor maid went to restock her cleaning supplies. Cassandra would even demand (Y/n) drop everything to run her baths when she had grow tired of running around with blood smeared all over her like a toddler left alone with finger paints. She’d smugly present her bloodied face to (Y/n), silently demanding she wipe it clean for her and when she was satisfied, she would lean back in her tub and order (Y/n) to clean the bloodied weapons she’d drop dangerously close to her feet.  

Cassandra was insufferable, yet, (Y/n) couldn’t help but think positively because it could have easily been much worse. For as taxing as dealing with Cassandra could be, she had never hurt her, not really anyway. Not like the poor maid who went to clean the armory and left with one less arm than she went in with. The occasional bite of a blowfly stung and the shoves and pinches could be bruising, but at least she still had all her limbs, no broken bones or sickle scars puckering her skin.

(Y/n) sighed to herself as she polished the same battle axe for the third time that week. She was the only maid allowed to clean the armory anymore after Bianca lost her arm. Lady Cassandra had said that only (Y/n) knew how to clean her toys with proper care and could make them twice as shiny and sharp. A few of the other maids would darkly joke with (Y/n) in the serving quarters about the middle Dimitrescu having a crush on her, but (Y/n) would simply dismiss their gossip and continue her work without complaint. Such rumors could be dangerous after all.

As (Y/n) heaved the axe back into its place on the wall, she heard the thrum of quick light feet running across the carpeted hall just outside. She frowned to herself, but kept working. Assuming it was just just another poor girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. However the door the the armory clicked open, and the slightly out of breath maid (Y/n) recognized as Moiara peaked in, flushed from all her running no doubt.

“Lady Dimitrescu is ordering all of the maids back to their quarters immediately.” The girl urgently informed.

“Whatever for?” (Y/n) asked, brows furrowed in concern. It was a most unusual order.

“Apparently a pack of Moroaica have escaped the cellar and are currently roaming the castle. The Lady’s daughters are hunting them down, but it could take some time to clear everything up. Lady Dimitrescu doesn’t wish to lose more workers than she can replace.” Moiara explained, albeit the last line came out a touch bitterly.

“I understand, I’ll make my way now. Be safe.”

“Thank you.” Moiara nodded before darting off again.

(Y/n) cautiously made her way to the door and peered down both ends of the hallway. Noting that it was clear, she left the doorway and shut the armory door before quickly walking in the direction of the maid’s quarters. It was quite a walk and (Y/n)’s heart went out to Moiara and the rest of the girls who were still scattered further within the castle’s walls.

The halls were eerily quiet and empty, not unusual, but with the added threat lurking, well, it made it a tad more unsettling. It was laughable really, for (Y/n) to be afraid now. The threat of death loomed over her head constantly and only now she was concerned?

(Y/n) chuckled despite herself as she rounded another bend, hardly checking her surroundings as she crossed the third hallway and then the fourth.

“Oh!” (Y/n) tripped on a raised wrinkle in the rug, her hand automatically grasped the curtain beside her to steady herself. She was lucky it didn’t rip or surely the Lady of the House would have her head, never mind the Moroaica.

As she made to steady herself on her own two feet again, the curtain she had grasped twisted harshly and was ripped from her surprised and slackened grip. (Y/n) felt her blood run cold and her feet turn to lead as the ‘curtain’ reached out for her, revealing rotten, gnarled fingers that snapped (Y/n)’s bicep in a firm squeeze. As it completed its turn, (Y/n) saw scraggly, yellowed teeth lunge for her neck.

She attempted to keep the stray Moroaica at bay. The whole interaction, frightening and life threatening as it was, was a near silent struggle. It was as if (Y/n) had lost her voice completely. All that came from her were stuttering gasps as the creature snarled and snapped at her.

It wrestled her to the floor and clawed at her clothes and skin, drawing the blood that it seemed to desperately crave. (Y/n) struggled and kicked at the creature but it was unrelenting and finally something happened that helped (Y/n) find her voice, she screamed.

The Moroaica clawed at her ribs, tearing fabric, skin and muscle alike. (Y/n)’s fighting grew weaker the more the monster dug at her and her mouth was still parted from her pained screams but they were now near silent croaks as the pain and blood loss threatened her consciousness. Seemingly noticing her weakened state, the Moroaica neared its yellowing teeth to her exposed flesh and—

“Oo, look Bela! I found another one~!”

(Y/n) reflexively closed her eyes and felt something hot and wet splatter across her face. She heard a squelching noise and felt dead weight fall against her body as Daniela’s giggles filled the hall.

“You shouldn’t be having so much fun.” Bela grumbled at her sister. “I knew mother should have sent you to your room. It would have been a more fitting punishment.”

“Okay, so maybe I forgot to lock the cellar, but you can’t say you aren’t having a good time as well.” Daniela said, grinning when Bela rolled her eyes, a small shadow of a smile forming on the eldest sister’s lips.

“Aw, look,” Daniela grunted, kicking at the dead Moroaica until its corpse rolled off of (Y/n), “well, let’s not let her go to waste. Her blood still smells good.”

“Wait, Daniela,” Bela said, holding her younger sister’s shoulder as she peered down at the bloodied maid her breaths coming raggedly as she fought to open her eyes. Bela sniffed and winced, shooting her sister a look.

“Daniela, take a closer look.”

“Ugh, fine,” the youngest groaned and leaned forward, “I don’t see why...” Daniela paused, her back went rigid. She just stared at (Y/n) for a few moments before finally turning to her sister, lips pursed.

“Cass is literally going to kill me.”

“You think?” Bela said, almost with complete disinterest.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Help me! If she dies, I die!” Daniela hissed, couching beside (Y/n) to assess the damage.

“I don’t know, I think I would kind of like to see Cassandra hunt you for sport.” Bela smirked.

“Bela!”

“Alright, alright.” Bela sighed, couching at (Y/n)’s other side.

The last thing the maid could make out before succumbing to unconsciousness was a dull, muffled buzzing and a feeling of weightlessness.

***

When (Y/n) awoke, she immediately noted that her throat was drier than a desert wind; her stomach and ribs also burned and itched like nothing she had ever experienced. She gingerly touched her stomach and found it covered in bandages. Her head ached so she pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes for a few moments.

With great effort she hoisted herself into a sitting position and had to do a double take of her surroundings. This was not the maid’s quarters and given the amount of time she had been spending in here lately, she was quick to realize she was in Lady Cassandra’s room, in her bed. Before (Y/n) could really let it all sink in, the door was yanked open.

Cassandra stalked in, shutting the door tightly behind her before standing over (Y/n) with a fire blazing in her golden eyes. A blowfly (Y/n) had initially failed to notice crawled down the bedpost before meshing back into Cassandra’s body. Apparently she had been being watched.

“Why didn’t you call for me?” Cassandra gritted out, gripping the bedpost so hard (Y/n) was afraid it would splinter.

“Lady Cassandra?” (Y/n) questioned, still feeling numb and achy and not at all ready for such aggressive energy.

“Glad to know you still remember.”Cassandra said mockingly before her voice became low and serious again, “You were in trouble, why didn’t you call for me?”

“I don’t...” (Y/n) winced and held her head, it felt like she was on a boat in rocky waters.

Cassandra took notice and with surprising gentleness, lowered (Y/n) to rest fully against the bed once more. She even offered (Y/n) water and helped her drink. Then she checked her temperature, the cool touch of her skin felt wonderful against (Y/n)’s aching head.

“What happened?” (Y/n) murmured, whining when Cassandra went to remove her hand. A bit hesitantly, she put it back. A small, prideful smile curved at her lips when (Y/n) relaxed against her touch.

“Don’t you remember?” Cassandra scoffed, “I swear, you humans are so unbelievably fragile. You were attacked by a Moroaica that strayed from its pack. Bela and the idiot who caused the whole mess found you. I did some sucking up to mother and we fixed you up with a little herbal remedy,” Cassandra frowned her voice becoming a tad accusatory, “Yet you still slept for a long time.”

“I’m sorry to have been an inconvenience Lady Cassandra.” (Y/n) spoke up after trying to absorb all that Cassandra had told her. Surely it would have taken more than a, ‘little herbal remedy’ to fix what had happened to her.

(Y/n) scrunched her eyes shut when Cassandra suddenly growled and pinched the maid’s nose.

“I’m glad you realize it. Do you know how infuriating it is to watch another maid handle my weaponry all wrong? To not make my room the way that I like it? Ugh, I’d have killed them all if mother let me.” She let go of (Y/n)’s nose, swiping the side of her index finger playfully over the bridge a couple times before re-settling her hand over (Y/n)’s cheek.

“That’s why, when you’re all better, you are going to have to train one of those imbeciles how to do it right.”

“I can do it myself, Lady Cassandra. I can get back to work tomorrow I’m sure of it.” (Y/n) nearly pleaded. She was sure any girl she trained would end up killed anyway. There were too many little things that could set Cassandra off to count.

“There is no more cleaning for you. You’re retired.”

“Retired?” (Y/n) couldn’t help but gawk up at Cassandra. The notion was wholly unbelievable. No one retired from serving the Dimitrescus’ unless you counted dying as a form of retirement.

“Yes.” Cassandra said with near vicious finality.

“Lady Cassandra, my parents count on the lei I send them from my job here, please reconsider. There is no work for me back at the village and I’d just be another mouth my family cannot afford to feed.” (Y/n) beseeched, her body quaked with fever.

“Calm yourself.” Cassandra spoke as if attempting to be soft, but was still very on edge. “Your family will still receive money. You aren’t going back to the village.”

“I’m not?” (Y/n)’s brows drew together with further confusion, “but, then what will be my purpose if I’m not to work?”

“Does it really matter?” Cassandra flustered, a buzzing sound filled the space between them, “Your family is getting money and you don’t have to do anything for it, be grateful!” Cassandra pinched (Y/n)’s cheek a bit harshly before standing and stalking away. The buzzing following her as she tore the door open once more.

“I’ll be back with lunch.” The Dimitrescu grumbled before closing the door behind her once more.

“What is going on?” (Y/n) whispered to herself in disbelief before resting her head fully back against the pillow. She caught movement in the corner of her eye and turned her head just in time to watch a blowfly crawl back into the dark canopy of the bed.

***

(Y/n) wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Suddenly, she had all this free time on her hands and would for a long time apparently. It was nice when she was still recovering, but now that she had healed, she felt antsy.

Cassandra had handpicked a trembling maid for (Y/n) to train, but even those sessions did not last long as the poor girl, Anca was her name, was still expected to complete other chores. Something that did help to pass the time however was Cassandra herself, strangely enough. She was always the one to bring (Y/n) meals unless she was busy with some task her mother had given her, also giving (Y/n) little gifts and talking to her throughout each day. Sometimes the ‘gifts’ were gruesome and the talks seemed more like interrogations, but the effort in which Cassandra put into every interaction left (Y/n) intrigued with, and appreciative of the middle child.

Now wasn’t one of those times unfortunately, and (Y/n) found herself pacing the floor of her room, yes, one of her very own. Given to her by Cassandra right across the hall from her own. Now that she was well enough to do more on her own, she had been moved there about three weeks ago to have her own space. Another thing that was unheard of coming from the middle Dimitrescu. (Y/n) paused by the window to look out upon the snowy ground below.

“Miss (Y/n)?” A knock on the door, “May I speak with you?”

“Anca,” (Y/n) paused her paces, that was strange. There had been no plans for a lesson tonight. Nevertheless, (Y/n) was happy for the company. Ever since Cassandra had removed her from service, the other maids had avoided (Y/n) like a plague “please come in.”

The nervous little maid came in, closing the door tightly behind her, shoulders stiff as she slowly approached and took a seat in the chair (Y/n) offered to her.

“Are you alright? You’re shaking.” (Y/n) frowned, reaching out to comfort her only to watch Anca shrink away from her hand.

“Lady Cassandra,” she spoke, looking wildly around the room, “she will kill me I’m sure of it. What game are you playing?”

“Game? I’m playing no game.” (Y/n) tried to assure. “Has she said anything to you? I promise I’m covering every base I can—”

“You aren’t doing enough!” She screeched, startling the other. “I’ve seen the way she treats you. The privileges you’ve gained. This is all a set up! You were in my shoes not long ago, have you really lost your humanity so quickly?”

“Anca, please, calm yourself. I’m not working against you, I swear.” (Y/n) tried to explain. “Tell me what’s wrong, let me help you. How can I help you?”

“How?” Anca mumbled, rubbing at her dark rimmed eyes. “It’s all because of you that I’m in this mess to begin with!”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Anca.”

“No, I really don’t think you are.” Anca sniffed, rising from her chair. “But maybe there is something you can do to help me. I’m already dead, but I want to hurt Lady Cassandra before I go and I think I can do just that,” she pulled a knife from her apron, “if I take you down with me!”

“Anca!” (Y/n) screamed, stumbling away just before the knife could strike her.

“Just hold still! I’ll do it fast, please!” Anca cried as she swiped at her again. “Let me just have this one thing! This one last fuck you to this hell hole!”

“Stop! You’re making a mistake!” (Y/n) tried again, wrestling with Anca for the knife.

The scuffle went on for minutes before (Y/n) was thrown to the back wall, the knife missed her head just barely and sunk into the wood behind her. As Anca struggled to hold her in place and wedge the knife free, (Y/n) called out for her without even realizing it until the blood drained from Anca’s face.

“Cassandra!”

“No, shut up! Shut up you bitch!” Anca squealed, rocking the knife more vigorously.

“Cass—“ (Y/n) tried to call out again, this time fully aware of what she was doing, only to be head-butted by Anca in a desperate attempt to quiet her while she continued to work at the knife.

It was too late for that however, as proven by angry buzzing sounds roaring through the hallway and sliding under the door before forming right at Anca’s back, a cold hand joined Anca’s over the knife and grasped her so hard, (Y/n) could hear the maid’s fingers crack.

“You want this knife, do you?” Cassandra sneered, “Please, allow me.”

Cassandra tugged the knife from the wall like it had been warm butter, Anca’s hand still clenched in her own. She used her other arm to pull Anca off of (Y/n) with a rough tug and hardly took more than a few steps away before plunging the knife deep into the girl’s chest.

“There you go. You’re welcome you miserable little wretch.” Cassandra raked the knife downward, slicing Anca’s flesh all the way down to the hip as the poor girl screamed. “That will teach you to touch what doesn’t belong to you!”

(Y/n) could only watch, wide-eyed and trembling as Cassandra dissolved into her swarm, allowing Anca to fall to the floor before hundreds of little mouths began working at her flesh until the screaming ceased and all that was discernible was a frozen expression of agony on Anca’s face.

The blowflies came back together after a few more moments of feeding and Cassandra reformed, crouched beside (Y/n). (Y/n) didn’t even realize she had sunk to the floor during the gruesome attack.

Cassandra raised a blood covered hand to (Y/n)’s cheek, turning the face in her grasp, she assessed the damage, buzzing all the while. Somehow the sound felt, calming, reassuring. (Y/n) didn’t even flinch away from her touches and instead found herself leaning into them.

“Just look at what that thing did to you,” Cassandra hissed as she watched the blood leak from (Y/n)’s nose, “I should have killed her even slower.”

(Y/n) sniffled, leaning her head on Cassandra’s shoulder, “Thank you for coming.”

“I’ll always come to you if you call for me,” Cassandra sighed and pulled (Y/n) into her lap. She smelled almost overwhelmingly of blood, but (Y/n) couldn’t bring herself to care. “No one has ever called for me like you have before. No one that wasn’t my mother or sisters anyway,” Cassandra bit her lip, “I... at first, I was enraged that you called for me that first time, but the more I thought about it... Ugh! You made me feel all gross and buzzy inside. I’m just so used to humans fearing me, associating me with death. Never have I been called by one expecting to be saved from it.”

“Is that why you helped me after that Moroaica had attacked me?” (Y/n) asked, her voice still muffled by Cassandra’s shoulder. She didn’t really want to catch sight of Anca’s remains again while in the arms of her killer.

“Yes. I’m still mad at you for that.” Cassandra growled, “Why didn’t you call for me that time? I thought we had an understanding.”

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) chuckled despite everything, “But I think understandings are usually met through open communication. I’m sorry I didn’t interpret your bug bites and general antagonisms as anything but blatant harassment.”

“Excuse me?” Cassandra snarled, reminding (Y/n) just how frightening she could be.

“I, I’m sorry Lady Cassandra. I forget myself.” (Y/n) stammered before gasping as Cassandra effortlessly rose to her feet with (Y/n) still in her arms.

“You must be awfully tired to be so mouthy. I can’t imagine you’ll want to sleep with a corpse on your rug so you’ll just have to sleep in my room until the maids clean this mess up. I suppose I’ll need to fix your nose too. So fragile, my prey is.” Cassandra sighed, clearly feeling inconvenienced by the whole situation. Though she carefully maneuvered out of the doorway so (Y/n) wouldn’t bump against it as they made the short trip across the hall to her room.

“You treat me quite well for being prey.” (Y/n) tested with caution. “You protect me, but why? Is it all so you can end me yourself at your own leisure?”

“Oh wow Cass, you really know how to make a maiden feel special.”

“I knew she was full of it, Bela! I bet they haven’t so much as kissed yet!”

(Y/n) felt Cassandra’s grip on her tighten as the mocking voices of her sisters closed in on them before Cassandra could slink into her room.

“Shut the hell up and mind your own business!” Cassandra fumed, crossing the threshold into her room before kicking the door shut, making a thunderous slam reverberate off of the castle walls.

Bela and Daniela merely giggled, seeping through the cracks of the doors before reforming over their sister’s bed, nearly falling on top of each other as Cassandra sped past them to take (Y/n) into her en-suite bathroom.

She placed (Y/n) on top on the counter and tweaked her nose without warning, making (Y/n) yelp in pain.

“Quiet prey, I needed to set your nose back into place is all,” Cassandra wrinkled her nose as more blood oozed from the abused cartilage, “damn, why must you smell so enticing.”

(Y/n) couldn’t find any words, both because her nose stung like hell and she was still stuck on what Daniela and Bela were taunting Cassandra about, so she just managed a small shrug.

Cassandra hardly seemed to mind her lack of verbal response. She was too busy grinding her teeth as her sisters continued to whisper and laugh in the bedroom. Cassandra quickly wiped and stuffed (Y/n)’s nose, nearly hissing at her to remain still before going back to deal with her unruly siblings, licking the stray blood from her fingers as she went.

(Y/n) tried to give her some privacy, she really did, but it was hard not to listen in when they were speaking so loudly, and about herself no less.

“You two get out of my room, now!” Cassandra commanded.

“Why? It’s not like anything unseemly is going to be happening in here. Right, Daniela?” Bela giggled while Daniela downright cackled with glee.

“Get. Out. Now!” Cassandra bellowed.

“Oh no Cassie,” Daniela waggled a finger, snatching it back before Cassandra could bite it, “you spend weeks pretending to have gone all the way with dear (Y/n) over there like some casanova and now we find out she doesn’t even know you like her?”

“What’s the matter Cassandra? It isn’t like you to be so chaste.” Bela said with a smirk.

“She must really like this one to be taking her time like this.” Daniela hypothesized with a bloodstained grin.

“Leave you idiots!” Cassandra nearly screamed, “She can probably hear everything you’re spewing! I’ll throw you out in the cold, don’t think I won’t!”

“Geez Cass, no need to be so hostile,” Bela shivered at the thought.

“Yeah, you take your well deserved teasings or we’ll tell mother you are not playing fair.” Daniela added with a pout.

Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose shutting her eyes tightly before releasing her nose with a growl and snapping her gaze back to her sisters.

“What do you want?” She grumbled.

“Oo! I want the best bits of your next hunt!” Daniela immediately proclaimed.

“I want to watch you flounder about whilst you try to explain your affections to the maiden.” Bela had said after a moment of consideration.

“Oh! That sounds fun. I retract my previous statement. I want what Bela’s having.” Daniela wiggled.

“I hate you both.” Cassandra huffed before stalking back to the bathroom, her giggling sister’s on her heels. (Y/n) quickly shot her gaze down at her swinging feet, suddenly more interested in the patterns of the floor below.

It didn’t take long for Cassandra to grab (Y/n)’s jaw and pull her face upward to meet her golden eyes.

“Listen prey,” Cassandra swallowed and blinked, her eyes darting all around (Y/n)’s face, “I...”

“Come on, Cassandra. It’s not that difficult.” Bela cooed, egging her sister on.

“I could tell her for you. That would be fun.” Daniela suggested, shrinking back just a bit at the look Cassandra shot her over her shoulder.

“Prey, (Y/n), I... Why is this so hard!” She stomped her foot and her nails bit into (Y/n)’s skin a bit too harshly, “I like you a lot and that’s why I’ve been helping you. I want you to like me too. Do you? Be honest.” She asked with a bit of hostility.

Did (Y/n) like Cassandra? Either way, it seemed like a death sentence to say no. Cassandra seemed to notice (Y/n)’s trepidation and quickly added,

“You don’t have to be scared. I won’t hurt you, just tell me the truth. If the answer is not to my liking then I guess I’ll simply have to try harder.” She said as if the words physically hurt her to say.

(Y/n) thought back on all of her interactions with Cassandra in a new light. Actually being caught as she fell, the schoolyard boy with a crush behavior (which honestly didn’t give the her any points but did make sense for how the murderous woman might try to show affection), most promising was how she brought (Y/n) back to health and continued to send money to her struggling family despite not working. Then of course she had saved her from Anca’s knife, wasting no time in cutting her down and checking (Y/n) over with care.

(Y/n) gave Cassandra a small smile that steadily grew a bit wider as golden eyes traced the movement and a hopeful sounding buzz began warbling in the back of her throat. Even the sisters standing behind her buzzed in unison, seemingly feeling their sister’s hope and growing excitement.

“Lady Cassandra, I like you too—Eep!”

Cassandra’s face dove into (Y/n)’s neck as her strong arms wrapped around (Y/n) to hold her still as she nuzzled and buzzed to her heart’s content. Bela and Daniela dissolved into their swarms and were haphazardly flying around them in celebration.

Cassandra gave (Y/n)’s neck a playful nip, much softer than a blowfly, before standing back to her full height and throwing (Y/n) over her shoulder.

“Lady Cassandra?” (Y/n) tried, wiggling a bit in the sudden new hold.

“Shhh, I’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks.” Cassandra said, craning her neck to look up at her sisters still buzzing above them, “Buzz off.” She told them. The clouds of flies let out a bout of disembodied laughter before slipping back under the door, feeling that they had given their sister enough grief for one night.

Once Cassandra was sure they were gone, she tossed (Y/n) on to the bed and climbed in as well, hovering over the stuttering maiden.

“Wuh- wait, Cassandra, I know we established we like each other but—“ the former maid flustered as Cassandra rested her full weight over (Y/n)’s body and moaned pleasantly in her ear.

“Mm, you’re so warm. I could just lay here forever.” She sighed, snaking her hands underneath (Y/n)’s back.

“Thank... you?” (Y/n) awkwardly replied. For as tall and strong as Cassandra was, she was surprisingly light. (Y/n) figured the fact that she was made up of flies had something to do with that.

Cassandra hummed some more, nuzzling her nose in the crook of (Y/n)’s neck and breathing so deeply that (Y/n) couldn’t help but giggle. There was a bit of concern bleeding in the back of her mind, but the smiling lips on her collarbone were quick to distract her.

“I quite like it when you make that sound, it’s sweet. But right now I’m quite tired, and I would like for you to be quiet now. I’m listening to your blood move.”

Well, that was a slightly terrifying admission. (Y/n) must’ve been going mad because she reacted no differently than if she had said she was listening to her heartbeat.

“Goodnight then.” (Y/n) murmured, slowly patting Cassandra’s hair, earning a low continuous buzzing that persisted until they had fallen asleep together.

[sevlgi]

hit and run

requested: no

group: blackpink

pairing: rosé x fem!reader

genre: a  shit ton of angst, some fluff

contents: idol!rosé, actress!y/n, closeted!rosé, costar!au, slight enemies-to-lovers, unhappy endings because i’m a bitch, a lot of attempted cinematic parallels, italicized dialogue is when they’re speaking as their characters

warnings: slight homophobia

synopsis: There’s absolutely no reason for you to get involved with a costar who you should hate by all accounts. But of course, you manage to forget that love is usually more like a hit-and-run than a cruise ship. 

a/n: while i was writing this, i  imagined this as what happened before rosie sang “gone”, so maybe you can think of it like that too? i’m honestly so terrified of this flopping lmao... 

for a little background on the film: Y/N plays Luna, a pirate captain who unknowingly sacrificed her family in order to have the power to fight the regime that Rosé’s character Helen is a part of. Helen approaches Luna, determined to help her bring justice, but Helen is unable to choose between the benefits of staying with the regime, and following what she knows is right and destroying her life as a result.

word count: 6.8k

The last thing you want to hear on the morning of your first script reading is that the actress playing your love interest in the film has changed.

“What?” you say loudly, straightening in the backseat. Your manager frowns, and you sit obediently, but the scowl doesn’t leave your face. “What do you mean the actress changed?”

“Yeah. She had to leave the movie at the last minute,” he sighs.

Sooyoung was chosen alongside you, after lengthy interviews testing whether the two of you would be able to handle your characters’ dynamic. It took weeks for the director to decide that you were the pair that she wanted, so the news that you’ll be meeting your costar for the first time in front of paparazzi is quite the shock to your system. “Shit. Then who’s the replacement?”

Your manager presses his lips together firmly before answering, “Park Chaeyoung. She’s an idol.”

You groan and slump down again. “Great. Another idol actress? Please don’t tell me that this is her first role too. Oh god, is she straight?”

“Yes to all of the above,” Chan says tensely.

Maybe you’re being dramatic, but it’s honestly a big deal. It’s the first leading role you’ve bagged, especially in a mainstream LGBTQ+ movie, and Sooyoung was the best costar you could’ve picked. You’ve never met Park Chaeyoung before, and you already know that all your plans are going to be messed up.

Chan pulls the car into the parking lot, and you scowl when you realize that most of the paparazzi have arrived. “We’re going around the back. Y/N, promise me one thing: don’t make a scene, okay?” your manager pleads. “I’m not happy about it either, but Chaeyoung has a good reputation. You’ll just ruin yours if you blow up at her.”

“I promise,” you answer through gritted teeth. You slip through the open side door as soon as you get out of the car, ignoring Chan’s call after you to have a good time like you would’ve.

To make matters worse, you don’t even get a chance to talk to the director or Chaeyoung before you’re swarmed by a crowd of reporters, even if that ‘talk’ would’ve consisted of more yelling than anything. “Y/N, Y/N!”

“Okay, let her up!” Seulgi shouts, pushing her way through. She grips your arm to lead you towards the cast table, whispering under her breath, “I’ll explain later. But just run with it, okay?”

You have plenty of problems with idol actresses, but you’ve never been inclined to say all those problems to their faces. Until now, that is.  Now, you’re sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with a girl you know has absolutely no credentials to be playing the other role in your upcoming movie, resisting the urge to ball your script up and throw it in her face.

There’s nothing wrong with Park Chaeyoung as a person-- she’s admittedly gorgeous, probably sweet, and you’re sure she isn’t a bad actress in any sense. The only thing wrong with the situation is that she’s painfully straight and auditioning to be your love interest in what might be Korea’s first mainstream lesbian film, and that you have never spoken to her before.

Chaeyoung avoids your stare with a clenched jaw, and in normal circumstances, you would already be apologizing profusely for making her uncomfortable. In this circumstance, though, your obvious grudge against her only contributes to the dynamic her character is supposed to have with yours.

“Miss Kang, is it true that the actors were only picked today?” 

The director grimaces, and the both of you turn to look at the cameras flashing by the sides of the room. It was never the plan to allow paparazzi to sit in on the first reading that you and Chaeyoung would be doing together, especially since it’s true that Chaeyoung was only chosen hours ago, after the original actress bailed. Even though your grudge should be against the girl who left, it’s easier to glare at the one sitting next to you. “Not exactly. Y/N has been confirmed for the role of Luna for months, but we recently added Chaeyoung as Helen. But we can assure that their chemistry will be wonderful,” Seulgi reassures the audience. What a lie.

Yet another reporter calls out, “How much of the script will we be seeing today, and when will the trailer be released?”

“Since the casting was changed today, the trailer has been delayed,” Seulgi says. You can hear the panic in her voice, and clear your throat. “As for the script… we’re only doing part of one scene that will show up in the trailer today, so we’ll just let them begin. Y/N?”

As you take a sip of water to prepare yourself, you almost hope that Chaeyoung messes up her part. It would be bad press, sure, and it would only contribute to Seulgi’s stress, but it would be satisfying for her to realize that she doesn’t deserve her part. She’s just an idol, after all, and she’s taking away representation from the people who need it.

“Are you saying you’re better than me?” you begin, your voice ice-cold.

You watch Chaeyoung’s throat bob, but her voice is steady and clear when she says her line. “No! I’m not saying that I’m better than you… but by all accounts, there’s no way you should have this power.”

“Would you be less scared then?” You pause, watch as Chaeyoung’s expression changes to the panic that her character’s would. “I’m kidding, Helen. I did things to get these powers, things that I’m not proud of.”

“Why would you do that? You’re strong… you don’t need them.”

“I’ve never been-- shit.” The tips of your ears start to burn, and suddenly, your lines are swimming before your eyes. Maybe all your hoping and wishing that Chaeyoung messes up has reflected onto you instead.

She attempts to remind you, “I haven’t always--”

“I know,” you hiss, but your voice is too loud in the silent room. Chaeyoung turns bright pink, too, but you still can’t seem to say your lines out loud. Shit, shit, shit--

“I’m just trying to help,” she sighs.

You whip your head to glare at her, and she winces at the daggers you send in her direction. “Shut the hell up--”

“Okay, the script reading will end here,” Seulgi announces loudly, and you bite down hard on your tongue. You don’t dare to look at the other cast members, don’t dare to think about how they must be guilting you for cutting their PR short. “Thank you everyone, please leave with security.”

You stay in your seat, staring at your script with burning eyes until you feel a hand on your shoulder and jolt. “Hey,” Chaeyoung reminds you, “we can leave.”

“Don’t touch me” is your only answer, and you storm out of the room. Alone.

The next time you see Chaeyoung is the next day, at a script-reading that the paparazzi knows nothing about. (You do see a friend request from a Park Chaeyoung the night before, but you ignore it.)

Seulgi attempts a smile, but it doesn’t hide the bags under her eyes. She claps and raises her voice to get the cast’s attention. “Okay, everyone. We didn’t get what we wanted yesterday, but that’s fine. Um… let’s try yesterday’s scene from Chaeyoung’s part, okay? From ‘you don’t need them’.”

Chaeyoung nods. “You’re strong… you don’t need them,” she starts, worry tinging into her voice.

“I haven’t always been strong,” you reply, your voice harsher than it should be just to stop yourself from messing up again.

“Still. Powers aren’t everything, Luna, it’s too hard to have them.”

You sigh. “Newsflash, princess. It’s harder not to.”

“But--” Chaeyoung interjects.

“Did you ever think,” you cut her off, “that I didn’t care that it’d be hard? Did you ever think that the rest of us are tired of you abusing the thing that you’re given, but we have to fight for?”

You look right to Seulgi once you finish, ignoring the part underneath that says you should look to Chaeyoung at the end of the scene. The director smiles anyway. “That was great, you two. I think you capture the tension perfectly, which is a relief.”

You fight the urge to laugh. “I know that changing our main cast so close to the actual production is really difficult,” Seulgi sighs. “And I’m really sorry to inconvenience you all. The schedule is really squished now, and we just have to work through it. Chaeyoung, Y/N, all I ask is that you try to work together, okay? I know you’ll be amazing together.”

Chaeyoung speaks, possibly for the first time besides her lines. “Of course, Ms. Bae. I’ll do my best.”

“I’m sure. We have to cut this short, again, but we’re scheduled for costume fitting right now,” Seulgi groans. “We have to at least get the outfits for the trailer to fit. Sorry, everyone. Down the hall, okay?”

Of course, you and Chaeyoung have to get fit together. The only sound in the hallway is that of her heels clicking on the wood, and you resist the urge to shout at her to stop. Luckily, you arrive in the fitting room before you can.

Your eyes widen at the dress hanging there. It’s incredible, even without the layers that would support the skirt-- you can’t even imagine how the beading and pink silk would look on Chaeyoung. Ethereal, probably. “Y/N, yours is here,” the costume director laughs, beckoning you over.

Even though your own outfit isn’t nearly as opulent, you can’t help but admire the gold detailing on the cuffs and the tailoring. “Thank god yours doesn’t take so much sewing,” the director grunts, pinning the side. “You know, the two of you are going to look fantastic in these, even if we have to spill all that blood on them to shoot the trailer.”

“Sooyoung would’ve looked better.” It’s mean, and it’s a low blow, but the director doesn’t take your bait.

She pokes her head out to where Chaeyoung’s being fitted. “Now? Okay, Y/N, go out there. We need to take a look at the two of you together.”

You can’t stop your jaw from dropping when you see Chaeyoung. She’s all candyfloss hair and gold adorning her tiny waist, and in all her glory, you can’t stop yourself from thinking that maybe she was made for the role. “You look really good,” she compliments softly.

Nodding stiffly, you turn for the seamstresses. Chaeyoung moves to fiddle with her gloves when she realizes that you have absolutely no interest in continuing the conversation.

Well, if there’s one thing you can nitpick about her, it isn’t how she looks; she looks absolutely perfect for the role of Princess Helen, maybe even more perfect than Sooyoung. 

One of the costume directors steps in. “Okay, you can get changed out, but you have to come back in a few hours,” she tells you. “We have to make a lot of changes, then fit you again.”

You step down from the podium, going towards your dressing room without a second thought until Chaeyoung calls for you. “Y/N? Do you want to have lunch later? In your trailer or something?”

“Sure,” you answer, barely glancing back. When you do, all you see is her with shiny puppy eyes, and in her giant gown, it’s eerily similar to the role she’s supposed to be playing.

“It’s nice. You’ve decorated it?”

You nod absentmindedly, clearing the narrow couch off for yourself to sit on, since Chaeyoung has taken the only chair that could fit in the trailer. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve had it for a few months, so.”

She winces. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you frown. Chaeyoung apologizes too much, but at least she’s upfront about whatever she has to say.

Your costar sighs, “For usurping the role? You must’ve gotten attached to Sooyoung, and it’s got to be horrible for me to just… arrive like this.”

“You know… that’s part of it.” You can’t lie; a big part of the resentment you hold against Chaeyoung is the fact that she took a role meant for someone else, someone you were friends with. “The other thing… I don’t like idol actresses,” you tell her.

Chaeyoung’s brows furrow, and she leans forward. “Why? I mean, why don’t you?”

You pause to think about it. “Well… I mean, think about it like this. Sooyoung and my auditions went for weeks before we were chosen, as a pair. Didn’t you get this role because you were an idol? You had to audition, sure, but I bet you just flashed a few smiles and read the script and got chosen. How is that fair?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but you hold your hand up and continue, “And the other thing. You’re straight.”

Chaeyoung chokes on air at that, spluttering, “What? You hate me because I’m straight?”

“No,” you say incredulously, “Well, I don’t hate you. But you being straight, and landing the lead role in a film like this… you’re taking away representation. And that’s kind of shitty of you.”

The air inside the trailer becomes suffocating, and Chaeyoung’s fiddling with the jacket in her lap finally stops when she throws it aside and stands up. She sounds like she’s about to cry when she says quietly, “Have you ever considered that I’m not straight? It’s not… it’s not that easy to be out about it--”

“Oh, cry me a river,” you groan. “Look, I apologize for assuming, but if you want to act in lesbian roles, you can’t pretend to be straight. It’s all for your fans, isn’t it? Another part of being an idol--”

She stands up, then storms right out of the trailer without another word, the door banging closed. The only thing you can do in response is sigh and utter a quiet, “Shit”.

Perhaps it’s just your luck that the first proper scene you have to film with Chaeyoung is your culminating kiss scene.

It shouldn’t be in the trailer at all-- according to the scene schedule, the two of you would’ve filmed your scenes together in chronological order, and the kiss would’ve been at the end, hopefully after a reconciliation between the two of you. However, for some inexplicable reason, it’s going to be the first one you do, without a single second of rehearsal.

You’re a one-take wonder, and you always have been, but you can’t help but think about how impossible it’s going to be to pull off such an intense scene with someone you just fought with. Sighing, you lean over to fiddle with your hair; it’s slightly tangled now, and there’s a fake scrape on the side of your cheek. 

At a side, Chaeyoung is similarly beat up, fake blood smeared on the left side of her face. Her long hair has been put in an updo and then taken down, and parts of her dress are ripped; to you, she looks more like Helen than herself now.

“Okay, everyone, are we ready? Positions, please!”

You arrange yourself on the ground where you should be, holding a handkerchief to your cheek like instructed as Chaeyoung stands by the camera to run to you. Exhaling sharply, your eyes meet hers for the first time in days. “Action!”

Chaeyoung sprints to you as soon as she’s cued, falling in front of you in a heap. “Luna,” she gasps, reaching a gloved hand out to the ‘injured’ half of your face.

“I’m fine,” you smile weakly. The camera hovers by Chaeyoung’s shoulder, and you soften your gaze as much as possible as your hand comes up to hers.

The other girl only moves closer, her eyes scanning yours and her dress surrounding the both of you like a sea of gauze. Her nose is almost brushing up against yours, and you mutter softly, “Be careful. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want.”

“Well, what do you want?” Chaeyoung implores, almost inaudible. Her breath quivers, and you feel it when you reach forward to cup her jaw. “Luna, what do you want right now?”

“I’m not making a move until you tell me to,” you shake your head. 

The blonde’s hands slip off your face, and she braces herself on your thighs instead. She laughs breathily, “Coward.”

“Your coward, huh?”

Chaeyoung pauses, scraping her teeth across her bottom lip. It’s so quiet that you think you could hear a pin drop, and the torches held up by the crew flicker across her face so naturally. “If you want to be.”

There’s probably another line that comes after, but with Chaeyoung so close to you, it swims blurrily in your mind. So instead, you just lean up, pull her down, and connect your lips.

She plays along, thankfully, stumbling slightly in her character’s eagerness to get a little closer. The only thing you can hear is Chaeyoung’s slight gasp when you let your hands wander down to her waist, and it’s almost scary how absorbed you are in the scene.

“Okay, cut!” Seulgi’s shout breaks you from your trance, and you hold your hands up as if in surrounder. Chaeyoung’s cheeks are red yet again when she sits up, staring anywhere other than you.

Your director hops off her chair to run towards you, a huge grin on her face. “That was perfect,” she shouts. “Y/N, I think you forgot a line? But it worked out amazingly. The one-take wonder, right?”

You grin when she pats you on the shoulder, a little harder than necessary. Apparently, all your worries were for nothing, as you and Chaeyoung stand to monitor your own shot in the screen next to Joohyun.

You can’t even hear all the praise she showers on the two of you, and you pay no attention to all the details she points out that apparently showcase your perfect chemistry with your costar. All you feel is a slight squeeze on your hand, hidden in the mess of fabric by your side.

You jolt awake at the sound of your phone ringing loudly by your side, finding an unknown number as the caller ID. Accepting hesitantly, you greet, “Hello?”

“Y/N? Did Chan give me the right number?”

Oh. It’s Chaeyoung. “Yeah.” You clear your throat in an attempt to sound a little less drowsy, then repeat, “Right number. Why’d you ask Chan?”

“Well, it’s kinda hard to find you when you never accepted my request,” she laughs quietly. “Um, I have to record the OST today, and I was wondering whether you’d want to come watch? Chan said you didn’t really have any scenes later today.”

“Um. Okay. I’ll ask Chan to bring me,” you answer, then hang up. Your head swims slightly, partially due to the fact that you woke up to the piercing sound of your ringtone and partially because you just don’t understand why Chaeyoung’s reaching out again. You should be the one apologizing, after the tangent you went off on, and you highly doubt that your kiss scene doubled as an apology. Of course, you’ll take it.

Your manager is more than pleased to pick you up this time, but thankfully, he doesn’t question you. If he did, he’d probably be the one you shouted at.

The studio is honestly too small for two people, probably hastily set up, but you recognize the recording equipment from a video of Chaeyoung recording one of her group’s songs. And you recognize the girl already standing in the recording booth, waving you over. “Hi,” she smiles, and for all you try, you don’t see a hint of malice.

“Hey,” you mumble, taking a seat. “Uh… I’m sorry.”

“Wow, straightforward,” she tries to joke. “What for?”

You scratch the back of your neck, sighing, “For assuming, for blowing up on you, for… I don’t know, kind of everything. I’m an asshole, even if what I said wasn’t wrong.”

Chaeyoung chuckles, fiddling with the mic. “I mean, I appreciate the apology, but I wasn’t great either. You definitely had some truth behind what you said, even if it was kind of too to the point.”

“I know. You were just trying to apologize and help us become civil, and I kind of ruined it,” you hum. The other girl adjusts the lyric stand as you continue, “But I’m hoping you understand why I had to say what I did?”

“I do,” she agrees. “You’re definitely right that it’s not good representation at all, I just wish you had heard me out.”

You nod uncomfortably, changing the way you sit on the couch just to distract yourself. “So… you’re gay? I’m just asking because I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about it, and I’ve seen plenty of your interviews.”

“So you watch my interviews?” Chaeyoung teases. When you scowl, she just smiles, “I can’t say specifically, but I am confused. You said last time that it’s just another part of being an idol, and you’re… you’re right. It’s taboo for idols to be gay, even though Korea’s opening up to it a bit more now. So even though I want to, I don’t think I can ever be out about it.”

“I understand. And I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

She swallows, throat bobbing. “Thank you. Hey, Y/N… would you mind singing with me?”

“What?” You stare up at her incredulously; it’s not like your singing would make the other girl faint on the spot, but you definitely don’t possess an angelic voice like hers, either.

But maybe it’s an olive branch. “Just… can you match this note?” She hums, and you attempt to create the same pitch. “Okay. Can you do the chorus part in that key, while I do it in the main one? We’ll sound better like that,” Chaeyoung offers.

Against your better judgement, you stand, and shuffle into the recording booth next to her. “If this sounds bad, you’re taking the blame,”  you warn, and she giggles while twisting the stand so you can see.

You do sound good together, maybe to a level that you would’ve never anticipated.

You know that something’s off when Chan doesn’t wake you up bright and early on your birthday, even if Seulgi already promised that you wouldn’t have to go to work on the day of. After spending many a birthday with him, you’ve already gotten used to him tugging you up just to take you outside and celebrate somehow.

You know something’s especially off when you hear a female voice cursing from your kitchen, and smell something burning.

“Who the shit-- Chaeyoung?”

The girl turns in surprise, caught red-handed with a piece of burnt toast pinched between her fingers. “Um. Hi?” she offers weakly.

Suddenly self-conscious, you cross your arms over the faded sweatshirt you wear. In your own apartment, Chaeyoung is leagues more put-together in the summery dress she wears, her dyed hair tossed in a braid and glitter shining at the corners of her eyes. “Hello?”

“Chan said you wouldn’t be awake for a few hours,” she sighs, shaking her head as she tosses the toast in the trash. “And I wasn’t supposed to burn the toast.”

“What were you supposed to do?” you question, stepping closer. There’s a cake box on the counter, as well as a couple suspicious tubes of icing right by it, and you think you know what’s going on.

Chaeyoung huffs out an exasperated breath. “I was supposed to surprise you. Chan has something going on at home, so he sent me to supervise your birthday instead. Obviously, I messed that up.”

“It’s fine,” you shrug, taking a seat at the counter and reaching for the icing. “I’ve always wanted to decorate a cake anyway.”

She looks surprised at that, but a smile breaks out across her face. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirm. It’s partially a lie, but you’re decently sure that Chaeyoung will refuse to let you do most of the work anyways. “Uh. I’ll just change first, and then we can get that going?”

“Yeah,” she grins, and you take it as your cue to scurry off to the bedroom.

By the time you come back, there’s a plate of not-burnt toast on your counter, and Chaeyoung’s pouring out two glasses of the juice that you can never bring yourself to buy because of the price tag. “I hope you like it, this is one of my favorites.”

“Like it? I love this,” you gasp, surging forward to pick up one of the glasses. “It’s expensive as hell, though.”

“Well, I couldn’t get you a gift, so I thought a nice morning would suffice,” Chaeyoung laughs. She unties the bow on the cake box to reveal a completely bare vanilla cake, a few packets of sprinkles that you hadn’t noticed now lying next to it. “Do you want to start?”

“Oh, sure.” You choose the blue icing after a bit of debating, and pick up the spatula that your costar offers you. “You didn’t have to, though, I would’ve been okay on my own today.”

Chaeyoung shrugs, “I mean, I didn’t have anything else to do, and I wouldn’t like to be alone on my birthday.”

“How do you usually celebrate?” you question, glancing up at her.

She pauses to think, then answers, “Well, I do live with my members, so we’ll get something to eat. Sometimes, we’re on vacation, so we just do what we can, but I like staying in the dorm to receive the things that their families send me.”

“It sounds sweet.”

“It is,” she grins. “I honestly don’t know what I would do on my own, it seems lonely-- Oh. I’m sorry.”

“What for? It is kind of lonely,” you admit, squeezing a glob of icing out. It’s definitely not as graceful as you would’ve appreciated, and you catch Chaeyoung stifling a laugh. “Chan lived with me at the beginning, but he eventually moved out when I got a girlfriend. Obviously, that didn’t laugh.”

“Sorry,” the other girl repeats again, and you wave a hand out. “When was that?”

“She moved out two years ago,” you answer. “And I’ve been alone since. Or, lonely, not always alone.”

Chaeyoung nods just so that you know she heard you. She accepts the icing tube when you hand it to her, making a spiral that’s infuriatingly better than yours. “How about you? I know you said you aren’t out, but have you dated yet?” you question.

She shakes her head, admitting, “Not yet. I don’t really know how to, you know? You assumed I was straight when you first saw me, so I think everyone else does too.”

“Sorry,” you say, an echo of her.

Your costar doesn’t respond, only setting the spatula down once the basic blue icing is smooth. “I think we’re supposed to refrigerate this before decorating, right?”

You grimace. “Well, I don’t know. I stopped watching cake videos years ago, so I’ll just listen to you.”

Chaeyoung hums and ties the box back up. “Okay, then I’ll just do it. Um, do you mind ordering chicken or something while we wait?”

“Sure.” Reaching for your phone, you ask, “Would you be opposed to romcoms?”

“I’m never opposed to romcoms,” the other girl answers.

You have to remind yourself to order two servings of chicken, something that you haven’t done in a while. But it’s comforting, in a way, to not be alone again.

“Can you believe we’ve only got a week left of filming? I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”

You wince guiltily, even though you know that Yerim doesn’t mean it. Acting with your friend was originally a huge incentive for you to accept the film’s role, but the two of you quickly discovered that you had almost no scenes together, and with your push-and-pull with Chaeyoung, you forgot all about it. “Sorry, Yerim.”

She makes an incredulous expression, swatting your arm. “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I’m happy you’re pursuing love and all that, and besides, we’ll have plenty of opportunities to act together.”

Blinking, you set your cup down on the counter. “Pursuing love?”

Yerim raises her eyebrow and says, “Yeah. Aren’t you and Chaeyoung together yet? We’ve been filming for two months, I’ll be shocked if you still haven't kissed and made up.”

“Uh. Well, we’ve kissed, but I don’t think it counted,” you frown. 

Your friend sighs and rolls her eyes. She’s all too used to how dense you are, and apparently, she’s finally gotten tired of it. “You’re an idiot. You literally met the morning of your first script reading, and you knew each other for… what, a week before you had your kiss scene? There’s got to be something there.”

“No.”

Right on cue, a few of the other cast members arrive, Chaeyoung sandwiched between them. “Have you seen the articles?” Nayeon grins, waving her phone around in the air. She’s drunk, obviously, but you have to indulge her.

“Which articles?”

She shoves the screen in your face as an answer, and you cringe when you find a screencap of you and Chaeyoung. “You won’t believe the chemistry-- nope, I’m not reading that.” You hand the phone back to Nayeon, then press it in her hand when she doesn’t take it. Yerim sends you a knowing expression, one that you definitely don’t like.

“Aw, come on! It’s good press,” Nayeon whines. “And a great kiss scene.”

“Don’t be weird,” Chaeyoung warns. She doesn’t seem to be drunk at all, though she does look fantastic in the silver dress that she wears. Your eyes linger on her for an embarrassing amount of time.

Nayeon pouts. She’s bubbly-- you’ve learned that much through acting alongside her in a total of three productions so far. You note that your costar doesn’t seem to be so accustomed to her temperament yet. “You’re no fun, Chaeng. We all know you enjoyed it.”

She goes bright pink at that amidst Yerim’s joking coos. “The token straight, converted?” your friend gasps, and you elbow her to stop her from going too far.

Apparently, it already has. “I didn’t!” Chaeyoung defends herself.

“Prove it,” Nayeon demands, slipping when she attempts to lean on the counter next to you.

Chaeyoung goes silent at that, apparently unable to find a way to ‘prove it’. You finally sigh, “Okay, I think that’s enough teas--”

If it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve long since memorized your entire script book, you would almost think that Chaeyoung reaching forward to tug on the front of your shirt is a scene between your two characters. After all, it’s perfectly in character for your eyes to widen comically as the other girl kisses you right on the lips. 

It’s also in character for Nayeon to start whooping next to you when your hands wrap around Chaeyoung’s waist to pull her in closer. You part at the noise. “You certainly look like you liked it,” Nayeon grins. 

“Yeah, get a room,” Yerim follows, and you shove her.

“You know what? Maybe we will.” Ignoring your friends’ jeering, you grab Chaeyoung’s wrist and lead her down the hallway, though not to a bedroom like you joked you would. “Hey. You okay? I didn’t know if that teasing crossed a line,” you whisper worriedly.

She bites down on her lip, but instead of answering you, Chaeyoung tilts your face up and leans closer, only stopped by your hand on her wrist. “Chae…”

“I’m sorry, this… this isn’t what you want, is it?” She steps back, mouth already opening to apologize, but you stop her from leaving you alone in the hallway.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” With the flashing neon lights echoing in her eyes, you can’t tell what Chaeyoung’s feeling, and you can’t tell if she’s willing to answer you properly at all. “I’m not making a move until you tell me to.”

Still, you don’t hear her say a word, until your grip starts to loosen on her wrist. “Did you drive here yourself?” she finally asks, barely audible. You nod hesitantly, and Chaeyoung’s voice grows firmer when she says, “I’m telling you to make a move.”

“I thought you were questioning?”

She swallows hard and takes your hand. “Not anymore.”

You don’t taste any alcohol when you lick your lower lip, and so, you nod. It’s stupid, especially considering how quickly your time together is about to end.

But for once, you know what you want.

“Good luck out there, Chae,” you smile, arms wrapped around the girl’s waist. 

“Thanks,” she hums, adjusting her hair yet again in the mirror. “We’re almost done filming, I have to promote us well so that we have enough money to at least put the damn film out.”

“Mm.” Your thumb smooths over the sliver of skin exposed by her top, and you place your chin on her shoulder to look at the two of you together.

She glances down at you. “What? Are you thinking about something?”

“Sort of,” you shrug. “I just can’t believe we’re almost done, but we… we just started this. You know, this thing between us.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely a thing. But it doesn’t have to stop with filming,” Chaeyoung says offhandedly.

Raising an eyebrow, you question, “Doesn’t it? It’s going to be suspicious for us to constantly be seen together after filming together, I’ve seen the way your fans behave. Especially while you’re not out.”

“I think I can negotiate that with my company,” the other girl shakes her head.

You joke, “What, you release another two albums if you get to come out about having a girlfriend?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Chaeyoung responds immediately. Her ears pink endearingly, and you wait for her to clarify, “In secret for now, obviously. But… one day, I’ll be out about it. I promise.”

“Don’t make empty promises, okay?” You press a kiss to her bare shoulder and let her go when you hear a knock at the dressing room door. “Do good!”

“Alright, Chaeyoung, it’s about time that we ask you some questions about your upcoming film, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” your costar smiles, and you raise your head from your phone to watch the screen. She’s sitting cross-legged across from some of the most famous idol interviewers in Korea, absolutely poised and natural even in front of the crowd that cheers over the interview.

The woman behind the podium clears her throat. “A huge talking point in Korea right now is your chemistry with your costar, Y/N. How exactly do you pull that off, since you’ve never experienced a relation like that?”

Chaeyoung laughs nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Oh. Well, um, I don’t have much experience with relationships at all, so--”

“Really? A pretty girl like you must have had a boyfriend or two before.” You despise the way that the interviewer leans in conspiratorially, as if the prying questions weren’t completely scripted. “But you seem a little to pretty to have experienced that, am I right?”

The crowd laughs with her, but Chaeyoung glances behind the scenes, probably to where her own staff sits. “You know, you can tell me if you ever felt… uncomfortable during filming,” the interviewer continues on. “Y/N has been out for years, hasn’t she?”

“Oh, she has…” You’re practically fuming, but you also can’t seem to pry your eyes away from the screen. All of Chaeyoung’s practiced idol-charm has seemed to dissipate into thin air, and she’s practically blending into the wall as she sits there.

The Chaeyoung you know-- no, the Chaeyoung that you’ve come to know, wouldn’t stand to hear something like that. You’ve watched her argue with a scriptwriter, and you’ve watched him get fired because he said something incredibly offensive, even though it wasn’t about you. But here, she sits still and just listens to the interviewer discuss you behind your back, and she says nothing about all the disgustingly backhanded comments.

The thing is, you don’t care about Chaeyoung not being out. You were closeted for enough time yourself, and you know how hard it is, so you’d never wish it on her; but watching her completely let go of all her personal principles just for a stupid interview is just another reminder that you’re letting go of your own. Chaeyoung won’t ever speak up, you realize, because her career comes before anything else. And you can’t stand for that.

“I’m leaving,” you tell the guard standing outside of your door. Only increasing your anger, tears start to burn in your eyes, and you scrape your sleeve across your face as roughly as you can. Chan picks up on one dial, and you say furiously, “Pick me up. It’s over.” In more ways than one.

Chaeyoung shivers at the top of the hill, where she’s supposed to be filming her closing scene with you. She hasn’t seen you for the past week, and after how disastrous her interview was, she’s pretty sure she knows why.

“Where’s Y/N?” she finally asks her makeup artist, giving in to her own curiosity.

Felix shrugs, reaching to mess with the blood on her hairline. “I have no idea, honestly, I haven’t seen her yet. She’s never late, though, you don’t have to worry. You’ll get your scene done.”

“That’s…” Chaeyoung sighs. That’s why she should be worried. “Right.”

“Okay, can we start?” Seulgi shouts. It’s started to rain, but with the excited look on the director’s face, Chaeyoung figures that it suits the scene even better than the gray clouds that had been planned. “Great. Chaeyoung, Y/N!”

Your hair is plastered to your forehead with the rain, and water makes your blouse cling to your curves; with the grim expression on your face, Chaeyoung could easily just mistake you for your character. “Hi,” you mutter, taking a seat on the grass right next to your costar. You say nothing else.

When cued, Chaeyoung takes a deep breath before her line. “Luna. I love you.”

For a second, Chaeyoung thinks you won’t respond, but the rasp to your voice proves her wrong. “No. No, you don’t.”

“I think I’m the one who should be deciding that, don’t you?” The blonde raises her eyebrows, reaching forward hesitantly for your shoulder.

Of course, you dodge it. Blinking the rain out of your eyes, you’re resigned when you ask, “You have your birthday gala tonight, don’t you?”

“Yes, but--” Chaeyoung swallows, lets her hand make contact, then continues, “I’m spending as much time as I can with you, aren’t I with you right now?”

“But you’re going.” It feels like you’re staring right into Chaeyoung’s soul when you speak, as despondent as your voice is. She nods, and you stand, her hand slipping off of your shoulder and into her lap. “Then go. You’re still a princess at the end of the day, aren’t you?”

“At the end of the day, yes…”

“You can’t do that. You sneak out onto my ships, get my people to love you and protect you, and then turn right back to your family to stay safe while we die for you. You can’t say you support our cause and then go back on it when it’s inconvenient for you, it doesn’t work like that!” Chaeyoung flinches at how intense you sound; at this point, she barely knows if it’s still acting. She can only hear her own heart in her ears, can only see your chest heaving from how quickly you spoke, and it all feels too real.

“What, do you want me to get found out?” Chaeyoung demands, getting to her feet as well. The rain becomes harsher, angled so that it perfectly blurs her vision of you. “I’ve saved your ass just as many times too, don’t pretend like I’m not a valuable part of your ship!”

“You’re still pretending.” Realizing that it’s not the right line, Chaeyoung opens her mouth to stop you, but your voice chills her into silence when you speak again. “You’ll always pretend, as long as it benefits you, won’t you? You can’t do that, Helen, not if you ‘love me’. Putting a crown on your head doesn’t mean that you’re a princess. Until you realize that, and until you’re willing to embrace it, you don’t love me. and I don’t love you.”

None of it is the script. None of it is the scene that you rehearsed a thousand times together in your trailer, but somehow, it makes Chaeyoung’s heart quaver in her throat so much more than the original lines ever did.

And when you drop your gaze to the ground, turning to walk off into the rain alone, she knows that to you, your entire relationship is already done.

[221bshrlocked]

i. Initiation

Stirring Sensations Masterlist

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2325

Warning: lots of really inapropro thots all because of that.fucking.chain.

A/N: I’ve had a really bad week and it only got worse last night and I almost had to go to the ER but crisis averted everyone and I’m about to fuck up this presentation but I needed to write this because wow we’re all so horny for this man and that chain he wore during the D23 Expo 2019. Also, this tiktok didn’t help. There might be a second, more NSFW part. Depends on if yall like this :)

You couldn't stop staring at it. Lord knows you tried your hardest to be aware of the conversation going on but it was impossible.  It wasn't even anything special, just a shiny little chain, and yet you were absolutely hypnotized by the way it hung around his neck. Why you found it absolutely mesmerizing with that shirt you would never know but there was something about the way he carried himself around, especially today, that had you wishing you were bold enough to say something. But no, he was a friend. And he was kind enough to invite you to an after-party with his colleagues whom you still tried your hardest to act naturally around. 

But fucking hell this was hard. It kept on swinging around with every little movement he took, whether he was motioning dramatically with his hand as he explained something about one of the scenes or was simply leaning over and laughing over something Jon said. It was just...there. Taunting you. Begging for your attention. Any kind of attention. 

You kept on staring at it as you drank your wine, occasionally nodding along to pretend you weren’t imagining biting down on the chain and tasting his sweat on it as he fucked you into the mattress. It was getting difficult with every passing moment though, especially when he had to nudge you a few times to ask your opinion on something and furrowed his eyebrows when you apologized and told him to repeat his question. 

You thought you were being subtle enough but then Pedro leaned over and whispered something in your ear and you all but lost control, the sharp intake of breath making him lean away and ask if he’d done something wrong.

“N-no sorry I- god, I think I drank too much. I just need...some fresh air. Be back in a minute.” Pedro stared at you as he nodded, and you watched as his hand slipped under his shirt to scratch at his clavicle, the action forcing your eyes to the chain yet again. Before you could stop yourself, your tongue was peaking out and licking your lower lip, wishing it could lick across the shiny necklace if only for a second. Once you realized what you’d just done, you raised your eyes and met his, finding the usually umber brown eyes dilated and unforgiving in their gaze.

And then he mirrored your actions and licked his lips and you knew you needed to get away from him before you made a fool out of yourself. 

“Excuse me,” you smiled at everyone and walked to the balcony of the restaurant, finding a quiet and private spot in the corner overlooking the awfully busy street. Taking a deep breath, you shut your eyes and leaned against the wall, finally allowing your mind to give into the pathetically filthy thoughts involving Pedro’s fucking chain of all things. You thought of what it would feel like to pull on it as he kissed the air out of your lungs. Wished you could twirl it around your fingers as he licked and nipped down your neck before slipping his hands beneath your pants. Fuck, what you would give to just bite down on it, maybe lick it and his skin as he used you to get his cock off. Would he let you suck on his neck, that glorious fucking neck that was somehow always glistening and smooth and so fucking inciting? Would he moan when you tell him how sexy you found it, especially with that floral shirt? Goddamn that shirt. It was so loud and yet he pulled it off. And with those light brown pants that were positively tight and almost left nothing to the imagination...

But none of that compared to how captivating he looked with that chain. It was very rare for Pedro to look unattractive in whatever clothes his stylist picked out for him. Actually, that wasn’t true. Pedro never looked bad in anything, even if it was a worn down sweatshirt or jeans. He just always looked nice and you weren’t sure if it was because you’ve had these feelings for him for so long or if it was because he was an honest-to-god sex symbol. 

You rubbed at the base of your throat, thinking of worshiping him and kissing down his neck before he forced you down on your knees and fucked your face. And to hear that voice, that beautiful, deep, hoarse voice as he moaned and swore and growled at you as you pleasured him. What a sight he would be. 

When you took longer than he anticipated, Pedro excused himself and walked past the balcony doors, surveying the large open area and almost walking back in when he didn’t find you anywhere. But then he noticed you in the corner near the edge of the railing, tilting his head to the side when he saw how hard you were breathing. He approached you carefully, his eyes taking in the way you were rubbing at your neck and harshly you were biting down on your lower lip. 

So busy imagining the touch of his hand on your heated skin, you didn’t notice Pedro’s presence until he broke you from your haze with a concerned question.

“Are you okay?”

You jumped and grabbed at your chests when you heard Pedro, rolling your eyes when he started laughing and apologized before rubbing your arms to calm you down. 

“Jesus Christ you scared the fuck out of me. God, how many times did I tell you not to do that?” You gulped before turning to the railing, trying to calm your heart rate so he didn’t suspect anything.

“Not my fault you’re so jumpy.” You shook your head at his teasing comment, taking in a deep breath to try and forget what you were just thinking about before he interrupted you. “You were gone for a while...is everything okay? Did something happen and you don’t want to tell me?”

“W-what? No no nothing...nothing happened I promise. I just needed some air. It was getting a little intense back there. Sorry I’m just not used to being around so many, you know-” You trailed off and hoped Pedro wasn’t offended by your words because the last thing you wanted him to think was that he was bringing you to anxiety-inducing gatherings. 

Your smile faltered when you finally glanced at him, finding it near impossible to not shift your attention to the unbuttoned collar and the godforsaken inanimate object hanging around his neck. Pedro was taking in your changing expressions, trying his hardest to figure out what was going through your mind and hoping it mirrored what was going through his.

But he didn’t have to wonder for too long because all of a sudden, you were reaching up and pushing his shirt apart, and he felt his heart skip a beat when your fingers lightly trailed across the chain he was wearing. He didn’t dare to say anything, afraid you’d break out of whatever trance you were in. He hoped to whatever higher power existing out there that he wasn’t misreading the situation because he wasn’t sure how much more he needed to control himself. You continued to stare at him as you traced the outline of the cold metal, slipping your hand beneath it to touch his skin. Pedro shivered when one of your nails scratched at the hollow juncture just below his Adam’s apple and he all but lost it when feather-light touches skimmed over the cartilage moving down his throat. Your fingers descended down his throat again, and he ceased to breathe when you twirled his chain around your index finger before tilting your head to the side in interest. When you licked your lower lip and began to lean forward, Pedro couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“Fuck…” The growled expletive snapped you out of your haze and you snatched your hands away, about to start apologizing to him and begging him to pretend that you weren’t just pretty much assaulting the man in public.

Pedro regretted the way he responded to you when he saw sheer panic and fear etched on your beautiful features. He didn’t think of what he was doing as he pushed you further into the wall and cornered you between his arms. Pedro wanted to make sure you weren’t about to run away from him because now that he had you here, with a pretty good idea of what you were thinking of, he wasn’t about to let you go. 

You watched as his jaw muscles clenched tightly, unable to look away from his dark eyes as he stared down at you.

“I thought I was imagining things...the entire day. You’ve been...you kept on looking at me like...like you were- like I was-” Pedro gulped to try and contain his thoughts, not wanting to scare you by what he’s been thinking of when he caught you looking at him like you wanted to devour him. “Every time I looked at you, you would either look away or pretend you were talking to someone else. But fuck baby I didn’t think- didn’t think you’d ever...fuck. I can’t stop thinking about you sweetheart, and if I’d known that it would take me wearing this fucking chain...goddamn, I would have worn it a long time ago if it meant you’d look at me like you were imagining...that I- that we- Please...I- I...shit, are we on the same page here baby or am I completely misreading this entire situation?” Pedro stuttered through his admission and you weren’t sure if you found it cute or sexy that he was trying to hold back from telling you what he’s been thinking about. 

“Pedro-”

He wasn’t sure who leaned in first, and he couldn’t care less if he was being honest, because you were in his arms, devouring his lips and fisting your hands in his shirt as he snuck his tongue into your mouth and kissed you with every ounce of his being. You sighed into him as you felt his hand slip into your hair at the nape of your neck and pull on it. You were thankful that he had his other arm wrapped around you because you felt faint with every little moan he whispered into your mouth. Nothing could have prepared you for the intensity of his kiss. You would never tell him but watching his on-screen kisses did something to you and you always thought he would be generous with whoever he was with but this, this was something else. It was a cliché but this must have been what it felt like to watch a shooting star fly through the sky. It had to be. It was magical, intimate, and absolutely breathtaking. 

When Pedro pulled away and looked down at you, he couldn’t help but push himself flush against your heaving chest, once again swearing when he felt your shivering hands slip beneath his shirt and pull on the chain. He followed your lead and molded his lips with yours, this time more carefully and with less desperation. You smiled against him, and let out a deep breath when you felt him smile into the kiss. Pulling away from him, you rested your head on his chest and let go of his shirt, trailing your hands across his back to try and somehow pull him closer to you.

“I- I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” His voice was soft, exuding calmness and joy. But you could hear his heartbeat and you knew he was just as nervous as you.

“Me too.” 

Pedro grabbed your shoulders and pushed you away so he could take a look at you.

“This isn’t a- I’m not...I’m all in baby. I’m all in, if- if you want to give us a shot. Please.” Silence enveloped the air around you and you looked into Pedro’s eyes, finding nothing but love and hope and happiness in them. You’d always wanted to make him happy, he deserved the world. And now that you knew you could, it was indescribable. 

“I’m yours Pedro.” 

You smiled when you noticed the familiar dimples take over his expression, sighing in relief when he pulled you against him once more and tightened his hold on you.

“Let’s get out of here.” He grabbed your hand and moved towards the restaurant. 

“What? No wait Pedro this is your day. I’m not- we could figure this out after tonight. I’m not about to ruin your night. It can wait.” Your eyes widened in surprise when he stepped towards you and grabbed your cheeks so you could look at him.

“Baby...I waited to hear you say those words for too damn long. I need to have you all to myself tonight. Please. I’m- I’m begging here. They won’t mind I promise. I just- I want you in my arms. I want to touch you and kiss every inch of you and hold you until you get tired of me. I want to whisper sweet things in your ears and show you how much I lo- how much I care about you. I want you. And I can’t wait anymore. Please hermosa.” Pedro noticed the small gasp emanating from your lips at the last nickname, and he raised an eyebrow when you turned away from him to look at something else.

“Oh, good to know.” He laughed when you narrowed your eyes at him in annoyance.

“Come home with me hermosa. Please.” He knew he had your undivided attention when you looked up at him, barely holding back from smiling because you could never refuse anything when he used that tone with you. 

“Ok.”

Pedro leaned in one last time and kissed your forehead before taking your hand and walking back inside. Well this was going to be interesting. 

[bubblesuga]

G O L D

Summary: Sneaking around was never Jungkook's thing, that is until you came along. W/C: 1,494 Genre: smut Tags: idol!AU A/N: Not much of a plot here but I wanted to write :)

The carpeted halls of the new HYBE building are quiet for the moment. Everyone has finally settled in, quiet meetings happening in offices and the distant laughter fills your ears when you realize that TXT are filming something to promote their new album.

A sigh leaves your lips as you realize you've truly never been happier. Even as an intern, you feel as though your work is important in keeping the artists happy. Maybe one artist in particular as well.

Continuing on your trek towards the filming rooms, you hear a door squeak open and a hand wrap around your arm.

You let out a squeal, feeling yourself get tugged into a janitors closet. "What the fu-" you begin to exclaim but a hand presses against your mouth, silencing you entirely.

"Shush, you're gonna get us caught."

You look up, meeting eyes with Jungkook and instantly relaxing.

He releases your arm and gives you a sheepish smile, reaching up to turn on the overhanging light in the small closet.

"What's the matter with you?" you lightly smack Jungkook's chest, "you scared the shit out of me."

"I wanted to see you." he explains, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Your lips stretch into a grin, grabbing his hands to stop his nervous fiddling.

Jungkook took a liking to you pretty quickly after you started working with them. It started slowly, though, the sneaking around.

At first Jungkook never intended for anything to happen with you. He liked you, thought you were cute and shyly asked for your number one night when it was just the two of you left in the old building. You gave it to him, not thinking much of it but you quickly realized that he was flirting, and you weren't complaining.

The flirting escalated into the two of you openly speaking about your attraction to one another. You mentioned how you imagined his hands roaming your body and he described every last detail of what he'd like to do to you.

He'd send you texts in the middle of meetings, his eyes staring at yours until you checked your phone. Sometimes they were cute, 'you look beautiful today' or 'your eyes are shining'.

Other times it was something more along the lines of, 'I'd kill to bend you over the table and fuck you in front of everyone'

After a few weeks, you received a text saying that if the two of you were to ever take this any further beyond dirty text messages, you couldn't say anything. You happily obliged, because at this point you felt yourself growing wet just at the sight of him. He has a dirty mouth and you were willing to do anything to experience it audibly.

"You could have just texted me to meet you here." you giggle, reaching up and pushing a piece of hair from his forehead.

"Stealing you seemed more fun," he shrugged, "how much time do you have?"

Before you could answer, Jungkook's lips began to roam around your neck and chest, causing your mind to cloud with images of him.

"U- uhm-" you stutter, feeling a bite along your collar bone, "roughly 15 minutes until I have to make it to a- Jungkook." the end of your sentence turned into a moan, his tongue soothing the bite along your collar bone.

"I think I can make you cum twice in 15 minutes." Jungkook grins against your skin, reaching behind you and unzipping the back of your dress.

You don't bother fighting it, you couldn't deny Jungkook because you'd never want to. You would risk everything-- you are risking everything just to please him and you wouldn't have it any other way. The thought of someone opening that door and walking in while Jungkook's face is buried between your thighs excites you to no end.

"What about you? How many times will you cum?" you smirk as he slips the dress away from you entirely, lifting your pantie clad ass up and pressing your back against the door.

"We'll find out." He says gruffly, his voice thickening with each passing second. He drops to his knees, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder and swiping your panties to the side.

Normally, he plays with you. Kissing your thighs, leading up to your heat before finally licking a long stripe up. Today, however, he dives right in.

His tongue connects with your clit immediately, flicking careful strokes quickly across the sensitive nub. You jolt forward, one hand wrapping through Jungkook's hair while the other flies to your mouth to cover the cry leaving your lips.

The cool metal of the door against your back highly contrasts the heat you feel between your legs. It moves, spreading through your flushed chest as Jungkook continues devouring you.

"God, you're soaked," he groans, his eyes locking with yours as his warm lips press a kiss to you, drenched in your arousal and shining beneath the yellow lighting, "you're so hot when you're riding my tongue."

He lengthens his tongue again, using the tip to find every inch of your core and slurping up the lewd squelch of your arousal. You feel your legs growing weaker but Jungkook is quick to hold you up, continuing his ministrations until you feel a tingle begin to grow.

"I'm close," you cry softly, feeling him moan against you, "please."

He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, bringing a finger to your entrance and curling it into your cunt. He's sure to meet your eyes when you come undone above him.

He feels his cock grow harder at the sight of your eyes rolling to the back of your head and a soft moan of his name falling repeatedly from your lips. It's his favorite song.

"Good boy," you whisper, your vision clearing up, "you're so good."

"And you taste delicious," he leans up, his glistening lips pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, "my favorite taste."

"One down in 7 minutes," you swallow, still steadying yourself, "think you can get me another one?"

Jungkook's eyes darken further, flipping you around and tearing your panties down your legs. You grip the shelving in front of you tightly while you wait in anticipation. You hear Jungkook's zipper slide down, and you grin, anticipating the stretch of his thick cock.

Sure enough, you feel the head begin to toy with your already sensitive entrance.

"Jungkook," you whine, "no time. Please fuck me."

"Well, since you asked so nicely." He finds amusement in the way you gasp when he slowly begins to push into you. He slides in easily, his girth causing an uncomfortable sting. He waits for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size and you finally begin to relax around him. Finally, he draws his hips back and slowly begins to thrust into you.

Jungkook's hands are planted firmly on your hips as he pistons into you, watching the way your knuckles turn white at your grip on the shelf. He's slow for a moment until you begin to bounce backward into him, soft mewls of pleasure leaving your lips. Then, his pace is picked up significantly.

"Get up here," he moans, "need to see your pretty tits bounce."

He pulls you up to him, your back pressing against his broad chest while his fingers toy with your clit.

"I want to fuck you in front of a mirror," he whispers in your ear, "so you can see how gorgeous you look for me."

A second orgasm spills over and you begin to clench around Jungkook's cock mercilessly. He gasps at the feeling and pounds harder, guiding your chin in his direction and kissing your lips harshly. The feeling of your velvet walls around him causes Jungkook's mind to cloud and he's quickly spilling into you, a whisper of your name floating from his throat.

You stay like that for a moment, but all too soon you notice the clock on the wall. "Shit, I have to go."

Jungkook sighs, slipping out of you and grabbing a clean paper towel to clean you up gently.

Despite your relationship being solely physical at the moment, it's times like this-- Jungkook's aftercare-- that make you think that he could possibly want something more. Dates weren't a thing with him, he told you that from the beginning but it never hurt you to hope.

Carefully, he slips your dress onto your body and zips up the back.

His fingers pause at the top, "it's taking everything in me not to unzip this and take you again."

You giggle, "How about you do it tonight? My apartment at 6:30..." suddenly, a brush of shyness washes over you, "I'll make you dinner."

Jungkook turns you around, his eyes alight with an emotion you couldn't particularly decipher. Raising an eyebrow in question, Jungkook only leans down and presses a hard kiss to your lips.

"I'll be there."

[chaos-burst]

direction to perfection

Dorian fought his parents to be here.

He fought tooth and nail to be allowed to live in a dorm, so there is no way he can back down from this decision. It’s his first shot at freedom and being normal and doing something for himself instead of his family.

Dorian will not back down.

He will persevere.

“Harder, come on!”

Loud moaning and the creaking of an old mattress accompany the dull thudding that comes from inside of his room. The room he’s currently standing in front of.

“I’m so close, so close, so close—“

Dorian stares at the door. His face is hot and he stands frozen in place as he tries to decide what to do. He needs his lute for the next bard class. He also needs to be far away from this room.

Gods, most of all he needs a new roommate.

“Oh, fuck, just like that—ah—“

Dorian closes his eyes and hides his face in his hands.

He was so proud after he finally convinced his parents to let him stay here. When he first entered his room he wasn’t even concerned about how small it was, or how his roommate’s bed was so close to his that stretching both their arms out would result in them touching hands.

And then he met Dariax, the guy he’s supposed to be living with for a long time.

“Dorian, are you literally standing here listening to Dariax bang someone inside of your room?”, Opal’s voice reaches his ears and he turns his head to look at her. She must see the desperation on his face because the next moment she gives him a pointed look before hammering her fist on the door.

“What the fuck, guys! Rent a room! And hurry up, Dorian needs his stuff!”

Dorian feels mortification creep from his face down into his stomach as he hears a loud thump, a shriek and a curse. The fact that Dariax knows that Dorian has been standing here makes him go through the five stages of grief so quickly that he can feel his insides churn.

Opal turns to face him and gives him a stern stop-putting-up-with-this look before she stalks away, twirling her dagger in her hand.

Dorian wishes it were that easy to voice what he wants.

To be sure of himself.

To live unashamed and free.

Sadly, his current repertoire covers none of these things.

The door gets yanked open and Dorian finds himself face to face with a white, half-elven woman wrapped in a bed sheet, her hair a complete and utter, blonde mess, her purple lipstick smeared across her left cheek.

“I was so close!”, she hisses as she holds up her index finger and thumb to indicate the fact that Dorian just ruined her earth-shattering orgasm.

“I—uh. I’m so—“

“Dorian! Gosh, I’m so sorry, I forgot that you had class, buddy!”

The half-elven woman throws Dorian the nastiest stink-eye and rushes down the corridor in nothing but the bedsheet wrapped around her. Dorian has no idea why she would do that, but Dariax distracts him.

Dariax, who is completely naked, his lips covered in purple lipstick, his cheeks flushed and his hair standing up from his head.

For decency, he’s holding a bottle of wine to cover his crotch.

Dorian wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

“I—uh. Sorry to disturb the—ah. Fun? I just. I just need to grab my lute real quick”, he says weakly, rushes over to his bed and grabs the lute leaning against the wall beside it.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, buddy, I’ll just go jack off in the shower, it’s no biggie.”

Dorian stares at Dariax who grins at him, as if that was a perfectly normal thing to say to someone in this situation.

“Sure. Have fun”, he croaks, his cheeks still flaming, and flees out of the room and down the hallway.

Dorian fought so hard to be here but gods, he wishes he were somewhere else right now.

The class he’s attending is one of his favorites—one that covers Bardic Inspiration as a form of self-expression, but it takes him a while to cool down from the mortifying ordeal of having Dariax as his roommate.

They’ve been living together for almost three months now and it’s not like it’s all bad.

Hell, Dorian likes Dariax.

He’s funny, doesn’t take himself too seriously, he tells ridiculous, entertaining stories and is loyal to a fault. But he’s also extroverted in a way that makes Dorian go insane. There is no moment of silence when Dariax is in the room—because Dariax hates silence. He also brings back so many different people to their room without asking Dorian first. Not all of them are Dariax’ lovers—at least not as far as he knows.

But they’re always loud, always messy and always completely oblivious to Dorian’s social cues.

Opal keeps ranting about how Dorian needs to reinforce his boundaries, but Dorian has no idea how to do that. Never in a million years would he bang on the door of his room if he knows that Dariax is having sex in there. Opal is always so loud and unapologetic about everything—Dorian envies her for it.

Dorian has never kissed anyone. Or had sex. Or anything in between these things. How the fuck both Dariax and Opal know exactly what they like and who they like is beyond him.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”, a soft voice says right next to him and Dorian is ripped out of thoughts and into reality. The class has been going for an hour and there’s someone standing next to him he’s never seen before.

She’s definitely some sort of fey—the whole lower half of her body is goat-like and her long ears are drooping. The amount of ribbons her dress is supporting is truly astounding and there is a whole crown of poisonous flowers on top of her head that she wears like a crown. Dorian blinks before catching himself.

“Ah—no. Please”, he says and gestures at the empty chair next to him.

The faun sits down carefully and watches as she carefully places a panflute on her thighs.

“Which bard college do you specialize in?”, Dorian asks.

“Hm? Oh, I’m not a bard. I’m majoring in druid. I just like to make music”, she answers with a smile.

Dorian never considered just taking classes that have nothing to do with his major. Maybe it would be something his parents would disapprove of even more than they did of his bard major and his choice to sleep in a dorm.

“I’m Fearne, by the way”, she adds and nods her heads slightly. A single leaf falls from her head and onto her panflute.

“Dorian”, he answers. Fearne smiles at him.

“You have very pretty hair”, she says.

“Oh. Ah—thank you? You—you too. Your hair, I mean. It’s—uh. Very green.”

Fearne’s smile widens.

“Thank you!”, she says in a tone that suggests that this might be the compliment she’s ever received. Dorian on the other hand wishes he could bite off his tongue. Your hair is very green. What kind of compliment is that? It’s no wonder that he didn’t have any chance to kiss anyone yet if this is all that he can come up with.

Dorian turns around and tries to concentrate on the professor’s lecture but his mind keeps wandering. He takes only a few notes and as he looks over at Fearne he sees that she’s doodling all sorts of mushrooms into her notebook. Then there is a small screech coming directly from her bag.

The class falls silent and everyone turns to look in their direction.

“What was that?”, professor Brooke asks with a confused look on his face. “I don’t remember any familiar registrations for this class.”

Dorian looks at Fearne who turns her head to look around at all the people staring in their direction.

“That was just me”, Fearne says and points to herself. “I ate too much pudding for breakfast.”

Professor Brooke looks embarrassed and very apologetic.

“I’m sorry, dear. Let’s continue then.”

As the lecture continues, Dorian leans over to Fearne.

“Didn’t that come out of your bag?”, he wants to know. Fearne shoots him a sly smile and gently lifts the flap of her green bag. Dorian stares at a small monkey peeking up at him with weirdly glowing eyes. Then the monkey raises his index finger to his mouth as if trying to tell Dorian to shut up.

Fearne closes the bag.

“That’s just Little Mister. He’s my… friend.”

“I see”, Dorian says.

He supposes that this is what he left home for—to meet all sorts of people, learn about all kinds of different things that he would never get in touch with while under his parents’ wings.

So Dorian decides to simply accept that some people are friends with monkeys and carry them around in bags.

If he can manage to live with someone like Dariax, he sure as hell won’t judge someone for bringing an animal companion to class.

After another fifteen minutes, Fearne leans over to Dorian again.

“I don’t understand this concept that the professor is talking about.”

“Oh, they explained it in the first half hour, before you got here.”

“Oh, I see. I was late”, Fearne says and looks disappointed, as if she was only now realizing this.

“Uh—yeah. Like, half an hour.”

“Time is kind of hard, you know. It’s like—it’s like this weird soup. And I don’t think I really have it memorized how to read clocks.”

Dorian stares at her.

“So. Are you not from here?”, he asks and groans internally at his phrasing. Fearne doesn’t seem to mind, though. She nods gratefully as Dorian pushes over his notes so she can look at them.

“No, not really. I come from the Feywild. We don’t really have clocks.”

“Because… time is a weird soup.”

“Yeah, exactly. Is that a saying here, too?”, she asks, her ears turning towards him full of excitement.

“Ah—no. I don’t think it is. Not here, at least.”

“Well, now you know it.”

Dorian nods and watches as Fearne studies his notes to copy some of them down into her notebook. He tries to imagine a world without clocks and immediately gets anxious at the prospect of always being late.

In the last twenty minutes of the lecture, they actually get to play their instruments.

“You play beautifully”, Fearne says after listening to Dorian play for a few minutes.

“Thank you! Your music is really different from what I know. It’s interesting.”

Fearne beams at him.

“Maybe we could make some music together some time?”, she asks.

“I would like that, yeah.”

*

Dorian isn’t bad at making friends, he’s just not as good or fast at it as Dariax. Maybe that’s because he’s a little more selective about the people he hangs out with, but Dariax just seems to consider everyone he talked to more than once his friend.

Dorian never really had friends growing up, so he doesn’t consider himself an expert. But at least for him Dariax’ way doesn’t seem to be all that great.

So when Dariax asks: “Hey, do you wanna come hang out with me and my friends tonight?” Dorian feels less than inclined to say yes.

“Uh—I already have plans”, he lies, trying to figure out if he should try to convince Opal to spend the evening with him or if he should just take this opportunity to have some peace and quiet in his room.

“Aw, man. Too bad. We wanted to go skinny dipping in the gym’s pool”, Dariax says.

“Isn’t that off limits at night?”, Dorian asks, his brow furrowed as he looks at Dariax’ face that breaks into a wide grin.

“Yeah, that’s why it’s fun to go there”, he answers and winks at Dorian. Dorian feels his cheeks grow hot and swallows as his intestines suddenly feel the need to writhe around like living snakes.

“Oh, well—I’m not really a—uh. A rebel boy, as they say”, he says and laughs nervously. “You go and have fun, though.”

He tries not to picture Dariax completely naked in the dim, shimmering light of the campus’ pool but he fails miserably. His palms start sweating.

“Oh, don’t worry, I will, I will. But hey, maybe next time!”

“Uh—yeah. Maybe”, Dorian says weakly as Dariax saunters out of their room and closes the door behind him. Dorian stares at the locked door for way too long and he’s endlessly glad that no one can see him.

This doesn’t seem like a normal thing to invite someone to. When he went to college to learn how to be a bard, he envisioned parties, maybe some illegal weed smoking on a restricted rooftop, at the most.

He did not envision to be asked to get butt naked, break into a gym with a pool at night and go swimming with a bunch of—probably drunk—strangers he doesn’t even know the names of.

That was, of course, before he got Dariax as a roommate.

Now Dorian feels like he should be prepared for anything.

As Dorian grabs his lute and sinks down onto his bed he wonders if Fearne lives on campus or if she lives in the Feywild and somehow manages to travel here for every class that she has. That would explain the time thing, he supposes, because he learned that time works differently on other planes.

This is the first evening in what feels like weeks that he has the room just to himself. In between the pieces he plays on his lute he simply sits on the bed, enjoying the silence. When he opens the window the cool breeze from outside reminds him of home and he closes his eyes for a little while.

It smells like rain and autumn outside. Dorian turns to look at the small room that’s his now. It’s nothing compared to the big, bright room he had at home, but it feels special simply because this is the first time he gets to do what he wants with a space without anyone breathing down his neck.

There’s not much in the room aside from their desks, beds and the closet they share, but Dorian pinned a few posters and postcards over his bed for the very first time. His bed is unmade—something that his parents would have never allowed—and there are fairy lights dangling from the ceiling that he actually picked out himself.

The desk is covered in sheet music and books and for a few seconds Dorian looks at the small picture of his brother and himself that is sticking to his pencil holder, before turning his gaze at some of the articles he printed out yesterday.  

He might actually get some homework done in this blessed quiet.

At least that’s what he thinks until his phone rings.

At some point Dariax must’ve stolen Dorian’s phone and taken a selfie to make it pop up every time he calls Dorian, because as his phone lights up Dorian can see Dariax’ dopey smile appear. Dorian ignores the rush of heat he feels as he looks down at the glowing display, reaches for his phone and picks up the call.

“Dariax?”

“Dorian, hey buddy!”

He definitely sounds drunk, which doesn’t surprise Dorian. But there’s an edge to his voice that makes Dorian nervous.

“What’s up, Dariax?”

“I—uh. Remember how I told you that we were going to go skinny dipping in the gym and everything?”

“Yeah, I haven’t forgotten. It was like, three hours ago.”

“Cool, yeah. So the guys—“, and Dorian wonders who exactly ‘the guys’ are supposed to be, “were in a real funny mood. So. They stole my clothes and locked me in here—“

“They what?”

“I know, right? So… I tried to break open the lock, but I might be a little too drunk to get it right. And I was wondering—could you maybe bring me some clothes and get that door open for me?”

Dorian stares out into the night.

“How do you have your phone if they took all your stuff?”, he asks weakly.

“Had it with me in the pool to take some underwater selfies. It’s waterproof”, Dariax supplies cheerfully.

Dorian can see lights in the buildings all over campus and a crescent moon in the sky. He tries not to imagine what kind of pictures Dariax was trying to take of himself. Naked. In a pool.

“You want me to break open a door”, he repeats, just in case he misheard.

“I mean, kinda? Maybe? I really don’t wanna sleep in here. I slept in worse places, but it seems kinda shitty to wake up and immediately get into trouble for trespassing and all of that…”

Dorian isn’t sure if he wants to know in what kind of places Dariax has slept that count as worse as a college gym’s pool.

“But I guess I could just sleep in the showers or something.”

“I don’t really know how to get locks open”, Dorian sighs, but he’s already walking over to their shared closet. In theory, Dariax’ half is on the left, but he insists on just throwing all of his clothes in there without actually caring about which side they land on, so Dorian grabs some jeans, a hoodie and some underwear and stuffs it into his bag. He tries very hard not to look at the underwear too closely.

Dariax might not know what privacy is but that doesn’t mean that Dorian has to stoop down to the same level as his roommate.

“Fine. I’ll see what I can do”, he huffs.

“Aw, fuck yeah, you’re the best. I lo—“

“Bye”, Dorian calls and hangs up hastily before Dariax can finish.

His dreams of a quiet night dissipate into smoke as he throws the bag over his shoulder, grabs his keys, his jacket and his phone and leaves the room to head towards the gym.

Dorian, never in his life, has tried to open a lock with anything other than the key that was supposed to go into it. He doubts that he would manage to learn it in the heat of a moment so as he walks through the night, passing under a lantern every few steps he takes, he considers what he can do to get a locked door to open.

He is not strong enough to pry it open.

He has never learned how to do that trick with a credit card and isn’t sure if it would even work on this door even if he knew how.

There is no spell he knows that would be useful to open a door.

The only thing Dorian is good at is music and talking to people.

He makes his decision as he heads for the closest security guard patrolling campus at night.

“Excuse me, hi”, he says with the most honest and simultaneously nervous smile he can muster. The young man looks him up and down and seems to come to the conclusion that Dorian is worthy of his attention because his body turns towards him and offers a small smile back. He’s white withshort, brown hair, a long nose and arms full of tattoos.

“Can I help you?”, he asks.

“Well—this is so embarrassing. I—uh. I was in the gym earlier and I forgot my phone in there and my girlfriend wanted to call me tonight and I—uh. I already missed the last call so…”

He trails off as he tries to looks as bashful and stressed as he can—something that isn’t hard because Dorian still has to think about how Dariax is naked and probably dripping wet and how they’re most likely going to get into so much damn trouble.

“Oh wow, that sucks”, the security guard says and Dorian nods.

“Yeah, I’m—this is so dumb, I know you have better things to do, but… If you could just let me sneak in there for a minute and grab my phone? That would be a total life-saver, man”, he says and brings his hands up in front of his chest in a pleading gesture.

“Well, I guess we can make an exception. Don’t want to be the cause for trouble in paradise, right?”, he answers with a smile and Dorian forces himself to laugh.

“Thanks so much, I’ll drop off some cookies next time I see you around”, Dorian says and the security guard chuckles and makes a joke about bribery that Dorian doesn’t actually find funny but laughs about anyway. Since he officially ‘lost’ his phone he has no idea how to let Dariax know what his plan is.

All Dorian can do is hope that Dariax isn’t standing right behind the door butt-naked. Dorian supposes that he could always claim not to know him then—something that would only hold up for so long.

They walk towards the gym and Dorian can feel his heartbeat picking up.

What if he gets suspended? Kicked out? Sent home?

When they arrive in front of the gym everything is silent. Dariax is not banging on the door from the inside, calling Dorian’s name. Dorian decides to take that as a win as he nervously watches the guard fiddle for the master-key before opening the door.

“So, where did you leave your phone?”, the guard asks him and Dorian looks around hastily to see if he can spot Dariax anywhere.

“Uh—over on the benches, I’ll be right back!”, he says with an apologetic smile before rushing through the gym and towards the benches on the other side of the building.

“Dariax!”, he hisses into the darkness towards the corridor that leads to the locker-room and the pool.

“Hey bu—“

“Pscht. There’s a guard there. I had him open the door, you have to sneak out!”

Dorian starts crouching down on the floor and drops his bag so Dariax can reach it. He’s peaking his head out of the dark corridor and Dorian hopes that the security guard doesn’t spot him as he reaches his arm out towards the bag with Dariax’ clothes inside it.

“Did you find it?”, the guard calls over and Dorian can hear his footsteps coming closer. He hastily fishes for his phone and slides it under one of the benches.

“Not yet, it’s pretty dark in here”, he says. The rustling in the corridor next to him tells him that Dariax is hastily getting dressed.

“I have a flashlight, one sec”, the guard says and crouches down next to Dorian who feels bad for lying to the poor guy. He’s so friendly and forthcoming—Dorian decides that he actually has to get this man some cookies.

“Oh, there it is!”, he says and points to the left as the light of the torch reaches his phone.

“I’m afraid my arms too short to reach that”, the guard says and scoots back so Dorian can extent his arm and grab his phone. He tries hard not to look behind him to check if Dariax already made it out or not. He gets up, stuffs the phone into his pocket and dusts off his pants before turning towards the guard with an embarrassed smile.

“Man, thank you so much, this is really clutch.”

“No problem. I hope it works out with your girlfriend”, he answers and leads Dorian back towards the door.

“Thanks. If I see you again I’ll keep you posted!”

They step outside into the cool night air and Dorian can’t see Dariax anywhere. His heart is still beating rapidly in his chest and his palms are terribly sweaty. He wipes them off on his pants and decides that he needs a hot shower and his warm bed after this terrible disaster. His body feels as if he just ran a marathon.

So much for a quiet, peaceful night.

As soon as the guard leaves Dorian looks around frantically. If Dariax didn’t make it outside, there’s no way Dorian can convince this guy to open the gym up again without telling him the truth—something Dorian desperately does not want to do.

“Hey, over here!”

Dorian turns around and sees Dariax waving out of one of the bushes. His hair is wet and sticking to his forehead, his face is flushed and his eyes glassy, but he has a wide, reckless smile on his face that makes Dorian’s heart leap into his throat and press on his windpipe.

“What the fuck, man?”, Dorian hisses as he walks over to Dariax who gets up now, slightly swaying on his feet. There are some yellow leaves stuck in his auburn hair.

“Damn, buddy, that was awesome! You seriously have a velvet tongue, how did you even do that?”

“I asked nicely. What the actual fuck, Dariax? Why did your friends think that was a good idea?”

Dariax looks at him sheepishly and shrugs.

“Ah—to tell you the truth, I don’t know.”

“Sounds like they were fucking you over”, Dorian says and starts walking back towards the dorm. Some fine mist hangs between the trees, which look mostly black except for those who reach into the light of the street lamps. The orange and brown colored leaves remind Dorian of Dariax’ hair.

“Yeah. Sounds like it, huh.”

Dariax is quiet after that, something which Dorian, for some reason, finds even more disturbing than hearing Dariax’ sex-noises through a locked door.

“You okay?”, he asks after two minutes of walking in silence.

Dariax turns to look at him and the smile that appears on his face doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah, sure. You know how it is, people just fuck you over. That’s how it works, I guess.”

“It doesn’t have to work like this”, Dorian says, his brow furrowed and his hands itchy to reach out and tussle Dariax’ wet hair for comfort. He doesn’t even know if Dariax wants to be comforted. Or wants to be comforted by Dorian specifically.

Dorian doesn’t even know why he feels the need to comfort Dariax, seeing as to how it’s his own fault for getting into such a situation in the first place.

“Hm, maybe. But I guess you showed up to save the day”, Dariax says, looking at Dorian thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I didn’t fuck you over”, Dorian agrees and holds open the door for them as they reach the dorm.

“Yeah. You didn’t. Thanks, buddy. I owe you one.”

*

The security guard’s name is Orym, he knows Fearne from taking some druid classes on the side on top of his fighter classes and he enjoys blueberry muffins.

“So, how did it go with your girlfriend?”, he asks while chewing on the muffin that Dorian handed him a few moments ago.  

“We broke up”, Dorian replies with a gravelly voice and Orym pulls a face.

“I’m sorry, man.”

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks again for helping me with my phone.”

“It’s no problem at all. Thank you for this muffin.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you around.”

*

Dorian is pleased to find that the steady trickle of loud people that Dariax used to invite to their room before is thinning. He still goes out drinking and partying a lot, and he still has guests over to play Mario Kart or some horrible drinking game, but overall Dorian’s having more peace and quiet than ever before since he moved into this room with Dariax.

On a Wednesday night Dariax is sprawled out on his bed flipping through his phone. Dorian wonders if he’s going through his contacts, considering whom to call on for some. Well. Drinking or sex, probably.

Dorian hopes it’s not sex. And if it is sex, then for sex that is supposed to happen far away from here.

“How come you never go out?”, Dariax wants to know.

Dorian looks up from the sheet music he’s working on. He’s humming along quietly as he writes down, erases, writes down again and corrects the song he’s trying to write. He finds that he actually likes working in companionable silence, even though he didn’t think this would be possible with Dariax as his roommate a few weeks ago.

Dariax doesn’t seem to mind not talking as long as there is some sort of sound in the room—and Dorian’s humming apparently counts.

“How do you mean? I go out all the time”, Dorian says and looks up from his paper, cocking his head to regard Dariax who’s head is now hanging off of the side of the bed so he looks back at Dorian upside down.

“Yeah but like, partying. Drinking. College stuff, you know. You just hang out with the scary lady and she seems to like partying.”

“First of all, her name’s Opal. And I guess she can be kind of scary, but only if you’re a dick. And second of all, I hang out with other people! I met this very nice faun in my bard class and we’re making music from time to time. And—I don’t know. Partying is just not. Uh... It’s just not...”

Dorian sighs and leans against the wall behind him. The room is so scrappy that some of the wallpaper is coming down in little flakes in some places. He absentmindedly starts picking at his pillow.

“I never really went to parties before coming here. It’s just. I don’t know. New. I’m not like you. You know, with all the drinking and partying and—and uh. Sex. I guess.”

He can feel his ears burning and his cheeks heating up as he mumbles the end of his sentence. Dariax blinks at him and drops his phone on his face.

“Ow, fuck—okay. Wait. Are you saying that you’re a party-virgin and an actual virgin?”

“Oh come on, man, why do you have to say it like that? I’ve been to parties! But not—you know? College parties! And I never really drank alcohol before. It seems... I don’t know. Shifty.”

“Shifty”, Dariax repeats and a shit-eating grin spreads over his face, lighting up his eyes with a shimmer of mischief that Dorian finds very disconcerting.

“So you are a virgin.”

Dorian throws his pencil at Dariax and misses.

“So what? There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin! We can’t all walk around like you sleeping with people left and right!”

Dariax chuckles, obviously pleased with himself.

“Very true, I’m one of a kind. So, okay. But you kissed people, right?”, he wants to know.

“Why is that even relevant?”, Dorian hisses. He decides to throw his pillow next and Dariax almost falls off the bed trying to dodge it as he laughs.

“It’s not, I’m just curious! You’re always super uptight and mysterious, I know shit all about you and you’ve basically seen me banging someone at least twice!”

Dorian tries and fails to keep his poise as he flails his arms around.

“I could’ve lived happily without having seen any of that!”

“So that means you never kissed anyone?”, Dariax asks again, his grin wide and his eyebrows offensively wiggling. Dorian wishes he had some sort of cake that he could press Dariax’ face into.

“No, never. Are you happy now?”

“Would you like to kiss someone?”, Dariax wants to know and leans forward on the bed. He seems to have decided that sitting upright is the better choice in case Dorian decides to throw something else at him.

“I—I mean. I don’t know? I haven’t found the right person to kiss yet!”

“Ah, you’re one of those guys”, Dariax says with a wise nod that drives Dorian up the walls.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know? Like a romantic. True love and shit.”

“I wouldn’t—I. I haven’t really thought about it much. It’s not that important to me.”

Dariax pulls a face and nods, as if he understands perfectly what it means to not much care about kissing, sex or relationships. Dorian doubts that he actually understands with the frequency in which he drags people into his bed.

“I guess it’s not bad to wait for someone special”, Dariax concedes with a lopsided smile. “My first kiss was a total disaster, I didn’t know what I was doing at all and the dude told me it was like kissing a bowl of rice pudding.”

Dorian stares at him.

“That’s such a horrible thing to say”, he answers and Dariax shrugs.

“Yeah, I guess. He could’ve been nicer about it.”

Dorian’s brain is reeling.

Dariax had his first kiss with a guy. Dariax doesn’t only like women.

“Oh gods, I wish you hadn’t told me”, Dorian groans and presses the palms of his hands on his eyes until he sees little, colorful specs dancing on the inside of his eyelids. “What if I kiss someone I actually like and it turns out to be a completely terrible?”

He lowers his hands and stares at Dariax who stares back at Dorian with an intensity that surprises him.

“I mean. I guess you could just practice”, Dariax says.

“Oh yeah, sure. I’ll ask the first random person I meet in the hallway—“

“I would do it. Practice with you, I mean.”

Dorian blinks. He can feel the heat rising in his face and knows that his cheeks are turning purple.

“I—uh. That’s. Well. That’s very kind of you. But I’ll—I guess I’ll just figure it out on my own.”

Dorian chuckles nervously and glances back at Dariax who looks at him for a second longer before flopping back down onto his bed.

“Sure thing, buddy”, he says quietly and it’s probably just Dorian’s imagination that he sounds a bit disappointed.

*

“Dorian. Hey, Dorian!”

Dariax’ voice cuts through a dream about flying through space naked and Dorian opens his eyes. He is met with darkness and turns his head over to look towards Dariax’ side of the room. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to adjust and the confusion and sleep to drain out of him.

“Huh?”

“Hey, sorry. I—uh. I kinda had—I kinda had a nightmare?”

“Sorry to hear that”, Dorian rasps and rubs at his eyes, “was it the one about the giant dwarven woman again?”

“Ah, no. Not this time. I—uh. Do you mind maybe just… I don’t know. Talking to me a little? Or, ah—humming? I would scoot over but your bed is probably a bit too small”, Dariax rambles and laughs nervously.

Dorian is too tired to get flustered about the prospect of cuddling with his roommate.

“You can scoot over. But don’t hog the blanket”, he mumbles and makes room in his tiny bed, pressing his back against the wall and lifting his blanket up, his eyes already falling shut again.

“Oh fuck yeah”, he hears Dariax whisper. There’s a rustling, the sound of naked feet on a wooden floor and then the mattress dips and Dariax climbs into bed with him, his body way warmer than Dorian expected it to be.

He’s wearing nothing but boxers.

“You sure this is okay?”, Dariax whispers into the dark and Dorian makes a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat before letting the blanket fall down over Dariax. His arms simply drops which is probably way too close to a hug in this position as they lie face to face on the mattress that was not made for two people to sleep on it.

“Thanks a lot, buddy. You’re the best”, Dariax whispers. Dorian knows that Dariax is pretty dense simply because he’s a dwarf, but while he drifts back off to sleep he feels the tension in Dariax’ body. This nightmare must have been deeply upsetting for someone as carefree and jovial as Dariax to ask for goddamn snuggles in the middle of the night.

Dorian starts humming. It’s faint and definitely not his best and probably not even a real song, but slowly, ever so slowly, he can feel Dariax relax beside him as they both fall asleep again.

What his sleepy brain did not account for when Dorian allowed Dariax entry into his bed was how they might wake up in completely different positions to the ones they fell asleep in and how his body was a mean betrayer set out to humiliate Dorian.

As he slowly comes back to consciousness Dorian realizes how incredibly warm it is. The next thing he notices is that there is a quietly snoring dwarf pressed against his side, one leg pushed over Dorian’s legs. Dariax, sometime during the night, has curled into Dorian so his nose is now pressed somewhere close to Dorian’s ribs. He can feel Dariax’ hot breath tickle his exposed skin.

This is the most skin-on-skin contact Dorian has ever had with someone who is not related to him.

Dariax’ arm is curled around his waist and Dorian has no idea how he’ll be able to get to the bathroom without waking Dariax up or alerting him to the fact that Dorian is suffering a terrible case of a morning boner.

Yeah, he definitely didn’t think this through when he allowed Dariax in here. If Dariax pulls his leg up a little more his thigh will absolutely come in contact with Dorian’s dick and he is not ready for that to happen.

Not even a little bit.

Dorian can’t help but notice that Dariax smells kind of nice. And the feeling of naked skin on naked skin feels so much better than he imagined it would. He should probably not think about skin on skin contact too much in his current predicament but Dariax decides that this is the right moment to move his leg.

Dorian makes an undignified noise in the back of his throat as Dariax’ thigh rubs against his erection and before he can really consider what his best course of action might be, he’s already shoving Dariax off of him.

Since these beds are tiny, that also means shoving Dariax off the bed.

There is loud thunk as Dariax hits the floor and bolts upright with a yelp, his hair tousled and untidy, his eyes barely open.

“I didn’t do it!”, he slurs loudly, holding both hands up in a gesture of surrender and Dorian can’t help but wonder what in the nine hells Dariax has been dreaming about.

“Sorry, man. You were—uh. Getting a little close”, Dorian says and sits up, carefully pulling the blanket over his crotch.

Dariax blinks up at him.

“Sorry, buddy. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable”, he mumbles and sways to his feet to stumble back over to his own bed.

Dorian immediately misses the warmth and the feeling of naked skin against his but he pushes the thought away and clears his throat.

“Did you sleep okay after your nightmare?”, he asks.

“Hmhm. Like a baby”, Dariax mumbles into his pillow. His face is pressed into it and he didn’t even take the take to cover himself with his blanket. “You have the most beautiful voice.”

Dorian’s cheeks begin to burn and he grips the blanket tighter.

“Thank you.”

“’S no problem.”

Dorian glances over at his roommate. Dariax looks surprisingly peaceful like this and it doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep again. The quiet snore returns and his mouth falls open slightly. When Dorian finally gets up to take a shower, he shivers slightly in the cold before carefully stepping over to the other bed and pulling the blanket over Dariax.

*

“You know what, I feel honored that you’re going to trust me with your first time”, Dariax says, looking endlessly pleased with himself.

Dorian sputters.

“Excuse m—“

“Your first time drinking, buddy”, Dariax explains and laughs as he sees the flush on Dorian’s cheeks.

They’re both sitting on Dariax’ bed—because Dariax doesn’t care about getting spots on his sheets at all—with a bottle of liquor that is bright red and looks a little radioactive.

“Well, I think I would just—uh. Prefer it… to try this out with someone I trust before I make a fool of myself in front of a whole party, you know”, Dorian says. When no answer comes, he turns his head to look at Dariax.

Dariax’ eyes are shimmering with something that Dorian can’t quite read but it makes his heart race in his chest. Dariax never looked at him like this before. His expression is almost soft with the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Glad to hear you trust me, Dorian. I trust you, too.”

Dorian clears his throat and looks away, the tension in the air between them suddenly too much for him.

“I am very trustworthy”, he jokes and grabs the bottle to unscrew it and smell the liquid inside.

“Ugh—it’s revolting”, he remarks and coughs a little.

Dariax chuckles.

“That’s how you know it’s good”, he says with a nod and gestures for Dorian to take the first sip.

Dorian has tried some champagne before, some beer. Some wine. But never more than half a glass. He never tried drinking any hard liquor and this stuff is burning his throat and sending heatwaves through his whole body immediately.

“Wow”, he coughs and hands the bottle to Dariax.

“Good stuff, right?”, Dariax says and

“It’s terrible!”

“Yeah”, Dariax says with a wide grin and a twinkle in his eyes.

“I don’t think a thing can be both good and terrible at the same time”, Dorian remarks, his face still in a grimace as he tries to get used to the burning sensation of hard alcohol in his throat.

“Nonsense, those are like, all of my favorite movies!”, Dariax says and takes a huge swig out of the bottle before handing it back to Dorian.

Dorian feels weirdly honored that Dariax decided to stay in on a Saturday night just to hang out with him and test the waters with his roommate while no doubt all his friends are out there partying.

“Like what movies”, Dorian wants to know and takes another careful sip out of the bottle. His mind provides him with the terrible thought that this might as well count as an indirect kiss, something that is entirely idiotic and not useful at all.

“Okay, so, you know when someone asks you a question about yourself and suddenly you have forgotten all of your interests and hobbies and favorites and pretty much everything about yourself?”, Dariax says, his brow furrowed as he tries to think of a movie that is both terrible and good at the same time.

“Tell you what. I can say that two of my favorite movies of all time are Pacific Rim and Mad Max, and those are not terrible, mind you, they’re just good. But if I manage to think of one that is both terrible and good, I’ll tell you immediately.”

Dorian has neither seen Mad Max nor Pacific Rim. When he tells Dariax as much his roommate looks aghast.

“Oh my gosh, Dorian. Buddy. My boy. That is—no. No, I can’t let this stand. Grab your laptop, we’re watching Pacific Rim right now”, Dariax orders and looks at Dorian expectantly.

This is how Dorian ends up crying about giant robots. And maybe also brothers.

Dariax hands him a tissue and sniffs.

“Good stuff, right?”, Dariax asks and empties the bottle as the end credits start rolling. Dorian nods and watches as Dariax throws the empty bottle to the side before pulling out a second one from under his bed.

Dorian is definitely tipsy. He drank way less than Dariax, of course, but he can feel a faint buzzing in his head and his vision seems to be slowed. There is a feeling of heaviness in his legs as he accepts the new bottle—this time the liquor is bright blue and tastes even worse—and drinks.

The new sensations in his body aren’t unpleasantly.

In a way, his soul feels lighter like this, less anxious, less unsure about things, which is pretty nice.

“So, what’s your favorite movie?”, Dariax wants to know.

“I—hm. I don’t know. I’m not much of a movie guy. I suppose I liked Lord of the Rings when I watched it a few years ago”, he says, thinking about the movies he has seen and which ones he enjoyed the most. Weirdly enough it’s exactly as Dariax said—now that someone asked about what he likes, Dorian can’t seem to remember much about himself.

“Good choice”, Dariax says with an approving nod that makes Dorian feel weirdly pleased.

“I guess we could totally do a Lord of the Rings marathon, you know? Get some snacks, order pizza, get fucked up. Hey, we could make it a drinking game!”

Dorian isn’t sure why there’s a tingling sensation under his skin, or why his heart starts beating faster in light of Dariax’ suggestion. Maybe it’s because he feels happy that Dariax wants to spend more time with Dorian. Maybe it’s just because the alcohol is getting to Dorian.

“What about your other friends?”, Dorian asks.

“What about them?”

“Well—wouldn’t you rather spend more time with them? You know—partying. Going skinny dipping. That sort of thing.”

Dorian knows that he’s fishing for compliments. He knows and he feels embarrassed about it but he can’t stop. Validation is something that he craves way too much for his own comfort, but the alcohol has lowered his defenses—or raised his stupidity. Either one of those.

“Well—you know when we went skinny dipping and they fucked me over, that was like. Not cool? And you got me outta there, even though you don’t really do that sorta thing, you know? So—that was not the first time I got fucked over by people I called my friends, but it was totally the first time someone bailed me out of stuff. So yeah. I’d rather stick with you, if that’s alright with you”, Dariax says, taking a few long gulps from the bottle of blue liquid.

Dorian feels a rush of heat under his skin. It’s not unusual for him to feel strongly about being praised or validated, but it usually doesn’t hit this hard.

He swallows and laughs nervously, grabbing the bottle from Dariax and taking a big sip that burns his throat.

“Yeah—yeah, alright”, he croaks and Dariax beams at him.

“I’m sorry, by the way. That—uh. That those people left you behind”, he adds quietly and hands the bottle back to Dariax.

“Oh, you know. I suppose it’s on me. I’m not very smart and I’m not good on my own, so I tend to follow people’s leads and they—uh. I guess they get bored with me, or something? Anyway. It’s not really important. Hey, how do you feel about watching Mad Max, too?”

*

“Hey, my friend is throwing a party on Saturday. Do you want to come?”

“Are you kidding? Do I wanna take your partying virginity? Hell, yes!”

“Dariax...”

“Sorry buddy, I got carried away.”

*

Dorian is still thinking about rice pudding on Friday.

The fact that somewhere out there is a person who would tell someone else something mean like this makes him nervous to try and kiss anyone. What if he actually likes the person he’s kissing and gets told that his kisses feel like a bowl of rice pudding?

Or worse, something even slimier?

He’s trying to get another song for one of his bard classes done, but he’s unable to concentrate.

“Hey, Dariax”, he says and looks over at Dariax who’s watching cat videos on YouTube, “can I ask you something? About—uh. About... kissing?”

Dariax looks up at him with bright eyes.

“Sure”, he says and grins.

Dorian swallows.

“Uh—I was thinking. How—uh. How did you get better at kissing? Did you practice with anyone?”

“Nah, not really. I mean, not like that. I just went for it again and again until I got better at it. Guess it would’ve been nice to have someone around for practice, but I made it work anyway. No one’s been complaining for a while now.”

Dorian chews on his bottom lip and pokes the paper he’s working on with a pencil.

“So—uh. You said—“

“Yes”, Dariax shoots back immediately, as if he knows what Dorian is going to say next. Dorian feels the familiar heat rise up in his chest as he looks at his roommate who seems very intense all of a sudden, leaning forward and shutting his laptop, his eyes fixed on Dorian.

“I—uh. I don’t. I don’t really... I don’t like... guys?”, Dorian says and his voice sounds way too hoarse in his own ears. Dariax’ shoulders sag a little but he shrugs.

“Doesn’t really matter for this, right? It’s just kissing.”

“Right. Okay. Uh—so. If I—if I wanted to try this...  how do you—how do we make this work?”, he asks.

His heart is beating so fast, Dorian is afraid it’s going to break his rib cage and fly out of the window. Dariax puts his laptop to the side and pats the mattress beside himself, his eyes still fixed on Dorian’s face with an intensity that makes heat pool in Dorian’s lower abdomen.

He pushes the feeling aside and gets up from his own bed to sit down next to Dariax.

“I know what this is about”, Dariax says with a sly grin.

“Uh—you do?”

Dorian doesn’t know what this is about aside from his own nagging sense of anxiety and the fact that he can’t stop thinking about kissing Dariax—which is entirely Dariax’ fault because he offered this whole practicing thing in the first place.

“Yeah. You’re going to check out some ladies on that party tomorrow”, Dariax says, his grin widening as he scoots closer to Dorian. Dorian can feel Dariax’ body heat and he presses his back against the wall, his fingers digging into the blanket crumpled below his legs.

“Ah—yeah. You got me”, he lies and laughs nervously. Dariax winks and gives him fingerguns.

“Don’t worry, buddy. I gotcha! I’ll be the best wingman ever. Here, just lemme—“

And Dariax climbs into Dorian’s lap, straddling him, his face so close to Dorian’s that Dorian can feel his breath on his cheek.

He holds his breath as he notices all the freckles on Dariax’ face, his scruffy beard, his hazel-brown eyes...

His heart is stumbling in his chest.

“Thanks”, he rasps.

“No need to be nervous, I’m sure you’ll be way better at this than I was the first time around. Just lemme take the lead, okay?”

Dorian nods.

If he gets hard now, Dariax will definitely feel it.

Fuck.

Dariax raises his hands and tilts Dorian’s chin up while his other hand gently cups Dorian’s cheek. It’s already almost too much for Dorian. His lips open slightly and his eyes widen as Dariax gets closer still, his nose gently touching Dorian’s.

“If you want me to stop, just smack me real hard”, Dariax whispers and his breath tickles Dorian’s lips before the distance between their mouths is closed and Dariax is kissing him, his hazel-brown eyes closed.

Dariax’ lips are warm and a little chapped and Dorian gasps against his mouth helplessly—something that Dariax seems to take as encouragement. He tilts his head to the side to get a better angle and then his lips press against Dorian’s in earnest.

Dorian’s heart stops for a few seconds before restarting with doubled speed.

His whole body seems to be on fire all of a sudden and he can’t help but raise his hands to touch Dariax—just touch him anywhere. He needs to ground himself, hold onto something, or he might just get lost in the feeling of Dariax’ warm lips carefully moving against his.

It’s a slow kiss, almost sweet, but Dorian’s skin is set aflame.

I don’t like guys, he thinks as his whole body decides that he must get closer to Dariax, wrap his arms around him, pull him in, cup the back of his head so he doesn’t move away—

“This okay?”, Dariax mumbles against his lips and he sounds so out of breath as if he just sprinted a whole mile.

“Yeah—I. Yeah.”

“You wanna try with tongue?”

Dorian swallows. There is still heat pooling in his abdomen. He should say no. He should stop doing this. This feels dangerous and stupid.

But it also feels so good.

“Yeah, okay”, he whispers.

Dariax doesn’t wait for another invite, he immediately leans forward again to close the distance between them and as Dorian’s hands dig themselves into the back of Dariax’s shirt and his heart starts racing even faster Dariax slides his tongue into Dorian’s mouth and Dorian’s mind goes blank.

There is a sound that is dangerously close to a moan and it takes him a few seconds to realize that it’s coming from him.

He holds onto Dariax like a drowning man before he manages to kiss back.

The second their tongues slide against one another there is a sound from Dariax too, one that shoots directly into Dorian’s lap. His hips buckle up involuntarily, his arms wrap around Dariax tighter and Dariax presses closer, his hips grinding down against him.

Dorian is lost.

And he’s so, so fucked.

It feels so incredibly good to kiss Dariax. He forgot why he even started kissing him, all he knows that he doesn’t want to stop, that he wants to get closer, wants to touch more skin—

He’s hard by now, and so is Dariax. Dorian can feel his erection through the jeans that Dariax is wearing.

Dorian buries his hands in Dariax’ hair and pulls. Dariax makes a helpless sound and bites down on Dorian’s bottom lip before sucking on it lightly and Dorian is afraid that he might come in his pants just from kissing and the delicious friction of Dariax’ crotch rubbing against his.

Shit, shit, shit, shit—

Before Dorian can make a fool of himself Dariax pulls back.

He’s panting, his eyes are glassy, his lips red and wet from kissing and he looks so pretty, Dorian is momentarily stunned by the revelation that he might not be into girls or guys or pretty much anyone.

But he’s definitely, terribly, irrevocably into Dariax.

Fuck.

“S—sorry”, Dariax gasps and clambers off of Dorian’s lap. “That was—I’m. I—uh. I got carried away a little. Didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries.”

Dorian swallows and stares at him, his eyes wide and his heart pressing against his rib cage.

“It’s okay”, he rasps. “I—uh. I got a little carried away, too.”

Dariax throws him a lopsided smile.

“Well. I’d say you’re good to go.”

And he gets off the bed and stumbles over to the bathroom, leaving Dorian behind with a rapidly beating heart, tingling lips and the revelation that he has the world’s worst crush on Dariax.

[vad-hander]

JAEBEOM, THE GUY FROM THE BAR

Pairing: Jaebeom x reader

Genre: Series | Eventual Smut | Angst | Fluff

Warnings: break up, cheating, strangers to lovers, mentions of drinking

Words: 2.3k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You were sitting at the bar playing with the glass in your hands. The cocktail you were consuming for the past 15 minutes was almost gone and you were considering what should be your next order in your head. Your eyes ran after the bartender, watching him shuffle the bottle, finally pouring liquid into the glass of a blonde girl that was hungrily watching it fill up.

You lifted your arm, letting the guy behind the bar know you needed a refill, one more. You already lost count to the number of drinks you had in the last hour, trying to make your brain ignore the void inside of your chest. Your vision was getting blurry and it’s exactly what you were trying to do. You were trying to lose your sences with alcohol to not see what was happening to your left. The more drinks you downed, the less you saw with your peripheral vision. Everything went as planned, and you put all of your energy to erase the memory of this not being your initial plan when you left your place a couple of hours ago. You watched bartender finally move in your direction, sighing in relief. You were beginning to think he ignored you on purpose and were considering the option of becoming the annoying drunk customer that would make a scene for not getting their drink for too long.

“Let this one be on me.” you heard a voice behind you, not paying too much attention to it. Another guy was trying to be smooth with a wasted pretty girl at the bar, nothing new, you were just glad they weren’t bothering you.

Bartender turned his head towards you, finally stopping in front of your stool. You were about to open your mouth to order, having a slight smile on your lips, when your eyes finally focused on his face and you saw he wasn’t looking at you, his eyes were pierced to someone behind you. You felt anger blow up your body in a second, making your face red. You felt like you could punch the person who just got in front of you, right when you were about to order. Sudden anger made you want to turn around and fight with that person, until you realised bartender was looking back at you. He clearly was asking for your permission with his eyes and the sudden thought of you being the wasted pretty girl that someone was trying to hit on crossed your mind. You turned around immediately, feeling your face get even redder now due to the guys’ behind you intense staring. You felt puzzled, shy and confused all at the same time. You were pretty sure you swallowed your tongue in shock when your eyes ran over the stranger’s face and you had to lick your lips to make sure you didn’t. His handsome features made you scared and more than thinking what even made him talk to you, you were scared the drink he’d get for you could be poisoned. You stuttered trying to get a reply from your throat and he chuckled lightly at you. You noticed how his eyes turned into crescent moons when he did so and something inside of you switched.

“I swear, I’m not a creep.” he smiled kindly. “If you’re okay with me sitting here, I’ll explain.” you noticed how the seat next to you was empty and you wondered if he made someone leave while you were absorbed into watching the bartender.

“Okay…” you finally found it in you to speak. “You can sit, but not the drink. I’m able to pay for myself.”

“Deal.” he sat down and ordered a whiskey. Bartender nodded and turned to you, probably seeing how angered you were before and willing to take your order first. You asked for another rum with coke, turning your attention to the guy that seated himself next to you. Your eyes ran over the silhouette of his long nose with a sharp tip, plump upper lip that reminded you the shape of a heart, quickly running over his round but sharp cheeks. You noticed how he had his ears pierced and when you lowered your eyes to his hands that were laying at the bar you noticed silver rings on a couple of his fingers. You lifted your eyes back up meeting with his piercing gaze once again. You felt a flash of embarrassment and wondered if he noticed you checking him out.

He was handsome, but you weren’t interested. You repeated this before tasting your new drink on your tongue and licking your lips again.

“So…?” you asked when he kept staring and sipping on his whiskey quietly. You were beginning to feel awkward under his gaze. “I’m wondering what made you think I’m in need of a company?” you allowed the glass to meet the stone of the table, running your fingers through your hair to push them back. He did the same and you suddenly found it hard to breathe. You thought maybe, you hit your limit with the drinks tonight, deciding to not finish this glass.

“I watched you for a while and lost count of the drinks you had in just this hour. You don’t look like a party monster.” You made an offended face and a smile lit up his face again. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. Plus, I don’t think I ever saw you here before, and I’m a regular here. You don’t seem to be trying to seduce anyone so I guessed something happened to you and you might need someone to help you get home.” you were surprised with his precise observations to the extent of forgetting to not show it all on your face.

“So, you’re saying you’re not a creep and then you say you want to walk me home.” you made a suspicious face expression and he chuckled making a loud enough noise for you to hear it.

“And if it bothered you to show me where you live I would’ve taken you to my place.” he pointed biting his lower lip.

“Oh, that is definitely calming, totally a better option.” you nodded and the both of you laughed.

“You’re pretty when you smile.” he suddenly said with a serious face expression. You stopped laughing too and felt redness crawl over your face. The light atmosphere you felt come with laughter left you exactly same second the words left his mouth. Your eyes ran over the club and you didn’t find anything better than grabbing the glass and taking a sip of the drink you decided a second ago to not drink anymore. You felt soberer than before and the liquid even gave your throat a burn as if it was your first sip.

You weren’t used to being hit on by handsome guys at clubs due to two reasons: 1 - you weren’t going out much and 2 – well, actually, it was the first time you were all by yourself drowning yourself in drinks. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t not say it when I saw your face light up, you were too serious this whole time.”

“Thanks…” you coughed feeling the conversation die in awkwardness.

“So, are you okay? Something happened? You can tell me, I’m a complete stranger, nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m…fine.” you chewed on your lip wondering if it’s a good idea to share your life at the club when your practically wasted.

“Is it because of the guy over there?” his finger pointed behind you and you turned around with the speed of a turtle to see where he was pointing.

“What made you think so?” you quickly turned back, genuinely wondering.

“You keep on glancing back there, and every time you do you down your drink. For the past hour people switched around but your eyes kept glued to the only person that’s not moving over there.” He summarized.

“And you’re a regular here because you come to watch lonely girls get drunk and then offer to take them home? Whether their or yours?” you tried to change the topic, expanding your hand to the drink but changing your decision immediately.

“No, I’m a regular here because I live two blocks down the road. I was here with a friend, but he had to leave early because his girlfriend called him. I noticed you when I got here because you’re not the usual type to hang out here and it caught my eye. You caught my eye so I watched if you were with someone, but then I noticed you drinking non-stop and noticed you stare there. I came because I only wanted to make sure you’re fine and safe, and I still want to know that.” The tone that he spoke with made you believe him and you felt a tiny bit more relaxed than before. Maybe it was naïve to believe the first stranger you met but the alcohol in your system told you it’s not a big deal. You didn’t live in this area, you never came here before, talking to him won’t actually change much in your life because you wouldn’t remember anything by tomorrow, keeping in mind the amount of drinks you just had.

“That’s my boyfriend.” you simply stated.

“Who?” he asked confused and looked behind you.

“The guy that don’t move around, he’s who I came with. We’re dating.”

“With him?” he asked in disbelief, forcing for you to look there once again, to watch your boyfriend in action.

Your eyes immediately found a tall guy in the crowd. Currently he was dry humping a girl in the corner. He looked even more wasted now than twenty minutes ago when you looked at him last.

“Why is he with someone else there and you’re here. Are you two in that type of relationship?”

“That’s his best friend’s sister, they’re just having fun, don’t imagine things that aren’t there.” You defended, feeling yourself dumber with every word that left your mouth.

“You’re the one that’s trying to drink away the pain, I guess it’s you who should stop imagining.”

“It’s not that.” You said seriously, turning back to face the guy, not being able to look there for any longer.

“Why are you not with them having fun?”

“I don’t like to dance if it’s not just me and him.”

“He just left you here alone? For the whole evening? Not even checking on you once?” you looked the guy in the eyes knowing for a fact he’s right, but you told yourself he wasn’t. He doesn’t know everything. He doesn’t know you or your boyfriend. He doesn’t know he actually loves you. “He doesn’t love you.” he added a silent moment after.

“You crossed the line.” You tried to tell him to apologize calmly but he definitely didn’t catch it.

“If I was your boyfriend I wouldn’t leave you for a minute for some cheap-ass girl from a cheap diner around the corner. I’m sure I saw her there during day time.”

“What’s the exact reason for your lecture?” you were getting worked up. Who is he to tell you shit about your boyfriend? Who is he to play with your emotions like that?

Your boyfriend always told you you were a little bit sensitive, you were jealous under circumstances you shouldn’t have and he was sweet and caring enough to reassure you. You knew this was just one of those occasions and it was your own decision to stay at the bar when she suggested to dance, you were the one who made yourself go crazy in jealousy.

“No reason, I just noticed something, thought I’ll say it as well, since we’re talking anyway.” You ran your eyes once again to the corner where your boyfriend was, before focusing on your glass. The conversation died and you thought maybe he’ll leave since now he knows you won’t fall for whatever he had in store. “How long have you two been together?”

“8 months.”

“Dump him.” He said freely and your eyes shot up to the guy on your right side. Did he lose his mind?

“What?”

“Dump the guy if 8 months into a relationship he finds it normal to leave you at the bar to drown in drinks to make out in front of your face with someone else. That’s fucked.”

“He’s drunk, that’s his friends’ sister and I’m drunk and sensitive. You can chill out, Sherlock Holmes, you won’t find anything interesting here.” You made an excusing face sitting straight to stare into your phone. The guy went quiet and you let him be, killing the time.

“Baby, I’m sorry I took too long.” you felt your boyfriend’s hands over your waist. His cheek landed on your shoulder blade and he sighed letting you smell all the drinks he had. His body weight almost made you fall off the stool and the guy you talked to before prevented you from falling by your knee. You tried to ignore him and turned your face to see your boyfriend.

“Let’s go to yours?” you asked in hope.

“Yeah. Can Jack’s sister come with us? She can’t go back home, she said she’s fine with the couch.”

“It’s your place.” you nodded.

“You’re the best.” He kissed your cheek leaving a wet mark there. “By the way, I missed you so much, I wish you went dancing with us, they played your favorite song, did you hear it?” your boyfriends words made what the stranger guy said die in your head immediately.

“Yeah, me too. Let’s go?” you asked trying to stand up under his weight and he found balance allowing for you to do so. “See? You’re wrong, bye, good luck.” you said to the handsome guy, taking your boyfriends expanded hand and leaving the club with him. And his best friend’s sister too, of course.

-

more people voted for Jaebeom fic, so here's pt.1

I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you think! <3

[bugsyfics]

The Flower Who Bloomed (Part 2)

Undertaker x Reader

Fandom: BB

Summary: Undertaker requests for another visit with Y/N despite the conflict he is causing. Like Undertaker said, “once a lie is unraveled, the truth comes tumbling forth” —and so it does.

Warnings: Smut/notsfw, some serious teasing

Word Count: 1.8k

————•————•————•————•————•————•————•————

After you leave Undertaker’s shop, dress slightly disheveled and hair every which way, there’s no doubt that you have been absolutely ravished. With one good stare it is obvious what activities you were previously involved in. But even as you walk aimlessly around town to find a carriage in the brisk fall air, Undertaker’s words still play in your head.

•••

“Do not tell anyone about our little encounter, dear. He wouldn’t —they wouldn’t be very happy,” Undertaker spoke low, biting his tongue.

Undertaker phoned the earl, informing him he had seen you trip on the sidewalk, and tended to your twisted ankle. While that was a great excuse, nothing could get past Sebastian and you knew he would try to put the pieces together.

“Come here before you leave, my little flower,” Undertaker motioned to you, “I want to see you again soon. How does next week sound?”

You were unsure after the mess you got yourself into, but you just couldn’t say no to him.

•••

Fortunately when you arrive, no one is at the entryway to greet you, so you quickly walk to your bedroom. As you hum to yourself, changing into your nightgown, a knock at the door startles you. You slowly open the door to the hallway.

“Let me see your ankle, Y/N,” Sebastian says plainly. “It won’t take long. I need to check if it’s sprained.”

You smile wearily and sit on your bed holding out your leg. Sebastian grabs your ankle gingerly and observes it for much longer than you would like. After wrapping it with gauze, he looks beside himself, eyeing a pile of your clothes. “I can take those down to the laundry for you.”

“N-no! U-um I mean… it’s my job anyway,” you stammer and smile at him awkwardly.

“I insist, Y/N. You shouldn’t be walking at least for a couple days.”

Sebastian goes to pick up your clothing and you sweat nervously, aware that your soiled undergarments are stashed between your dress. Of course he wouldn’t say anything because it would be ungentleman-like, but the idea of him finding your ruined panties swallows you whole.

•••

Some days pass and surprisingly no one brings up the glaring flaws in your excuse. Though Sebastian has been observing you more often and it’s clear he’s on to you.

Instead of letting your curiosity eat away at you, you decide to ask Sebastian a question only he can answer. You stand in the doorway of the kitchen as he prepares dinner and clear your throat. “Good afternoon! I have a quick question about something that crossed my mind recently. It may sound a bit strange.”

Sebastian looks up at you and wipes his hands on the towel laid across his shoulder. You notice the slightest smirk cross his lips as he nods for you to continue. “Is it possible that the Percy twins were killed by something inhuman?” You watch as he raises his eyebrows in amusement. “For instance, like in the tales where a supernatural being eats innocent children.”

“Where did this come from all of a sudden? I thought you didn’t believe in those silly tales,” Sebastian prys.

“W-well I don’t… There’s just no other way to explain it. There aren’t any witnesses and the way they were so brutally killed…” you falter from your rambling.

“Did you need evidence to believe in the Church, or was it just second nature for you?”

“I guess it was second nature.”

“Exactly, Y/N. So why question yourself, if what you believe is the only plausible explanation?”

You never thought about it that way. Undertaker wasn’t wrong when he said Sebastian knew all about the supernatural. Though at first glance you wouldn’t think this butler in black would be knowledgeable of such topics. You thank him and turn to leave, but notice a glow cross his orbs and you do a double take, unsure if what you saw was only your imagination.

•••

Here you are back in town the next afternoon to run some errands. Young Master warned you to be more careful and to pay attention to the time so you didn’t have another mishap. You expected his tone to be much harsher, though he is more mindful of what he says to you, since you are his youngest servant.

You cross off the last reminder on your list, smiling to yourself. The timepiece reads a quarter to one and you’re expected to arrive back at 3, giving you a little over two hours to spare. A jittery feeling starts in your belly when you hear the bell chime as you enter. Yet again, Undertaker is nowhere to be seen, so you call out to him.

“Hello? Sir, it’s Y/N.”

It’s eerily silent as you walk further in. You sit your bags down on his desk carefully and decide to call him once more. “Hel—” you gasp, feeling icy hands cover your eyes.

“It’s me, dearie,” Undertaker whispers in your ear, causing goosebumps to raise over your body. You eventually relax into him and pull his hands from your face.

“You scared me,” you giggle and turn towards him.

Undertaker’s hat is gone and his hair is pinned back as he stands simply wearing both a black long sleeved shirt and pants. His bangs still fall into his eyes, and you can’t help but feel bubbly. He grins at you, rubbing your arm lightly. “It’s only been a week and I’m craving you, my little flower.”

He rubs circles on your hip and leans down to kiss you, but pauses above your lips. “Oh how I crave you... but you told our little secret, didn’t you?”

“No. I promise I kept my word, sir,” you shake your head.

He presses you onto his desk and runs his fingers up your spine, until he reaches the back of your neck, gripping it firmly. “That is what you say, but how can I be so sure, poppet? I had an unlikely visitor last night, you see. Hehe, I didn’t think you would turn around and disobey me like this.”

“I swear, I can prove it to you!”

It never crossed your mind that perhaps this visitor was Sebastian. You were too worked up to even notice that minor detail.

“Well, show me you’re innocent, love. Then I’ll believe you,” Undertaker orders curtly and pulls away.

You unfold your arms and reach behind yourself undoing your gown, letting it fall freely and the cool air causes your exposed nipples to harden. Undertaker reaches up to caress one of your breasts fondly, toying at your small bud. “How exactly does this prove anything, love?”

The truth was, you were innocent, but your mistake was letting Sebastian take your clothes. He never once impeded on your privacy nor searched through your garments. To him your arousal was just strong enough to detect and he didn’t condone a Phantomhive maid being intimate with a close ally of the Young Master. Sebastian was aware that Undertaker often revealed much more than he should and your little involvement threatened the trust he had with the earl.

Naive as you were, you knew that giving yourself up to Undertaker once more would not only distract him from finger pointing, but also allow you to feel his hands touching your body again.

You shrug at Undertaker, biting back a moan as continues his assault on your swollen peaks. He stops to wrap his arms around you, rutting his clothed hard on against your bare pussy. One of his hands travels down your back while the other rakes through his light bangs hastily. You watch him with wide eyes as he reveals a hard stare and you gulp, wondering what his next move will be. “Do you remember what I taught you last week? Something that I said before ravishing you.”

You shake your head. There was certainly more than just one thing that you considered to be a lesson.

He laughs in a shallow manner and wags a finger at you, “Once a lie is unraveled… the truth comes tumbling forth, my little flower.” He pauses for a moment to pinch your nipples, causing you to whimper. “Sebastian knows.”

Your mouth falls open, but for two reasons: you can’t believe that Sebastian would go to such lengths to find you out and also at that very moment Undertaker brushes across your clit, spreading your slick with his fingers. He eagerly teases you in every way possible, practically making you drip onto the floor.

“W-wait! H-how would he—”

Undertaker grunts, putting his fingers to his lips to taste you. He takes his time sucking each finger as if he devoured an entire meal, savoring your sweetness.

“He could sense it —your arousal— after you returned.”

“Sense it how? He must have snooped through my clothes,” you scoff.

Undertaker shakes his head, rolling his eyes at you, “Have you not gotten it, love? The butler is a demon.”

He places his hands beside you, leaning onto your much smaller frame. His nose ghosts over your ear as he speaks, “He popped by last night, apparently not very happy about us having it away. Hehe, I guess your arousal exposed us, dearie. Right now I shouldn’t be here touching you the way I am —I was warned. But you make me drool with anticipation for your delicate flower.”

Undertaker grins, his face visibly brightens. His hands grab on your hips, even after revealing this shocking information. His grip is possessive, trapping you against himself as he hums into your neck. You love every bit of how he is holding you and you want this feeling to last, but how could Undertaker remain so unbothered?

He whispers, telling you he is ready to take you once again. Though when he pulls away and his face comes into view, your heart starts to race, heavily unsettled. You notice the same glow in his eyes as Sebastian’s, but there is a different gleam lying behind them. You knew at that moment why Undertaker was so infactuated with telling you about other beings, and specifically Sebastian. He certainly isn’t human either.

Undertaker is utterly amused as he watches your eyes widen just as his cock slips deep inside you. He sees that you connected the dots to his secret and he chuckles. “What is wrong my little flower? Have you figured out my age yet? Or is it too many centuries to count on your fingers?” He grabs your hand and places a kiss along your knuckles with a sly grin.

————•————•————•————•————•————•————•————

— bugs

Taglist: @second-weeb-chick

[dissociativesworld]

Unexpected Matrimony

Pairing: Captain Rex x reader

Word Count: ~1.9K

Tags: NSFW, slow-burn-ish (familiar with each other before the story), marriage for the mission, Rex sucks at flirting, reader teases the shit out of him, both are oblivious, PiV (wrap it up in rl), cum outside (whoa I know), some dom energy from Rex, not edited because this got rewritten three times already

A/N: Kinda find Rex hard to write, not being he's not amazing but because I feel like his character is a little more complex emotionally than some of the other clones? (I feel the same way about Echo, I'd love to write him but shit there's so many facets) idk either way - enjoy

Story below the cut

“So how’s it feel being the only clone trooper to be legally married?” You giggle, taking a sip of wine.

You had no idea why you and Rex getting married was so important to the mission but Anakin seemed pressed that you would say no. So much so that he didn’t tell either of you until Ahsoka let it slip on the ride here. While initially annoyed, you enjoyed Rex’s shocked face way too much.

“What the matter Captain? The idea of marrying me that appalling?” You elbowed him in the ribs, earning a hearty laugh from his crew.

He didn’t respond but looked even more flustered at your jesting. Well, there were certainly worse men in the Republic to be forced to marry than him.

Rex’s nervous chuckle brought you back to the moment.

“I have to admit, I never thought that would be something I experienced.” He rubbed the back of his head like he did when nervous.

Since when did you know that? You caught yourself. Being friends with Anakin and Padme meant you got more face time with the 501st than normal civilians so you and Rex weren’t strangers. You’d even accompanied them to 79s on more than one occasion. But Rex, while there, had always hung back a bit while you were there. Or at least that’s what his team told you.

Now it was just the two of you sitting in a honeymoon suite on some planet you’d never been to before while Anakin and the rest of the squad were traipsing around completing the mission. Maybe afterward he’d actually explain why you two were just sitting here. Surely Rex would be more useful helping out or at least happier than he seemed to be in your presence.

“Still bummed that it had to be me?” You circled back to your earlier joke.

Rex glanced up at you, his brown eyes searching your face. His face was hard to read, probably got plenty of practice with a general like Anakin.

“I definitely didn’t imagine it being you. But I wouldn’t consider that a bad thing.” His voice trailed off as he spoke, you almost couldn’t hear the last part.

“Aw well, I’m glad I’m not a complete letdown.” You laughed, happy to see you earned another blush from the man. “I guess the guys will never let you hear the end of this, huh?”

“I don’t mind. I get to rub it in their faces if anything.” Rex mumbled into his drink, a pink tint still coloring his face.

You giggled, biting your lower lips as you watched him. The muscle in his jaw was tensed as he swallowed, the tip of his tongue flicking across his lips. For a clone, he was so distinct and not just from the blond hair. The way he held himself was different, you’d noticed it the second you met him and he hadn’t disappointed since. You found her eyes dipping lower, enjoying the new sight of him without the top pieces of his armor on.

“You’re staring.” Rex’s voice brought you back to reality yet again.

“I can’t help it, you’re pretty good-looking you know.” You smirked, lifting your glass back up to your lips.

“You’re one to talk.” He chuckled. “You ever wonder why the boys are always inviting you out?”

You scoffed with a giggle, “here I thought it was because of my impeccable sense of humor.”

“I mean, you’re so much more than beautiful,” there was the neck scratch again. “You really haven’t noticed their flirting?”

You paused, considering the question.

“Nope, I just assumed they’re like that with all women.” You giggled, pausing a moment.

Maybe you should just go for it. What’s the harm? The poor guy was already married to you.

“To be honest I was probably watching you more than listening to them.” You feigned a cough before taking another sip of your drink.

Rex’s head snapped up.

“Why is that?”

“I told you, you’re a handsome guy.” You giggled.

Rex glanced back down at the floor for a second before standing from where he was leaning. Your eyes followed him, watching the way he moved toward you the way he always did. Shoulder’s back, spine straight, chin up. He paused in front of you before holding out a hand.

You took it without hesitation, allowing yourself to be pulled to your feet curious what he was up to. Maybe the impassive face wasn’t such a good thing. At least to you.

Rex inhaled sharply, this was the closest you’d been to him besides the wedding ceremony. He smelled like the military issue soap you’d come to associate with the troopers and you could catch a whiff of the whiskey he’d been drinking, a wedding gift from Anakin. Or a condolence gift, who knew with him.

“I’d like to kiss you if you’re not opposed,” Rex spoke formally, previous relaxed chatter seemed to be forgotten.

You paused for a moment, surprised at the sudden forward approach. Never once before did you think he would ever be genuinely interested in you. Especially after his teams’ comments about him being standoffish whenever you were around.

Rex’s blank face faltered, it was only a second but you saw the momentary collapse in confidence.

Fuck it.

You reached up, grabbing his shoulders before pushing your lips against his. He didn’t move for a second, seemly surprised by your actions. After a moment you felt arms circle your waist and pull you closer against his chest. You melted into the embrace, feeling the sinewy muscle through his blacks.

He reluctantly pulled away, eyes soft as he stared into yours.

“Why’d you stop?” You asked quietly, eyes flicking between his searching for an answer.

His lips crashed back into yours making your heart leap in your chest. A hand went to the back of your head, fingers knotting in your hair as his lips moved against yours. You looped your arms around his neck both of you pulling each other into yourselves.

Rex’s hands went to your thighs, lifting them so you could circle your legs around his waist. You paid no mind as he moved, just focused on his mouth as his tongue danced with yours.

Suddenly he broke away and dropped you onto the bed in the middle of the room. You gazed up at the captain to see him staring back with an adoring gaze that you had never seen before, not that you were complaining.

“I don’t know where you got the idea that I don’t like you.” Rex spoke in a husky tone. “But hopefully this clears that up.”

He leaned down and caged you down to the bed with his body, lips back on yours. You could feel your lips becoming raw from the attention but you didn’t want it to stop. It wasn’t long though before he moved to kiss down your jaw then neck to your shoulder where he bit down gently, sucking at your soft flesh.

You could feel the heat pool between your legs, your hands moving to his back as you moan. He bit down a little harder and you dug your nails into his back. The rumble of his groan could be felt against your skin before he moved to continue trailing kisses down between your breasts to your navel. You mentally cursed the dress that you were wearing, it was going to take way too long to get it off and you did not want to wait that long.

Rex on the other hand didn’t seem to mind as he reached for your calf, hand moving up your leg and under the dress skirts before stopping right above your knee. His eyes met yours again, unspoken question hanging in the air.

And then his comm rung.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you blurted out, sexual frustration clouding your mind.

Rex chuckled before reluctantly getting up and retrieving the device from where his armor was. He walked back over to where you were, now sitting up.

“General Anakin?” Rex answered.

“Hey Rex - sorry for ditching you two, we needed a convincing cover for being planet-side. Are you two both still alive?”

You could hear hushed laughter in the background, gazing up at Rex you could see his face starting to flush again. He was so lucky color didn’t show well over holo or else he’d never hear the end of it.

“Yes sir.” He answered curtly, eyes darting down to look at you with a hint of a smile on his face.

“Good, we’ll be back in about a half-hour to get you guys. Hang in there.” Anakin said before signing off.

Both of you stood in silence for a moment before you smirked and stood up next to him.

“I don’t know about you but I think that means we still have some time to kill.”

Rex reached around your back to unlace the back when you pushed him down onto the bed. He looked up at you with an arched brow.

“Still not enough to get this thing off,” your smirk remaining on your face as you move to straddle his waist.

His eyes widened momentarily before returning your smirk and pulling you into another bruising kiss. You moved your hips just enough for him to be able to push the waistband of his blacks down before you felt his hard cock press against your damp panties. His fingers pushed the fabric aside as you reached down to guide his cock.

You could feel your own blush crawling along your cheeks as you watched Rex’s face. His eyes were hungry as they locked between your legs as you sat on his cock, he moaned and dropped his head back onto the bed as you bottomed out. Moving your hips slightly earned another loud groan from him emboldening you to set a slow teasing pace.

Suddenly he gripped your hips before sitting up so your bodies were flush against each other again.

“We don’t have time for that mesh’la and I’m not leaving here until I feel you cum on my cock.” His hips gyrating into yours, making sure to hit every sensitive spot inside you.

His hand went to your clit as you rode him, the heat coiling quickly in your belly. You could hear him murmuring in Mando’a as your pussy clenched around him, the tension threatening to snap.

Rex’s comm rang again.

You paused, beyond frustrated.

“I didn’t say stop mesh’la,” Rex growled, hips snapping up into you again encouraging you to keep going.

“But Skyw-” You started before Rex grabbed the back of your head, pulling your face to his in a searing kiss.

The tension building snapped and you felt your orgasm wash over you like a wave, your legs shaking from the force. Rex pushed his hips up into you twice more before pulling you off him, ropes of cum spilling down his cock as you two panted.

Rex moved you to his side as he got up and grabbed the comm, yet again, slipping his cock into his pants before answering.

You didn’t bother to eavesdrop this time, laying back on the bed letting the blissed-out feeling numb your senses. Soon Rex was standing over you, a genuine smile on his face.

“It’s time to go mesh’la.” His voice was soft, as he stroked your still exposed thigh.

You smiled back, sighing deeply. “One more kiss?”

Rex chuckled, grabbing your hand to help you stand. He pressed his forehead against yours before placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“There will be plenty more later mesh’la."

[oftenderweapons]

The Early Bird – Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)

Wordcount: 2.3k 

Genre: smut, pretty much pwp, drabble, established relationship

Rating: 18+

Hello hummingbirds! I just came in quickly to type in this very very brief Jungkook smutty drabble because after today’s pics well... Me and my mates (shoutout to @nervous-moon) were a bit all over the place. Not much plot. Just filth. 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: very smutty Jk. Filthy as hell. Lots of swearing. Dirty talking. Slight corruption kink. Post-workout testosterone galore. Degradation kink; dommy JK, very patronising. Lots of switching positions. Multiple orgasms. Unprotected sex (get tested before going bare with your partner. Pretty please). Very lowkey spanking. Lots of tattoo kinks. He touches between her legs without her consent (Candy is sleeping), but she *does* give him consent as soon as she wakes up. I understand some people could be triggered by this and I am sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. 

In case you need it, here is my masterlist. 

Enjoy💜✨

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

Jeongguk exited his home gym and headed for the kitchen to grab a fresh bottle of water. Uncapping it quickly, he took a large mouthful, draining the bottle with a series of loud gulps. 

His early morning work out routine had several perks: the great peace of mind which helped him start a new day, the sense of focus that made his nerve endings jolt to life before he started his daily routine, and the pleasing idea of hitting the shower detoxifyed, after sweating sleep and the remnants of the previous day off himself.

It felt right to start the day with exercise. 

It felt a bit less right to wake up an hour earlier and abandon you in his bed, warm and cosy and so soft, smelling of his fabric softener and that sweet lotion that he liked so much. 

He took off his shirt on the way to the bedroom, dropping it off in the basket in the laundry room. Shirtless and sweaty, he reached the bedroom door, his mind already going places as his hand rubbed at his abs, climbing up to his chest. 

There you were, innocent in your sleeping form, curled up in a ball in the middle of the bed, the white sheets exposing your legs and your chest. 

You looked so pretty. So small. So pure and unprotected. You looked like a delicate lamb, napping in a soft cloud of perfect peacefulness. It looked like even in your sleep you were offering yourself to him. 

He felt ravenous. Predatorial.

He undressed quickly, feeling only slightly guilty as he stroked himself a couple times, his hand meeting his shaft already half hard, blood pressure spiking as he felt his own hand on his flesh. 

But it wouldn’t do. Because nothing could compare to the velvet of your cunt, the sweet, sticky wetness of your arousal coating your folds, like honey waiting to be tasted, licked, violated. You were there, laying gently, and he was at the feet of the bed, ready to pounce on you, already imagining the sweet little coos you would emit while waking up, his cock spearing you, your mouth parting in an ‘o’ as realisation hit you. 

Slowly and clumsily he climbed on the bed, crawling towards you on three limbs as one hand was still busy on his length. 

He hovered above you, bending at his elbow to lean his head against your breast, kissing any part of your chest that was uncovered by your arm, curled up against your front. 

Looking at your face, he gently moved his hand away from his sex, sliding it under the covers and brushing it against the curve of your bottom, sliding his middle finger between your folds, moaning at the wetness. 

“Sweetie.” He whispered against your ear. “Wake up, Candy.” He murmured with a soft voice. “I need my sweet girl.” He teased, his finger searching for your clit. 

Your body finally reacted, your eyelids fluttering open. “Gguk.” You whined, still sleepy. 

“Hello, sweet thing.” He said, smiling happily. 

You took in his damp hair, his lack of a shirt. “You back from the gym?” You asked, frowning as you yawned. 

“Yes, Candy.” He cooed, nuzzling his hair against your bosom as soon as you offered your chest to him.

“And why is your hand between my legs?” 

“Because I need my sweet girlfriend’s sweet pussy.” He growled, his mouth outright filthy in a way that normally wasn’t unless he felt like totally wrecking you.  

Grabbing his wrist, you removed his hand, turning on your back and trying to wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck. “Just use me.” You murmured, closing your eyes and kissing his bicep flexed beside our head, your mouth landing distractedly on one of his tattoos. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll think about it for you, baby.” With one arm he held his weight off you, while with the other, he untangled the bedsheets from your form, tugging them off and exposing your body in all of its perfect nakedness. Next his arm slithered under your back, lifting you off the mattress and helping you up as he rose on his knees, kneeling on the bed. 

Slowly, he made his way to the edge of the mattress, placing his ass down and unfolding his legs, letting his feet rest against the floor. He had seen this position on a video while he was away on tour but somehow it had slipped away, coming back to him earlier as he lifted some weights in the gym. 

You simpy laid your head on the crook of his neck, kissing his skin and enjoying the salty feel of his sweat on your lips. Your legs loosened around his waist as he settled in this new position. 

“I need you to listen carefully, Candy.” He growled at your ear. “I’m gonna do you rough, baby, but I know you’ve just woken up.”

You nodded distractedly beneath his ear, snuggling him. 

“I’ll be careful first, but next I need you to hold tight.” He kissed your temple and caressed your spine. “I’ll take care of you.” He promised. “I’ll take care of everything.” He murmured against your ear. “I need to slide in, ____.” He explained, gripping his shaft and rubbing it against your folds. 

“Do it.” You said sleepily, whimpering as he pushed the tip in, groaning.

“Feels good?” He asked, giving a delicate thrust in, his other hand against the small of your back, pushing you towards him as he slid in. 

“Very.” You murmured, letting your open mouth rest against his neck, your tongue slipping out and curling against his skin, tasting his sweat, searching for the little mole that always drove him crazy under the tip of your tongue. He was addictive.

“It was made for you, Candy.” He groaned with a chuckle. “It was made to make you whimper and moan like a little slut.” He sank deep into you, bottoming out. 

You simply exhaled at his neck. If he was already degrading you in that cocky, teasing way of his, then he was really needy. Good thing you were craving him too. 

His arms snaked under your legs, the crook of his elbows slotting against the bend of your knees while his hands settled on the small of your back, holding you as his biceps flexed and lifted you, making you slide off his cock. 

“Oh god.” You murmured at his neck, biting his skin to keep yourself from being too loud. 

“That good?” He asked. “Wait till I slam you down again.” He said, growling, his voice strained as he slowly, made you twirl on him, only the tip inside, rubbing against the tight rim of muscles at your entrance before he let you slide on him again, your hands finding the long locks of his hair at his nape and tugging them desperately as he reached the bottom of your cunt, flexing his strong thighs and glutes to give a few small thrusts before lifting you up again, this time keeping you midair as he bent his head, licking the shell of your ear. 

“You’re being too quiet. Need it faster? Harder?” He slid you down gently, using his hands to press your hips forward, against his, until he could feel every square inch of your inner muscles fighting between swallowing him in and pushing him out. “Did you get used to hard and fast?” He asked, sliding you up slowly again and grunting in effort as he bit your earlobe. “Or maybe you need me to fuck you like my bitch.” He slammed you down. Hard. 

You let your mouth hang open in a loud cry, your lungs empty. 

“That way, uh? Dirty pretty whore you are. Just for me.” He cried out, angling your body away from his, your head lifting from his shoulder and trying to stay upright as you looked into his dark pupils, your stare a bit lost and vacant as he started lifting you up and down like you weighted nothing, looking at you as your eyes crossed, mouth open, a series of short gasps making your lips part in smaller or larger ‘o’s. 

He was beautiful, almost painfully so. His brow was furrowed, his lower lip tucked between his teeth before it slid out, his jaw dropping as you squeezed his with your kegels and started helping him, riding his cock with small thrusts of your pelvis, as far as his arms allowed you in that caged position. “Need to ride my cock?” He asked with an arrogant smirk, his eyes rolling closed as you squeezed him particularly tight. 

“Yes.” You replied simply. 

“But I need to see your silly face as I fuck you stupid, just like this.” He objected, slowing down for a few thrusts, focusing on hitting your sweet spot. The spongy head of his cock rubbed against your G-spot repeatedly, making you call his name, stuttering it a couple times as your breath caught in your throat. “Like that.” You called, unwrapping an arm from his neck and bringing it between your legs, trying desperately to conjure your first high. 

“Come on. Give me that cockhungry little pout. Let me see your filthy mouth open wide for me.” He said, leaning down to suck your nipple into his mouth, pumping it a couple times with the tight sucking of his cheeks before releasing it. “I want your gorgeous tits blushing while you cum on my cock.” He growled against your other breast, taking the other nipple in his mouth before he started sliding you up and down his length like you were nothing but a fleshlight, using you for his pleasure. 

“Gguk. I—” Next, an inarticulate ramble left your lips, your body arching away from him with the perfect angle that trapped your clit between your expert fingers and the divine fullness of Jeongguk’s cock rubbing the inner nerve endings from inside. 

Your body didn’t stop shaking even as he started leaning down, his arms unhooking from below your legs and simply coming up to place his hands on your waist. 

“I’m not done with you, my sweet fuckdoll.” He looked you in the eye as his tattoed hand slapped your ass with a dry cracking sound. “Your velvet cunt hasn’t taken my cum yet.” And just like that, he started helping you ride him, the only thing saving you from overstimulation the lack of attention on your clit. 

“Gguk. Please.” You begged, not even sure for what. 

“What is it,” he grunted, both his hands grabbing your ass and helping it up before his palms slid up to your sides, grabbing you and slamming you down. 

“Need you on top.” You whined, trying to sweeten him. 

He smirked. “Lazy pillow princess, ain’t you?” He slapped your ass again, the stinging feeling making your lips part and your eyes water slightly. 

It felt all too good. “You do it better than me.” You praised him, definitely knowing how to get what you want. 

He nodded, eyebrows lifting. “I do.” He said, holding your front close to his chest and making you roll on your back, his body inviting you to slide forward, toward the middle of the bed, so that his legs could find purchase on the mattress and he could hammer into you just the way you like it. 

Once his body was perched on top of you, he helped one of your legs over his shoulder. “Hold on tight, love.” He teased before he slammed into you in one violent stroke. 

Your eyes shot open, a helpless cry tearing your lips open as you looked at him, tears rimming your eyelids. 

“Oh, what’s that?” He asked with a bastard’s grin on his face. “Is it so good that I’m gonna make you cry?” He slid out slowly, all the way to the tip, before his cock split you open again. “Go on and cry for it.” He sneered, his whole body getting lost into a hard and fast hammering inside you. 

“Gguk, dammit, please. I wanna cum.” You cried out, your hand sliding between your legs. 

He slowed down only to slap away your filthy fingers. “Gonna cum for this cock alone.” He said, angling his hips perfectly in that way that always drove you crazy. “Like the good slut you are for me.” He bent forward to your chest, biting the upper curve of your breast. “Make me feel your velvet cunt milk me dry.” He groaned, desperate. “I know you can do it, ____. You’re my little cockfairy.” He teased, so lost in the tightness and warmth of you that his tongue got that loose and reckless. 

You simply started meeting his thrusts, your brow furrowing, while you looked at the muscles of his shoulders flex, his biceps tightening and relaxing with the effort, and the beatiful ink covering his upper arm, so alive with the movements. 

He moved your other leg over his shoulder, sinking so deep inside you that your body snapped before you could even understand the fullness you were experimenting. 

Your ears filled with a shrill screech, his face going from a series of tight lines — creased forehead, scrunched nose and wrinkled eyes — to relaxed planes, with his mouth opened wide, his lips so soft and temptingly red, his eyelids slowly fluttering close. 

“Your pussy is a whole damn miracle.” He muttered against your soft breasts pillowing his head. “I wanna die inside it and go to pussy heaven.”

You tried to laugh as gently as possible while he rested on top of you, his cock still burrowed deep inside you. “I love you, silly bun.” You said, still a bit breathless.

“I’m sorry for the nasty words. You know I love you too.” He said, mouthing at your soft curves and sucking a bruise there. 

“Cockfairy, uh?” You said, teasingly. 

He giggled. “Shut up.” 

“Never.” You replied. combing his hair out of his face. 

He lifted his head with a raised eyebrow. “Then maybe I should feed you my cock and shut you up.”

Round two? Already? You were feeling spoiled. “Maybe you should.”

He grinned and slid out of you, slowly climbing up your body. “Open up, pretty doll.”    

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Prey for You | Part 5

Genre: Smut, angst.

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: After finding out what Chan really thinks of you, you’re determined to never let him in again. But he finds a way to sneak back into your bed. 

Warnings: super unhealthy relationship, dom!reader, sub!chan, milking but not the prostate way, use of a fleshlight, cumplay?, degradation, enemies to lovers,  wolf!hybrid chan, fox!hybrid reader

A/N: this is a major risk cuz i don’t even know if I’m done editing this lol so if its a mess let me know and I might fix it lmao. the gif is for the bath scene btw uwu

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 Part 5, Part 6

You wish you could immediately move out and go someplace else, away from Chan and the constant reminder that you’re not good enough for him. But if it was that easy, you wouldn’t have had to move in with him in the first place. Now you were forced to live with the man who everyday reminded you of what you could’ve had if only you weren’t what you were.

For his part, Chan tries to apologize to you, but what use is his apology now that you have confirmation of what he really thinks of you? That doesn’t mean he has let up, though.

“Hey, baby.” The man in question greets you as soon as you come back from a lecture. “I wanna talk to you.”

You can’t keep going through this. Every time he tries to justify himself--to explain why it’s a good idea that people don’t know about you-- it just cements in your mind that he’ll never see you as someone worthy of him, of anyone. So you silently move past him, walking towards your room and hoping that the severe look you have on your face will discourage him this time. But it doesn’t, and he follows you into your room.

“I have something to tell you.” He announces and you turn to face him with an agitated sigh. “Then say it and go.”

You hope this will be quick, at least, but your hope is dashed when he crosses the distance between you and wraps his arms around you, pulling you towards his body. You open your mouth to curse him out, but the smell of him floods your nose with a spicier tinge to it than usual.  

“Oh.” Your mouth gapes in realization. “You’re going into heat.”

He nods, leaning down to nuzzle your nose with his before going further, trying to catch your lips in a kiss, but his lips barely brush yours before you lean back, your hands pushing your body as far away from his as the embrace can allow. “So? That doesn’t change anything.”

“The hell it does.” He grimaces, not pleased with your reaction. “I need you.” 

“No, you need to get laid. You could get that from any of your groupies.” 

He scoffs in disbelief, “So you want me to go fuck other women?” 

You realize how far you’ve let things go when just hearing him say it out loud makes you want to fold in on yourself to protect your heart from getting torn to pieces. You shouldn’t have let things get this far. There is a reason you were so cautious before and you’ve gone and fucked yourself over at the first sign of someone being nice to you, of someone showing you the slightest hint of trust and affection. And you thought you were strong.

“I don’t care what you do.” You lie through your teeth, wishing to at least keep the knowledge of your shameful demise from him. “We’re not together.”

That angers him the most. “Yes, we are!” 

“Really? Because no one else seems to know.” You seethe, and he finally pulls away from you, infuriated at you as if you’re the one being ridiculous. “You’ve seen how my friends reacted. How do you think everyone else is gonna react?”

“That shouldn’t matter!”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have anything to lose.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe how full of yourself you are! You think I would be so damn honored if people knew I am with the pride of predators that you are?”

“Stop fucking saying that! Do I need to be a mindless brute to earn your respect as a predator?”

“No, but this--” You gesture vaguely towards him with distaste, “certainly isn’t earning my respect.” 

He takes a deep breath, face red and aggression rolling off of him in waves. You wonder if he’ll attack you like last time. But he just grits through his teeth, looking away, “What am supposed to do with my heat?”

“I don’t care.” You mutter, and his eyes snap to you, a little wild with fury. 

You hold your breath as he starts walking towards you, a muscle ticking in his jaw, and you imagine what it would be like if he were to snap it around your neck. Would it hurt more or less than you’re hurting right now? But instead of tearing your throat out, he walks past you and out of the room.

_____________________________

Chan has been gone for an hour now. And your mind was running wild with images of him fucking someone else. You feel stupid. You’re the one who sent him away, but what were you supposed to do? Give yourself completely to him until he has exhausted his need of you and throws you away? He’s made his stance pretty clear, and you’d be pathetic to let him use you like that. 

You're busy beating yourself when you hear the front door open, and you almost jump out of your skin. You whip around towards it, your treacherous affection hoping to see that Chan has changed his mind and came back to you, but instead your all too familiar bitterness takes hold of you as you see him stumbling into the apartment with a girl, their lips locked and their hands all over each other. 

You suppose there must be some truth to the phrase “if looks could kill” because the girl--a bunny hybrid--pulls away from Chan and her big eyes flit around the living room anxiously until they land on you. She squeaks when your eyes meek and she fearfully latches onto Chan’s arm. “You d-didn’t tell me you had a-a roommate.” 

Chan on the other hand is straight up grinning as he sees the murderous look on your face. He bends down to whisper something in the girl's ear that you can’t hear, but judging by the motion of his head and the direction she looks, you know he’s telling her where his bedroom is and to go wait for him there. She gives you one last nervous look before she scurries down the hall and disappears. When she’s gone, he struts over to you like a peacock showing off his feathers. 

“You look upset, baby girl.” 

“You’re a fucking bastard.” You spit out. He smiles wider and leans over you, pushing his hands against the back of the couch and caging you between them. "Last chance, fox. You gonna be a good girl for me or would you rather I go in there and fuck that pretty thing? I know she’ll be more than happy to do anything to please me."

You push him away roughly. He staggers for a second but quickly holds himself upright, grabbing your hands in a painful grip. “That wasn’t so nice, fox.” He grunts, pulling one of your hands towards his crotch and making you feel how hard he is. “But I’ll give you one more chance.” 

“You’re such a fucking slut.” You scowl, roughly palming his dick through his pants. He seems to love it though, biting his lip as a groan slips out of him. Vexed, you pull your hand back and get up, leaning up to hiss at him, "Get her the fuck out and come to my room."

His triumphant smile is met with a disgusted sneer from you. "You think you've won?"

“Kinda, yeah.” He laughs cockily. 

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” 

_______________________

He quickly loses his smile when he steps into your room and sees the items you have on the bed--a fleshlight and a bottle of lube. He gives you a disheartened look. “No, no, this isn’t what we agreed on.”

“We didn’t agree on anything.” 

"I'm going into heat. I need to fuck you not some toy!"

“You can leave if you want. See if the little bunny isn’t too hurt to let you fuck her.” You challenge, confident that he will take anything you give him at this point.  

Groaning in defeat, he slumps down on the bed, and you smile knowingly, ordering him to undress for you. He obliges, although not without a sour pout. When he's naked, you gesture for him to come sit with you on the bed, back pressed against your chest as he settles between your legs. 

He is hard despite his protests, and you open the bottle of lube and squirt some of it on his cock, putting it down then wrapping your hand around him and pumping his cock slowly, just spreading the lube all over it. 

Grabbing the fleshlight with your other hand, you bring it to his lips. "Use your mouth, puppy." 

He groans, reluctantly peeking his tongue out to lap at the toy. You tsk in disapproval. “You’ll never get it wet this way. You’re really big, puppy.” You drawl, dragging your fist tightly up his long member and extracting a deep groan out of him. “Wouldn’t want your cock to get hurt when I fuck you with it dry now, would you?” 

He gives you a dissatisfied grunt but he pushes his tongue out more, starting to lick the opening of the fleshlight more deliberately now. “Good boy. Get it all wet so I can use it to milk every last drop of cum from your balls. Maybe then you’ll behave.” 

His hips buck up into your hands and he starts pushing his tongue in and out of the toy, the wet sounds of his tongue working the fleshlight filling up the room. 

"You're so pathetic. Eating out this silicone pussy so I can fuck you with it instead of sticking your dick in some bitch's warm pussy. All because I want you to, right?" You whisper in his ear before pressing soft kisses down his neck. His breath hitches and he pushes his hips up into your hands again, needing more than the gentle touches you were giving him. 

"You'll do anything if I ask you to." You state, pulling the toy away from his mouth, breaking off the tiny translucent strings of saliva that connect them. Letting go of his dick, you grab the lube again and order him to put two fingers out for you. You squeeze some of the lube onto them then bring the fleshlight to his hand. “Finger your pussy open, baby.” 

“You’re driving me crazy.” He groans as pushes his fingers into the toy, and you laugh. “Aw, is this frustrating for you, puppy?” 

“Yes.” He hisses, his fingers fucking in and out of the toy aggressively. 

“Good.” 

When you’re satisfied with how slick the toy has gotten, and how needy he’s become, you order him to stop and line it over his cock. “Ready, puppy?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be for a fucking toy.” He swears and you smile, plunging the fleshlight over his cock. You don’t need his enthusiasm to do what you want as with a few jerks of the toy, he’s already melting back onto you and moaning out his pleasure, his impending heat already working him to the edge of insanity. 

“See? You’re nothing but a horny dog trying to get off.” You use your free hand to massage his lower belly just above the base of his member, stoking the fire building there. “I should lock your dirty cock in a cage during this heat so you won’t go around humping and fucking whoever you can get your hands on. Only let you out when I want to use you.”

“Then use me, please. Take what you need from me.” He moans even louder, his back arching and his hips fucking up into the toy. “Sit on my face and make me eat you out until I can't breathe or sit on my cock and ride me until you've had your fill.” "And give you the satisfaction of giving me pleasure? No, you don't even deserve that. You'll just sit here and take everything like the selfish dog you are." You slide your hand up his body, brushing your fingers over his nipple. He instantly jerks and tries to close his legs but a harsh growl in his ear is all that's needed for him to swing his legs back open. 

“See? You’re already gonna cum, aren’t you?” You mock, reaching your hand out to grab the small glass cup you left at the bedside table and placing it under his cock.

“What are you doing?” Chan sputters, confused and embarrassed. 

“Wanna see how much cum you have for me, puppy. Show me how bad you need me.” You coax, taking the fleshlight off and using your hand instead, stroking his cock from bottom to top and pointing the leaking tip of it inside the cup. 

“Ahh---that’s filthy.” Chan protests but his eyes are glued to the scene and his moans get higher in pitch as you both prepare for him to orgasm. Your hands continue their rhythmic pumping as spurts of white cum start shooting into the glass, almost as if you’re manually squeezing them out of his dick. 

“That’s a lot of cum. Such a horny dog.” You murmur, taking in the amount of cum collecting in the glass, and he shudders, transfixed by the way your hand is milking every last drop from him. “And you’re wasting all of it. What a useless pup. Should’ve never been a wolf.” 

He growls and lays his head back on your shoulder to look up at you.You think he’s going to argue with you about what you just said but instead he stares at you with his puppy eyes and breathlessly asks for a kiss. 

You could refuse him, of course. He doesn’t deserve it. But you want it too, his plump, red lips too enticing to pass up, and so you close the distance between you and capture them in a lazy kiss. But you barely start before he’s squirming and whining against you. 

“I suppose you still have more to give me.” You murmur against his lips and start moving your hand over his dick again--the wet sounds from your lips against his and your hands over his dick soon filling up the room.

“Such a big boy.” You marvel as you pull away from his slick lips to gaze at his dick, his breath stuttering when you swipe your palm over the leaking head. “But you won’t even get to use it because you’re a dumb, selfish pup.” 

He blinks tiredly at you, apologetically, but you’ll have none of it. 

“Ready to fuck your toy again?” You ask haughtily, and he sighs, nodding defeatedly. 

“There you go.” You put the toy back on him. 

You’re surprised by how vocal he’s being. He’s the loudest you’ve ever heard him. You guess the heat was getting to him as he doesn’t even try to hold back, his moans lusty and shameless. He’s so consumed by the pleasure taking over his body like he’d die without it, and honestly it’s affecting you more than you’d like to admit, your panties sticking to your heat uncomfortably.

"You sound like a whore getting fucked.” You scoff, pumping his dick faster with the fleshlight. "Are you that desperate?" 

“Hmm--yes! Please...fuck me--” He cries, easily giving in as his hips jolt up. “Need your hot---ahh--wet pussy around my cock. You can milk me all you want then. I’ll be all yours. My cum is all yours.” 

“But I don't need to do that when you’re already being such an easy slut for me.” You move your hand up to his chest again, rubbing and teasing his nipples.

"But you want me--" He gasps as you pinch his nipple in retaliation. "Fuck me, please. Need your pussy--oh god.”

“You don’t need it, dumb puppy. You’re cumming fine enough in this toy.” You put your lips to his neck, sucking on the sensitive spot under his ear then laving over it with your tongue. 

“But I want more.. And I know you want---ahhh, fuck--fuck!" He cries out, looking down in time to watch himself empty into the cup again. And like last time, you make sure to catch every last drop. 

“Hah--please.” He pants, leaning back to look up at you, his eyes focusing on your lips. “Kiss...” 

You sigh, kissing him. He doesn’t have to be instructed in this, his lips opening automatically and his tongue pushing needily into your mouth. As his panting moans pick up again, you pull away. 

“Please fuck me.” He draws the request out, pleading. 

“No.”

He whimpers at your definite tone and huffs. “Then let me see you at least.”

“See me?” You quirk an eyebrow at him and he nods earnestly. "Wanna see you."

You move out from behind him and settle between his open legs. “Here I am.” 

But his gaze isn’t on your face, it’s glued to your hard nipples poking through your tank top in arousal. 

“Ah, you wanna see my tits, puppy? Will that help you cum more for me?” You pull your tank top over your breasts, exposing them. He whines at once, struggling to stay in his spot, his tongue swiping over his lips hungrily. 

"What is it? Wanna put suck on them, puppy?" You tease, sitting up and leaning your chest over his face, your breasts just out of reach of his mouth. 

“Yes! Please, can I?” He begs, and just his breath brushing against your nipples is enough to have you rubbing your legs together. You don’t even want to imagine how fast you’d cum if he put his hands on you.

Tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, you push his face into your chest. “Go ahead. You better make it worth my while.”

His mouth immediately latches onto one of your nipples, lathering it with saliva and sucking on it eagerly.

"Fuck, that's a good boy." You hiss, grabbing the fleshlight and pulling it over his cock, not wanting to get distracted. But the faster you work him, the more eagerly he kisses and sucks at your tits, his tongue hungrily licking all over your chest and his teeth insistently nibbling at the skin. 

It's so good the friction you’re getting from rubbing your legs together is enough to make your orgasm build up. You're both impressed and mortified that you can feel yourself getting close just from jerking him off and having him suck on your tits. But you can't dwell on it too much, too busy trying to get him and yourself off. 

You get what you want when he flicks your nipple with his tongue then wraps his lips around your entire areola and sucks harshly, ripping the orgasm from your body. Gasping loudly, your movement over his cock stops and your head drops down. But Chan quickly reaches out and grabs your jaw, pulling your head against his so he can see your face as you cum, the both of you wide-eyed and breathing heavily as the orgasm shakes your body. 

"Fuck." Chan grunt, his hips bucking up into the stationary fleshlight as moans flow through his spit-slick lips. You can tell he’s almost there and you pull the fleshlight away and reach for the cup but it's too late, his seed shooting out and landing on your belly, marking you with it and trailing down slowly towards your pussy.

"Shit, sorry." He groans apologetically but he’s too weak to do anything about it. Exhausted from the three back to back orgasms, he falls back to the bed, boneless. 

You sigh, setting the cup down and getting up to grab some tissues to clean yourself up. When you walk back to the bed, you find Chan struggling to keep his eyes open. 

“No, no, get up. Come on, you need to wash off.” You tug on his arm, but his body is too heavy to budge. 

“I’m too tired.” He whines like a puppy trying to get out of a bath.

“You won't have to do anything. You just sit in the tub and I’ll clean you up.” You try to pull at his arm again but he just buries his face in the pillows and ignores you. You sigh, running your hand over his skin patiently. “Come one, don’t you want a nice, warm bath? Wouldn’t it feel good after all this effort? It’ll loosen your muscles right up.”

He lifts his head up, regarding you, and you brush the hair out of his face softly. “Come on, puppy. I’m tired too.” 

He finally complies, getting up and letting you tug him towards the bathroom. You don’t give him a real bath, you just make him sit in the tub while you scrub and clean his body, letting the warm water stream over him and wash the soap and tension away. 

By the time you’re done, he was starting to doze off again. He looked really cute like that, his eyes almost all the way closed and his lips in a slight pout as he tries to keep his head up. 

You pat his cheek gently, drawing his attention towards you. “Get up, pup. We’re done.” 

He nods groggily and slowly stands up. You dry him off with a towel then lead him to your bed, telling him to wait a minute while you go grab something for him to wear. You know he likes sleeping in only his boxers so you just grab that and come back, handing it to him to put on while you go grab a towel for yourself. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower. I want you back in your room when I’m back.” 

Your words jolt him awake, his eyes wide and alert suddenly. “What? But I thought...” He trails off, looking at you as if asking for you to help finish his sentence. Which is just ridiculous, you don’t, of course. You stare at him with a blank face until he continues in a small voice, "I was hoping I could stay."

“What gave you that impression? You thought you could manipulate me into fucking you and then everything will be fine and dandy?”

“No. I just really miss you.” He states helplessly, and tears spring up into your eyes at that. 

I miss you. You’re special. These are all meaningless words that just serve to put another stab in your heart and remind you of what you’ll never actually have from him. 

“I don’t have the energy for this right now.” You say weakly, turning your back around and heading for the door quickly. “Just leave.”

As soon as you get into the shower, you start to sob. You feel like shit. You've gone through so much abuse and ridicule before but this has to be the worst you’ve ever felt about yourself, for yourself. You have so easily given into him. He’s got you where he wants you again, and he didn't even have to compromise anything to get it. You just walked right into it like an idiot, and now you fear that you feel too much for him to get out of this intact. 

You stay a long time in the shower, waiting for your tears to dry up, but they never do. All you can manage is to get them to stop streaming down your face like the water does, holding them in your eyes and hoping the long shower allowed enough time for Chan’s scent to disperse from your room. 

But when you walk back into your room, towel wrapped snugly around your body, you find Chan himself still in there, sitting on top of your newly made bed. And just like that, the tears fight to be shed again.  

“I changed the sheets.” He pipes up, looking at you for approval. 

“Oh, you changed the sheets? I guess I have to let you stay now.” Your retort is weak and hoarse.  “Baby…” He stands up and walks over to you, reaching a hand out to tug at your own gently, but you quickly snatch it back and take a step away from him, 

”Don’t.”  Your voice cracks and you turn away in a panic, not wanting him to see you shed any tears for him. But it's useless as he easily turns you back towards him and wraps you in his strong arms. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks like he genuinely cares.

"You're what's wrong!" You sob, trying and failing to to get out of his embrace.

“Don’t say that.” He pleads, wiping your tears and kissing each of your cheeks despite your struggles. “Please, don’t cry.” 

“How can I not when I’ve fallen in love with you.” You scream the words at him, hoping that the sheer heartache your voice contains will cast him away from you. And for a moment it seems to work as he staggers at your confession, his face a look of pure shock. This is it. He'll finally take pity on you and stop messing with you. Or at the very least he'll realize that this game isn't fun anymore and he'll back off.

“Just leave me be, please.” You plead, trying once again to pull away from his now loose embrace, but as soon as you move, he snaps out of it, his grip tightening around you even more. Pushing his forehead against yours, he breathes out, “I love you too.” 

Before you can think about it, you raise your hands to scratch at him, anything to defend yourself from the continuous torment he’s subjecting you to. You only manage a weak swipe at his cheek before he has both your wrists in his grip and pinned to your back. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” He curses, the tiniest bit of blood seeping out of the fresh wound in the middle of his cheek.

“Stop playing with me!”

"I'm not playing! I love you." He shouts back at you, and his words hurt like a dozen pellets piercing your skin. Because either he’s sick enough to lie about this, to continue playing with you despite how precarious your position has become, or he really does love you but his disgust at you is so great that it doesn’t matter.

"How can you say that when you’re ashamed of being with me? How can that be love?" 

"You're one to talk! I'm always the one trying not to lose you and you're always the one pushing me away. What does it matter whether people know about us or not when you’re fucking crying at the mere fact that you fell in love with me?"

“I'm crying because the man I fell in love with is so ashamed of loving me that he won't even defend me in front of his friends!"

"And if I do? If I tell everyone that I love you and take all the damage and then you inevitably leave me?" He accuses, so sure of his words like he knows it will happen. All the fight leaves your body at that. He’ll never trust you, will he? 

"Why are you assuming the worst of me?" You snivel weakly.

"No, you can’t pull that shit!” He rages, “You don’t have the right to treat me like shit and then cry about the fact that I don’t trust you! I have every right to be scared that in a couple of months you'll look at me and remember how much of an impotent predator you think I am and drop me."

“Then why do you keep me around?” You ask in a small voice, scared of the answer. 

“I… I don’t know.” 

You laugh bitterly, but Chan stays silent, rooted to his spot and waiting for you to do or say something. You can’t handle this anymore, not now at least. Every time the two of you talk, you hate yourself more. You need to get away from him or you’re afraid you’ll collapse into a void of self-loathing you’ll never be able to pull yourself out from. 

Sighing wearily, you slowly shuffle to your closet. You drop your towel and put on some underwear before you start pulling on a pair of pants and a shirt. 

“What are you doing?” Chan fumes as he realises what you’re doing. “Are you going out?!”  

You stay silent as you pick out some shoes and put them on.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You can’t go out right now. We’re talking!” 

You ignore him once again, walking towards the door. He tries to intercept you, face red, “You’re not leaving!”

“Watch me.” You say coldly, going around him and walking out the door. 

___________

You didn’t have a place in mind when you went out. You just needed to breathe, to get some fresh air. But you soon find that too sobering, the fresh wounds hurting too much for you to feel them right now. So you decided you’ll do the opposite, stop feeling. And how do you do that? Everyone’s favorite poison. And so you head to the nearest bar you can find.

You’re barely finished with your first glass when you hear a deep voice digging its way through your fuzzy hearing. “Hey! You’re that fox from Chan’s place, right?” 

Your heart stops at the sound of his name, and you stare at the empty glass in your hand, determined to ignore the intruder until he goes away. But he just plops down into the seat across from you, exclaiming ever louder. “It is you!”

You stay silent, and he carries on, thinking you don’t recognize him. “I’m Felix by the way if you don’t remember.”

You still don’t give him any response, but he doesn’t give up. "I'm sorry, I didn't really get your name last time..." He trails off, looking at you expectantly. Your gaze shifts to him and he falters when he sees the dead look in your eyes.

After some pause, he drops the cheery look from his face, and says somberly, "Look, I know you probably hate us all because of what happened, and you have every right to, but I just want to apologize for what my friends said. They're really good people but they can be a lot misguided."

You snort mockingly at that, but he seems encouraged that he managed to get any form of response from you, and he continues on. “But you probably don’t want to hear that right now. Anyway, I just really wanted to apologize. I know how it feels to be distrusted because of what you are.” 

That gets your attention, and you look at him closely, realizing he is a cat hybrid. They get the same lot as fox hybrids, albeit less severe if the fact that he’s friends with Chan and his pack is anything to go by. 

“But you’re friends with them.” You comment suspiciously. 

“Well, it’s because Chan took me under his wing. When he trusted me, the others did too. I kind of owe him a lot.” 

“Ah, yes, the Perfect Chan agenda.”

“He’s definitely not perfect." He clarifies quickly, and you quirk an eyebrow at that. "Don't get me wrong, I love him like a brother but he can be really stubborn sometimes. He can never let himself be wrong about anything ever or else he'll start spiraling."

“No offense--umm, Felix, was it?” You ask and he nods eagerly, happy that you're talking. “If I wanted to chat about Chan I would've talked to one of his groupies.” 

His face blooms red and he sputters sheepishly, “You're right! I just wanted to apologize.”

“Apology accepted.” You say dismissively, waving him away, but he stays, and you give him an exasperated look.

He breaks eye contact, his gaze dropping to his hands.Fiddling with the cup in his hands, he mumbles quietly, “Can I hang out with you for a bit?”

“Now why would I say yes to that?”

He thinks for a while, a pout on his face as he concentrates on finding an answer that will satisfy you. You can see the exact moment an idea pops into his head as his face lights up with a mischievous smile. “Because it will piss off Chan?”

“A kitty after my own heart.” You reach out to pet his head, chuckling at the blush on his pretty face intensifies at that

 ____________________________________

Felix is something else, you’ll give him that. He’s sweet and cute and he radiates so much warmth and happiness. He’s different from the usual cat hybrids who are cold and aloof even if secretly affectionate. You had wondered at the beginning how a cat hybrid can be so close to Chan and his pack, but it took a whole five minutes of being in his company for you to see it. Simply, Felix exuded a pure, happy energy that was infectious to everyone around him. Even you, down in the dumps and heartbroken, were starting to feel a little better in his presence. 

Or maybe that was the inordinate amount of alcohol you have managed to consume throughout the time you spent together. And you guess it was quite some time because as soon as you stumble through the door to Chan’s apartment, the wolf is on you like a dog with a bone. 

“Where were you? I was worried sick!”

“Now that’s a funny joke.” You slur, laughing stupidly.

“Are you drunk?” He bellows, sniffing you out. Then he suddenly freezes, a low growl rumbling out of him as he grabs you roughly, glaring at you with wild eyes. "Why do you smell like Felix?"

"I met up with him." You shrug, maddeningly jubilant to the livid wolf. 

“What?” 

“I. met. up. with. him” You repeat slowly.

"You went out drinking with Felix?" You grits carefully, and you swear you can almost see his eyes grow dark and menacing. But you’re too blissfully drunk to heed the warning storming inside their depths. 

"Sure did." You reply nonchalantly. 

"I told you…” He says slowly, lips curling around the words and infusing them with a cold fury.  “to stay away from my friends."

"We were just talking." You insist stubbornly, needing him to see for once that you’re not the twisted monster he thinks you are. “He said he’d like to be friends.” 

Chan’s grip tightens even more around your arms, so much so that it pierces through the foggy numbness of your intoxication. The pain brings about a sense of sobriety, and your breath stills as you become aware of much danger you were in right now. 

But Chan wasn’t going to hurt you. Not physically at least. 

You feel the blood return to your arms as he lets you go, a look of revulsion and contempt vilifying his face more than anger or violence ever could. 

“Stay away from him.” He commands roughly, “I actually care about him.”

Any numbness you had gotten from the alcohol suddenly leaves your body and you crash, feeling all the pain all at once. 

I actually care about him. Unlike you. And you’ll sully him if you get close. 

“This--” You gesture between the both of you, face completely devoid of emotion. "is over."

________________________

A/N: you guys still want them together? because I think the next chapter will be the last. i mean it won’t matter anyway cuz I’m pretty settled on the ending lol but I’d still like to know

[belit0]

Hello Izuna bb! Hear me out pls😳 Kinky!madara with a very shy fem s/o who just bluntly asks him if she can sit on his face after she accidentally found out it was one of his biggest fantasies. (Maybe she found as he was mumbling about it on a dream)

Always drooling over my brother, geez, here you go beautiful.

It is known that Madara dreams. Big people have big dreams, or so they say, and hell, he's a giant man. That's why it's not a novelty to wake up because he hugs you in his sleep and whispers things in your ear.

Of course, the Uchiha is completely unconscious, he is a person who works all day long and hardly ever rests. At night, it is the only time he can find peace, and this is intensified if you are by his side.

But what nobody imagines is that Madara Uchiha himself speaks in his slumber. And he says things that make the spot between your legs moist even when he is not aware. That's the power he has over you, intoxicating even when he tosses and turns in bed and murmurs dirty things in the middle of his nights.

People would think that someone, as dedicated as him, dreams of the battlefield, of killing his worst enemies, of achieving his goals. Who would believe you if you recounted how he relates to you without even knowing how he wants to eat your pussy and make you scream?

Even you can't believe what you hear when Madara talks about how he wants you on his face, holding your thighs with force while his tongue slides up and down between your slit. You are melting in his drowsy embrace when he describes how he wants to ravish your clitoris, biting it softly until only his name comes out of your mouth.

And so, the night goes by. You can't wake him up, that would be simply selfish. With how hard he works, the most sensible thing is to allow him a good rest. But when his erection is pressed on your leg it's hard to resist the temptation.

Somehow you manage to do it, and although internally you prayed for him to open his eyes and fuck you right there, you managed to fall asleep in his grip, with his mouth in your ear sporadically narrating sinful things. With one of his arms around your neck and the other wrapped around your waist, there is no way to avoid that heat.

He has a talent for torturing you even when he is out.

But the next morning, waking up is a little more abrupt than usual.

A snarl makes you open your eyes, and when you focus your sight, Madara is staring lustfully at the angle between your legs. Wearing white underwear, the incriminating spot of wetting is eye-catching to the Uchiha.

Of course, he noticed it because when he became aware again, he could perceive that body language that gave you away so much. Even if you didn't think it was possible, he read you like a book, and when he saw your butt attached to his waist, the way you held your hand intertwined with his, and how both your legs were entangled, everything was obvious.

Rotating abruptly, he is on top of you, pressing you against the mattress and his body. Automatically your system begins to experience the hotness you felt hours ago, generating exciting vertigo in your stomach. Staring at you in the eyes, it was clear that he understood everything that was going on in your head.

You bit your lips as you placed your legs around his waist, and at your sign of approval, the Uchiha set to work devouring your neck. Between licks and bites, your back arched and your entrance collided directly with his growing erection, making him moan with bestiality.

Madara's rawness was maddening.

And when the boxers are about to come down because he seems to need to be inside you, you remember his drowsy story of yesterday. How he spoke of devastating and owning you in a position as outrageous as it was attractive, something never attempted in the room before. You are not someone who proposes the course of the fuck, usually, the overwhelming and demanding passage of him is what sweeps everything away.

But for some reason, you felt the need to challenge what he was bragging about in his sleep. Curiosity killed the cat, but the cat died knowing, we are told.

While he nibbles on your lobe with hunger, and one of his hands is pulling down his underwear, you stop him with one of yours. Doubt and confusion attack the face of the Uchiha, who detaches himself from your body to observe you with inquisitive eyes, and you realize that the time has come to explain what you want.

"Madara..."

"Hn? not in the mood? I thought-"

"No, love, I… I just... I want to ask you something."

"Oh… This is new, I'm all ears..."

"I want... I want to sit on your face."

"You want that? Is this true?"

"Yes..."

"Looks like it's going to be a great morning... Would you mind repeating it? It sounds delicious when it comes out of those pretty lips of yours."

"M-Madara! P-Please!"

"Your wish is my command, my girl..."

By turning you both over in bed, the Uchiha swaps positions with you, staying down as he makes you sit on him. Guiding you to his mouth, he pushes your lower back towards his face, and when you want to get rid of your underwear, he stops you.

"Not so fast, little one. Daddy's going to enjoy this, and he's going to enjoy it from start to finish. Keep that on."

Obediently, and blushing at the existing liquid stain on the garment, you allow him to position you on top of him, and it doesn't take a second for his tongue to find its destination. By running it over your dressed pussy, Madara holds your hip tightly so that you don't escape from him.

His strong hands digging into the side of your body and his cavity making a mess of your underwear work hard enough for you to start moaning, throwing your head back and holding onto the head of the bed.

When he notices that you are not looking at him, he separates the garment from your cunt with a finger and bites it, pulling it until it surrenders to his jaw. The sound of the fabric tearing makes you fix your eyes on him, and at that very moment, he inserts two fingers into you.

Maliciously grinning, he communicates.

"Keep your gaze on me and watch me eat your pussy mercilessly. Be a good girl and don't move those eyes.”

"Y-Yes..."

"Pardon? I think you missed something."

At that moment, the Uchiha bites your clitoris without too much force, brushing his teeth directly against your sensitive pearl, sending electricity to your whole body. A loud moan escapes your mouth and you squirm, surprised by the action. Yes, while he was asleep, he said he would do it, but you never thought that he would literally...

"Yes sir!"

"That's right, keep it up little bitch, and maybe I'll let you ride me."

Returning to his work, he takes his fingers out of you, while his tongue attacks your cunt again in its entirety. There is not a single corner that Madara leaves uncovered with his saliva or eat with his lips, and prudence or shame has been forgotten by you at this point.

You need to feel him, you need that mouth between your thighs, you need his nails digging into your waist to hold you still while you scream his name and ask him not to stop. When you announce that your orgasm is near, he separates his mouth and introduces his fingers again, moving them in the right way, touching that string that forces you to sing for him.

Trembling over his head, you try to hold on to the wall, and that makes him stop completely.

"Grab your breasts and let go of that damn wall or you won't finish until I think it's right.”

"Y-Yes L-Lord! ... p-please!"

"What do you want, my child?"

"L-Let m-me c-c-cum!"

"What a polite little girl I have... look how she begs to be milked by my fingers, such good manners..."

Taking up his movements, the Uchiha pumps his hand at a crushing pace inside you, curving his fingers just enough to leave you speechless and shaking on him. He punishes your clitoris with his tongue, grinning with satisfaction at your body's natural reaction to his punishment, and when you cum on his fingers, he tortures you with a second round of the same.

[thesmutshewrote]

Shh

Boyfriend!Kuroo x F!Reader (feat. Kenma/Nekoma)

Genre: fluff, smut

Prompt: “you better be quiet, princess”

Warnings: punishment, vibrating toys, overstimulation, oral sex (both receiving), degradation, public masturbation, choking, swearing, voyeurism, lingerie, name calling (slut, daddy, master)

Words: 10.4k

A/N: This is a College!AU! where Nekoma is Kuroo’s college team, therefore all characters have been aged up! I don’t see Kuroo as a fuckboy sex god, but I do think he knows exactly what he’s doing in the bedroom.

---

Summary: After your boyfriend Kuroo finds out his team will be having a dinner party after their first day at the National Tournament, you offer a little extra motivation. Little did you know, you’d be suffering in a deafening silence before the night ends.

---

Spending time with your long term boyfriend Kuroo has been your source of comfort, happiness, and simplicity. He’s an attentive lover, so much so that you wonder if he lives inside your brain, accurately reading your every thought. The pair of you met in high school during your second year and shortly became a couple afterwards, adored by your peers. As loyal as they come, Kuroo is loved by all who meet him. He has always motivated you throughout all your days, easy and difficult, helping you grow alongside him. Every morning that you wake up and pry your sluggish body out of bed to leave for school, every extra unnecessary purchase you decline yourself, every assignment you force yourself to finish is all for the sake of becoming a stronger partner for your accomplished boyfriend. He makes every inconvenience an opportunity and his ability to change the mood of a situation amazes you. That’s why it comes as no surprise to you when he’s able to create chaos within you at a moment’s notice.

He’s no stranger to fabricating playful competitions between the two of you which result in complete and utter pleasure for you, usually. The way he tempts and taunts you ever so slightly for weeks on end allowing you no release creates a hunger within you so insatiable even Kuroo himself can’t deny it. He knows exactly which buttons to press to make your face flush a bright rosy pink. How to conjure a heat between your thighs like magic at the will of his speech. Knowing he doesn’t even have to touch you to make you frustrated gives him an immense amount of pleasure. He loved corrupting you into the kinky succubus you’ve become, thanks to his overwhelming talents. You boast that your boyfriend is an absolute god in the bedroom, the best you’ve ever had, since he’s had a lot of practice with you. So when he creates bets and games that end in sinful pleasure, you can’t help but accept his offer and gamble with your body in hopes of a sweet reward.

---

“Babe, you’ll never guess what coach just texted us!” says a wide eyed Kuroo, leaning next to you on the bed to reveal blue and grey chat bubbles from the Nekoma volleyball group chat.

You read the latest text from Coach Nekomata announcing that they will be having a team dinner following their first day at Nationals, followed by excited texts from the other boys asking if there will be meat. Typical.

“Wow, that sounds like it’ll be really fun! You’ll deserve it after your match tomorrow,” you say, excited for your boyfriend.

“It sounds like a good time, but I had other things in mind as a celebration instead,” he says in a low voice, smirking and putting his hand on your thigh.

“Noooo sir,” you snicker, removing his hand. “It’s getting late and you need to get plenty of rest. We don’t have time for any of that tonight.”

“Is that so? Daddy wants to win tomorrow and in order to do that, I need to relieve some of this stress. You’ll be a good girl and get on your knees for me, won’t you?”

The look in his eyes is dark and moody while the corner of his mouth turns upwards in a sadistic smirk. You knew this means he has a strong desire to be pleased and won’t be satiated until he’s been properly taken care of by his submissive slut. You also knew this was the best time to tease him and make him even more aggressive with you, but tonight was different. The usual hunger that constantly dwells within you has dissipated and a new sensation is causing an uproar in your mind you cannot shake; torment him. 

Moving towards your raven-haired lover with a sensuous grin swept across your face, you crawl over top of him and lean down only inches away from his lips and get ready to utter the words that could easily be your demise. Wrestling with the need to satisfy your own cravings and carry out your bratty ploy, you hover over him a few seconds longer enjoying the sight of his full lips. Deciding to stay strong in your idea to tease him, you gently kiss him before pulling away and laying back down on the bed next to him. 

“No thanks,” you retort as you watched the dismay fill his face. Witnessing a sight so rare made it difficult to contain your laughter until sheer devilishness contorted his face. Before he could utter a word about your disobedience, the brightest idea flooded your brain. 

“Instead, let’s play a game.”

“Don’t test my patience,” he warns. “You better think long and hard before you explain this little game of yours because if it doesn’t satisfy me, you will have a long night ahead of you.”

Knowing how serious and restless he’s becoming, you create a deal that will entertain you while giving him enough pleasure in the long run that he won’t torment you too much. 

“If you win tomorrow, I will let you do whatever you want to me for one night; any of your wildest fantasies you’d love to try on me and I won’t tell you to stop. However if you lose, I get to use you in any way that pleases me,” you explain hoping he will agree to this deal knowing you’ll win either way.

Kuroo stares at you confused for a moment before busting out in a deep laugh. 

“Chibi-chan, that isn’t such a fair deal.. for you. We both know I’m going to win tomorrow on the court and then I will take you as my prize,” he taunts. Just the thought of him immediately coming to scoop you up in his arms after winning the game and taking you to the locker room to claim you has you biting your lip.

“..in straight sets. You have to win in straight sets.”

“Deal,” he says with a sly grin, pulling you closer and positioning your leg bent over top of his, giving him a perfect handful of your ass. 

“Watch your hands, lover boy. You can wait until tomorrow to have your fun with me,” you tease.

“Just be prepared because I’m going to punish you thoroughly for being such a disrespectful little brat when I win tomorrow and I’m going to enjoy every last second of watching you come completely undone at my touch.”

“Promise?” you smirk, biting your lip.

“Promise,” he glares at you with sultry eyes. 

---

The next morning you wake up feeling drowsy, the excitement of your bet kept you awake leaving too many thoughts running through your head waiting to be sorted. Noticing the cool feeling of the sheets behind your back, you turn around to notice Kuroo missing from your bed. “How long has he been gone?” you thought. As you check the time on your phone, you smell the disgustingly delicious aroma of a familiar scent coming from the kitchen. Bacon.

Mustering the strength to stand up, you quickly stretch before wrapping yourself in your blanket like a burrito to contain the warmth of your body. In the kitchen you discover Kuroo slaving himself over the stove cooking up a full breakfast for the two of you to share together. His generosity knows no bounds, but with the distress you caused your horny boyfriend last night, you became skeptical about the intentions of this homemade meal. 

“Good morning, beautiful. I hope I didn’t wake you,” he says smiling.

“What’s all this for, baby?”

Kuroo finishes plating your food and places it on the table next to a large glass of cranberry juice. He gently kisses your cheek before sitting down across from you. “Can’t I make my girlfriend a nice breakfast?” he pouts.

“Since when did we have this?” you ask, taking a sip of your cranberry juice.

“I went out this morning and bought some. I want my dessert to taste extra sweet tonight,” he snickers.

You roll your eyes at his filth while trying to hide your excitement, reminiscing how absolutely divine his tongue feels on your sensitive bud. Attempting to ignore the ungodly thoughts plaguing your mind, you quickly chug down a few sips of your juice, before instantly being brought back to reality by the mildly acidic taste. Kuroo hasn’t taken his eyes off you once since you’ve sat down and you’re hoping he didn’t notice the effect he had on you with the insinuation of being given such an intimate gift, but nothing gets past the trained eyes of the captain. 

“Isn’t it a little too early to be making a mess of yourself, love?” he teases looking up at you before taking a bite of his food. The way he dangles his fork loosely in his hands in front of his mouth gives you a perfect view of the veins slightly embossed in his knuckles. You clench down your teeth in a feeble attempt at cooling yourself down. A pink flush radiates across your cheeks as you realize a second later that your panties are already slightly wet with your slick. Your eyes shut closed slowly as you sigh and bite your lip, aggravated that he caught you so easily. 

“I’ll allow it this time, but don’t even dream of touching yourself before this little game of yours has claimed its victor.” He lifts himself off his chair and approaches behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders, gently squeezing them with his strong hands. He whispers in your ear, “if I can’t have you, you can’t either.”

After taking a hot shower to make an attempt at calming yourself down, you can’t seem to make any leeway as your imagination runs wild on possibilities for tonight. Running through every lustful dream you’ve been waiting to try with Kuroo if you win and wondering what he could possibly want from you if he wins. You manage to obey his one simple request and refrain from touching yourself, but the way he got you worked up so easily made you so frustrated. Upon finishing your shower, you pat yourself dry and head back to your room where you find Kuroo almost ready to leave. 

“I have to head out early for warm ups and a little meeting so I’ll have to meet you at the gym. You have the directions, right-” he stops as he turns around and watches your towel fall to the ground, leaving your bare ass before his eyes. He looks you up and down, biting his lip, imagining all the things he wishes he could do to you if he had the time. 

“Oops, my towel fell,” you flirt as you bend over to pick it up, exposing your folds for a brief moment before you straighten up again. 

Suddenly you feel his clothed body pressed against you and his length hardening against your back, while he leans down and whispers in your ear, “I will have no mercy on you tonight. You want to act like a slut so desperate for this cock, I’ll make you beg for it.” He leans down and gives you a quick peck on your bare shoulder before collecting his things and making his way out the door.

---

You finally make it to the gym and are able to score a seat in the front row of the stands with some Nekoma alumni Kuroo had introduced to you before. The boys finished their first match in straight sets, taking the victory as you cheered them on through every play. You could tell Kuroo was putting in extra effort at blocking today, glancing at you every now and then with an expression that says “prepare yourself.” He must be intimidating up close, since this team had trouble spiking against him, not that you’re surprised by your boyfriend's skill. 

After finishing up on the court, the team joined you up in the stands waiting for the next team they’d be playing to finish their game. Kuroo made his way over to you only to be cut off by a tall, silver haired boy you were close friends with.

“Y/n! Did you see me out there?” Lev asked you excitedly. 

You looked up at your boyfriend who was attempting to hide his disappointment, but sat behind his teammate for you to catch up. Noticing the expression on his face, you decided to rile him up a bit and test the boundaries of his temper. 

“Of course I saw! You’re the ace so everyone is watching you,” you say charmingly while putting your hand on his shoulder and looking back at Kuroo with a smirk. His eyes bulge staring at you, but he tries to play cool. 

Lev looks at you with stars in his eyes, adorably excited by being noticed as the ace. “Really? Thanks y/n!” he says as he hugs you tightly. 

Kuroo’s eyes flare up even more and he starts looking visibly angry. You look up at him helpless with innocent eyes that say “I didn’t do anything wrong”, loving the reaction you were getting from your flustered captain. Before either of you knew what was happening, Lev received a slap to the back of his head and immediately pulled away from you. 

A feisty blonde stands above Lev with an expression that looks to be a mixture of fear and anger. “What the hell are you doing, baka?! Kuroo is going to murder you for that!” he exclaims. 

Obviously unaware of his surroundings, Lev turns around to see your boyfriend staring at him while he cracks his knuckles in his hands, his eyebrows furrowed. “S- Sorry Kuroo-san. I couldn’t help it. She called me the ace!” he exclaims, earning a glare from Kuroo who still looks unamused at the tall boy’s antics.

“Don’t touch her,” he says sternly. Kuroo normally isn’t quite this possessive, but you think back to his words this morning and realize why he’s acting this way. “If I can’t have you, you can’t either.” The thought of anyone touching your body before he’s allowed to makes his blood boil.

In perfect timing, the next round is about to start so the boys start heading back down to practice their serves and spikes before they face their new opponent. As the team makes their way out, Kuroo stops by and gives you a kiss on the cheek before he whispers in your ear, “one more dirty trick and I will punish you right here for everyone to see since you seem to like an audience so much.”

Before you can say anything in response, he leaves to join the others out on the court. You wonder if you’re pushing him too far, but quickly justify your actions with reason. He’s more than capable of staying focused during games and as for your teasing, the worst he can do is punish you which was expected either way. You had nothing to worry about, or so you thought. 

Kuroo seemed distracted during this match. They were barely able to take the first set and you weren’t sure if that was because their opponent was simply better than the last team or if you’d really gotten into his head when you flirted with Lev. All you can do now is cheer on your man, you think to yourself, and accept your punishment later.

Approaching the back right corner of the court in a fresh rotation is none other than Kuroo, preparing to serve during their match point in a very close game. He looks over at you and the look on his face makes you freeze, knowing just how he’s feeling. The most stressful serve of the game rests upon his shoulders. 

“Kuroo, nice serve!” you cheer, as you stare at your boyfriend with eager anticipation. He nods at you and for a moment, the corners of his lips turn upwards. 

The whistle blows and Kuroo serves a perfect ball right to the opponents setter, limiting their options during the play. After a few short volleys, the ball goes back to the opponent and they make their last efforts to win the game. Their setter sends the ball left, just as Kuroo had anticipated, as the spiker lines up for the kill. Jumping at the perfect time, Kuroo and Lev leap up to block the ball. The spiker aims for a cross and sends the ball right into Kuroo’s hands. He completely shuts the ball out as they watch it fall on their opponents side. Their libero vaults towards the falling globe, extending his arm out as far as he can. Managing to get close enough to receive it is already slightly annoying, but the match is settled when their libero is unable to connect with the ball, just a fingertip away. 

The boys burst out in cheers, running to each other for a team hug while everyone frantically jumps, excited to play the sport they love for at least one more game together at nationals. You run down to the court as fast as you can and run to your boyfriend who opens you with arms wide open, jumping up to hug him. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you exclaim with a smile stretching from ear to ear. 

“Thank you, my love. You know what this means?”

You wait for him to make a smart remark about punishing you, but instead he answers, “this means we’re going to dinner.” The smirk radiating on his face has you confused. You assume this means he’s going to surprise you after dinner with whatever he has in mind for your punishment. Little did you know he had already planned every minute of the rest of your night.

You give him a kiss before he retreats to the locker room with his teammates and gets cleaned up for dinner. After staying back to talk to the alumni that came to the match while you waited for everyone to finish, Coach Nekomata approached the group. 

“It’s so nice to see you again,” he says to his former students. “and y/n, always a pleasure. Please keep cheering for us. Your presence brings us great strength.” His words are warm and comforting, especially knowing he means exactly as he says. “We’re having dinner together tonight as a team. All of you are more than welcome to join us,” he says before taking his leave.

The alumni talk amongst themselves and decide they will all be attending the dinner since they have extra time and miss their former teammates. You maintain conversation with the alumni, asking questions about Kuroo and his past on the volleyball team. It’s not every day that you get to hear first hand from an outside source all about the mannerisms of volleyball player Kuroo. 

Finally the doors to the locker room open and we wait in anticipation, but only your boyfriend walks out. Approaching him, you ask why he came out alone.

“I have a present for you. Go put it on,” he orders.

“This is so sweet. What is it for?” you wonder.

“Decoration for my prize,” he whispers, shooting you a wink.

Your eyebrow lifts up as your smirk matches his. Brushing past your lover, you make your way to the restroom for some privacy. Knowing his tendencies, you couldn’t even imagine what was in the bag, but you knew you probably didn’t want to unveil it on the gymnasium floor while other teams and camera crews were on their way out. Your boyfriend was the classic boy-next-door type. He does well in his studies, he’s laid-back and kind, and loves spending time with his friends. This dominant side of him only comes out in fragments when he teases, occasionally referred to as a provocateur, but no one would believe you if you told them how much he loves treating you as if you were a whore so needy for his cock. If you were honest with yourself, that’s exactly what you were.

Pushing aside the tissue paper, you see red fabric curled up at the bottom of the bag. Removing it carefully, it feels heavier than you had imagined. You unfold the lacy thong to feel a weighted object at the front end of the crotch. “Oh no,” you thought. 

Holding up your end of the deal, you slip on the panties and put the ones you were wearing in the gift bag. Making your way out of the restroom, you’re surprised to find Kuroo standing outside the door waiting for you. He grabs your hand and pulls you towards the exit. “Come on, everyone is waiting for us to go eat. You sure took your sweet time, love. Does that mean you’re excited?”

---

Before you knew it, you were at the restaurant being seated with the rest of the team. You sat down next to your boyfriend and began socializing about their matches and catching up with the rest of the team. While you're in the middle of a conversation with Inuoka, you feel the little vibrator inside your panties turn on and rattle against your clit just enough to surprise you and make you jump. Your leg hits the underneath of the table as you yelp, gaining a few startled stares from the team. 

“Y/n, are you okay?” Inuoka asks with a worried expression.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a leg spasm,” you cover, shooting a glance at your boyfriend who looks very pleased with himself, leaving the vibrator turned on.

You reach down to grab more food and lift it to your mouth, blowing on it to prevent your mouth from burning, but also using it as a cover for the sighs leaving your lips. Taking a bite, you purr “mmngh this is so delicious!” You glance over at your boyfriend who looks a little agitated that you’ve managed to find a way to cope with the situation so quickly. Every time he increases the level on his remote controlling the vibrator in your panties, you take a bite of food and moan into it, disguising your pleasure as an erotic lust for food. You may appear strange to others, but this is the best you can do under the circumstances to ride out your high without being caught. 

Kuroo leans next to you and whispers in your ear, keeping his volume loud enough that the people close to you could hear if they paid attention to you. “You better keep quiet, princess.”

“But it’s so good!” you whine, dipping your fingertip in sauce before kitten-licking it clean. 

“You’re making such a mess of yourself,” he growls, wiping a bit of sauce leftover on your lower lip with his thumb. 

“Ew, get a room,” a disgusted Lev shrieks.

---

The rest of the night proceeds as expected. Every time you try to speak to anyone when there’s a considerable amount of attention on you, he turns the vibrator on and shocks you. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” asks Fukunaga. “You’ve been jittery all night.”

“I’m just excited to see you guys play again tomorrow. Can’t help myself from shaking with excitement!” you explain, slightly lying and exaggerating to circumvent the tension building. You glance at your lover with a hint of annoyance, knowing he’ll pick up on your impatience for dealing with this punishment. In response, he turns up the power level to the third of seven settings, shooting you a glance that reads “I’m not done with you yet.” You clench your legs shut in search of relief only to gain the opposite. Your fingernails dig into the soft palm of your hand attempting to prevent a reaction as the pressure builds at your core.

As embarrassing as it would be for you to be caught doing something like this, especially in the presence of someone as respected as the Coach, it’s turning you on immensely being in the presence of so many people whilst having your sensitive bud being toyed with by your boyfriend. Discreetly, you move your hand to his lap and rub your hand over his bulge, earning you an increase to level four. Your hand naturally retreats away from him as you flinch, taking the change in speed as a warning not to be too bold since this is your punishment after all, but you can’t resist and you reach your hand back over, palming him through his sweatpants.

Looking mildly flustered, Kuroo allows you to touch him and ease some of the stiffness he’s feeling from the confinement of his pants. You glance up into his dark eyes and you smirk at each other, enjoying the scandalous situation you’re both in, before turning your head back to the table to avoid suspicion. Just waiting for one of you to slip up and be too obvious is sounding more and more like a challenge than he had ever intended it to be. A glutton for punishment, you take his hand under the table and slip it under your skirt, guiding his fingers to the wet slick seeping through your new panties and he lets out a small sigh. You bite your lip at the thought of what he’d do to you if you were at home, and Kuroo noticed this too. He saw you were lost in thought so he used it as the perfect opportunity to change the rhythm of the vibrator. Still on level four, the tempo of the vibrations shifted as he moved through the three options the device had. As he stumbled on the third, a wave of pleasure ran through your body and you couldn’t hold back as a whimper escaped your swollen lips. 

Luckily the group was getting a little rowdy since the alumni at the end of the table were already drunk. This time you barely managed to hold yourself back, but the increasing swarm of pleasure rising through you was pushing you dangerously close to your climax. You shot your boyfriend another expression, warning him you’re almost at your limit, but he just smiled at you knowing exactly what you meant.

Due to all the pulses your throbbing clit is receiving, it’s almost impossible to eat anything now. You’re trying your best to avoid suspicion, but every time you have a piece of food up to your mouth, he zaps you and your hand shakes. You could handle everything else, but not being able to eat was frustrating you more than words could describe. You were going to need a lot of energy to keep up with him tonight and he wasn’t providing you with any sustenance. 

Looking up, you see the teammate sitting across from you staring at your boyfriend. The setter glanced at Kuroo and back in your direction before averting his attention back to another conversation. “Did he notice something he shouldn’t have?” you wonder, but quickly dismissing the question as your folds begin throbbing from the intensity of the vibrator on your clit.

You took a sip of your water, draining your cup, trying to avoid eye contact with the boys. Kuroo hasn’t experimented with the remote while you were drinking thus far so you thought of it as your safe haven when you need to take a brief break. However, you’re now completely out of water and have to ask for more.

“Excuse me, could someone pass me more- ahh!” you yelped. Everyone was looking in your direction now, not only the group you came in with, but people seated at nearby tables as well. Your head ran completely blank as the embarrassment took over. You feel like everyone knew your dirty little secret of how your boyfriend was viciously toying with you in public, even in front of his respected elders. 

The setter who was staring at you earlier broke the silence. “Sorry, y/n. I didn’t mean to kick you.” You were startled by the sudden apology, especially because you were both aware he didn’t touch you.

“That’s okay, Kenma. I was just surprised, that’s all,” you explain. Everyone calmed down after they heard his apology, but it only makes your heart beat faster. You turn to Kuroo and notice him staring down at his phone, typing away at something. You sneak a glance and see messages to Kenma. 

“Do you know?”

“Do I know that you’re messing around with your girlfriend at a team dinner? Yeah, I know.”

“How did you figure it out? You’ve been single for as long as I’ve known you.”

“I’m single, not blind. Just go easy on her. If Coach finds out what’s going on, you’ll be doing diving drills as punishment.”

“The only punishment I’m focused on is hers.”

After he sends that final text, he puts his phone away and suddenly, the most powerful surge of vibrations you’ve felt this whole night came rushing to your core, forcing you to grip the table and bite down on your lip hard to suppress the moans attempting to escape from your tightly locked lips. You grip your boyfriend’s thigh with the other hand and shoot him a look that says everything he needed to know. You were about to cum right in the middle of the restaurant.

Knowing this, Kuroo didn’t dare change the level and interrupt the waves of pleasure being released through your lower half. Instead he leaned in to whisper in your ear words that made you blush.

“Since you like an audience so much and he already knows your little secret, I want you to look at Kenma when you cum for me.” 

You look up at your boyfriend smirking as he nods his head in the direction of Kenma who was already staring at you. His gaze was different than when you first locked eyes after he had protected you from getting caught. Instead, his eyes are piercing as if to undress you with his eyes. He knows exactly what’s happening to you and for some reason, you find it unbelievably exciting. You bite your lip and ogle his movements, knowing he’s trying hopelessly to conceal his hardening length underneath his sweatpants.

“Do you see what you’re doing to him, y/n? I can only imagine how fucking sexy you’d look taking him in your mouth,” he hums. 

The idea of your boyfriend watching as another man takes advantage of you has come up in your fantasies before. Maybe if you had won the bet, you would’ve asked for a threesome, but you push that thought to the back of your mind as your orgasm washes over you. You grip Kuroo’s leg hard, feeling like you were about to crush his bones. Obeying his orders, you look directly into Kenma’s eyes as you struggle to prevent your face from contorting and giving up your secret to the rest of the table. Kenma bites his lips as he gets drunk off the expressions you’re giving him. He’s unable to pull his eyes away from you and his arousal increases steadily. You see his hands move over his crotch, slightly palming himself.

You lean over to Kuroo and without taking your eyes off his best friend, you whisper, “Seems to me like he’s being punished just as much as I am. You won’t allow him any release?”

‘I know you like an audience, baby, but you’re mine and only mine. He can look and dream all he wants, but can’t touch,” he whispers back at you. For challenging him, he finally increases the device to its highest level. An overwhelming flash of white comes to your vision as you’re now shaking uncontrollably. His firm hand grips your thigh, steadying you to prevent speculation in your final moments. Kenma watches you closely as his deep lust washes over him and he’s forced to quickly announce his departure to the restroom, obvious to the pair of you that he needs to finish himself off in private.

As you ride the wave of pleasure until completion, you’re left feeling filthy in your chair. Heaving and out of breath, you look at your proud boyfriend and mutter the words he’s been waiting to hear.

“We need to go home. Now,” you say quietly, yet stern, the fire of your lust still ablaze in your eyes.

Smirking at you and putting his hand on your leg once more, he rubs his fingertips on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your dripping entrance. His eyes drift to his teammates as he speaks, “Coach, if it’s okay I think I should take y/n home now before it gets too late.” His hands squeeze your thigh slightly, letting you know he hasn’t stopped paying attention to your needs. 

“Rest well tonight so you’re prepared for the games tomorrow. The competition will only be getting harder from here on out, okay? Take her home safely,” Coach Nekomata replies.

Standing up to leave, you smile at the team as you try to cover yourself up as much as possible, trying to keep yourself from getting caught when you’ve already gotten this far. Your slick has already seeped through your panties and coated your thighs in sweet juices so you try keeping your legs closed as much as possible. 

“Thank you, Coach. We’ll be leaving now.” Your boyfriend says his goodbyes for the night and walks behind you out the door. 

---

You walk out the front door of the restaurant and no sooner does Kuroo have his hands on your waist. Smiling at his touch, you turn around and look up at your boyfriend giving you a pleased grin.

“You did so well in there, princess. Although I’m going to discipline you for being such a brat,” he leans down pressing his lips to your ear. “Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to fuck you right then and there, for everyone to see that you’re mine?”

You bite your lip upon hearing his words, knowing you were able to offer a little torture to him as well made you lean against him, your body pressed against his. A sigh falls from his lips and he starts walking forward slowly, letting you know he was ready to start walking again. On your way to the bus stop, you can’t help but mention a thought you had while in the restaurant. 

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course you can, dummy. What’s on your mind?”

“Would you ever be interested in a threesome?” you ask quietly, turning your head from him to avoid letting him see how bashful that thought made you.

“Hm, I’m not sure. I never seriously considered it because I like having you all to myself, but maybe that’s something we can try. Seeing how wet you got when Kenma watched you was really hot,” he explains.

You smile slightly looking down at your footsteps in line with your boyfriends. Worried that the question would make things awkward for a moment, a swarm of relief fills your troubled mind. Kuroo had always been ready to try new things, especially if you mentioned you wanted to try it first, but this felt different. As adventurous as he is, he is also very protective of you. You thought he might get jealous and neglect the question entirely, but you were happy he’s even considering it. Suddenly all your worries fade away, not sure why you even had them in the first place with a boyfriend as amazing as him. 

“Who would you want to join us?” you ask, the question sounding very light as your tone shifts.

“How could you ask me that?” he jokes. “You’re the one who’d be getting railed by them.”

“What about Kenma?”

“No, absolutely not. I think his heart would combust from the excitement of the situation, baby.”

You both laugh, joking together about fantasies you may act on one day. Talking to your boyfriend like this was so comforting, knowing you could confide in him about anything, but it also really turned you on. Hearing all of his kinks and fantasies spilling from his lips only makes you want to fulfill those dreams for him. You know he’d do anything to please you and acting on your own fantasies brings him immense amount of pleasure. As long as he can make you cum, he’s game for anything you desire.

---

On the bus ride home, you rest your head on his shoulder. There weren’t many people around so you didn’t feel the need to be as careful when initiating skinship. You were seated in the back corner, far from the gazes of other passengers who chose to stand in the front. Feeling your touch, he kisses your forehead before resting his cheek on the top of your head. Enjoying the feeling of his warmth, you close your eyes and allow yourself to get lost in thoughts of your lover. He wasn’t a perfect man by any means, but you knew he’d always try his best to take care of you and make you happy. You were lucky to have found a man who is not only your lover, but your best friend as well. The time you’ve spent by his side made you realize that he was the only one you could ever call yours. No one else could compare to the love you held in every corner of your heart for him.

“Baby,” you call.

“Hm?” Kuroo lifts up his head to look at you as you do the same.

“How did I get so lucky to have you?”

A smile creeps onto his face as he chuckles at your question. “You know, I still get butterflies when I look at you? Every morning I wake up with you by my side and I wonder what I did to deserve this life I’ve been given.”

“I love you so much, Kuroo Tetsurou,” you say, smiling as you stare into his hazel eyes.

“I love you too, chibi-chan,” he said, smiling back at you. He leaned in and kissed your cheek, but instead of pulling away, he leaned in close to your ear and whispered. “I can’t wait to show you how much I love you when I make you see stars tonight.”

“Oh my god,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Go to horny jail, you perv!” You can’t help but laugh as you swat your boyfriend’s toned thigh.

Both of you spend the ride home laughing and joking with each other. You listened as he shared stories about his teammates and he listened to your stories about Karasuno that you heard from Kiyoko and Yachi, your best friends. Nearby passengers gaze at the pair of you with jealous eyes, unbeknownst to you, as they admire your relationship. An old woman seated a few rows ahead has been listening to you banter and enjoy each others’ company as she stares out the window, watching the city lights pass her by. “Oh, young love. What I wouldn’t give to remember that feeling again,” she thinks to herself as she smiles. 

---

As you finally arrive at your shared apartment, you both enter and shut the door behind you, kicking off your shoes. Suddenly you’re swept off your feet, being held in the arms of Kuroo who is now carrying you bridal style towards your bedroom. You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck to secure yourself to him. He turns on the light as he enters the doorway and carefully places you at the edge of the bed, leaning down to kiss you. His lips feel soft against yours, pulling you into a passionate kiss before stepping back. He stands up and makes his way to the candle on your dresser, lighting it before turning off the bedroom light.

He approaches you slowly, “Since we won our matches in straight sets, just as you asked, it’s time for me to claim my reward.” His knee comes between your legs as he leans down on you, forcing you to move backwards on the bed and spread your legs to either side of his body to allow him space to crawl up with you. The warm glow of the candle highlights the outline of his body as if the sun itself kissed his skin and allowed him to possess its radiance. You can’t help but admire his breathtaking features as he hovers over you, and with this he explains the details of his promised reward between soft kisses.

“I want to take my time with you,” he finally says, peppering kisses on your jawline. “I want you to feel my desire for you raging through me.” His kisses move down your neck slowly. “I want to make love to you,” he admits before his kisses become harder. “And I want you to be a good girl for me.” He sucks carefully on your neck as you close your eyes, enjoying every honey-drenched word uttered from your boyfriend’s mouth. Your hand creeps up the back of Kuroo’s neck as you run your fingers through his raven hair. An airy moan escapes your lips when he bites at your neck, leaving a bruise. 

He leans up and looks in your eyes with a serious, yet sultry expression plastered on his face. “Do you think you can do that for me, kitten?” The corner of his lips pulls up into a smirk that has you questioning what awaits you, but as promised, you must comply.

“Of course, master. Anything for you,” you say as sweetly as you can muster. You can see the glimmer in his eyes at the name you unexpectedly called him. “If you’re going to have full control over me, then master is a fitting title for you, am I wrong?” you ask.

Kuroo bites his lip as he processes your words, his eyes veering down to examine your body sprawled out underneath him. He notices the dark hickey he’s already painted on your neck and he smiles, admiring his work. Your shirt lays flush against your skin, accentuating your curves, begging for attention as it strains against your chest. Those red panties he bought for you, still drenched in your own cum, peek out from the hem of your skirt. 

His hand reaches down to caress your inner thigh, moving closer to your heat. “You’re so sexy,” he whispers as his other hand pushes up your skirt to get a better look at the mess you made for him earlier in the restaurant. His fingers press against your clothed slit and he groans at the feeling. “Fuck, chibi-chan, you’re still so wet for me. I can’t wait to eat you,” he growls. Removing his finger from your panties, he lifts you up and pulls them off of you. You scoot backwards on the bed to give him more space, which he wastes no time filling. He lays down in front of you and spreads your legs with both hands. 

Suddenly you feel his soft lips on your thigh, kissing your supple skin, and you twitch slightly at the chills it sends through your spine. His lips attack your skin rougher, allowing his teeth to slip through and nibble at your delicate thigh. Your back arches and you whimper, feeling a tinge of both pain and pleasure. Kuroo smiles at your reaction and rewards you with a gentle kiss over the abused area before moving to the other side. The kisses on your opposite thigh immediately trail directly to your bare core, eventually making their way to your throbbing bud. All of the overstimulation you experienced at the restaurant made you sensitive, forcing you to overreact at the slightest touch. You gripped the sheets next to you as he kitten-licked your clit gently and you moaned. His eyes peered up at you, not wanting to miss a single move you made, and you watched them darken as you held eye contact when he began sucking on the little bundle of nerves he’d already set on fire.

“Fuckk, Tetsu, that feels so good,” you whimper, your brows furrowed together at the intense movements of your boyfriend's tongue. The fist firmly gripping the sheets found its way to the black hair falling messily over Kuroo’s eye to push his hair back for a better view of his face as he ate you out. His tongue rolled over your folds sloppily, letting his saliva mix with your juices to keep you drenched. He could feel you clenching around nothing as his tongue danced along your slit. 

You throw your head back against the bed as you feel the pad of his thumb beginning to gently rub against your throbbing clit. Kuroo enjoys the lewd moans he’s pulling from your swollen lips as he picks up the pace of his thumb, allowing his tongue to slip inside of you. Unable to control yourself, your body convulses under his touch, making you grind against his mouth. You could feel yourself getting ready to come undone all over again and try your best to look Kuroo in the eyes when you cum all over his tongue. He notices you staring and pulls his mouth away, only to add two fingers inside of you, curling upwards to hit your sweet spot.

“That’s right, kitten. Watch me while I destroy you,” he groans deeply. The tone of his voice taunts you, challenging you to defy him. His fingers piston in and out of you at a cruel pace, carefully positioned to continue abusing the same spot. Your hands come down on either side of you to curl the sheets into your fist as you squirm underneath his grip, your orgasm quickly approaching. Even the noises flowing from your mouth couldn’t be controlled anymore, the once cute sounds becoming cries for release of an animalistic nature. 

“I can feel your needy pussy gripping my fingers,” he hums. “Cum for me, baby.”

With those words, your head pushed down against the bed and your eyes shut tight as you finally released all the tension he’d built up inside of you. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you attempted to catch your breath and you looked down to see his face and arm dripping wet. You hadn’t even noticed you had squirted, but Kuroo looked up at you with a devilish grin as his tongue peaked out to lick his lips.

“Such a good girl for me. Now, open,” he orders as he rests his fingers on your lips. You happily oblige and stare deeply into his eyes, sitting up as you suck your juices off his fingers. He uses his other hand to pick up the hem of his shirt and dry his face, wipe your juices off his face lazily as he watches you. Your hands take advantage of his newly revealed torso as they slide up his toned abdomen, pushing up his shirt even more. He pulls his shirt off for you in one swift motion while you get up on your knees and pull him into your lips. The kiss is passionate and slightly rough, your lips fighting for more attention. He bites your lip and tugs on it, allowing you a moment to break away from his lips and trail your own down his neck. 

He groans slightly at the unexplored area suddenly being given attention, your tongue dragging a line up his neck before you suck on it. Your kiss is gentle, unable to leave marks on him wherever his uniform doesn’t cover, so you move lower to his chest. His toned chest is left with a trail of wet kisses as you go lower, your hands reaching up to find the waistband of his pants. You palm his hardening cock over his sweats and he groans, admiring how hot you look worshipping his body in the way you know he loves. Your kisses pepper over his happy trail before you pull his pants down just enough for his large cock to spring free from the constricting grip. You’re down on your hands and knees in front of him, legs spread wide with your ass in the air, your skirt lifted enough to reveal your ass. He groans at the sight as you take his length into your hands and begin to stroke him. 

“Any special requests, master? It’s my turn to please you.” Your flirtatious, bratty tone makes him want to put you in your place, teach you who exactly is in control. 

“Suck.”

You stick out your tongue and run it from the base to the tip before swirling your tongue around it. You kissed it gently, moving your lips to the side of his shaft. His hand reaches down and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and forcing you to look up at him. “I said suck. Now,” he threatens. The sheer dominance in his tone pooled wetness at your core again as you obeyed. You spit on his shaft and rubbed it in with your hand before wrapping your lips around the tip. You bobbed your head down slowly, trying to coat every inch with your spit. Each time you pulled your head back as you bobbed, you rolled your tongue out to lick the underneath of his shaft and you watched as his head lolled back. 

As his cock got wetter, your mouth got sloppier, bobbing your head quickly with your cheeks hollowed. His groans slipping through his mouth were nothing short of sinful and you loved hearing the reaction you earned from him. He gripped your hair in his fist, gently forcing you to take more of him and fucking your throat. You tried to look up at him as the tears pooled at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall from the harsh movements of his hips. He allowed you to pull your head away as you gasped for air and smiled up at him with your tongue out, stroking his length with your small hands. He looked down at you in awe, the little slut he made for himself smiled so pretty for him after being face fucked. He couldn’t have asked for anything more.

He pulled you up and took off your shirt before gently laying you back on the bed. Leaning down, he peppered kisses over your left tit while his hand came up and squeezed the other. His tongue flicked around your nipple before sucking and pulling at it. You sighed and ran your hand through his hair as he continued playing with your tits. He removed his lips from your left and moved onto the right, giving it the same attention with his mouth. Your back arched into him as he sucked on your nipple, rutting against him to find more friction on your aching core. As much as you loved the attention he was giving your chest, your aching hole clenching around nothing yearned for it more. He kissed down the valley of your breasts, leaving hickeys in his wake before sitting up and hovering over you. He wiped his thumb across your lips, hooking it in your mouth as he positioned himself over you again. “What do you want me to do to you? I want to hear you say it.” You try to respond, but his thumb makes it hard for the words to come out of your mouth, your reply mumbled. He removes his thumb and grips your face instead. 

“I want you to fuck me, Tetsu.”

He smirks and groans, “beg for it, kitten.” He lines up his aching cock to your pussy, slowly rubbing the tip against your folds.

“Please fuck me. I need to feel you inside me and I want you to be rough. Please, master. I need it.” Those vulgar words slipped from your pretty mouth as he thrust into you, bottoming out all at once. You gasped at the new feeling as you clenched around him, your back arching off the bed as you searched to hold onto something. You reached for his arm and you squeezed it as he starts to fuck you to a rhythm, not letting you adjust to his size.

His hips thrust into you hard, shaking your whole body from the force of it. He pushes your legs down towards your chest and leans himself on top of you. The angle he’s pressing into you makes you clench down around him as he deeply thrusts directly at your sweet spot. 

“Shit, yes, please fuck me just like that,” you whimper, the intense pleasure pooling in your stomach. Hearing you beg for it only made him thrust harder into you, loving the way you sounded when you were so needy for him. You quickly felt your third orgasm of the night threatening to escape you as he mercilessly pounded into you, grazing your cervix with every pump. You grabbed his arms with both of your hands, squeezing them while you stared into his darkening eyes.

He watched every quirk your face made as it contorted with pleasure, adoring how beautiful you looked being fucked out. His hand came up to your neck and squeezed the sides of your throat gently, just barely cutting off your air flow. Your mouth hung agape as you stared up at him, brows furrowed as you focused on the sensation flowing through your body. Your moans became shrill as your orgasm washed over you, squirting all over your sheets and Kuroo’s torso. Your juices dripped down him deliciously and you felt it dripping down your thighs as well.

Kuroo looked down at the pleasant sight with a devilish grin, pulling out of you as you caught your breath. “You’re so wet for me tonight, babe. Now turn around so we can cum together this time.” Getting up on your hands and knees proved slightly more difficult than you had anticipated. Your legs already feel shaky from the intense position he’d kept you in and you can hear him chuckle as he helps you position yourself in front of him, satisfied with his work. He pulls your skirt off, finally leaving you completely bare, and he looks down at you, biting his lip. You can feel him lining the tip up to your entrance again, but he pushes it in very slowly and stops when just the tip is in.

“Be a good girl and bounce on it.”

You quickly follow orders as you push your ass back on him until every inch is inside. His groan echoes in the room behind you as you start grinding yourself on his cock. There’s something about the feeling of using him to get yourself off that makes you feel so dirty and both of you love that sensation. You bounce back faster, slamming yourself against his hips and moan for him. Before you can continue, Kuroo’s hand lands on your lower back and pushes you down against the bed before taking control. He pistons his hips into you as he stuffs you full, your head now pushed against the pillow. His hand comes down hard on your ass, spanking you a few times in a row, leaving your ass red and tender.

The sensations you’re experiencing all at once become overwhelming, but he’s making you feel so good and you don’t want it to stop. You match his pace and continue bouncing back on him slightly in an attempt to keep your needy hole filled with him. He bites his lip as his grunts become more staggered, approaching his end. He leans down and reaches his fingers around you to rub your throbbing clit. Your body immediately becomes limp at the touch of his finger as you scream. The sensitive bud feels as if it had burst into flames all over again.

“Where do you want my cum?” he asks breathlessly. You can tell he’s dangerously close to his release, but so are you with the way he’s toying with you. 

“Inside me! Fill me up, master!”

He groans deeply, “Fuck, such a good slut for me.” With a few more thrusts, his pace becomes faster and uncontrolled. In a final thrust, he paints your insides white and you cum around him as he slowly thrusts into you to ride out your highs. A symphony of heavy breathing fills the room accompanied by the sight of sweaty luster on your skin. You fall down completely on the sheets and try to rest your abused body as you feel him fall on the bed beside you, trying to catch his breath.

“Did you get what you wanted, Tetsu? The prize you were after?” you questioned, already knowing the answer.

Kuroo curled up next to you and pulled you close, cuddling you into him. “I always want to make love to you,” he says, kissing your forehead. “You’re so beautiful and sexy like this.” His hand gently comes down to your ass, rubbing circles over the red marks he made earlier from spanking you. You always loved his gentle after care, especially since he loved being rough with you. He knew you needed to be pampered a bit to compensate for his power, even more so on nights he doesn’t hold back.

“Can we lay here for a minute before we go get cleaned up? Frankly, I don’t think I can move,” you say laughing, knowing that you were only half joking. He chuckles, looking down at your legs proudly.

“Don’t worry, chibi-chan. Just lay here and I’ll get you all cleaned up, okay?” He kisses your forehead again before walking to the bathroom to get a warm, wet towel. He comes back to you and asks you to spread your legs for him, which you obey. He smirks as he sees his seed dripping from your aching pussy before wiping away both of your juices. His washes you gently as you try getting your energy back. You sit up in bed and grab the cloth out of his hand.

“It’s okay, Tetsu. Let’s go get a shower. We need to change the sheets so I have to get up anyway,” you gesture to the large wet spot in the middle of the bed from your cum. He helps you off the bed and walks with you to the shower.

“Start showering without me. I’ll prepare the bed for us before joining you.”

You nod and get in the shower, cleansing yourself of the remnants of the intimate act you shared with your partner. You reminisced over the time you spent together as a couple, your love never wavering. How could it when you had such an amazing boyfriend? He’s stayed consistent through thick and thin, always taking care of you, as if the honeymoon phase was forever. You smiled to yourself thinking about how he used his opportunity to have you in whichever way he wanted to make love to you, as you often do. Although the vibrator was a sneaky little trick, you didn’t put it past him since you’ve tried many scandalous things over the years to add some spice into your sex lives. Reminding yourself of just how lucky you were was something you did daily, always making sure to remind Kuroo as well that you were grateful for him. Your relationship was healthy and fun. It was the kind of love that made everyone around you jealous as they patiently waited for their special someone to arrive. 

Kuroo joined you in the shower after cleaning the bed and putting on new sheets. You both washed each other, admiring the sudsy curves on each other’s bodies. The warm water rinsed the soap off your bodies and you dried up before hopping into bed. You spent the night wrapped up in each other as you cuddled up to sleep, sharing the warmth of your blanket. 

---

The next morning you woke up earlier than Kuroo who was sound asleep beside you. “He must be tired from all the energy he used up yesterday,” you thought to yourself. You decided it was your turn to make him a big breakfast. Being well fed and energetic would surely aid in his upcoming matches and Coach Nekomata would kill him if he was ill-prepared. Kuroo made his way into the kitchen before you had even finished cooking, so he helped you set the table. After eating, you both got dressed and left together for the gym.

“How’s your condition?” you ask, your boyfriend seeming more lively.

“I feel good! Your cooking certainly helped me wake up. Although you know I’m going to win today regardless,” he winks. 

“Ah, yes. My big, bad boyfriend is gonna tear up the court!” you joke sarcastically. You both laugh and banter as you enter the gym and meet up with the rest of the team. They greet you and Kuroo before he retreats to change into his uniform, leaving you alone with the boys. You can feel their eyes on you, which was strange, especially since you’ve grown so comfortable with them. What could they possibly be staring at? Sudden realization flooded your mind that your neck was covered in hickeys. You pulled your hair down to cover your neck, avoiding eye contact with the team and trying to feign innocence. A few laughs burst through the silence, their owners being Lev and Yaku.

“Hey, what are those?” Lev teases. “Is that why you and Kuroo left dinner early last night?”

“Y/N, I thought you were more innocent than that,” Yaku pouts, looking flustered.

Your face flushed pink, attempting even more obviously to hide them now that they’ve noticed. The commotion caused the rest of the team to look over, curious as to what was going on. Your eyes panned over the familiar faces, but stopped as you landed on one face in particular who was staring at you, his gaze different from the rest. Kenma. The rosy flush raged into a full tomato red at the hungry eyes of your boyfriend’s best friend who was gazing upon your neck.

“I can’t believe you left without me,” he whispers under his breath.

Kuroo approaches the team, fully changed and ready for practice, “What’d I miss?” The boys disperse except for Kenma who was still staring a hole into you. Kuroo caught on to what was happening after seeing your neck and walked over towards his best friend. Before completely passing him, he stops and mutters something to him loud enough for only you and Kenma to hear.

“You’re lucky my girl likes you. Maybe next time I’ll share.”

[spencers-renaissance]

can't un-sing a song that's sung.

Summary: The worst thing about it is that Derek isn’t even surprised when he gets the call.

Tags: drug use, overdose, hurt/comfort, guilty derek & hotch, angst with a hopeful ending, bedside vigils, protective derek & hotch NO MCD

Pairing: Gen (Platonic Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid; Aaron Hotchner & Spencer Reid)

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

Major TWs, obviously. I'm just so angry that no-one did anything about Spencer's addiction in season two, so I decided to punish Derek and Hotch by having the (almost) worst-case scenario come to fruition. Fic inspired by this gifset & title from this poem (v short but v poignant) Fills the 'Overdose' square on my Bad Things Happen Bingo card.

The worst thing about it is that Derek isn’t even surprised when he gets the call.

His heart sinks, of course, and his stomach feels like it bottoms out. His chest tightens and he struggles to breathe for a minute and a half, his hands clamming up as his tongue freezes and he can’t find the words to respond to Hotch over the phone. But he isn’t surprised. And that, when it really and truly comes down to it, is exactly where his sins lie.

He races as quickly as he can to the hospital, not obeying the traffic laws by any stretch of the imagination as his hands grip so tightly at the steering wheel that his knuckles turn white and the pattern of the leather; the seams where it's sewn imprint themselves on his palm. His heart pounds rapidly and it’s all he can hear, blood thudding in his ears as the tight knot of anxiety sits heavy in his stomach.

He’s just pulling into the hospital car park when he realises that the last time he felt like this — God, the last time he felt like this was when he first realised Spencer was missing all those months ago. He heaves a dry sob as he abandons his car in a space he hopes is the right one, and slams his palm down hard on the steering wheel once.

He allows himself one more guilt-ridden, heartbroken sob before he forces himself to calm down, doing his best to ignore the tumultuous emotions raging inside him as he shuts the car door behind him and hurries towards the entrance.

It’s hard not to cry when he first locks eyes on Hotch. Seeing his calm, stoic supervisor in a state of utter disarray — red-rimmed eyes, messed up hair, ruffled clothes — somehow makes this all seem a bit too real. Maybe in the car ride over he’d still clung to a small, pathetic bit of hope that this is all a nightmare, that he’ll wake up in a minute and he’ll drive to work and Spencer will already be at his desk, beavering away.

In the harsh lights and bustling noise of the hospital corridor, he knows that’s not going to happen.

They don’t say anything as they stare at one another, both clearly struggling to bite back the raw emotion threatening to spill from their eyes, to unleash itself in a full blown meltdown. Eventually, Hotch sits back down and buries his face in his hands, and Derek joins him on the little two-seater bench.

He doesn’t claim to know much about hospitals or medical care in general, but he knows for damn sure that waiting on a bench outside the ICU is not good, and he’s doing everything in his power to not think about that too hard.

They’ve been sat in stony silence for countless minutes before Derek finally lifts his head, though he still can’t bring himself to look at Hotch again. “Have you called the others?”

Hotch swallows, and Derek can see the tear-tracks trailing down the side of his face out of the corner of his eye. He pretends not to notice them.

“No,” he says, voice unsettlingly shaky. “Only you.”

He decides now is not the time to dwell on that. “Is he— is he going to lose his job?”

The only reason none of them had done anything sooner was because they knew how important this job is to Spencer. And Derek hates with a burning, roaring passion that their hesitation; their cowardly delay, might have cost him his life instead. Just the thought brings another choked sob from his lips, and this time the tears come with it. Before he knows it, his shoulders are shaking violently and all the emotions Derek is struggling to name finally come pouring out, right into Hotch’s lap.

He feels an arm wrap around him and he’s too broken not to lean into it, seeking comfort from the one person in the entire world who can offer it right now. Falling apart in his superior’s arms is not how he saw his Thursday evening going, but he’s too exhausted to care.

By the time he finally pulls away, Hotch is crying too, and they sit a little closer on the bench.

“Spencer won’t lose his job,” he says determinedly, looking Derek in the eyes. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Derek knows that they will have to lie. Papers will be forged and Hotch will be backed into an impossible corner, and he knows that they could lose their jobs if they are ever found out. He doesn’t fucking care. They’ve already failed Spencer in a disgusting, immeasurable, utterly unforgivable way, and he’ll be damned if they ever do that again.

“Good,” he says, and that’s the end of that.

Derek doesn’t understand most of what the doctor tells them, but he doesn’t really care that much for the technicalities anyway. All he cares about is that Spencer had overdosed in the parking garage of his building and was found by a neighbour he doesn’t even know that well. He cares that a damn near stranger was there for Spencer when he wasn’t, and he cares that Hotch was called as his emergency contact, and as such, Derek can finally step up. He can walk into his room and hold his hand and tell him that he’s here now, and he’s not leaving again.

He cares that Spencer is going to be okay.

He’s still asleep when they’re finally allowed to take their seats by his bedside, and Derek tries very hard not to cry at the sight of him, but it isn’t easy. There’s still a bluish tint to his fingernails, and he looks pale and clammy under the oxygen mask. Medicine drips slowly into the line connected to the cannula in the crook of his elbow, and the heart rate echoing out from the monitors is still alarmingly quick.

The evidence of Derek’s failings is staring him right in the face, and it’s hard not to turn away, but he refuses to let himself. He has a lot to make up to Spencer, but he can damn well start by sitting with him here in his darkest hour.

“We all knew.”

Derek looks up from Spencer’s hand to meet Hotch’s eyes. “Yeah.”

“We all knew, and we didn’t do anything about it.” The guilt in Hotch’s voice is momentous enough to rival Derek’s own, and it hurts to hear. Derek failed Spencer as a colleague and a friend-maybe-something-more, but Hotch failed him as a father figure.

He feels tears well up in his eyes again and he does his best to swallow them back down. “Emily did.”

A violent sob tears itself out of Hotch’s lungs, and it’s so loud that Derek almost flinches. “And isn’t that just so much worse? She barely knows him! I met him at lunch with Gideon when he was nineteen, I’ve known him for seven years! Before all of this went down, he almost called me ‘dad’. And I sat back and watched him suffer with both the PTSD of being kidnapped and the fucking heroin addiction he developed because of that bastard, and I did nothing!”

Derek’s at a loss as he watches Hotch break down in front of him, his voice breaking as he shouts, tears streaming down his face as he dissolves into sobs.

“He’s never gonna forgive me. Nor should he. I can’t stand myself right now.”

A little uncertain of the right thing to do, Derek stands up and crosses to the other side of the bed and wraps his arms around Hotch like he did for him only hours earlier. “We all fucked up,” he agrees, “but we’ll get through this. We might never forgive ourselves, but we can always do better. We can do right by Spencer as he recovers, we can help him get clean, help him keep his job, remind him of how loved he is. We can’t abandon that duty just because we failed at doing it before.”

Hotch sits back up and wipes at his eyes furiously, casting his eyes on Spencer. He reaches a hand out and brushes it through his short but untamed curls tenderly, his thumb caressing his eyebrow and forehead gently.

“I know,” he says quietly. “I won’t fail him again.”

Both Derek and Hotch spring into action as soon as Spencer stirs, waking up slowly through the layers of sleep until he’s staring at both of them with a look of terrified uncomprehension in his eyes.

“Hey,” Hotch says softly, hand moving to cup the side of his face. “You’re alright, you’re safe. You’re in the hospital with me and Derek, and everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Spencer slowly looks around the room as the realisation of what’s going on slowly dawns on him, and soon the anxiety is replaced with abject horror and to Derek’s dismay, he immediately starts to cry.

“Hey, hey, pretty boy,” he murmurs as soothingly as he can, following Hotch’s suit and tangling his fingers in Spencer’s hair. “Don’t worry about anything right now, okay? Hotch and I are gonna fix everything right up, and we’re gonna help you. We’re gonna help you like we should’ve helped you before.”

He hates that he loses his composure slightly at the end, but Spencer relaxes slightly so he takes it as a win.

“You can go back to sleep now, Spencer,” Hotch says gently, spotting the signs of exhaustion easily. “We’re gonna stay right here with you, okay? We’ll be here when you wake up.”

When he does finally awaken again, he explains through tears and strangled breaths that he didn’t mean to, that he wasn’t trying to die, he was just so tired and in so much pain that he hadn’t calculated the dosage right.

Hotch and Derek calmly explain that they’re not judging him, and that they’re going to help him through the hospital’s rehab program. Spencer refuses their apologies but they repeat them anyway, trying not to show just how much they hate themselves as they do.

They rope Penelope in, and she helps them make sure Spencer keeps his job, but otherwise their team is entirely oblivious to their chaotic and regret-filled Saturday night spent in George Washington University Hospital.

Most of all, though, Derek does absolutely everything in his power to make sure Spencer is happy, no matter how torn-up and scarred he might feel when he goes home to his own apartment. It isn’t much compared to his property business and his coveted role at the FBI’s behavioural analysis unit, but to Derek it’s his most important and worthy mission in life.

And if that spirals into something more, well. Maybe that’s just one good thing to come out of that small, stuffy, heartbreak-riddled ICU room.

taglist: @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @temily @enbyspencer @reidology @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @tobias-hankel @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @sbeno22 @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids (add yourself to my taglist via this form!!)

[yourmidnightlover]

Babe can i request for your celebration of 1k followers: Smut 11 with angst 4 and happy ending

Also ‼congrats‼ babe ❤️🎉😏

of course! thank you so much, sweetie :,)

angst 4 just GETS TO ME. it’s very angst but very addictive. it also turned into an actual fic, kinda?

if anyone wants to request another blurb, the prompts are found here.

angst #4: “i can’t... you’re engaged.”

smut #11: “please, just let me please you.”

CW: kinda angsty, reader thinks he’s such eating when he kisses her (he’s not-it’ll make more sense once you read it), fingering, cream pie, nicknames (good boy, princess), kinda switch!reader and spencer, overstimulation, slight cum play ig?, unprotected penetrative sex. *let me know if i missed anything*

you never thought you’d actually lose spencer. okay, you didn’t lose him. he’s not dead. but he can’t be yours anymore. you don’t really know how it happened. they had just gotten into the relationship. max, is her name. and she was wonderful, which might be the worst part.

she was beautiful and kind and great with children and probably perfect for spencer. but you wouldn’t let yourself believe that they were actually together. you refused. until he came into the office one morning looking... concerned? he was biting his bottom lip gently and didn’t speak a word as he entered. there was no ‘random fact of the day’ or smart quip. it was just rush.

“spence? are you alright?” you walked over to his desk.

“what?” he looked up at you. “of course i’m fine. why wouldn’t i be fine?”

“you just look... bothered,” you pressed as you leaned on his desk, your hand accidentally touching his as you tried to get comfortable. that’s when you looked down and saw it. “sorr...y.”

a gold wedding ring on his left ring finger.

they had only been together for four months. four months. you had known him for four years. and he was no longer gone. he was no longer yours, although he never really was to begin with. there was a beat of silence, a rather long one at that. you just stared at the band of metal for what felt like a decade before looking back at his face. he looked like he was sorry, like maybe he could tell what that meant for you.

in the months of his new relationship he came to you during their issues. when he felt as though she was moving a bit too quickly, when he thought he should end it, when he felt too insecure around her... everything. he came to you. it’s like he had all of these seeds of doubt planted in his mind. you had more than one opportunity to squander their relationship.

but instead you were a good friend. you helped him resolve the conflict and you mended their already failing relationship. and here all of those moments were, mended together in the form of a ring that was supposed to represent the bond of forever, biting you in the ass.

“um,” you cleared your throat before removing yourself from his desk, metaphorically from his life. “congratulations,” you said curtly before scurrying back to your own desk.

you thought you still had a chance. he still gave you the look that had given you hope for all of these years. his eyes would say, ‘i want you,’ but clearly, all he wanted was a life without you. the two of you had been teetering on the edge of being in a relationship and being strictly friends. maybe you had been imagining the glances he would send you and the lingering stares and the way his hand would touch yours so delicately when you needed the reassurance. maybe you just needed a break from him to organize your feelings.

that’s what you would do. a little distance would do you some good. and maybe, just maybe, you could finally get over your little crush love for him.

so when you would normally go on a lunch break with him, you worked through it. when he asked what you wanted to eat, you gave him a simple shrug and a, “i’m not hungry,” with a tight-lipped smile, which was the best you could muster up.

when you would normally take a coffee break with him to stretch your legs, you stayed put and opted to continue the case file you were on. as it turns out, taking no breaks from your work really helps everything go on much quicker. you finished your workload by 4:30, so hitch let you go home.

you didn’t tell spencer goodbye.

the next day was the same. and the next. and the next. the days turned into weeks and then eventually a month and then two.

it was hard to not talk to him. it was as if a piece of you were missing. but he was never a part of you, so why did you feel so empty? he seemed perfectly fine without you.

but he wasn’t. he wasn’t fine without you. he knew that him getting engaged in such a short amount of time hurt you - and it hurt him too. truth be told, he didn’t want to marry maxine. he intended on breaking up with her on the date she proposed, she just beat him to it. and he couldn’t bring himself to embarrass her like that. she seemed so excited and happy. but he was so worried about you and what you’d think the entire time he had the ring on his finger.

and when you stopped talking to him altogether he swore he might not make it. but it seemed as though that’s how you needed to cope. so he gave you your space. once the two month mark of you not talking to him and avoiding him hit, he knew he couldn’t last like that.

he couldn’t live without you. it’s been ages since he’s heard your laugh and he’s having withdrawals. so he did something that was extremely hard for him.

when you saw him enter the office with a bouquet of flowers before anyone was even here you rolled your eyes. did she give those to him, too? did she just want to rub it in? no, you wouldn’t think bad of her just because she’s with the man you’re in love with. you avoided his gaze and turned your attention back to your case files, trying to avoid spencer at all costs. then you felt a presence at your desk. a shadow was cast over your papers and you looked up to see him standing above you. you gave him the same tight-lipped smile as two months ago and went back to your work.

“y/n,” he whispered, you looked up to see him biting his lip.

“what, spencer?” you answered with an edge to your voice.

“i want to talk to you,” he looked around at the still empty office. “in private, please.”

“spencer, i can’t... you’re engaged,” you sighed, trying to lower the tears that threatened to pool in your eyes.

“please, let me explain-“

“what more is there to explain?” you scoffed as you rose from your seat. “clearly you want to be with her for the rest of your life. so have fun, spencer. i just... i can’t.”

spencer watched you walk away. away from him and away from the flowers with a card that told you what had happened. the card that would’ve explained everything. and the card that would’ve explained how he had cut things off with maxine.

that very night, however, he decided he’d had enough. he drove to your apartment and banged on your door, without the flowers since they were dead now. when you opened the door to reveal spencer reid standing outside of your apartment, you fought the urge to both cry and slam the door in his face.

“what?” you asked, pleading with your eyes for him to give you some sort of peace whether it be from him leaving or telling you what you wanted needed to hear.

“please...” he asked, “just let me explain.”

you moved out of the doorway so he could come into the room. you closed the door, your back pressed against it, and crossed your arms over your chest defensively.

“explain,” you ordered, deciding to not be sad but instead be angry with him.

be angry with the fact that he chose her. be angry that he didn’t tell you in the first place. be angry that he showed up to your apartment right as soon as you had finally finished crying - again.

“i-i...” he couldn’t find the right words.

he couldn’t figure out how to tell you the right way how much he loved you. how he wanted you. how he needed you.

“for christ sakes, spencer!” you laughed. “you come here late at night, when your fiancé is probably waiting to see you, and what for?! to stand there and just look at me like some dumb, broken fucking puppy?! i’ve never been one to doubt my intelligence but maybe i am dumb. maybe i’m dumb because i let you break me. i never should’ve let myself fall in love with you, you- you asshole,” you were seething. you didn’t even realize you had been crying until he looked at the tears streaming down your face. “how could you? how could you hurt me like that? you lead me on and then... just get engaged so easily. what am i to you, spencer? because i thought i meant more to you than that.”

“you do. you do!” he interrupted. “you mean so, so much to me. more than i know how to describe,” he walked closer to you and tried to take your hands in his, you reluctantly allowed it. “i love you. i love you, y/n. i love you so much it makes me idiotic. i have been chasing my tail trying to figure out how to get you to talk to me again, and if the only way you’ll talk to me is by yelling then so be it. i just need to hear your voice and i need to hear your laugh.”

“leave, spencer,” you tried to pull your hands from his. “you’re engaged. you’re going to get married. i won’t be a home-wrecker, spence. i don’t know what kind of game you’re getting at but telling me you love me isn’t going to make me forget that you’re in love with someone else. you’re marrying someone else, spencer. i can’t-“

and his lips were on yours, his hands now cupping your face. the stupidest thing you allowed yourself to do - you let him in. you let his tongue enter your mouth slowly. you let yourself indulge in his lips on yours, the soft pillowy flesh you’ve dreamt of kissing since you had met him.

his hands trailed down your face and to your waist, pulling your body flush against his own. you whimpered into his mouth, obviously spurring him on as his hands trailed further around and squeezed your ass. your breathing picked up as his lips traveled down your neck.

you had forgotten all about his engagement and how much he hurt you. just this one time, you would give in.

he sucked a dark mark on your neck before sliding his hands underneath your shirt, palming gently at your breasts.

“spencer,” you sighed softly from his touch.

“please,” he muttered. “please, just let me please you.”

“okay,” you agreed, your hands pulling at his shoulders.

“thank, fuck,�� he groaned before you helped him toss your shirt on the couch, leaving your bare chest on display for him. “you’re beautiful.”

“shut up,” you pulled his lips back to yours to silence him.

“no,” he mumbled with a smile on his lips. “you truly are, y/n,” he tried to tell you between kisses.

“what did i say, spencer?” you pulled back with an angry look on your face.

“before i actually do shut up, i need to tell you something,” his hands on your waist began stroking circles into your soft skin. “i ended things with maxine.”

“why the fuck didn’t you lead with that?!” you questioned.

“i saw you and i just-“

“god, i don’t care,” you muttered before pulling his lips to yours once more. “do something, spence,” you rolled your hips into his as you began to undo the buttons on his shirt. “i need you.”

he let his hand trail to the front of your body and enter your shorts once he looked at you for permission. his fingers danced over your underwear and found your clit quickly, rubbing gentle circles.

“stop teasing,” your hips bucked into his hand before you pulled his hair, he moaned into your mouth.

his fingers finally entered your panties, and he gathered the wetness that had been collecting before going back up to your clit, circling the bundle of nerves moderately slow.

“fuck,” you groaned, making him eager to please you. he picked up his speed on your clit before letting his fingers travel back to your entrance, slowly pushing to fingers in. “g-good boy, baby.”

his hips rutted up into your own upon the praise. he curled his fingers, trying to find that spongey tissue inside of you that would drive you mad. once he found it, he began thrusting his fingers into you, allowing his palm to hit your clit just right each time he slammed them inside of you.

“fuck, i’m so close,” you whined, sucking on his bottom lip before pressing a kiss to it. “keep going, baby.”

and boy did he go. he loved watching you come undone on his fingers, it would probably definitely become his favorite sight in the time to come. the way your lips hovered over his own, your eyes became hooded, and your moans wanton. when he let his lips travel to your neck and find the soft spot he somehow knew drove you crazy, he also let the one hand on your waist travel up and palm your breast, tweaking the nipple gently between his fingers and sending you over the edge.

he pulled back swiftly to watch you as you came undone. a sheen of sweat littered the high points of your face, your chest was heaving for air as your hips continued to fit into his hand as you came down.

“i need you inside me,” you muttered softly, almost afraid of his rejection.

“good,” he breathed out before grabbing your face and connecting your lips once more, you led the both of you to your bedroom.

you crawled onto the bed, and he undid his pants, throwing them aside and carefully navigating up to you once more.

“hi,” you smiled, your hands stroking his cheekbones.

“hi,” he whispered back, admiring the softness of the situation. “are you ready?”

“yes, please,” you nodded your head as he spread your legs, taking his place between them and lining himself up with your entrance.

“so tight, princess,” he groaned once he barely entered you.

“princess?” you quirked a brow at the nickname.

“yea, princess,” he chuckled before giving you another chaste kiss that you deepened, clenching around his dick once he was fully sheathed inside of you. “shit, do that again,” and you did. “fuck, you’re so good, baby.”

“please,” you pawed at his back as if that would push him to start thrusting. “fuck me.”

“you want me to fuck you, princess?” you nodded eagerly.

he slowly began thrusting in you before he rapidly snapped his hips. ever thrust of his hips meeting yours caused the sound of skin on skin clapping echo inside of your room. he brought his hand up to your face, gently cupping it and tracing your bottom lip before you took his thumb into your mouth. you sucked on his thumb, your tongue tracing his fingerprint. maybe that way you’d become a part of him forever, right on the tip of his fingers.

“fuck,” he moaned before he sped up even quicker. “touch yourself, princess. make yourself cum on my dick.”

you were already close - spencer could feel it. it only took a couple more seconds before you were clenching and unclenching around him, the fluttering of your pussy sending him over the edge. his hot cum spread into your stomach, filling you with a sense of warmth and satisfaction you hadn’t known you needed.

“so good, spence,” you muttered as he fucked his cum back into you, you hissed at the overstimulation.

“your mine, princess,” he pressed a soft kiss to your neck before pulling himself out of you.

“wrong,” you corrected. “you’re mine.”

“whatever you say,” he smiled, turning his head to look at you. “i’m sorry,” he said sincerely.

“yea, me too,” you sighed before sitting up, not looking at him.

“here,” he jumped up out of the bed. “let me,” he ran into your bathroom, not missing the chuckle that emitted from your lips. he returned with a damp, warm washcloth and got between your legs once more, this time eye level to your pussy. “fuck,” he whispered.

he used his fingers to spread your pussy open, admiring the way his cum was dripping out of your entrance, you pussy seemingly clenching around nothing. suddenly, his tongue was on your entrance and lapping up the both of yours arousal. your hand shot into his hair, gently tugging at it as he ate you out.

“so good, spence,” you ground your hips into his face. “please don’t stop-don’t stop!” you knew he wouldn’t stop as he pushed you over the edge for the third time that night. “god-fuck, yes!” you looked down to admire the man beneath you, smiling when you saw that his eyes were still on your face, watching you come undone.

“such a pretty pussy,” he squeezed your thigh before rising back up to give you a belated kiss. “now i can clean you up,” you both laughed.

for the first night in two months, neither of you worried about what was to come - even if you probably should’ve worried about work. you both were guarded by each other’s presence; nothing threatened to breach the security you had with one another. because, now, he was yours. and you were his.

[bloody-bee-tea]

Clean

1) me writing about ace!jc again? more likely than you think

2) I asked my friend to give me ten word prompts per month, so I stay in the habit of writing fic regularly and "Clean" was the first prompt yes it's just mostly me trying to find a way out of coming up with titles

Jiang Cheng is feeling good. Great even, with Nie Mingjue as a solid weight on top of him, slowly leaving a trail of kisses down Jiang Cheng’s neck and it is so damn good.

Until Nie Mingjue’s hand moves from Jiang Cheng’s side lower and lower, and then everything is suddenly not good anymore as Jiang Cheng is being flooded with a sense of unease.

“Stop,” Jiang Cheng breathes out, reaching out to catch Nie Mingjue’s wrist in his hand and to his credit Nie Mingjue does immediately stop. “I’m not—I can’t—” Jiang Cheng stumbles over the sentence, but Nie Mingjue only hums low in his throat.

“Alright,” he easily says, as if it’s not strange at all that Jiang Cheng still isn’t ready for more and he puts his hand back on Jiang Cheng’s side.

Jiang Cheng likes how big it is there, how it easily spans around his ribcage, but he realizes he’s just trying to distract himself.

“Do you want to stop or do you want to go back to kissing?” Nie Mingjue asks him, clearly noticing that Jiang Cheng is still tense and Jiang Cheng forces himself to relax.

“The kissing was nice,” he whispers and gets a wicked smile in return, right before Nie Mingjue dives in again.

“Then let’s just keep doing that,” Nie Mingjue says between kisses and Jiang Cheng would really love to fall back into that, to simply stop thinking and go back to enjoying this, but he can’t.

His mind is whirring and he’s so angry with himself that he can barely bring himself to reciprocate and of course Nie Mingjue notices.

“Wanyin,” he eventually whispers against Jiang Cheng’s lips and Jiang Cheng groans before he slams his head into the pillow once.

“I’m so sorry,” he gets out, incredibly mad at himself for ruining the mood yet again but Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he easily tells him. “If you’re not ready, then you’re not ready.”

He says it as if there’s nothing wrong with it, as if there’s nothing wrong with the fact that Jiang Cheng still can’t allow more than kissing even after months of dating and he doesn’t understand where Nie Mingjue takes all this patience from.

“Stop thinking about it,” Nie Mingjue advises him and presses a kiss to the hinge of Jiang Cheng’s jaw. “There’s nothing to think about. If it doesn’t feel right, then it’s not the time.”

“How can you just say that?” Jiang Cheng wants to know, as he puts his hands on his face. “Why are you so okay with that?”

“Because I love you and I want you to be comfortable?” Nie Mingjue gives back, though it’s not really a question, Jiang Cheng knows that.

“I love you, too. I’m sorry that I’m not ready yet.”

“My heart,” Nie Mingjue sighs and drops kisses all over Jiang Cheng’s face. “What did I tell you before?”

“That there’s nothing to be sorry about,” Jiang Cheng dutifully replies, but he starts to doubt that with every week that passes where he can’t allow Nie Mingjue to go further than the kissing.

“Then stop saying it,” Nie Mingjue says with a small smile and gathers Jiang Cheng up in his arms. “You wanna cuddle or you wanna do something else?” he asks, clearly completely content to let Jiang Cheng set the pace of whatever they will do next and Jiang Cheng turns in his arms until he can hide his face in Nie Mingjue’s chest.

“Cuddle,” he mumbles and he feels Nie Mingjue’s chuckle more than he hears it.

“Who would have guessed,” Nie Mingjue teasingly says and presses a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head, before he relaxes.

He does seem to be happy enough to simply lay there with Jiang Cheng but it takes Jiang Cheng a long time to push his guilty conscience aside so that he can relax as well. Nie Mingjue tells him again and again that it is fine that he’s not ready for sex yet, but the more he says it the more it feels unfair to Nie Mingjue.

Jiang Cheng just isn’t sure what the right solution to this is.

~*~*~

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng whispers, his eyes still glued to the screen. “Fuck,” he says with more vehemence when the words don’t change and he puts his head into his hands.

He only came to google to see if there was something wrong with him for not being able to sleep with Nie Mingjue. He did not expect to have to readjust his sexuality.

But Jiang Cheng has read several different entries on asexuality now and the more he read the more he felt that it fit.

And it is the worst thing, in his eyes.

How is he ever going to explain that to Nie Mingjue? How will he ever tell him that he will never, ever sleep with him?

Jiang Cheng can already imagine how it will turn out—with Nie Mingjue regretfully, but determinedly breaking up with him, because a man has needs, right, and if Jiang Cheng can’t meet them, then what would keep Nie Mingjue ever by his side?

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng says again, just because he can and because he feels like the situation really requires it and then he reaches for his phone.

Only to hesitate over his contacts.

Who is he going to call? Wei Wuxian will no doubt make fun of him, however good natured it would be and Jiang Cheng is not ready for that. And Nie Huaisang is the last person he can tell about this because for all that they are best friends Nie Mingjue is his da-ge.

If Nie Huaisang thinks this will hurt Nie Mingjue in any way, he will tell him, before Jiang Cheng can even dial Nie Mingjue’s number to tell him himself.

No, those two are definitely out.

That leaves Jiang Cheng with only one option, and even though he really doesn’t want to discuss any sexual topics with his sister, he presses the call button.

“A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli greets him warmly and it brings tears to Jiang Cheng’s eyes that he can’t even explain himself.

“A-jie,” he gets out, and he knows that his tone immediately worries her.

“What happened?” she softly asks and Jiang Cheng takes a few deep breaths before he straightens up in his chair.

“Nie Mingjue is going to break up with me,” he says, because that much he is sure about by now, but it hurts to say the words out loud.

“Why would he do that?” Jiang Yanli asks and Jiang Cheng loves her for not immediately saying that Nie Mingjue would never do that.

“Because I’m not going to sleep with him,” Jiang Cheng whispers and he crumbles again, hunching in on himself because it hurts so damn much to even think about losing Nie Mingjue over this.

“If you’re not ready and he’s going to demand you sleep with him anyway, then it’s better if you break up,” Jiang Yanli carefully says and Jiang Cheng chokes out a laugh.

“I’m never going to be ready,” he admits and then he tells her all about his descend into google hell and what he found out about asexuality.

There’s a beat of silence from here when he is done but then she says: “It doesn’t really change anything, A-Cheng. If you don’t want to sleep with him and he’s going to demand it anyway, then it’s still better if you break up. But you have to come clean to him about this.”

Jiang Cheng blinks at that, because how can he just deny Nie Mingjue of that if it’s such an integral part of any relationship, but before he can say so Jiang Yanli goes on.

“If he loves you, he will respect your sexuality.”

“But wouldn’t that mean I should respect his sexuality as well?” Jiang Cheng asks, because it doesn’t make sense if it’s one-sided.

“You both have to respect the other. It’s just—there are ways for him to relieve himself, right? It’s different for you; you shouldn’t have to do something that makes you uncomfortable like this only to make him happy.”

“I don’t—isn’t a relationship about compromise?” Jiang Cheng asks, because he’s sure that if he tells Nie Mingjue outright that it’s never going to happen, he’ll walk away from him.

“Usually, yes. But sometimes you have to set some hard limits, especially if it makes you feel like this.”

“Did you set hard limits with that peacock of yours?” Jiang Cheng asks and it startles a laugh out of Jiang Yanli.

“Yes, I did, actually. And it took him a while to accept them, but it’s working for us. It’s worth a try, A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli says and Jiang Cheng is tempted to ask what those limits are, but he bites his tongue.

He doesn’t need to know everything about his sister’s relationship with Jin Zixuan.

“What if he breaks up with me over this?” Jiang Cheng asks, his voice small, because he doesn’t even want to imagine it.

“Then he wasn’t right for you. A-Cheng, think about it. Do you want to force yourself to sleep with him just to keep him by your side? How would it make you feel to know that only the promise of sex would keep him with you?”

“Like shit,” Jiang Cheng whispers and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re right.”

“Your a-jie is always right,” Jiang Yanli teasingly says. “Go talk to him. And then tell me how it went, okay?”

“Alright. Thank you,” Jiang Cheng sincerely says and by now he’s glad that he called his sister.

She definitely had better advice than Wei Wuxian, that’s for sure. It still doesn’t do anything to resolve the ball of nerves in his stomach, but Jiang Cheng guesses that’s something he has to deal with himself.

And he knows that will only go away once he laid it all out for Nie Mingjue.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng is nervous, but he’s also ready. He has a whole speech prepared and some links ready on his phone, should Nie Mingjue have some questions, and most of all he decided to really tell Nie Mingjue that it’s never going to happen.

Better to just manage those expectations from the start.

“My heart,” Nie Mingjue suddenly says, startling Jiang Cheng out of his frantic pacing and Jiang Cheng has to admit to himself that he might not be as ready as he thought he was. “What’s going on?” Nie Mingjue asks him and Jiang Cheng is ashamed to find that he’s shaking.

He loves Nie Mingjue. He’s not sure he can watch him walk away.

“Won’t you talk to me?” Nie Mingjue prompts him gently when Jiang Cheng continues to stay silent and it overthrows the carefully laid plan in Jiang Cheng’s mind.

“I’m asexual and I’m not going to sleep with you,” he blurts out and then simply stares at Nie Mingjue, panic crawling up his throat.

“I—okay,” Nie Mingjue says with a small frown and it’s enough to prompt Jiang Cheng into a lengthy explanation, his phone at the ready.

When he’s done, Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem as confused or as put out about this as Jiang Cheng had expected and Nie Mingjue must have read that right off his face.

“I actually knew about half of what you just explained to me,” Nie Mingjue says with a small shrug and when Jiang Cheng frowns at him, he huffs out a slight laugh. “Do you really think Huaisang’s orientation can be described in a simple term like bi? Have you known Huaisang to be that straight forward?” Nie Mingjue asks him and Jiang Cheng remembers with a start that of course Nie Huaisang would have come out to his brother.

It was stupid of Jiang Cheng to think that he’d be the first to explain the finer details of romantic and sexual orientation to Nie Mingjue.

“Okay, but—what does that mean for us?” Jiang Cheng asks, the uncertainty eating away at him, but he tries to reassure himself that it’s a good sign that Nie Mingjue didn’t immediately get up and leave.

Though that little bit of hope might crush him later, because there’s still the chance that Nie Mingjue will walk out on him.

“That we’re not going to have sex,” Nie Mingjue carefully says, clearly unsure of his answer and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“But we’re in a relationship.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Doesn’t that mean it’s expected?” Jiang Cheng asks, and he knows he’s digging his own grave here, but he can’t help himself.

“You have a relationship with your brother. And with mine, for that matter. Do you have sex with them?” Nie Mingjue asks him with a teasing smile.

“Ew, gross,” Jiang Cheng immediately says and he relaxes slightly when Nie Mingjue laughs at that.

“See? It’s not required.”

“But it’s different for you, isn’t it? We’re in a romantic relationship.”

“Exactly, my heart,” Nie Mingjue says and holds his hand out for Jiang Cheng. “A romantic relationship. From what I understood, that is still very much the case, is it not?”

“Yes, of course,” Jiang Cheng immediately says and presses a small kiss to the corner of Nie Mingjue’s mouth. “I love you.”

“So the romance part of that romantic relationship is covered. I don’t know what you’re so worried about.”

“About—that you—don’t you have needs?” Jiang Cheng finally blurts out and Nie Mingjue levels him with a look.

“I can take care of my physical needs on my own,” he tells him. “And for my romantic needs I have you, don’t I?”

Jiang Cheng can do nothing but stare at Nie Mingjue, because he didn’t think it would be that easy. That Nie Mingjue would be that understanding.

“You expected me to break up with you over this,” Nie Mingjue finally says with a small nod and Jiang Cheng winces.

“I was afraid of that possibility?” he unsurely gives back and Nie Mingjue sighs.

“Wanyin, no offense, but if our relationship was only built on the expectation of sex I would have left a long time ago,” Nie Mingjue bluntly says and Jiang Cheng jerks, even though he knows it’s true.

He left Nie Mingjue hanging for months before he found out about his orientation after all.

“But since I love you, that expectation is really not everything to me.”

“I love you, too,” Jiang Cheng gives back and leans in to kiss Nie Mingjue.

“So I guess kissing is not off the table,” Nie Mingjue says and teasingly nibbles on Jiang Cheng’s lower lip.

“No, it’s not,” Jiang Cheng replies with a smile and Nie Mingjue nods.

“But hands above the waist, right?”

“I—yes,” Jiang Cheng says, still a little hesitant to set his boundaries like this, but Nie Mingjue only smiles reassuringly at him.

“Cuddling?”

“Still very much on the table,” Jiang Cheng decisively says because it’s one of his favourite things to do with Nie Mingjue.

“Thought so,” Nie Mingjue laughs and then tugs Jiang Cheng right on top of him, before he tips them over on the couch. “Gonna get to that right away then.”

“What a hardship,” Jiang Cheng deadpans and snuggles deeper into Nie Mingjue’s arms. “Thank you for not leaving me,” he whispers once he feels comfortable and Nie Mingjue sighs but he presses a lingering kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head.

“Thank you for being brave and telling me,” Nie Mingjue gives back instead of reassuring Jiang Cheng that he would never and if Jiang Cheng is honest, this is much better.

He never does well with promises, after all, and so this means more to him.

Jiang Cheng tries to get even closer to Nie Mingjue, who tightens his arms around him in response, and really, this is the best feeling in the world.

Who even needs sex when they have Nie Mingjue to hold them like this.

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