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highvern · 19 hours

Text

Whatever You Like

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f!reader

Genre: smut, fluff

warnings: fingering, oral sex, dacryphilia, spitting, bondage, blindfold, anal play, facial, praise kink, manhandling, unprotected sex, dom/brat dynamics (sir kink), sex toys, double penetration (with dildo), spanking/clit slapping, filming

Length: ~ 6.1k

Note: any complaints can be directed to @bitchlessdino for thinking cheol would be the type to film an amateur sex tape. ceremonial mention of @gyuswhore for beta reading and encouraging this tom foolery. also @wooahaeproductions and @millennial-fangirl t agging @wonustars @ugh-yoongi and @the-boy-meets-evil for more fun

summary: Your husband takes his birthday more seriously than anyone you know. When he's scheduled for a business trip across the country, forcing you two to celebrate apart for the first time in your entire relationship, you decide to get creative with his gifts this year. Can be read as a stand alone or a continuation of Freak Like Me!

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

“I hate it,” your husband announces before collapsing on top of you.

Seungcheol is always pouting about something. He’s dramatic by nature, a classic whiner. He does it for attention. Your attention.

It is a business trip out of the country for two weeks. He hates it because his birthday is in the middle of it.

Since the dawn of your relationship, birthdays are spent naked in bed for hours followed by fancy dinners and gifts (despite your objection he’s all you need) and more domestic love making that left both of you sore for days.

This will be the first birthday in eight years you’ll spend apart. And with how serious Seungcheol takes his birthday, it’s more devastating than the six months you spent long distance after college.

“I know, baby,” you coo. “We can celebrate when you get home though. Go to that steakhouse downtown you like.”

“But I want to spend it with you. I always spend it with you.” He shivers as you rake a hand through his hair, nails scratching just right to make him weak.

“One birthday isn’t gonna kill you. Promise.”

“You don’t know that. People die of broken hearts all the time.”

“Oh my god,” you snort. “I’m not leaving you, you’re going away for two weeks. On a promotion trip you begged for.”

“What if I became a trophy husband?”

“You’re too bougie for that. We’d end up homeless.”

All of his complaints prove he’s unaware of your scheming. The second he shared the news, you set to work.

The guest list for a surprise barbecue two days before he flies out is confirmed; custom cufflinks he’d been planning to buy himself tucked away under extra sheets in the guest room; white lingerie that’ll remind him of your wedding night already in the mail, set to arrive while he’s gone to enjoy upon return.

But there’s one thing for him to take on his trip. A consolation prize for missing each other on one of the most important days of the year (tied with your birthday and just above your anniversary).

You’ve taken videos and pictures of yourself in varying states of ruin for Seungcheol’s enjoyment. He’s done the same. Flashes of his fist covered in cum in the dim light of his room back when you didn’t cohabitate. Videos of him jerking off, rambling about all the things he’d do to you.

He’s only ever admitted it once. A fantasy he keeps tucked away, bubbling just under the surface. It’d been almost two years ago when drunkenness threw inhibitions to the wind (along with the way his cock stretched your throat) that Seungcheol, without much thought to the matter, admitted how badly he wanted to film it. Film you, mouth full of him, cum spilling across your lips, eyes watering.

Neither of you mentioned it again afterwards but the idea stayed firmly planted in your subconscious.

And what better occasion to make your on screen debut than your husband’s birthday?

“I do have one idea…to make up for you being gone.” You say, smoothing down the back of his shirt. “For both of us, really.”

“And what is that Mrs. Choi?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Okay,” he huffs with amusement. “I can pencil that in.”

“I wasn’t done yet.” You force him off your chest into a cushion, taking over the prime real estate of his lap. “I want to make a sex tape.”

“What?”

“So you can watch it whenever you miss me during your trip.”

“Baby, you don’t have too—”

“I want to.” You nod. “Honestly more for me than you but I thought it’d be a nice birthday present.”

“Are you serious?”

“Mhm.”

“Shit, okay.” He takes a breath, calming down the need growing in his chest. “Tonight?”

“No, I’ve gotta get some stuff.” You kiss his neck just to tease him, chest to chest with a grind back into his crotch because he’s your husband and you can.

His chin tips back to give you space, fingers twitching at your waist thinking of all the possibilities. “What kind of stuff are we talking about?”

“It’s not a surprise if I tell you.”

“But it’s for my birthday,” he argues.

“Perfect time for surprises then, isn’t it?” You hop off him and beeline for the shower, his footsteps barely a second behind.

Based on aesthetics alone, you’d pass for one of those amatuer porn couples; you wrapped in Seungcheol’s favorite pair of panties sans bra, him half naked with sweatpants low on his waist. A lamp casts the room in a dull warm glow that you hope will soften the unforgiving quality of the camera.

Seungcheol is meticulous. If he had it his way then the professional grade camera he got for Christmas would be catching every minute detail but you draw the line at feeling too much like a porn star. Instead it's a cheap tripod you ordered online hastily and his phone.

Watching him focus so intently gets you hot; the flex of muscles from his fingers to the bare skin of his chest, hair falling in his face as he balances it on the chair dragged in from the dining room. Your pulse races while you model on the bed for him; testing every angle and position he directs you into with heat in your gaze.

“We really should have done this sooner. Holy shit,” he mumbles.

“Looks good?” you ask over your shoulder, ass high in the air with a painful arch.

He grabs one of your cheeks with force, fingers digging into the curve and spreading you bare. “You look amazing.”

“Stop, you'll make me blush.” Empty words because you bend up at the waist, chest on show for later viewing.

“My wife asked me to film a porno for my birthday. I’ll say whatever I want, thank you very much.” He palms whatever he can reach, tweaking your nipples until they ache into peaks.

“Speaking of,” you sigh. “There’s a few more surprises, birthday boy.’

“Really?”

Popping up, you plant a lazy kiss to his mouth, licking lewd intentions across his teeth. “In the top drawer of the dresser.”

Living alone means all the fun toys are kept in easy reach. The drawer is dedicated space for vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, paddles and whatever other random goodies collected over the years. So to have something not in your collection already makes him rush over to find out exactly what you’ve been so secretive about the past few days.

Seungcheol pulls out the silver bag, approaching the bed once again before separating the tissue paper to find what's inside.

“Are you serious?” he asks.

Leather handcuffs dangle from his hold. Red with silver hardware. The kind with clips so he can tie you up anyway he wants. And maybe later, anyway you want to tie him up too.

“I am,” you smile, kissing across his chest. “There’s more in there.”

He digs back in, easily finding the slip of red silk.

“Babe…” he breaths.

You kiss away his next words, soft and indulgent; a gross amount of tongue that comes with years of partnership. Both of you get lost in it, hands roaming, warming from the inside out. Seungcheol sucks on that spot below your jaw, a handful of ass threatening to distract you from the original purpose of tonight.

“I want you to do whatever you want to me,” you whisper pathetically only for him to hear, already forgetting the camera a few feet away.

Nostrils flaring, he watches as you mouth down his front. “You think I want to tie you up and blindfold you?” He’s cocky now; plain on his face how much the idea turns him on.

You slip to your knees on the floor, palm molded to his cock already plumping at the idea. “I think you wanna show me who is in charge.”

Seungcheol sizes up your offer. The way you look up at him with an innocent expression like you aren’t mouthing over the tented crotch of his pants. “Then take my cock out like a good girl.”

You force his sweats down with eager glee as Seungcheol starts recording above. You're in your element between his thighs, a place you excel with minimal direction. With the ideas you’ve planted in his head, you won’t have to do much to get him off.

Gentle kisses along his thighs make his stomach dip. “Can I use my mouth?”

“Not yet.” Seungcheol shakes. “You’ll taste it plenty later. Use your hand.”

You rub his cock with a spit slick grip, mouth watering for the familiar flavor of his spend promised later. The tip of his cock shines in the low light. It’s quiet except for the dirty wet squelch and his already labored breath. You could get off to this alone. A hand between your thighs as you jerk him to completion until he paints your chest white. You suck your lip between your teeth at the thought.

“Look here.” He’s holding his phone near his chin, recording the crazed gleam in your eye. The blindfold rests in his other hand, forcing it into your empty one. “Put it on.”

An easy command leaving you riddled with anticipation. Without vision, there's no telling what his next move is. Giving Seungcheol the power to do whatever he pleases. Every time you’ve given him power, he’s made it worth your while and then some. Now won’t be different. He cups your face, thumb spreading your lips until you suck with a moan. And as quick as it came, the heat is gone.

It’s replaced by the prod of his cock against your cheek. He slaps it against your chin, a hot wet trail against the seam of your lips you eagerly lick away once he moves again. His dick rubs across your face lazily, degrading and dirty. Just how you like it.

You kiss whatever comes in reach; the vein webbing the underside, the head, his balls. Anything he’ll give you, you’ll take.

“Open your mouth.” Seungcheol taps it against your chin once again. He doesn’t let you suck him in immediately, giving you an inch before moving away only to repeat the motion over again. “Stick your tongue out.”

You do without hesitation, messy already. He forces the tip into the flat of it. A flood of his taste serving as a precursor until he gives you more.

You like to show off under normal circumstances and with a camera in the mix, you’re edged to the side of debauchery. Seungcheol’s cock is heavy on your tongue; an easy slide to the back of your throat with little resistance. You stroke him into your mouth, tongue lashing against the slit in the head. His thighs tense under your nails with a good choke before you pull off.

“Looks good?” You ask, hand replacing your mouth.

“Fucking perfect.” Seungcheol guides you back down with a hand on the crown of your head. With new leverage comes more thrusts but you take each in stride. Precum mixes with spit, dribbling out the corners of your mouth and down your chin. “God, so good to my cock. Feel so good like this.”

You make it sloppy, throat tightening in a loud gag. He hisses your name when you manage to take another inch from his praise. His weight sinks into your throat; holding there until you grow dizzy from lack of air.

“Gonna cum,” he hisses. “Where do you want it?”

“On my face, come on my face.” You gasp for a quick breath before taking him again.

He’s close, bucking into your mouth with renewed vigor from something so dirty. “Want me to cover your pretty face in my cum?”

The vibrations of your moan make his hips kick again. You bottom out with a choke, wet eyes hidden beneath silk. Another swallow, more tongue against the slit until he gives a shaky jerk.

“F-fuck, okay.” Seungcheol pulls himself away, fisting his length. “Stick out your tongue again. Shit, shit.”

He goes for show rather than convenience, painting your chin and cheeks in messy streaks. At least your eyes are safe from any errant drips. You suck him back in, tongue collecting whatever stuck to the head.

“Look so pretty like this,” he coos, slapping his cock against your tongue with the last few drips.

Years together means Seungcheol knows your game. In the distraction of getting him off, you snuck a hand between your legs, rutting against it pathetically. He let you get away with it far too long not to notice and now you’ll pay the price.

He kicks your thighs apart, leaving you without a hint of relief. A rough grip at the back of your neck pulls you away without warning. “You touch yourself when I tell you to. Got that?”

Even with cum cooling on your skin, you still want more. “Sorry, sir.”

A harsh exhale is all the warning you get before you're pulled to your feet. It doesn’t last long. Bent over the mattress, you're prone to a swift slap against the back of your thigh. Predictable. You know exactly what that word does to him; how it drives him up the wall. The last time you called him ‘sir’ he made you come so many times you couldn’t walk the next day.

“You’re gonna be,” he threatens with another swat before wrestling your wrists together at the dip of your spine.

The cuffs link together easily. After testing their strength with a few gentle tugs, you’re left completely helpless to whatever your husband desires. Limp like a rag doll for his use. With the blindfold and the restraints, he’s got you at his mercy. It only drives you to act out more.

“Are you gonna spank me for being a bad girl, sir?” you goad, smile hidden in the sheets. A wiggle of your ass back into his hold to tease. You’re punished with another sting on the opposite thigh, then another and another. Each knots your stomach as you whine from the burn. The thought of the camera catching you, bent over, tied up, and covered in cum makes your insides warm with need. “That’s all you got?”

He answers with silence; a tense while he calculates. His hand squeezes across your heated skin, mindful of how much he gives you even when you challenge his authority like you weren’t asking for it.

The sound of ripping fabric fills your ears. Cool air rushes against the seat of your ass. You brace for another slap, prepared for it on the round of your ass. But Seungcheol likes to keep you on your toes.

The impact stings your clit, thighs trembling because it hurts in the best way. His fingers stay flat to roughly work you into weak submission. You barely register the cold lube dripping between your cheeks to ease Seungcheol’s fingers easing at your entrance.

“That's all you got?” he mocks. “I swear one of these days I’m gonna fuck your throat until you can’t talk back.”

Your breath hitches at he fucks you open with two fingers, an embarrassingly easy stretch. “Could do it right now.”

“I’ve got other plans.” He rubs your insides raw, the sick squelch ringing in your ears. A calculating curl forces a twitch into your legs. All your weak spots are his playthings, until your nails bite into the meat of your palm from how well he works them.

“Like?” Your breath hitches with the next rush of his fingers. Even more when he spits on your hole and rubs the stiffness of his dick into the mess just to be nasty.

“No point of the blindfold if I tell you everything anyway.”

“Seungcheol.” You shudder as he wedges a third finger inside.

He’s on his knees, chest hot against the back of your thighs, peppering soft kisses across your ass like he’s apologizing for the brand of his hand you’ll certainly feel tomorrow. You reposition to take him; legs spread, thighs stained with arousal from anticipation. Palms push against your legs to stretch further and give the camera a good view.

The tear in your underwear gives him plenty of room to work with but he’s also a show off, putting all the muscles he’s worked so hard for to use by ripping the remaining lace clean off with rough enthusiasm. They fall slack around your knees.

“Wish you could see how pretty your pussy looks spread around my fingers.”

“I will when I watch this while you're gone.”

“Gonna touch yourself to this? Seeing yourself get fucked?” His fingers hit that spot inside you. The one that punches air from your lungs and breaks you in half with limited coaxing.

“Yeah, might hu—shit—hump your pillow while I do it.”

Unlocking the cuffs, you sag in relief, straining muscles relaxing after being bound for so long. Seungcheol flips you on your back and locks them back in place over your stomach.

“Fuck yourself on my face then. Show me how much you want it and I’ll let you come.” He bites, tongue flattening in time with the return of his fingers. The camera must be somewhere else. Probably back on the chair at the side of the bed.

You do as he asks; feet planted on the bed as you curl into the pleasure, humping his face. A staccato lap of his tongue gets you started, wearing against the stiffness of your clit. You arch into it, unperturbed by the ache across your body. Seungcheol latches tight; sucking until your vision spots.

“Oh my god,” you hum; nerves fuzzy in your core from so much stimulation. He lets you grip a tight fist in his hair, keeping him still so you can ride his tongue.

“Come for me. All over my face like a good girl. That’s what you are right?” His fingers hit deeper. Gives you as much as you can possibly take. “My good girl?”

“I am, I–fuck, fuck. Yes, yes, yes!” Your orgasm rushes like a tsunami. It drowns you into utter silence, choked and shaking. You might fizzle away into nothing from the inside out. Seungcheol shoves your legs open to work you through it, dragging out every last inch until you kick at his stomach for a break. “Oh my god.”

“Good?” He smirks, chuckling when you jump at a cruel lick at your clit.

“Asshole,” you knee him in the side without much bite, focusing on catching your breath.

He sucks a bruise into your thigh because he can, pulling away to admire his work before speaking again. “Done or do you wanna keep going?”

“Want you to fuck me,” you sigh. The emptiness consumes your brain, making you impatient for what happens next.

He licks his way up your stomach, sucking a nipple between his teeth while the other grows sensitive between his fingers. “How?”

Drawn out from your previous orgasm, sink pliant into the cushion of the mattress. “However you want.”

“What if I wanna fuck you…right…here.” His thumb digs into your asshole, wet with spit and the obscene accumulation of your own arousal.

“Fuck, yes.” You nod pathetically. “Fuck my ass.”

The sick bastard laughs at your desperation like it's a cruel joke. “Not tonight. Maybe next time I’ll take a video of you taking my cock in your ass and one of your dildos in that tight little pussy. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“You can fuck my pussy with both right now.”

“You’d want that?” His teeth bruise your nipple, hand dipping between your legs with no regard for your sensitivity. “God, you’re nasty.”

“It'd be so hot,” you mumble. The jitters in your muscles haven’t faded yet you're already hungry for more.

He leaves a kiss on your sternum before standing, footsteps padding against the floor towards the dresser. If he has any sense he’ll grab the one that perfectly resembles his cock. What once was a dirty gift exchange gag gift, now his favorite toy to watch you get off with.

“You sure?”

He’s sweet. But you don’t want him to be nice; you want him to dangle your pleasure in front of you and snatch it away when you get too close. “I’m pretty sure your phone is running out of space, so get to work big boy.”

When he comes back the blindfold is ripped away. Sweat beads on his forehead, hair wild, and skin pinked. Cock wet with a sticky mix of fluids, heavy against his thigh. He’s sexy like this. Based on how crazed he looks, you can only imagine yourself. And now you have it all caught on video.

“Hold this.” He shoves the phone into your grasp. “Film yourself getting fucked.”

The dildo is soaked in more lube; obscenely so. Enough to ruin the sheets and maybe the mattress but it looks good on the screen as he works it inside you until the base is flush with your pelvis. On the brink of breaking apart from just a clone of his dick, he fucks you nice and slow with it. A tedious grind into the heat of your core. Insides tightening but still missing something.

“What’s wrong baby?” he grins, fingers wedging inside around the edges. If you’re planning to take two cocks, he’ll make sure you’re prepped. “Tapping out on me already? Haven’t even put my cock in and you’re already whining.”

“Feels good.” You grit your teeth at his cockiness. This is for his birthday and if he wants you to be a pathetic mess for him, you indulge. “Fuck me harder with it.”

“Yeah? Imagine how it’ll feel when I fuck you with both. Stuffed until you can’t take it.”

“Kiss me,” you whine. You need something to distract from the visual of being split on two cocks before you explode.

He does just that. A confusing mix of tender want compared to the vigor between your legs. Your hips grind on their own accord, tingling from his fingers torturing your clit in time.

“I love you,” Seungcheol sighs. “Fuck yourself on it. Show me how good you take it, yeah?”

You rock your hips into it the best you can, fumbling to keep his mouth firm against your own. A lazy rut but he won’t complain after all you’ve given him already.

The phone ends up back on the chair for now. Seungcheol doesn’t bother making sure either of you are in frame, trusting that whatever is getting caught will be hot enough even if it's just the sounds of fried vocal cords and the wet slap of skin on skin.

“Think you’re ready?”

“Mmm, give it to me. Let me feel your fat cock inside me.”

“You’re so needy.”

Your thighs begin to ache from being spread to accommodate him but it’s easily drowned out by the head of his cock breaching your entrance.

“Oh,” you gasp. It’s not something you’d ever be able to describe. A stretch bordering on pain but nothing more lube, Seungcheol’s patience, and some deep breathing can’t fix.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, just…really full. Wow.” You breathe, the pressure in your gut limiting everything to just this. It’s not an easy slide like the dildo, it’s more than you’ve ever felt. “Go slow, I can take it.”

He sinks deeper, another inch before stopping and pulling back out; restricted ruts making your teeth clench. You need a distraction. Something to keep your attention away from how uncomfortable it is. You want nothing more than to be stuffed as far as you can take it, but getting there might take a while.

And because your husband can always manage to read your mind, he flattens to your chest, mouth meeting your own in a dirty kiss that makes you blush more than the two cocks wedged inside you. “Feel good for you?”

“Tight.”

“I’m always tight,” you taunt.

“Tighter. Wet too, fuck,” he grunts. A kick of his hips you're woefully unprepared for knocks you out of orbit. “Look so pretty taking my cock like this. Stuffed so full. So fucking tight.”

A punch to the gut from how deep his voice sounds. Seungcheol is better at keeping up the facade of nonchalance than you but it’s betrayed in the detail: shaky hands, red ears, glazed eyes.

“God, you’re so big. Feel like you’re gonna tear me in half.”

“Really know how to treat a man, don’t you?” he laughs, pained. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Thinking about what you said earlier. Fucking my ass and my pussy at the same time.”

“You’d like that?” Seungcheol pants driving a little bit deeper.

“Yeah.” You melt in his hold. His cock in your ass is a special treat you like to indulge in whenever possible. “We can film that too.”

He fucks you with calculated grinds; slow until you beg him not to be. This is for you as much as it is for him and Seungcheol will only enjoy it if you are too, even if his cock is being squeezed to death.

“Is it in all the way?”

“Not even close, babe.” He coos, a sticky lube covered thumb brushing your cheek. “Relax.”

“Take two dicks inside you and see how well you relax.”

“I’m not the cock champ here, am I?”

“Just touch me. Please.” He skates that same hand between your legs, gentle circles on your nub while sinking deeper and deeper. Your stomach caves when he adds more pressure. “Fuck, right there.”

It’s the permission he needs to spread you prone, knees up to your chest to give you more. “Can you keep touching yourself for me? Play with that pretty little pussy for me?”

“Yes, sir.” You rub weak circles on your clit, range of motion limited from the handcuffs.

He abandons his grip on the silicon to twist your nipple. “Watch it.”

“Or what?”

“Say it again and I’ll make you ride this dildo while I fuck your mouth again.” He grunts, nudging your cervix to remind whose mercy you're under.

“But then you won’t get to see me take your hot load like a good girl.” You glow warmly with his choked expression.

“G-good—god—what kind of good girl talks about having her pussy filled?”

“The kind that wants you to spit in her mouth,” you beg.

“Then stick your tongue out.” He’s in a frenzy from how desperate you are. Thighs squeezing at the command, you do what he asks and are rewarded with the sick wet of his spit against the back of your throat.

You don’t get a chance to ask for another round. Seungcheol flips you on your front, face to face with the camera lens. Two of his fingers, the ones that taste like your cunt, hook into your mouth. Sucking them deep, you lap against them like their his cock; eager for the camera to catch the depraved need to be used that only he can inspire.

“Feels good?”

“So good,” you garble. “I love when you fuck me.”

“Yeah? Pussy was made for me, wasn’t it? All for me?” His voice jumps, cock twitching when you clench around him despite everything he’s giving you.

“All for you.”

“Gonna take my cum? Let me fill you up? That's what you want, don’t you? To be my pretty little cum dump?” He bites your ear lobe, fisting the hair at the crown of your head when you fall forward. “Look at the camera, baby.”

Wild jerks of his hips manage to force you to take him deeper, the head of his cock nestled further into your walls. All you can manage is a pathetic whine in answer to his questions. “Oh god, Seungcheol.”

He builds the pace, slow enough not to tear you in half but what he restrains in his rhythm he makes up for with harsh curls into the back of your throat. Each vein and ridge imprints into your core, more depravity.

You can feel it, from the tips of your toes to the crown of your skull; the ebb of another orgasm. Seungcheol sinks the full weight of his hips inside you, taking the chance to fuck you with the dildo instead.

The comforter greets your face, Seungcheol abandoning his grip on your hair to land another round of punishing swats on your ass. It takes everything in you to keep your head up, for you both to play back later and see how nasty you are for each other. You want your husband to know what you look like when he fucks you in half, how your eyes water and lip threatens to split under the clamp of your teeth.

“Gonna cum,” he groans. His chest seals against your back, pathetic ruts into your stinging ass. It barely lasts. A ploy to grab the camera again for a cumshot. You let your face drop into the mattress, arching for the best view he’ll ever get. “Gonna ruin this pussy.”

“Do it.”

He removes the dildo, focusing on how you still manage to cling to his cock after being full for so long. It frees his hand to curl under your hip and pinch your clit until you scream. “Want you to come again. Come on my cock and I’ll give you what you want.”

There’s no slow build. A sprint to the finish at the hands of your lover, you twitch in his hold, mind vacant except for what he asks. Nothing but the need to come on his cock. The wet echo of skin slapping as he fucks you harder now without the threat of breaking you.

“I’m—close, fuck. Fuck!” You cry. Wetting his cock, you flail against the bed because Seungcheol is a cruel bastard that drags you so thin when you’re weak. A few more harsh drags on your clit, stomach sinking in half, and he’s letting you go. It’s weaker than the first but enough for Seungcheol to give in.

“Gonna cum for you,” he hisses, shivering. You milk him for all he’s worth. Taking the warm flood along your insides that keeps coming, each thrust gushing excess around the base of his cock.

He pulls out and you nearly sob. It’s a vulnerable feeling to be empty after taking a beating to your pussy, one Seungcheol doeesn’t let you marinate in because he’s still filming. And that means playing with the mess of your cunt while giving the camera a front row seat. A few thrust of the dildo coated in a sheen of your insides and cum has him cursing like nothing hotter has ever existed. You feel open and used, messy. “Push it out for me.”

Whatever trickles out, he fucks right back in. The aftershocks of your second orgasm numb it all. Like you're underwater and Seungcheol is at the surface. Muffled.

“Oh my God, that was so…Holy shit.” He stops the recording and tosses his phone away. “You’re incredible.”

“If you’re trying to sweet talk me into another round, you need to do better.”

“I can’t come again if I tried.”

“Ouch,” you wince. “Hurtful.”

“Drama queen,” he laughs. The kisses up your spine make up for the dig.

You hum into the ticklish sensation. “You love it.”

“Of course I do, that’s why I married you.”

“And here I thought it was for my incredible cooking.” You slouch into the pillows, body finally sputtering to a halt. “I feel gross.”

“Happens when you're covered in cum and take two cocks. Give me ten minutes and we’ll take a bath. The maintenance guy fixed the jets today.”

“Oh, baby.”

You and Seungcheol fall asleep five minutes later, your face in the pillows and Seungcheol’s lips at your shoulder.

“I’m under the big sign that says ‘Buses.’ Wait, I think I see you.” Seungcheol’s voice rings through the speaker as you scan the crowd

“Stick your hand up. Okay, now wave it in the air. No, bigger. Make a ‘Y’—”

“You’re so annoying,” he barks as he opens the passenger door.

You ease back into traffic, his hand clasped in yours over the center console. “I didn’t know having some harmless fun is a crime.”

“It is when I’m tired and I missed you.”

“Aw, poor baby,” you coo sarcastically. “I missed you too.”

The drive home is peaceful. Seungcheol kept you updated during his trip and vice versa. Even getting in the door of the house is done in lazy silence, your husband refusing to let you go more than a few feet away before drawing you back into his hold.

Tucked under the covers with your head on his chest, you crack; unable to keep his final birthday surprise a secret any longer.

“You know, I have one more gift for your birthday.”

“Baby, I love you but I can’t stay awake to fuck you. I promise I will in the morning.”

“Not that you perv. It's in the closet.”

“It can’t wait until morning?” he pleads, snuggling down to hide under your chin.

“Nope.”

He gets up with a dramatic pout, shuffling to the closet for a gift wrapped boxed you’ve had hidden since his birthday. “What is it?”

“Open it.”

He shreds through the paper, tossing aside the lid. Each second has you worrying your lip. It’s something you talked about extensively; in hypotheticals not realities. When you’d be ready. It’s why you bought this house, why Seungcheol’s car has a high safety rating. Something you’d both been clear about wanting since the very beginning.

“Blueberries? You know we have a fridge to keep these in, right?”

“Fruit doesn’t belong in the fridge,” you shakily argue. “Now, read the note.”

“At seven weeks your baby is about the size of a blueberry. Baby Choi’s eyes, nose, mouth, and ears are starting to look more—” he trails off, jaw slack. “Baby Choi?”

You burn under his gaze, shy like the first time he said I love you all those years ago. “Surprise?”

“Are you serious?”

He drops the fruit when you nod, no doubt spilling the fruit everywhere in his haste to kiss you. It’s hard with both you beaming, cheeks round and burning. Kisses to your cheeks and chin and lips and nose like he can’t believe it’s a real thing.

“I’m serious. Next week it’ll be the size of a grape and have fingers.” You pat your belly gently, his own hand caught under yours and snaking beneath your pajamas. “Weird to think about.”

“Oh my god.” He flushes. “How did you…?”

“Had a feeling while you were gone,” you admit. “On your birthday actually.”

“Really?” He’s staring at your stomach. You aren’t showing but since you’ve found out you can’t stop looking in the mirror for a change. That’s probably what he’s doing right now. Looking for those signs of proof that will start coming sooner than later.

“Yeah, I took like five tests in the grocery store bathroom to be sure.”

He doesn’t speak for a while, regarding you with silent awe. His cheek rests flat against your belly. There's a squeeze of your hand while his eyes sink shut to settle into the news. “We’re gonna be parents.”

“Yeah,” you smile. “My boobs are supposed to start getting bigger soon.”

“I thought something was different.”

“Probably the lack of sleep from your big ass baby.”

“Our big ass baby,” He corrects. “Is it too early to start decorating the spare room?”

“It literally doesn’t even have a face right now.”

Seungcheol kisses your navel, lips moving across the skin. “Your mommy is so mean to me. I think you’d be beautiful even if you don’t have a face.”

A week of knowledge, the initial anxiety you’d bottled up in effort to make sure he’s the first person you told (not including your gyno) starts to spill out. “We can do this, right? You’re ready?”

His head pops up, eyes softening as he meets yours. “There is no one in the world I’d rather do this with.”

“Me either.”

“Best birthday present ever.”

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darkjimxn · 2 days

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Fool's Gold || JJK

Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.

Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader

Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. violence, blood, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses

“I heard that she’s a complete airhead.”

Jungkook’s expensive shoes smacked against the pristine white and gold marble floors as he continued to walk through the lavish hallway, hands disappearing behind his pockets while his steps were slow and confident. Most would think he was choosing to ignore the comment, but his closest friend knew better than to rush a man as calculating as Jungkook.

Instead, Taehyung strolled alongside him, taking in the glittering chandeliers looming over their heads and the intricate designs carved into the white walls that were much too traditional for his taste. Jungkook and Taehyung were nowhere near out of place in the sea of extravagance with their custom suits and shiny black dress shoes. Taehyung, the more simple of the two, had his brown hair parted and pushed back to reveal a blemish free forehead while his grey and black suit complimented the grey specks in his brown irises.

On the other hand, Jungkook’s black on black outfit adorned two expensive cufflinks and a gold brooch attached to his lapel. Taehyung’s gaze dropped to his black hair, which he noticed had grown in the past month.

When Taehyung realised that Jungkook wasn’t going to speak, he decided to fill the silence.

“Like apparently she’s huge on wearing pink and frilly stuff -which I guess is just a girl thing- but still, this is a mafia not a tea party.”

He paused, waiting for his comrade to offer his thoughts, but was met with silence once again.

“I’ve also heard she’s dumber than a pile of rocks. Barely passed high school and then dropped out of university not even a month in. Her major wasn’t even that hard. Commerce, was it?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed as Jungkook continued to lengthen the silence.

“And as you already must know, she was also married about a year ago but then was widowed after her husband was killed by a rival gang on the same day. Even though their marriage didn’t even last a full 24 hours, she had been so traumatised by the whole thing that apparently she didn’t even speak for an entire month after the ordeal. Can you imagine how much of a princess she must be for a simple death to shake her that much? She must be a real- come on man, how long are you going to make me go on?”

Jungkook turned his head to offer him a sly grin, “I was wondering when you would reach your limit.”

Taehyung gave him a halfhearted punch to the arm, “you’re such a jerk. Answer my question man. I’m dying to know what she’s actually like.”

He followed Jungkook as he turned into another hallway, curious as to what he thought of her, but his answer had him staring at Jungkook incredulously.

“I don’t know.”

Taehyung faltered in his step, gaping at the back of the man who continued through the hallway nonchalantly. When the weight of his answer finally processed completely in Taehyung’s mind, he ran forward so that he could walk alongside his friend once again.

“I think you misunderstood my question,” Taehyung tried again slowly, “I want to know about Lee Y/N, you know, your soon to be wife? The one you’re about to marry right now?”

“What is there to know?” Jungkook commented, mind occupied with a topic of much more importance, “a marriage with her will allow for the unification of two powerful mafia families and will also allow for an heir to be born. Is that not the whole point of marriages for individuals like us?”

“Well yeah, but there’s no harm in getting to know her at least a little bit. Did you even hear about the ‘dumb as rocks’ part when I was rambling?”

“That will only make her easier to control,” he deadpanned.

“Fine, whatever. Is she at least pretty?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened even more when Jungkook didn’t respond, “please tell me you’ve met her at least once. Oh my god, have you even looked at a picture of her?”

Jungkook's silence was all Taehyung needed to know that the answer was, in fact, no,” I knew I shouldn’t have gone out of the country! My parents kept telling me everything would be fine and they’d take care of the whole thing but you haven’t even met her once? I should’ve made my return flight earlier, then I could’ve-”

Taehyung’s voice faltered as he noticed Jungkook’s distant expression, causing his brows to furrow. He wasn’t listening to a word he was saying, which wasn’t something entirely out of the ordinary, but it usually wasn’t this bad. He sighed as he shifted his gaze to the expensive hall before him.

“Is this about the Parks?” He asked, noticing his friend’s focus return.

“It’s the Parks and the Mins,” Jungkook admitted, “ever since their alliance, they’ve been getting bold. They made a move on our West docks last week and would have been successful in seizing them if it weren’t for the blackmail I managed to procure at the last minute. But that won’t hold them off for long.”

Taehyung’s head tilted to the side, “you’ve always enjoyed a challenge. Why’s this bothering you so much?”

Jungkook turned into another hallway to finally come face to face with a large pair of grandiose double doors that towered over them. The two men came to a stop, aware that their conversation was now on a timer.

“I just… have an uneasy feeling,” he said, unable to reveal anymore to Taehyung. He couldn’t bring himself to tell his best friend what he had really witnessed when he visited the docks yesterday.

Taehyung, clueless to Jungkook’s inner turmoil, slapped him on the back, lightening the mood with a grin, “come on man, this is your wedding. You’ll figure everything out later, for now just relax. You deserve it.”

Before he could protest, Taehyung shoved the double doors open to reveal an enormous and crowded wedding hall. The white and gold marble floor stretched across the entire room, while multiple diamonds came together to form a giant chandelier that hung over the hundreds of tables that had been decorated with shiny silverware and pristine white roses. The people were just as decorated as the furniture, with their elegant gowns and glamorous jewellery.

At the sound of the doors opening, the once chattering crowd silenced, opting to sneak glances at Jungkook and his friend instead. Hushed whispers echoed around the hall as Jungkook straightened his back and held his head high before making his way to the centre of the room. Behind him, Taehyung took his place, his outgoing and extroverted personality tucked away to look just as regal and intimidating as the groom. The crowd began gathering on either side of the aisle, clearly excited for the bride who had been scheduled to appear any second now.

Most men’s hearts would be racing during a time like this, Jungkook thought distantly, eyes focused on the aisle as well. Marriage to others was supposed to symbolise unwavering love and devotion. But not for him. For him marriage was simply a contract, a means to an end that he hoped would lessen the burden of a number of challenges. In a world like this, there was no such thing as love.

Only power.

The sound of the double doors opening pulled him from his thoughts, with two professionally dressed workers fixing them on either side so that they remained open this time. Jungkook watched a pair of women in what seemed like light pink bridesmaid dresses trail behind two girls who couldn’t have been more than five throwing white and light pink flower petals in the air. Behind the entourage was a figure drenched in white.

You walked slowly into the room, your glimmering white dress trailing behind you as a thick white veil draped over your face and the front of your dress. Jungkook could only make out your hands clutching a small bouquet of white roses while your arm looped around your father’s, who was slowly guiding you down the aisle. Despite the aid, he couldn’t help but notice an uneasiness to your steps and a slight shake in your hands.

The crowd’s gaze stayed fixed on your figure, drinking in the Jeon Jungkook’s soon to be wife. There were some gasps of astonishment at the beauty of your dress and figure, while there were some gasps of jealousy towards the woman who was taking Jungkook off the market. You didn’t seem to pay them any attention as your head stayed fixed in front of you, focusing on not falling as you continued through the aisle.

To Jungkook, it felt like years had passed before you finally reached the small steps leading to the stage he was standing on, your bridesmaids taking their places on the opposite side of where Taehyung was standing. Your father unlooped his arm from yours and stepped back to sit on one of the seats that had been reserved for him, leaving you to hesitantly step onto the stage yourself. Your heel wobbled as you brought your foot forward and Jungkook knew exactly what would happen before it did.

He watched your heel slip sideways, causing you to careen to your right under the heaviness of your dress. But before you could crash into the large pots of white roses, Jungkook shot forward so that his hand could grab your waist, hoisting you up to prevent you from falling. The crowd swooned at the gesture, murmuring about its romantic nature, though all Jungkook could wonder was how you’ve been surviving in a mafia family for so long. Taehyung had only said you were dumb, not a complete klutz too.

He could feel the warmth of your delicate hand on his shoulder as he guided you up the steps, only letting go of you once the two of you were facing the patiently waiting priest. Once he had motioned for everyone to sit, he began his sermon in an obnoxiously boring voice. Jungkook had no particular interest in paying attention to a speech he had listened to multiple times growing up. Instead, he took the chance to survey you briefly. With your veil still hiding your face, he could only take in your perfect figure and pristine skin.

Eventually, the priest asked you to remove your veil, to which you complied slowly. Taehyung came forward, offering to take the bouquet in your hands while your bridesmaids helped you hesitantly lift the soft white cloth over your head.

A wave of hushed whispers spread throughout the crowd at the sight of your face, one that caught Jungkook off guard. Your eyes had been lined with a light liner, while your lips and cheeks had been made to look dainty. Your hair fell from the top of your head to your shoulders, styled in a way that framed your features and neck. Jungkook noticed a small silver necklace in the shape of a heart resting against your exposed collarbone.

Your makeup made you look so innocent and… young. Jungkook almost wanted to pull Taehyung’s parents aside and confirm that you really were twenty three and not some nineteen year old. It was a bit of a turn off, he realised, slightly bothered by the fact. As a twenty six year old, he obviously wasn’t into teenagers, so he didn’t know what having a wife that looked like one was going to do for him.

Then again, he wasn’t marrying you for some kind of gratification. He was marrying you because he needed to form a strong alliance between your father’s gang and his so that he could be, or at the very least appear, stronger than the Mins and Parks. You were nothing more than a path to more power and, aside from upholding his responsibilities as a husband, he would treat you as such.

As the priest continued to drone on, Jungkook continued to analyse your form. He watched your eyes stay focused on the priest before they strayed, hesitantly landing on Jungkook for a split second. When you noticed his gaze already on you, a small squeak sounded from your lips before you quickly shifted your focus forward. With the bouquet of flowers now hanging from Taehyung’s hand, your own fingers were clasped awkwardly in front of you.

You were apparently everything Taehyung had painted you as earlier, Jungkook thought. Your makeup and mannerisms had an air of exaggerated innocence, while your body language was shy and sheepish. He had no problem imagining you as a weak girl that was so traumatised by the death of your first husband that you couldn’t utter a single word the following month.

The priest turned to the seated crowd, beckoning anyone that had an issue with the marriage to step forward and speak their mind. Just as Jungkook expected, no one dared make a stand, preferring to cherish the connection between their head and neck instead. Following the silence, you and Jungkook were made to stand facing each other.

Your gaze was fixed on his collar, seemingly too shy to meet Jungkook’s eyes. It only confirmed his suspicions regarding your confidence, or lack thereof.

Yet, despite your evidently timid nature and lack of intelligence, Jungkook couldn’t help but experience an uncanny feeling lingering at the back of his mind. Perhaps it was his untrusting nature, or maybe he had just been forced to over analyse you during the long and boring sermon. But he could have sworn that there was something about you. Just… something about the way you had trouble meeting his gaze yet seemed to have no problem in scanning Taehyung up and down. For a fraction of a moment, the look in your eyes was almost calculated, as if you had been assessing him. But just as fast as Jungkook thought he saw it, the look disappeared, replaced by a timid and shy gaze once again. It left him questioning whether he had even seen it in the first place, or whether he was letting paranoia see things that weren’t there.

Finally, the priest turned to the two of you and made you both say your vows outloud. They were the standard vows, Jungkook and you putting no effort in creating a confession that you both knew was ingenuine. Instead, the two of you repeated after him, answering “I do” when the time was right. Jungkook was glad that, despite your seemingly ditzy nature, you hadn’t requested any giant romantic gestures. According to your father, you had even had no problem with Jungkook requesting that there be no kiss at the altar. It made his life a lot easier and truthfully made this entire situation a lot less awkward.

To Jungkook’s relief, the priest finally addressed the crowd once more, ending the sermon on a final note filled with hope and prosperity. He spoke about how the marriage would strengthen the two mafias, mitigating worries relating to attacks from enemies that may wish to harm them. Jungkook had already expected this part of the speech, as he had been the one to tell the priest to say those exact words.

At the end of the sermon, Jungkook and you were made to walk down the aisle back to where he knew his expensive car was waiting. He turned to you, looping his arm around yours so that you wouldn’t fall again, and guided you down the steps slowly. He noticed that your every step was still wobbly and he could feel your hand shaking as you placed it on his bicep to steady yourself further. But this time, with the veil now draped behind you, he could see the distress in your face as well. Your eyes were wide as you took in the crowd surrounding you, looking as naive as Taehyung had made you out to be.

Jungkook tried to remind himself of Taehyung’s words. About how you had barely been able to pass high school and then completely dropped out of university a month in. About how your style consisted of pink and frilly clothes that didn’t have much place in the mafia. About how, at this moment, you seemed almost scared of the crowd and attention.

A girl like that was shy and naive and ditzy. Aside from being slightly irritating, that meant you couldn’t be much of a threat to him or anyone else. If anything your incompetence would be a threat to your own self. Jungkook had nothing to worry about when it came to you.

So he tried not to be unsettled.

He tried not to be unsettled by the fact that, despite your apparently innocent and weak nature, your fingers were gripping into his bicep so hard he would no doubt wake up with a bruise tomorrow morning.

He tried not to be unsettled by the way your shy gaze, which stayed fixed on the floor, would sometimes stray upwards to almost study the crowd around you before quickly darting back to the ground.

He tried not to be unsettled when you looked up at him to give him a bashful smile, one that the logical part of him agreed looked sweet and innocent enough.

Yet, why did another part of him wonder whether there had been something else lurking behind those seemingly innocent eyes?

The only thing that Jungkook had learned about you from the car ride was that your voice was as light and soft as your appearance.

The ride in his black car decorated with gleaming small white roses and ribbons had been mostly silent, the two of you making no effort to start a conversation. Jungkook had never been one for small talk, more than content to let Taehyung talk for hours instead. The reason for your lack of conversation, though, was unknown to him.

It was only when he was speeding through the highway that you had spoken to request that he slow down a bit. Your voice had been soft and timid, as if you were scared that Jungkook would lash out at you for the simple request. Or maybe that was just the way you spoke. Considering your personality, Jungkook wouldn’t find that too hard to believe.

Now the two of you walked through the entrance of his home, your eyes taking in the grandeur of it all. Despite its vastness, Jungkook felt that this was where he felt the most comfortable: between the white and fawn walls, the elaborately designed bannisters, and the creme marble floors. His home had remained the only constant in his life and, because of that, he cherished it immensely.

There were only a few people that Jungkook had allowed inside, all of whom were people that he trusted with his life. This was the first time, he realised, that someone outside of those few was stepping foot onto the marble floor and laying their eyes on the spiralling staircase. It was an odd feeling, allowing you to enter into what he felt was the only place that truly allowed his mind and body to relax.

He observed your reaction curiously, taking in your wide eyes. They bounced from one thing to the next, each structure seeming to fascinate you more and more. He still couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were assessing the space, but the logical part of him kept trying to reassure himself that you couldn’t possibly be considered any kind of threat.

The sound of the door opening behind him pulled him from his thoughts. He turned around to find Taehyung walking through the doorway, a particular look on his face. Jungkook recognised it right away, causing him to turn to you for a moment while calling over one of the maids.

“Get her to the bedroom,” Jungkook commanded the maid as Taehyung stepped beside him, “and help her take off her makeup and dress into something comfortable.”

The maid nodded before she began to guide you up the flight of stairs, pointing out a few directions here and there to get you comfortable with the new environment. Jungkook watched you look back at him and Taehyung for a split second, an unreadable look in your eyes, before you faced forward once again and allowed yourself to be dragged away wordlessly.

Once you had disappeared up the stairs, Jungkook turned to Taehyung with a raised eyebrow.

“Well?” He prodded.

Taehyung glanced at the top of the stairs to make sure you really were gone, “I should be asking you that. What do you think of her?”

Jungkook mulled over his question for a moment, “she seems to be everything you said she is. Although, are you sure-”

“She is one hundred percent twenty three years old. I triple checked that one,” Taehyung said immediately, hands up in a gesture of surrender.

Jungkook let his hands nestle into his pockets, wondering if he should bring up his other concerns as well. Uptil now, you haven’t actually done or said anything worth garnering suspicion. Jungkook just seemed to be picking up on small things here and there, but he wasn’t sure if those things were just him being paranoid or genuinely things that he should be cautious over. This whole marriage thing was proving to be a lot more confusing than he had initially thought.

“What is it?” Taehyung asked, noticing his friend’s silence. Jungkook hesitated for a moment, but, after earning a questioning look from Taehyung, he relented slightly.

“How well of a background check did your parents do on her?” Jungkook asked cautiously. He didn’t want Taehyung to know too much of how he was feeling at the moment, in case this was just his mind being overactive, but something in Taehyung’s expression seemed to indicate that he knew a lot more than what Jungkook was letting on.

“They did a very thorough one, of course,” Taehyung said, eyeing Jungkook knowingly, “you know my parents. If there’s one thing that they’re the best at, it’s uncovering people’s secrets.”

Then he added with a smile, “couldn’t get away with much while growing up because of it.”

Jungkook let his gaze wander around the room, “I just…”

“You’re just suspicious of her,” Taehyung finished, causing Jungkook to look his way, “of course you’re suspicious Jungkook, you’re letting a girl that you’ve never even met before into your house for the first time. It’s a natural reaction, especially considering how untrusting we’ve been conditioned to be since we were young.”

Taehyung clapped Jungkook on the back reassuringly, “I was the exact same way when I married Chaewon. Hell, in our first year of being married I even accused her of being a traitor when she was planning a surprise party for my birthday. When she finally told me… man, it took me a whole year to make it up to her. On another note, from a married man to a newly married man, don’t accuse your wife of anything unless you’re a hundred and ten percent sure of it. Otherwise you’ll never hear the end of it.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, causing Taehyung to laugh.

“Besides, have you seen Y/N? She’s so shy and naive, her own reflection in the mirror must frighten her. I doubt you have anything to worry about, especially after my parents’ background check. Just enjoy yourself, man, it’s your wedding night,” Taehyung said with a knowing smirk.

Obviously ignoring the suggestive comment, Jungkook nodded, finding logic in Taehyung’s other words. Jungkook had never been married, all of this was new to him. But if Taehyung, who had been married for almost a decade, said feelings like this were normal, then maybe he really was just being overly paranoid about the situation. You’d had a thorough background check done, which revealed nothing, and your personality was quite clear to Jungkook after he’d observed you at the wedding.

It was time Jungkook started trying to enjoy this marriage as much as he could. He was going to be stuck with you indefinitely, and constantly being suspicious of you was only going to wear him out, especially since you now had access to the only place he allowed himself to be free of the constantly vigilant and calculating mind that came with being the leader of the Jeons.

Jungkook turned to Taehyung, about to thank him for the insight, but the sound of the door opening once again caused the two to shift their gaze to behind them. The sight of the man walking through the doorway immediately had Jungkook wrinkling his nose in distaste while Taehyung’s expression had become a distant neutral. The man didn’t seem to mind the reactions if he noticed them, casually strolling deeper into the house until he was standing before the two.

“Jungkook, Taehyung,” Daehyun nodded, the respectful gesture somehow seeming more disrespectful if anything. He had clearly just come back from the wedding, still wearing his black suit and light brown hair styled back, “you just got married, yet I see only Taehyung and no bride. Shall I assume the two of you are running away together?”

The tasteless joke was followed by a deep laugh, one that belonged to neither Jungkook nor Taehyung. Instead they just stared at him with an unamused scowl.

“Relax, it’s only a joke,” he shook his head, gaze wandering the place casually, “I doubt your wife and kid would like the thought of that anyway.”

Taehyung’s jaw ticked at Daehyun’s words. Even if he hadn’t directly threatened or disrespected them in any way, just the mention of his family from his mouth was enough for Taehyung’s gaze to turn icy.

“Careful Daehyun, you’re standing before two mafia leaders,” Taehyung said, voice low and intimidating, “I would be less casual in our presence if I were you.”

To Taehyung and Jungkook’s dismay, Daehyun simply chuckled, “ah yes, but Jungkook and I are cousins. He’ll cut me some slack, won’t he?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, even after Daehyun gave his arm a lighthearted punch. Daehyun was the cousin that Jungkook could never be rid of, no matter how badly he wanted to. He was slimy and tactless and everything Jungkook hated rolled into one unbearable being. Having to give him access to his home, his only place of peace, had been one of the hardest things to do. But at the time, Jungkook had had to make sacrifices and this had been one of them.

Daehyun, undeterred by his cousin’s lack of response, leaned his arm on Jungkook’s shoulder casually, “congratulations by the way. When I saw your wife’s face- god did she look young! You’re so lucky man, I hope my future wife turns out like that.”

Jungkook grimaced as he suddenly felt the desire to wipe off any remnants of Daehyun’s touch from his suit. Daehyun had attended the same university as Taehyung and Jungkook, yet he had evidently obtained none of the class that they had. Everyday he wondered how the two of them could possibly be related. For the sake of Jungkook’s mental wellbeing, sometimes he liked to imagine Daehyun had actually been adopted and his parents had simply decided not to share that piece of information.

“I should get going,” Jungkook said stiffly, brushing his cousin’s arm off his shoulder. He fixed his suit as Daehyung smirked at him, likely thinking of Jungkook’s comment as more suggestive than he had actually meant.

Jungkook faced Taehyung to give him a curt nod before he turned and began walking up the stairs, not bothering to use the fawn iron bannisters on either side of him. He could hear Taehyung taking his leave through the front door, dragging a complaining Daehyun behind him to Jungkook’s satisfaction. The sound of the front door shutting had never sounded so delightful.

A silence ensued as Jungkook walked through the hallway upstairs, continuing until he paused in front of his bedroom’s door. He couldn’t hear any noises coming from inside the room, so, with a light knock against the white and fawn wood, his hand wrapped around the handle to turn it and finally push the door open.

The windows displayed an almost set sun, coating the atmosphere in a blanket of dimness. Everything about his bedroom had been changed. His once dark brown and white bed had been switched out for a cream and fawn coloured one, with a bouquet of vibrant red roses sitting atop the fancy and plush duvet, while his black leather couches had been replaced by light cloth ones. The ceiling and walls had been painted white, complimenting the new white and fawn patterned marble floor. His old dresser had also disappeared, a cream coloured dresser twice its size sitting in its place instead.

Aside from the drastic changes that had been made to his bedroom, no doubt to signify the change that came with marriage, the first thing Jungkook noticed was the maid who was drawing the curtains closed. The room would have fallen into complete darkness if it weren’t for the lamps sitting atop the bedside tables which were emanating a warm light around the space.

The second thing he noticed was you, who was sitting timidly on the edge of the bed and facing him. Your fingers were playing awkwardly in front of you while your gaze had been fixed on the floor, but at the sound of the door opening, your head raised to look at Jungkook. The sight of your face once again caught him off guard, the lack of makeup revealing a different side of you.

You no longer looked young. Without the innocent look that had been created with the blushes and the eyeliners and the lip glosses, Jungkook could see the mature shape of your eyes and the defined look of your features. You looked your age now, a lot more maturity prominent in your appearance.

You were pretty. Jungkook could admit that much now that you didn’t resemble a teenager. He wondered why you had done your makeup like that in the first place. He’d been to many weddings before and none of the brides had been made to look so young. Then again, Taehyung had already told him that, on top of looking innocent and naive, you seemed to dress the part as well.

“Is something wrong?” Your soft voice asked, eyes blinking innocently up at him.

Jungkook shook his head, motioning for the maid to leave the room. She gave you both a low bow before scurrying out the doorway, making sure to close the door behind her.

“No,” he finally answered. For the first time in a long time he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He wasn’t sure if you were expecting anything to happen tonight, or if you even wanted anything to happen for now.

His gaze lowered as he mulled over his next actions. You had changed out of your wedding dress into a light pink, mesh lace nightgown that came all the way down to your knees with a silk bow stitched into the centre of your chest, as if your clothes were meant to compensate for the lack of makeup dolling up your features. He almost wanted to raise an eyebrow at you, but you seemed much too fragile to be ridiculed.

Alternatively, he decided to take an experimental step in your direction, surveying your reaction closely. He watched your fingers close tighter around the duvet on which you sat, your gaze hesitantly darting everywhere but him. That was answer enough for him to know how far you were ready to take it tonight. So instead, he passed the bed, opting instead to drop onto the couch on the far end of the room. While he was facing you, you had to turn your head to keep him in your sights.

“What would you like to do now?” He asked you, resting an arm over the back of the couch while he crossed an ankle over his knee.

Your gaze dropped to your lap, watching your fingers fidget against each other nervously. It was almost as if having to answer a question like that had you stressed, which again made Jungkook wonder how you had survived growing up in a mafia family. How could you have been this weak?

“I-I don’t know,” you squeaked, not able to meet his gaze.

Jungkook sighed, turning his head to the side to survey the room. Technically, the two of you could just call it a night and go to sleep. You were clearly too shy to even speak a word to him, and Jungkook had never been one to beg others for things. Only time would tell how well the two of you would get to know each other.

But then Jungkook’s gaze dropped to the coffee table in front of him, noticing some sort of gift basket placed in its centre. It was obviously a wedding gift, filled with chocolates, scented candles, roses… and some wine and champagne. Jungkook has always been more of a whiskey guy, but right now he’d take just about anything.

“Why don’t we have a drink?” He suggested, uncrossing his leg so that he could lean forward and grab the top of the expensive-looking bottle of red wine. He prayed you weren’t one of those people that didn’t drink, your innocent personality couldn’t possibly extend all the way to drinking as well.

You paused for a moment, taking in the bottle in Jungkook’s hand, before slowly nodding your head, to Jungkook’s relief.

He beckoned you over with his free hand, “come here.”

You hesitated before slowly pushing yourself off the bed and took small steps towards him. Jungkook waited patiently until you were standing right in front of the couch, hands clasped shyly in front of you while your gaze stayed glued to the floor. He held up the bottle of wine and champagne in front of you, hoping you weren’t so dumb that you wouldn’t understand the question in his actions. Thankfully you studied the two bottles before a shaky hand raised and tapped against the bottle of champagne.

He pushed the bottle in your direction, forcing you to take it in your own hands, before standing up from the couch. The unexpected action seemed to scare you, causing you to immediately take a timid step backwards while you hugged the bottle to your chest. Jungkook had to suppress a tired, and maybe even slightly annoyed sigh, as he manoeuvred past you. He was trying to be patient, but this was becoming ridiculous.

“You get that open while I wash up,” he said to you, pointing at the bottle still pressed to your chest, “okay?”

You nodded slowly, allowing him to turn away from you and walk into the joint bathroom. Once the door was closed behind him he let out the sigh he had suppressed earlier. You really were… something. He couldn’t believe he had been suspicious of you earlier when you could barely even function properly, much less be any sort of threat. It was irritating, Jungkook felt, to have someone so incompetent for a wife. He wondered if he would have to break you out of that shell. You were the wife of a mafia leader now after all, you had to keep up at least some air of confidence in the presence of others so that you didn’t make him look weak.

Jungkook walked over to the sink and turned it on, splashing some cold water on his face before he began brushing his teeth. You were far from his ideal type, and he doubted this marriage would ever stem into whatever Taehyung and Chaewon had going on. Hell, he was wondering how the two of you could ever even produce an heir. You’d probably spontaneously combust if he even tried to touch you. And besides, he didn’t really want to touch you if he was being honest. You reminded him too much of a weak and helpless child, which was obviously a huge turn off. He may have been a mafia leader, but he wasn’t a complete monster.

Jungkook placed his toothbrush into the holder after spitting into the sink, drying himself off with one of the towels hanging near him. He was about to start changing into more comfortable clothes, only getting as far as unbuttoning the first few buttons of his black collar shirt, before a crashing sound rang from the bedroom. In less than a second he had pushed out of the bathroom, immediately scanning the bedroom before him as his hand automatically sought out the gun at his side.

It took him a moment to realise the lack of intruders in the room, and then another to take in your completely unharmed form. You were standing with your hands covering your mouth, looking down at the ground. Jungkook followed your gaze to find the champagne bottle rolling along the marble floor, still entirely intact. You had clearly dropped the thing accidentally, causing Jungkook to place his gun back in his waistband.

“I’m s-so sorry,” you squeaked, bending down quickly to pick up the bottle. Suppressing a huff, Jungkook walked over to you to take it from your hands.

“Here, let me do it,” he said, taking two of the crystal champagne flutes from the gift basket and placing them on the glass coffee table as he sat himself down on the couch, distantly annoyed at the fact that you couldn’t even pour a glass of champagne by yourself. Was this seriously what he was going to have to deal with from now on?

He tipped the bottle, filling both glasses to the brim with the bubbling liquid as you hesitantly sat yourself down on the couch to his left. His gaze fell on you as he was about to offer you one of the flutes, but paused when he noticed the look on your face. For the first time since he met you, you looked almost… excited. Usually your eyes would be downturned and focused on the floor, but this time they were fixed on the crystal glasses before you as if you were eager to taste the expensive liquid. Jungkook made a note of it, tucking it into the back of his mind for later.

“Take one,” he said as he motioned towards one of the glasses, but to his surprise you hesitantly shook your head. Your expression had turned timid once again, any hint of excitement from earlier entirely gone. He narrowed his eyes at you as he wondered if he had just imagined it. It had barely been there anyway.

“I don’t drink,” you said in your signature soft tone, not able to meet his gaze. Of course you don’t, Jungkook thought irritatedly, god forbid the princess touch a glass of champagne. He knew the thought was immature, but there was no way he was the most immature person in the room at the moment.

He pushed himself off the couch, very much aware that his patience was starting to wear thin, “well then I guess we should call it a night.”

But before he could step towards the bed, your hand shot out, clutching the edge of his sleeve with your fingers. He immediately looked down at your still seated form, a question in his eyes. You had to look away for a moment, seemingly collecting your nerves, before you met his gaze once again.

“Just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean you can’t,” you said, “I don’t want you not to enjoy yourself because of me. Please stay.”

Jungkook noticed the evident guilt in your eyes as your fingers continued to stay enclosed around the edge of his sleeve. When he didn’t move, you hesitantly leaned forward to gently pick up one of the glasses and then slowly presented it to him. His gaze shifted to the glass in your hand, pausing for only a moment, before he took it from you. He let himself sink back onto the couch as he studied you.

You continued to sit in your spot on the sofa, posture still timid. Your gaze bounced from one part of the floor to the next, while your expression remained shy. But there was something else lurking behind the expression. If Jungkook focused well enough, he could have sworn the edges of your lips were turned slightly upwards. It was so faint that it might have not even been there, but the more he focused, the more prominent it became to him.

A naive part of him might have thought it was from being successful in getting him to stay and have the drink, but the more logical part of him had already latched onto an idea, one that refused to be swept to the side any longer.

His gaze lowered to your collarbone, a glint from the heart-shaped necklace resting over your soft skin catching his attention. Unlike earlier, he noticed that the metal heart was actually a locket, and that its two sides were slightly open. It couldn’t have been ajar by more than a millimetre, but Jungkook still noted it down in his mind.

His gaze then ascended to your face, still a perfect picture of innocence. Your eyes were widened to resemble a curious doe, while your lips were pulled into a timid line. The hands resting in your lap fumbled with each other shyly, really completing the look.

Finally, his gaze dropped to the drink in his hand. He brought it closer to his face, as if he were about to take a sip, before eyeing the expensive liquid. His gaze fixed on the miniscule bubbles that continued travelled from the bottom of the flute to its surface, causing it to sizzle.

Jungkook slowly leaned forward, keeping his eye on his drink as he brought it away from his lips and instead calmly set it down on the coffee table before him. He then easily pushed himself off of the couch, which caused your brows to jump. There was an apparent question in your expression, one you decided to voice out loud.

“Is something wrong with the drink?” You asked, voice still soft as your doe eyes looked up at him through your lashes.

Ignoring the question, Jungkook placed a hand on the edge of the coffee table and slowly pushed it forward so that it was farther away from your seated form. The action caused you to blink.

“Is everything okay?” You tried again slowly.

But Jungkook then faced you, assessing you for a moment, before he took a few steps in your direction. You had to crane your neck upwards to continue meeting his gaze, his tall form towering over your seated one. This time your brows pulled together, eyes still doe-like, as you continued to question his actions.

“Jungko-”

Jungkook didn’t let you finish. The second you opened your mouth his large hand suddenly shot out and grabbed your neck, slamming your head into the seat of the couch. You squeaked at the sudden violence, immediately clawing at the fingers now enclosed around your throat. But your efforts were nothing in comparison to Jungkook’s iron hold.

“J-Jungkook, you’re h-hurting me!” You let out a choked cry, continuing to put up a weak fight against Jungkook. Tears had already started to coat your eyes and run down your cheeks, but Jungkook ignored them completely. He watched you struggle, fascinated by the way you thrashed around like an animal yet every jab at him was weak and ineffective. There was no sign of the strength he had noticed when you had grabbed onto his bicep earlier, so hard that he was sure it would leave a bruise. It was enough to make him grin.

Jungkook lowered his face so that his lips neared your ear, his body still hovering over your smaller form.

“If you wanted to kill me princess, you’ll have to do a better job than that,” he said, voice low. Your eyes widened even further as you continued to struggle against him, making pitiful noises that didn’t move him in the slightest.

“K-Kill?! What are y-you talking about?!” You continued to choke out as tears streamed down your cheeks. Your hands had moved to his chest, desperately trying to push him away, yet failing miserably in the process. Jungkook tilted his head at your weak plea, eager to hear what other ways you’d beg him to let you go.

“P-please-” You began, but then cut yourself off abruptly when your tear-filled gaze met his. You must have seen something in his eyes, because he felt your body slacken, no longer desperate to fight him despite his hold on your neck cutting off your lung’s supply of air.

Instead you studied him, really studied him. He could see the same calculated look you had used on Taehyung earlier during the wedding. It was as if you were assessing Jungkook, picking out his strengths and weaknesses to figure out how you could use them to your advantage. He watched you weigh options in your head patiently before you finally tilted your head to the side calmly and shot him a look. In response, Jungkook decided to loosen his grip on your throat. He watched you catch your breath for a moment before you spoke.

“Well, you’re already smarter than the first one,” you commented, but your voice was entirely different. It was no longer soft and timid, rather it was a lot more deep and confident. He watched your expression change in the same manner. Your once wide and innocent looking eyes narrowed into a more matured look, while your lips straightened into more of a dangerously amused grin than a naive pout.

Then he processed your words. The ‘first one’ had to be your first husband, who Taehyung had explained had been killed on his wedding day. Taehyung had mentioned that a rival gang had been the one to murder him, but the actual one responsible for his death was clear to Jungkook now.

“Do you make it a hobby to poison your husbands’ drinks on their wedding nights?” He asked, hand still wrapped around your throat. He had situated himself between your legs, his own leg pushing one of yours against the back of the couch while his free hand pushed the other down against the seat of the couch. The position ensured you wouldn’t be able to kick him, while his body hovering over your own seemed to take care of the rest of you. You were smart enough not to try anything anyway, knowing Jungkook’s strength was incomparable to yours.

You shrugged, panting at the limited oxygen entering your lungs, “golf just wasn’t cutting it for me anymore.”

“Golf? How can a weak and helpless girl like you play such a sport?” Jungkook couldn’t help but quip, bordering on mocking you. It only made you grin, clearly no hint of offence in your expression.

He studied your nonchalant demeanour curiously. You had tried to kill him, and he should send your head back to your father’s doorstep for it. And yet, you couldn’t have looked any less composed with his hand around your neck. Either you were a complete idiot, which seemed much less likely now that he was starting to see your real character, or you believed you had the upper hand in this situation.

“You’re quite calm for someone I should have killed,” he noted, meaning for it to be a threat. But once again you didn’t seem deterred. In fact, the comment seemed to amuse you even more.

“Just because you should have me killed doesn’t mean you’ll actually have me killed.”

Jungkook’s brow raised, finding an opportunity to prod you further, “and why won’t I have you killed? Your father sent you here to kill me under the pretence of an alliance. I should start a war for this.”

You nodded, “but you see, my father did send me here to form an alliance. The whole killing you idea was all mine.”

Jungkook scoffed at the lame attempt at a lie, “you expect me to believe that?”

But you scoffed as well, meeting his gaze just as vehemently. It was an odd sight considering you had spent the entire day trying to make yourself small and avoiding his gaze. Yet here you were now, eyes ablaze like a thrashing fire. Not a spontaneously violent fire either, no Jungkook could very easily handle that. You were more like an electrical fire. It was becoming increasingly apparent that he had to be cautious around you, and that trusting any word that came out of your mouth was dangerous.

“Prove it then,” he challenged, tightening his hold on your neck for a moment to remind you of your vulnerability.

“I don’t need to prove anything,” you said, a hand coming up to wrap around his wrist, “just go ahead and mention to my father that I’m not a complete airhead that’s afraid of her own shadow. He’ll laugh in your face and call you a moron.”

The revelation that your father was just as clueless about your true self as everyone else only confirmed his initial thoughts. It also proved he couldn’t have trusted you to carry out an assassination attempt, meaning your father really did genuinely want an alliance with the Jeons. That was perfect, because Jungkook had certain plans that relied on this partnership. It was a relief that they hadn’t gone to waste.

“If it wasn’t your father’s idea, then why did you poison my drink?” He asked with a raised brow.

Silence filled the room following his question, one that allowed you both to hear the sounds of the wall clock. He got the feeling that you were contemplating something once again, planning out your next move.

Then you squirmed underneath him, seemingly getting comfortable, but Jungkook knew better than to believe whatever you appeared as. The second your hand went for the gun wedged in his waistband, he grabbed your wrist, pining it against the couch, while the hand that had been around your throat pulled out the matte black weapon. He slowly brought it to your temple with an amused grin.

“If you wanted it so badly, you could have just asked,” he taunted, bringing the gun down so that its barrel lifted your chin, “now, I asked a question princess.”

You huffed, your amusement finally falling to give him a half-hearted glare.

“I want a divorce.”

Jungkook couldn’t help the laugh that sounded from his lips at your straightforwardness. You just tried to kill him, it didn’t take a genius to work out that you weren’t a fan of this marriage and wanted out of it.

It was an arranged marriage after all, and even though all arranged marriages didn’t equal a forced marriage, technically he couldn’t be certain that this marriage was of your own choice or not. For all he knew, you had some secret lover waiting for you back home, your marriage with Jungkook coming between the star crossed romance. The thought made his jaw tick. He was far from in love with you, but Jungkook tended to be territorial about what was his. And you were his wife at the moment.

You, on the other hand, seemed surprised by his reaction, as if it was the last thing you expected him to do.

“I mean you obviously want one now too, right?” You asked with your brows furrowed.

Jungkook didn’t respond, and that only seemed to make you more agitated.

“I’m not the wife that you want. You clearly can’t stand me when I have my ditzy front pulled up and you can’t trust me when I don’t.”

Although the points that you were making were true, there was one important factor you were missing, and that was the alliance between the Jeons and the Lees. Jungkook needed this alliance to, at the very least make himself seem like, he was more powerful than the Parks and the Mins. And with their recent moves -with what he saw at the docks just last night- he needed this alliance now more than ever. So while he normally would have had you executed and then sent your head to your father’s doorstep for your little assassination attempt, this time he was going to have to sweep his pride to the side.

Jungkook placed his free hand next to your head as he pushed himself up, choosing instead to stay standing in front of the sofa. His intense gaze dropped to your still form while his gun hung from his fingers firmly.

“No,” he finally said, causing your brows to jump.

You quickly pushed yourself off the couch to stand just as he was, but Jungkook didn’t move. With the sofa right behind you, barring you from taking a few steps back, that left you and him standing dangerously close to each other. The bow from your nightgown pressed against his partly unbuttoned black collar shirt, while its edge grazed his dress pants. Jungkook could feel the heat of your breath raise goosebumps from his exposed collarbone.

“Why not? I’m not the wife that you want.”

He smiled at the bite in your words, finding your frustration amusing, “you’ve got it all wrong. I simply wanted a wife to make the Lees allies, nothing more.”

Like a fire set alight, your eyes flashed in anger, “I won’t change. I’ll still be your idiot wife that will make you look weak.”

It was true that most wives of mafia leaders were strong and confident beings, symbols of their husbands’ power, and that having a wife like you may be a slightly risky choice. But Jungkook was sure his carefully established reputation could take the hit. Besides, although you might make him look weak, your marriage with him would make him far from actually weak.

“You think divorcing you won’t make me look weak?” Jungkook decided to say, unsure of if he was saying it to play with you more or to make sure you don’t believe your threats are inconveniencing him, “you’ve fooled everyone with your ditzy facade. A divorce will make them think I wasn’t able to tame a naive girl. You think people will accept me as a leader then?”

You didn’t react to the point, giving him the feeling that you might have already known that might pose an issue for him. Perhaps you thought his reputation could take the hit? When Jungkook really thought about it, it probably could have. He’d worked hard to be both feared and respected for years, a divorce like this, while questionable in the eyes of the people under him, could have been pushed under the rug given time. But the alliance was too important to him.

And that was something he needed to make sure you knew.

“That means you will continue to be my wife,” he settled, lowering his gaze so that it met yours with unwavering finality, “so you’ll continue to act like it.”

Jungkook felt his voice naturally lower, a hint of a threat evident in his tone, “listen to me well, Y/N. I don’t care if you act like the dumbest woman on Earth or the most sultry. Regardless, what you will act like is my wife. When we’re outside of this bedroom, we will laugh together, we will hug each other, and we will do whatever other damn thing married couples do so that no one doubts this relationship.”

“And if I don’t?” You bit, the speed of your reply making his jaw tick.

“If you don’t, you can stay locked in this bedroom until you learn how to behave. Understood?”

Your rage couldn’t have been more prominent, with a fierce glare burning right through him and a pair of fisted hands at your sides. Yet Jungkook ignored it all, instead meeting your gaze coolly as he waited for your confirmation.

It took a long moment to come, so long that Jungkook thought it wasn’t going to come at all. But eventually he noticed you nod your head. It was barely a movement, your head tipping down slightly before resuming its earlier place, but it was enough for him despite your unwavering glare.

He finally took a few steps back, thrusting the barrel of his gun once again into the waistband of his pants. Your angry form, on the other hand, didn’t move, opting instead to stand perfectly still despite your calves pressing into the sofa behind you. Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, brushing the strands that had fallen onto his forehead away from his face.

“Good, then we’re done here.”

He finally turned away from you, eyeing the door on his left intently. But before he could move towards it, your words made him pause.

“I just tried to kill you,” you commented before he turned to question its randomness. He found you sitting on the sofa once again, an eerily thoughtful look lurking behind your rage-filled eyes, “how will you know I won’t do it again?”

Jungkook tilted his head in response.

“You can try all you want, princess,” he said, liking the feeling of that nickname on his tongue more and more. It was almost addicting, “but you won’t succeed.”

Then his lips curled into a sly smirk, “after all, what kind of husband would I be if I barred my wife from her hobbies?”

He was able to just barely catch the roll of your eyes before he turned and pushed through the door he had been eyeing earlier, his hands automatically locking it behind him as he casually surveyed his office. The room had been spared from the new gleaming white and fawn furniture which had taken over his bedroom. Instead, it was filled with familiar dark brown.

Refined dark oak wood shelves and cabinets lined the walls except for the wall behind his large desk, which was made up entirely of a bookshelf filled to the brim with various hardcovers. For the sake of matching with the rest of the house, the marble floor had been done a light fawn colour, while another wall was made up of bulletproof glass, its centre having the ability to slide open to reveal a decent sized balcony.

Jungkook shrugged off his blazer as he made his way to his desk, laying the piece of cloth over the back of his black leather chair, before he opened the glass cabinet behind it. He didn’t need to think much as his fingers expertly curled around an expensive bottle of whiskey and a crystal glass. Before he knew it, he found himself standing outside on his balcony overlooking his estate, one hand holding the crystal glass filled halfway with light brown liquid while the other clutched the iron railing.

His gaze bounced around his estate for a peaceful moment as he took a sip from his glass, taking in the expanse of the luscious green field bordering the neatly done driveway despite the darkness of the night. In its centre was an intricately designed white fountain spewing water in four different directions, but all of which emptied systematically into the white basin at its base. The estate itself stretched for metres, the gates enclosing the space barely visible from where he was standing. Jungkook’s thoughts bounced around his head just as quickly as his gaze.

What a day it had been. At first, you’d been a complete idiot, one that had irritated him to no extent with your doe eyes and evident shyness.

But then you had turned out to be an entirely different species, far from the innocent and ditzy girl he’d labelled you as. You were cunning and feisty and seemingly very much ready for a divorce.

Jungkook felt the corners of his lips pull upwards into a grin as he took another sip of his whisky.

You were quite the enigma.

But he was going to enjoy the challenge.

A/N: comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!

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baronessvonglitter · 3 days

Text

Blue Hour

outlaw!Joel Miller x runaway hitchhiker!f!Reader

Word count: 2,852

Summary: hitchhiking in the cruel Texas desert, you're picked up by a handsome stranger

WARNINGS: outlaw!Joel (not mentioned exactly what criminal activity he's involved in, but he does bear scars and looks as if he's been in a fight recently), also he's on the run, brief mentions of parental abuse and alcoholism, strangers to lovers, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v sex (birth control is briefly discussed), soft!Joel (he's respectful of boundaries)

Author's Note: I had initially wanted to do a trucker story, but thought that the criminal element fit better here. I would absolutely love to see a trucker!Joel fic if it doesn't already exist. Please do tag me if it does! Also this is lightly edited but the love is there..

You're both running from something; that's how you find each other.

On a lonely stretch of highway in West Texas, Joel Miller picks you up on the side of the road, his mindset one of penance. If he does a good thing by saving someone maybe he can save himself. You're just glad to get away, as far away as possible from a mom who drank all the time, berated you, beat you, and was only at her most peaceful when she was passed out cold.

It's a danger in and of itself to get into Joel's truck, and a danger to come into his motel room, but to you, any other place is safer than where you grew up. The little roadside motel is brightly lit, welcoming, the sign neon against the cerulean summer evening sky.

By the fluorescent glow of the cheap TV screen with its staticky channels you exchange your stories. Joel doesn't tell you much apart from the fact that he's headed to New Mexico, and the scar on his nose, the way he's healing from a black eye you surmise is probably from a couple weeks ago. He carries a gun and his wallet is thick with cash. You can tell he's bad news but you don't care. You're just happy to have a roof over your head for the night and a plan of some sort of future taking shape in your mind.

With only one bed he offers to take the floor, but you insist it's fine to share. He's been a gentleman so far, despite the obvious flirtatious vibes you've been giving. It's impossible to keep to yourself as you both settle down to sleep. Your new life started the day you walked away from your home. You're a different person in this bed, laying on a cheap mattress with a handsome stranger. And, though you've never gone much farther than kissing, the newness of desire tugs at you from deep within.

"Joel.." his back is turned to you and he barely catches you calling for him. You press your hands to his back, which immediately gets his attention. He looks at you with slight confusion, as if he'd forgotten you were there, and when he sees the meaningful look in your eyes he knows what it is you want, and you don't stop him when he pulls you close.

Joel's fingers tangle in your hair, his other hand roaming over your waist and hip, caressing and claiming you with a hungry and desperate fervor. You moan softly, your tongues dancing against each other, and you melt under the sweet shared pleasure. Your fingers slip beneath his shirt, feeling the broad smooth expanse of his back.

His senses are afire as your fingers trace along his bare skin, and his own hands continue to wander, skimming along your sides, gently caressing the curve of your hip. He pulls back just enough to take a breath, his forehead coming to rest against yours, breathing in short, shallow gasps.

"I like the way you taste," you tell him, your confession soft and simple in the twilight glow of the room, your words caressing his lips. Joel's eyes darken with desire as he gazes at you in the semi-darkness.

"Yeah? And how do I taste, darlin'?" There's an edge of a growl to his words, his fingers stroking softly along your cheek, a fusion of longing and restraint etched into his expression.

"Like cinnamon, and whiskey," you whisper. "You taste like pleasure.."

He pulls you closer, nudging his nose against yours as a low, possessive growl rumbles in his chest. "You taste like sunshine and sweetness, sugar.." He dips his head back down to capture your lips in another searing kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips, swallowing your moans. Every sound, every gasp you make, fuels the fire burning within him, igniting an intoxicating blend of desire and hunger.

One arm wrapped around your waist, his other hand slides down your back, trailing fire along your skin as he moves lower, gently cupping your ass and pulling you against the heated length of his body. You gasp at the intimate touch. The way he presses you to his hardness awakens and excites something in you. "Joel!" you gasp.

The sound of his name, breathed out so sweetly from your lips, sends a shiver down his spine. "That's it. darlin'.. say my name.."

You whimper at the sweet friction as he continues to deliberately press you to his hardened arousal, kneading your cheeks. "Joel.." you say obediently, whispered in innocent pleasure.

He groans softly. "That's my good girl.." He presses you against him once more, allowing you to feel the full extent of his arousal, the heat and weight of it grinding against your core. Desire floods your veins and you slowly undulate your hips, finding little comfort in merely rubbing against him. "Fuck, you drive me crazy, darlin'," his voice is husky and raw with need.

"I want you.. please don't make me wait.." you tell him.

"Yeah? You want me.. like this? Is this how you want me to fuck you?" Joel's voice drips with primal need as he grinds against you, feeling the heat and wetness, his own arousal painfully hard at this point.

You nod, your breath catching in your throat. "I can't think about anything else right now. Just you.. with me."

"Darlin', I can't hold back anymore.." he warns, but he takes time to ask about birth control, and you assure him you are covered.

You reach up to kiss him, before breaking apart a moment to take off your top and help him remove his own. The feel of his warm flesh against yours is heavenly. He bears scars and old wounds upon his flesh, evidence of a life lived in danger. But right now you only think about how warm he feels, how strong he is. "I just want to feel your skin against mine for a little bit.."

Joel's touch is almost reverent as his large, calloused hands roam your bare skin, learning the contours of your soft supple flesh, cupping each breast. "My sweet girl.." he whispers in awe.

Likewise, you trace every little scar, thinking on how each of those fights, those deadly interactions, brought him one step closer to you. "I need you," he whispers, feeling more alive, brand new under the heat of your palms on his chest. His fingers find the waistband of your panties and his eyes quickly flick to yours, seeking permission. "Is this all right?" You nod eagerly, "Lift up your hips for me," comes his quiet command, and he gently tugs at the elastic, slowly pulling your panties down your thighs. He sees you laid bare before him, your inner thighs moist with desire, the curls on your mound dewy with want. "God damn.. you're so beautiful.. I wanna taste you.." he groans, pressing a heated kiss against the sensitive skin just beneath your hipbone.

You sigh at his kiss, his beard pleasantly scratching your skin. "Yes.. please.."

Joel's tongue flicks out to taste the heated flesh between your thighs, groaning softly at the flavor of you on his tongue before he begins to lick through your slick, puffy folds. He smiles as you gasp, your eyes wide and mouth parted in an O. "Joel!" you moan, panting as his tongue explores you. When he said he wanted to taste you, you assumed he meant more kissing. You hadn't expected this, hadn't known this was possible. Your fingers fist in his hair as he continues. He groans against you, the sound vibrating deliciously against your cunt. "Taste so sweet,.. like heaven.. my sweet girl.." he whispers between long, languid licks, his arms wrapping around your trembling thighs, holding you open for him as he feasts. His tongue flicks and dances over your clit, swirling and teasing, wanting to learn every inch of you, what makes you scream and what makes you whimper, getting drunk on your taste like a thirsty man lost in the desert.

Your hips arch up to meet each lick, each worshiping swipe as his pace becomes more insistent, following the sound of your moans and sighs, feeling the shivering in your body, his tongue flicking and circling in a hungry rhythm, determined to bring you to the brink.

Your thighs start to quake but he expertly keeps them spread open, feasting on you. "God! Joel, I'm coming!" Pleasure uncoils from the very center of you, radiating outward, controlling every other sense and thought. His hands grip your shaking thighs, lapping up all your sweet nectar. "That's it, darlin', let go for me.. I got you.." he whispers. He gently eases you through your orgasm, tongue slowing, savoring every drop he can. "God damn, sweetheart.. you taste so damn good.. you doing okay?"

"Yes," you pant, a light sheen of sweat forming on your skin. "Oh, Joel," you moan, bringing him to you for a kiss and tasting your flavor on his lips and tongue. He rises, crawling up your body until his weight is draped over you, his arms caging you in as you kiss, sharing your taste with you. He gazes down at you, the way you trust him implicitly ignites a mix of feelings: a raging, possessive need, a deep sense of responsibility, and a swelling of unbridled affection and adoration. He lifts a hand to gently caress your cheek, his thumb tracing soft patterns against your skin. You can see his heart and soul bared to you in that simple touch. Your skin is flushed, hair mussed, eyes bright. You've never looked more beautiful.

Joel shifts his weight, pressing closer against you, the pressure of his hard length against your hip undeniable as your eyes meet. You take him gently into your hands, grasping and feeling him. He groans at the softness of your hands wrapping around his arousal, eyes glazing over with pleasure. "God.. I want you.. need to feel you around me, sweetheart.."

You sense now that you have the power. Slowly you run your hands over his rigid cock, swiping your thumb across the tip, wiping away a bead of moisture. "Is it going to fit?" you ask, feeling the heft of it, both length and girth.

A guttural groan rumbles from his chest and his head bows down to bury his face against your neck. "It'll fit, sugar, I promise. Just take your time."

Your heart skips a beat. This is the ultimate thing that can bring you together, and will forever change what you mean to each other. "I'm ready for you.."

Joel's hands gently grip your thighs, guiding you to move and open further as he positions himself between your legs, the head of his cock resting against your entrance. His heart pounds as he looks down at you. "You sure, darlin'? I promise I'll go slow."

"I'm sure. I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Okay, just tell me if you need me to stop. I don't wanna hurt you." He presses to you a little more, eager to fill you but waiting on your word.

"Kiss me," you whisper.

He pours all his love and need into the kiss, swallowing your gasp as he presses forward, his thick cockhead just barely breaching you, his groan joining with yours at the feel of your tight heat around him. You break the kiss, resting your hands on his shoulders as he enters you, a little at a time. His fingers dig into your thighs, his expression a cross between pleasure and concern as he pauses, giving you a chance to adjust to him. "How is that, sweetheart? Am I hurtin' you at all?"

"Wait." You press your hands to his chest. "Wait a little bit," you pant, forcing yourself to relax around him in order to accommodate him.

Joel nods. "Take your time, sweetheart. I ain't goin' anywhere." He stills himself, using every inch of willpower in his possession, "Just breathe, darlin', you're doin' so good," he coos. "You feel so damn good... touch yourself, darlin'," he growls.

Your breath falters as you acquiesce, fingers flitting lightly over your distended clit, adding pressure, circling the cluster of nerve endings, making yourself wetter, letting him slide in a little bit more. Joel fights to maintain his control. "Fuck, you feel so good, so tight."

Despite his willingness to take it slow, your hormones are asking for something else. "Take what's yours," you whisper. "I want you to."

A deep groan rips loose from his chest at your words, the sound thick with need and desire, his control fraying at the thought of claiming you with a hard and deep thrust. "Take a deep breath, darlin'." He takes your hand, lacing your fingers together, his grip reassuring. "I love you, my sweet girl, my sunshine.." He pulls out slightly, his body tensing as he prepares, and his eyes lock with yours as he thrusts forward, hard and deep. You cry out in surprise and pain, which is little more than a brief shock before you become acclimated, leaving you with a lingering dull throb.

"Hey, shh, it's okay, it's okay darlin', breathe for me. You did so good, you took me all, such a good girl," comes Joel's praise as he cups your cheek with one hand and stroking your belly, easing the pressure there from his length taking up room so deep inside you. When you inadvertently squeeze around him, stretching to fit him, it sends a shock of pleasure spiraling through him. "Damn.. if you keep squeezin' me like that I ain't gonna last long, darlin'," he warns. He takes a deep breath, slowly pulling out, savoring the drag of it, before slowly pushing back in, starting a gentle, deliberate rhythm. "You're perfect, sugar."

Soon the friction begins to cancel out the dull ache, more so with each thrust. "Feels good," you sigh.

Joel's eyes flutter closed, his rhythm remaining slow and gentle, the feel of you surrounding him, the feel of being buried inside your warmth as the most perfect sort of pleasure, his breath coming in short pants. "Sweetheart.. oh sweetheart.. oh god.. damn you feel so right, like you were made for me."

"You were right," you smile, "you do fit."

"Yeah darlin', I'm right where I'm meant to be, buried so deep inside my sweet girl." He keeps moving against you, spine tingling with delight as he feels you moving with him, naturally, your bodies in sync with one another. "Yes, just like that.. move with me, sweetheart."

Your brows furrow in pleasure, heart swelling at his praise. "Joel.. give me more.."

He groans, his eyes darkening as his pace quickens, hips rolling forward with a little more determination, the sounds of your flesh slapping together filling the air. "Like this, sugar?"

"Yes! Fuck!" you groan, lightning filling your veins as you move quicker together. Your words shoot straight to his soul, heat pooling and coiling in his gut. "God, Joel, I'm so close!" you whimper. His breath comes in sharp pants as he drives you closer to the edge, his rhythm growing rougher, less controlled. "Me too, sugar. I'm right there with you.. wanna feel you come around me, wanna hear you say my name. Say it, darlin', come for me and say my name."

"God!!" Eyes scrunched tight you let go, coming hard as your cunt clenches around him, fluttering hard and fast. "Oh!! Joel!!" you scream. Joel's pushed over the edge, giving a few jerky thrusts before you feel him twitching and pulsing inside you, filling you with his cum, his thighs shaking from the force of his pleasure. "Oh, fuuuucckk," he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, heart pounding wildly.

You feel his heart racing next to yours, almost as if beating with the same cadence, both of you trembling, spent, satisfied. He raises himself on his arms to look down at you. "You're so damn gorgeous, you know that? Especially when you're all breathless and flushed, still quakin' from comin' so hard."

Despite the breathtaking passion you'd just shared, you still blush. "Came hard thanks to you," you give him a soft kiss.

Joel grins, a cocky, proud smirk tugging at his lips, feeling a warm glow in his chest. He gently brushes back a strand of your hair. "How you feelin', sugar?"

"A little sore," you admit. "But I think, considering what we're working with, a little pressure was to be expected," you smirk, still feeling him inside you.

He chuckles, the sound of it making your heart thrum, as he slowly pulls out, knowing your still sensitive. "You took me like a goddamn champ, sweetheart."

You whimper at the loss of him, feeling his cum dribble out of you, and your eyes light up at his praise. "Really?"

"Really." He gazes down at you, his eyes a mixture of speculation and resourcefulness. "You wanna come with me to New Mexico, darlin'?"

#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #outlaw!joel miller #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #ao3 fanfic #read the warnings #soft!joel miller

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interstellarflare · 3 days

Text

A Cinderella Story || Anthony Bridgerton

-PART TWO-

Summary: Have courage, and be kind. Words that you tried to live by ever since the passing of your parents. Though your step-mother and step-sisters did everything in their power to hide you and your status away from the rest of the Ton, you never expected to catch the eye of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton himself.

Authors Note: This is my first Bridgerton series! I had an absolute ball writing this, and I hope you enjoy it! There is a tag list open if anyone wishes to be kept updated for future parts. I would also like to apologise for the previous tag list not working! It has been fixed now! Gif by @fifty5hades

|PART ONE|

The horses had been restless ever since you had arrived in town. Lady Worthington, Elizabeth and Mary had been traversing between multiple shops for hours now, the three of them making multiple trips back to stuff every inch of the carriage full of boxes and bags that contained every expensive item of clothing imaginable.

The horses flinched every time the carriage doors slammed closed, their heads lifting upward as they were startled by the harsh sound. But after a few gentle pats and sweetly whispered words, the two black geldings calmed down and went back to their idling. You released a deep sigh, gently ruffling the horses’ mane as you people watched. Lords and Lady’s strolled by, some of them sneering at your dirty and slightly big dress, but you didn’t mind. You never had minded.

Sure, these clothes weren’t kept in line with their usual standard upkeep, but it was all that you had. Clothes were better than none at all. You had been so caught up tending to the horses, that you hadn’t noticed the figure creeping up behind you along the cobblestones. You jumped as the culprit tickled your sides, releasing a loud shriek as you spun around to meet the face of a young girl you knew all too well.

“Oh god, Eloise! Don’t do that!” You cried, the young Bridgerton cackling at your fright. She smiled, lightly punching your shoulder as she cried “Oh come on, this is the first time I have seen you in weeks! Does that wicked woman lock you up in a tower or something?”

“She might as well…” You replied sharply, gripping the harness of the horse closest to you “I haven’t seen the sun in days.”

“Don’t you joke about that, you know I will actually have my brothers come and save you from that hell” Eloise teased, pointing her finger at you with a stern expression. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as a small yet grateful smile graced your lips.

Eloise Bridgerton, the fifth eldest in the Bridgerton family, had figured out who you were the first moment she had met you. She was smart and witty, and had instantly put two and two together, and had no problem reminding you whenever she ran into you on the street.

The daughter of one of the most prominent Lords on the ton, suddenly vanishes after her father’s unfortunate and sudden death, running away due to the grief and sadness at the loss of her parents. Then not two days later, a new maid is hired. The ton wasn’t the biggest fan of the Worthington family, according to Eloise. The horror stories she had heard from Daphne and her brothers were more or less disturbing to say the least. She had never met your stepsisters, and prayed that she never would, but of course with the latest season coming up, that might be a little hard.

You turned to face Eloise fully, leaning back slightly as the horse’s head chased after your attention, obscuring your view slightly. “And just what are you doing in town? I thought you would have been at home preparing for Lady Danbury’s ball this evening?”

Eloise groaned loudly, slumping against the side of the carriage with a loud thump. You laughed softly at her behaviour, watching as she rolled her eyes and turned her gaze skyward. “Though I so wish that I could stay at home and read the night away, my mother has made it clear that I am to find something nice to wear for this evening. I am being chaperoned by my brother-“

“Oh?” You asked teasingly, chuckling at the glare that formed on her face “and which brother do you have the pleasure of accompanying you tonight?”

“Oh, you are so funny…” Eloise grumbled, crossing her arms over her front with a huff “…I am being chaperoned right now! ‘So that I may not run away’, according to Anthony.”

Your laughter echoed throughout the street, as Eloise rushed forward and begged you to keep quiet. You held your stomach and wiped a stray tear from your eye, releasing the horse’s harness as you did so. “Oh Eloise, I will say I do not envy you-“

“Oh but I envy you! But remember you used to be a part of this life”

“The only ball I went to was when I was a child, and even then, I don’t remember that much of it”.

Eloise scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “To be blessed with such fortune as you have, though I suppose being related to Lady Worthington can be accustomed to being related to a toad-“

“Shhhhhhh!” You hushed, pressing a finger to your lips as Eloise smirked “Don’t say such things out loud! They could be back any minute-“

“Oh, I don’t care much. That woman is despicable-“

You watched her eyes widen, her words dying out as a small squeak replaced her sentence. Focused on the space behind you, you turned quickly and froze, suddenly feeling rather small and very aware of your current dress.

Anthony Bridgerton, the Viscount himself stood before you. He stood tall, hands clasped together behind his back as his deep brown eyes flickered between the two of you. You suddenly felt self-conscious the longer he stared at you, but you were the first to look away as you bowed your head, and once again returned to tending the horses.

“Must you always be difficult, dear sister” The Viscount spoke sarcastically, a small huff escaping him as he clenched his jaw in annoyance. You heard Eloise groan, “Must you always insist on stopping and chatting with every Lord you see? Surely it gets rather tiring”.

“It is polite, Eloise…” he spoke through gritted teeth “need I remind you that your prospects this season rely on me helping you to find a suitable husband-“

“Ah yes, because Daphne’s season went so unbelievably well. Tell me dear brother, how was it that Lord Berbrooke became our dear sister’s only suitor for some time, hm? Who, pray tell, was responsible for that match, until our lovely Daphne married the Duke of Hastings?”

The scowl that formed on the Viscount’s face caused an unpleasant shiver to run down your spine, but you couldn’t help but chuckle softly as Eloise stuck out her tongue in retaliation to her brother’s disapproving look.

You turned your gaze upward and met the Viscount’s eyes. He was looking you over, his scowl turning into a gentle smile as he sighed heavily. “You’ll have to forgive my sister, unfortunately she seems to forget her manners when in public” he spoke informatively, sneering at Eloise as she rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath.

You shrugged your shoulders, “There’s nothing to forgive, my Lord. I am well acquainted with your sister’s antics I’m afraid-“

“Don’t you dare take his side Y/n!” Eloise screamed, stomping her foot like and annoyed child. You laughed a reply, noticing the man beside you chuckling alongside you “We both know you’re not the biggest fan of society Eloise, I am simply stating fact-“

“I never thought you would betray me like this…how could you” She spoke softly, clutching her chest in mock-hurt as she dramatically slid down the side of the carriage, coming to rest on the step below the door. You heard the Viscount laugh, “Perhaps Miss Y/n here as a point. You will have to be on your best behaviour tonight, so I suggest that perhaps you should start practicing your etiquette before then-“

“You are both the worst” Eloise grumbled, standing up from the carriage step and slowly walking towards the store front before her. “If anyone needs me, I will be inside. The two of you can gossip about me at your own leisure while I suffer numerous dress-fittings inside” She whined, opening the door and disappearing inside.

You once again turned your attention back to the Viscount, looking up at him shyly as you fiddled with your hands in front of you. “Your sister does mean well, you know. Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but I am lucky to have a friend like her, especially at my status.”

He smiled at your words, his eyes meeting yours and softening on your form. You felt nervous under his gaze, with how he was looking at you with such interest. No Lord had ever looked at you like this, nor even recognised your presence. It was nice.

“I know she has the best intentions, yet it is the way that she goes about them that sometimes hinders her reputation” He replied, sighing heavily as he watched you intently for your reply. You shrugged “Well, she is a part of one of the most famous and revered families on the ton, she is constantly under the public’s watchful eye. What is the harm of having some freedoms here and there?”.

Your question was innocent enough, but you noticed the Viscount’s brow furrow as he thought on your words. His gaze fell to the cobblestones in contemplation, before returning to your figure with a mischievous smile. “You certainly know a lot of the ton. Tell me, how do you know so much?”.

Your eyes widened and a small blush crept onto your cheeks as you stuttered, “W-Well, Lady Worthington and her daughters discuss these sorts of matters quite openly-“

“Wait, Lady Worthington?” he asked, his eyes suddenly wide with what you could only assume was fear. You eyed the Viscount suspiciously, tilting your head to the side as you spoke. “Yes?...What of them?”

“Oh no, nothing. It has only now just dawned on me that you are the same Y/n that Colin mentioned when he returned from the Worthington household after calling on Miss Elizabeth, and the same Y/n that Eloise calls a friend. I feel rather stupid for not realising it until now.”

A smile formed on your lips as you dismissed his revelation, “Well, I’m not the most memorable person around, I am merely a maid-“

“A maid who has the ear of my sister…and now mine I suppose.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, your cheeks once again flushing a bright red as you turned to face him. “You’re…you’re not ashamed to be speaking so openly with me?” you asked him softly, your eyes wide with shock as you waited anxiously for his reply.

The Viscount shook his head, lightly lifting his shoulders as he hummed. “Should I be? Anyone who works for Lady Worthington has my sympathies.”

Perhaps he would be ashamed, if he knew who you really were.

You were left speechless, unsure of how to reply to his words as your mouth fell open and closed. Before you could think of a reply, the store door burst open to reveal Eloise, who now looked incredibly pale and distraught. Both you and the Viscount shared a look of confusion.

“Are you alright Eloise?” You asked cautiously. She looked between you and her brother, breathing deeply in a panic.

“My dear brother, if you wish to keep your marriage prospects hidden until the ball tonight…I suggest we run” Eloise replied breathlessly, rushing over to her brother and taking his arm in hers.

“What are you talking about-“

“Oh for the love of god, Lady Worthington and her daughters are inside! We should run, now!”

Your eyes met Eloise’s, and then those of her brother who were just as wide, perhaps even more terrified. Without thinking, your shoved both Eloise and the Viscount down the street, laughing as you did so. “Go! Don’t become trapped as I have!”

The Viscount’s laughter caused your heart to soar, as he waved a quick goodbye while Eloise dragged him away and around the corner, right on time as Lady Worthington, Mary and Elizabeth stormed out of the store in a huff. You returned to stand by the horses, trying desperately to contain your laughter as the three of them stumbled towards the carriage, boxes in hand, and struggling to squeeze into the already overstuffed carriage.

“I suppose you found everything you were after, my lady?” You replied quickly, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from chuckling, “should we perhaps return home?”

Lady Worthington’s icy gaze settled on your form, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “Did I tell you to speak? I think not. Just go, we have a lot to do before the ball.”

Tag List:

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@this-gave-pidgeon-further-shock

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #jonathan bailey

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enwoso · 2 days

Note

Ooh a bit of an angsty one!

Can we have something about when Alessia transferred from United to Arsenal and how grumpy reacted to the fans (not all fans but quite a lot of them) turning on Alessia?

Something about the transition period and how they adjusted to the new club please!

Love your writing so much!

FOR THE BETTER — alessia russo x child!reader

sorry to whoever requested this that it has taken me so long, i do apologise! this was supposed to be out last week but then i was ill and then life was busy so it’s been a bit delayed but hey better late than never eh?

ALSO thank you all for 400 followers i love and appreciate each and every one of you all<3🥹

navigation -> grumpy universe masterlist

the past couple of weeks had been a whirlwind for alessia but even more so for you. you weren't used to change nor were you a big fan of change.

you'd had basically the same routine your entire life. same bedtime, same favourite teddy, same favourite colour, same amount of sweets you were allowed before bed.

it was all you had ever known and so was manchester.

so when you got home from being australia it was a little weird to you not be going back home with your auntie ella and the other united girls like you usually would after an england camp.

when leaving for the world cup you didn't realise that, that was going to be the last time you were going to be in that home in manchester, the last time you would wake up in that home.

instead, this time you were going back with lotte and the other girls who lived in london for some strange reason unknown to you.

"mummy! where auntie ella going?" you asked as sat on top of the trolley of suitcases as alessia had went to say goodbye to her best friend not knowing when she would next see her.

"back to manchester lovie" she smiled softly, her voice a little shaky. your eyebrows knitted together a litttle, "why we not go with her, we live dere too!" you pouted, your face struck with confusion.

"lovie, we had this talk before we went to australia" alessia had stopped in the airport, dismissing lotte who stood waiting for her. signalling that you'd catch them back up.

"talk?"

"about mummy,, moving to a new club" the blonde spoke calmly trying to re jog your little memory as your mouth opened to an 'o' shape. realisation hitting you that change was happening as the talk memory appeared back into your head.

"your here, i thought you were watching tv in my room" you jumped a little at the sound of your mummy's voice as she came into your room. you'd been playing a game with your dolls on your bedroom floor.

"you wan be this one?" you asked holding up a doll towards your mum as she smiled, nodding and joined you on your bedroom floor.

"before we play though, i actually need to talk to you" your mum sounded serious as a frown appeared on your face, mummy only ever wanted to 'talk' when you had done something you were not supposed to of.

"oh- your not in trouble lovie"

"so mummy has been asked to join a new football club, called arsenal" she explained to you as the doll in your hand dropped slightly. a slight silence filling the room.

"you still play here?" you asked as your mum shook her head, "no lovie it means we have to move down to london"

you paused for a minute, it processing in your head "oh, but who play tag with after training?" you sadly smiled, you would play tag with millie and ona after each training session.

"i'm sure many of the girls will love playing tag with you, beth and leah play there too" mummy said as you looked back up from the ground.

"from england?" you asked as mummy nodded. it took a little convincing from you but once alessia had assured you, after you were a bit hesitant you agreed and didn't feel as sad about leaving manchester.

since the day in the airport, you had settled into your new home in london. it had already been better than manchester as you already seeing your uncles and grandparents more in the past week than you had the entire time that you lived in manchester.

you had made friends at your new nursery, settling in quick — quicker than alessia expected. as well as decorating your room the colour you wanted as well as picking out a new bed, which mummy had described to you as being your first big girl bed.

alessia of course had already started training for preseason. however you hadn't had a chance to go to training with being at nursery so today would be the first time meeting your mummy's teammates.

you were scared.

you don't remember meeting the united girls, to you they had always been there. but mummy said that was because you were just a baby when you first met those girls.

walking hand in hand with your mummy, your other hand holding your elephant teddy, esme which you'd had since you were really little held close and tight to your chest.

your mummy leading you to where she would put her training bag away, along with your bag before leading you down the long corridors to where the team was having lunch.

the arsenal girls knew that you were coming today and had asked alessia what was the best way to introduce themselves to you, not wanting to make you feel overwhelmed by all the new faces.

alessia suggesting that it be one by one as you weren't the biggest fan of big crowds and being fussed over.

you tugged on your mums arm, asking to be picked up as she did placing you on her hip as she walked deeper into the room. there being a few faces which you recognised that being the three england girls but once you spotted some of the other girls you hid your face deep in your mum's neck.

"oh is that you tiny?" beth beamed as you kept your face hidden feeling the movement of alessia sitting down. her hand rubbing up and down your back to try and soothe you, hoping you would come out from your little shell you'd put yourself in.

"she's gone all shy" alessia shrugged as she tried to peel you from your hiding spot, only whines coming from you as you dug your face deeper into her chest.

"shy? if there's one thing tiny isn't and that's shy!" you heard leah say, as well as your mum hum as she nodded her head in agreement.

it was true when you had the chance you could easily talk for england and would most definitely come away with a gold medal in that type of competition. alessia had her brothers and ella to thank for your chattiness even though she loved to hear you ramble on about anything and everything.

“tiny! do you want to see these photos of myle?” beth tried this time, you had been obsessed with the little puppy that beth had just gotten. myle was so small and any time you were at beth’s you would sit and talk to myle — you considered myle to be one of your best friends since you’d moved to arsenal as she too was getting used to all the new faces just like you were.

this seemed to do the trick as you slowly peeled yourself from your mums chest, half your face turning to look at beth, as the other half was covered with your grey elephant teddy. beth who was on her phone more than likely looking for the photos.

you looked up to your mum still unsure as you could see out the corner of your eye the unknown faces of your mummy’s new teammates. your mummy smiling nodding her head enthusiastically as you slowly climbed down from her lap and over to beth who was sat in between leah and viv.

you fingers in your mouth, you other hand having esme the elephant in it as you walked nervously over to beth, standing next to her as she lifted you onto her lap.

her phone screen in front of you as she showed you an arrange of photos of myle, some with a little scarf wrapped around her collar, some of her just lying asleep around beth and viv’s apartment and the rest were myle with some of the girls who were sat in the room with you right now.

“who dat?” you pointed to one of the girls who was holding myle another one of the girls sat next to her as your face scrunched at the unknown people.

“that’s vic and steph, look their over there!” beth pointed the two girls out as they both noticed you looking at them sending you a small wave, as you returned it. alessia watching on as she talked with leah and viv a smile appearing on the blondes face as she watched you slowly come out of your shell.

beth carried on swiping through the photos as you had now learned who kyra, katie, caitlin and stina were sending them all a small shy wave as beth pointed them out in the canteen.

“who dis?” you pointed to the girl in the photo as beth has swiped to the next photo.

“and that’s lia” beth smiled as you looked at her confused, “no that not leah? le there” you frowned as you pointed to the blonde leah who was sat with your mum across the table from you.

beth chuckling lightly at your little misunderstanding, “no tiny, there’s another lia! look there” beth pointed to the other lia as you awh in realisation, sending the lia a little wave like you’d done with the other girls.

“there two leah’s?” you turn to look at beth, who nodded with a smile on her face.

beth carried on, pointing out each of the arsenal girls as you did your signature shy wave at them as beth felt a slight feeling of accomplishment that you’d began to come out your shell, yes you may have not actually met the girls properly but you’d been introduced to and anyway there was plenty of time for you to meet them, the arsenal girls would not only becoming your mummy’s new teammates but they in time would become part of your family.

alessia had now been at arsenal for a few months now and you both had fully settled in, your home in london had finally come together and your room was fully decorated and in your opinion a lot better than your room in manchester.

and now the league had started and you’d now become fully acquainted with all the girls and as your mum had expected once you’d come out your shell, you loved them all.

after beth sat you down and showed you all the girls, it took you a few days to learn all there faces but you had now learned all about them and they had learned all about you and your little habits too.

katie who you learned was irish and had an accent that you found funny as she would say some words funny like the word three always had you in stitches as it sounded like tree, she was cool too as she would let you get away with being a little naughty sometimes.

caitlin, steph and kyra were all australian, they all had a funny accent to you too but the three of them were all different. caitlin was quiet but she would always let you pass the ball to her and play tag with you once training was done.

steph would let you talk to her as she answered all your questions you had about australia especially after just spending the summer there. and kyra well she would help you cause trouble, she would always sit with you and colour as well as dance around the changing room with you when the music was on.

vic was someone who mummy would sometimes take to training, and who mummy would spent a lot of time with when at training. vic was dutch just like viv. and vic wasn’t a big fan of mummy’s driving and on a morning when you were going to training with the as you sat in the back vic would sometimes sit and complain about mummy’s driving as you would sit in the back in your car seat giggling.

and for lia it had taken you a few days to wrap your head around there being two leah’s as in your mind you had only met one leah and that was blonde leah. so you had decided to give them your own nicknames, leah one and lia two just so you didn’t get confused.

as for the rest of the girls they had all been very welcoming to you and your mummy, helping you both to fit in.

and now it was onto the second match of the season against manchester united, the first time alessia was going to be back since she left. to say she was a little nervous was an understatement but she was trying her best not to show it.

“you okay?” lotte asked knowing how much the blonde had been dreading this fixture to come, and it being so early on in the season was not helping. as she walked into the leigh sports village with alessia, you following suit next to her.

wearing your new arsenal shirt, russo printed on the back in big white capital letters over the top of your hoodie it being a cold october night down in manchester something alessia definitely wasn’t missing since moving back down south.

alessia didn’t say anything just nod as she looked over to her england teammate, her lip bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes making sure not to loose you as you three reached the changing room.

you sat on the bench quietly watching your ipad munching on a few snacks you’d been given as your mummy got changed and did her pre match routine.

“mummy?” you looked up from your ipad, your mum doing her hair as you watched her wrap her bobble around her bun. “yes lovie?” she smiled at you.

“we see auntie ella and mazza?” you asked, you knew that arsenal were playing manchester united as you had overheard mummy talking to auntie ella on the phone you then interrupting and talking to ella and how you were excited to see her after a few months not yet being totally used to not seeing her every single day of the week.

the excitement following through the entire week as it was all you had spoken about to anyone you’d seen, even the staff at your nurseries knew.

“after the game we can, i’m sure they are both just excited to see you” she smiled as you nodded excitedly, you little legs swinging from the bench as mummy kissed the top of your head before smoothing out her kit to change into, your attention going back to your ipad.

the match had now begun and was just nearing half time and you were sat with leah one who had come down on the bus with the team, but she still had a big ouchie on her knee meaning she couldn’t play.

you were wrapped in a blanket with your big thick puffer on which mummy had made sure to zip right up before she ran onto the pitch.

watching with a smile, but that smile quickly dropped as then you noticed.

the manchester united fans were booing your mummy. the same fans which would cheer and shout her name while asking her to sign and take photos with her just a few months ago. they were now booing.

the first time you thought maybe it was just a mistake, but then it happened again. every time your mummy touched the ball, they booed.

“why they booing?” you asked, as leah frowned not knowing how to exactly explain it to you but she could tell it was upsetting you.

“i’m not sure tiny” leah sighed as she pulled you onto her lap so you had a better view of the pitch. making sure your blanket was kept around you to keep you from the crisp cold air.

“me no like it” you huffed, a frown not replacing the smile that was on your face moments ago.

“it’s okay, look your mummy’s got the ball, she might score!” leah tried to turn your focus away from the sound of the booing but that’s all you could hear, it was ringing through your ears.

“stop! make it stop le!” you whined shoving your head into her chest as your fingers went into your ears. leah’s heart dropping as she watched you start to cry, deciding it was probably best to take you into back inside away from all the noise.

alessia watched each step that leah took, you in her arms. your face hidden, alessia knew straight away that the noise of the booing as well as the nasty chants were upsetting you. alessia had learned with time to block them out when she was playing but you were young and took things more sensitively.

leah had turned back to try and catch alessia’s eyes, quickly realising alessia was already watching leah. alessia mouthing a quick, ‘is she okay?’ knowing that was probably a silly thing to ask but she did always before running to get the ball from katie, still noticing the quick thumbs up that leah threw towards alessia.

the booing only spurred alessia on more, wanting to play that well that it would silence them. something the travelling arsenal fans had been good at, chanting louder than the many home fans.

leah took you back into the changing room just after half time has finished doing her best to calm you down and distract you — it taking a few laps around the inside of the stadium and a trip to the food van before the tears stopped.

back in the changing room, you sat down on the bench, your ipad propped up as you both began to watch a cartoon as you placed your blanket across your legs and leah knees being extra careful to not hurt her ouchie on her knee.

you both being very consumed by the bright light of the ipad screen you both didn’t even hear the sound of the changing room door go, the girls beginning to pile in at the end of the match.

“hey lovie” you mum cooed softly, placing a hand on your head slightly startling both you and leah. but you were quickly jumping into her arms as she twirled you around.

“you okay now?” she asked softly as you nodded, your arms wrapped around your mummy’s neck not wanting to let go. alessia rubbing her hand up and down your back as you placed a little kiss on your cheek, mouthing a thank you to leah who smiled nodding her head.

“good” alessia whispered, as you let go from hugging you mum as you sat on her hip. “why were they booing” you asked innocently, the same frown appearing from earlier, since you didn’t get a proper answer from leah, you might from mummy.

“there just upset i left that’s all lovie, there silly anyway and there nothing you-” your mummy began as your frown still stayed, “-need to worry about, okay” she finished booping your nose a small smile flashing on your lips.

“i know you love me and that’s all that matters” mummy told you with a smile as you nodded.

“now we need that smile to come back, cause i don’t think auntie ella and mazza will want to see you all grumpy!”

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strawberrymochin · 8 hours

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The moan analysis

A slight analysis on how jjk boys would moan | Gojo satoru; Geto suguru; Nanami kento; Ryomen sukuna; Toji fushiguro | got a little carried away while writing nanami and toji

Gojo satoru

✎ starting off with the vocal king of sorcerers, gojo's moans would be vocal 'vocal'. Normally gojo has a playful smooth voice that does charms to human ears, however it changes completely in bed. His voice would go two or three octaves lower as he pants and groans as he thrusts in you. He's a kinda guy who would whispers slutty compliments while fucking you in the middle of the night, depriving you of your beauty sleep. If you're the one who's riding him, he would be squirming as whimpers would follow his delicate trembling lips, especially if you clench too hard around him. He has no shame voicing his pleasures and thus innocently ruins neighbour's peace.

Geto suguru

✎ Suguru's a guy, who lies mostly within rough grunts to panting breaths. He won't be the one to be much vocal while doing the thing. The vocal one in the relationship would be you, since you can't keep your mouth shut when he takes you (c'mon I mean nobody can keep it shut if it's geto suguru). He loves hearing your moans instead. And boy, he hasn't voiced out his thoughts yet, as its kinda embarrassing to him but if you would agree to it, he would record your moans into a playlist. I'm not even kidding, there would be a sorted out one containing your moans from finger fucking, eating you out, fucking you etc. (not to mention he would jerk off to those playlists when you're away from him)

Nanami kento

✎ ASMR. I repeat ASMR. The moans of nanami kento would be literal asmr to your ears. As a former salary man and now again a sorcerer, nanami gets real tired and has trouble sleeping. You were thinking of suggesting him asmr to relieve stress however you realised maybe he would want something more better. And this is how you would find yourself facing the mattress as your back is firmly pressed on namami's toned chest as he thrusts in and out, while snaking an arm around your curves finding his way to your neck slightly choking you, making you drool. His moans would be breathy and slight croaky. He won't waste his stamina trying to talk rather than keep his mind focused on the sensation on the pleasure where you suck him in so good. The only time he would be any vocal would be when he reaches his climax as he cums inside you with a series of low groans.

Ryomen sukuna

✎ Kk, forget about his moaning, this merciless guy would fuck you so hard that you would barely hear any sound other than you whining and moaning under him. The only time you could hear him moan, would be when you give him a blowjob or a titjob whatever he wants. His moans would consist of breathy groans to slight pants while he degrades you. You would know you're doing a great job if his voice cracks while passing you a snarky comment or if his breath hitched while you draw your tongue over his tip licking it clean as it twitches in your mouth. Though every single thing you do would make him experience heaven (which he would never go, nor you guys....lol) he would never accept that you have a slight dominance when sucking him or riding him as it would affect his ego.

Toji fushiguro

✎ Forget about his moans, his existence itself is the sluttiest to ever happen. Also he's such a softie in love babe I swear. He won't be much vocal again except the time he reaches his climax. He would cum as he whispers delicate words of you being such a good girl taking him in as he pants and groans. His words might mess up a little bit, as he cums, might end up blabbering nonsense incoherent words as he rides his high. He makes sure to say one thing everytime you guys have sex, is that he's grateful for you to exist in his world and would beg you a million times to never disappear. To never leave him. That's the only time he shows his true self to you, which you embrace in your arms, cupping his cheeks to gently kiss him to sleep. Even though he seems tough outside, I feel he might be the most insecure person due to his childhood experiences and might hesitate to open up to you. But there's no doubt he would be on his knees for you.

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parkerslatte · 22 hours

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Relax For Me

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: smut. wing play. masterbation.

Summary: After Azriel comes home from a long mission, his best friend, Y/N, helps him relax.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Y/N closed the doors to her balcony and drew the curtains. The sun was only just setting but she wanted an early night, ever since she had woken up that morning she only craved to go back to sleep. Y/N yawned as she shuffled to her bedroom and climbed under the cool covers. She smiled as she did so, basking in the feeling of the cold sheets against her warm skin.

The silk pillow was soft beneath her head and Y/N allowed her eyes to close, wanting nothing more than to drift off into that peaceful unconscious state. As she began to feel herself drifting off, there was a quiet knock at her front door. Y/N groaned and pulled the covers closer underneath her chin. If she ignored the noise then it would go away. However, not even a few seconds later, there was another knock and this time it was more urgent.

With a sigh, Y/N pulled the covers from her body and shuffled back through her apartment and to the front door. She frowned as she opened it, prepared to yell at whoever it was to leave. But as the door opened and revealed Azriel standing on the other side, all the irritation drained from Y/N.

“Hi,” Azriel said quietly, offering Y/N a small wave.

“Az,” Y/N said, blinking rapidly. “What are you doing here?”

“I finished my mission early,” Azriel said. “I thought I would come to see you.”

Y/N stepped to the side and allowed Azriel to step into her apartment. “Come in.” Azriel stepped past her and Y/N closed the door, locking it behind her. “I thought I wouldn’t see you for at least another few days. Did the rundown with Rhys go quickly?” Y/N continued as she watched Az slump in a chair in the corner of the room.

“I haven’t been to Rhys yet,” Azriel admitted. “I came straight here.”

Y/N finally looked at what he was wearing and frowned. He was still wearing clothes covered in dirt and grime, his wings weren’t much better as they were too covered in mud and other things Y/N couldn’t recognise.

“I missed you,” Azriel said, offering Y/N a small lopsided grin.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile back, she had always loved that specific smile of Azriel’s. “I missed you too.” Y/N stepped closer to him and took his hand in hers, giving it a small squeeze. “I would hug you but I don’t want to get mud on my pyjamas. Do you want me to run you a bath?”

Azriel looked down at Y/N’s attire. “Were you about to go to sleep?”

Y/N nodded. “I was, until you came knocking on my door. I am not complaining though.

Azriel reluctantly let go of Y/N’s hand. “I should let you get back to sleep. I will just go straight to Rhys.”

“No, Az,” Y/N said. “You look like you are about to fall asleep if you stand up. Let me run you a bath and get some clean clothes out for you.”

“I won’t say no if you were to do that,” Azriel said.

Y/N smiled. She bent down lightly and kissed his cheek. “I’ll even let you use all of my fancy soaps.”

“I must look like I’m about to drop dead if you are letting me use those. You nearly took my hand off the last time I went to use those,” Azriel jokes.

“You exaggerate,” Y/N replied. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Leaving Azriel in the living room, Y/N entered her bathroom and began to run a bath for Azriel. She placed a brand new bar of her soap in the small dish next to the basin and poured a modest amount of bubbles into it. Azriel would always say that he hated the bubbles but Y/N knew that she loved them. Y/N let the bath fill up and walked out of the bathroom.

“The bath is currently filling up,” Y/N said to Azriel. “You can get undressed in the bathroom. If you leave your clothes outside, I can get a start on washing them for you.”

“Y/N, you don’t need to do that,” Azriel said. “I can do it back at my own apartment.”

“Az, I insist,” Y/N replied. “You look exhausted and all I want to do right now is make sure you have a nice relaxing night. I have some of your clothes here, I’ll leave them just outside of the bathroom.”

Azriel stood from the chair and reached out to Y/N, gently caressing her hand. “What would I ever do without you?”

“I’m unsure as we have been friends for centuries and there is not a moment I can think of off the top of my head where I haven’t been by your side, of course except when you go on missions,” Y/N said.

Azriel rolled his eyes and walked away to the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him. Y/N let out a small breath before settling down on the couch.

***

It wasn’t long before Y/N was interrupted from what she was doing by Azriel calling out her name. From the other side of the door she could still hear the sound of him in the water so she was unsure why she was being called.

“Az?” Y/N spoke through the door. “What’s wrong?”

There was a hesitant pause before Azriel spoke again. “Can you come in here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Please,” Azriel asked. “It’s easier to explain that way. The bubbles are covering everything, don’t worry.”

Y/N slowly opened the door and gasped at the sight. The whole side of Azriel’s rib cage was bruised and a small gash was in the centre of it. “Az, what happened?” Y/N rushed over to him.

“It was just something that happened a couple of days ago, it is healing but quite slowly,” Azriel explained.

“You must have broken a rib or two,” Y/N examined the injury. “Or three.”

“I know,” Azriel said, sitting up a bit further in the bath. Y/N couldn’t help but let her eyes drift slightly but once she realised what she was doing, she snapped them back to Azriel, who luckily didn’t notice her brief distraction.

“What do you need me for?” Y/N asked.

A small blush coated Azriel’s cheeks. “It’s embarrassing to ask now you are here.”

Y/N smiled at him. “Go on, it can’t be that bad.”

“I need you to clean my wings,” Azriel replied, his blush deepening. “I’ve managed to do the bottom of them but I can’t reach the top without this stupid injury causing me pain.”

“Oh,” Y/N said, avoiding looking at Azriel directly.

“Forget it,” Azriel said. “It was stupid of me to ask.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Y/N said, fighting the urge to brush the wet strands of hair away from his forehead. “It’s just…you don’t ever let anyone touch your wings.”

“I trust you.” The comment came tumbling out of Azriel’s mouth quickly.

Y/N smiled. “I’m glad.”

Azriel cleared his throat. “Yes, well you don’t need to do it if you don’t wish to. I’m sure I can manage.”

“I will do it for you, Az,” Y/N said.

Azriel didn’t respond, not even when Y/N reached for the small washcloth beside him. He continued to stare straight ahead at the shutters and did not move as Y/N gathered supplies.

“Lavender or lemon?” Y/N asked.

“What?” Azriel asked.

“For the oil,” Y/N clarified. “Lavender or lemon?”

“Um, lavender,” Azriel said.

Y/N smiled softly. “Excellent choice.”

Azriel barely nodded as he fixated his eyes ahead once more. The moment Y/N placed the wash cloth against his wing, Azriel immediately flinched away, splashing water at Y/N in the process.

“Sorry,” Azriel mumbled.

Y/N placed the washcloth back onto his wing. This time Azriel did not flinch away but he was tense. Y/N continued to wipe away the grime until she threw the washcloth down onto the floor. Y/N could see all of the tension in Azriel’s body. She leant forward between his wings and draped her body on his.

“What are you doing?” Azriel asked.

“Just relax for me, Azriel,” Y/N whispered into his ear causing Azriel to shudder.

“I’m finding it quite difficult,” Azriel replied.

“Do you trust me?” Y/N asked.

“Of course I do,” Azriel said. “That's why I asked you to do this.”

“Then why are you still so tense?” Y/N asked.

“Because I know that if I relax too much, then…”

Y/N’s eyes briefly glanced down to where the bubbled obstructed Azriel’s lower half and everything clicked together. She always knew that his wings were sensitive but never realised that he could become so pent up just from her washing them.

“I see,” Y/N muttered.

“You should just leave,” Azriel said.

Y/N wrapped her arms around Azriel’s shoulders. “And why should I do that?”

“Because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Azriel muttered, his hands now caressing her arms.

“You won’t make me uncomfortable, Azriel,” Y/N said, her lips grazing his ear. “All you need to do is relax for me. Whatever happens, happens.”

Azriel slowly moved his head to face her and her eyes flicked down to his lips for a brief moment. She wanted to know how it felt to have his lips pressed against hers.

“Whatever happens, happens,” Azriel repeated, his eyes flicking down to her lips. Unlike Y/N, Azriel didn’t try to hide it.

Y/N pulled away and picked up a fresh washcloth and began to wipe off the grime from his wings. Azriel flinched for a moment before relaxing against the bath, allowing Y/N to wipe all the dirt from his wings. A content sigh left his lips as she did so.

Once all of the grime was gone, Y/N looked at Azriel and did not find one trace of rigidness within his body. “I’m going to use the oil now, if that’s okay with you.”

“I’m fine with that,” Azriel responded.

Y/N poured a generous amount of the oil onto her hands, the aroma filling the room. Y/N rubbed it into her hands and slowly reached towards his wings. She had never touched them before but she had always wondered what they felt like. She was pleasantly shocked to find them quite soft and smooth. The occasional small scar changed the texture, but they were nothing like Y/N imagined them feeling.

Azriel’s breathing changed as Y/N continued her movements on his wings, spreading the oil across them. He took heavier breaths and Y/N could already begin to smell the scent of his arousal cutting through the lavender.

Y/N could tell that she had hit a particular sensitive part on his wing as Azriel gripped the side of the bathtub tightly, his knuckles turning white.

“You can leave if you want to, Y/N,” Azriel said, his voice slightly breathless.

“Whatever happens, happens,” Y/N responded. Despite her not receiving the pleasure Azriel was, her voice was breathless too. The blissed out look on Azriel’s face was one she wanted to see more often.

The sensitive part of his wing proved to be a place where Azriel liked to be touched as a soft moan slipped through his lips. “Y/N…”

“Yes?” She asked.

“Please,” Azriel said, his hips twitched under the water, “don’t stop.”

Y/N leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his wing. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

As she massaged the oil into his wings, Y/N continued to pull sweet groans from the shadowsinger. If Y/N was being completely honest, the sound was music to her ears. She had always been somewhat attracted to Azriel but it was only recently where she had begun to question her attraction to him even more and she was sure that her feelings toward him weren’t completely platonic. He was the most beautiful male she had ever seen and even more beautiful now as he cried out in pleasure. Pleasure that she was causing him all because he trusted her.

“Fuck,” Azriel grunted, hips bucking in the water.

“Do you want me to stop?” Y/N teased.

“Don’t you dare,” Azriel said.

Y/N smirked before draping herself across his back once more, her hand continuing their movements on his wing. Azriel pants were even more beautiful to listen to in her ear as she pressed soft kisses against his neck and shoulder.

“Y/N,” Azriel groaned. “If you don’t stop doing that, I will come right here on the spot.”

“Am I just that attractive?” The question was aimed to simply tease Azriel, it was not meant to be taken seriously at all.

“Yes, you are,” Azriel admitted. “You drive me crazy whenever you walk into a room. Do you know how hard it is to not greet you with a kiss whenever I see you? You are the most beautiful female I have ever seen and you have no idea how long I have wanted to say these words.”

Y/N stopped the movements on his wing. “Do you really mean that, Az?”

“Of course I mean it!” He exclaimed. “And we will talk about it after, but right now if you don’t move your damn hand Y/N, I am sure I will simply die in this bath tub.”

Y/N pressed a kiss against his neck. “Always so dramatic.”

Azriel didn’t respond. His only reaction to her words was a series of loud moans, now not afraid to conceal them. “Y/N, I am so close, my love.”

“Touch yourself,” Y/N whispered.

Azriel didn’t need to be told twice as he released his grip from the side of the bath and wrapped a hand around his cock and began to pump it up and down fast. The sounds came tumbling out of his mouth and Y/N did not want to silence them but she couldn’t help herself as she placed her lips over his. They were soft and fit perfectly against hers.

With his other hand, Azriel reached for her and laced his fingers through her hair, deepening the kiss. Y/N only pulled away for a brief moment. “Come for me, my love.”

With only a few more pumps of his cock and an added pressure on the sensitive parts of his wings, Azriel came panting against Y/N’s mouth. He pressed his lips against hers, craving the feeling once more. Y/N held onto him tightly until his high was over.

Azriel slumped against the bath and further into Y/N’s arms. He slowly caught his breath back and opened his eyes.

Y/N smiled at him. “Hi.”

Azriel smiled back. “Hi.”

Y/N pecked his lips. “As much as I don’t want to leave you right now, I think you should finish up here and meet me in the bedroom because we certainly have a few things to discuss.”

“I think so too,” Azriel muttered.

Y/N pulled away from him, despite her not wanting to at all. Her pyjamas were soaked through but she did not care as she walked to the bathroom door. “There are some clothes just outside for you.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Azriel said.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” Y/N said before leaving the bathroom.

With a bright smile on her face, she walked down the short hall to her bedroom. She changed into a new, fresh set of pyjamas and waited for Azriel. It did not take long at all for the bathroom door to open and for footsteps to pad down the hall. The bedroom door was opened and Azriel stood in the doorway. He seemed to quickly dry off his hair as it was sticking up in every direction but Y/N only thought it made him look adorable.

“I love you,” Azriel said suddenly.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Az–”

“I know that this is sudden and I promise that it is not just because you gave me a great orgasm in a bathtub, but I love you. I am in love with you and I have been for a long time,” he admits.

Y/N patted the bed next to her and Azriel walked over and slid under the covers, facing Y/N. “You love me?”

“I do,” Azriel said, reaching out to caress her cheek. “I know I am not good at voicing my feelings and all of this seems so sudden but I need to tell you. We can’t pretend what just happened in the bathroom didn’t just happen and continue with our friendship like normal. I love you, Y/N. If you don’t feel the same way, I understand but I cannot go another day without telling you.”

“Az,” Y/N said, her eyes full of love. “I love you too.”

“You do?” Azriel asked, somewhat shyly.

“Of course I do,” Y/N said. “I thought I only loved you as a friend. But recently I began to notice that friends don’t normally imagine what their friends' lips feel like against theirs. Friends don’t realise that they have always had an attraction to thief friends and find them absolutely breathtaking.” Azriel blushed. “Friends don’t act like a couple. Let’s face it Azriel, we have been acting like a couple for years, minus the kissing.”

Azriel let out a quiet laugh. “I know.”

Y/N smiled before letting out a yawn. “Now as much as I want to continue this conversation, why don’t we go to sleep.”

Azriel smirked before pressing his lips against her jaw. “I thought I could repay you for what you did for me in the bathroom.”

Y/N pulled away from Azriel’s kissed and gently held his face between her hands. “Azriel, as much as I love you, and it feels so good to say that, I was trying to sleep before you arrived here. And if I’m being honest I would rather get a great night sleep with your arms wrapped around me than an earth shattering orgasm right now. Perhaps that can wait until tomorrow. But right now, all I want is to fall asleep in the arms of my love.”

Azriel smiled and pressed a sweet kiss against her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/N said, nuzzling her head into his chest.

Underneath the scent of the soaps Y/N had leant him, she could still smell the familiar scent of Azriel and with that she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

#acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff #azriel smut #acotar

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soobnny · 21 hours

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invisible string theory — yang jungwon. acquaintances to lovers. high school au. slice of life.

inspired by that one line from glue song, “you’ve been hiding in plain sight, then appeared” (2.6k words)

The problem with having 60 students per classroom is you were bound to make a stranger to at least thirty of them. And for someone who doesn’t talk much, it was like meeting half of your classmates for the first time every morning.

You kept close to your circle of friends, just like everyone else did, and kept in mind where to make eye contact when your homeroom teacher announces a group activity. You liked working with the same group of people, so you held a pretty stable and balanced routine at school. Always sitting at the same seat, always staying in the classroom with your packed lunch during break time, and always riding the same train home.

Though, from time to time, a few anomalies would pose themselves to your perfectly lined scheduled—the rain always increased the time it would take to get to school, a predetermined group stands as a barrier between the people you know you work well with, and apparently Mr. Snuffles and his paws that had messed up your alarm clock. The culprit lays on your bed as you hurriedly rush around your room to get to school in time. You’re sure you could make it if the station followed the schedule of when the trains would depart. Preparing your lunch, however, would be impossible, and you would just have to stop by a convenience store before attending homeroom.

You disliked the canteen. Students lived off of crowds, an impossibly long line, and an even poorer selection of food than what you can find in a convenience store. It would take half of your break just to get food, and the rest of the half eating. It’s better when you can hold time in your hands in the classroom.

Opening the door to the convenience store, it was almost a relief to find it almost empty, save for a few students who were probably either getting breakfast, lunch, or a snack. When it was your turn to have your meal checked out, it takes you about 10 seconds to realize you might’ve left your wallet at home. And it takes even faster to confirm when you rummage through your bag and come out empty-handed.

Damn you, Mr. Snuffles.

You realize you didn’t spare the time to double check your bag when your sister had borrowed it over the weekend and probably put some of your essentials out.

Burden raced and dropped down your shoulders as you struggled to explain to the cashier if she could disregard scanning it in the first place. Though, you aren’t given ample time to get your thoughts across when money is handed to her from next to you.

He looks familiar, the boy with the short and a little disheveled hair. It looks pretty, falling over his forehead, like he came off a 90s magazine. He gives you a look, enigmatic almost, though smiling as he puts his wallet back in his bag.

“Thank you.” You spoke shyly, though he only grins, showing off his perfect white teeth.

“You’re (Name), right? I’m Jungwon, we’re in the same class.”

So that’s why he looked familiar. The only thing you knew about him was that he had a dog, had introduced him on the first day of class with a photo. Everything else, you learned from those around you; he was smart, taking most of the offered advanced subjects, he had multiple senior friends whom he eats with at the canteen, and he was apparently a great dancer.

“Ohh, I knew you looked familiar.” Your mouth parts in recognition. “Thanks again for saving my ass back there. My cat had messed up my alarm and I left my wallet so today’s just been a disaster so far.” You laugh a little at the tangent your schedule had gone off to.

“You have a cat?” Jungwon’s eyes light up, and you instantly pull out your phone to show him a picture. “This is Mr. Snuffles.”

“Mr. Snuffles.” He repeats softly, smiling down at your phone as he shows you his own lockscreen.

“Now I feel inclined to introduce Maeumi.”

“Your Maltese puppy, right?” He watches as you dip your head down to look at his phone, grin spread out prettily as you coo quietly.

“How’d you know?”

“You introduced him back during first day, I think.” Jungwon looks genuinely surprised that you remember, mouth dropping before he nods his head with the same soft smile on his lips.

“Well, since we’re heading the same way, do you wanna walk together?”

For an answer, you grin up at him and say a brisk “sure”, matching your footsteps with his as you walk up the stairs of your school together.

Conversation flies easy with Jungwon, almost too easy as you talk for the entirety of the short walk to your classroom. You discuss about your poorly functioning lockers, your plans for the upcoming Christmas break, and complain alike about the multitude of projects assigned to you for the first half of the school year.

“How’s your Biology project holding up?” The instant groan that leaves your lips triggers a laugh from Jungwon. Though, he should’ve been able to predict your reaction after previously just complaining about Ms. Hwang and her 20-page paper about cell division.

“I swear my head’s gonna explode if I read one more article about mitosis and meiosis.”

You whine as you walk through another flight of stairs, and his laughter continues to mix with your light-hearted complaints.

“No, same. My eyes were falling out while I was working on page 12 yesterday.” Jungwon’s hand brushes against yours as a group of students run by you, pressing his shoulder against yours and holding out an arm to make sure they don’t bump into you.

“Well, they look like they were in a hurry.” He only chuckles before peeling himself away from you. He gives you his full attention. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You laugh, and he smiles at the confirmation.

“I can’t believe this is the first time we’re actually talking.” There’s disbelief in his tone as he pushes the doors to your homeroom open. “This was fun.”

“I’ll pay you back tomorrow!”

“There’s really no need.”

The bell interrupts your conversation, and you walk to your respective seats just as your homeroom teacher slips into the classroom.

You don’t meet Jungwon for another month.

After that conversation, you had both returned to the routines you had set for yourselves, and you go back to treating that day as a single anomaly in your perfectly curated schedule. Though, now you find your ears perk up at the slightest mention of his name.

Similarly, Sunoo’s confused by his friend’s sudden interest when your name had slipped past his mouth. It was something Sunoo had said in the passing, you were simply a side character in the story he’s narrating, yet Jungwon seems to put an awful amount of attention to that part of his story.

“Are you even listening to me?” A whine leaves Sunoo’s lips.

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t know you were in the same club as (Name).”

“You know her?”

“Yeah… well not really. She’s my classmate, but we aren’t close.”

“Sounds to me like you have a crush.” He smirks, taking a bite out of his lunch before looking at Jungwon with an accusing eye.

“I do not have a crush. I was just asking!” Defensive. Just like he always is when he’s getting caught for lying. Jungwon knows better than to hide something from Sunoo.

“I literally just said (Name) passed me a paintbrush and you’re acting like she’s the main character of my story which, by the way, is ME.”

“I don’t have a crush.” Jungwon grumbles.

“Look, there she is right now.”

Jungwon’s head whips at an impossible rate, an impressive distance over time that Isaac Newton might as well have made a fourth law of motion. His head is craned, scanning over the cafeteria in search of you before a pin drops in his head and he turns back in shame at having been fooled by Kim Sunoo of all people.

Sunoo laughs, and Jungwon drops his head on the cafeteria table in embarrassment. “Wipe that stupid smile off your face.”

Though, despite Jungwon’s sudden interest, it still takes almost thirty days after your chance encounter for you to meet again at the same convenience store. It was another day to grab a small breakfast from the quaint store, and it looks like you had the same idea when the bell rings and Jungwon spots you already in line.

“Do you mind if I could wait in line with you? It’s getting pretty long.”

Your head turns at the sudden voice. Soft tones as always.

“Jungwon, hi! Sure.” You allow him to stand with you in line, and he curiously peeks down at the meal in your hands. The same lunch bowl from a month ago. “Don’t you eat lunch in the classroom? Did Mr. Snuffles do something again?”

“You can say that.” You chuckle. It’s endearing that he remembers.

And just like a month ago, you walk to class together. He waits for you by the door, only resuming his walk when you’ve caught up to him. “So the Biology paper?”

His eyes flicker to you when you laugh.

“Almost done, finally.”

“So, your head didn’t explode?”

“Thankfully not. I think I have Mr. Snuffles to thank for that. He enjoys just putting a paw on my hand as I work, though he is quite distracting. We even got him this little laptop toy so he’d stop stepping on mine.”

Jungwon smiles. “I’ve read about that somewhere, how cats imitate what you do or somewhere along those lines.”

“Does Maeumi do anything silly like that?”

“Well, it might’ve actually been my fault.” He holds onto the paper bag with your meals, fiddling with the paper. “I thought it would be cool to teach him to get the newspaper by walking her to the door and giving her a treat when she’d carry it back. Long story short, one morning, I found every paper from the street.”

You shake when you laugh, it’s something Jungwon has noticed. It’s breathy and full as you picture it in your head, and Jungwon brightens up at being able to make you laugh.

That morning, you learn of Jungwon’s own routine, just like you. Every morning, he walks to school and accompanies some kids from his neighborhood, dropping them off at the preschool before heading to school. It’s why he doesn’t have time to eat breakfast at home. He plays with Maeumi a little bit too, running around with her in the sun despite having just woken up. At school, he sits at the front and minds his own business, and he eats at the cafeteria to accompany his friends. It’s the only free time they share together.

It’s nice talking to him. You think it might be the first time in a while that you’re talking to someone outside your small circle, and it’s a little refreshing to be offered a fresh sight of the world around you. He thinks differently, the type of person that has something to offer for your personal growth, the type that casts a life-long impression.

So, as you near your classroom, your shoulders drop at having to say goodbye to him again.

You think it’ll take another thirty days to talk to him, but it turns out, as insane as Ms. Hwang is, you might owe a bit to her for pairing you and Jungwon up to do an errand for her. It’s something about the coming Science Camp your school holds, and the need to get signatures from a few teachers. You don’t know why she’s letting two high school students do her job for her, but you comply because you have no choice.

“The school always plans disastrous events. I remember our Freshman day, when they let us play those games, that was a whole thing in itself.” You mumble, holding onto the piece of paper and scanning over the list of faculty offices you have to visit. So far, you’ve successfully gotten five signatures out of twelve.

“I remember that! I played in the balloon game, and I was partnered up with a girl. My friends did not stop teasing me for weeks.”

“Wait, I played in the balloon game too.” You look up at him, eyes bright as you recall the memory.

“Don’t tell me.”

“Were you wearing a black shirt?”

“I was! What the hell!” He pulls out his phone to look for a photo of that day, scrolling through his phone before shoving the screen to your face. “That’s me!”

“Oh my god.”

You lock your eyes to his, and the two of you fall in shared laughter at the chances. You would’ve guessed the possibility falls at less than 1% considering the amount of freshmen students at the time, and the thought that Jungwon had been tied to you by some invisible string on that day is something so enchanting.

As if, since that day, you’d been tied together and were slowly inching closer and closer until this very moment years later.

“I can’t believe it was you! My friends couldn’t let me catch a break when I caught you before you could fall face flat.”

“Look, I’m not the most coordinated person. You put me in a game where people are out to pop the balloon tied around my ankle and you’re basically asking me to fall over my own feet.”

“But we won, didn’t we? Wasn’t I a good protector?”

“You were alright.” You tease, and he gasps dramatically in response.

“Go ask for the rest of the signatures by yourself.”

“I was kidding! I was kidding! You were the greatest protector of them all, I couldn’t have asked for a better partner.” Jungwon smirks, though, he feels like he’s about to melt in a puddle.

“That’s better.”

The rest of the time gathering signatures are spent in conversation and laughter. Jungwon would’ve hated staying behind to do more work, would’ve complained about it in the group chat with his friends, but he finds himself enjoying it because he’s with you. It would’ve been hell if it wasn’t with you.

“I can’t believe we’ve talked more this past month than the last couple years.” You hold onto the straps of your backpack as you leave school together. The sun is starting to set, and the impatient moon peeks from afar.

Jungwon is almost open-mouthed when the sun hits your face like that. When you look back at him because he’s suddenly falling behind, eyebrow lifted with a smile on your face. He’s sure you know your hypnotizing effect, and you still have the nerve to act oblivious about it.

He takes a step closer.

“Do you maybe wanna grab a bite? It’s getting late, and I’m a little hungry.” His words come out hitched, and he’s punching himself over the very obvious nervousness in his voice–as if the way he looks at you isn’t obvious enough to how he feels.

“I’d like that.”

A few months later, Jungwon would ask you to be his and Mr. Snuffles would get all the treats he could possibly want for altering the course of your routine and allowing you to bump into Jungwon.

“Babe, you seriously need to stop leaving your wallet. I’m starting to think this is all a ploy so I’ll keep paying for your meals.”

“Sorry.” You smile sheepishly.

“I was kidding. I may have lost a couple won, but I got you out of it.”

“Are you telling me I’m worth just a couple won?”

“What? No, wait! That’s not what I meant!”

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saerins · 1 day

Text

ᯓ ᝰ RIGHT HERE .ᐟ — touya todoroki

touya x female reader. content tags modern au, childhood sweetheart!touya, both are working adults, making out, mentions of infidelity/murder, he’s a tease. word count 1.7k

ᯓ notes .ᐟ haha can you tell i love touya too much rn ? just getting back into writing so have some of my touya :) thanks to any of you who read this <3

“touya, you’re gonna make me late for work tomorrow,” you whine, pouting as he wins you in yet another round of super smash bros. (and hence you’d have to stay up and continue playing at his behest.)

beside you, touya smirks, rows of pearly white visible while he clearly enjoys tormenting you. “weren’t you the one who said you needed a distraction?”

you grumble as you take the couch pillow and hold it over your face, groaning in frustration. touya’s right; you’d called him right after dinner, practically forced him to come after you figured out that you’re actually not as strong you thought and you’re actually still really upset that your ex cheated on you.

it’s only pathetic because it’s already been a couple of months and you’re still wallowing over it somehow.

“you know, i bet all that frustration will go away if you just let me kill that fucker,” touya tells you, flicking your forehead as leans forward, yanking the cushion off your face.

unamused, you deadpan at him. “yeah? then what am i gonna do when you’re in jail, huh?”

touya snickers, “aww, what? can’t handle being without me?”

in a strange way, your honest answer is definitely not. you’ve known touya forever. ever since you were five and your families connected at a preschool event. ever since your friend fuyumi introduced you to her brother. ever since touya confided in you how much he hated his father.

fast forward more than a decade later and you’re both sitting in your apartment, in a different state than either of your families, still as close as you were when you were kids.

you glare at touya, rolling your eyes before scrunching your nose and smirking at him. “actually, go ahead, i’ll go find myself a better guy while you rot in the cell.”

your best friend scoffs, cocking a brow and looking like he’s offended. “i off someone for you and you don’t marry me immediately? the fuck is wrong with you?”

the shit-eating grin that dawns on his face immediately after makes your heart skip a beat. yeah, you’ve always found him attractive, maybe even had a crush on him back in high school, but he’d always had girls after girls, and somewhere along the way you learned to stuff those flimsy emotions back down.

until you remember that he’s been single for a while now, and the fact that you’re both working adults with all the freedom in the world.

fuck, you really shouldn’t go back there.

“haha, funny,” you try to wave it off sarcastically. “says the one who told his ex that he just sees me as a little sister.”

he laughs, leaning back against the couch, a hand behind his head, abs sticking out from the edge of his shirt. it takes you a second to rein yourself in, not wanting to get teased relentlessly by him if you get caught staring.

“hey, she was getting jealous of me spending so much time with you! what was i supposed to say?”

yes, you’re aware. most of them were. most of the time you never told touya about any of that; of how his girlfriends were coming up to you, all insecure about your friendship and asking if you could back off. that was the most common thing among all his relationships: the girls’ pleas for you to keep a distance.

you did… the first few times.

and after his fifth relationship, you realised that touya would always pull you back close. would always end up breaking up with them if your friendship is causing them too much worry.

“you didn’t have to say anything, maybe you should’ve just kept your distance, you know? since most of them seemed to have a problem with it,” you comment, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, though even you don’t believe yourself.

a life without touya is unimaginable for you. even if you can’t really say the same for him.

touya sighs, shifting in his position before ultimately putting an arm around you, pulling you close. he smells like your soap and his hair against your face tickles.

he’s always like this; always touchy, always close. recently he’s been more than usual, coming over and sleeping the night (you never did anything physical!), chasing other guys away at the club because they’re not good enough for you.

and when he’s like that, you think maybe there’s no harm in letting those long-lost feelings flow back.

it’s dangerous.

he’s always like this. always way too much for you to handle. and yet you can’t live without him.

and then he does something he’s never done before.

you feel his lips on your temple, and you hear the chuckle reverberating from his throat. his left arm around you holds you tight, not that you’re running anywhere—you’re pretty sure you’re frozen stiff from the shock.

did that really happen?

“how can i do that when you’re the only one i want?”

you’re sure that’s his voice. it can’t be anyone else’s. but you’re not sure if you believe him. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

slowly, you turn to face him, expecting him to wear that smug grin and tease you for being so gullible but it never comes. instead, you’re greeted with his half-lidded eyes, blue pupils staring at your lips like he’s hypnotised, his thumb caressing your lower lip from left to right like he’s trying to memorise all the grooves.

it’s so soft that you barely recognise your own voice when it comes, “touya, kiss me.”

and maybe he’s always wanted to, because he doesn’t miss a beat. the second you open your mouth, he’s giving you what you asked for, his tongue prying your lips open and he tastes just like the warm in winter mornings, like the comfort people always dream about.

mint. you can taste the sweet from when he ate it right before he beat you in the game. you can feel the cold on the tip of your nose from when you brush against the piercings on his nostrils. you can feel him carry you onto his lap, feel his hands wrapping around your waist. you can feel his heartbeat under his chest, under your palm, almost as erratic as your own.

were you really just upset over someone else?

every relationship you’d been sad over suddenly didn’t seem to make sense anymore. not when touya’s right here, lips locked with yours and telling you more with his kiss than you’ve ever heard from his words.

by the time you pull away, both of you are breathless, his hand on your cheek, lips softly brushing over your own like he can’t bear to be away even for just a second. you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, half overwhelmed and half confused.

“fuck, did we really just—”

“shh,” you hush him, putting a finger on his lips, suddenly embarrassed. your foreheads are still pressed together, and you can’t see it but he’s admiring your face, holding himself back from just kissing you even more.

touya moves your finger away. he whispers your name in the most gentle tone you’ve ever heard, “does that mean you feel the same?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, tongue-tied and still straddling your best friend on the couch. you’re just a single impulsive action away from going all the way.

dangerous.

pulling back even further, you’re about to make a break for your bedroom when touya pulls you back, making sure you face him.

“no running this time,” he tells you, voice raspy and his eyes flicking from your eyes to your nose and your lips but mostly your lips. “i want you,” he whispers, and the minute you lock gazes, the answer has never been more clear to you.

“i want you too, touya,” you answer, both excited and afraid but he never lets you harp on things too much because he’s already kissing you silly, barely letting you breathe—you don’t have to guess with him; he wants you so desperately you can feel it in his actions.

“touya, we should stop,” you whine, knowing that this might be going way too quick yet you want it all the same.

touya shakes his head, big hands slipping under your shirt and squeezing your waist. “no, don’t wanna stop,” he whispers into your mouth.

he’s about to pull your shirt over your head when the loud shrill of his phone interrupts. he would’ve tossed it to the side if you hadn’t taken it and insisted he should take it. it’s from shoto, after all. (he doesn’t call often, it’s a complicated relationship.)

grumbling, touya leans back, keeping your thighs in place so you can’t move away. he’s smirking at you as he answers, “shoto, what is it?”

you can’t hear his brother over the phone. you can only guess snippets of the conversation from touya’s end.

“huh.”

“what for?”

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.”

when he finally puts it down, he pulls you close by the chin, a glint of mischief in his grin. “get ready, doll.”

“huh? for what?”

touya gives you a peck on the lips. “family’s visiting, a surprise or whatever. they’re already in the city.”

you blink, praying he’s not being serious and wishing it’s not what you’re thinking. “okay, have fun!”

“and where do you think you’re going?” touya laughs, pulling you back down after you barely got back up.

“go spend some time with them, it’ll be fun.”

“oh i’m sure it’ll be fun,” he smirks, typing something into his phone and sending the message before you can sneak a peek.

you’re almost too scared to ask. but you do. “and why’s that?”

touya chuckles, thinking you’re way too stubborn, playing dumb even if it’ll kill you. but he guesses it’s fine if he has to spell it out for you. “because i wanna re-introduce you.”

“wait, what do you mean?”

with a gentle smile and a poke on your forehead, he looks you in the eyes. “i’m gonna introduce them to my future wife.”

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erwinsvow · 2 days

Note

omg omg I have a request, jealous!reader being “jealous” of bsf!rafe for bringing another girl over and taking her to his room, like reader was used to it but had enough because of her crush on him

yess omg this w/ jealous kook trio reader !! <3 shes a lil bitchy too hooray !

you think you'd had just about enough of this.

after months and months of being rafe's friend, you thought you were used to the seemingly endless flow of girls that constantly wandered in and out of tannyhill, the druthers, even his truck.

in fact, you'd never felt any specific type of way about it. rafe was your friend, and him hooking up with every girl on this side of the island used to be a couple of things—mostly gross, a little disturbing, sort of annoying. the girls he hooked up with were always clingers, and rafe sometimes would abandon plans with his friends to get laid.

which was completely normal. you wouldn't expect anything less from a guy like him—until you started to get mad about it.

you can't pinpoint when it happened, but somewhere in between the two back-to-back dates of yours rafe crashed, that one guy at the beach party who was happily chatting you up one moment and gone by the next, and a cute boy's number that had somehow been deleted off your phone, you started to get annoyed.

yes, rafe seemed to have some kind of problem with you dating. yes, he hadn't ever said as much. no, you didn't really have any proof proving your suspicions. but something was going on that you couldn't quite pinpoint, and then, before you knew it, something was going on with you.

when had it become so unbearable to watch rafe with one of his girls? you used to turn to kelce and top and make faces, pretend to hurl watching them in the distance. you used to cuss rafe out on the phone for ditching dinner or the movies or a sunset boat ride for some girl he just met. you used to think it was funny, not... painful.

so now, watching rafe chat up some girl when the boy you had just been flirting with was nowhere to be found, you can't understand why you feel like this.

like your throat is closing up watching rafe lean in to hear her better. like you want thunder to strike this girl so she gets away from him. like everything else in the world has just disappeared, with just you, your best friend, and your best friend's new girl remaining.

"are you fucking deaf?" kelce snaps at you, and you finally turn your head away from the pair.

"shut up," you snap right back. "i wasn't paying attention. what?"

"we gotta take this fucking bum home. you coming or not?" you turn, expecting a fully drunk topper laying on a couch or passed out on the floor somewhere. instead he turns to glare at kelce.

"you're a dick, you know that? no really, kelce-"

"why are you acting like there's a stick up your asses, huh? what's going on?"

"oh, i don't know," topper says sarcastically, and kelce joins in with a snicker. "maybe because we've been talking to you for a fucking hour and you've been ignoring us the entire time."

oh. you hadn't realized you'd been so oblivious.

"if you're that worried he's gonna go home with her, then why-"

"shut up!" you say again, with the words coming out loudly, in a rush. some heads turn to look at you. your friends laugh, but you can't join in. you huff out a breath, jaw clenched and perhaps a touch more angry than you'd thought you were. "why would i care if he went home with her?"

"i don't know and i'm way too drunk for this. you coming or not?" top says, though kelce stares at you much too knowingly.

you glance back—though you really shouldn't—watching rafe and the girl laughing at something together. anger trickles over your skin, seeping into your body all too quickly, making everything burn inside you. they start walking up the staircase together. you turn back before your head blows straight off.

"no. rafe said he's driving me home. so he's fucking driving me home."

kelce and topper laugh but you can't focus on that right now. you head up the stairs, though rafe and the girl are out of sight. you even catch sight of the boy you had been talking to earlier—and he turns and sprints in the other direction when you meet him eye.

even more angry, determined that rafe should get a taste of his own medicine tonight, you run up the stairs, pounding on closed doors and opening them up. you catch two couples that you really wish you hadn't before you finally get to the room that rafe is in.

of course he's in the master. prick.

it takes two slams with your fists and one attempt to shake the doorknob so hard you think it's gonna fall off for him to open up.

"what the fuck are you-" rafe stops the second he sees you. "kid, what the hell?"

you open your mouth, shoulders tense and face twisted in anger, ready to give him an earful when you look back, seeing the girl sitting on the bed and rafe with his hair a little messed up.

you're not just angry anymore. you're infuriated.

"sorry to interrupt," you say, looking at the girl waiting in the back. "you said you'd drive me home. i'm ready to go home."

"kid i'm a little busy here-"

"yeah? i was busy too. i was talking to a nice guy but after thirty seconds with you he won't even look at me anymore."

"that doesn't sound like-"

"well it is. he was gonna take me home, but you interfered. so it's your problem now."

"can you just-" interrupting rafe again, though you know you shouldn't, you butt back in to finish his sentence before he can.

"no, i'm not waiting five minutes so you can finish up."

"excuse me?" rafe makes a face like he can't believe what you just said.

you look back at the girl.

"sorry, sorry." rafe relaxes for a second. "two minutes."

he closes the door, and you hear him say something you can't really make out. a second later, he comes out and shuts the door behind him. grabbing your wrist, he leads you out of the house and back to his truck, and it's not until you're sitting in the passenger seat that he speaks again.

"you wanna tell me what the fuck that was about?"

#i reuse the same tropes and ideas everytime im so sorry haha #not proofread sorryyy #kook trio reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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theastrical · 2 days

Text

genshin men confessing their feelings for you

diluc, kaeya, alhaitham, zhongli, childe x reader

DILUC

diluc has always been keeping an eye on you for these past few months, either from having you as his now co worker at the tavern or…just by you existing. Not to mention that you guys are best friends and have been caught in the middle of everything in everywhere back when you guys were young…so working with him as your boss feels weird-although it doesn’t hide your excitement to be with him.

You won’t wonder or bother, since it hasn’t given you an answer around certain question that pop ups. So you continued your job per usual-You’re currently serving some customer and cleaning the cups, also the cigars bar that has been rusty since the dawn of man by this point. Diluc is beside you, making mocktails and cocktails for the rest of the customer.

Later-“Can we talk for a moment, outside..?” He whisper while you’re in the middle of cleaning the last cup; your head immediately charmed up by his question. His eyes look at yours, deeply-memorising yours, Hoping to get your spare minute. “Sure! What’s up?”, your reply seems to be a turn on, his shoulder gone straight and he looks more lifelike than before.

He went outside from the tavern and look at you, straight up, no talk, just…dreaming, wondering if you would ever say yes to him. “Look, it’s a bad timing but i..just couldn’t help it…” he paused. Looking at your eyes one more time. “….would you be delighted if i called you mine..?” He asked you nervously-you know that voice-he’s scared of rejection. And you’re scared if he actually loves you back…because you do-you realise, you loved him even tenfold than how younger you would..and with some pause between you both-your voice a bit tender, shaky, and scared. “Yes, i would love to diluc..”

KAEYA

Kaeya has always been such a teaser. You guys meet each other ever since you joined the knights of favonious-not as a knight though, you thought that’ll be too much of a hassle, but as a secretary. It’s not the best job, but they paid handsomely-with a burden as thick as a law book.

Kaeya would come and play, just visiting you in your office deliberately-searching for your antics to play with. At some point, it’ll be your…feelings or favorite things-but that’s okay, you always tolerate kaeya. You’ve never rejected him. Because deep down, you enjoyed being kaeya’s….play buddy-no, more than that.

Before going home, kaeya would usually play or spend time with you, especially when it’s raining-that’s the opposite for today. No sight of him. Just..plain old looking chair with nobody on that view. You prepare the files back on the shelf until you suddenly heard the creak of the door being pushed. “shit i’m wet from the rain…urgh…now the flowers are we—“ when he saw you all confused-he immediately excuse himself to “cough”-to restart as per his dictionary.

“My bad…uhm…soooooo are you going ho-“ “no” “oh ok sorry uhm…right..let me just get into it.” He immediately get to you, with his body all wet and his hair looking like a shrivelled wet cat, he gets the wet flower to your chest and “i like it better if you’re mine, so please take the flower if you’re willing to be one..” he smiles like a child, an innocent child that doesn’t know how all of this flutters your heart cohesively. So you take his flower and nod with a small smile…”sure capt..” he replied with a small peck on your cheek. “thanks cutie”

ALHAITHAM

alhaitham knows you well-he hopes you do as well. Since he has been preparing a certain sentence of asking you to be his for almost 5 days now. He’s nervous-which is weird for a guy who can fight as if his rent with kaveh has been due. But alhaitham is alhaitham, this man’s pocker face means the world is in calm-but internally, HIS WORLD is in torture from all of the overthinking session he has of you.

Today is your first preparation of your last project of the semester and you’re currently trying to reach out to your professor about the project you’ve made in hope of an approval-which turn out to be alhaitham’s agenda to persuade you softly but surely-by asking the professor to immediately get you an approval-you sure did get one just by having him near you-which is great but at the same time, your heart is on cloud nine just by having him help you directly; which also means that alhaitham’s agenda is working.

When you were off dreaming-He immediately holds your palm-looking at your eyes then-“follow me..” you both run upstair as he take your hand in his. Gently overlapping, in order to save place. After you both arrived, He suddenly gives you…something related to your last project, the analysis and journalism you needed.

“Thought you might need it…also..” he pauses for a moment before he takes your hand again. Gently cupping it. “If you need me more, then just be mine”..he swiftly says it, finally the nervousness has long gone and now enter the anxiety-waiting for your— “i need you everytime at this moment alhaitham, thank you and…sure…l-let’s be together..!” Your optimistic voice break his raging anxiety.

ZHONGLI

being his tea partner is so much more than a privilege, it’s a blessing by the gods. To give such a man to your pawn, to have that man listen and talk to you whilst you just enjoy the sight. He would always serves you the cup of tea first despite being the older one in this friendship-yet here he is, trying to serve your third cup of tea today.

You both are currently playing cards-this time, unlike any other card games you played before, he makes a challenge, the one who win will have to spoilt out some questions to the loser. “Are you fine with such a rule?” He asked, his voice luring you into his fine demeanor just like that and you wished every morning you’ll hear him greet you. “of course, as long as there’s no money related game, since i’m the epitome of broke”-you joke. He laughs quietly. “Surely not, that’s against the law and i would rather be arrested with a criminal, not a friend.”

You chuckled, he has a humor of an old man but his body is as fresh as a youngster-he’s weird and you wishes he can be more weirder when you’re near…a sign of being comfortable. He shuffles the card and gives it to you. You both played quite slowly, enjoying the pace as you both give each other some comments. “How come you’re choosing that card [name]…” he chuckles. “Why not! It’s my deck of cards..” …”oh? Hahaha..a bit feisty are we?” He pauses and-“done, i win.”

You were shocked. That man easily beat you as if you’re just a mosquito that happened to be crushed by his own hand. You’re a bit confused-at some point you can only sighed, until he starts the conversation for the challenge. “say..i would like to have a partner-a relationship partner, somebody who i…enjoy the company of..” he explains it as your heart drops knowing he’s about to announce his own crush which is in her mind-not her-never her. “And i think it’s you, [name], would you like to accompany me and be mine perchance?” He says that softly and with a smile. Suddenly your heart feels like it has just popped out. “Yes please..?” He hears that and laughs…“Hahah no needd for please, thank you, i love you..”

CHILDE

you’re a nurse who-somehow become childe’s caretaker. He struggles on keeping himself intact so he would always need your help on medicating him at certain points, visiting your clinic especially after breaking his bones or bruising up his knees after fight.

So every single day, in hopes of both of you meeting each other, there some certain wishes you guys can meet outside of being a nurse and outside of being a fatui who continues to suffer through their workloads. But childe doesn’t want to just meet you, he wants to be WITH you. It’s obvious enough for his co workers. He wants more than meeting you every single day in hope of you medicating him, he just wants you to be there, to tell him “get well soon” with love and not in regards of your passion.

This thought lingers upon him even in a heated battle, but one thing for sure, he will survive this, even with a huge scratch, he will survive in order to confess his feelings rightfully. He was stuck between death and small chance of survival at this point, but childe is fully convinced, he will survive for the sake of you or else he’ll curse himself.

He did. He finally did it. Although watching you cry over his body is not something he would ever like to memorise..but it’s the part where he realised, you care for him way more than he thinks. So without further-ado, not wanting to lose his consciousness after everything, he said it right to your face, “i love you, i really do, i survive this….for us.”

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garagepaperback · 3 days

Note

What are your favorite drarry fics?

oh. ooooooooooooh oh oh.

here are my staples:

draco, the magic dragon - libbydrew a fic i first read on livejournal (showing off the varnish of my casket here) that i thought about regularly for the almost two decades i fell out of fandom. canon to me tbh. libby invented my draco rubric: proud lil showboat even when everything around him has gone to rancid shit, sarcastic and aloof personality as a poor facade to distract from the big ol' gaping well of hurt.

Potter took a great breath, then let it out slowly – a low whistle between his teeth. "Malfoy, I had no idea. I thought—" "Why are you here?" Draco cut him off before the idiot embarrassed them both. Their shared past was water under the bridge – even if Draco had drowned in it.

nightingale - michi_the_killer

another back-in-my-day fav, even though i can only stand to read half of it. actually even thinking about it is making me stare off in a distance for upwards of three minutes. this one i would hand off wrapped in about a million miles of caution tape. + also a huge fan of michi's gory veela fic.

It was better than fighting, Harry thought, although sometimes he still wanted to rip into Malfoy, to hurt him. Other days, he thought, it was better than anything.

rookie moves - peu_a_peu

what can i say that hasn't already been said - peu is a MASTER. if you somehow know who i am but haven't read this, reassess your life choices through professional means but not until after you dive in.

“Feels kinda big,” Malfoy said, smirking. “For a guy your height.” “My height is average,” Harry said, although he was undeniably glaring upward at Malfoy’s face when they stood so close together. “And it is kinda big.”

stately homes of wiltshire - waspabi another one that crept into my heart and made a home. hard to choose between this and waspabi's other drarry fic, but there's something about the decrepit manor that just does it for me. a perfect harry and draco, perfect soft reaching towards each other.

Draco smiled and dragged Potter from the shop before he could charm any more elderly ladies with his unkept, take-care-of-me-I’m-confused-and-have-nice-shoulders aesthetic. Once outside in the drizzle, he realised he still had his hand around Potter’s forearm. He yanked his hand back immediately.

i wake up falling - warmfoothills

warmfoothills :,) just reading this moniker makes me vision go soft around the edges. their writing has made me out loud, quietly say "oh," multiple times. the prose is darling, this story is such a brief, aching glance. it was also really hard to pick just one (flashback, warm nights i also go in for).

“I love you,” he says, unable to stop himself. Draco blinks, a barely-there flinch, like Harry’s taken a swing at him. “I know,” he says, still oblivious to the reference, oblivious to the way his words scoop right into the meat of Harry’s stupid, hopeful heart. “It’s not enough, is it?” Draco shakes his head. Above, the stars watch unfeelingly on.

the pure and simple truth - lettered no one does dialogue with the mastery lettered does. my GOD. my god. i feel like this fic is drarry perfectly distilled.

“What’s he going to be?” Blaise raised a brow. “Pardon?” “You said he says Hermione should be Minister, and all those other things. What does Malfoy think he should be?” There was something much like pity in Blaise’s eyes. “He thinks he should never, ever be forgiven for the things he’s done.” Harry felt ill. “That’s not fair.” “When has Draco ever been fair?” “I meant―” Harry swallowed hard. “That’s not right.” Blaise looked more pitying still. “When has Draco ever been right?”

far from the tree - aideomai

the writer i avoid talking about the most bc once i start i cannot physically restrain myself from going on about their beauty forever. i sat for forty-five solid minutes frowning, trying to choose between this one and in the hand. and dwelling. okay anyway. i keep a doc of quotes from fics that resonate and it's 50% aideomai.

Draco wondered what Potter thought of this day, in the future the twins came from. If he had told Ginny about it. If he had forgotten it. He couldn’t forget it, could he? It felt burned into Draco’s body already, a final point that he had been moving toward for years without knowing.

i could go on but i think seven is a nice solid number tyvm for this ask!

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fic rec

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les4elliewilliams · 18 hours

Text

Syrup.

making pancakes with Ellie ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)⁭ ⁭

cw/wc: 3.5k ! loser!ellie, dry humping, fingering + oral (e!receiving), kind of sub!ellie? oilin' her up 'cause pretty girls deserve special treatment. [not really mentioned because I rushed it towards the end.]

!!mdni!!

daily click・palestine masterpost・neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks.

Skipping classes with Ellie usually meant sleeping in and cuddling the whole morning, basking in the soft glow of your favorite movie or TV show. But not when she was ovulating and going feral over you. Ellie was perfect, such a fucking good girlfriend, never pressuring you into anything you didn’t feel like doing—but there were times when all you needed to do was hide from her. Especially when she was ovulating, it was as if she were reliving the raging hormones of puberty all over again.

What kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn’t help your girl when she most needed you? Letting her ride your fingers whenever she needed, her moans filling the room as you praised her sweetly, or letting her sit on your face for an hour straight until her body couldn’t take it anymore and you could barely breathe. You didn’t mind; in fact, you loved it.

She tasted so fucking good, and knowing she had gotten all wet over something as simple as a few words you’d said or some dumb shit she found utterly irresistible—even when you thought it was stupid—only made it better.

That particular morning, she woke up much earlier than you, her body already humming with need. The poor loser tried to wake you up for cuddles before classes, something you usually did daily before parting ways, but you didn’t budge. Her soft whispers and gentle shakes eventually turned into hungry kisses and wandering hands. Her breath was hot against your ear as she murmured how much she needed you, her fingers tracing the curve of your jawline.

But you still shooed her away, “Five more minutes,” you mumbled, but five minutes turned into an hour and then two. You were so sleep-deprived, burning the midnight oil on your schoolwork, that you wouldn’t even hear your alarm in the morning if it weren’t for Ellie. Patiently, she took time out of her morning to shake you like a cocktail until you finally woke up.

You could hear her sigh and huff, shifting around uncomfortably, perhaps bored. “So, you don’t want cuddles before class?” she asked, her voice tinged with disappointment. But you ignored her, too exhausted to respond. “Fine, whatever,” she muttered, slipping into a slightly pissy mood because you pushed her away every time she wrapped her arms around you and planted soft kisses on your neck to rouse or wake you.

“Ellie,” you grumbled, still half-asleep, “Let me sleep.”

“Wake upppp,” she drawled into the crook of your neck, her warm breath caressing your soft skin. “I wanna cuddle,” she repeated, pouting, though you couldn’t see it because your eyes remained stubbornly closed. Her desperation and neediness grew as she clung to you.

“Nooo—’s too hot for that,” you whined, scooting away from your girlfriend once again.

When you finally woke up on your own and suggested skipping classes together, she was more than excited at the idea. Of course, she didn’t complain. Why would she when she’d get to spend the whole morning with you?

Let’s say she had different intentions from yours. While you just wanted to sleep in and spend the whole day in your cozy apartment to relax, she stayed home with you hoping for morning sex—but she didn’t get it.

“Skip classes? Fuck yeah, I’m in,” she exclaimed excitedly, her arm hooking around your waist to drag you closer to her. “There are maaany more fun things we could do instead...” Her voice shifted from excited to teasingly sultry, her lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Hmm... like what?” you mumbled sleepily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Well, I could give you a massage,” she whispered, planting soft kisses into the crook of your neck, making their way up to your jawline. “Or we could make pancakes.”

She was a little disappointed when you picked pancakes over a massage, but you were so hungry that you didn’t even notice. You padded to the kitchen with her walking closely behind, her green eyes glued to your ass as she let out a sigh.

She was starving.

Ellie was usually never that blunt when it came to these kinds of things. You’d usually pick up on her body language, or she’d let you know subtly, always careful not to make you feel pressured. She was a gentlewoman, after all.

“Get the flour and the eggs. I’ll get the rest.” You instructed her quickly, bringing her back to reality and pulling her out of her thoughts. She quietly complied, gathering all the necessary ingredients and placing them on the white countertop in front of her. Meanwhile, you grabbed a bowl from one of the nearby cabinets.

“Okay,” You scooped up a handful of the fine white powder, your fingers brushing against the cool, smooth surface as you measured the exact amount needed. The powdery substance was light and fluffy, and its scent was faintly sweet as you poured it into the bowl. “Dry ingredients first,” you said out loud, mostly speaking to yourself.

You’ve always been terrible in the kitchen, managing to burn everything you touched or getting the ingredients completely wrong. Thankfully, Ellie had been there to help you improve over the years, guiding you through the basics and teaching you little tricks to make your cooking less disastrous.

“Mhm,” she hummed back almost proudly. You could feel her presence lingering behind you, her breath warm against your neck. Her hands rested on your hips, fingers tracing small, lazy circles. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, each touch sending a shiver down your spine. You could sense her frustration; her body pressed a little closer, making her need evident in every movement.

You started by pouring the powders into the bowl, but as you did, she began to tease you, planting soft, innocent kisses on all your sweet spots, making your breath hitch each time her lips met your skin.

“And then we add the wet ones…”

“Yeah, I know, I remember,” you said casually, trying to focus on mixing the different powders in the bowl. But Ellie’s attentions made concentrating difficult, her teasing kisses and soft touches getting the desired effect; she knew what she was doing.

“Can’t wait to taste your syrup on my tongue.” Her whispered words made your breath catch in your throat, and your stirring motions slowed in response. Her mouth was right by your ear, her breath warm and teasing against your flesh.

“Ellie.” With a frustrated huff, you scolded her, your wispy brows furrowing together as you tried to appear stern. You could feel her lips twitching in satisfaction at your reaction against your epidermis.

“What?” she asked, her voice full of false innocence. She pulled away from your neck, resting her chin on your shoulder as she watched you work on the pancake mix. “I meant the syrup that comes with pancakes.” Her voice shifted back to its usual playful tone as she spoke, her words casual and light-hearted. Her hands rested gently on your hips as she leaned against you from behind.

“Yeah, obviously.” You responded sarcastically, rolling your eyes at her comment. But you couldn’t help but suppress a small smirk that threatened to form on your face, grateful she couldn’t see your expression.

“We’ve gotta mix the dry and wet together, and then we’ve got the perfect…consistency,” The last word was an alluring melody whispered directly into your ear, her soft lips brushing against your neck ever so gently. One of her arms moved from your waist, her fingers trailing softly along your arm until they wrapped around the handle of the whisk in your hand, bringing your motion to a halt.

More kisses were pressed to the side of your neck, making you tilt your head to give her better access. Her tattooed arm was still wrapped around your waist, holding you close and rocking you slightly from side to side.

“Hmm—you’re distracting me.” You couldn’t help but sigh softly, surrendering to her damp smooches and touches. Despite your best efforts to maintain your composure, you felt your body melt like butter against hers, your muscles relaxing in response to her gentle ministrations.

“Still want to make pancakes instead of getting that massage? ’m good with my hands, y’know.” Her husky voice was like silk in your ear, rich and smooth. Every word that left her lips was soothing and comforting, her tone gentle and seductive, making your heart skip a beat. “You might need my touch more than you think…” Her hips ground gently against the plushness of your ass, a subtle motion that made your clit twitch.

You could feel the heat of her body pressing against you from behind as she continued to kiss and nibble on your neck. The sensation was soothing and arousing, making you lean into her embrace, your eyes closing blissfully as you surrendered to her attention. Lost in her kisses and nibbles on your neck, you suddenly remembered the pancakes you were mixing,

The whisk still clutched in your hand. With a reluctant huff, you shook yourself back to reality, forcing yourself out of the trance she had put you in.

“You’re such a fucking horndog.” you jokingly chided her, swatting at her hand as it crept toward your chest, but truth be told, you loved the attention. It was comforting knowing how much she wanted you, how much she needed you.

“Like you’re any better,” She let out an exaggerated scoff, her hand returned to your waist, joining the other one.

You added eggs and milk, intently stirring and mixing the pancake batter, when you suddenly felt her grind against you again. The sensation sent a thrill through you, and almost instinctively, you pushed your ass slightly into her, making her breath hitch.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, her hands gripping your hips as she guided your ass against her crotch.

“We’re supposed to be making pancakes,” you mumbled incoherently, letting her use your body to get off.

Ellie’s hands roamed your body with a growing urgency, her touch both gentle and demanding. She pressed herself closer, her breath hot against the back of your neck, the mixing bowl almost forgotten in your hands.

“But you feel so good,” she whispered, her voice low and husky, sending waves of desire coursing through your very core. Her lips brushed against your ear, planting soft kisses along your jawline, her fingers tracing the curve of your waist. “And I’m hungry for something else,” she purred, her cold hands slipping under your shirt, her touch making your nipples harden almost immediately. She moved against you, her hips creating a rhythm that left you yearning for more.

Despite your best efforts to focus on the bowl in your hands, you found yourself pressing into her embrace, “Ellie,” you uttered, barely recognizing your own voice, “we should really finish making breakfast.”

She scoffed, her voice tinged with a playful defensiveness. “You’re the one pushing your butt into me like a cat in heat!” Her breath was already starting to come in labored gasps. Her cheeks were a beautiful sight, flushed with a delicate rosy pink hue that complemented her complexion, although hidden from your view.

“That’s because you sound pretty,” you argued with a pout on your face, making her whimper at your words. She was so sensitive it was ridiculous; she could feel herself getting wetter with each passing moment, the dampness in her boxers becoming impossible to ignore. Your ass pushed into her again, intensifying her need.

“And I’m the distracting one?” she quipped, her breath catching. “God, you’re just as distracting.” She added, her head dropping onto your shoulder as she continued to roll her hips against you, her hands squeezing your boobs from underneath her your shirt.

You snorted at her words and at the whole situation, finding it amusing. “What’s gotten into you today? You woke up horny or something?” you taunted her, your voice dripping with sarcasm, though the answer was obvious.

“You’ve got me all riled up,” she mumbled softly, a groan slipping past her plump lips. Her rough hands pushed your ass further into her as she began to suck purple marks on your neck, her eyes closing as her movements became more desperate and rushed.

“You’re a fucking loser, El,” you teased her, yet still letting her do as she pleased with your body.

Her whimpers turned into soft mewls as she ground against you, the friction sending jolts through her and making your pussy ache agonizingly. Her breath felt like the sea breeze against your skin; her soft lips left a trail of moist, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. She was losing herself in the moment, her body responding to every push and pull, every tease and taunt. Ellie’s hands roamed all over your body, her fingers digging into your flesh as if she couldn’t get enough of you.

“Need you right here, baby.” She uttered as she guided your hips, her breath hot and ragged as she pressed her forehead against your shoulder. The fabric of her boxers clung to her wet folds, every movement making the dampness more pronounced. It was as if her walls were pulsing your name in Morse code, each beat a desperate plea for you, for your fingers. “God… feels so good.” her voice barely a whisper.

“Does it?” Her hands gripped your hips, guiding you with a desperate urgency that made your pulse race and your head spin. The smooth and unyielding countertop offered a reassuring stability for the both of you as you leaned into it, your fingers splayed wide, seeking purchase on the slick surface. Her movements were frantic. The dampness of her boxers pressed against your unfortunately still-clothed ass, and you could feel your own slickness seeping through.

“Yeah… so… so good,” she breathed out, humping against the fat of your butt as she held you tightly in place, afraid that you might vanish at any moment. “My brain stops working around you.” You could feel her body tensing against you, her movements becoming more erratic and rushed as her orgasm approached.

“Does that little brain of yours ever work?” you shot back, a sly smirk playing on your lips—one she couldn’t see, but knowing you, she could sense it. She hated how easily you could turn her into this desperate, needy creature, and she hated even more how you always made fun of her when she got this weak for you.

“I swear to-” She released a frustrated huff, her voice strained and tinged with annoyance as she spoke through clenched teeth. Her nails dig into the soft skin of your hips, leaving imprints of crescent moons behind.

Her reaction only fueled your playful cruelty. “Aww… what? Is my baby mad?” you crooned, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. “So fucking pathetic.” you hissed.

“Shut up,” she muttered quietly, her voice low and uneven, her clit throbbing madly at each word that came out of your mouth, “I’m-’m close,” she whimpered into your ear, burying her face between your neck and shoulder, feeling the cold tip of her freckled nose press against your skin.

“That’s it? Gonna cum in your boxers from a little friction?” you chuckled, her grasp tightening on your hips, your eyes darting to the bowl of pancake batter, lying there, forgotten and abandoned.

At your small chuckle, her head rose from your shoulder, and she shot you a look that you would’ve missed if you hadn’t turned your head ever so slightly at her sudden shift in position. She gazed intently at you, her brows drawn together in a slight frown. Her mesmerizing green crystalline eyes seemed unusually dark, while a rosy flush adorned her face.

“What are you… what are you gonna do about it?” A valiant effort was made to gather her composure, but her attempts were in vain as she struggled to stifle the whimpers that involuntarily slipped from her trembling lips. The muscles in her abdomen tensed beneath the gentle fabric of the oversized shirt.

“Hmm… I could move and not let you finish.”

Ellie let out a shaky exhale at your playful threat, her pace becoming desperate, and she could feel her legs starting to give up. “Don’t you dare,” she warned, trying to sound intimidating.

You smirked at her words and slowly moved away from her grasp, making her whine like a lost puppy.

“No, no, no,” she repeated frantically, her mind and body instantly going into panic mode as she reached for your arm again, yanking your body back against her. “Please, please, I’m so sorry. So sorry,” she muttered out a series of apologies and sweet nothings, kissing your neck pleadingly, trying to get what she wanted.

You clicked your tongue and shook your head, a taunting chuckle slipping away as you edged just out of reach of your girlfriend’s frantic kisses. Her kisses, fervent and pleading, missed their mark, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the power you held over her at that moment. You had her wrapped around your fingers when all she wanted was to ride your fingers.

“Only good girls get to cum,” she groaned at your words, “Now, how ’bout you help me make pancakes?” Your question was accompanied by a lively and playful tone, which starkly contrasted her frustrated mood. Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you gazed at her, fully aware of the turmoil you were causing within her and enjoying every second of it. She was desperate for touch, for release, but you denied it to her. So fucking cruel.

Ellie looked at you through dark, full lashes, her face a canvas of desperate need, adorned with a constellation of freckles that dusted her pale skin. “Whatever, be that way,” She grumbled and scowled as she moved out of your personal space, giving you attitude.

“Get to work, slave,” You joked, watching her saunter over to the stove. She turned the fire on, her movements smooth and practiced as she reached for the pan, the soft clatter of metal on metal filling the kitchen. As she poured some oil, its golden stream glistening in the morning light, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to what was to come.

In your mind’s eye, you saw her back on your bed, her skin slick and glistening, her breath coming in quick, heated pants as she begged you to fuck her hard, just as she needed.

The thought of her beneath you, oiled up and ready for you, brought a sly grin to your face and a flutter in your pussy stomach.

Breakfast was just the beginning, after all.

She gave you a constant onslaught of attitude throughout the breakfast. She pouted and glowered, her sour mood a bitter blend of disappointment and indignation. Occasionally, she huffed or muttered something under her breath, her annoyance growing with each passing moment. She gobbled down the fluffy pancakes as she shot you glares. Poor thing, all flustered and needy, sitting there, denied of something she craved so desperately.

It was more than obvious that you would satisfy her urgent needs right after satisfying your own appetite. After all, you were starving and would need all the energy you could get for the intense workout in store for the two of you.

You pulled as many moans and gasps from her as you could, your manicured nails slipping on the soft, slippery skin of her thighs as you eagerly lapped at her folds.

You kept taking and taking, relentless and insatiable. Ellie was a fucked-out mess, babbling nonsense as she teetered on the edge of yet another release. You were fucking her dumb, and you weren’t even close to being finished with her.

“Another one, Els. C’mon, be a good girl for me,” you pleaded with a breathy voice, coaxing her with every word until she gave you precisely what you wanted. She was that good of a slut for you, and you loved every second of it.

“I know, babe,” you cooed sweetly, your fingers knuckles-deep inside her, her moist and abused walls pulsing around them.

She was a whiny mess, squirming so much that you had to pin her down, her teeth harshly biting her bottom lip, her green eyes teary from the overwhelming pleasure you were giving her. “I know, I know- but it’s gonna make you feel better,” you murmured, knowing her mind was too far gone to focus on your words.

“Just need to cum on my fingers, ’s all.” and all she needed to do was just lay there and take it. Take what she had wished for the whole morning like a needy brat.

Only after about ten orgasms did you decide it was time to let your poor girlfriend recover. Her skin was flushed, and a fine sheen of sweat glistened in the golden light that tiptoed through the window, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Her whole body trembled like a leaf, and the sheets beneath her were damp, ready to be thrown into the washing machine. Your thumb trailed down her happy auburn trail, her bush glistening with her own juices; her pearlescent sweetness dripping down onto the mattress, just like syrup.

daily click・palestine masterpost・neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks.

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