#means you can’t leave this home we created

[blugerine]

day 345749 of thinking about how crowley has a place to put his glasses in aziraphale’s bookshop because he knows it like the back of his hand and it represents home to him and he’s never had something like it again after heaven and hell both abandoned him.

[fairuzfan]

But the other images I had was like a mass refugee camp. So basically at that point in time, two months ago, about 20,000 people had sought refuge both in the hospital and outside the hospital. And these weren’t tents. They’re still not tents. They’re makeshift shelters with bed sheets or plastic bag sheets. The ones outside sleep on the floor. They’re lucky [if] they get a carpet or a mat. There was one bathroom at the time for about 200 people that they have to share. And inside, the hallways of the hospital were also made into shelters. There was hardly any room to walk, and there’s children running around everywhere. It’s important to remember all these people were not homeless. They all had homes that were destroyed. They’re all displaced people that took shelter in the hospital.

So that’s the kind of mass chaos that I encountered initially, and then I was told that every time there’s a bomb, give it about 15 minutes and the mass casualties come. That was the other thing that at the time shocked me: What we’d been seeing livestreamed on Instagram, on social media or whatever, I actually saw myself and it was worse than I can imagine. I saw scenes that were horrific that I’d never witnessed before and I never want to see again. You have a mother walking in holding her 8, 9-year-old, skinny — because they’re all starving — boy who’s dead, he’s cold and dead and [the mother is] screaming, asking for someone to check his pulse and everybody’s busy in the mass chaos. So that was kind of my initial welcoming scene when I entered Khan Younis the first time.

{...}

What I saw — I’m an eye surgeon, an eye plastic surgeon, and so I saw the classic, what I penned “the Gaza shrapnel face,” because in an explosive scenario, you don’t know what’s coming. When there’s an explosion, you don’t go like this [cover your face], you kind of actually, in fact, open your eyes. And so shrapnel’s everywhere. It’s a well-known fact that the Israeli forces are experimenting [with] weapons in Gaza to boost their weapon manufacturing industry. Because if a weapon is battle-tested, it’s more valuable, isn’t it? It’s got a higher value. So basically they’re using these weapons, these missiles that purposely, intently create these large shrapnel fragments that go everywhere. And they cause amputations that are unusual.

Most amputations occur at the weak points, the elbow or the knee, and so they’re better tolerated. But these [shrapnel fragments] are causing mid-thigh, mid-arm amputations that are more difficult, more challenging, and also the rehabilitation afterward is also more challenging. Also these shrapnels [are] unlike a bullet wound. A bullet wound goes in and out; there’s an entry and exit point. Shrapnel stays there. So you gotta take it out. So the injuries I saw were — I mean, I saw people with their eyes blown apart. And when I was there, and this is my experience, I treated all children when I was there the first time. It was kids that [were aged] 2, 6, 9, 10, 13, 15, and 16, and 17 were the ones that I treated. And their eyes unfortunately had to be removed. They had shrapnel in their eye sockets that I had to remove and, of course, remove the eye. There’s many patients, many children who had shrapnel in both their eyes. And you can only do so much because right now, because of the aid blockade and because of the destruction of most of Gaza, there’s no equipment available to take shrapnel that’s in the eye out. And so we just leave them alone and they eventually go blind.

{...}

I was on the ground, I toured the refugee camps, I went around Rafah, I saw, and if there’s an Israeli invasion, I can’t emphasize enough how catastrophic it’s going to be. It’ll be mass killing, mass destruction, because all these figures come in, 50 dead, 100 wounded. But what people don’t realize is, being wounded is a death sentence. Being wounded in this environment with no health care system, completely collapsed, is a death sentence. And the wounded often will lose everybody, like all family members, so they have no supports, especially children, have nobody left to take care of them, not even aunts and uncles. It will be catastrophic. I don’t know what to say to the world to stop an impending invasion. You’ve got to rein this prime minister of Israel in. You got to do something to stop this stupid invasion that he still wants to do, because it’ll be catastrophic.

{...}

I had one young man, about 25 years old, he lost one eye that I took out myself. He spent about five, six, or seven years, basically spent thousands and thousands of dollars in IVF treatment because he got married young and they wanted to have a child and they couldn’t have one. So he spent years on IVF treatment and finally had a baby that was 3 months old. And there was a missile attack by Israel at his home. He lost his entire family, including his baby and his wife and his parents and family. He’s by himself, single guy. I took his one eye out, and he has nobody in this world. He just kind of walks around the tent structures, just kind of walking around with no home and trying to sleep wherever he can.

[phantomlifes]

tasm who got sprayed with an aphrodisiac, so he goes to his roommate and fucks her well into the morning 🤭🤭🤭

A/N this deviated a bit but i needed to spread the munch agenda…hope you can forgive me friend…..

peter enters the apartment like a hurricane, his shaking body and heaving breaths impossible to ignore.

“peter?” you ask, eyes wide with concern. “what’s wrong?”

he doesn’t answer at first as he looks at you. of course you’d be wearing tiny pajama shorts right now, when he has no control of where his eyes land. he’s trying hard to catch his breath, his hands clenching into fists. he brushes the hair curled with sweat off his forehead and forces himself to look you in the eyes, raising his head higher. he anchors himself on your kitchen counter behind him. “aphrodisiac.” he breathed. “came home for my research.” he gulped, pushing himself to his bedroom, still evidently woozy. “gotta be an antidote.” he started to sway to the side, and you moved on instinct for him to fall in your arms.

“easy.” you drawled, arms shaking with his weight. you’ve never seen him in this state before. “where’s the antidote? do we have it?” you try to keep your voice level, but the urgency escapes your tongue in droves.

he shakes his head, looking up at you. his brown eyes have been blown even darker, the pupil completely swallowing his irises. “lab. somewhere. gotta go.” he pushes off of you, but you grab his shaking hand.

“there is no way in hell i’m letting you leave here like this.” you took a deep breath, knowing the ethics of this are dubious at best, since you’ve been attracted to him since the day he moved in and he is technically drugged. he’s obviously in pain, and you can’t let him go out alone all the way to the lab to get the antidote. you don’t even know if he’d survive. “look. it’s an aphrodisiac. i….” you closed your eyes before you continued. “if it will take the pain away, you could….take it out on me.” you swallowed, trying to put it gently.

peter looks at you in shock, managing to push himself off the ground all the way. “you mean it?” he asks, looking straight at your lips. “because it would…” his voice trails off, cracking.

“yes.” you grab his shoulders. “i mean it”

peter immediately grabs your face with his large hands and pulls you into him, his lips sliding against yours in an anxious release. you didn’t imagine your first kiss going like this, but it doesn’t count, right? as soon as he gets a bit of control of himself, though, he slows down a little, capturing you in a breath-sucking kiss, both of you breaking away for air twice. “are you sure?” he asks again, his voice a low rasp this time. you nod and he urges you to jump, carrying you with a kiss into his bedroom.

he lays you on the bed as gently as he can, and you immediately make work of sliding off your shorts and underwear. he’s so obvious with his staring, it’s adorable. “can i?” his eyes wander down and he asks again in that low rasp. “please?”

the way he said please sent a shiver down your spine. “yeah.” you answered breathlessly. “what do you want?”

“my face buried in your thighs.” he responds instantly, with the cadence of a casual conversation for something so brazen. you stifle a gasp and nod. he wastes no time gripping your thighs and hooking them on his shoulders. “you’re fucking dripping, baby.” he remarks as he starts to explore with his fingers. “this for me? you like seeing me worked up?” he almost whispers.

“i think so.” you manage to get out in between gasps from his fingers brushing against your clit. “do…do that more.”

“this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb in circles. “you like that, baby?” you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back with a stifled moan as your answer, and he grins. he takes this opportunity to start putting his mouth to work, his tongue lapping crudely as his thumb resumes pressing all of your nerves. the way he’s sucking and licking is filthy, the wet noises, his hums of delight and your cries of pleasure create a cacophony of pornography. you buck your hips against his face, pulling him closer lightly by his hair and when he groans you feel it inside of you. you whine, arching your back and he has to pin your hips down with a hand. he pulls his face away for a second, his mouth glistening with a smirk. “now who can’t control themselves?”

“shut up.” you whined in embarrassment, grabbing his hair and pulling him back down. he breathed a laugh against your clit, and you squirmed as much as you could in his hold. you’re not gonna last. he hummed and spoke into you, “yes ma’am.” and you knew you were done for.

“peter?” you whimper in between heavy breaths. “gonna cum.”

“yeah, baby?” he pulls his face away a bit, still keeping his thumb in position, only switching it to take your clit between his lips. “go on. cum for me.”

that’s all it took for you to release all over his chin with a weak little cry, your voice hoarse and breathless. you try to catch your breath, laying your head back on his pillow. “alright…” you breathed. “just give me a second…and you could…we could-“

“-about that.” he interrupted you. “i….i already did?” he says in a question, almost like he’s embarrassed, stark contrast to what his tone was minutes ago. “the effects wore off. let’s just leave it at that…” he trailed off, coughing. you prop yourself up on your elbows.

“did…did you…” you look down. “cum in your suit just from eating me out?”

he takes a deep breath, looking at you up and down. “maybe.”

you fall back with a giggle, and he immediately gets defensive. “what?”

“nothing.” you shake your head, the blood rushing to your face. “just so fucking hot.”

[myfictionaldreams]

Accidents Happen // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were visiting a friend when you were accidentally hit in the face, leaving behind a cut across your cheekbone. How will Steve and Bucky react when they see their girl injured?

Requested by: @theatrelove3000​ (thank you so much for the message! I hope your eye is doing better and I hope you enjoy this fic)

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, hints of winter solider, minor injuries/reader is injured, protectiveness, possessive behaviour, anxiety, pool sex, butt plugs, anal/vaginal sex, double penetration, handjob, multiple orgasms, sir kink, praise kink, size kink, bucky needs a hug, mentions of murder, not beta read

Words: 6.4k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link 

Making friends whilst being in close connection with the mafia was both easy and difficult. Easy because you meet hundreds of new people every month and difficult because many of them were dangerous and untrustworthy. On the rare occasion, a friendship would be created and even though you were busy nearly every day for the gang, you still attempted to spend time with them.

Especially on special days such as your best friend’s baby's birthday. You’d met Laura Barton through her husband Clint, whom you’d met through Natasha. The two of you instantly bonded over having partners in dangerous jobs and if you ever needed a break, she’d always welcome you to her home with a hot drink ready and the kids running rampant which was a great distraction.

Today, it was her youngest, Nate’s 2nd birthday so you’d spent the afternoon celebrating with cakes and toys with the family. By early evening, you were the only one remaining, finally having time to cuddle with the toddler who was playing with the plastic toy train that you’d bought him as a present.

“What time are you and the boys leaving for the hotel?” Laura asked in between bites of vanilla cake. 

Your head flew back to avoid the wild swing of Nate’s tiny arm as he continued to play with the toy, making little noises with his mouth that made you smile. “Um, I think around 7, it’ll only take us half an hour to drive there but I can’t wait! Even though we are going for work, the hotel is stunning, and of course, Steve had to buy the best room, I think we’ve even got our own private pool”.

Laura’s eyebrows raised, letting out a low whistle, “They really do live a life of luxury. If they ever want to treat Clint and me to a weekend away any time soon I’d be forever in their debt”.

You laughed at your friend, “I’ll see what I can do”. Turning to look at Nate and poking the tip of his nose, “Do you think mommy deserves a trip away?” As you asked, you made the grave mistake of not watching his arm and there's one thing about toddlers, it was that they were surprisingly strong as he swung the train toy and accidentally smacked you in the face with it. “Oof, ok I’m taking that as a no”.

“Shit! Are you ok? Nate be careful”, Laura chastised to her son as she took him into her arms.

“It’s ok, he didn’t mean it, I’m fine”.

“You aren’t fine, you’re bleeding!” Laura was looking at you with wide eyes.

You were still slightly in shock, trying to remain calm to not scare Nate but you couldn’t deny it, your face was throbbing. Excusing yourself, you rushed to the bathroom and glanced into the mirror. “Shit, the boys are going to go crazy”. The toddler had managed to hit you right underneath your eye, the sharp corner had cut the skin and the surrounding area was already swelling and felt tender. Sighing to yourself, you cleaned the bleeding cut, thankfully it wasn’t deep enough for stitches and the bleeding had stopped already but with the location, you knew you’d probably end up with a black eye over the next day or so.

After you finished cleaning up, you spent a couple of minutes contemplating what the fuck you were going to say to Steve and Bucky. There wasn’t any way you’d be able to hide it with makeup and there wasn’t anything they hated more than seeing you hurt and you knew an overreaction was coming your way. Should you call them or tell them in person? At least in person, you could stop them from running off on a vengeance before you could even explain what had happened so decided you’d wait to tell them.

Leaving the bathroom, you found Laura waiting anxiously with the kids all playing in another room. She took one look at your face before mumbling, “Shit. Does this make me number one on the Rogers mafia hit list?” she joked but you knew she was also slightly serious.

Walking closer to your friend, you took her hands and grinned, even though the action hurt your cheek. “Not it doesn’t, it’s absolutely fine, the boys love Nate they’ll forgive him for anything. I should probably go through, face the music now rather than waiting around”.

You called Sam to pick you up and he text you once outside. Giving Laura and the kids a big hug, you reassured her once more that everything would be ok before leaving her house and walking down the path to the parked SUV with Sam in the driving seat. As you saw him, you waved happily, trying to appear as at ease as possible to keep the tension calm.

However, the moment you were close enough for him to notice the injury to your face, his smile dropped, eyebrows frowning as he hastily got out of the car, rushing to you. “Sam it’s fine-”.

“Who did this to you?” he asked urgently, hands cupping your jaw and tilting your face so he could examine your cut closely. Sam’s face was contorted into anger, something rarely displayed by your bodyguard and friend as he usually likes to be sarcastic and funny when around you.

Lifting your hands, you held onto his wrists, trying to pull him away but he held strong having not finished checking your injury. “Nate accidentally hit me with his toy train… A TODDLER hit me Sam so please relax”.

Thankfully he did. The tension in his shoulders eased as well as the frown on his face. Eyes still flicking across the cut, he instructed, “Tell me when it starts to hurt”. Carefully, he pressed his fingers across your face, inching towards the wound and you informed it where it began to be tender, so he knew just had big the injury was and how bruised it was beneath the swelling. It took a couple of minutes before he seemed somewhat at ease about the injury, finally looking away from the injury to look at the rest of your face before the corner of his lip turned up, “so a baby hurt you this much, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, gently pushing against his shoulder, “Yes! He’s stronger than he looks and yes, I am very embarrassed so please never bring it up again”.

Sam laughed as well, placing his arm over your shoulder and turning the two of you back towards the car. “Oh, you know I’m going to bring it up at any opportunity right?”

Rolling your eyes, you climbed into the car, pulling your seatbelt across your front as he did the same in the driver’s seat. “I could just have Steve or Bucky demand you to never bring it up again”, you suggested unseriously.

Sam’s smile faltered as he began to drive the two of you to the office, “I’m assuming you’ve not told either of them yet? Feel like we need to call everyone in to try and keep them both calm, they’re going to go apeshit when they see you”.

Sighing heavily, you had to refrain from wiping your face. “I thought about calling them but I know they wouldn't listen to me after I’ve told them about it so decided it was better to tell them in person. I just hope that it doesn’t ruin our trip away, I mean, maybe they’ll be calm because it was a baby, there will be no need to go on a vengeance tour of Brooklyn”.

Sam looked towards you with an awkward smile and that’s all you needed to see to know that was most likely not going to happen today.

Arriving at the warehouse, you tried to ignore the glances from other gang members when they noticed the cut to your face, a tension quickly building in the atmosphere which only meant your anxiety increased. You tried to smile at everyone to ease the nerves but it didn’t seem to work. It was only as you and Sam walked into the elevator and it was just the two of you did you release a deep, aggravated groan.

“I’m screwed aren’t I”, you say, glancing at Sam as he rolled up his sleeves like he was preparing for a fight.

“You aren’t screwed, I think you’re the only one who is actually safe”, he reminded you as the doors opened to the corridor to Steve’s office. The two of you walked at a slow pace, your head hanging low so that you didn’t see Steve and Bucky’s bodyguard waiting outside of the closed office door.

“Who died?” Natasha joked, seeing the solemn reaction from you both. Your head snapped up to her, about to reassure her that everything was fine but the words floated away as her grin instantly dropped at seeing your cheek. “What happened?” she asked in an authoritative tone, closing the gap with a single step, hands gripping your face much like Sam had.

Trying to keep your voice as steady and as calm as possible, you explained, “Little Nate decided the toy train had better use on my face than in the normal way”.

It took Natasha longer than usual to believe you, only accepting it as she glanced towards Sam who nodded his head and let go of your face. “Well… we’re all in for a long night then”, she joked but this time there was a hint of warning in her tone.

“Don’t say that, you should have seen what it was like downstairs”. You took a deep breath before continuing, “It’s going to be absolutely fine. I’m going to walk in there, explain to them that a toddler hit me in the face, let them have a little freakout and then we are all going to remain calm and continue with our trip away and it’s all going to be fine”. Niehter Sam or Natasha seemed convinced so you sighed once more, chewing on your bottom lip with nerves. Shaking your head, you rolled your shoulders to try and look as unbothered as possible, “I need to get this over and done with. If either of them leaves, could you follow them please and make sure they don’t do anything stupid”.

“We can try our best, boss lady”, Sam responded for the two of them, walking towards the office door and holding it open for you.

Taking a deep breath, you walked into Steve’s office, seeing both of them sitting at the large oak desk that was positioned in the centre of the room, laptops in front of them, face set with concentration. As your mouth opened to announce your arrival and quickly explain what had happened before they could freak, Steve’s eyes had already glanced away from his screen.

“What the fuck!” he growled, standing with such force his seat toppled over as he stormed towards you. “Who did this to you? What happened?” Steve was in front of you within half a second, his hands cupping your face, eyes full of a whirlwind of seething anger, worry and concern.

“Please don’t freak out, it’s absolutely fine, it was just an accident”, you managed to say as your face was turned in different directions by Steve as if the size of the cut would change but it remained the same. As Steve finished his inspection, Bucky was right there over his shoulder, eyes full of fury as he too checked the cut but then continued further past just your face. 

“Accident or not, I’m fucking killing someone”, Bucky barked, lifting your arms and searching for any more injuries and it was only as he lifted the front of your shirt did you push his hands away and take a step back.

“Both of you just wait, please. Absolutely no killing is happening because it was done by a two-year-old” you emphasised, not sure if they were even listening as they crowded around you. Placing a hand on either of their chests, you tried not to concentrate on the pounding of both of their hearts beneath your palms as you explained. “I was sitting with Nate, he was playing with his toy train that he loves by the way. I happened to get too close and didn’t see him swinging the toy and it caught me across the face and let me tell you, that boy is strong!”

You grinned to show the humour, looking between Steve and Bucky, waiting for any sort of reaction from them. Both sets of ocean-blue eyes were flicking from your mouth to your injury and just as you were able to explain again to them, it was Steve who moved first by cupping your jaw with his hand, this time it felt more comforting rather than him assessing you.

“Right let me just make sure I’m understanding this, Nate hit you in the face with the toy that you bought him and caused this much damage?”, he tilted your chin as he finished his sentence to show off your injury more.

“Yes that is exactly what happened. You can check with Sam if you want. Nate is a lot stronger than you’d expect someone so small to be”.

Steve nodded whilst taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down but his heart was still pounding under your hand. Leaning down, he kissed your forehead, showing his understanding of the situation. “How does it feel? Does it hurt?” he questioned, his blonde eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

“It feels tender and bruised but only when I touch it and I can see the swelling out of the corner of my eye but otherwise it’s fine. I’ve had worse that’s for sure”, you tried to once again defuse the tension with a little joke but all it caused was Bucky’s jaw to tighten.

Steve noticed too and suggested, “Why don’t you go and wait by the car baby, we just need to wrap up everything here and we can start heading to the hotel

It was a simple idea but put you on edge with worry as Bucky had yet to say anything or snap out of the protective trance. Instead of arguing with Steve, you nodded, knowing that Steve could handle Bucky when he was like this and it was best to leave the two of them to it.

Stepping out of the office, you released a long heavy breath, now facing Natasha and Sam who were waiting in a stance like they were ready to tackle someone but relaxed seeing that it was you. Glancing over your shoulder, they were surprised when no one else followed after you. “Everything ok, Sugar?” Natasha questioned uncertainly.

“I’m not entirely sure. I think Steve’s ok but Bucky… he didn’t say a word to me. I think they’re having a talk so I’ve been sent to the car like a naughty child”. Sam chuckled, finally stepping forward and holding his elbow out for you to take.

“Well let then me escort you to the car m’lady”, he mocked and managed to pull a smile to your lips as you accepted.

It took nearly 45 minutes for them to finish whatever talk that needed to happen, and you’d hoped that Bucky would rush to the car but it was quite the opposite. He inclined for Sam to get out of the car and they spoke out of sight.

Sam wouldn’t be coming with you to the hotel, it was just supposed to be you and the boys so you waved to him in farewell as he climbed out of the car. Steve then slide in next to you, closing the gap in the middle so his body brushed against yours as you blinked up at him with a worried expression. Once again, his hand slide along your jaw as he kissed your temple. “You know I hate seeing you hurt”, he admitted against your skin before pulling back and looking at you with an apologetic gaze.

“I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you have to shut me out”, you countered, lifting your hand to stroke along his stubbled cheek.

“It doesn’t”, he contemplates. “But, I also don’t want you to see me in this state, the things going through my mind when I saw your face, I was just about ready to kill everyone in this building to find out what happened. No one hurts what’s mine”.

Your heart was thumping hard in your chest at his passionate declaration. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you have to push me away. I know you don’t want to see me hurt but accidents happen and if there was something wrong, you know I would call you immediately”.

Steve’s eyes softened, “Yes I know that now but, it doesn’t stop the panic that I feel when I see you’re hurt”.

Shifting even closer so that you could kiss his cheek, you continued, “I’m sorry for scaring you, it’s hard to tell you when these things happen, I don’t know whether I should call to prewarn or wait to see you in person”.

Steve’s lips lowered to yours, giving you a quick kiss to your lips, “We’ll figure it out”.

“What about Bucky?” you asked nervously.

“Buck might need a little more time, he’s still struggling to process his emotions”.

This did little to ease your anxiety, especially as the said man got into the driver's seat and didn’t say a single word to you, only glancing at you from the rearview mirror for a moment before beginning the drive to the hotel.

Steve easily managed to fill the silence with natural conversations which did little to distract you from the nerves of Bucky not talking. Even when the three of you arrived at the hotel and were shown to the penthouse where you’d be staying, Bucky didn’t say a word. After a quick tour of the breathtakingly beautiful surroundings which included a kitchen, living room area and pool that overlooked the city, you decided to go and freshen up.

After returning in a flowing dress that felt more comfortable than the jeans and shirt, you looked for the boys but only found Steve who was leaning against the kitchen island, staring at a spot in deep thought. “Steve?” this snapped him out of his trance as he instantly looked at you, standing to his full height. “Where’s Bucky?” you continued to look around but didn’t see him and by the look on Steve’s face, you knew you wouldn’t find him. “Where is he?”

“He said he needed a moment so has gone to the bar a few floors below”. Your shoulders dropped hearing this, feeling awful that he was struggling so much. “He’ll be ok sweetheart, he just has his own demons that he’s trying to fight with at the moment, you know the sort of headspace he gets into when you’re hurt”.

“I know but I haven’t seen him like this for a while, I guess I thought that side of him was over”. Sometimes when Bucky was overtly stressed with work, or needed to protect someone, particularly with regards to work, it was almost like his mind would shut down and someone else would take over. It was hard for him to deal with especially as he tended to get his emotions out violently when like this but as he hasn’t had an outlet today, he felt the need to separate himself from everyone. You knew he would never hurt you, even when he was like this so you asked Steve, “What floor is the bar on?”

Steve walked down with you and you both found him sitting on a stool in front of the bar with a very large glass of dark liquor on the bar in front of him. Steve decided to stay back and let you talk to him considering his talk earlier seemed to have done nothing to help him but reassured if you needed anything just nod.

As you walked towards Bucky, you thought about what you were going to say but your mind seemed to be completely empty of thoughts as you were so anxious you felt nauseous. Stepping next to him, he made no move to look in your direction or acknowledge your arrival and continued to stare forward. Every single muscle in his body was tense, eyes blazing with a look that you hadn’t seen in eyes like he was figuring out a way to murder everybody in the room. Your eyes flicked over his face, noting his jaw was so tense it looked like it was going to break. Unsure whether to touch him or not when he was like this, you said the only words that sprung to mind: “I miss you”.

Bucky’s entire body shifted, all of the tension seemingly melting away like a reset button had been pressed, as his eyes softened their glare as he flicked them to finally look at you. Seeing the change in him and drawing his attention, you reached across him to grip his metal hand, lifting it up to your face and reeling in the recognisable coolness of the metal against your uninjured cheek.

Turning to kiss the metal palm, you repeated, “I miss you Bucky”. There was even further relief when the pad of his thumb stroked across your cheekbone. Your boyfriend doesn't say a word, he didn’t need to as he stood from the stool, towering over you as he wrapped both of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his chest, his face nuzzling into your neck, taking a deep breath against your skin which seemed to also calm him further.

You hugged him back just as fiercely, eyes squeezing tight as you clung to the back of his shirt, probably crinkling the expensive material but neither of you cared. After a couple of minutes, he finally began to pull back enough that your arms could wind around his neck, pulling him down so you could kiss him passionately, ignoring the ache in your injured cheek from the movement.

His hands clenched around your waist at the kiss until you pulled back but that was only so you could kiss his cheek repeatedly whilst whispering, “I’m so sorry I’ve scared you Bucky, everythings ok I promise but I need you to be here with me and Steve”.

Bucky didn’t say anything at first, his only response was a nod as his body continued to try and calm down from its heightened alertness. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity he said with as much passion as possible, “I’m sorry, I love you”.

“I know, it’s ok, I love you too Bucky, now let's go back upstairs and relax for the evening, ok?” he nodded his head in agreement, his hand clasped around yours as you pulled him towards Steve who smiled at the two of you.

In the elevator up to your floor, Steve turned to Bucky and placed a tender hand on the back of his head, pulling him roughly into his side, “It’ll be alright Buck”, he spoke tenderly into his ear before kissing him on the side of his head. The sight had your chest warming at the intimate show of support from the mafia leader but your thoughts didn’t dwell as the elevator dinged to indicate arrival to the penthouse.

The three of you opened a bottle of champagne and watched the sunset over the city before you decided that it was time for the pool and needed a moment to get ready. As you stood in the bathroom, you decided to continue with the plan that you’d had since you knew you were coming here. Of course, when travelling anywhere, especially somewhere this beautiful, you would want to be intimate with them both and you were hoping to take them both at the same time. So, you had decided to prep yourself a little bit with the use of your favourite butt plug and then when the three of you were ready, they could simply take it out and save the time of prepping.

It took a few minutes to work inside of you but you were happy to see the jewel gleaming from within your arse cheeks and then continued to dress into your swimsuit. You looked somewhat ridiculous with the stunning swimsuit and swollen cut to the face but it would have to do as you finally exited the bathroom.

Bucky turned to you first, hearing your footsteps as you approached the edge of the water but it was his raised eyebrow and deadpan expression that had you faltering. “What?” you asked, looking down at yourself and wondering what was out of place.

“Doll, seriously? We have our own private pool and you still think to change into a swimsuit?” Your cheeks warmed at the realisation that both Steve and Bucky were completely nude in the water and with a small smile, began to remove your own swimsuit which captivated Steve and Bucky’s attention, especially as you revealed your breasts.

As the material gathered at your waist, you turned on the spot so they were looking at your back, you bent forward to fully remove the outfit but it also gave them the perfect view of your arse with the butt plug on display.

“Fuck”, Steve cursed under his breath as he moved towards the stairs just as you began to walk over, holding out his hand for you to take and carefully descend into the water, being careful not to splash your face too much in the process. The water was the perfect warm temperature and it felt so relaxing to be almost weightless as Steve pulled you easily through the water you couldn’t reach the floor like he could, until you were near the edge, looking out over the city with Bucky on the other side of you.

The three of you huddled close together, your arms holding onto the edge of the pool, enjoying the ambience and serene moment of blissful quiet. However, Bucky couldn’t keep himself restrained for long as his hours of not seeing or touching you were beginning to get to him. Sliding behind you, his arms crowding you closer to the pool edge, his lips kissed delicately below your ear, moving south down your neck and to your shoulder. You tilted your head to the side to give him more room, releasing a soft breath at the tingling sensations his lips were causing, especially as his stubble brushed against your skin.

“You’re so beautiful”, Steve admired from beside you, his words making your cheeks flush with warmth at the compliment.

“Even with a black eye”, Bucky joked from where he was kissing the top of your back. You let out a shocked laugh, attempting to elbow him in the ribs but he easily held your arm away as he chuckled. The noise and joke were welcomed from him though to know he had calmed down enough from the initial shock of seeing you injured. “Could I make one request for tonight?” Bucky enquired, returning to kiss the pulse point on your neck.

“Yes?” you asked, already sounding a little breathless as you lazily moved your legs through the water, still holding your weight up by holding onto the edge.

“Don’t hold your noises in tonight, even though we are outside, I want this whole damn city to hear you”, Bucky grunted as he thrust his hips against your lower back, making you feel his considerably hard cock. Once again, your body warmed thoroughly at the thought of those a few floors below potentially hearing through their open windows but that also turned you on, knowing people could hear how much your boyfriends were making you feel good.

Nodding your head in answer, Bucky’s hands began to graze over your stomach under the water, stroking near your hip where you had a particularly sensitive spot that had you shivering and leaning further into him.

Steve’s hand cradled your chin, turning your face towards him where he began to kiss you desperately, his tongue immediately teasing the seam of your mouth to gain access that you granted instantly. You moaned as his warm muscle twisted with yours, loving the dominance of the kiss as he easily stood over you in the pool with his tall stature. 

Bucky’s metal fingers then began to do their own exploration as they travelled between your legs, first stroking over your pussy lips, giving you a little warning for his next movement before he pressed more firmly until he was rubbing your clit. He moved in slow circles, and your hips jerked at the action, more moans rumbling from the back of your throat and into Steve’s mouth.

The blonde man pulled back first, breathing heavily as he instructed, “What I want you to do is take Bucky and after you cum, we’re going to fuck you at the same time, understand?”

“Yes, sir”, you automatically responded, your arousal aching in your core.

“Good girl”, Bucky praised as he shifted his position but continued to play with your clit as he moved. His lower half moved further beneath you so your body was moved a little out of the water, revealing your breasts to the cool air as you balanced on his body. The tip of his cock nudged against his fingers at the apex of your thighs, and with a flick of his hips, it moved to your hole. Even though you were in the water, he still took his time, being careful to not move too quickly as he stretched your cunt. Each inch that moved in had you gasping and moaning, grabbing tightly onto Steve’s arm that shot out to support your body from toppling forward. “That’s it, you’re taking me so well, Doll”, Bucky continued to encourage you as soon his hips were flush against yours which meant that he subtly pressed against the plug in your arse which only added to the heightened pleasure.

“Feels so good Bucky”, you say, closing your eyes for a moment to try and savour the feelings but then they snapped open as Steve began to squeeze your nipples. Your back arched into the touch, loving the twists and pulls he was doing to them that sent shivers straight to your centre which only meant that you kept clenching around Bucky.

After what felt like an eternity, Bucky finally began to move, slowing his fingers at your clit to match the pace of his thrusting. Each snap of his hips would cause the plug to be pushed and even his cock within your pussy was brushing against it, you already felt so full and you only had one cock in you. The motions increased as Bucky nuzzled into the back of your neck, the water surrounding the three of you splashing over the edge.

As you got used to the position and pleasure that was being pounded throughout your body, you felt aware enough to reach into the water and grip Steve’s throbbing shaft. It floated in the water and you could feel it bob at your touch as well as Steve’s very audible gasp. He always did love it when you pleasured him so even though Bucky’s cock and fingers were very distracting, you attempted to try and also make Steve feel as good as you felt.

“Fuck, I love the feeling of your hands on me baby”, Steve grunted, thrusting into your palm as you squeezed harder, moving up and down the shaft in time with Bucky’s cock. Steve’s eyes closed, head tipping back as he fell into the pleasure, but his hands never stopped with both supporting your upper half and squeezing your breasts whilst tweaking the nipples.

Bucky moved faster now, feeling your pussy clenching harder around him, his fingers swiping back and forth in firm motions. You didn’t even need to tell him that you were going to cum, from the feeling around his cock and the sweet moans escaping your mouth, he knew you were close. He fucked you harder which meant your hand moved faster up Steve’s shaft.

“Oh-God, yes!”, you chanted, eyes closed as you squeezed Steve’s cock hard as the pleasure took over you, Bucky not stopping his thrusts as you came, extending the length of your orgasm as he continued. All until Steve quickly cursed and grabbed your wrists, pulling your hands away from him did your pussy stop fluttering as you looked at him in worry. “Did I hurt you?” you asked, realising that you were probably squeezing too hard.

Steve chuckled, a light pink shade tinging his cheeks as he shook his head, “No baby, you were going to make me cum if you carried on like that”.

“Oh”, was all you managed to say as you felt proud of yourself for making him nearly cum so quickly.

Bucky laughed under his breath at your reaction, kissing the back of your head before easing his cock out and wrapping his arm around your waist so he could move you further away from the wall, giving Steve room to move in front of you. Both of your hands moved to his muscular shoulders, holding on as Steve pulled both of your legs around his waist, the waterline now at your navel.

Bucky's warm hand massaged one of your arse cheeks as he instructed, “Relax for me,  Sweetheart”. You made sure to ease all of your muscles down as he gripped onto the butt plug and began to slowly pull it out. You gasped loudly at the feeling of your hole stretching around the toy before relief as it moved past the thickest part.

Bucky dropped the plug, declaring that he’d retrieve it from the bottom of the pool later and began lining up his cock at your asshole. You mewled into Steve’s shoulder as you felt the thick tip breaching your hole, the stretch was just as intense as the other hole but he moved slower this time, making sure not to hurt you.

“You’re so tight, shit”, Bucky groaned as you took his length, his hands flexing against your hips as you tried to adjust to him. After a long moment, you nodded your head against Steve and felt him moving his hips, the tip of his cock now penetrating your cunt, slowly but from the fucking by Bucky, it didn’t take you as long to adjust.

As they both were fully inserted into your holes, you let out a desperate moan, feeling so full it was nearly overwhelming. Your thighs were shaking in Steve’s grip around his waist and you wanted to speak to tell them how good it felt but your tongue felt heavy in your mouth so you told them through moans and mewling noises.

Steve moved first, pulling out a few inches before moving back in. Then Bucky copied his action. Both of your boyfriends fucked you, their thick cocks stroking against every single nerve and with the way your legs were wide and spread to be wrapped around Steve, your clit was brushing against his abdomen.

Your head dropped back against Bucky’s shoulder and you had to refrain from hissing as you accidentally brushed the injury of your face against his stubble. However, with the overwhelming pleasure that was being fucked into you, you didn’t vocalise the momentary discomfort and simply turned your face away so it didn’t happen again.

With how much you were being stimulated, it didn’t take you long to orgasm again, your body tightening like a coil around both of their cocks as waves of pleasure pulsed through you.

Bucky let out a deep groan and that was your only warning as he came suddenly, the feeling of your tight ass around his cock was too much for him and he was already so pent up from the day that he couldn’t hold it back anymore. His balls emptied everything within them into your ass, his teeth biting into the junction between your neck and shoulder as he grunted your name over and over until there was no more cum within his body.

You shivered as he pulled out, wishing you had a camera under the water to see the cum seeping out and clouding the water slightly. Bucky’s hands moved to under your thighs, taking them out of Steve’s grip as he took your weight instead so that Steve could fuck you without any restraint.

With your eyes half-lidded, you watched as Steve leaned forward, one hand on your waist and the other on Bucky’s shoulder, using the two of you to help ground him as he continued to fuck your pussy. With the more sturdy position, he was able to fuck you as hard as he could with the water adding some restraint so that he didn’t hurt you.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving little crescent-shaped dents in the skin but he enjoyed the sparks of pain that came with it. “I want you to orgasm one more time for me baby, I know you can do it”.

You shouted out in pleasure at his words, hearing the desperation in his tone so you knew he was holding back from cumming because he wanted you to do it one more time. Steve fucked you, hard and fast, water splashing everywhere as Bucky continued to hold onto you tightly.

It didn’t take you long to cum again, especially as Steve dipped his head and began to suck on each of your sensitive nipples. By the time your pussy stopped pulsing around him and you were becoming entirely too overstimulated, Steve finally shouted and stilled his thrusting, his cock throbbing with each spurt of his cum as he filled you up.

The three of you took a couple of minutes to catch your breath and stretch your muscles from being in the squished position. “At least we’re in the water, don’t have as much of a clean up”, you joked as the cum mixed with the pool water. Bucky laughed before ducking into the water and returning with your butt plug.

“For you, hot mama”, he handed over the toy and kissed your cheek before helping you over to the stairs but swiftly picked you up with a steady hand at your back and under your knees. “Please tell me you two are hungry, once we’ve finished drying up, I’m ordering some room service”.

You groaned in a different sort of need from only a few minutes ago, your arms wrapping around his neck, “yes please, I’m starving after all of this activity!”

[theoldsports]

married.

Coriolanus Snow x reader | 5.5k words

alcohol makes consent messy, substance abuse, manipulation, arranged marriage, public humiliation, two-way abusive relationship <3

Coriolanus may well replace Lupin as my favorite guy to write for. he’s fucked up. i can’t fix him, but i could certainly make him worse.

As quietly as possible, [Y/N] closed the door to Coriolanus’s lavish new apartment behind her. She didn’t particularly want him to know that she had left the apartment in the first place. There were always too many questions.

[Y/N] had recently moved in with Coriolanus since their engagement. Her parents had arranged their marriage with his grandmother, affectionately called the Grandma’am not long before she passed. Coriolanus was about the most desirable bachelor in the Capitol. Not only was he an excessively handsome twenty-three year old, but he was also growing increasingly wealthy and had recently received his first assignment as a Gamemaker working on creating a new arena structure for the Hunger Games. Everyone who was anyone in polite society knew of Coriolanus Snow.

And [Y/N] hated him with everything she had. She had to see his defiant smirk in school every day for years since they were twelve or so. She hid from him every chance she got at home. [Y/N] slept in another room away from him. The only advantage of their marriage were the politics and name recognition for the both of them.

“I didn’t realize you were going out.” Coriolanus said flatly, snapping [Y/N] from her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized he had been in the apartment’s common area. He was sitting calmly in an putrid-looking armchair, alarmingly still.

[Y/N] gasped and clutched her chest in surprise. “Is there a problem with my leaving?” She said quickly.

“No problem.”

[Y/N] looked at him curiously. “Okay.” She said and moved passed him to her bedroom.

After a moment of pause, Coriolanus appeared in her doorway. He leaned against her doorframe with a hand in his pocket. “Where were you, by the way?” He asked plainly.

“I don’t see how that’s your business.”

“It was beginning to get late. Our engagement party’s in two hours. I cannot very well attend an engagement event without my fiancée. So. Where were you?”

“Dry cleaner’s.”

Coriolanus let out a scoff. [Y/N] could see him get hot under the collar. “You expect me to believe you were—Where’s the laundry?” Coriolanus questioned.

[Y/N] reached into her coat pocket for the stub of her laundry receipt. “Dropping off, not picking up. You’re on Lucky Flickerman’s next week. Dropping off my dress ahead of time. Anything left you would like to accuse me of?” [Y/N] sighed, leaned against her desk chair.

“Do not speak to me like that,” Coriolanus begun, sighing. It was obvious that he felt undue humiliation from her response. “It’s childish and unbecoming.”

“So is your being a hypocrite.” [Y/N] snapped back instantly.

The pair fought daily. Never had Snow laid a hand on her, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he did one day. [Y/N] didn’t recall any particular fights he had been involved in at the Academy, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.

“Stop acting like a child!” Coriolanus repeated. “Are we not allowed one remotely pleasant moment together? You know I don’t want this just as much as you, but here we are. Can’t we be civil?”

“I am capable of civility, yes. You, on the other hand…”

“You’re disgusting. You don’t know how to listen. It blows me away. I asked you a simple question that a married couple should ask the other when one is gone. Now you’re screaming at me like a little girl. Grow up.”

“Grow up? You wanna talk about childish; you’re selfish, demanding, and cold. I’m scared to death of you. You make me feel like a toy, not a person, Coriolanus. I was always pretty fucking certain children had toys, not grownups.”

“Good gracious… Fine! Be that way. Cause a fucking scene!” Coriolanus screamed. His temper flared. He got that look in his eye that only men can get when they lose something they wanted. “My coat and tie are black. I’m assuming you’re not intending to clash or something, so just letting you know. Y’know. Communication. The polite thing to do.” He reported and stormed out of her room to his own. Her door slammed so hard behind him that she feared in may splinter off its hinges. What must the neighbors think of them?

[Y/N] resisted the urge to shout for Coriolanus to drop dead.

She was left to ready herself alone. As she pulled out her dress (that wouldn’t look foul against Coriolanus’s coat and tie) from the closet, she caught a glimpse of the engagement ring on her finger. White gold with a moderately sized ruby set in the middle. She was told both the gold and the stone were real, but she had her doubts to some extent. She found it was difficult to believe anything Coriolanus said. The ring made it clear that Coriolanus didn’t truly know [Y/N] because she had always worn silver jewelry. She felt isolated from all her prior jewelry pieces as now, none of them matched.

Then, [Y/N] stepped into her dress. A flowing black ballgown with a full petticoat and a glittery exterior over the fine satin it was made from. She couldn’t quite complete the buttons running up the dress’s back. She sat down at a small vanity Coriolanus had purchased her to do her hair and makeup. She assumed he would be hard pressed by the fact she couldn’t button the back of her own ballgown; that she was incapable or needy.

After dragging kohl and shadows over her eyelids, among other things, she set out to find the correct pair of shoes to match the dress.

The problem with dressing to match Coriolanus is that he was excessively tall. This meant every dress had to be accompanied by the tallest heels one could find. [Y/N]’s ankles ached just thinking about a night in shoes like that again. With her makeup done and her dress unbuttoned down the back, [Y/N] set out to find the red heels Coriolanus had purchased for her. She sat unceremoniously on the floor with her large skirt fluffed out around her to dig in her closet for the shoes.

Coriolanus was fastening his white gold and ruby cufflinks that matched [Y/N]’s engagement ring when he knocked at her door.

“Yes, what?” She shouted from the floor.

Coriolanus pulled the door open without asking if she was decent. “I was going to ask if you were ready, but I can see that you aren’t.” He sighed. Coriolanus never apologized after a fight, instead he tried to placate in whatever way possible. He was incapable of an apology, [Y/N] thought. Whether it was buying her something, taking her out, helping her find something she had lost, that’s what he would do to ease his own guilt. If he could feel guilt.

[Y/N] sighed as well. She was unwilling to engage in verbal sparring with him now. She lowered her head in a visual show of defeat. “I can’t find my other shoe,” She said weakly. “The red ones you got me.”

“The red heels?” He asked quietly. Coriolanus perceived she was not much in the mood for his attitude, and felt his residual anger cool off several degrees.

[Y/N] nodded hopelessly. She didn’t want to go to the engagement party. She didn’t want to be marrying Coriolanus under terms such as these. [Y/N] felt like property and everything hurt.

“Let me look,” Coriolanus said. What he meant to say was ‘I’m sorry for everything,’ but what he said was: “I’ll help you look. Don’t wrinkle your dress, alright?”

[Y/N] stood up awkwardly, holding the falling bodice of her dress up. She felt uncomfortable being so vulnerable in front of him like this. “Sorry, I couldn’t button the back.” She said. With her free hand, she reached around the back of the dress in an attempt to close it.

“Don’t apologize. I’ll get it. Turn,” Coriolanus commanded plainly. [Y/N] did as he said. He notched the buttons down her back with ease. “You should’ve called for help. I didn’t realize you were struggling.” He said. He patted her shoulder to signify he was done with the back of her dress. Coriolanus moved in front of her closet and bent down to find the missing left red shoe.

It was silent for a moment. “Of course you weren’t aware I was struggling.”

Coriolanus offered no reply. He understood what she meant.

“Aha!” He said after a few moments, holding up a matching set of shoes. Coriolanus placed them on the floor in front of her so she could step into them. He offered [Y/N] a hand for stability as she did so.

“Thank you,” she said. “Hey, Coriolanus?”

“Hm?”

“Are you nervous?”

“No,” he replied, standing up from the carpeted floor. “Are you?” Coriolanus’s blue eyes were piercingly inquisitive. Eyes that didn’t want to know you, but to consume you.

“Yes.”

“Really? Why?” Coriolanus asked. It didn’t feel rude or hot-tempered. It was merely a plain question. It made [Y/N] feel safe to answer, even though she remained guarded.

“I’m presenting myself as the soon-to-be wife of the most important thirty-under-thirty in the Capitol in an arranged marriage. And you hate me. You have hated me since we were children. My life is over, Coriolanus. This is for you and for my family’s honor, evidently. What do I have left?”

“You think I hate you?” Coriolanus asked, bending his neck to look at [Y/N]. “I don’t hate you.” [Y/N] wasn’t sure how truthful the statement was.

“Well, at least, you don’t like me.”

Curiously, Coriolanus placed a hand on her neck and dragged his thumb across [Y/N]’s jawline. “That’s such shit, [Y/N]. I didn’t realize you thought that of me. That you… Felt that way at all,” he started carefully. “Rather, and this sounds silly, I enjoy arguing with you. I sort of thought you did as well. You’re ruthless, I admire that,” He smirked and paused for a breath. “I do like you. Believe it, or not. I’ll just have to figure out a way to show you better,” Coriolanus’ hand slid from [Y/N]’s throat, down her side and back to eventually rest at her waist. She blinked up at him, surprised at the luxury of such unexpected contact from him. “Your life is not over. You wanna work, work. You want to not work, stay home. Please, allow me to do what I can for you. I can open doors. Whatever you want, name it. Things, opportunity,” [Y/N] nodded at the word ‘opportunity.’ “You’re meant to be my wife and I’m… really, I’m one of the best resources there is around here. Let me use that advantage. Had I known sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted all that time and money buying you things you hate.” He attempted a casual joke, holding her too close to him.

They were closer physically than they had ever been. Due to their proximity, [Y/N] had to rest her hands on Coriolanus’ chest as she stared up at him. She didn’t know what to say, so she nodded and straightened the red rose at his lapel. “You just might get yourself that unified front with me if you bring home your work…”

“You’re interested in Gamemaking? Since when?”

[Y/N] rolled her eyes. “We’re going to be late. We can speak about this later.”

“By all means.” Coriolanus leaned down awkwardly and kissed her. Maybe it was out of duty, maybe out of desire. Neither of them knew. They had shared the occasional peck on the lips for social reasons before, but this felt a bit different. It was charged somehow. A promise.

When they separated, [Y/N] stared at Coriolanus. He was all eyes - blue, blue, blue. He blinked at her. She blinked back. “Come on, we’ll be late to our own party.”

—

The whole ride to the event venue, Coriolanus had kept his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh. This was an unusual gesture. Normally, he didn’t chance touching her, even by accident. It was an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.

“I’m gonna be sick.” [Y/N] groaned into her palm as she exited the vehicle, led by Coriolanus toward the door of the event hall. The building had been destroyed when they were children in the war and had been recently restored to its former glory.

“Same thing as earlier, or did you decide I’m the worst person on earth?”

“Same as before. Haven’t decided about the second thing. My parents are going to be here too. You remember them?”

“Yes. I’ve met them… Twice, I believe—”

“Tread carefully.” [Y/N] said, offering no additional support.

Coriolanus nodded in solemn understanding. His eyebrows knitted together, knowing one more nasty, exhausting troublespot would be in his way tonight. He hated social gatherings as much as [Y/N]. With all the gentleness he could muster, Coriolanus took her hand. “Heading inside… Unified front?”

“If I must.” [Y/N] said.

With that, the night took off. Bright flashing cameras reflected off the black and white marble of the building, and applause rang off the large, cavernous walls. Everyone was shaking their hands, greeting and congratulating them, and stopping them for overly pictures at every turn. For a moment, [Y/N] truly believed that everything in her life was perfect, because everyone around her seemed to assume that it was. It made the pill of her future easier to swallow.

Coriolanus led her around the room with ease. He introduced her to many individuals whose names she would not remember tomorrow. She was beginning to develop a stunning routine of artifice with him as Coriolanus puppeted her around the room. Each interaction functioned with a greeting from Coriolanus to the stranger, he would remove his arm from [Y/N]’s waist and drag it down her arm into her hand in order for her to showcase her striking gown. Then he would say “isn’t my fiancée beautiful?” or “isn’t she just divine?” or “what a lucky man am I?” [Y/N] would chuckle and compliment him back with “my Coriolanus, ever the charmer!” or “isn’t he just divine?” or “what a lucky woman am I?” accordingly. They would smile sickeningly and pretend they were in love, he would lean in and kiss [Y/N] on the cheek, and she laugh warmly at his ‘spontaneity’ and place a hand on his chest, or straighten his tie.

After that, they would move on to greet the next poor sucker and repeat the process.

Eventually, [Y/N] dragged Coriolanus off to the side so she could relax her artificial grin. “Sorry, I need a moment. My face hurts. And that last man and his wife, was that his wife? They stunk. They smelled so foul it is unreal.”

Coriolanus smirked. “Those were my next door neighbors growing up. Vile. They’re very heavy morphling users, if you couldn’t tell with the glazed over look and twitchy eyebrow.” Coriolanus mocked.

[Y/N] laughed, hard. “Oh, you’re terrible!” She jeered. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for morphling tonight…”

“Don’t tell me you’re a junkie, now.” Coriolanus pressed.

“Junkie is such a strong word…”

“Well, since I can’t get you high out of your mind at the moment, best I can offer is posca. I can grab you a glass and you can hide from the onslaught for a moment.” Coriolanus offered.

“Please. A particularly stiff glass if you can swing it. Or whiskey!” [Y/N] said. She watched Coriolanus turn to leave for the bar. [Y/N] tucked herself in a corner behind a noble Corinthian column for a moment of peace. A few people came and went that she greeted with that 1000-watt fake smile of hers, but she was mostly left unbothered. [Y/N] caught sight of a clock and realized Coriolanus had been gone for several minutes longer than he should have. She excused herself from talking to some old woman that claimed to be some distant great aunt or something of Coriolanus’ and set off to locate him and her posca.

Cutting through the crowd, [Y/N] spotted tall Coriolanus over most everyone’s heads, holding two glasses of posca, and speaking to her parents.

Fuck.

Her parents.

[Y/N] rushed sharply towards Coriolanus. She stopped short of approaching. She wanted to listen in for a moment to what they might be saying. [Y/N] knew her parents were of the socially treacherous sort. She turned her back to them and stood, pretending she didn’t know they were there.

“…Hasn’t given you too much trouble.” She heard her mother laugh.

Coriolanus laughed uncomfortably back. “Ha, not too much, no,” He said. “She’s quite fiery, for lack of a better word, though. Tough. She’s a tough woman.”

“You’re a strong young man, Coriolanus. I’m sure you’ll find a way to put her in her place. You can’t have her compromise your image and all that, you know. She can just be so destructive.” Her father said.

[Y/N] felt her heart sink. The positive interactions she had with Coriolanus were slipping out of her mind by the second in overhearing the conversation.

“Ah, yes sir,” Coriolanus said. “We’ve got a whole lifetime for—“

[Y/N] turned around and stomped over to Coriolanus. “There you are!” She said, returning that winning smile to her lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, dear,” [Y/N] the pet name coming from her mouth made her nauseous. She grasped Coriolanus’ arm firmly. “And you got me a drink? You really are a dear, aren’t you?” She smiled and turned to her parents. Coriolanus felt tense beside her; she could feel it in the muscles in his arm.

Both her mother and father embraced her lovingly. “Oh, [Y/N], you look beautiful as ever.” Her mother said.

“Thank you,” [Y/N] said flatly, not returning the compliment. “If you’ll excuse us, there was someone else I wanted Coriolanus to meet. We’ll be back around soon. Love you!” She muttered, pulling Coriolanus away from her parents.

“Give me that.” She said, as soon as they were out of earshot, taking the glass of posca from Coriolanus.

“They’re…” he started in reference to her parents.

“Dreadful. I know,” [Y/N] heart felt broken. She didn’t even have a chance with Coriolanus without their humiliating influence. She didn’t want to dive into rationalizing his overheard conversation. So she just morosely stared down at the floor.

“They’re cruel to you,” he remarked as [Y/N] drank. “They told me I should work on breaking your spirit.”

[Y/N] took a long drink from her glass. “Are you going to? Break my spirit, I mean.”

“Haven’t decided,” Coriolanus replied. “Is tonight terrible so far for you?”

“Absolutely and unendingly.”

“Shame, since it’s supposed to be for us,” Coriolanus frowned. “Here’s what we’ll do. Drink up and we’ll dance. You told me you liked to dance once. Still true?”

“Uh, yes. You remember that?” The truth was that Coriolanus forgot very little.

“Too much talking, not enough drinking.” He replied, reaching out to tip the stem of her posca glass up, forcing the drink towards her lips.

“You’re a dick.” [Y/N] snapped. Her voice echoed from the round glass at her mouth.

“Never heard that one before.” Coriolanus said sarcastically.

A total of five empty posca glasses were settled on a cocktail table between them after about forty-five minutes of chatter and drinking. Coriolanus seemed looser than before, but focused as ever. The third glass, and the last half of Coriolanus’ second, had sent [Y/N] over the edge into drunkness, however.

“Dance with me now?” [Y/N] slurred slightly.

Coriolanus held his hand out as an affirmative response. She took it and he led her towards the dance floor. “FYI, I’m going to lead. You’re falling apart.” He leaned in to whisper teasingly as they approached the shiny wooden floor.

“If you’re shit at this, I reserve the right to take over as lead.”

“You have zero faith in me,” Coriolanus said, grabbing her too firmly in a waltz hold. She placed her hand on his broad shoulder. “Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you.” He said, staring at her. Blue, blue, blue eyes, completely unreadable. Coriolanus sloppily led her around the dance floor, keeping the spins to a minimum. Sober, he was probably a fairly decent dancer. [Y/N] was reflexively a fine dancer as well, but a bit sloppier than normal. The thing that was actually holding back her dancing abilities, were the damn red heels. Her feet ached and she didn’t think she would be able to keep up with much more than a waltz in them.

The next song began after only half the length she had expected from a waltz, [Y/N]. It was a brisk foxtrot; all reliant on footwork. As Coriolanus led her into the first sidestep, [Y/N] kicked off her heels without missing a step. She harshly kicked them aside, sliding them to the edge of the dance floor. [Y/N] found she felt tiny now in front of Coriolanus. His smirk doubled at the sight as well. “Better?”

“Much. How about you shrink six inches next time so I don’t have to grow six inches. Seems fair to me.”

Coriolanus laughed cordially. His laugh turned into a sigh when he noticed [Y/N]’s lack of reply. “Are you angry with me?” He was aware that she usually was angry with him, he was asking specifically she to the conversation with her parents.

“Yes, why?”

“Because you’re being extremely rude.” Coriolanus said sharply.

“And?”

“No reason, just making conversation.”

Coriolanus couldn’t figure out what [Y/N] was looking at over his shoulder, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “Wanna make it up to me?” [Y/N] asked. “Posca wasn’t enough.”

“I’ll consider it. The terms?” He replied, spinning her through a tempo change.

“I want to make my parents hurt. I don’t live under their roof anymore. She’s been staring at me since I took my shoes off. See? I’m embarrassing her. And you know how big you owe me.”

This gave Coriolanus pause. Really, he didn’t owe her anything worth a damn. She was as bad to him as he was to her. “Why?”

“You said you could grant me opportunity. Grant me the opportunity of making her feel a fool for making me marry you, Coriolanus. I’m drunk. This offer is only going to work right now.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Blowjob.”

“I have an idea,” Coriolanus said immediately. [Y/N] grinned. His job was having wicked, awful ideas, so it was nice when he delivered. “Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“By the end of tonight, you will,” Coriolanus grimaced. He rotated the pair of them on the dance floor so [Y/N]’s back was to them and he could keep eyes on her parents. “I’m going to touch you.” He whispered in her ear when the music shifted to something more akin to a rumba.

“What?”

In seconds, [Y/N] felt Coriolanus’ nose slide from where he had whispered in her ear and down her neck to above her pulse point. He planted one kiss to her throat. Coriolanus waited before kissing her again to make sure she didn’t throw him halfway across the event hall in rage first. After that, he felt he had the go-ahead to work more forcefully. Coriolanus sensually kissed hard up and down the right side of [Y/N]’s throat, while both of them tried to keep their fuzzy brains clear enough to keep dancing. He kept kissing and sucking at her neck until she let out a nice loud sound of pleasure. That was when he pulled away. He was happy to see a nice purple bruise starting to form on her exposed neck.

“How was that?” He asked dryly, trying to hold off a pending erection.

“You’re out of your mind. Do it again.”

“I’m pretty sure my boss is here, [Y/N]. That was… great, but unless there’s—“

“We got lectured our entire growing up at the Academy to make sure we were to be winners by any means necessary, Coriolanus. Push the envelope. It’s our night. We can do whatever we want. Let’s make it count, at least. With all these cameras here? You keep this up, and your face will be on every periodical in Panem.”

“Yeah, for terrible reasons!”

“Any press is good press and you know that. ‘TROUBLE IN THE ARENA?: GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE BREAKS DOWN AT PARTY,’” she said, showing a fictional headline example. “Below it, a nice picture of me crying and you dusting me off like a dutiful husband. Have your way with me and eventually I’ll snap and cry and accuse you of something you didn’t do, then you can ‘put me in place,’ so to speak. Control the fucking news cycle til everyone knows your name.”

[Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus had in fact agreed to gamble with his image when his hand slid down her back and grabbed her ass. His mouth ducked back into her neck as well, biting harder than [Y/N] expected. [Y/N] let out a painfully loud moan without meaning to.

“You want a show, let’s give ‘em a show.” He muttered against her skin. Coriolanus pulled his hips flush against his. The fabric of her ballgown being the only meaningful barrier between them. After a few moments, they had given up any chance at a rumba. Coriolanus stood over her, kissing her bruisingly hard anywhere we could reach.

“Coriolanus,” [Y/N] muttered. She gripped his shoulder tightly to steady herself. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Coriolanus took his hand out of the one that was clutching hers and slid it up to grab her face harshly between thumb and forefinger. “Can you shut up for a minute? I’ve let you run your mouth all day. It’s getting annoying,” He said, the mask of kindness slipping from his eyes. “You have had a complaint about everything. I put up with it, too. It’s getting… really,” Coriolanus’ hand gripped her ass harder over the ballgown. “Fucking annoying. You’re already making me do all this because I’m a dick. Stop being a brat. Please keep your mouth closed until I want it open, okay?”

He was holding her face so tightly that she couldn’t even nod. That’s when she saw the cameras start flashing, as Coriolanus gripped her by the face like a spoiled child and rubbed her ass in front of everyone she knew. “Yes.” She tried to mumble, but it came out squished.

“Great, then, we’re clear. Don’t think, just follow.” Coriolanus leaned forward and kissed her blazingly. That’s around the time [Y/N] could hear her mother in hysterics stomping to the bathroom. She sighed with relief, but also burned with humiliation. It felt like Coriolanus was practically trying to fuck her with her clothes on.

[Y/N] couldn’t believe this. This wasn’t brutally argumentative Snow, this wasn’t pseudo-gentle Snow. Who was this? What the fuck was he doing? Why did it feel good? [Y/N] felt a shiver tingle down her spine as he kissed her. Aggressively, she kissed back in an attempt at delivering that ruthlessness Coriolanus said he prized. He squashed that quickly and leaned her back, almost knocking her off her feet. She pulled back breathlessly.

[Y/N]’s eyes were darting around the room, watching everyone watching her. She was the show tonight. For the first time in her life, someone had made her the real center of attention that she always craved to me. Coriolanus granted her opportunity. It fucking worked. Her gaze shot back to Coriolanus, looking down at her possessively. He was mouthing something to her, but her intoxicated brain couldn’t signal her eyes to focus enough to piece together his words.

“What?” She whispered, leaning away from him.

More clearly this time, Coriolanus mouthed. “Hit. Me,” He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. “I told you. I’m leading; I have an idea.”

[Y/N] started to shake her head ‘no’ at her insane exhibitionist fiancé, but she remembered she was the one that had asked for a show. Without asking why, [Y/N] feigned disgust and stepped away from Coriolanus. She raised her hand and sharply slapped him across the face. This elicited gasps of shock from their guests. She could see a red mark beginning to develop on Coriolanus’ fair cheek.

Violence like this is what people in the Districts did. This was not what well-bred, promising youth from the Capitol did. The chatter in the room grew in the form of prying hushed whispers. The band stopped playing. This was not how beautiful young girls behaved at their engagement parties. [Y/N]’s stomach dropped. She looked angrily between her vile hand and the mark on Coriolanus’ face. Both of their expressions showed that she had hit him harder than they expected.

“How many men, [Y/N]?” Coriolanus asked, forcefully.

“What?” [Y/N] asked, shocked. She had no idea what he was talking about.

“How many men have had you behind my back?”

It was a fucking act. No truth to it at all. He wanted a rise out of her and so did the cameras. This was exactly what she had asked him, she didn’t realize how seriously he would take her.

[Y/N] sighed. She understood her role and she was going to play it perfectly. “One. Only one, I swear. None since you caught us in bed.” Lie. “Stop. We’re…” she glanced around, playing ashamed of the cameras. “We’re in public, Coriolanus. Please. Don’t cause a scene.” She said, parroting what he had said to her that morning.

That line did the trick. She saw the vein in his forehead pop out. “Don’t cause a scene? You struck me!” Coriolanus roared. “That’s unfair, and you know it.” The ghost of a smirk played on his lips while he clutched his face.

“You wouldn’t hear reason! The accusations you made of me, Coriolanus. You—You—“

Coriolanus surged forward and grabbed her by her forearms. “Accusations that are warranted. I don’t know how you expect me to trust you after something like that! Do you think I’m made of stone?”

“Yes!” [Y/N] yelled truthfully.

Coriolanus paused. “[Y/N], I hurt just as much as you do. You’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight,” He placated. “I just can’t stand to see how these men look at you like that, knowing you would trade me for them in a heartbeat.” He brought the tempo of their fight down with his false melancholy.

“Coriolanus…” [Y/N] said tentatively. “I wouldn’t… Not now. We’ve put that behind us. I-I’m yours and—“

“I made this whole night about you. I…” Coriolanus swallowed dramatically. “I love you.” Lie? “I love you, I spend all night trying to show you that I don’t want anyone but you. I try to make you feel special so you won’t stray again. And you, you hit me… I can’t do anything right enough for you.” He turned his face away, feigning hiding tears and released her arms.

Without the stabilizing touch of Coriolanus, [Y/N] was starting to feel uncertain on her feet from the alcohol. Far from gracefully, [Y/N] sank to the floor, her skirt fanning out around her as it had when she was searching for her shoe earlier that evening. From the drink, the tension and the state of her shambling life, [Y/N] let out an unexpected sob. Coriolanus turned his head in genuine surprise at the sound. “I’m sorry, my love,” she started through sniffles. “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” She looked up at him as her mascara began to drip down her cheeks. “Please forgive me. You have every right to leave, but please, Coriolanus, you’re all I have left.” That part was true. It was all gone. Her childhood home, the security of her parents, university and the Academy were behind her, taxing relationships with friends she had outgrown. Coriolanus was all that remained. [Y/N] cried harder. “I made a mistake.” She howled.

Coriolanus was impressed, to say the least. Cautiously, he knelt down in front of [Y/N]. He would remember this image of her for his whole life. With her mascara running, her stockings ripped, her shoes long missing, the top of her extravagant dress sliding too low for public consumption, she was divine, truthfully. That was her. That was how he would always want to remember her. “Darling?” He said quietly.

Now, the bastard was left open to play the dutiful savior, just as she had teased earlier.

[Y/N] started to twist the engagement ring off of her finger, theatrically. Coriolanus took her obvious bait and took her hand to stop her. He slid the ruby ring back down her finger calmly. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere. You’re drunk. You just need a little help, right? You mustn’t drink so much. It breaks my heart to see you like this,” Coriolanus squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “You need me. I’m not going anywhere. What kind of husband would that make me if I did?”

She nodded. “Thank you,” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re a good man, Coriolanus,” LIE. “You’re too good to me.”

“Come on,” Coriolanus rose from the floor and extended a hand to her. “Let’s get you home, huh?” He said condescendingly.

[Y/N] took his hand carefully. He pulled her up and she stumbled to her feet. Coriolanus wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and pulled her closer. He glanced around in surprise to address the crowd that had gathered in front of them. “I’m sorry for everything you just had to see. Please be kind to my fiancée; she’s had a lot to drink. Posca, right?” Coriolanus darkly attempted a somber joke. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. We’ll be getting home. Thank you all for coming out to celebrate us tonight.” Sorry to call it a night with so much night left.” He said softly.

Coriolanus led her to the edge of the dance floor where he had spotted her shoes. He grabbed the red shoes from the floor and carried them dangling from his free hand as he walked her to the door and down the stairs to the sidewalk. [Y/N] had a vague memory of Coriolanus summoning their driver via the valet at the door. She was too busy noticing how her stockings caught on the sidewalk with every step.

“Darling?” Coriolanus whispered, leaning down to whisper to her. “You were brilliant.”

“Really?” She sniffled hesitantly. “Because I’m fairly certain that everyone in that room hates me.”

“Any press is good press.” Coriolanus reminded her with a gentle kiss to the forehead.

“For you, maybe. I made a mistake asking for that…” she kicked at a stray stone on the sidewalk. “I am probably the biggest villain in Panem right now.” [Y/N] said, shaking her head a little with a sad laugh.

“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”

PART II HERE

TAGLIST:

@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @ndycrls @arminsarlerts @catlover420sstuff @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @watermelonharry @ohantonia @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @nananarwhal @taykorsyogurt

sorry - some of them would not process and actually tag! i tried!!!!! non functional tags indicated with strikethru

[tim-shii]

hi! just found your acc and i just want to say i absolutely adore your work first off. you bring my wife (aventurine) to life beautifully.

saw the as a boyfriend and oh my GOD the part about him getting anxious over reader speaking with ratio? so good. i need jealous pouty aventurine. and honestly might be a bit ooc for ratio but i think he’d encourage it just to get under aventurine’s skin tbh.

up to you though, i’d love for you to write a lil drabble or something of the sorts expanding on this, whatever you have the imagination to write.

that’s all~!

a/n: tysm ?! ure so kind im glad very happy !! that u adore my work 🫶 we have to make sure wife is loved always 🫡 here's jealous aven from this ; @svnarin proofreader !! (she told me to put it here)

cw: bf!aventurine, slight angst

“such lavish proposal. are you certain i am the person who should be hearing that?”

“absolutely. you’re the perfect person i should be consulting about it.”

aventurine is not a jealous person. he’s confident in himself, you had praised him several times of how much of an amazing person he is. jealousy means there’s a lack of trust between the two of you and aventurine doesn’t like that idea at all. he thinks that trust is a significant factor when it comes to relationships. he doesn’t keep secrets and even if he does, he’ll eventually open up to you after some time.

aventurine is a quartz-based gem stone. a stone that brings good fortune and helps you create your own luck. it’s also green. the same green in the monster’s eyes that’s currently chomping down on aventurine. he can’t help it! can he really blame himself when uneasiness swirls in his stomach after seeing you with dr. ratio?

out of everyone he gets jealous of, it just had to be him. veritas ratio. his good friend, veritas. the most logical man aventurine has ever known.

while aventurine is confident in himself, no doubt there’s a part of him that feels inferior to the doctor. the man has radiant violet hair that compliments the tone and structure of his face. he also has a slightly muscular build compared to aventurine’s more slender one. there’s a lot to compare and aventurine isn’t sure if he can even list it all out.

his brows furrowed, eyes dulling as his thoughts consumed him at once. what proposal? what’s that about? and perfect person? he doesn’t understand. are you leaving him? can he really not make you stay? was it something he did? something he said? but he can’t ask you those. because what if instead of an answer, he’ll be greeted with a farewell—

a flick on his forehead snapped him out of the daze. aventurine blinks back, now finding you in front of him.

“i was right. he was sulking.” he hears veritas quip.

“not sulking. more of, in a daze.” your fingers thread through his soft locks, aventurine hums at the affection, absentmindedly leaning his cheek on your palm.

“you give him too much credit. he’s probably wallowing in the sorrows of his mind for no apparent reason.” ratio snickers ever so quietly.

“or he could just be tired and sleep deprived.”

“or he’s jealous. he glares at me any longer, my skin will start withering and rotting.” for a doctor who has more than eight doctoral degrees, he can be quite the drama queen.

“goodbye, doctor. thank you for your opinion, i shall greatly treasure your wise words.” veritas only shook his head before slipping out the door. once he’s left, all your attention shifts to your boyfriend.

aventurine lets you sit atop his lap, gloved hands instantly finding home on your hips. for a moment, you both stare at each other in complete silence.

“spit it out. what’s wrong?” you spoke first.

aventurine sighs. “i didn’t like seeing you with him.” for all his life, lying came easy. with his good looks and charming personality, making people believe whatever he says is child’s play. but aventurine can never lie to you. he doesn’t have the heart to face you once you’ve realized he’s fooled with your thoughts.

you raised a brow in amusement. “so you were jealous?”

“no. i don’t get jealous.” he grumbles. “i just,” aventurine gazes at you with a fond look, an expression so serene and completely enamored. “i’m better looking than him, right?”

blood rushed to his cheeks when he felt your lips on his. his hold moved from your hips to your neck to deepen the kiss, left thumb caressing over your pulse. he chases your lips like an intoxicated man once you pulled away. only to be stopped by you leaning your forehead on his.

“the best looking man in my life and in the whole universe. my most beloved, too.”

“you flatter me.” he grins stupidly before pulling you in for another kiss.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist

[atyourmerci]

I don’t care that you’re a stoner

Ceo!abby

Dr. A.A

CW: smut, MDNI, dom!abby, mean!abby, sub!reader, light bondage (belt), tribbing brrr, talks of strap usage, tribbing breeding kink brrr, degradation, fingering, cum play

A/N: this is technically a drabble but I gave it a title bc that’s what Chappell deserves

◊

Why Dr. Anderson decided to come to you, your pathetic excuse of an ‘office’ instead of your usual frequent visits to hers, was beyond you. Following her around like a dog to her every beck and call. Having to call her doctor since she insisted on getting her doctorate in finance…fucking prick.

Even your credentials, your place in the hierarchy of the company didn’t exclude you from being her little bitch. She seldom gave you the decency of just looking at you when you did her dirty work. Filing her papers, calling her clients, getting her coffee, black of course, like she would drink anything with an ounce of happiness.

She never thanked you. She made it clear where you stood to her, below her. A bleeding, breathing, able-minded body. It could be you, or the next, as long as it was done correctly.

So nice of her as she glares at you from the door of your office that was always open. “What are your plans for tonight?” She says driving her veiny wrists into her slack pockets, her normal intimidating eyes driving into your soul.

“I should be done that paperwork by six, is there something else I need to get to you?”

“After that,” she remarks sternly, as if you should’ve know that, as if that was something she’d ever asked before.

“Uhh go home?” You answer dumbly, utterly confused by her insistence on your personal endeavors.

“Come out with us tonight. We go to max’s down the road,” it was a question with no opportunity for refusal. You didn’t say no to Dr.Anderson.

“Oh I don’t-“ you shake your head before she cuts you off.

“I know I can smell you. Seven. Tonight.”

Sprawled out, aggressively stripped of your outing dress, on her luxurious thousand thread cotton sheets. Dr. Anderson’s Louis Vuitton belt tied around your wrist, her attempt to regain dominance.

Even as she’s panting, muffled curses coming out as pleas as she grinds her soaking cunt against your own. Her clit is so swollen now, after completely abusing your hole. Her pent up arousal seeping into the sticky mess she created with her relentless thrusts earlier.

“Couldn’t fucking stop thinking ‘bout this,” she pants out, rutting into you like a dog in heat, her sticky white cum ruining her precious expensive sheets.

You can’t seem to find words to remark her pathetic admission, so completely fucked out from your previous orgasm.

Kneading your breast in her hand she brings her teeth to your neck, biting down on the thin flesh, sure to leave marks for everyone to see. But that wasn’t enough for her.

“Gonna cum in this needy pussy, let everyone know how much of a whore you are.”

A guttural moan leaves your throat, the thought of her marking you, claiming you as hers.

“Hmm the little slut likes that? Getting used as my fucking cumdump?”

The only thing you can seem to mutter out is a sad ‘mhmm’ as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

A ‘fucking slut’ is heard in the background as you feel her reposition herself, turning herself sideways inbetween your legs, throwing your leg over her shoulder. She reconnects your swollen clits, with the addition of sliding two of her thick fingers back into you. Slipping in with ease, coating her fingers with the mix of pearl slick.

“FUCK,” you come back to your senses at the new sensation, needing to hold onto anything but your hands are still bound by her belt.

“Still so fucking tight, need to stretch her out so it’ll only feel good when I do it.” Her pace beginning to quicken, her hips bucking into your thigh. Her teeth biting into the flesh of your thigh, holding back whimpers of your name.

“B-better take all my cum. Every last drop slut,” she begins losing herself, her thrusts only getting sloppier. Gripping into the flesh of your thighs to stabilize herself, trying to get you off again before herself.

“I-I promise doctor.”

Was what set her off, dropping her head back as her mouth gapes. “fuckfuckholyfuck,” her legs begin to shake, hot white cream dripping out of her pulsing hole, dripping down your clit and finding its home in your own twitching abandoned hole.

Huffing out as she regains her stability, realizing she’s losing time, her cum dripping down to her sheets and spreading. Not where she needed it.

She takes her fingers back to your cunt, scooping up what’s left, pushing it deep inside of you and keeping them as far as she can get.

“This is what you wanted huh? Nasty fucking mess stuffed with my cum,” she says with a grin of the devil herself. So pleased seeing you so dumb for her, another level of submission she could coax you into.

You give a pathetic nod, feeling her cum painting your walls as she’s deep in your cervix. She begins giving tantalizing licks to your clit as she watches your chest rise and fall.

“Abby please-“

Before you could finish you feel a rough grab on your belt adorned wrists, pulling you up to face her.

“Get the rest you missed.” She says pulling you down into the sheets, your mouth opening instinctively. Licking the cum soaked cotton sheets as she watches you from below her.

Once she’s satisfied she grips your jaw in her hand, guiding your gaze to her soaking cunt, still dripping with the mix of both of your orgasms-

“Every. Last. Drop.”

[oomisluvr]

SPOILED ROTTEN

(SEE: RICHBOY!SAKUSA SPOILS YOU A LITTLE TOO MUCH).

“ABSOLUTELY not.” He deadpans, glaring at you like you’ve just kicked his dog and insulted his mother. It’s not a kind tone, “Don’t ask me again.” 

“Kiyoomi, you always do this,” you seethe, ignoring the discomfort of the round-cheeked waitress holding the card reader, “Let. Me. Pay.”

“Fuck. No.” He returns, redirecting his attention to the server and handing her his card, “I’m terribly sorry about her. Debit, please.”

“Sakusa Kiyoomi.” You say as she scurries off, clearly amused at the battlefield the two of you have created in the center of this high-end, dimly lit restaurant. You wouldn’t be surprised to find a moviestar seated at the table behind you. 

He repeats your name back to you in the same tone you used with him, a handsome grin on his face, “Yes, my love?”

“Stop paying for everything!” You demand, “People already think I’m using you for your money, and you aren’t really helping my case.” You’ve seen the tweets. Some are accusatory. Some are happy for you. None of them attest to your character. 

“Well,” he leans over the table, finding your hands and softly stroking the knuckle there, trapping you in his coffee-cold gaze, “Are you using me for my money?”

“No,” you grumble, a little flustered at his forwardness, “But still–”

He releases your hand as the words leave your mouth, a satisfactory smile tugging at his lips, “Then there’s no issue. Though, I wouldn’t be opposed to you using me for money. I’m a useful guy.”

“Kiyoomi, that’s not the point–”

“As a matter of fact,” he sifts through his wallet to find what he’s looking for, gently sliding it across the table when he locates whatever it is, “I’ve been meaning to give this to you.”

The young waitress returns with a smooth leather checkbook and a pen. He thanks her as she walks off, delivering his signature to the flimsy receipt with a few flicks of his wrist, “What’s twenty percent of two hundred? I wasn’t good at math.”

You don’t answer that, “You can’t be serious. Kiyoomi, I can’t accept–”

“Is fifty dollars enough to tip? Fuck it, I’ll just leave sixty.”

“This is your credit card.”

“You have great eyesight,” he comments, shrugging like it’s nothing, “And I have good credit. Use it for whatever. I’ll pay it off.”

You nearly laugh at the absurdity of it all, “Since when were you so confident?”

“When you started giving me attention,” He grins easily, “I’d do a lot of things to get you to pay attention to me.”

His transparency catches you off guard, “You’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he fires back, “You’re too pretty to not be taken seriously.” 

You sigh, face feeling hot. 

“You’re too much,” It takes a great effort to fight back the grin that threatens to break through, to suppress a smile at his ease, “Let’s go home.”

“Why don’t we go find something sweet?” He offers, standing to help you into your coat, “There’s a good ice cream place around here that stays open late.”

Your shy smile gives Kiyoomi enough of an answer. Thanking the staff as the two of you head for the door, he slithers a sneaky arm around your waist.

“I’ll even let you pay,” he flirts, pulling you closer to combat the late-night temperatures, “With your new credit card, of course.”

This was so self-indulgent it's actually ridiculous. Marrying rich is a very real, very serious goal of mine. Hmu for offers serious inquires ONLY <33

[togrowoldinv]

Meeting the Team

Carol Danvers x Female Reader

Carol brings Monica and Kamala home to take refuge for an evening and to meet her wife. Fluff ensues

Note: I was just thinking about Carol having a secret wife and the lovely Monica and Kamala meeting her. Enjoy this one!

Carol Danvers Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You’re stirred from your sleep when you hear the sound of a ship landing near your house. You hope it’s Carol’s.

When you hear the sound of the front door unlocking, you roll out of bed and walk to greet her in the front room.

She’s in her suit but it looks a little worse for wear. Carol catches sight of you and the weight falls off her shoulders.

“Hey sweetheart,” Carol says softly, a smirk rests on her face.

You cross the room quickly and pull her into a hug. She flinches due to her own soreness but keeps hugging you anyways.

“Are you okay?” You ask her, grabbing her face in your hands.

“I’m okay,” she says.

Her eyes are determined. You realize she’s here just for a short time to regroup or gather some information.

“I missed you,” you say.

“I missed you,” Carol replies.

You lean in to kiss her but you stop short when you see two women, or rather one woman and one teenage girl, walk in the door behind her.

“Carol?” You alert her to the presence.

“It’s okay,” Carol says. “We’re- well I guess we’re a team.”

“We are so a team,” the teenage girl says.

Carol tries to hold back a smile but you see it on her face that she likes these teammates. She turns around and holds you by the waist.

“Y/n, this is Kamala and Monica,” Carol says.

“Wait, the Monica?” You ask. The woman’s eyes flash to Carol’s at your words.

“Yeah,” Carol says. “Our powers are entangled.”

“Right, okay. It’s nice to meet you both, come on in and make yourself comfortable,” you say.

They move to sit on the couch. Carol goes to the bathroom to freshen up first.

“What was your name again?” Monica asks you.

“Y/n,” you supply. “I’m Carol’s wife.”

“Oh my god,” Kamala says, mostly to herself.

“What?” You ask.

“Oh, she’s just a fan girl,” Monica explains. “She’ll be writing fanfiction later about Carol having a secret wife.”

You chuckle at the girl’s antics. You can’t blame her for loving Carol enough to want to create new versions of her.

“Carol and I got married a few years ago,” you say. “But we really haven’t been able to spend much time together. Planets need saving and all that.”

“Sounds familiar,” Monica says.

Carol enters the room and sits down next to you with a sigh. You want to ask more about her reuniting with Monica but that’s for another time when it’s just the two of you.

“Do you have powers?” Kamala asks. You realize this girl has a talent for breaking awkward silences.

“I do not,” you say. “Although, wrangling this one in should be considered a power.”

“Wow,” Carol says. “I’m offended.”

“Don’t be, baby,” you say. You kiss her cheek and she tries to hide her blush. “It’s a privilege to love you. Even when you run off to space for months at a time.”

“You could go with me if you want,” Carol shrugs.

“Nope. That’s your world up there. Not mine,” you reply. Carol only smiles. “Are you guys hungry?”

“Starving,” Kamala answers. “I mean no, we’re good.”

“Come with me,” you tell her.

You lead the girl into the kitchen and let her take her pick of food to eat. She settles on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Kamala asks you a few questions about Carol and your relationship. She seems genuinely excited with every answer she receives.

Monica and Carol are in the living room still. You don’t hear much talking, so you make Carol a sandwich and go get her.

“Babe, I made you a sandwich,” you say. “Please eat at least half. I know you haven’t been remembering to eat a lot.”

“I’m fine,” Carol says. “I get enough.”

“Go.” You leave no room for argument. She sighs and goes to the kitchen. That leaves you alone with Monica.

The woman is sitting on the couch. You know from her vantage point that she can see the framed photo of Maria that Carol keeps on the shelf.

“I’m sorry to hear about your mom,” you say, not really knowing what to say.

“Oh, thanks,” she replies.

“You know I think Carol has some more pictures around here somewhere,” you say. “Maybe next time you come by we can look for them.”

“Yeah,” Monica says noncommittally.

“Do you need anything? A drink, food, medicine?” You ask.

“Thank you. I’m okay,” Monica says.

“Are you sure? I can tell Carol is sore so I can imagine you all are,” you say.

“You can tell that about her just from looking at her?”

“From the hug. She flinched,” you explain. “She never admits she’s hurting, but I know she is. Although, I do see a part of her healing. Probably from reuniting with you. She seems happier.”

Monica nods. She knows that this has meant a lot to Carol. It means a lot to her too, but right now she’s still a bit hardened to the idea of being in her presence again.

Carol and Kamala come back into the room before you can say anything else. You help show them where to sleep and then end up back your bedroom with Carol.

She changes into some pajamas and snuggles into bed next to you. You rest your head against her shoulder.

“How long?” You ask her.

“Just until morning,” Carol replies. “I need to fix a part of my ship. And I wanted to see you.”

“How are you doing with this whole Monica thing?”

Carol takes a deep breath. She hasn’t really had time to stop and think about it.

“I’m okay I think,” she says. “I’m good. It’s amazing how she’s grown up to be so wonderful.”

“Yeah? She has powers, that’s insane.”

“I know,” Carol says. “I didn’t know that until I saw her with Fury. She’s really a great person too. I definitely couldn’t keep Kamala as safe without her.”

“What’s the deal with Kamala? She’s a kid who loves you?” You ask, a chuckle escaping from your lips.

“Apparently,” Carol sighs. “But I really don’t feel like I’m a good role model for her. Maybe she’s seeing that in the choices I’ve already had to make in front of her.”

“Hey, you always do your best. Sacrifices are necessary. You know that, baby,” you try to encourage her. “The way that girl looks at you definitely makes me know that she looks up to you.”

Carol kisses your head and rubs a hand over your back. It’s slightly warmer than normal, meaning she’s using her powers to help you relax.

“We need some sleep,” Carol says.

“We do,” you reply. “Hey, don’t let me forget to tell Kamala in the morning about how we met.”

“Oh god, she’s going to write a story about it,” Carol says. “Whatever fanfiction is.”

“It’s fantastic,” you reply.

“You know what it is?”

“Of course, babe.”

“And you’ve read it?” She asks. You nod. “About me?”

“No,” you laugh out. “I don’t need to when I have you already, my love. Although, I do need some new content.”

Carol grins mischievously. She’s sent you countless videos, pictures, and voice memos over the years. But it has been a while since she has done that for you.

“Tell you what, when this thing is over I’m coming back home for a while,” she says. “And we can spend our time doing whatever we want.”

“I’d love that,” you say. “Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight, my beautiful wife,” Carol replies.

You kiss her lips for a few minutes before you both feel the weight of sleep fall over you.

When you wake in the morning, you spend a few more hours with Carol, Kamala, and Monica. The goodbye is always hard, but you know Carol will come back to you. She always does.

[roturo]

BAD IDEA, RIGHT?

INUMAKI TOGE X READER

SUMMARY: meeting up with your old friends sounded like a good idea, turns out lying and saying you and your ex ended up as a friends would include him there, so that was a bad idea of yours.

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, subspace, exes!to lovers, use of curse energy for sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, use of sign language, almost caught, after care, dacryphilia.

Life has been great.

Ever since you broke up with Inumaki things have been just fine. Both of you decided to end up as friends. Which might be awkward between the both of you but when you’re together around other people it wasn’t that bad.

You decided to focus on your training, even though it became a little bit too much to be at the same place with your ex… so you decided to live alone and start a new life. College is a new experience and it has been really fun! Training at home wasn’t as effective and efficient as training with Gojo-sensei and your friends… but, you felt more comfortable this way.

Some days you felt like exorcizing some curse and just walked through the city and found one.

Just for fun.

That’s what Maki told you. ‘Let’s hang out all of us together like the old times! Just for some fun!’

And everything was going great! But you never expected Yuuji to enter next to Inumaki into Maki’s room. You haven’t seen him in like four? six months? It’s been a while…

And to say he looked even more handsome than last time is understandable. Half a year and he grew up. He seemed taller than last time, his shoulders broader, and his hands…

You scold yourself for staring too long at him. His eyes locked with yours and a small awkward silence was in the room. But thankfully, Yuuji couldn’t tolerate silence and proposed to order some pizza and talk about how things have been.

You told them about your new friends at college, how you've been auto-training yourself, and how you felt like a new person.

Inumaki felt nostalgic. Watching you grow up and create a life without him made him sad. Thinking about the old times and how you talked to him for hours about having a family. How you stayed with him even if he couldn’t communicate himself like others, he loved you, and he missed you.

You missed him too, and when Maki asked if you were comfortable right now, even if your ex is literally like less than two meters in front of you, you said, ‘yeah! why not, we didn’t end on bad terms! can’t do people reconnect? I only see him as a friend.’

The biggest lie you ever said.

But the both of you knew those glance you gave each other, you needed the other… So when Maki accompanied Yuuji for the pizza you couldn’t control yourself.

And I mean like you couldn’t control yourself literally, he controlled you. He took his hands off.

‘Follow me.’

Your body was moving without your permission. Following Inumaki to what you assumed was his room. A tingly feeling dressed as nervousness was appearing in the low part of your tummy.

You felt anxious? excited? euphoric?

You missed him so much it was hurting, so when you got inside his room, thinking about if what’s going to occur was correct, you stared at your phone for some second before murmuring to yourself ‘fuck it, it’s fine’ —the first thing you did when you had control back was send a text to Maki.

‘I’m sleeping in another place.’ Maybe she’ll think you didn’t feel comfortable enough and needed to leave.

But maybe that’s not the case. You might sleep on someone else's sheets.

‘Inumaki…’

‘Shh… Undress yourself.’— You wanted to first kiss him, but he seemed eager to have you— and how could you say no? Maybe he wasn’t even controlling you and you were doing it for your own taste.

Feeling vulnerable in front of him— he grabbed you by the waist pulling you closer to his clothes body and started kissing you like a hungry man— You missed his touch and he missed yours.

Coming here wasn’t a bad idea… right?

Wrong.

Your body was sore and twitching of how many times he has made you cum. He’s been eating you out for hours now— with just one word making you cut whenever he felt like it. Making symbols on your pussy of what you suppose it’s his curse marks— Your eyes were full of tears, vision blurry and feeling dizzy.

‘N-no more ‘Inu..’

‘Osaka ‘ Was all he said, keeping a straight face before watching you before continuing eating you out— ‘Squirt.’ Your body shook before your vision turned black and everything felt a thousand times more— his fingers inside of you, slurping your fluids out of you. It was a disgusting mess— but he loved watching you turn into a mess thanks to him. It was his mess.

He never abused so much of his power on you, but this time it was different. He needed you, he wanted you.

Once he felt he got enough of your poor and used pussy, he got up— Watching you trying to keep your eyes open. Makeup ruined, hair tangled and tears coming down your eyes. You felt fucked out— feeling sore on parts of your body you never thought could get sore. Trying to plead for your sanity was met with deaf ears.

He started unbuckling his belt, and turned his middle and ring finger down, making the sign ‘I love you’ before signaling he missed you so much and needed you. Sign language was a common thing between the both of you because of his cursed technique. Just a few words, because it’s like destiny brought the two of you together because in some ways you always knew what the other needed.

He teased your cunt with his dick before inserting it in. You were on missionary, him on top of you while he admired the mess you became. He thrusted inside of you with no warning, your fucked up pussy with no need to make it even more sensitive for you to cum, he just started searching for his release.

When he watched you not even being able to say coherent words, tears just streaming down your face, your eyes almost closed and moans coming out of your mouth was enough for him to cum inside of you. The fucked up image of you— thanks to him— will be forever engraved in his mind. He needs you, he needs to be back together.

He groaned at the feeling of your cunt hugging his cock once he came, his body shaking before laying down beside you. Heavy breathings filling the room, he looked back at you and found you staring at him too. A smile adorned his face, moving his body so he could hug yours— playing with your hair and giving you small pecks he heard a knock on his door. 

He supposed you’re still in a subspace and grabbed his boxers, slightly opening the door so only his face was visible— a confused blushed Yuuji was in front of his door. ‘Inumaki, the pizza is here. We can’t find Y/N though… Do you know where she is?…’

‘Go with Maki.’ Were the words he let out, Yuuji’s body moved without his permission, leaving him alone. 

He looked behind and saw you taking small breaths, your chest going up and down— He smiled to himself, before he grabbed a warm cloth and and started cleaning you up— He searched for some candy he used to have in his room since you were always craving them, he grabbed one water bottle too and repositioned you so your now resting on his pillows. He sat next to you, playing with your hair, waiting till you came back to reality.

Once you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was Inumaki staring at you— Eyes full of love while he played with your hair. You moved so your body was not sitting on his bed, you noticed you’re wearing one of his t-shirts and your panties— You supposed he put them on, he touched your arm and gave you some water and your favorite candy. You looked back at him— surprised he still had some of them here, you smiled at him and drank some water.

You didn’t notice he grabbed a notebook and was writing something until he gave it to you.

‘Can we get back together? You’re all I need, all I love. I would kill any curse, person, thing who tries to hurt you, everything… just to have you back in my arms.’

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Minecraft

Alien: What is the point of this game? Human: It doesn’t have one; you can do whatever you want. Alien: Can I burn this world and leave nothing but ash? Human: Disturbingly specific but go ahead.

------------

Alien: How do I get wood? Human: Punch some trees. Alien: ……….. Alien: Punch some trees. Human: Yup. Alien: Are you mocking me? Human: What? Alien: Do you think I’m some sort of joke? Alien: An object of ridicule for your amusement!? Human: Okay, before you over react let me just show you. Alien: *Starts reaching for sword when they see the human literally start punching trees for wood* Alien: Oh. *Puts sword away* My apologies. -------------

Human: Why aren’t you playing? Alien: There is a monster in my home. Human: Is it an ender man? Alien: No. Human: Skeleton? Alien: No. Human: Creeper? Alien: Nope. Human: ………… Human: Zombie? Alien: Thwarp no. Human: *Takes controller and goes inside the house* What could it possibly be- *Sees creature* Human: That is a pig. Alien: It is the stuff of nightmares. Human: What the hell is scary about a pig? Alien: Look into its eyes. Alien: It has no soul; no remorse. ----------------

Alien: What are you making? Human: A doomsday device. Alien: Are you allowed to build that on a public server? Alien: Surely the admins would seek to stop you. Human: They can’t stop it if they can’t find it. Alien: What did you build? Human: I placed a claim block, fifty blocks down, and started a cow farm. Alien: That doesn’t sound so bad. Human: There are currently five hundred cows in a four block pen. Human: I have seen the amount of lag it generates drive men to madness. Alien: You are the worst of your species. ---------------

Alien: How goes it? Human: I’ve created a massive creeper farm. Alien: Dear gods why?!?! Human: I want to see what happens when one of them is hit by lightning. Alien: Why? Human: I heard that it turns them into a super creeper. Alien: Why would you want to make the sentient explosive even deadlier? Human: To leave as a surprise for that griefer who blew up my chicken farm last week. Alien: Ah. ----------------

Alien: What are you building today? Human: A nether portal Alien: Is that the purple doorway thing in front of you? Human: Yup. Alien: What does it do? Human: It’s a portal to this world’s version of hell. Alien: WHAT?! Alien: Is that not dangerous? Human: I mean, I want glow stone for my city; and the only place to get glow stone is in the nether. Alien: I weep for this world that has you as its caretaker.   ---------------

Alien: Why is all the sand from my beach gone? Human: Needed it. Alien: For what? Human: Copious amounts of TNT. Alien: Do I even want to know why? Human: Remember that village that I defended only for the golem to attack me? Alien: Yeah. Human: Good. Human: Because that memory of yours is all that is left of it. -----------

*stumbling down extensive mine network to find human friend deep underground.* Alien: You ever coming topside again? Alien: I just found these things called “Pandas” and they are adorable. Human: Not until I find a diamond. Alien: Oh gods, here we go again. Human: There’s only fucking copper down here! Human: What the hell can I even use for copper!?! Alien: I think you can make lightning rods out of them. Human: Oh yeah, sure, lightning rods. Human: I’m sure those will be useful SIXTY BLOCKS UNDERGROUND!!!! ------------

Human: What’s this? Alien: I’ve created an elaborate rail system that will allow me to transfer the citizens of one village to another village to make it a super village! Human: Isn’t that considered kidnapping and human trafficking? Alien: ……….. -------------

Alien: I have created these five iron golems to protect my home. Alien: Nothing shall destroy it while I am away! *Alien leaves into mines* *Returns after an hour of mining to find the entire home destroyed by creepers* Alien: What the flarp! Alien: Where are my go- *Turns to see all five golems distracted by some flowers* -------------

Alien: Something just occurred to me. Human: What’s that? Alien: If you can use the portal to this nether, why can’t things down there use it to escape? Human: Pfft. Human: That’s impossible. Alien: Is it? Human: *Dramatic pause before sprinting over to portal with alien behind him* *Both arrive to find legion of pigmen pouring out from the portal* Alien: Congratulations, you created the end times. Alien: I hope that glow stone was worth it. Human: *draws sword* It really was.

[neopuppy]

Puppy Pound (M)

preview. “You have to understand pup, I can’t risk coming home to you destroying every inch of furniture again. Your last rut was really.. something.”

Unlatching the metal collar he hasn’t had to use since Jeno’s first year away from the kennel, Renjun eyes him apologetically. “We have to do this, at least until she’s ready.”

Jeno whimpers, head drooping down as his owner locks the metal collar around his neck, safely storing the key away in his pocket before scratching through the hybrids nape. “Come on pup, into the woods before it gets too dark.”

pairing. dog hybrid Jeno x female dog hybrid reader

genre. hybrid AU, a/b/o subgenders, pwop, M/F, my contribution to the ‘quiet down’ glass box enthusiasts(we finally got Jeno INSIDE🤭)

warnings. profanity, use of ‘pup/puppy’, Renjun’s only here to be a stressed out hybrid caretaker, smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

wc. 8000

now playing. Puppy Pound//Jazmin Bean

smut warnings. puppy rut, prey/predator vibes, restraints, leashing, masturbation, whining, cum eating, biting, choking(‘scruffing’), use of ‘bitch’(once or twice srry), painful orgasm, oral, barbed cock(ex: monsterfucking), knotting, cum inflation, unprotected vaginal sex

“I hate doing this to you pup.”

Renjun sighs with a frown worrying his lips as he gently combs through Jeno’s soft coat. The hybrid had escaped again last night, laid out naked in the backyard with dazed eyes, his blond hair a mess, tail covered in leaves and branches. It could only mean one thing..

“I don’t want to have to muzzle you, but I can’t have you staying here during your rut.”

Jeno whines, pawing at Renjun’s chest with enlarged doe eyes blacked out by his hormones taking over, eliminating the usual tender hues of brown. “I know I know, but you’ve been a real bad boy as of late, haven’t you?”

Instead of answering Jeno proceeds to grumble, swapping his act of innocence for a sleek glare at his owner. The look earning a nervous laugh from the smaller man. “You have to understand pup, I can’t risk coming home to you destroying every inch of furniture again. Your last rut was really.. something.”

Unlatching the metal collar he hasn’t had to use since Jeno’s first year away from the kennel, Renjun eyes him apologetically. “We have to do this, at least until she’s ready.”

Jeno whimpers, head drooping down as his owner locks the metal collar around his neck, safely storing the key away in his pocket before scratching through the hybrids nape to comfort. “Come on pup, into the woods before it gets too dark.”

Renjun hates doing this, he really does, but he knew there could be consequences when he adopted Jeno. The kennel had been very adamant in instructing that he was no average dog hybrid.

‘Part Dobberman? Is that even possible?’

‘He’s a mutant, a mutt but worse. Those damn humans that treat hybrids like god damn toys instead of pets. They were force breeding all types of strains to create some abnormally powerful Alpha dog.’

‘Alpha dog?’

‘Yeah, that’s how Jeno was developed. Samoyed mother ravaged by Dobberman hybrids until she finally gave birth to a litter. He was the only one that survived.. if not for our facilities taking down their set-up who knows where he’d be now. Probably beaten to death by preys much stronger and larger than him in the underground boxing world.’

Jeno’s always been special, even more so because he’s such a unique hybrid. The first time Renjun laid eyes on him he knew he had to bring him home to take care of, even after the hybrid stood to his full size and his cute puppy face suddenly became overshadowed by the expanse of his muscular arms and wide chest.

Even now with a solemn expression wearing the puppies face down Renjun can’t help the pangs in his chest watching his overgrown pup sulk on the trek through the woods. “I’ll bring you back home once your ruts over okay?”

Jeno avoids his gaze, glaring at the glass box with chains inside from corner to corner that he’d been made to sleep in once Renjun realized his hybrid was the one behind the alarming amount of missing neighborhood cats. After discussions and much contemplation with the hybrid clinic they’d settled upon locking Jeno up at night, at least until he became accustomed to wild-life outside of his own. The glass case had done wonders to help him learn resistance and self-restraint to not cause harm, as naive and innocent as his actions were even doing so.

“How about I buy all of your favorite jellies too?” Renjun crouches down, smiling at the hybrid as he begins to unlock the case. He’d come out to clean it yesterday, still covered with remnants of Jeno’s fur from years prior.

“It’s not fair.”

Jeno kicks at leaves and dirt, pouting as he sways and avoids his owner's gaze. “I know it may seem that way Jeno, but she hasn’t ever been bred before. What if I’m at work again when it happens? I can’t take time off just to make sure my hybrids act civil and don’t mate all over my house.”

“I wouldn’t mate her.” Jeno snaps, quietly voicing off ‘yet’ in his head. “But you got her for me! Why can’t I—“

“Because.” Renjun interrupts. “The vet said she’s not ready for..” he motions lower toward the hybrids groin. “That.”

Jeno scoffs, finally taking a look at the case that Renjun at least had the decency to set up with a blanket and pillow this time. Not that it mattered much, despite the last days of Winter still making nights chilly, the hybrids not worried too much about it. “Body heat keeps me warm you know, especially during my rut.”

“I know.” Renjun smiles softly. “I feel so bad putting you out here, but after the last time...”

“She was begging for it.” Jeno rolls his eyes, entering the glass case before he becomes too riled up.

“I believe you Jeno!” Renjun has to ready himself to hoist up one of the chains, struggling slightly with a grimace as he squats and shoves back up, nearly losing his footing.

“I can do it myself.” Jeno grabs the heavy chain metal from his owners hands, glaring as he attaches one to the ring of his collar.

“…it’s heavy, doesn’t it hurt?”

Jeno sighs, hooking the other chain to himself allowing Renjun to lock them in place, the restraint only leaving him with enough room to turn and take a few steps, but not enough to leave the box once closed shut.

“Nothing hurts more than spending my rut alone.” He grumbles, shooting bullets at Renjun with his next sharp look.

The smaller chuckles uncomfortably, anxiously bouncing on his heels as he reaches to shake the chains and insure they’re not going anywhere. “The vet says she’ll be ready soon. Maybe by your next rut things will be different.”

Jeno grinds his teeth to hold himself back from responding full of attitude. The vet can suck it, frankly. He knows you’re ready, you practically ate him alive when your heat hit last time. As much as he wants to believe Renjun’s genuinely concerned for your safety, his Alpha can’t help but patronize him with constant nonsense that their owner is lying, because he wants you all to himself.

“I’ll stop by to drop off some food in the morning before I head to work, you should be fine until then right pup?”

Jeno nods, allowing for Renjun to shut the glass box with him fully trapped inside. The contraption akin to some type of ridiculous Harry Houdini magic trick, except this one didn’t include a trick door to sneak out of for a grandiose reveal.

“Forgive me, okay pup?” Renjun’s frown returns, watching the hybrid with a gloomy expression. Jeno doesn’t want him to think he hates him, but he can’t help to appear irritated the more his need to fuck and breed rises.

“It’s fine.” He grumbles, laying back into the soft blanket with a stiff neck. The metal collar not too heavy for someone with his inhumane amount of strength, moreso annoying the longer he has to wear it.

“You promise?”

Jeno laughs while turning off to the side and shaking his head. “Yeah yeah, I promise, but I fully expect a huge bag of jellies after this.”

“You got it.” Renjun winks, reaching for the set of keys in his pocket. “It’s time.”

Jeno nods, watching as his owner locks him up, scatter brained by the memories of the month he spent doing the same with a remorseful look and his head hung between his shoulders while he backed away and headed home.

The rational human side of himself knows it’s for the best really, you needed stitches last time after trying to take his full size for the first time. The thought of it licks up his back, jerking at his waist as bubbling heat runs through his cock.

You insisted he keep going, he just wanted to feel you a little is all.. but you were too fucking tight. Fists ball up at his hips the more he recalls your wrecked angelic face, tongue hung out like the thirsty puppy you are, wet eyes smiling in spite of the tears tracking down your cheeks.

He can still taste your sweet and salty tears on the tip of his tongue, dragging it between his teeth just to force out any remaining saliva that might still carry traces of your scent.

Renjun has to be home by now, the walks not too far out, just enough that if he somehow manages to escape the collar alarm would give him enough time to lock you up before he can reach the house.

The reminder around his throat only angers him more as he sucks on his drool and fools himself that he can still taste your spit, your arousal trickling down his fingers, and your sweet sweet honey-like tears.

Whining to himself, his eyebrows scrunch together unhappily, it's too early to feel this out of control; but this is what you do to him. It’s what you’ve done to him since the day Renjun brought him back to the kennel after experiencing how terrible Jeno’s ruts truly are.

The clinic advised him to send the dog hybrid away to ‘rut breeding centers’, but they wanted nothing to do with a hybrid such as Jeno; time and time again rejecting his applications until Renjun received a flat out ‘no’ due to the hybrids mutated breed.

It all seemed hopeless until the first time he saw you, frolicking out on the grass with your pretty multi-toned coat shining under the sun. The smile on your face beaming brighter than the sky above you, tail swishing in slow motion as you ran around playing fetch with one of the trainers.

‘That one.’ Jeno said with his nose pressed up to the window, starry-eyed and one second away from drooling.

‘Oh the Siberian is not up for adoption.’

Jeno’s attention snapped to the facility chief fast enough to cause whiplash, baring his teeth in a growl as Renjun jumped before him to create a wall between the two.

‘Why is that?’

‘She’s to be put up for auction later this week, we already have a family interested in her willing to pay thous—‘

‘I’ll pay more.’ Renjun interrupted sternly, gripping at the hybrid ready to blow a gasket behind him. ‘Please, please consider my offer. I’m willing to pay above market price.’

Jeno sighs, ignoring the twitch in his cock as he calms and reminds himself that his owner would do anything for him, even wipe out his savings to satisfy the hybrids insatiable need to fuck and claim.

He just has to be patient.

Not that you make it any easier for him.

No, you made it damn near impossible to control his Alpha. A purebred female Siberian husky, equipped with many of the usual attributes from your animal side, down to the unique heterochromia iridis. The different tones of gorgeous colorful pools that stared at him daily only amplified each fascinated blink, curious longing gaze and coy lustful stare you reserved just for him.

Ah, she makes it hard for me.

A lot of things really, the way his heart rate speeds up whenever you sneak to his bed and burrow into his arms, the way you chase him around and chew on his neck leaving light teeth marks behind, and the way your scent stains every spot around the house that Jeno’s already claimed and thoroughly scented. You make it so hard for him to not bend you over every surface and impale you with his knot until you beg to be mated, claimed and owned.

It’s no secret you’ve been attracted to the Alpha before ever even meeting. From the day Renjun brought you home and initially warmed you up to the hybrids scent by bringing some of Jeno’s clothes along, the attraction was instantaneous upon the first whiff, curiously sniffing around for more of the scent full of testosterone and power.

Finally arriving at your new home only reaffirmed your assumptions, Jeno’s every bit the strong domineering Alpha you’d expected, but he’s special..

While his Dobberman side made him all sharp edged, lethal and territorial, his Samoyed side magnified how irritatingly cute he is, caring and loving even when he wants to be mad at you for pulling on his tail and ears. Jeno could never really get mad at you, instead becoming more playful in your presence, tackling you down gently until you become a meshed pile of laughter and painfully stretched out cheeks. The two of you routinely bathe in each other’s licks to the point that Renjun grimaces when you crush your damp cheeks against his when you thrash into him for a hug, the residue of Jeno’s saliva left smeared behind each time.

He knows deep down inside it will be worth the wait when you’re ready, even if it hurts him now. Even if it means another rut weeping into his palm, the bone crushing feral pain to fuck becoming harder and harder to endure each time. Renjun couldn’t stand watching his hybrid try to recover from another rut alone, but Jeno chose you.. and you had come from a strict Husky farm that bred only pure hybrids. While this was great and ethical considering the ever growing percentage of hybrids that have ended up abused or overly sexualized, it wasn’t ideal for his extremely sex-driven hybrid, but Jeno insisted it had to be you.

Journeying through the muddy haze that's begun to cloud his thoughts, he takes a deep breath and succumbs to the urge to touch himself. It won’t be enough, it’s never enough..

Jeno’s fingers graze across the collar, shivering down his forearm as they meet the cold metal. He knows if he really needed to he could easily break through it, as long as the reason was worth it..

You are worth it though, he thinks, humming to himself; softly stroking down the expanse of his exposed collarbone to mimic the way you caress him when you think he’s asleep. He knows when you’re there, staring at him with those large two-toned dolly eyes, tracing his broad chest between the divets of defined muscle and bone.

The rough pads of his fingers can only do so much, Jeno squeezes his eyes shut, slowly reaching for the waistband of his sweats. He plays with the scrunched material for a moment, reminiscing the strong scent of melted sugar, decadent rich chocolate, syrupy sweet as he lapped the mess off your inner thighs. A low growl rumbles up his chest, finally diving in to encompass his clothed erection. The heat radiating off his length burns through the material of his briefs, palm sweltering as he hisses and forces himself to crush the material around himself.

Fuck, it’s hot.

Jeno can see his deep breath’s fog up the glass, turning his face to the side to contain a moan. He’s barely touched himself and feels ready to burst, an invisible string tugs his spine, threading through his thighs past the filled up sack pulsating there. It trails up, dragged through his length to the tip where he’s pathetically soaking wet. Precum’s made a mess of his briefs, the head of his cock outlined perfectly by the darkened thin cloth drenched over his slit, the girthy mushroom cap shape would terrify most, but he can’t stop picturing the way your face lit up the first time you accidentally walked in on him after a shower.

Jeno gasps, playing with himself by prodding at the wet covered slit, a string of thin wetness attaches to his digit causing his knees to shake. Jerking off hasn’t been the same since you moved in, while he used to do fine with stroking himself once a day, it’s become a time-consuming pass-time with you around.

‘Can I touch?’

You asked so innocently, jaw hung as he stepped out of the shower and patted down his warm skin flushed in shades of pink and red. Flaccid cock jerking on his thigh the second he opened his eyes and spotted you at the door stood still from the shock.

‘You want to?’

Jeno had to bite back a cocky smile threatening to stretch his lips, leading you to sit on the bathroom counter he moved to stand between your thighs, nodding for you to untie the damp towel hanging low on his hips.

‘Is this okay?’ The light touch of your nails tapped along his chest, leisurely gliding down between the etched lines of his contracting stomach muscles. Hot and smooth after thoroughly exfoliating and moisturizing in the shower, needing to take the edge off after watching your AM at home pilates class.

Jeno can feel himself convulse, his hollowed stomach sucking in as he reaches to yank his cock free, tugging his balls above the material of his bottoms for some relief. He groans, just testing the weight, imagining your weaker wrist bending back. The way his length masked nearly the entirety of your palm.

He had to help you back then, not only encourage you to wrap your hand around him, but to stroke and grip firmly, work a repeating motion around his size, to not be scared. The obscene visual of your hand barely being able to wrap around him makes his toes curl in his socks, pushing up higher in the box until the crown of his head hits the top lightly. Groaning between his pursed lips he arches up for more, body fighting his own resistance to take this slow, really draw out the experience.

The rough dryer skin wrapped around his cock will never compare to your dainty smooth hand, the way you held him so cautious and eager at the same time. Asking him ‘what now?’, he can’t believe it even now, how fucking sweet and naive you were just a few months ago; to now crawling on your knees before him, pushing your ass out fully presented begging to be filled.

Jeno twists back and forth down his size, the precum making a huge mess between his fingers, some even reaching the glass when he thrusts forward involuntarily. He can’t control the erratic gyration his hips fall into, can’t suppress an embarrassing whine from exiting his throat. It hurts so bad to know that this is it, unable to even fool himself that you’ll be there when he opens his eyes, that you’re more than just a fantasy for him to get off too and not touch.

Another grunt escapes as he vividly paints your euphoric face behind his eyes, the one you make when you lay back and expose yourself completely for him. Sucking on your finger before reaching down to spread yourself open and plead for the Alpha to use you.

‘Touch me the way I like.’

Jeno can’t breathe anymore, can’t even decipher how fast his fist is fucking up and down his length anymore, he wants to scream, cry, punch a hole through a wall, shatter the glass surrounding him.

He should have fucked you last time, should have came deep inside your womb, should have kept you plugged full of cum for days; but he got scared.

Jeno curses under his breath, feeling guilty as he fucks up into his tightened fist faster. It’s not tight enough, it’s not warm and wet sucking around his cock the way your cunt did. The screams you let out when he managed to enter you only half-way replay in his mind constantly, only wishing he could feel the pathetic excuses of punches you tried slamming against his chest; the faded scratch marks on his shoulders always bringing a smirk to his face when he spots them in his reflection.

“Fuck.” Jeno whines desperately, writhing up to thrust into you faster, give you every inch for once like you deserve. His free hand reaches to glide over the slightly raised skin, retracing the clear memory of your struggle before Renjun rushed in and barreled into him, having to use all of his weight against the hybrid to get him off of you.

Jeno never meant to hurt you, but he can’t deny how good it feels now to get off to, pulling harder and harder on his length; the massive girth pulsating against his palm with each meticulous stroke. He’d do anything to feel your pussy spread apart by his size again, just to be in you, taste your slick arousal all around him. Tears burn at the corners of his clenched eyes before he realizes, the first to drop incinerating down the side of his face.

The worst part is he’s not crying because it feels too good. He’s crying because it hurts. A watery choked sob drowns his next gasp of air, eyes fluttering open to gaze down in disbelief. Swollen from the base to the tip, his cock glares back at him, each vein pulsing angrily. The Alpha inside of him can’t take this anymore, turning on him in his weakest moment.

“Please,” Jeno’s head drops, sniffling his tears and the snot that’s begun to drip from his nose. “Hurts, please it hurts.”

He’s not sure who he’s begging anymore, himself? You? A higher power willing to spare him just this once?

The thought has him blinking up to the sky to ask if God even cares about some mutated hybrid? But the sky no longer appears clear and bright, hidden by darkness, freckled with distant stars and ash gray polluted clouds. Jeno cries harder at the realization that he’s been at this for hours, so deeply sucked into his fantasy that he feels close to hallucinating.

Another sob fights free, shivering as he works through his own pain and continues to play with himself. One hand securely wrapped around the base of his length while the other works to massage through the blood engorged girth throbbing against his palm.

If he had you here, he’d plunge deep inside of you, in and out over and over again without falter. Jeno nods, dry swallowing his next cry, rolling his head forward to find your familiar silhouette approaching slowly. Each step you take looks unreal, not even leaving footprints behind on the dirt and grass as you near the glass case, and he knows he must be going crazy now.

The ruts completely took over, blacked out eyes altering his surroundings into a fever daydream; fogging his senses, morphing him into a mindless fuck-puppy willing to do anything to reach blissed relief. It’s enough to see your face, your immaculate pretty perfect face, even with the worry behind your eyes and an upset slump weighing your shoulders down; he can feel release closer than ever.

Your head tilts, palms laid flat to the case, even wearing one of Jeno’s favorite shirts to sleep in. Unable to properly function, he doesn’t stop to ponder why you’d be wearing that let alone anything at all in his dreams. Instead he growls, pressing forward enough for his nose to crush against the glass, glaring at you with eyes that could devour.

“Alpha?”

Jeno’s body violently twitches, tugging once, twice, not even a third time at his length before aggressively spilling out one of the largest loads of cum he’s ever seen. The mess of it shoots up as he strokes and releases anguished shouts between growls, painting the glass in a creamy thick disaster.

It seems endless where you stand and watch with your jaw hung on the floor, the Alpha relentlessly pulling on his fat reddened length, the head of it near purple from hours of edging himself.

“Oh my god..” you whisper, fearfully nibbling your nails as he snaps back to your face with more black than white overtaking his gaze.

Jeno’s drooling now, his face entirely wet from crying, sniffling, spit working down to gather at the base of his thick neck.

“Alpha..” the name rolls off your tongue again, stifling your breath as you begin to tremble beneath his nefarious expression. “Al-alpha, I want to help you..”

Jeno flinches when you call for him again, his hard size not going down a bit, painfully swollen in his grasp. He topples forward, the chains leaving him no other choice than to press against the glass, the front of his sweats and cock smearing his last bits of arousal that haven’t slid down all the way.

“Touch me.” A gasp gets stuck in your throat, never seeing his mouth move despite hearing Jeno’s voice around you.

He looks wrecked, eyes half-rolled up, sweat dripping down to hang in tear drops along his defined jaw. It’s shocking to see the typically strong Alpha in this state, weak and still pumping his length uncontrollably, huffing hot breaths against the glass rapidly with each jerk around his size.

Renjun would be furious if he found out you only lied about your stomach hurting to lure him to the living room, pleading for your owner to pet your tummy pain away knowing good and well nothing hurt other than the burning ache between your thighs. Requesting tea to help you sleep did the trick, throwing yourself and whining about your cramps for more soothing comfort as you slipped crushed up sleeping pills in his steamy mug, chewing at all of your cuticles until he finally passed out and laid limply on the couch. The key he’d kept tucked away in his pocket seemed important, continuing to pat the area mindlessly throughout the evening.

‘Forgive me.’ You whispered, stealing the key before heading out and following scraps of Jeno’s scent still lingering in the crisp night air.

Your own scent spiked the closer you reached him, confused mostly by the notes of sour hidden in his usual aromatic comforting scent. It’s clear the Alphas emotions have gone haywire the more you pick up frustration, anger and arousal with each sniff.

“Jeno.” Heat swarms through your gut when you finally find him, crumpled up inside of a glass case miserably jerking himself off. His statuesque features wrinkled together in distress, even his arm and wrist appearing strained as you slowly walk up to him, treading lightly and mildly afraid.

The Alpha seems too dazed to realize how loud he screams, thrashing wildly as his release rips free, concaving the skin of his stomach that’s visible with his shirt shoved up to his waist. Jeno’s never looked so pathetic, groveling and sobbing, furiously trying to empty every drop of cum from his cock. The tip shoots out weak little jerky spurts by the end, leaving him boneless, choked by the collar keeping him held up in place.

It’s only as he begins to come down that he blinks at you between tears clumping his long dark eyelashes together, gasping short staggered breaths as he scans your face.

Puppy.

Jeno wants to cry for you, call out your name, scream until his chest rips at the seams; throat too dry to let out more than a whimper, a broken wail at best. The Alpha tenses, reaching to tap his fingers against the glass, each large vein lining his bicep thumping rapidly as he scratches down; silently pleading to be released.

“Jeno, I need you..”

The cracked whine in your tone makes his chest cave in, every instinct shouting that his mate needs him, his Omega needs to be taken care of, fucked and bred full of pups. The collar around his throat tightens with each gulp, laxed as he falls forward pitifully and whines, clawing at the glass door desperately.

“Need you.. Alpha..” crumbling to your knees you lock him in place with a heady gaze, chest dragging down the glass. Pert nipples hardened by arousal and cool night air, stiff through the material of his shirt clinging to your curves. Jeno wants to fall with you, buckling at his knees uncontrollably, the boney points hitting glass where his cums dripped down to. He can hardly breathe anymore, choking himself the more he attempts to move and break free, face gone different tones of red and pink from lack of air.

Brain fog clears enough to recall you’d remembered to grab the keys Renjun was trying to hide, patting way down to your hips to find where you shoved them inside of your underwear. The Alphas glazed over eyes stare down blearily, foaming at the corners of his lips as he continues to flex and strain each muscle, rattling the chains holding him down with small strategic movements to break free of the binds.

Jeno can’t think beyond escaping, surrounded by your heavy scent of arousal, the air thick enough to swallow and melt on his tongue; it’s too much, making his cock jump with each breath. His rut fully taken over to the point of hallucination, every thought shoved aside by the need to claim, fuck, and breed.

Stress consumes your chest, fumbling the keys and having to try a few different ones that won’t fit into the lock. “Fuck fuck.” Slippery hands make it impossible to work faster, glancing back as Jeno’s face morphs to a deep shade of red, each vein on his forehead protruding out violently near the brink of bursting.

Each failed attempt to unlock him heightens the sound of wilderness surrounding you, each bird swarming the area chirps louder, every snap of twig spine wrenching, wind howling around menacingly to taunt you for making your Alpha suffer. The latch finally gives, the sound of it cutting through your throat, catching your breath with a wrapped fist; everything muted by the dramatic fall landing the padlock in a pile of leaves and dirt by your knees.

Jeno’s growl could break glass, shaking the ground beneath you as he finally rips the chains from metal hooks Renjun paid extra money to install, guaranteed not even a wild beast would be able to escape.

It shouldn’t terrify you this much, inching back on your knees with a frightful gaze, but the Alphas never looked this deranged before. Drool gathers down his chin, snarling and shoving the glass open, he pauses, standing in place breathing wildly; chest collapsing in with each deep drawn inhale.

More than animalistic, Jeno seems voracious, treading forward in disbelief as the soles of his feet meet the outside of the box. Tongue lapping at the collection of saliva pouring from his swollen gnawed lips. He watches you curiously, blazed eyes tilting with his head as he stands above you engulfing your body in a shadow of heat.

It’s your fault, all of this, chasing the Alpha everyday, flaunting your rapturous seductive scent in his face only to deny him; forcing him to get locked up to keep you safe and protected.

“Present.” Jeno growls, baring the top row of his teeth, akin to a rabid dog with tendrils of drool hanging from his jawline.

“Jeno..”

Lunging forward, his teeth snap together, reaching for a tuft of your hair to stop you from crawling away. “What did you just call me?”

Jeno fumes, shaking you by the grip around your hair painfully, each strand aching from the small rough tugs pushing you side to side.

“Alpha?” You groan and hiss, reaching for his hips to keep steady and alleviate the pain surging down to your nape. “Alpha, hurts..”

“Then submit.” Jeno shoves you back, pushing his foot into your hip to get you on all fours. “Don’t make me say it again.”

“B-but.. I c-can’t—“ Jeno doesn’t let you finish, without another second of hesitation he buries a foot under your hip and effortlessly forces you onto your front. “Alpha! N-no!”

“Shut up,” Jeno sinks down, cupping your hips to set you steady on your knees. “Submit like a good bitch for once.”

“We can’t! Our owner said!—“

“I don’t fucking care.” Jeno snarls, encompassing your exposed rear with hot thick palms. He’s never this combative, never this cruel and relentless; delivering a lash of a slap to your ass with one hand as his other reaches lower to shove your shoulder down and press your chest to the ground. “You belong to me.”

“We can’t! It won’t fit!” The thought of Jeno’s massive size sets shivers off throughout your limbs, bad enough last time you tried to take him that you had to ice yourself for the rest of the day even after a vet visit as Renjun stomped around scolding him for hurting you. Not even more than a few inches of his thick girth had managed to glide inside of you before belting out deadly shrieks.

“I’ll make it fit.” He grunts, wedging your underwear up between the globes of your ass, kneading and palming the fat that folds over onto your lower back with teeth snapping loudly. “This is what you’re made for.”

Rustling noises alert you, blinking rapidly and failing to turn your head with the Alphas weight keeping you in place, unable to see him undressing as fast as possible with one hand. “You’re going to be good for me puppy.” Jeno says, more so commands, smoothing down to shove your hair away and grip the back of your neck. “Beg for it.”

Slotted between your thighs he gathers your underwear to stretch out, pushing the blunt wet tip of his length against your tight flexed hole. The dampness kissing yours noisily, splitting your labia folds open releasing wads of wetness down between your thighs. The visual tugging a groan from the back of his chest, fingers looped around his cock painfully tight to stop from thrusting all the way in. He needs to remain collected, give you time to adjust, no matter how rageful the veins striping his rod appear.

“..A-alpha— please, be nice..” you whimper, suffocating the more Jeno clutches your neck, the more he prods your folds side to side; admiring the fatty flesh framing his angry swollen tip, foreskin stretched back displaying the full mushroom cap shining with precum. The same one you ‘oooo’ and ‘aaaahhh’ for every time.

“I’m always nice puppy,” Jeno’s tongue clicks, licking the backs of his teeth to gather saliva, mouth dehydrated, thirsting for a taste. “Always so nice to you, too nice. That’s why you’re gushing around me..” shaking his head he dips in an inch, biting down on his bottom lip hard enough to break skin. The giant head obscene trying to push in past your tight hole, immediately suctioned by wet warmth sucking around him in a way that makes his stomach twitch; muscles convulsing between etched lines, sucked in as he takes in a long deep ragged breath.

“Fuck!” Jeno howls, losing the battle with his Alpha, needing to feel you wrapped around each inch. He sinks in with precision, cock sliding through your creamy silk folds with ease. He’s too big regardless of how much you leak around the wide expanse of meat stretching you open with each inch, pushing arousal to drip down his thighs, noisily spurting and bubbling with each short thrust.

Jeno blows your puffed up tail away, nipping at it, slapping his cheek fretfully with each dip of his length. The constant whines you screech out only annoy him all the more. “Such a greedy puppy.” The Alpha hums, digging his neatly filed nails into the sides of your throat, a silent warning to quell the tremors shooting up your tail. “Take take take, that’s all you know how to do. Now it’s my turn to take.”

Jeno’s tone dives into a deeper octave, more sadistic and grim, causing you to scratch at the ground to scurry away; fight or flight instinct taking over and screaming to run. The spike of fear muddying your scent has him caging your neck tighter, fingers curled into your throat cutting your breaths short.

“Teach you how to be my good puppy.” He emphasizes by rocking his hips forward, balls smacking your clit with a heavy land, splashing obscene amounts of wetness between your thighs. The action flutters your eyes shut in humiliation as he tugs your neck back enough to scruff you, assuaging your fear with another deep hum and domineering clutched grip. “This is for your own good.”

The last time you can remember being tamed in such a way had to be when you were still a rambunctious newborn, only faintly recalling when your guardians would gather the skin at your nape to settle you down. Jeno had never gone as far as to scruff you, overtaken by his Alphas needs to be in control, he licks up your jaw without apologizing, teeth pinching your cheek with a soft nip. “Such a cute cute, pretty puppy.”

Hauling you back to lay against his chest, he reaches around to grab your stomach, sitting you fully onto his cock; cunt barely able to squeeze around the mass stretching you out. “So deep inside of you pup..” Jeno’s nose drags down your cheek, drool smearing from his pink wet lips. “Feel so good, perfect for me. Fucking made for me baby.”

Between sniffles you try to agree, caught between pleasure and pain fighting for dominance, losing the fight to your desires when his long digits apply pressure under your navel. “Feel that puppy?”

Gargled spit rises up your throat, blinking away the droplets of tears hanging from the rims of your big wet eyes; mustering up nothing more than hiccups and erratic nods. Huffing from his nose, the Alphas tongue hangs out, licking up your soaked cheek. The entire scene filthy and animalistic, cock buried in deep enough to teasingly kiss your cervix, helpless and weak like nothing more than a stupid prey falling into your predator’s devious trap.

“Alpha!” Jeno’s hands collar your throat even tighter somehow, leveraging his weight above you to rise higher and slip fully out only to pummel into you fast and recklessly. Air flow completely constricted by his strong palms bracketing your throat. Each thrust buries him in deeper than the last leaving you gasping deliriously, fully rearranging your insides with every violent blow meeting your cervix. Fucking worse than a dog in heat, he screams gravely, teeth grinding together, cock chubbed up with blood pushing your walls to stretch open to take all of him.

Without warning he cums, pushing it deeper and deeper without falter, nothing in his movement indicating that he’s ready to stop. The sounds behind you pure animal, rising from the depths of his chest with each hot white spurt entering your womb. Jeno slams into you harder, ass rippling under the collision of his hips. “That’s a good puppy, finally learning your place.”

Jeno smirks, licking his lips clean of drool, grabbing fistfuls of your ass before releasing to spank you again. A fucking mess, slicked down to your knees, ass covered in your juices. He slides out slowly, in a daze as each inch drags out more wet than the last, tugging your ass further apart only to admire the way your cunt swells around him. “Mmm, fuck..”

Jeno wants to whimper when you clench around the head of his cock, stealing a last staggering string of nut before he pops out obscenely loud. The sound even more magnified outdoors, cutting through the crisp night air and rattling your spine with embarrassment.

As much as he loves to see your pussy destroyed, gaped and stretched by the width of his girth, pulsing open in despair for more; Jeno can’t stand to see his seed go to waste, trickling out past your fattened up folds.

“What an ungrateful puppy.” Palms collide with your ass, snapping your back into a bowed arch, breaking with a shout. The tremble let out racking through your body more earth shattering, nearly knocking you off your knees, perfect for the Alpha who uses the opportunity to roll you over, shoving your thighs open with heavy hot palms rubbing up the tender flesh of your inner thighs.

Jeno swoops down, stomach flattened to the ground, latching his mouth over your hole to suck. The sound of slurping loud, disgusting and lewd, swallowing his own cum out of your hole with eyes rolled up facing the back of his head.

“Jeno!”

He rumbles, tongue and nose dragging up and down between your thighs. A fucking mess of slick covering his face, taking over his ability to breathe as you gush out more slick, a huge wad of it dripping down the bridge of his nose. Growling angrily, he slaps your inner thighs meanly, nails clawing down to your knees to scare you.

“A-alpha!” You convulse, writhing under the hard grip he sets on your hips, gluing you down to ravage your cunt with menacing lashes of tongue. Wet and wide, lapping faster than he ever has, chin pouring down with the remnants of wetness he misses, mindlessly devouring between your folds and crevices.

Another loud sob flies from your throat, reaching up to cross your arms on your chest; something to stop you from levitating as another orgasm travels through your body. This one rippling through your thighs and toes until they cramp and helplessly kick in the air.

“Pretty pussy all for me.” Jeno kisses, spitting just to watch your hole open up hungrily for more.

“Slutty cock hungry puppy.. my perfect puppy.” He kisses, quickly moving up to slot his hips between your legs, leaning down to mumble against your parted lips. “Okay?”

It's barely a nod, but it’s enough, letting the Alpha know you need more, you want more. Jeno nods back, nose dripping with a mixture of your arousals gently rubbing against yours, a tender moment before wrapping around his size; fat cock snuggled up to your sore hole. The thick tip nudging its way past the pathetic fight your body puts up, clamping around him in a way that sucks around his length, only inviting him to fuck further in.

He thrusts in harder than before, shocking your nerves, an invisible string attached to your navel lifts your back off the floor, arching up with a shout. Jeno mutters thousands of curses, hissing as he watches inch by inch disappear inside of you. Cock swelling up to full size ready to break your pussy for good. Nodding dumbly, he drags up your torso, tickling your throat before locking around you tightly, hoisted up with a lung clogging grip to hang from his cock.

“So full baby.” Reaching under his shirt, he cups the bulge formed under your belly button, becoming obsessed with how stretched you feel. The tip of his length sculpting a place there with a bed of cum prodding your stomach to expand. “Always knew you could take it.”

“Ughhh, Alpha!” It’s more blabber, hiccups and broken small cries; hardly able to form your words let alone thoughts coherently.

Jeno pulls you to his chest, throwing your weight up and down his thick cock, the pain burning through your middle in a sinfully pleasurable way. It’s sickening how good it feels to know the Alphas high-pitched moans, wanton cries, desperate growls are all for you, that they are all because of you. He fucks as if he’ll never stop, hands scattered all over your flesh leaving scratches and claiming marks behind, caking up skin and bits of blood under trimmed fingernails.

“Never stop fucking you,” Jeno pants, spit slick mouth breathing harshly against your cheek, biting the plump flesh between words. “I’ll never stop fucking you, keep you full of my cum, make sure you’re always filled with pups. Fuck you until your body breaks for me, mine, only mine.”

Rabid hunger pushes him over the edge, throwing you down on the ground to ram into you, nothing to hold him back. Jeno throws your legs over his shoulders, knee pits folding limblessly over the broad muscle; pushing ahead to fold you in half. He grabs your neck again, handprints already blooming around the sensitive skin there. Carelessly fucking into you with abandon, body shoved higher by each thrust, the tip of his size pushing past your cervix; bulged tip breaking through your womb with determination. Barbs form around his length, ripping shrieked screams from your chest as they expand and scratch through your muscle.

Grunting above you like a beast, Jeno’s unrecognizable, eyes blown out by the rut, teeth snapping covered with drool, nose snarled back; ready to attack and pounce. Exposed canines threaten to chew you up, lifting your neck like a toy to shove your foreheads together. Thrusting relentlessly through your heat, his barbed length trapped between your fiery heat is unwilling to stop, prodding harder at your insides the closer he reaches climax. “Fuck you full of my babies, Mine mine mine.”

Jeno’s lost to the unreal grip your pussy has around his barbed length, still attempting to milk him dry despite how much it hurts. The tears streaking your cheeks forming glossy puddles over your two toned eyes a reminder of how much this hurts; how much you still want it, how badly you need it.

“Anything for your Alpha,” he growls shakily, cock throbbing. Hissing as the thick head of his size thrusts in deeper; expanding past the opening of your cervix. Fucking little watery whimpered cries and repeated ‘uh uh uh’ out of your near lifeless body. “Anything?”

Jeno sounds distraught, his Alpha needing you to be responsive. Howling for you to plead, desperate for his good Omega bitch to say what he needs to hear.

Weakly nodding, you sniffle, mouth parting with strings of spit attached. Ruined, only good enough for your Alpha to ever want. “A-any—thing.”

Jeno’s length retracts, pulling out to the tip abruptly. Chest rising and falling similar to a beast after chasing down their prey and succeeding. Blown out gaze dissipating for a second, dropping your legs from his shoulders to properly hold your head up, breathy ragged air fanned across your lips. “Love you so much puppy.”

The Alpha thrusts back in, slamming into your cervix all at once with one full swope. Each ridge of his barbed cock painfully digging in past your somehow still tight cunt. “Fuck puppy! Love you so much.” Jeno cries out, ripping your hair back to bite down on your scent gland. Cock pulsing stronger than an accelerated heart beat. The fat head of his rod breaking your womb, growling as teeth break your skin, mating your Alpha and Omega as he unloads; cock lodging in place expanding at the base. The knot rips an excruciating pleasured orgasm out of you as your muscles seize up and struggle to stretch with the swell tugging your entrance to its limits.

Jeno hasn’t stopped cumming, drowning your womb in hot white strands of sticky release. The new sensation gushing your slick against his cock, adding sensitivity from the pressure of your orgasm, dribbling out in small spaces past his knot leaving his balls soaked with arousal.

Only then does Jeno’s Alpha finally exhale, lapping up the wound inflicted on your throat, tonguing the indents of teeth marks as sorrowful apologetic puppy whimpers pass between exhilarated breaths. The wanton neediness in each lick only a sign that he’s nowhere near done, continuing to spill inside of you until your stomach juts out painfully.

Jeno mumbles a ‘thank you’ ever so quietly, using the minute of clear head space to check in on you and lick your face clean.

“Thank you puppy.” He whispers again, losing sight of his satisfied gaze behind the backs of your eyelids, drifting off as he sets you into a new position onto your side and glides back in. “Thank you.”

Morning comes fast despite your exhaustion, cuddled up to your Alpha atop of the blanket your owner had set out for him. Jeno’s everything consumes you, covered in layers of dry cum, wrapped in the Alphas scent, bite marks littered over your chest, neck, and shoulders.

“Mmmph..” Jeno whimpers in his sleep, shifting against your back and rolling his face to hide in the crook of your neck, nose pressed to your scent gland.

“Alpha.. mhmm hungry.”

Right on time, wooden sticks snap followed by the clouded scent of human drifting through, rising the Alphas head to scan the area and tighten his hold around you.

“What. The. Fuck!” Renjun charges closer the moment he’s near enough to spot the glass box fully open and missing his pup. A scream high enough for only dogs to hear ripping free as he comes to an abrupt stop and finds the two of you laid together.

Jeno smiles, licking your cheek and kissing you to wake up. “Foods here.”

[roseykat]

Can you make a reaction where the reader is needy but the skz members are busy? Thank you sm and also love your work <3

I certainly can! And thank you much love, that means a lot! 🩷

TAGS: the use of pet names such as ‘baby’, ‘bunny’, ‘doll’, ‘princess’, smut, dirty talk, mentions of edging, vibrators, some explicit language, kissing,

BANG CHAN

He spends the majority of his time in the studio mixing, recording, or creating beats. When he works late by himself, you tend to go in and join him just to keep him company. Even if it just means lying on the couch behind him and scrolling through your phone while he does what he needs. It’s just nice for the both of you to have each other nearby even if you’re not talking.

There are days however, sometimes weeks where Chan is so busy that you almost have to make an appointment just to see him. Despite being so close to him, the distance is a lot. It makes you realise how long you’ve gone without touching him or him touching you. So on one of those nights, you go up behind him in the studio as he’s sitting down, wrapping your arms around his front and resting your chin on his shoulder.

“I miss you Channie,” you say to him.

He melts when you use that voice on him, relaxing into your touch a bit more, “I know baby…”

“Come take a break,” you coax him, rubbing slowly along his chest.

“I can’t love, I’m so close to finishing this track.”

Your eyes close, feeling up all his muscles, as the warmth of his body, even his scent, turns you on, “but I need you so bad. Want you to feel how much I need you.”

“Twenty more minutes and then we can go home and do whatever you like,” Chan promises, and he always follows through with his promises.

“Twenty minutes is like two days though,” you over exaggerate.

“I swear I won’t take too long,” he emphasises to you. “Plus, how could I ever say ‘no’ to you?”

MINHO

To Minho, being busy is just an excuse because he always has time for you. Whether he’s recording, teaching or learning choreography, or is just working with a tight schedule, he’ll try to acknowledge your needs regardless of how far apart you are. But when you need his body and start missing his touch, he will drag it out for as long as he can until you start begging for it instead.

“What do you mean working late?” You whine over the phone to him after receiving a text saying that he’s not going to be home for a while.

“It's just for a couple of hours, I’ll be home before you know it,” he says just to rile you up.

“No but, I need you - you have no idea how badly Minho. I can’t do anything without you.”

“Aw c’mon doll, I’m sure there’s something you can do in the meantime? What happened to all those toys I bought you?”

Your eyes dart to those said toys on the bed. All of which you had run through and even though they made you all cum, it didn’t even scratch the surface. None of them compare to what Minho can do. No vibrator can replicate the way that his tongue flicks or his mouth sucks. No dildo can reach spots that Minho can.

“Don’t tell me you went through them all?”

“So what if I did?!” You exclaim to him, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise to your cheeks while you hear him laugh on the other end of the phone.

“You’re just going to have to wait,” he says. “I can’t leave these guys high and dry because they came all this way.”

“You’re leaving me high and dry,” you huff.

“I know for a fact that you’re anything but dry right now. I’ll see you when I see you.”

CHANGBIN

Changbin takes his health seriously. Eating clean but also what his body feels like, working out every day, resting, stretching, going to the physio or chiropractor to align his body. Over the time you’ve spent together, you’ve gotten to watch him physically change too, and it’s nothing short of hot.

He’s broader, more defined, muscles clear cut for you to view whenever you can. His skin is so smooth and hard under your touch whenever you can get your hands on him…

You can’t help but gawk at your boyfriend, to think that he’s all yours. He finds it mildly adorable that he has that sort of effect on you. Especially when you stare at him while he gets ready, watching him slip into a black long sleeve muscle tee that hugs his taut body so fucking well. His trained eyes catches you obviously ogling at him in the mirror though.

“Can you just go later?”

“What was that?” Changbin asks, missing what you said the first time.

“C-Can you just…go later,” you repeat. “To the gym I mean.”

He turns around and looks at you funny, “why’s that baby?”

“It’s just…I really want you to…stay here, just for a little bit.”

“I caught onto that, but you’re not telling me why-“

“Because I just want you,” interrupting him as you rip the duvet cover off your lap. “Need you.”

Changbin’s lips purse into a smile, “I can’t bunny. I’m seeing my PT this morning. I can’t leave him hanging.”

“You can always see him after,” you suggest. “Just be a tiny bit late.”

He rolls his eyes, trying not to laugh as he walks over to you to kiss the top of your head, “sorry princess.”

HYUNJIN

Hyunjin’s clear form of escapism as we know it is art or reading maybe. It’s a way for him to take himself out of this world and plant himself in another. In doing so, he becomes so entranced with what he’s reading or painting. If it’s the latter, Hyunjin tends to suffer from tunnel vision. Meaning he cannot abandon something he’s creating midway through the process. He needs to see it all through to the end.

Usually when you come home from work, he’s already sitting at the dinner table with his sketchbook out, some pencils, a glass of murky water beside him from dipping his paintbrush in, and looks so focused that it’s nearly impossible to get a ‘hi’ out of him.

Sometimes you come home all flustered and frustrated and annoyed because you couldn’t stop thinking about him all day. Those are the days where you have to actually make yourself present to him if he’s caught up in his hobby - which you want to promote since you know he loves it. But he also has an obligation as your boyfriend to acknowledge your needs, which he has an interesting way of doing.

“Hi baby,” Hyunjin says to you.

“Hey, still in the same spot that I left you in this morning,” you say to him.

“I’ve been trying to finish of this piece but it’s taking me a while because it has a lot of detail to it,”

“It looks stunning,” you say, watching his slender fingers pick up the brush again. “How busy are you right now?”

Hyunjin looks up from his paper, innocent boba eyes staring back at you, “why?”

“Long day and I just…really, really, really fucking need you right now,” you say to him simply.

Hyunjin took the extremely obvious hint, “you do? How badly do you need me baby?”

“Like ‘I want to skip foreplay because I’m already wet so you can fuck me now’ badly,” you say to him.

His insides stir excitedly, but he wants to finish off his piece. So with his dilemma, he ends up compromising. Hyunjin asks you for fifteen minutes for him to get as much of the piece completed as he can in order for him to fuck you after.

JISUNG

Honestly, if you’re in separate countries, and you text this man saying that you’re horny and you need him, he’s on the next flight straight back to you. Which sounds cheesy or cliche, but this man doesn’t give a fuck what he’s doing. There is the very rare occasion where he’s a bit preoccupied with something, like maybe he’s promised to go hang out with a friend which he doesn’t want to just ditch them.

Thankfully, neither of you have been in that situation until Jisung would go on tour with the other members. During one portion of it, you were able to follow along with them and none of it was easy when all you wanted to do was have him pin you down to the stage and fuck you in front of his fans.

The way that he can act on that stage too is something else. How he moves, raps, dances, interacts with people. It has you sitting tight backstage that by the time the show is over, you want to pounce on him. Despite the fact that he’s tired and worked to the ground, he’ll let you have him. Plus, it’s a decent way for him to drain all of that adrenaline.

“What’d you think?” Jisung asks, towelling away some of his sweat. God he looked so hot.

“G-Good yeah, you guys were awesome as always,” you mean it genuinely but he could tell that there was something preoccupying you.

“Everything okay babe?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “You just…you look really good.”

By the look in your eye, Jisung knew what that meant. A grin spreads across his face as he gently grabs the sides of your cheeks and pulls you in to kiss him. You’re unsure if anyone can see you both, but it’s not like he cares. With that in mind, you relish what you can like nobody is watching.

“Need you,” you whisper against his lips.

“Jisung, we’re having interviews now - oh yuck, get a fucking room would you?” Seungmin grimaces having just walked in on something that’s now scarred into his memory. He said what he needed to and immediately retraced his steps.

You look back up at Jisung with horror in your eyes. Horror because he’s about to leave you when your body wants him most.

“But-“

“No buts,” Jisung cuts you off. “I’ll see you in a bit okay? After that, I’ll give you the entire night back at the hotel.”

FELIX

In Felix’s downtime, gaming is his go-to. Most of the time it’s therapeutic, like when he plays Animal Crossing while listening to ASMR, Minecraft, or even building houses in Sims. The other half of the time it's him angrily slamming his closed fist onto his desk when he keeps failing to beat Malenia in Elden Ring or swearing at his screen because he can't 36 star the Spiral Abyss in Genshin Impact.

Watching him get angry while he's gaming is hot. It makes you wish that he was just as aggressive with you in bed. Or wishing that he would spank you for him to take his frustrations out if he loses.

“Lixie, can you come here for a minute?” You ask from his bed.

“Why? What’s the matter baby?” He replies.

“No nothing, just want to cuddle.”

“Hold on, just about - fucking trash! What even is this? I spend how many months building a character and not one single good roll?” Felix yells at his screen again, then remembers why he was talking in the first place, clearing his throat. “I just need half an hour and I’ll be done with this, I swear.”

“Can’t you put it on pause and come help me?” You whine.

“Help you with wh-“ Felix catches on, listening to you as he abandons his computer for a moment and turns around in his desk chair. “Oh?”

Your legs are already trying to twist themselves together to find relief between them, “please?”

Felix does want to finish his game, but he wants to tease you more, both of those things seem to go hand in hand, “surely you can wait half an hour for me, no?”

“No, I can’t,” you shake your head fervently.

“Yes, you can,” he says with confidence, because he truly knows you can wait.

So what he decides to do is agree to ‘help’ you under the condition that he gets to tie you up, strap a vibrator to your thigh for it to reach your clit, and edge you for the half an hour he needs. Forcing you to abstain from what you really need which is his cock.

SEUNGMIN

Seungmin has a very strict working policy, which you understand. He needs to focus and train when necessary or prepare for something coming up in the future. Plus, with the amount of admirable dedication that he puts into his field, you’d hate to see it all go to waste.

You do talk about these things with him because he knows fully how demanding his occupation can be. There will be times when he won’t see you for a couple of weeks - up to months even. So he can appreciate how lonely it must get for you while he’s surrounded by many.

That being said, he trusts you to handle your own when it comes to getting horny and he's not there. But it's a completely different story when he's right beside you yet distant and preoccupied at the same time. He looks so good when he works.

Seeing the way his eyebrows contract whenever he's thinking, pushing his hair out of his face when he's frustrated from trying to come up with more ideas, or when he rolls his sleeves up when his work starts to intensify. Before he knows it, you're climbing in between his legs on the bed, sitting sideways as he tries to sort out pages of lyrics.

"What are you up to?" Seungmin asks you with notes of suspicion.

"Am I not allowed to show some physical appreciation for my boyfriend?" You respond.

"At the moment, no," he says regretfully. "I'm helping Jisung finish off this song and I said I would get it to him soon."

You pout, “can’t you text it to him or something?”

Seungmin chortles, “he likes having it on a hard copy instead. Which reminds me, I’ll need to print more off too when we distribute the lines.”

“Tell him to wait,” you sling your arms around his neck and nuzzle into his body.

“What’s got you so needy?” Seungmin questions.

“Nothing,” you shake your head. “Just want to be by you is all.”

JEONGIN

For the past couple of weeks, Jeongin had been really honing in on his vocal skills. He spent a lot of time going to lessons, practicing with his other members, and by himself too. So far, it’s been frustrating trying to hit notes that are demanding of him.

As a result of his consistent absence, you’ve grown used to being alone for a fair amount of time. In that solitude, the longing for him expands. Sometimes you forget what it feels like to be near him. To hug him, hold his hand, even spend time just being beside each other can make a huge difference. But with the hours he works, at the moment it’s impossible.

He’s fully aware of that for you though and feels awful for being the number one contributor to it. But that’s why you don’t feel guilty when you send him dirty texts out of the blue or the odd explicit photo.

Jeongin will smirk down at his phone in the practice room when the members are on a small break, thankful that he has a privacy screen over his phone they'd be able to see. But you need him, you’re beyond the point of caring who sees that you crave his attention.

From Jeongin: Risky business sending that babe

To Jeongin: C'mon, you know how much I miss you

From Jeongin: That's an odd way of showing me how much you miss me

To Jeongin: Sick, now I know to stop sending them altogether then.

From Jeongin: Wait I was kidding

To Jeongin: Then don't tease me when I need you.

From Jeongin: Oh so you need me? Is that what it is?

To Jeongin: You KNOW that's exactly what it is.

From Jeongin: Okay my bad. I know I've been busy, but we're finishing up soon so maybe you can show me how much you need me when I come back home.

To Jeongin: Or you can just come home now

From Jeongin: Maybe if you send me another pic, I will ;)

[freedomfireflies]

Ours*

Summary: The second part to Mine*

Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has arranged a phone-call with one of his most notorious enemies.

Lucky for you, you’ve got a front row seat to the show.

His cock.

Word Count: 4.1k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content, so please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

“How long?”

“Five minutes. At least.”

“And everybody knows the plan?”

Asher nods. “They don’t move until they have my signal.”

“Good,” Harry murmurs, glancing down at his desk, narrowed eyes finding the open file. “Sugar, are you doing okay?”

Without even looking over at you, Harry can sense the way you’ve begun to recoil into yourself. And your cheeks warm at the dominant but caring edge to his voice as you clear your throat and scoot to the edge of the couch.

“Yes,” you call. “Just…nervous for you.”

Asher smirks to himself as Harry looks up, wearing a similarly amused expression. 

“Nervous for us, huh?” Harry muses, leaning back in his seat as he crosses his arms. “What, you think we can’t handle it?”

“No. No, of course not, I just…I want you to get him,” you clarify, glancing down at your lap to avoid their entertained stares. 

“We will,” Asher tells you, rather resolutely. “Trust me, sweetheart. He’s not gonna be our problem much longer.”

Harry nods once in agreement. “Nothing to be nervous about. He’s nothing. A fucking cockroach with his head up as his own ass. We aren’t gonna let him touch you.”

“I’m not worried about me, Har,” you sigh as you stand from the sofa. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. To any of you.”

He eyes you for a moment, seemingly lost in thought before motioning you closer.

Eagerly, you make your way over as Asher side steps out of the way to make room, and once you’re close enough, Harry quickly guides you toward his desk and sits you down on top.

“You don’t have to worry about me, mama,” he murmurs as he stands and makes a home between your thighs. “M’not ever gonna leave you. That’s why I’m staying here. So I can make sure you’re safe.”

You smile as he takes hold of your face between his large palms. “I always worry about you, Har. Whether you’re in here with me or out there with them. I just…I want you to be okay.”

“I am okay,” he says calmly, dipping down to press his lips to your top one. “Right here. With you.”

Asher clears his throat.

Harry’s eyes roll. “And Asher, too.”

Grinning, you glance over your shoulder at Harry’s right-hand man, who nods his approval.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he agrees. “Sean’s not gonna lay a fucking finger on you. Either of you. I promise.”

You smile your gratefulness before glancing back at your boyfriend, whose lips are pursed.

And you know why. While he understands the sentiment, he hates promises. 

This has been an ongoing argument throughout your entire relationship. 

He thinks promises are bullshit—nothing but wishful thinking and empty declarations. Nobody can guarantee anything. Especially in this line of work. You can’t possibly swear to make sure something happens when the entire world is working against you. 

But you think promises are the only real thing to hold onto you. A trust and a deal created based on faith and understanding. No, you will never be a hundred percent certain. But you’ll try. And sometimes…giving someone your word can make all the difference.

Asher knows Harry’s aversions to the phrase, having been reprimanded for it before. But you know he’s chosen to say it now because not only does he mean it…he knows you need to hear it.

So, Harry allows Asher to make you this guarantee. Because whether or not he believes in the idea…he chooses to believe in Asher. And in his ability to keep you safe.

“So…what do you need me to do?” you ask, fingers curling around Harry’s wrists to make sure he keeps holding onto you. 

“Stay right here,” he declares. “And give me something pretty to look at.”

Your face warms at the compliment, although you know he’s not kidding. “Ha, ha.”

He merely grins as he leans in for another kiss. This one much longer and much…heavier.

Whether or not he admits it…he’s nervous. He wants to know you’re safe more than he wants air in his lungs. Wants to be able to tell you that you’re safe and mean it. 

Deep down, he wants to promise you that nobody will ever get to you.

Finding Sean is simply the first step in that direction.

And if they don’t—

The phone rings.

You jolt in place from the sudden and shrill sound while Harry leans back and meets Asher’s eye.

Asher nods, finger coming up to tap his earpiece as he mutters, “Standby.”

Your heart begins to hammer inside your chest as you look between them and get ready to slip off Harry’s desk so you can return to the sofa.

But before you can, his large arm is outstretching across your body, blocking your path while his other hand moves to retrieve the phone.

Your mouth opens, ready to ask what he’s doing, but are unable to slip the question in before he brings the headset to his ear.

In a clipped voice, he sneers, “What?”

You watch his expression as he listens to the response, secretly wishing you could hear but knowing it’s probably better you can’t.

“Figured you’d find your way back to me eventually,” Harry replies, rather condescendingly. “But I’ll admit…I am a little disappointed I won’t get to put you on your fucking knees and make you beg.” 

Another beat as Harry awaits Sean’s response.

And whatever it is, it makes his brows weave a bit closer together as his teeth start to grit. The muscles in his already strong, tan arms begin to flex beneath his black t-shirt as he grabs onto your thigh and squeezes.

And at this point in your relationship, a firm touch like this doesn’t startle you, so you merely place your hand over his and do your best to offer some comfort.

He doesn’t show any signs of acknowledgment, but you know he appreciates it as he looks over at Asher.

Asher in turn takes a moment to listen to the response from his team before nodding his chin toward Harry, finger rolling through the air as an instruction to keep the conversation going.

“I’d watch your fucking tone,” Harry seethes, leaning forward as his mouth presses into the receiver. “There is no goddamn corner of the Earth that I couldn’t find you. And when you try to weasel your way out of our fucking deal…try to undercut me, and take what isn’t yours…the price on your fucking head goes up.”

You catch Asher mouth something to Harry as a silent conversation is had through tense glances.

With that, Harry presses a button on the base, slams the phone back into the switchhook, and instantly, the speakers come alive with the sounds of shouting.

Curious, your head tilts as you look over at your boyfriend, quietly questioning his intentions.

He simply throws you a smirk and takes hold of your hips right as the ringing of a gunshot echoes through.

And then, it happens again. And again. And again.

You feel the blood drain from your cheeks as you begin to piece together the truth. 

You’re listening to Harry’s team taking Sean hostage.

There’s yelling, and cursing, and more gunshots, and pleas for mercy. You imagine they’re taking out Sean’s own men first before moving for him, and the thought makes your head spin.

However, Harry smiles through it all, cupping your cheek in his palm before leaning in to kiss you. 

You go still in his touch, unsure how to devote your attention to him when so much death and destruction is happening a few feet away.

But Harry doesn’t mind. He kisses you anyway. Takes control of you the way he’s so keen to do. He pries your lips apart and slips his tongue against yours. He moves his touch to the back of your neck to go a bit deeper and fully own you. And he grins sadistically through every second of it.

There’s some faint mumbling from the other side of the phone that you don’t hear or understand. But you do vaguely see Asher press his finger back into his earpiece as he nods at whatever is being said before turning to his boss.

“Ready,” he says as Harry hums and brushes his nose against yours.

“You still with me Sean?” Harry calls, and you swallow as you await Sean’s response.

It takes a moment for it to come, the rustling of violence slowing to a stop as a shuddering breath is heard.

“Fuck you.” The response is seethed through the speaker as Harry once again smiles to himself and rolls his head to the left so he can kiss the other side of your mouth.

“Easy,” he warns the convicted felon. “There are ladies present.”

Asher’s expression is smug and while you feel rather uncomfortable bearing witness to this side of Harry’s job, you can’t help but feel a little…thrilled.

You’ve always loved seeing him like this, although it is rare. Since he’s determined to keep you hidden away from his demons. 

But now, getting to see this kind of rage, this kind of power…you’re rather smitten.

A long stretch of silence follows Harry’s response, and he uses this time to begin trailing his free hand along your outer thigh.

His fingers dance across the fabric of your skirt before innocently slipping beneath to help guide your leg a bit further over, creating more space. 

You quickly grasp onto the edge of his desk to brace yourself as you stare at him, eyebrows flying up your forehead.

However, he simply sweeps his hand from your neck to your jaw, thumb brushing down your bottom lip.

“Do you know why…I’ve devoted so much time…so much money…to making sure that the men I do business with…are capable of doing it right?” Harry asks of Sean, his eyes on your mouth, touch once again traveling up your inner thigh as his intentions become clear. “Do you know why…it’s so easy for me…to find you? Put you on your fucking knees with a barrel to your head?”

There’s no answer from Sean. You didn’t imagine there would be. Harry merely wants an audience as he does what he does best.

Shows off.

“Because you…are fucking weak,” Harry continues in a near growl as he moves his lips to your neck and his fingers to your already damp panties. “Sloppy. Pathetic. Unable to follow a simple command.”

You swallow a whine as he slips beneath the band and finds your clit. He grazes it for only a moment before moving lower to find the pooling arousal being kept from him. 

“You underestimated me,” he murmurs, kissing just below your ear. “Underestimated what I’d do…to keep her safe.”

There’s another loud thud from the phone as Harry grins and eases a finger inside your aching hole.

“So…here’s what’s gonna happen,” he decides, waiting until you’ve actually begun to enjoy the feeling of his hand before taking it away from you altogether…and stepping back.

You just about crumble, whimpering to yourself as your nails scratch down the wooden table, and you watch him with a heavy lust.

But Harry doesn’t notice, instead nodding at his partner. “Hold her open,” he calls softly to the right-hand man, who obediently moves for you.

A tad curious, and endlessly intrigued, you look between them as Harry begins to roll up the sleeves of his nice dress shirt, stopping near the elbows, while Asher makes a home behind you.

His hands find your hips and he yanks you across the desk until your back meets his chest. Then, he leans forward so he can take hold of your legs and spread them as far as they’ll go, your muscles burning from such a stretch.

And Harry watches with a hunger you don’t think you’ve ever seen. You wonder if this has always been a secret kink of his, and truthfully…you wouldn’t be surprised.

He knows that Asher is probably scared shitless right now, terrified that if he makes one wrong move…it’s his head, next.

You imagine that’s what has Harry so awestruck. Knowing that the two most important people in his life have submitted to him. That they’ll do anything he asks. That in this instance…he has the power. The control. You’ll do whatever he tells you.

It’s probably why you’re so enamored, too. Because you know you’re safe. Every other day of your life, your safety can be called into question but now…with both of these men, you have never been more protected.

You’ll happily give them your pleasure, your body, your orgasms. Any fucking day of the week.

“I…am gonna fuck my girl,” Harry continues, once more speaking to Sean as he eyes your cunt and begins to kneel in front of you. “And lucky for you…I’m gonna let you listen.”

Your heart is in your throat with this admission, skin warming as he reaches for your underwear and easily snaps it from your hips. 

“And the second she comes…I’m gonna fucking kill you,” he finishes resolutely before surging forward and licking his tongue up your pussy.

You gasp so hard, you jolt against Asher’s chest, forcing his hands to tighten around your thighs as Harry begins. 

Your eyes just about roll back as soft, practiced licks are had across your cunt, teeth nipping at you with fervor. It’s…ecstasy. 

Sure, he’s eaten you out before. And he’s always been quite exceptional at it, too.

But never like this. Never under these conditions. Not with Asher in the room. Touching you. Holding you open. Holding you down. Keeping you still for his boss—your boyfriend—as a dangerous criminal is forced to listen over the phone.

“Oh, come on, sugar,” you hear Harry tut from between your thighs, and you look down as he glances up at you through his long lashes. “You know better than to be quiet, don’t you?”

He presses his tongue flat against you before you can respond, almost as if to ensure he’ll get the reaction he’s so desperately looking for.

And it works. You whimper as you nod, allowing the sounds to flow from you freely as you slouch in Asher’s hold.

“There you go,” Asher seems to chuckle in your ear. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

And you know he does. He’s now the only thing holding you up, keeping you from melting through the desk and onto the floor. 

Harry is quick with his work. Usually, he likes to drag this particular activity out. Work you up, leaving you hanging and desperate.

But today, he wants your orgasm. Wants that permission to kill the man he’s been hunting for weeks.

So, as the sounds of muffled grunts and pained groans continue to slip from the speaker, Harry adds two fingers into play. 

The moan you make is so loud, you can hear the echo of it through the phone. You writhe between the two men, head falling back against Asher’s shoulder as Harry’s grip in your knee tightens.

Harry knows you’re sensitive. Knows he hasn’t been able to give you the kind of care and attention you deserve. In fact, he’s had you do it yourself more times this week than he has your entire relationship.

And your own hand is fine, but it’s not him. It’s not his technique or his tongue or just…him. 

He’s the only one you want. He could be shit at it, and you think you’d still come just because he was the one doing it.

The closer you get, the more your legs shake. The more adamant Harry’s curling becomes. Until he’s stroking that one spot with so much determination that you begin to slip. 

And when he feels you slipping…he stops.

Of course, he stops.

After all, he promised Sean a good fucking.

And that’s exactly what he plans to deliver.

Harry straightens back up as you dejectedly slump into Asher, your eyelids growing heavy with longing.

He rips his belt off, the clanging of the metal sending goosebumps along your arms before he undoes the zipper. 

“Of all the fucking shit…you’ve taken from me,” Harry once again calls to Sean, a razor-like sharpness to his tone, “keeping me from my girl…has got to be your worst mistake yet.”

He takes out his cock, and the sight has you drooling. Saliva instantly filling your mouth as you eagerly watch him stroke it a few times before returning to you.

His other hand finds your cunt, fingers dragging up and down and through everything that’s collected. And the brief contact makes your hips buck up as Asher tsks in your ear and forces you back down.

Then, Harry’s touch is retreating and returning to his swollen tip as he drags your arousal down his shaft, just to watch it glisten with you.

You mewl, eyes flicking up to his as you silently plead with him to fill you. To wreck you, to ruin you, to claim you in front of everybody.

He grins.

Exactly one second manages to fit between the time that he places his hands beside Asher’s to spread you a bit further and when he’s burying himself inside your aching pussy. 

He’s not patient. Not gentle. Not kind. He knows you can fit him, knows you’ll take him, so he lets you. Lets you take him, lets himself stretch you, lets himself own you.

You groan his name as your arms fling around his neck, nails scratching down his scalp as he begins his tortuous pace. 

“Fucking missed you, mama,” Harry seethes in your ear, turning to press a lazy kiss to your cheek. “Missed this sweet, little pussy. S’always so good to me, isn’t it? Squeezes me just the way I like—”

“Please,” you whisper, rather dejectedly as the pleasure begins to consume you. Overtaking the part of your brain responsible for rational, coherent thoughts.

“So fucking tight, sugar,” Harry breathes, fingers curling around your thigh as if to steady himself. “Fucking perfect. Bet they wish they could feel you. Bet they wish they could feel how fucking wet you get for me. How fucking warm—”

He snaps forward, making you whine before he’s taking hold of your waist to drag you closer to him.

“Bet Asher would fucking love…to feel you,” Harry continues, almost condescendingly as he sneaks a sideways glance at his friend. “Bet you’d make his fucking day, mama. Bet he’s never had someone as tight as you. As fucking perfect as you and your pretty cunt. Bet he wanks off to the thought of you when I’m not around.”

You can’t see Asher’s face but from the way his touch has begun to grow heavy, you have a feeling you know exactly what he’s thinking. 

Harry’s devilish smirk returns as he presses his fingers into your clit. “Do you? Do you think about fucking my girlfriend? Think about taking her any way you want? Making her moan for you the way she moans for me?”

To accompany his comment, he shifts his thrusts up, forcing you to make that very noise as Asher exhales a shaky breath behind you.

“Know you do,” Harry tells him. “Just can’t fucking help yourself, can you?”

There’s a pause in the conversation, which you assume is meant to encourage Asher’s reply, and after about a minute…it comes.

“No,” he admits, voice thick as he readjusts his grip on your thighs. “No, I can’t.”

Harry is pleased with this, smiling to himself as he slips his hand under your shirt to find your tit and knead it in his palm. “You like watching me fuck her? Like holding her down for me while I ruin her? Like to pretend she isn't mine? But yours? Ours?”

You’d almost feel bad for Asher if you couldn’t feel how much he was enjoying this little show against your ass.

“Answer me,” Harry hisses when he’s met with no response.

“Yes,” Asher grits between clenched teeth, nails pressing crescent-shaped indents into your skin. 

Harry’s smug expression only grows as he drives his hips forward until you're keening. Then, his attention returns to you.

“Gonna come for me, mama?” he murmurs, dipping down to nose under your jaw until your head rolls back against Asher’s shoulder. “Yeah? Gonna let Sean hear your pretty little cries before I kill him? You gonna be the last thing he ever fucking hears?”

And really, you have no choice. Even if you wanted to be discreet, the way he’s got you held, the way his cock is claiming you from the inside out, the way his fingers are attacking your clit is making it impossible.

Suddenly, you feel a hand on your throat as Harry squeezes and forces you upright. “No, you look at me,” he growls. “Look at me while I fuck you, do you understand?”

You attempt to nod but his grip keeps you from doing so. Instead, you simply clench around him and make another indiscernible noise.

And suddenly, everything whittles down to right now. To this moment as you watch him disappear into you over and over again. The way your body stretches to accommodate him. The way he groans at the sight. The way little droplets of sweat have begun to bead around his hairline.

He slows his thrusts some. So he can really make sure you feel him. So he can push past your muscles and drag himself through. So he can hit the spot you need until you go dizzy. Until you’re blubbering, “Please, please, please, Daddy,” repeatedly with each practiced drive of Harry’s hips.

The name seems to snap his last band of restraint as he growls and leaves bruises behind that will carry you through tomorrow.

And even Asher attempts to ease your neediness. His thumbs brushing back and forth on your thighs as he whispers, “Easy, sweetheart. It’s okay. Just breathe, yeah? Breathe.”

You’re thankful for the reminder. You don’t think you would have remembered otherwise. In fact, you’d almost forgotten how. You don’t remember anything right now except this feeling of tightness in your abdomen. Of euphoria building within your cunt as Harry repeatedly strikes you with white-hot licks of bliss.

“Getting close, aren’t you, sugar?” Harry mumbles, kisses moving down your neck as he flicks your clit beneath his thumb. Rubbing it in circles as you attempt to squeeze your legs closed. “Oh, I know. I know, honey. Want you to wait for me, all right? Want you to wait until I’ve filled you and then I want you to come with me, okay?”

You whimper again as his hand returns to your waist, waiting eagerly for him to finally find his end.

And you attempt to help him along, hands tangling in his hair, pussy fluttering around his cock, and soft, little whines urging him closer. 

The veins in his arms are pushing against his skin as he grips onto you. As he fights the urge to just throw you down onto the floor and split you in fucking half. 

You sort of wish he would.

But that thought is dangerous. Much too dangerous and you squirm a bit harder as you wrestle with the impending orgasm. Commanding yourself not to come until he has.

And feeling your struggle has Harry’s eyes rolling back as his rhythm begins to falter and he seethes, “That’s my fucking girl,” before releasing his load.

You bask in the feel of his warm seed filling you to the brim, vaguely aware of anything else until you hear Asher whisper, “Now, sweetheart. Go ahead.”

So…you do.

The office comes alive with near-pornographic moans and whispers of names. And in the middle of it all…gunshots.

Harry’s touch continues its assault on your clit as he rides you through your first and straight into your second. Wanting you to come to the sound of Sean and his men being eliminated one by one.

You choke on a pant as he attacks your sensitive, swollen cunt. As he forces you to find your second orgasm of the afternoon. As Asher continues to keep you spread, the warmth of his body, and the smell of his cologne overwhelming each of your senses.

It’s too much, too good. You feel powerless under the weight of this one moment. Of Harry, and Asher, and their promise to put you first. Keep you safe. Make it worth it.

The second one hits you so hard, it feels like a slap across the face, and Asher releases his hold on you so you can collapse into Harry’s chest and bury your face in his neck.

And Harry is more than happy to have you in his arms once again, caging you to his body as he murmurs his praises and gently slows his pace.

He kisses the top of your head, runs his fingers down your spine, and tells you how proud he is.

And as he does, Asher reaches for the phone, lifts it up, and slams it down to end the call. 

"Did so good for us, didn't you?" Harry says as you sigh with contentment and melt into his touch. "Didn't she?"

Asher hums. "So fucking good, sweetheart."

You revel in their voices. In their assurances. In the way they still sound like they're far from through with you.

And in the way you feel so safe.

Protected.

Now…it’s just the three of you.

And truthfully…

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Next Part:

~ Yours* (Pt. 3)

Previous Part:

~ Mine* (Pt. 1)

- Full Mine Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

[azsazz]

Learn Your Lesson

Azriel x Cassian x Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Request: Hear me out on this one…You’re mates with the bat boys and playfully begin comparing their bedroom skills/wingspans. Obviously Cassian can’t let it go and now the others need to defend their honor, so they decide to have a competition on who can make you cum the most/the hardest/the fastest. Who do you think won overall…? And thoughts about how it went (kinda inspired off that fuck marry kill Drabble writings by chlo created *chefs kiss*)

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 1,940

Notes: SO @writingsbychlo and I just wrote this up for you all because we too love the delicacy that is poly!batboys. ENJOY!

_________________________________________

“It hurts,” you whimper. Cassian’s head pops up from between your legs. His mouth is glistening with your slick and his pupils swallow the vibrant color of his eyes but he looks no less starved then he did an hour ago.

“We can’t have that, now can we, darling?” Rhys caresses your face softly, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb. Warmth floods your body as he washes away the pain, leaving only pleasure in his wake. It’s enough that you keen, back arching to meet the hard ridges of his body where he lounges lazily behind you. “But you have to learn your lesson.”

“I-I think I learned my lesson three orgasms ago,” your huff melts into another whine as Cassian’s tongue flicks against your clit.

“And yet,” Cassian mumbles, pulling back just far enough to leave a bite to the inside of your thigh, one sharp enough to have you jolting, legs clamping around his head again. “You’re still being mouthy.”

“I’m not—”

Your words are cut off, dying on a cry of his name as tears well at the edges of your eyes once again, white hot pleasure that brinks on too much as his tongue laps at you again. Before he can repeat the motion, though, the door swings open, and the two males go still on the bed as your third leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his muscular chest. 

His hazel eyes are dark with shadows as he drinks in the sight of you, Rhys, and Cassian naked on the High Lord’s large bed. He takes in the drying mess that’s still on the sheets and the wet spot where Cassian’s been making you cum on his tongue for the past hour. 

The corner of his mouth lifts in a feral yet delicious tease. “Having all the fun without me? That’s just cruel, I’ve been working all day, and this is what I come home to?”

“Az…” A sigh of relief slips free, his smirk softening a little as he looks over to you. He pushes off of the doorframe, his thick-soled boots scraping across the floorboards, scuffing on the wood and bouncing around the near silent room. As he moves closer, that smile becomes a frown, tracking the tear marks on your cheeks. “They’re—”

In an attempt to silence your complaints, Cassian nips at your swollen, oversensitive clit, and your back arches as a broken whine leaves your lips. Sweet relief follows as Cassian’s head is pulled back, Azriel’s fingers fisting his locks. Cassian hisses in reply.

Azriel only tuts, yanking Cassian’s head further back until the male who’s been kneeling on the floor between your legs now stares up at his friend. His chin is still dripping, glistening with your arousal, and Azriel frees his other hand to wipe along his jaw. “So mean to our girl, Cass. She’s shaking, and crying. What have you done to her?”

Rhys brushes the hair from your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to the bruise bitten skin in apology. Your eyes narrow as you shoot him a look. You know exactly what the cheeky High Lord is up to now that Azriel’s joined the group.

“Teaching her a lesson.” He manages to mumble out, and you prop yourself up on shaky arms, just enough to catch as Azriel slips that slick-coated finger between Cassian’s lips. The warlord’s lips seal around it immediately, obediently, sucking your cum clean from his skin before Azriel pulls it back.

“I thought it was my job to teach the lessons around here? What did she do?”

When Cassian hesitates, Azriel gives a sharp tug on the locks still clutched in his fist, a soft moan leaving Cassian’s lips. “She was taunting us. Talking about wingspans and—”

“I was joking! It’s you who got all righteous and had to defend his sexual prowess!”

Azriel’s head snaps up from the male at his feet to you, head tilting a little in concern. “Shh, sweetheart, I’ll get to you in a minute. Let Cassian explain himself. Go on, Cassian.”

“That’s… it.”

“That’s it?” Azriel repeats, brows raising as he looks away. You can't tear your eyes from the scene before you. The tension is thick in the room, your arms barely able to hold you up to watch but you can't stop. With a heated glance, Azriel’s molten gaze scans your flushed body, layered with sweat and your own arousal, before fixing on the raw apex of your thighs. “Looks like you’ve been putting that snarky mouth to use, Cassian. Perhaps you need more?”

You stiffen, a whimper on the tip of your tongue with the urge to snap your legs shut, but it isn’t you that Cassian is pushed towards. Instead, Azriel lets go of his hair just long enough to undo his own leathers, dropping them to the floor until his chest is stripped bare, tattoos and scars enhanced in the dim lighting of the room. 

“You can get me nice and wet, too, Cassian, since you’ve so kindly gotten our girl all ready for me.” Your arms buckle as the thought of Cassian’s lips wrapped around Azriel’s cock sends a whole new wave of arousal through you. Azriel smirks, sights flicking to you for a moment as he senses your approval. Running a thumb over the kneeling male’s lips, Rhysand shuffles closer behind you, his warm chest pressing to your back and legs stretching out to bracket your hips, supporting you as the scene unfolds. The press of his hot cock into your backside is a reminder of how you have yet to take him. “Don’t tell me you forgot, Cass? You used to suck my cock so well. I guess you’re all ruined now. Perhaps Rhysand will be—”

“No!” Cassian’s overly excited burst pulls a dark chuckle from Az, even as Rhys shifts behind you like he’d just love to take up the offer. “Me. It’s me. I’ve missed the feeling of you on my tongue.”

“I’m sure you have.” Azriel murmurs, nodding to his belt. Cassian’s fumbling hands shoot up to begin unfastening it, and as he struggles to yank tight leathers down Azriel’s muscle-corded thighs, your vision flashes. 

An image, through Rhysand’s eyes. He’s watching himself in the mirror as Cassian presses him into the bed, fucking into him. Azriel is behind Cassian in the memory, thrusting into him like the night may never end, and it's what spurs Cassian’s cock into Rhys over and over again.

Another memory appears, and Cassian’s head hangs backwards off the bed for Rhys to fuck his mouth, as Azriel goes down on him. You can almost visualize the sounds that must’ve been filtering through the room at the time, the wet cavern of Cassian’s throat as Rhys presses in, Azriel slurping at the warlord’s cock, the moans ringing like battle cries throughout their shared room.

More, one of Rhys squirming under scarred fingers, and another of Cassian crying out their names, shadows around wrists and headboards, dark hair and golden sweat-soaked skin and calloused hands grabbing at thick muscles. 

It’s enough that when your vision clears, just in time to watch Cassian lick his way up Azriel’s cock to the tip, there’s new slick dripping down your thighs. As Cassian’s mouth closes over Azriel, the shadowsinger’s head tips back with a satisfied moan, Rhys’ fingertips skate up your thighs once again. One finger dips into you, slow and steady, and your head rolls back onto Rhys’ shoulder, eyes still fixed on the pair at the end of the bed. 

“Don’t let her cum, Rhys.” Your whine is weak, desperate from Azriel’s own brand of torture to edge you, but his head shakes in response, hand sealing around Cassian’s head to hold him still as he thrusts deeply, all the way until Cassian’s nose meets his pubic bone, done with games. “Just keep her ready for me. The next time she comes is on my cock. If she cums, you don’t.”

Rhys’ bucks against your back with a groan as Azriel’s searing gaze moves to him, firm and commanding. You know exactly what it feels like to be on the receiving end of that very look. Between Rhys’ fingers teasing you, Azriel’s soothing words, and the sight of tears beginning to form in Cassian’s eyes as he stares adoringly up at Azriel, you’re hurtling close to the brink. 

At the ragged moan of Cassian’s name on Azriel’s lips, you hit your peak.

But, the pleasure never comes. Cold, sharp talons, careful not to pinch, wrap around your hazy mind, holding you there perfectly, as soft kisses are pressed to your shoulder. You have no doubt that it isn’t a kind gesture, though. This isn’t for you, to help you obey, this is for him. Rhysand wouldn't dare disobey Azriel if it meant his own climax is on the line, you can tell that just from his obedient replies, and that means you are in it together. 

Teetering right on the edge, black spots flashing in your vision as you pant his name on a whisper, nails scraping harshly up his legs. You never slip past the crash, living in the endless circle of an orgasm that doesn’t quite crest. Curling his fingers, Rhys chuckles into your skin as he presses a spot that makes your hips buck wildly, cunt clenching and fingers fisting in the sheets so hard it hurts. His cock smears across your back, precum leaving a sticky mark between your bodies that feels so dirty your head spins. 

Appealing to Rhys will do you nothing, and Cassian has already made his stance for the evening quite clear, but there’s always one person who gives you what you want, what you crave. “Azzy…”

At the sound of his name, his focus returns to you fully. He pulls Cassian from his cock with a pop and lets him hunch over on himself a little to take deep breaths, already mourning the feeling of his throat being used, no doubt. “Are you ready for me, sweetheart?”

“She’s ready.” Rhys promises, pulling his fingers from you and holding them up to show the proof. It’s so obscene your cheeks flush with even more heat, and Azriel smirks, crawling up the bed towards you both. 

“Good boy, Rhys,” He takes Rhysand’s fingers into his mouth and the High Lord lets out a pathetic sound at the praise as he sinks his fingers further into Azriel’s mouth, grinding his hips subconsciously in need. Lining himself up, Azriel curses softly as he slides into you, and the moment Rhys pulls his grip on your mind away, you explode. 

Shaking, a mess in Azriel’s arms as you finally feel full, an out of body experience that leaves you with wet cheeks again, and Azriel only murmurs soft encouragement into your ear as he rides you through the kind of earth shattering orgasm you’ve never before experienced. 

“That didn’t take long,” Cassian snickers, pumping his own cock as he rounds the bed to stand and watch, Rhys huffing needily as he lies flattened beneath you both, getting everything and nothing all at once. 

“I know.” Despite his breathlessness, there’s a smugness to Rhys’ tone, like he’s done it all on purpose, hoping that if you finish soon, Azriel might move onto him. It’s a good plan, in theory, if it isn’t for the way Azriel leaves loving kisses along your jaw, hips rocking slowly as he works. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m all yours. They don’t get to cum until you decide it. It’s your turn to punish them, and I’m just here to help.”

[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer | jjk (07)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, mentions of oc's mother because we know girlie is hella traumatized, mentions of drinking, mentions of an almost physical fight, abandonment issues, jk forgets to practice safe driving for 2 seconds, and uhmmm kissing 🤫, anddd that cliffhanger? 👀 rating: 18+ (minors dni) word count: 10.8k note (1): this is the longest it has taken me to update obs and i do feel pretty guilty about that. but it's finally here now and this is one of the chapters that i'm the most nervous about posting. massive thanks to @daechwitatamic and @wintaerbaer for beta-ing this for me or else i would've screamed cried thrown up and scrapped the whole thing, and to @jeonwiixard for being a wonderful cheerleader as i was writing this, and to everyone in my beloved obs discord server for always being so sweet and kind and putting a smile on my smile every day since the server was created. also to my sunshine ☀︎ for introducing me to the song mentioned below bc HELLO is it not just one of the most obs coded songs ever. love you all my babies <3

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist join our OBS discord server ✨

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Somewhere in the multiverse There's a me and you that works We never fuck it up We're out there still in love Somewhere in the multiverse Maybe that's enough

multiverse - Maya Manuele ft. PEMRBOKE

Sometimes, whenever you look up at the moon at night, you wonder if Jungkook is doing the same thing.

Even when you fall out of love with someone, it still hurts. It hurts because you once loved them so much it felt like the sky would collapse if you couldn’t be with them. It hurts because the love wasn’t taken from you, but rather it started slipping away on its own, more and more each day until you realize you’re holding onto nothing when there once was everything.

You can’t say that you’re too familiar with that kind of hurt though. You’ve never fallen out of love before.

You don’t think Jungkook is too familiar with it either, at least not when he left you.

You wonder if he thinks about you from time to time and gets sad. You think he does, because you know that he loved you. Something ended for him too. The memories that you shared were his memories too.

You hope that it’s painful for him whenever thoughts of you cross his mind, because that would mean that he cares. That a part of him still cares.

And if he still cares, then he might come back.

Despite the front that you try to parade around, there is a part of you that will always leave your heart vacant for him, regardless of whether or not he would return. It’s a scary thought, one that you would rather avoid at all costs, one that says there will be no one that you love more than you loved Jungkook. Maybe there can’t be another person that you will love at all.

You can come back quietly, like the wind slipping through the crack I leave in the window at night; or you can announce your return resoundingly like a sudden downpour quenching the summer heat. I don’t care. I kept your side of the bed empty and warm, waiting for you to come back. Hoping that you would come home.

[08:47] Yoongi: sure you don’t want me to drive you there? [08:48] Yoongi: i can pick you up in 30 [08:52] You: positive 🤧 i told you i already booked the train. it’s only 4 hours away [08:53] You: i’ll survive, yoongs [08:55] Yoongi: did you not watch Train To Busan? [08:56] You: ? [08:57] Yoongi: what if there’s a zombie apocalypse [09:00] You: yoongi if there’s a zombie apocalypse, how is your CONVERTIBLE supposed to keep me safe [09:01] Yoongi: i’ll put the roof up [09:02] You: stop talking [09:02] You: please stop talking. [09:03] Yoongi: 😡😡😡 [09:03] You: 😇 [09:03] You: gotta get dressed now though. i’ll see u when i get back? :) [09:05] Yoongi: fine [09:06] Yoongi: safe travels. text me when you get there :)

You plop onto your bed with a sigh, glancing at the bag that’s already packed and sitting near your wardrobe, lonely. You stay like that for a while, contemplating whether or not you should bail at the very last minute.

It was not on your bingo card that you’d be here, agonizing over your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding. Nope. Absolutely no one saw it coming.

For fuck’s sake, why would they invite you to a wedding? A celebration of love? It feels like you’re being forced onto a prank show, just waiting for someone to jump out and scream in your face.

You learned that the wedding was for close friends and family only, so it would be a relatively small event, which makes it even more confusing why you were also asked to join. Maybe the world is changing too rapidly and you’re just a little old-fashioned for it, but you really don’t understand why your ex-boyfriend’s family would want you there.

Taehyung and Jimin were invited too; they’re Jungkook’s best friends after all. They’re practically an extension of the family, Jungkook’s brothers by choice. But Taehyung doesn’t come back from his work trip until the day of the wedding, and Jimin… Well, he just doesn’t want to go to a Busan wedding in the middle of winter.

So why are you even going?

You could’ve declined. Said you couldn’t attend because the invitation came in so late. Made up a work trip or a family emergency. There’s a plethora of excuses you could’ve used.

Or you could’ve simply said no. That would’ve been perfectly fine too. No one would even need to ask why.

But maybe it was because his mother had customized the invite with her own handwriting in the back. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t spent hours meticulously studying the card like someone was going to quiz you. It wasn’t anything special - just We hope to see you there - but you think you’d feel really bad to decline after she’d made the extra effort to ask you to come.

When you told Yoongi that you would be attending Jungkook’s brother’s wedding, he didn’t seem upset. Still cool as a cucumber. Although if he was bothered by the announcement, you don’t think he would’ve let it show. It did take him a minute to take it in, but then he just pecked your cheek and asked if you could bring a plus-one. You both knew that you wouldn’t even if that was an option.

Pushing your body off the bed, you drag yourself to the bathroom to splash some water on your face. Then sunscreen. Then change into the clothes you’d already picked out last night. Your train doesn’t leave for another hour and fifteen minutes, but you want to be there at least twenty minutes early just in case. This is one of your only good habits.

You rub your eyes when you finally haul yourself outside, thinking you must still be dreaming because what is Jungkook’s car doing here?

You blink a few times, expecting the vehicle to disappear in a puff of white smoke.

Spoiler alert: It doesn’t.

The car is in front of you, but the man is nowhere to be found.

You stand there dumbfoundedly, contemplating whether you should wait it out for a little bit to see if he’s actually here. He comes running up to you a couple minutes later, holding two paper cups in his hands, one of them a chai latte. A memory you’d buried long ago comes rushing to the surface. It’s too early for you to be feeling.

“Hi,” he says, his warm breath coming out in a huff of smoke in the crisp morning air.

“Hi?” you mutter dumbly when he trades the bag in your hand for the drink. There’s a moment where you’re genuinely baffled, wondering if this is a memory reel playing right before your eyes. This is your Jungkook, wearing that same old smile whenever he used to come bounding up your dorm building so you could walk to the library together, where he would hang out with you during your shift if he didn’t have classes. “What are you doing here?”

You don’t remember telling him what time your train was, so he’d probably badgered it out of Taehyung or Jimin somehow.

“I thought I could drive us there,” he says. “I texted you about it.”

Well, that explains it. You don’t bother with his dozens of messages anymore. “Oh, uhm, I already booked the train.”

This doesn’t seem to faze him at all. “Free cancellation up to 15 minutes before departure.” Jungkook grins, clearly eager despite your obvious reluctance. It’s too early for this, whatever the hell this is.

When you told him that you had RSVP’d yes to the invitation, he was surprised that you even knew about the wedding. He even seemed nervous that day.

“What if I’d already left?” you ask.

He blinks, then stammers like a confused child. It’s cute, and you have to mentally slap yourself over the head for even thinking that.

“Then I’d go after you.”

How? you scoff internally. Unrealistic.

Regardless, not even an hour ago, you were declining Yoongi’s offer to drive you there. Now, you’re standing here, in front of your ex-boyfriend, contemplating whether or not you should go with him.

“Let’s go,” he says after a minute. “We don’t wanna be stuck in traffic.”

“I haven’t said yes.” Yet. “It’s a 4-hour drive.”

You don’t have to clarify what you mean. He understands it.

You both just stare at each other for a moment, the tension suddenly thickening with every passing second. Four hours on the road. Four hours alone in a car with Jungkook. That’s about two hundred minutes more than you think you can handle.

It’s like he can see right through you. “Don’t think about it,” he says, voice dropping lower. “It’s just a weekend. Everything will still be here for you to think about when we get back.”

In your head, it translates to: All of our shit will still be here when we get back. You can keep being mad at me then.

You hope that’s not true. You hope that when you get back, the things that keep you up at night will simply cease to exist. That in the two days you’ll be gone, a genie will materialize and solve all your problems for you.

Either way, it’s probably for the best that you aren’t mean to him this weekend. You’re stuck with him for the next 48 hours or so; it’ll only stress you out even more if you channel all of your energy into tormenting him. Besides, you’re already the ex girlfriend who has no place alongside his family. You don’t want to be the dark cloud raining on everyone’s parade too.

Maybe you’d already made up your mind when you let him take the bag from you.

For the first half of the drive, you were unconscious.

It’s a useless superpower that you have, the ability to fall asleep anywhere - literally anywhere, including in the passenger seat of your ex-boyfriend’s car while he escorts you to his hometown. Melatonin gummies manufacturers hate you.

You could’ve slept the whole drive, but around the second hour mark, you were startled awake when your body jostled forward, straining against your seatbelt uncomfortably. There was an arm trying to hold you back, despite the seatbelt having done its job well.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses before he turns toward you, worry written all over his face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, are you okay?”

You blink, still half asleep. “I’m okay,” you say. The minivan that Jungkook almost rear-ended continues on its merry way, carrying what seems to be a family of five. “What happened?”

He sighs, his outstretched arm retreating back to his side. “I got a bit distracted, that’s all.”

You take in your surroundings then. There’s barely any other cars in sight, no tacky billboard that sticks out like a sore thumb to catch your attention. There’s just the freeway, stretching on empty for all you can see.

“By what?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

See, you have the superpower of falling asleep anywhere and everywhere, but once you’ve been woken up, it’s not as easy to fall back asleep.

That, and the fact that you’re hungry as shit.

You open your mouth, about to say no, about to offer to drive the rest of the way if Jungkook is tired, but your stomach doesn’t let you get a word out. It growls, filling the space of the car, making you want to chuck yourself out the fucking window and run all the way back to the city. This wouldn’t have happened had you taken the train, because if you had, there would’ve been food services and no one would be subject to hearing your stomach sing like it’s chewing out a small puppy in there. Life is nothing but an endless pit of embarrassment and despair.

Your arms hold themselves tighter around your frame, practically squeezing into your abdomen as you will it to please, please, please be quiet. Jungkook stares at you, and you can tell by the teeny tiny quirk of his lips that he’s trying to bite back a smile. He’s relaxed, but there’s still something hesitant on his face. It takes him a minute before he finally throws the question out.

“Do you want to go to that guksu place that we used-” that we used to go to, “you know the place. The one that’s right off the freeway?”

The sun is out today. The sky unfolds endlessly just outside the window, coloring blue everything your eyes land on. There are strips of clouds scattered here and there, like delicate strokes of white paint on an azure canvas. Even the winter cold has to soften.You bite into your cheek. Don’t think, that’s what he had told you.

Not much about this quaint restaurant has changed. The quirky decorations are still where they used to be, the windows still the same unique stained glass that you never came across anywhere else. You remember the elderly woman who runs the place, even if she doesn’t have a single clue who you are. The golden retriever you used to fawn over every time you stopped by, sits quietly by the door and watches the cars pass by, his fur now graying as weariness begins to settle into those old bones.

You would’ve been displeased if the place had changed, because, well, you don’t like change. But then again, this familiarity is dangerous. It tricks you into thinking that everything is still the same, even you and him. Deludes you into believing that you’re still in love and that he’ll walk out of here holding your hand.

Regardless, the first spoonful has you biting back a smile.

“How is it?” Jungkook asks.

It makes you feel all warm inside, and then a little sad, nostalgic.

“Tastes just the same,” you tell him simply.

“Hmm.”

He lets you satisfy your hunger in peace. It’s the least he can do anyway.

There’s a wall near the back of the restaurant, where people could hang polaroids of themselves and cute handwritten notes. You think if you dig through the hundreds of photos scattered across the space, you might be able to find you and Jungkook there, if you two haven’t already been thrown out long ago to make room for new memories.

He pays for your food after you’re both finished, despite some protesting on your side. As you leave, you’re busy thinking that if you could have a moment to marvel at that far-back wall of memories, if you could find a photo of you and him there, you would probably sneak it into your coat pocket.

It’d be another thing to add to your pile of Jungkook memorabilia - the old clothes in the back of your closet, the stack of dusty polaroids at the bottom of your drawer. You wonder if he keeps anything of yours, maybe an old t-shirt that you forgot to take back. It’s probably unlikely, but a girl can hope.

You miss the way Jungkook glances back, thinking the exact same thing.

You survive the rest of the drive with more ease, probably because of the food. You spend most of the remaining 2 hours leaning against the window, humming to the radio, closing your eyes but not really sleeping. You even forget to be nervous about what is to come.

That is, until the car pulls up to the venue.

It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a lot bigger than you imagined - a modern beach house overlooking the waters. It’s not as extravagant as one would expect to see when they come to a wedding, but considering the small crowd in attendance, this is more than enough. You see people rush in and out of the place even from far away - planners, caterers, the bridesmaids and groomsmen, probably.

You feel a bit comforted just watching this. His family seems to be doing a lot better than before. It’s nice to know.

You barely make it out of the car before someone calls your name, and pulls you into a hug that knocks the wind out of you. Although, when you catch the scent of her hair, you instantly know who it is.

Parents usually have a scent that’s distinct to only their kids, a scent so cozy and homely that no perfume can ever mask. You can only describe your mom’s scent with a feeling, specifically the feeling of your chest tightening, tingling with a bittersweetness that you never found elsewhere. 

Strangely enough, Jungkook’s mother has always made you feel the opposite. She makes you feel relieved to be in her embrace, like she accepts you for who you are even if all you are to her, at the end of the day, is a stranger.

You hug her back awkwardly, hesitantly, in front of Jungkook’s dad, his brother Junghyun, and a girl you don’t know. You assume that she’s the bride-to-be, the main character whom this weekend revolves around. Sooji, you remember that was the name on the wedding invitation.

You get choked up suddenly, eyes turning glassy though you quickly blink it away. You’re not sure if you’ve had someone be so happy to see you. Bypassers might even think that you just found the cure for cancer.

For a second there, you wonder if your mere presence has ever made your mother this overjoyed.

You look at Jungkook for help, silently asking him to rescue you. Who else are you supposed to turn to if not him?

He understands that look. “Okay, mom,” he says, entangling her arms from you with ease, “Y/N’s tired from the drive. Let’s let her rest, yeah? I’ll show her the room.”

She ignores her son. “Honey,” she says, brushing your hair away from your face so she could see you better. “Thank you for coming.” She used to insist that you call her “mom”, or at least by her first name because “Mrs. Jeon” was too formal for someone she considered family.

You now have to opt for the latter, because “mom” isn’t an option for you anymore.

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Jeon,” you tell her with a smile. You’re not really sure what else to say, but it makes you a little sad just calling her that.

She opens her mouth before closing it again, seemingly about to jokingly scold you for the formality before she recognizes the bittersweet look in your eyes. She just smiles at you then. There’s not much to be done about it.

You don’t know if anyone else sees how the moment is weighed down. Probably not. Maybe it’s just you and her who share this sentiment.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for his mom anymore. Sons, typical. He wedges himself between the two of you like a bulldozer and leads you inside the house. 

Even though all you have is an overnight bag, Jungkook carries it for you all the way up to your room, which is only down the hall from his. Then he disappears pretty quickly afterward, saying something about his best man duties and putting out fires. He seems apologetic as he tells you this, but it’s not like you’re expecting him to babysit you all weekend.

You bore yourself to death in your room for a while, before you remember you have to text Yoongi to let him know you got here safely. Though, you stop short of telling him that it was Jungkook who drove you here. It’s trivial enough, right? You don’t want Yoongi to feel bad over nothing. You do, however, inform Taehyung and Jimin when you text them about it, to which Jimin only responds with a preemptively disapproving ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

When you get too stir-crazy, you wander outside, hoping to explore the beach before it gets dark and colder. You try to stay out of everyone’s way, because a good guest is a quiet guest. You seem to be doing a good job. No one notices you, not even Jungkook’s mom but that’s because she’s the person you actively want to avoid the most. You don’t know what you’d even say to her if she gets you alone.

Everything is hectic, as one can probably imagine when it comes to wedding preparations. You haven’t had anyone close to you get married yet, so it’s safe to say that you’re pretty much clueless about all of this. You wonder what it’ll be like when your big day comes around, if you even ever get married. You haven’t thought about it in a long time. Why would you? You don’t really have a reason to think about this. It’s much easier to picture Taehyung’s or Jimin’s wedding day than your own.

Your opinion on having kids still remains the same, and you were never one of those girls who daydreamed about having a big and extravagant wedding, but it’s not such a bad idea to ponder about. You still think marriage is a scary thing - it’s one of the biggest commitments a person could ever make - but you’re not entirely opposed to getting married. 

Why are you even mulling over this? Your time might never even come.

When you round the corner to get the steps that would lead you down to the beach, you run into Sooji and a woman holding a thick binder - must be a wedding planner. You give Jungkook’s future sister-in-law an awkward smile in greeting, which she returns much more gracefully before she tells the woman that she’ll be with her in a minute.

So now you’re stuck here, about to make small talk with a person you have never met before, and will likely never see again. Great. 

“Hi,” you say, extending a hand. “I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Sooji,” she replies warmly as she shakes your hand, and you have to stop yourself from being a little weirdo and thinking about how silky her hair looks up close. “You’re Jungkook’s… friend, right?”

You purse your lips before nodding with a chuckle. The pause tells you that she knows, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she’s uncomfortable having you here. 

“I’m sorry if this is weird. You probably don’t want a complete stranger at your wedding.”

Sooji shakes her head instantly, waving her hands around to dismiss your apology. “Please, it’s totally fine. Junghyun’s mom talked to me about it before we sent out the invites. I wouldn’t have agreed if I was really bothered. Don’t worry about it, seriously.”

“Why did you agree?” you ask, trying to sound as polite as possible. “You don’t know who I am.”

“I guess I was curious.” She shrugs, before laughing lightly as she says, “I used to think you weren’t real.”

“Huh?”

“She talks about you constantly. Never in front of Jungkook, of course. But she’s really fond of you, and you probably already know that doesn’t happen very often. She really does see you like a daughter. She made you sound too good to be true.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. His mom still thinks about you, still talks about you after all this time. You’re just his ex-girlfriend, but she considers you her family. You don’t know what to do with this information nor the way it pinches your heart.

“I-” You purse your lips, fumbling with the responses in your head. You settle on a light laugh, because Sooji can probably tell that you’re struggling with the words too. “I have to be honest. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought you should know that you’re still very much loved here.” She gives you a kind smile, and it looks like she wants to tell you something else but decides against it in the end. Sooji’s eyes land somewhere behind you before she points in that general direction. “I have to go take care of an issue with the flowers, but look, Jungkook is here. Why don’t you ask him to show you around?”

And then she’s already off. Overall, what a… strange interaction.

You turn around to see Jungkook standing near one of the entrances to the house. As you watch him talk to someone - a bridesmaid, you assume, or just one of the other guests - you try not to think about the fact that there’s a stirring sensation in your stomach, and that it only intensifies when she throws her head back in a pretty laugh, a perfectly manicured hand landing on his arm like he’s the most charming person she’s ever met. 

You don’t give it a name, don’t label it green in color even though you’re blue and he’s golden sunshine. You don’t acknowledge that it’s a feeling, because doing so would make it real and there are certain truths that you’d rather delude yourself into thinking are lies.

When Jungkook’s eyes catch yours and he cuts off the woman mid-sentence with a curt excuse me, you don’t acknowledge that feeling either, but it’s warm and it blooms in your chest as he makes his way to you. It’s something victorious, something that tickles your ribs.

He comes to you like you’re a destination he’s been waiting all his life to reach, and you certainly, adamantly don’t acknowledge the spectacularly dizzying feeling that swallows you whole when he places a gentle hand on your arm, his voice soft as he says, “There you are. I was looking for you.”

The familiarity, it’s catastrophic.

“I was just walking around,” you tell him. “There’s not a lot to do here. I was bored.”

“You have me,” he says. Probably not in that way, but you’d like to think that’s how he means it. “I don’t have any more fires to put out. What do you want to do now?”

You glance over your surroundings, still set on your original plans. You wanted to go alone, but you suppose you can let him accompany you. You check the time on your phone before asking, “Can we go down to the beach? I wanna see if we can catch the sunset.”

You used to do this whenever you came here to visit - walk along the beach, hand in hand, sunlight in your hair and the cool breeze holding you tight in the afterglow.

The keyword here is “used to”. Now, you have to stuff your hands in your pockets just so you don’t reach for him every time you shiver.

It’s late enough in the afternoon for you to see the moon faintly shine against a blue and orange backdrop. Sun and moon, together in the same frame. It feels symbolic somehow. You’re not really sure.

“The moon looks like an egg,” Jungkook observes astutely, taking casual strides next to you. It makes you burst into easy laughter, which makes him laugh with you too. You stop walking when you reach what you think is a good spot to watch the sky. 

“Let’s sit here for a bit,” you say. It’s not the greatest idea - sitting idly by would only make you colder - but you just want to stop and look at the sunset. Once you’re seated in the sand, you respond to his moon remark, “That’s true, y’know. NASA said so.”

“Yeah,” he says, settling down beside you, “you made me read that.”

You’d forgotten about it, and you didn’t think that he’d remember. It’s freezing cold and the moon looks like an egg, but you’re not thinking, and you feel safe. Nothing can hurt you here, or at least that’s what you’d like to tell yourself.

You wrap your arms around yourself to keep from shivering, but you still shiver anyways.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“A little,” you admit. “I should’ve worn a thicker sweater. But it’s o-”

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, just smoothly takes off his jacket to put it around your shoulders.

You put your hands atop his to stop him. When you touch him, there’s an electric tingle that almost makes you flinch. He feels warm, still resembling a human furnace. 

“No, you don’t have t-”

“Take the jacket, Y/N,” he says. “It’s just a jacket.”

The jacket smells like him. It only makes you want to crawl further into the warmth.

He seems more self-assured here, that’s what you notice. More like the version of himself that he used to be. Confident, sometimes borderline cocky. Annoying but oddly endearing, you came to love that about him.

His relaxed demeanor is understandable. You’re merely a visitor here, while this is his homeground. 

“I’m curious about something,” he says after a while.

“Okay.”

“What’s the deal with Wednesdays?” he asks. 

“You know how they say bad things come in threes?” You purse your lips, thinking it over, feeling something bitter in your mouth as you recall the events that led to this. “My parents got divorced on a Wednesday. I moved out of mom’s house on a Wednesday. And…” You hold your knees close to your chest as you hesitate to utter this last part, “we broke up on a Wednesday.”

You see the exact moment Jungkook mentally slaps himself, paling a couple shades as he tongues his cheek, not expecting his question to inadvertently lead back to this. It wasn’t your intention to guilt trip him. It was true that he dumped you on a Wednesday, but you don’t want the mood to turn sour, to have to mull over this again. Like he said, it will still be there for you to worry about when you get back. You’re not looking forward to returning to a shitshow, but what you’d hate even more is to tarnish the memories of this place just because you can’t keep from being vindictive for not even a weekend.

“I was born on a Wednesday too, so I guess bad things come in fours sometimes,” you continue, chuckling to yourself humorlessly.

A frown appears on his face almost instantaneously. “What is that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. Jungkook turns his body toward you, which makes you spare him a glance before you return your gaze to the horizon. His face is so serious that it’s almost funny. “Y/N,” he presses. “Why would you say that?”

“C’mon, it’s a joke. I was just being self-deprecating. Lighten up.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what? Contrary to popular belief, I don’t walk around with a thundercloud over my head all the time,” you laugh lightly. “I figured if there was a day to be nice to you, it should be today. And tomorrow, I guess.”

“This is you being nice?”

Funny how just a few weeks ago, you were fighting with him and calling him a hypocrite. Now, you’re sitting together, watching the sun set, trying not to be mean to him.

“I’m not picking a fight with you,” you say. “This is nice enough.”

“It’s not even my wedding.”

“Okay.” You glance at him again, letting words flow without a single thought. “I’ll be even nicer to you on your wedding day then.”

You don’t know where that even came from, but something aches the very second the words leave your mouth. The thought of him getting married one day makes you just nauseous, even though you always knew that it was a possibility. It might even be inevitable.

You clear your throat, waving the sullen feeling away. Your body shivers then, even after the added warmth of his jacket. Maybe you’re not shivering because of the cold anymore.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes linger on the side of your face. The both of you keep tiptoeing around an elephant that follows you wherever you go. 

You hug your knees close to your chest, watching the blue sky melt into the golden horizon, splattered with ribbons of cotton candy clouds.

You want to scooch closer to him and have him wrap his arm around your shoulders. This isn’t the spot where you used to draw your names in the sand, enveloped in a giant heart like two lovesick kids, but wouldn’t it be nice to imagine that it is?

“I was always really happy here,” you mumble to yourself.

You were, truly. This city was your pocket of hope, your piece of peace.

Being here brings back so many memories.

It’s the same feeling you get every time you pass by somewhere you used to live. The nostalgia of walking down the same road you used to walk every day until your shoes wore out. The familiarity of your surroundings. The bittersweetness of looking into a past you cannot hold anymore, of remembering the person you were at a certain period in your life, of knowing the things you do now that you didn’t back then.

You long for things you cannot change.

Nostalgia only grows stronger with time, you can always count on that.

He hums in agreement, before admitting quietly, “I miss you.” One pulls, the other pushes. The water wavers, like it’s touched by his words, simple but earnest. You’re touched too, somewhere in your heart, where you know you should be writing someone else’s name now.

Should?

“You’re pushing it,” you say softly.

“I know.”

You look at him. Maybe it’s because you’re back in the city that holds only good memories of you two. Maybe you’re hypnotized by the way the pink and purple hues kiss his side profile, making him feel like a fever dream and not someone you loved. Maybe it’s the cold, making you yearn for any source of warmth. But instead of returning his sentiment, you say, “It’ll pass.”

He meets your eyes. There’s something pleading in his gaze. All things pass eventually. Time moves forward, people move on. Bad things will pass sooner or later. Your worst heartbreak, your most arduous trials, your saddest moments, they will all pass.

And good things… good things will have to pass too, whether you like it or not.

Your fingers twitch from where they’re still holding onto your body. You itch to reach for his hand. You don’t tell him what he wants to hear, even though here’s a part of you that wants to say it back. In a better world, you would be telling him I love you too, instead of having to suppress an I miss you too.

“All things have to pass eventually. This will too.”

[20:05] Taebear 🐻: we could go to that bar near the gallery. Y/N likes the cocktails there [20:06] Mimi 🐥: kay kay [20:06] Mimi 🐥: soooooo next friday? [20:09] Mimi 🐥: why is y/n reading our messages. shouldn’t she be at dinner [20:09] You: i approve of the bar choice [20:11] You: if you didn’t want me reading your messages, you shouldn’t have sent them to the gc [20:11] You: and if you must know, i’m skipping dinner. i’m avoiding Jungkook’s mom [20:12] Mimi 🐥: understandable. i figured you would do that [20:13] Mimi 🐥: how’s it going? are we regretting going yet? i told you to just stay home and we could binge watch the office together [20:15] You: and EYE told you that you could be a good friend and go to this wedding with me but nooooo baby doesn’t like the cold [20:16] You: you could’ve visited your parents while you’re here you know. two birds with one stone [20:18] Mimi 🐥: babes my parents stayed with me for a whole month last month. i reached my quota for family face time  [20:19] You: son and friend of the year 👏 [20:20] Mimi 🐥: 😎😎😎😘

[20:22] Taebear 🐻: hey [20:23] You: uh oh. am i in trouble? why is this not in the gc? [20:25] Taebear 🐻: lol shut up [20:26] Taebear 🐻: you okay? [20:28] You: feels like that could’ve been a perfectly good question to ask in the gc [20:29] Taebear 🐻: because it’s a serious question and we both know Jimin can’t be serious for one minute to save his life [20:32] You: why does it have to be a serious question? 🤪 [20:32] Taebear 🐻: 😕 [20:33] You: stop pouting. i’m fine [20:35] Taebear 🐻: are you? [20:36] You: i am! you don’t have to go all mama bear on me [20:39] Taebear 🐻: ha ha ha. you’re so funny [20:40] Taebear 🐻: want me to call you? [20:42] You: i said i’m fiiiiiine 🙄 [20:43] You: but also no because i told everyone i was tired and i’m pretending to be asleep in my room right now [20:43] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:43] Taebear 🐻: did you eat something at least? [20:44] You: i have a cup ramen in my room [20:45] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:46] Taebear 🐻: how was today? did JK make you wanna strangle him? [20:48] You: okay Kim Taehyung at least act like you have some faith in your friend lol [20:50] You: but mmmmmm it was ok. he was mostly behaving himself [20:51] Taebear 🐻: mostly? [20:54] You: we were down at the beach and he just told me he missed me out of the blue [20:55] You: Mimi is asking why no one is replying to him  [20:57] Taebear 🐻: i can see that [20:58] Taebear 🐻: what did you tell JK? [21:01] You: i quoted fleabag to him [21:09] Taebear 🐻: i had to google that [21:10] Taebear 🐻: i still don’t know what that means [21:11] You: i know you don’t lol. you’re adorable [21:11] You: i’ll tell you when i get back.  [21:13] You: ok bye i have to sleep early or i’ll look like ass in the morning [21:14] Taebear 🐻: oh. okay [21:15] Taebear 🐻: sleep tight. remember not to gorge yourself on booze tomorrow [21:17] You: thanks for the reminder. love you mom 🙄💕 [21:17] Taebear 🐻: :) [21:20] Taebear 🐻: you won’t look like ass btw

You clocked out right after you told Taehyung that you would. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep though. The anxiety simmering in your belly woke you up a few times throughout the night. You don’t even know why you were anxious. It’s not like you were the one who was about to walk down the aisle.

When morning finally came and you managed to untangle yourself from the surprising comfort of your familiar bed, you practically dragged your feet for the subsequent two hours, trying to get ready. As if that would actually slow down the passage of time.

You had to compartmentalize the things you needed to do in a mental checklist. Makeup. Hair. Dress. Stare at yourself in the mirror for half an hour and internally freak out while waiting for Jungkook to come get you from your room.

Now you’re sitting in the wedding hall, watching people filter into the room. It’s not even a lot of people, but you’re still overwhelmed regardless.

You feel so exposed, even though he’s the only one looking at you in this room of strangers. He’s been looking at you like that ever since he first saw you this morning, in a dress that you got just days before the wedding. You still don’t know if it’s entirely appropriate for your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding - maybe a bit revealing - but it was the only one you could find on such short notice.

When you tried on the dress for Taehyung and Jimin a few days ago, Taehyung said you looked beautiful. Jimin said you looked decent, “six point five out of ten,” which translated to “pretty nice” in Jimin-lingo. That would’ve been enough if you were going to any other wedding, not one where Jungkook would also be attending.

You had wanted him to see you and regret ever leaving you.

It was a silly thought, just a tad adolescent.

You had wanted him to see you in your dress and be consumed with thoughts of you until he couldn’t even see straight. To be the only thing on his mind, you didn’t think it was a lot to ask for.

That was before he told you not to think about it and you’d been convinced to just go with the flow just for two days. It was before he actually did see you earlier today in your dress - a simple midnight blue satin cowl neck with a slit in the thigh - but you were the one rendered helpless and speechless. He had stared at you for a minute when he came to walk you down from your room, then he’d said, all breathless even though both of you were just standing there, “You’re beautiful.”

You’re beautiful, not You look beautiful.

You don’t know why, but you appreciated it.

It made your cheeks burn underneath your artificial rosy blush. Stupid, you thought to yourself when you two made your way to the main hall. Stupid for letting yourself get dizzy because of a single compliment from him.

You’re seated with his parents, which makes sense because you don’t know anybody here except for them. Well, maybe you know one of his cousins whose kid you and Jungkook used to babysit whenever their family was in the city, but you doubt that he even remembers you anymore.

When the ceremony begins, your heart instantly feels like it’s about to drop to the pit of your stomach.

You can’t lie to yourself. It stings.

It stings just sitting here next to his parents like a daughter-in-law, like a member of their family, watching his brother solidify his happy ending.

It stings that Jungkook is standing up there, looking as handsome as ever, but his eyes aren’t on the couple. They keep flickering to you no matter how much you try to pretend that they don’t.

It stings that even though you don’t think about marriage often - or maybe you just don’t allow yourself to - you can’t deny that the thought does cross your mind from time to time. Any time that you’d wander the corridors inside your head, you’d pass the doors that you keep unopened on purpose but there’s always that one door marked with a bright red X that you can never sidestep.

You watch Junghyun and Sooji with their teary smiles and shaky hands, shaky but happy. There’s a sudden clarity that this could’ve been you and him in another life. Forever is a lie, but you would’ve perjured yourself a thousand times for him. I do - you would’ve meant it.

You imagine yourself in Sooji’s place, and Jungkook, standing right on the other side, holding both your hands in his. A beautiful and radiant bride terrified of the altar. A dashing groom with a smile that could rival the sun and shoulders weighing heavier than he lets on.

It would’ve looked clumsy, but it could’ve been right.

You wonder if he’s wondering the same thing. Maybe he is. You hope he is.

When the ceremony ends with a kiss shared between the newlyweds, you wipe away the tears that well up in your eyes. The people around you do the same thing, but they’re doing it for the right reason, out of genuine joy for the happy couple. You don’t think you can say the same for yourself.

Some of the bridesmaids fawn over him. It’s reasonable, you suppose. One tends to do that in the presence of Jeon Jungkook.

You watch as they come up to him one by one to ask him to dance, watch as he politely declines until they’re all stalking away with similar pouts on their faces. You watch him until his eyes lock on you, sitting at a table near the back, nursing a glass of champagne.

He weaves himself with ease through the people making their way to the dance floor. When he’s in front of you, he holds out a hand.

“Dance with me?” he asks, his doe eyes working overtime to lure you in with their sparkles, though you’d rather stay here where you can easily go unnoticed until the night ends. “One song?”

“I don’t know how,” you say, even as you’re taking his hand and standing up.

“I showed you how, remember?”

“That was a long time ago.”

He squeezes you reassuringly. “Just follow my lead,” he says, walking the both of you to the floor. “C’mon.”

Once the music starts, your heels stomp on his feet at least three times before you start finding the beat to move along to. Muscle memory, or whatever, is bullshit. You remember absolutely nothing of what he showed you.

You’re grateful that the song is slow, because it makes it easier for you to follow the beat with your two left feet. He takes one of your hands in his, the other settling on the small of your back, guiding you to move in a steady rhythm.

You feel his mother’s eyes on the two of you, because she must be somewhere nearby, watching you like a hawk. You feel his gaze on your face while you keep yours on the knot of his tie, just trying to keep your composure and to not step on his feet with your heels.

The blur of white that you catch from the periphery of your vision makes you turn your head. Sooji and Junghyun are close by, swaying together slowly to the soft music, both of them glowing with happiness. She must sense your eyes on her, because she lifts her gaze up to meet yours. She smiles at the sight of you and Jungkook, and you smile back, because you don’t know how else to respond to that.

You don’t say it, but you do think it. Your fingers tighten around his hand ever so slightly.

Could that have been us?

If the answer is yes, then it would hurt.

If the answer is no, then it would hurt.

The point of your story is that it’s painful however you choose to look at it. There’s no other way to frame it. It’s just painful, because you’re never going to get any of it back.

You bite your lip, then turn away from the happy couple but you still don’t look at Jungkook. You look at your hand in his, and that’s when you see it.

“How’d you get that?” you ask, gently tracing the inch of slightly raised skin on his knuckles. You never noticed the scar until now.

“It was four years ago, I think? After Taehyung and I almost got into a fight, I went outside and… punched a wall,” he says, wincing as he recalls the memory.

His answer takes you aback. “You and Taehyung got into a fight?”

“Almost,” he corrects. “It was a long time ago. Didn’t they tell you?”

“No, they didn’t say anything. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“If it was really nothing, you wouldn’t have punched a wall.” You frown. It makes you miss a few beats, but the song isn’t what’s important now, even if Jungkook is still trying to steer you back into the dance. “Taehyung isn’t violent. You aren’t violent.”

“I’m serious,” he says finally. “It’s nothing. We were just drunk and stupid.”

You know there must be more to it, that something must have happened or been said to trigger such a reaction from both of them. But you also know that you won’t probably get anything out of Jungkook if he doesn’t want to tell you.

You give up, for now. “Fine. If you say so.”  You’ll just have to weasel it out of Jimin later.

The song comes to an end, before another one comes on. If Jungkook remembers that he only asked for one song, maybe he’s counting his blessings that you’re still here and dancing with him, because he doesn’t mention it.

For some reason, you pull your hand away from his, only to slide up his shoulder to lock both of your hands behind his neck. He seems surprised, but he does the same around your waist.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to your lips briefly, then back to your eyes again. You find yourself doing the same and wonder what he tastes like after all the time you’ve been apart. Is he still as sweet as you remember? You used to tease that it was because of the excessive sugar he put in everything, but you knew it was really just him. The few inches between you are so inviting that it’s practically tempting you to close the gap. You could, easily in fact. Blame it on one too many glasses of champagne later if you want.

He looks younger like this, like the boy you loved, starry eyes and dimpled smile. His shoulders are always the most comfortable resting place, the crook of his neck your long lost home. This is nice, you think, to see him again even though it feels like a fever dream. Memories of your first date, your first kiss, come to life before your eyes so realistically that you could almost touch them.

Loved? That sounds funny to you.

The people you used to be, souls wrapped in innocence, when the world was nothing but the arms of the person you loved. You reach out, and the memories quickly fade from view. The only trace they leave behind is a speck of gold on your fingertips, a memento of charming naiveté for you to tuck neatly away in the corner of your mind, but also a reminder that ah, they only exist in the locket of your heart now. Because he has changed, and you think you must have too. Life, as they say, goes on.

“We made it. Kind of. That’s crazy,” you find yourself saying.

“Did we?”

“You don’t think so?” you chuckle. “We’re in a group chat with the Kim Seokjin who spams it with bad jokes on a daily basis. I’d call that a win.”

That makes him laugh. “If you put it like that, yeah, maybe. Sure.”

Other people might be fooled, but it doesn’t sound at all convincing to you. The light doesn’t really reach his eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking of how to translate the sudden poignant turn of the moment.

“It isn’t everything you hoped it’d be?” you ask.

His shoulders rise then fall quickly in a second-long shrug. “I thought it would make me feel more… fulfilled. But it doesn’t. Not really.”

The way he says it and the way he’s looking at you makes your heart dive. You understand what he means. You’re good at what you do, and you don’t need reassurance from anyone to recognize that. But sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Doesn’t feel like it’s real, like it’s validated.

When you landed your first big project, even before Yoongi, you were so proud of yourself. You were bursting with excitement but you weren’t happy, and you knew what the reason was. Something was missing that couldn’t be filled, not even with all your friends’ hundreds of messages of encouragement. 

It’s beyond stupid, this feeling like your wins amount to nothing at all just because of one person. You wanted him there to celebrate every achievement with you and he wasn’t, and the milestones seemed incomplete without the presence of him. It doesn’t feel like you’ve accomplished anything because this always used to be a dream you thought you’d make come true together.

“It’s lonely,” he concludes.

It sounds like he feels the same way, like he wanted you to be there too.

He suddenly holds you tighter than you think he needs to, like he’s afraid to let go of you. You imagine that he doesn’t want to let go of you, and it makes you feel better for a second. But it doesn’t change the fact that he still did in the end. And he will have to when this ends.

What was the point of this? Why did he bring this upon yourselves when he seems to be as hurt as you are? All of this time, all of these years, lost to what? You could’ve been happy together but instead, you were both lost and miserable.

When the music stops - you lost count of how many songs it’s been - you pull away from him. He looks disappointed, maybe even a little hurt for some reason.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you say, already turning away from him.

“Y/N-”

“I need some air.” Then you’re weaving through the dancing couples despite Jungkook calling your name. How did he manage it? How did he not look back when you called out for him?

You hastily grab your coat on the way out. It’s not going to keep you warm, but that’s not something you’re even remotely concerned with.

It’s everywhere, you feel it down to your bones.

The wind wraps itself tightly around you, intertwining in your hair, slipping through the cracks of your fingers, caressing your face in a chilling touch. You greet the cold like a long lost sister, shivering violently with nostalgia. It was there for you more than your own flesh and blood.

Is that why you like the sea at night? Because it reminds you of mom?

It’s dark out here, barely anything is visible except for a lighthouse sending out light in the quiet of the night. You can’t see much, but you can certainly hear it. You’re not sure if the music is coming from inside the venue, or if it’s still ringing in your ears. It’s probably the latter; you’re too far away to be able to catch the music anyway. But regardless, the tune is quickly drowned out by the sea.

The waves crash violently against the shore like it’s out for blood. There’s a magnetic pull, as if it’s calling out for you. You want to go to it, to reach out and feel the cold outside of your body for once, but you stay there despite your legs itching to stand up and run straight ahead. Into the water and down under.

You could lie down and close your eyes for a moment. The sound of the water, as sharp and brutal as it is, nurtures a part of you somehow.

You just want to be alone. You don’t want to talk to Taehyung, or Jimin, or even Yoongi.

Oh.

Yoongi.

It’s a terrible feeling, knowing that you’re going to hurt Yoongi. Knowing that you’re going to kill this even before it has a chance to truly begin.

Truth be told, you can’t envision a future with Yoongi. There isn’t anything wrong with him, because he’s not the problem here. Yoongi is fun, he’s considerate, he keeps things light on purpose for you, until you’re ready to initiate something more serious. He’s good for you, even Taehyung thinks so.

But you can’t love Yoongi, not in the way that he wants you to. Not more than you love Jungkook.

There you go. Ruining things again.

Did you ruin Jungkook? Is that what happened?

The layers on you are no match for the sea at night. The wind hisses relentlessly, biting at any part of your skin that’s exposed.

It takes you back to that night. Almost everything does, actually.

Maybe that’s why you never even stopped to consider starting anything with anyone, because it always ends. If there’s a beginning, then there will be an inevitable ending. Love isn’t made to last and you aren’t meant to carry love with you. You’ve been abandoned twice. If it happens a third time, it’s a pattern, and then your hypothesis will only be proven. That the problem here is you.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered when it’ll finally be Taehyung’s turn to leave. He eventually will, right? That one’s gonna hurt.

Then, you’re startled when someone calls your name.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks. The wind and the waves masked the sound of his footsteps walking up to you. When you turn around to face him, his eyes grow worried, almost panicked. “Why are you crying?”

You breathe out irritatedly before you hastily wipe at your cheeks. You didn’t even realize that you’d been crying. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine,” you say, though you both know it’s a lie. “I’m just tired. I’m going up to my room.”

He catches your wrist in a firm grip when you try to walk away. You wish he’d just leave you alone, but you knew he wouldn’t drop it just like that.

“I said I’m fine,” you insist.

“You were crying,” he says. “Did I do something wrong?”

He didn’t, at least not tonight.

God, you really don’t want to do this right now.

“Jungkook,” you warn. “Let go of me.”

You try to free yourself from his grip, hoping that he’ll get the hint and back off for now. Instead, he pulls you into his chest, where you struggle to escape from his hold until you realize your efforts are futile. He takes the wind’s place, wound tightly around you, so tightly that it’s nearly impossible for you to move.

You hiss out his name, but he doesn’t budge. 

“Jungkook, can you just- Fuck!”

Damn him.

You realize he’s not giving up, which in turn makes you give up struggling, hoping that if you let this be a moment, then it’ll be something that can pass.

You’re just standing there, letting him hold you, letting yourself be held by the person who broke you in the first place. This feels exactly like where you’re supposed to be - in his arms, with your face hidden in the crook of his neck, his gentle fingers stroking your hair. There’s not a lot that you could do but lean into that feeling the same way you lean into him. One foot in the sand, one foot in the past. A hand on the doorknob of time, wondering if you should look back or look forward.

You want to be alone, but that never used to apply with him.

The wind stills, the sea calms. You remain unmoving too, locked in his embrace. You feel the faint rhythm of his heart, beating faster than you think it should. If you could, you would bottle this moment up and live there forever.

I miss you, you think.

I miss you.

I miss you.

I miss you.

Then your arms are around him too. It only makes him hold you tighter, and all you can think about is how much you miss him, how painful it is to miss him, how you feel like you’re being pulled apart at the seams from the weight of missing him. 

Fuck.

Can you pretend that the last few years never happened? Is there a higher power that would allow you to go back to the night before that wretched Wednesday, when everything was still perfect? Hundreds of days of your life, can you pretend that it was just one long nightmare? When you wake up, you’ll be back in his humble apartment, tangled up together in his bed. Warm sunlight, your silken youth, and him. It was all you ever needed.

Again with the devastating familiarity. The city, the beach. His mother’s warmth that always made you reminisce about your own mother’s coldness. How Jungkook used to find you in moments like this and just stayed by your side until the dejection passed. He understood that he could never understand it the way you did.

You hear yourself sniffle, then you feel him press a kiss into your hair. Home is comforting.

Oh, you never want to leave.

You don’t want to leave, and that’s terrifying.

You allow yourself to stay there for one more second - one endless second - so you could commit to memory what it’s like to be with him. Back and forth. It’s always so easy to fall into him.

Jungkook releases you when he feels you loosen after a while, and you reluctantly meet his eyes as he tilts your head to face him.  His fingers cradling your jaw, how warm and delicate they feel on your skin.

You swallow thickly, your mind going blank. He’s the only person you see, the only one that matters. His eyes flicker south, and even then you don’t make any move to run away, despite his loose grip on your waist telling you that you can if you want to.

You told him that it would pass, and maybe for him, it will. For him, it’s the city and the moment, making him feel like he’s caught up in a page that he’s turned over a long time ago. He was fine with leaving, and he’s been fine without you. It will pass for him, as much as it hurts you to admit it.

But not for you. For you, there’s only him. There’s nobody else but him. It’s always been him, no matter how hard you try to tell yourself that there will be another person you can love as much as you love Jungkook. You might only be a page, perhaps even a chapter, in the story of his life, but he’s your entire book. He’s volume after volume after volume, until he takes up the whole shelf and leaves no room for anything else, not even for yourself.

And now here he is - at the biggest turn in your career.

He’s a bad blood cell you can’t ever get rid of.

You’ll never be able to truly let go of him. How could you? When you truly love someone, those feelings will carry on forever. They’ll always have a piece of your heart despite an ending. When you look back on a certain period in your life, you’ll think to yourself, You’ll always be a part of me. I loved you then.

But Jungkook is a force of nature. He has your whole heart.

Years and years from now, when you look back on your life, you know you’ll see him everywhere. Even when you’re old and gray, and when faces all just blur together in a mosaic of broken memories and long lost youth, you know you’ll still remember him - the person you loved, the one whom you let slip through your fingers. The great love of your life when you were young.

Sometimes, you regret that day. You can’t help feeling like it was your fault too. Maybe you should’ve tried harder to keep him. You should’ve fought harder, should’ve held onto him instead of standing there and watching him leave.

He lit the match, and you let the house burn. It takes two to tango, two to break a heart.

You’re quick to let people leave. Oh, how you wish it could be that easy to let them go too.

It isn’t until your eyes mimic the flicker of his gaze that he leans in. You meet him halfway. For the first time in years, you feel like you could breathe, truly breathe. It’s achingly slow, like neither of you can believe that this is happening. 

You sigh against his mouth when his tongue brushes your bottom lip, slips past the seal to devour you. It feels like a perfect dream. You could stay in this bubble with him forever, pretend that you’re the only two people who exist in the world and there’s nothing else, no one else, waiting for you in a city that seems so far away right now. The thought of him never left you, not even for a second. He’s always been with you everywhere you go, no matter what you do, always in the back of your mind.

He tastes like your youth, like remembrance. He kisses you like he’s still yours when deep down you know that you’re still his. The hand on your jaw is gentle but firm, and it makes you repeat a thought, I miss you.

Then a feeling, I love you.

Not then. Now.

I love you now.

I love you even when I shouldn’t. Even when it hurts. Even when you leave me. Even when you don’t love me more than I love you. If there comes a day where you love somebody else, I will still love you then. There will never be another person for me but you. My first and only love.

When he pulls away, you think it’s too quick, even though your lungs are grateful for the breath that you instantly inhale. You stare at his lips like you’re in a daze, mesmerized, wanting to chase them again. You don’t even know how you have it in yourself to utter these next words, but you hear your own voice saying them anyway.

You’re holding onto him now. Doesn’t that count?

“Let’s…” Your fingers tighten on the collar of his dress shirt. “Let’s go up to your room.”

note (2): so... what do we think?? will they?? won't they?? 😵 stay tuned for obs7.5 which will be dropping 29.09.2023! also i'm gonna pause obs muse asks for a little bit! 😬

all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted september 24, 2023]