#returnofthemaddemon

[yerrenica]

⋯ JAHA LEE x READER | go to hell (affectionately)

⬦ info; fem reader (dom), bickering, whipped jaha, the reader is stealthier than jaha could ever hope to be, they're both lowkey emotionally constipated, begging, grinding, blue balling jaha real, reject canon embrace cringe.

⬦ wc; 2.5k

Jaha Lee is an adult. He has a job, even if unconventional. He has subordinates, even if most of them are incompetent. He even pays with his own money, sometimes. And still, despite all of that, his frontal lobe seems to not have developed enough to know that killing people at 10 p.m. will make him stay up all night.

That's how he finds himself tossing and turning in his bed, burying himself deeper and deeper into his blankets, excitement buzzing in his veins making it impossible to get some needed sleep.  

Normally, Jaha is the type of person who goes down quickly and can sleep through a tornado if he wants to. That's what having too many enemies to count and spending most of your childhood years and all your adult life on the edge does to you - you learn to fall and stay asleep wherever, no matter how uncomfortable the place is because that might be the last time you get to get some rest in a long, long time.

The officer of shining light drove that point home just before Jaha fell off that forsaken cliff.

As he turns for the one-hundredth time in the past ten minutes, the sound of very light footsteps (almost as though the person did not wish for Jaha to know of their arrival) startles him, and his body immediately tenses up. Trying to get murdered from time to time is part of his job description, so it's not unusual to have people try to sneak up on him. However, he doesn't usually deal with assassins on the Black Rabbit clan's soil. The many squads patrolling the streets stop them before they have a sliver of a chance to get close to Jaha's or the Generals' quarters.

He closes his eyes and strains his ears, remaining as still as possible to hear what's going on. The walls are relatively thick, so the sound is muffled, but as soon as he hears the exasperated sigh on the other side of the door, he smiles and lets himself relax once more.

There's only one person who would be so brazen as to step foot anywhere near Jaha's quarters and then sigh with so little care and so much annoyance.

It's weird that [Y/N] is visiting at the wee hours of the night, but maybe she's forgotten something in his room or has finally decided to keep her word and murder Jaha like she has promised to do many times. Just to see what [Y/N] does when unsupervised, Jaha settles down and pretends to be fast asleep.

His bedroom door creaks open, and there's a soft sound of feet tiptoeing around the room. Jaha feels a hand pushing his fringe out of the way, and a pair of lips leaving a kiss on his forehead. It's such an innocent, tender touch, and it's so foreign that he has to bite his tongue and muster all his willpower not to make a sound that alerts [Y/N] that he's awake.

The mattress dips on the opposite side to where he's lying down, and he feels a warm weight settling against his chest. The woman settles down, lets out a contented sigh and plants a kiss on Jaha's chest, right next to where his heart is, with an easiness that seems practised like it's not the first time she's doing this.

And it's then and there when Jaha realizes that the woman's night escapades aren't uncommon and they're probably the reason why sometimes he wakes up with the familiar scent of lavender melon clinging to his skin, even though he's slept by himself (or so he thought) and with freshly washed sheets.

It didn't happen often, though, only after the nights when Jaha was too far gone, when the weight of his blade felt light, and the lives lost to it insignificant beyond measure.

It might be because Jaha is a bit enamoured with this woman, but the thought of [Y/N] sneaking into his bedroom just to sleep next to him and then leaving before sunrise just so she doesn't have to be embarrassed about it is painfully endearing.

[Y/N] mutters something in another language under her breath, and it's the first time Jaha has actively regretted not paying more attention to the foreigners who visited his inn back when he was an errand boy. Weirdly, it doesn't sound like an insult, but it also doesn't sound like the confession of undying love that Jaha would like to hear.

Well, there's only one way to find out what the woman said.

He wraps his arms around [Y/N]'s waist, and before she can react, Jaha flips them around so he's hovering on top of the woman. [Y/N] lets out a surprised yelp, and it's music to Jaha's ears.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing." [Y/N] snaps too quickly for it to be nothing. "Let me go."

"No." Jaha singsongs, and he leans down to kiss the woman, but the other turns her head at the last second. Jaha settles on kissing her cheek. "It's rude to speak a language I can't understand and then not tell me what you said."

"I said let me go, you brute." [Y/N] repeats, turning her head to glare at Jaha. There's a beat of silence, and when she sees that the taller man isn't moving, she crocks an eyebrow. "Are you deaf?"

"You can already stop pretending you don't like me, you know?"

"Who says I'm pretending?"

"It's very hard to believe you don't like me at least a little bit when you sneak into my room in the middle of the night to cuddle me." Jaha chuckles, and just to drive the point home he leans in again, this time brushing their lips together.

[Y/N] purses her lips but doesn't say anything, so he keeps going. "You have a key to my room." A pause. "And a drawer full of your clothes here. We're basically dat—"

"Okay, shut up, I get it." The woman interrupts, her voice going slightly louder to block Jaha's words. Of course, she doesn't want to hear the word dating. Of course.

Jaha decides to be the bigger person, literally and metaphorically, and rolls onto his side, dragging [Y/N] with him so they're lying down face to face. He takes a moment to properly look at the other and only then notices the dark circles under her eyes and the way that she's blinking like she's fighting to stay awake. She looks exhausted.

"Hard day?"

"Assassins have been up my ass all day." [Y/N] says, and she doesn't explain further, but Jaha doesn't need her to. He understands what it's like to have a target on one's back. "Need to shut down for a bit."

"Stop calling it shutting down; it freaks me out."

"You've been basically fucking a walking assassin magnet for the past however many months, Jaha. Too late to be freaked out now."

Jaha scrunches his nose. "However many months", he thinks.

It's been seven months since we fucked for the first time and at least four since I realized that knowing the weirdly specific way in which you like your tea in the morning and spending my days off either pestering you until you pay attention to me or thinking about you may indicate that we are a bit more than associates with benefits, but we both seem to be deathly allergic to the word lovers and to any conversation regarding feelings and it's driving me insane.

But he's not dumb (or perhaps brave) enough to say that out loud. So he tugs on [Y/N] to bring her closer and buries his face into the other's hair. "Rest."

"In peace." The woman finishes with a stern tone. "Hopefully, I never wake up."

"It's sweet that you wish to stay in my arms forever."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"I know." Jaha concedes with a tired sigh. "Go to sleep."

There's a brief moment of silence, but [Y/N] then pulls back and looks Jaha in the eye.

"You told me to sleep, so now I can't do it." She argues, and the barely-there pout on her lips makes Jaha want to kiss her more than he's wanted anything in his life.

"It's a pride thing." She helpfully explains when she sees the dumbfounded expression on Jaha's face.

"Then stop being stubborn."

"Never."

The ravenette dramatically sighs in defeat and brings a hand to massage the side of his head. "You're going to do the opposite of what I ask you to just to be difficult, correct?"

"Correct."

"So how about..." Jaha starts, and he taps a finger to his lips like he's thinking. "You don't kiss me?"

"You're fucking dumb if you think I'm going to fall for that." The woman says, and she closes her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath like she's trying really hard not to hit Jaha over the head with a blunt object. "I can't believe you managed to become a clan leader. One would imagine you need more than one brain cell to be capable enough."

"One would also imagine that you need to be taller than three inches, but here we are."

He's barely finished speaking when the woman is already barking out a reply. "I'm going to kill you while you sleep."

"I'd love to see you try." Jaha chuckles, and there's something about the fact that the woman would indeed have a chance at besting him in a fight that makes him feel giddy. "Don't do it while I'm asleep though, I want to enjoy it."

"You're a fucking weirdo."

"I'm your fucking weirdo."

[Y/N] only rolls her eyes and huffs, and Jaha takes the opportunity to shove one of his hands under the woman's shirt. He's met with warm, soft skin, and he lets his fingers travel across [Y/N]'s taut stomach until he reaches the waistband of her pants. He hooks his fingers on the fabric, silently asking for permission.

"For fuck's sake, Jaha..." The woman whispers with irritation lacing her tone, but she leans way too much into the touch for someone who's complaining about it. "You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid."

He unhooks his fingers from the fabric and lets his hand wander to grab [Y/N]'s ass. He squeezes, relishing in the way it makes the other squirm. As [Y/N] lets out a small gasp, Jaha leans in and bites her lower lip, gaining him a small whine. The ravenette almost smiles into the kiss, because [Y/N] might whine and complain, but she always responds so easily to his touch.

Without breaking the kiss, [Y/N] pushes him onto his back and climbs on Jaha's lap. She pulls back ever so slightly, and Jaha feels one of her hands grab his face. She forces his mouth open by pressing a thumb to his lower lip, and Jaha goes pliant under her touch, the only thought that runs through his head being, "Please spit in my mouth, please, please, please."

Instead, like she's reading Jaha's mind and refuses to give him what he wants, the woman takes her fingers out, leans in and shoves her tongue inside Jaha's mouth.

Jaha's mind is half-hazed as he sucks on the other's tongue like his life depends on it, and there's a buzz in his veins that has nothing to do with the copious amounts of murdering he's done that day. He holds [Y/N]'s hips in place and grinds up into her, managing to get a choked-out moan from her.

[Y/N] leans back, the moonlight coming from the window hitting her just right, and Jaha gets a view that he wants to keep in his memory forever - [Y/N]'s cheeks have a rosy flush to them, her lips are spit-slick and bitten red. The familiar sensation of wanting to wreck and be wrecked in return starts to bubble up under Jaha's skin.

Instead of taking Jaha's mouth again, [Y/N] blinks a few times and yawns, and it's a bit of a blow to Jaha's ego. The ravenette almost whines when [Y/N] leans back and props herself up on her knees, lessening the pressure from the one place where Jaha so desperately needs it. She takes both of Jaha's hands off her thighs, leaves them to rest on top of Jaha's clothed crotch, taps the back twice, like saying there you go, and clumsily climbs off of him.

Jaha's mouth falls open. "You're going to leave me like this?"

"Yes? I'm tired." The woman deadpans, and she shuffles to lie on her side, her back to Jaha. "You're a big boy, you can take care of yourself."

His dick twitches at the words big boy, and he looks down at the problem at hand. He realistically could take care of it, jerk himself off and call it a day, but what's the point if it's not her making him cum?

"You're really going to blue ball me?" He huffs as he lamely pulls on the fabric of his pants to release some of the pressure. It does nothing to help.

"You blue balled yourself."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Life doesn't make sense sometimes, Jaha." [Y/N] argues, and she dismissively waves a hand around. "Grow up."

Seeing that he's not getting any, Jaha lies back down on the pillow with a defeated sigh - it already smells like [Y/N], and that small fact shouldn't squeeze his heart the way it does. He takes a few deep breaths, letting his heartbeat go back to normal, and makes a mental note to make [Y/N] take care of all this pent-up frustration the next time he has her on his bed.

"To be honest, it's not the first time I've had to talk myself out of a boner because of you." He confesses with such nonchalance, eyes fixed on the back of [Y/N]'s head. "So I have practice."

[Y/N] turns her head, and even in the dim light, Jaha can see the furrowing of her eyebrows. He reaches a hand to smooth it out and considers it a step in the right direction when he's not pushed away or gets some of his fingers bitten off.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Well—" Jaha helpfully starts, but the woman decides she doesn't actually want to hear about all the ways Jaha's so pathetically whipped for her, and stops him. "Actually, never mind. Don't even tell me."

Jaha unceremoniously hums. "I thought you wanted to know?"

She pauses for a moment and lets out a scoff that sounds way too much like a laugh. Proudly, Jaha makes a mental note of adding "making [Y/N] laugh when she's in such a bad mood" to his list of personal accomplishments.

"Shut the fuck up and go to sleep."

Jaha knows that if he asks for a goodnight kiss, he will get either a zap or a knee to his crotch, so he takes it upon himself to reach two fingers and delicately lift [Y/N]'s chin. He leans in, taking his time to kiss the woman properly without the heat of their previous kiss. And maybe he's hallucinating, maybe he's been awake for too long, but he can feel [Y/N] melt at the touch. He pulls back with a last chaste peck and smiles at the woman in his arms.

"Goodnight, [Y/N]."

"Go to hell, Jaha."

Jaha chuckles, and just because he can get away with it, he plants a kiss on [Y/N]'s forehead. "I'll see you there."

© yeri (@yerrenica) ⬦ do not repost, copy, translate, nothing. this is just 2.5k words of them bickering and me projecting. instead of brain there is only jaha.

[yerrenica]

⋯ JAHA LEE x READER | to call a dog back home

⬦ info; pwp, the p is set up for the p?!?!, enemies to lovers speedrun, size kink, hookups, snow storms, dom/sub, associates with benefits?, fucking for warmth, petplay, vaginal sex, topping from the bottom, under-negotiated kink, voyeurism, handjobs.

⬦ wc; 6.8k

The only thing predictable about Jaha's life is its unpredictability, and it is this precise lack of predictability which has placed Jaha in this particular predicament.

Tell Mongrang to say that three times fast.

Everyone shivers as an angry gust of frigid air blows through their squad. That's something about the wind during this time of year, especially this far out, it blows right through you, cold and cruel like icy knives cutting into your very soul. Jaha had missed the snow during summer, but now he's not so sure. It's midday but the sun is already threatening to set, making it even colder. This far into the snow fields, death could come for anyone at any moment. 

Jaha had tasked himself with leading a team through the dregs of the country's badlands to retrieve something that should've never gotten this far in the first place. What sort of old coot decided to hide his most treasured sword in such a place was beyond him, and honestly, forming a grudge against him didn't seem too far-fetched at the moment.

To think that the geezer also did it while on his deathbed was absurd to Jaha. If you're going to die, then spend your last moments in comfort and warmth and save future generations the trips to icy wastelands.

But alas, what's done is done.

"Alright, it's official, we're lost," said one of their team members, Bitgaram, when they passed the fourth identical snow drift in a row, shaking snow from his hat. Fractured snowflakes collected on his hair and he futilely attempted to brush them away.

"Bitgaram, do you have anything useful to share or are you interested in losing your tongue today?" A raspy, cruel voice floated from somewhere behind Jaha and — ah, and there's the other thing. He's not the only one going after the treasure.

Usually, Jaha wouldn't mind too much (more carnage), even though he doesn't really get along with most other sword masters. But there is a particular brand of animosity between the two of them that Jaha finds a bit exciting, but also exhausting. They don't get along and neither plan to rectify that any time soon.

[Y/N] has spent their entire 3-day freezing expedition insulting him just to make sure of that fact. 

"Apologies, miss [Y/N]," Bitgaram seemed a bit nonplussed, a short stocky kind of man with a wiry moustache, he is one of [Y/N]'s because anyone under anyone else would surely piss themselves. The woman's soldiers held a healthy dose of fear for her, but throughout this outing, Jaha has come to understand that they also have a bit of a suicidal streak. You can only be threatened with bodily harm and mortal peril by your commanding officer so many times before you just stop giving a shit.

The fight itself had been pretty simple, just a group of unlucky swordsmen that'd gotten a little too cocky and refused to hand over the treasure. Jaha had retrieved the sword with some other trinkets from the big box of treasures, and [Y/N] had, well– massacred them.

She'd made quick work of the swordsmen, pushing furious waves of power through the snow.

Their own ranks were fine. Jaha's brothers had taken position above the field, hidden in the tree branches. Jaha's own skills kept him safe and all of [Y/N]'s soldiers were issued rubber soles after an unfortunate mass casualty incident.

The swordsmen, on the other hand, weren't so lucky.

Embarrassingly enough, the woman's shit personality and proclivity for violence was kind of doing it for Jaha, it always has. He supposes that this was a natural progression of his thoughts.

Earlier when they had surveyed the battlefield post-fight, the one [Y/N] had littered with mangled corpses, Jaha would be remiss if he didn't admit that it sparked something hot and heady in the pit of his stomach.

He pushes those thoughts from his mind, letting the icy wind take them away. Well, he makes his best attempt to. He's probably just getting brain damage from the cold. There cannot possibly be another reason that he doesn't want to wring her neck.

To be fair, he's always been a bit intrigued by her, sue him. She'd be right up Jaha's alley if it weren't for the fact they utterly despised each other.

Her tactics on the battlefield were impressive and her bias for extreme violence was just to Jaha's taste. She was also hot, objectively, in a purely work-appropriate observational way.

And then there was, of course, the avalanche.

"Miss [Y/N]!" Officer Occupational Hazard Bitgaram yelled as they trudged through the Northern mountains.

Everyone tensed as the woman swung around to see who exactly had sealed their fate, walking far faster than she should've been through knee-high snow before there was a deep rumbling from somewhere above.

"Take cover!" An angry avalanche set course for them.

Thick sheets of ice and snow threatened to sweep them away and consume them. The team dove to take cover behind trees, hands over their heads to make pockets in the snow in an attempt to save their lives.

Without thinking Jaha had grabbed the person closest to him and dragged them under an outcrop, watching as furious snow passed them by.

A smaller body pressed against him and Jaha subconsciously pulled them closer, burying their face in his chest. Whoever it is is freezing, all hard muscle, and smells good. A fraction of a second later, he realized that they were also tiny, and all of his hair was standing up from static electricity.

Oh shit. He tensed. He's dead.

In an attempt to pull away, his foot slid on a patch of covered ice and a twinge in his ankle made him stumble. Travelling in a group meant less time for his usual morning training. 

That was fine, Jaha thought. With a sound that felt a little too much like a yelp, he channelled his qi. Not the full thing, not all the way. It was too abrupt for him to do that. But it was enough to get blood to his muscles better.

Of course, that didn't make travelling within an avalanche any more pleasant. But at least it kept him from dying.

Ha. A mountain blizzard was a staggeringly vicious thing. He hadn't given that old coot enough credit. This was hard. But he supposes that's what the old man was striving for, to leave behind a legacy. To be remembered for generations to come.

To have been something.

It wasn't all bad, to exist for a purpose. A fixed point to move towards, the surroundings happily out of focus. Jaha had always known that. 

Or at least he did now.

"You'd have crawled into my lap back there if I'd let you, wouldn't you, Master Jaha?” The sounds of the party had been muted from wherever [Y/N] had pulled them to. Some abandoned corner of the building. It was huge, and there were a lot of those. This one had big curtains and wood that were obviously not installed with drunk sword masters in mind.

There was a hand up his shirt and one down his pants. Jaha swore. They were pressed close. Damp wood against his back. Whatever the woman was doing with her hands was making words form slowly, and even then only in fragments. 

Gods, he was sloshed. Seongtae had picked out a deadly slew of liquor for their victory lap.

"Drink a little too much?" [Y/N] asked.

Maybe. "Never."

He tried to coordinate his limbs to do something resembling reciprocity–he wanted to touch her, too–but he only ended up leaning his forehead against the other's hair. His vision swam as he watched his shirt be undone, hands tightening and loosening on black fabric. 

"You're so easy."

"Look at how simple it is to make you fall apart," [Y/N] had a giddy sort of sneer on. Jaha should say something.  

Was that true? Yeah, probably. A few drinks, a few murders. The music and food weren't half bad, and things were always so dull otherwise. Didn't he deserve this?

"Yes'ma'am," he hissed. He wasn't even sure what he'd chosen in reply, but that surprised laugh he got in response sounded mean and hot, so hot. God.

"Is this all I had to do to make you mind your manners? A drunk handjob?"

Jaha's hips jerked. Maybe. Okay, maybe.

"I prefer you like this," continued the woman, "Stay mindless next to me and maybe I'll keep you."

Jaha didn't want to be kept. That was not anything close to being in the script. This whole thing was just a stepping stone, conquer it and move on– oh, but he was close. 

Kept. His dick certainly liked how [Y/N] had phrased it. Maybe he did want that, just a little? His brain was soft and the woman was smiling up at him with eyes that promised something. Like waiting to reward him if he just–

"Uh– fuck," his brain couldn't keep up with his mouth, "Yeah. I'm, agh–"

"Good dog."

He didn't notice he had fallen asleep until something nudged him awake. It had all felt the same: when he opened his eyes he saw white and when he closed them he saw a slightly duller white. The cold was always there. But now it was different. There was someone there, too, against the bleached sky.

"No one could actually be this stupid."

Jaha saw himself move rather than felt it, but he realized dully that [Y/N]'s boot on his chest was the reason, "Get up."

"[Y/N]?" asked Jaha. It hurt to blink, so he kept his eyes shut, "Hi. What're you doing here?"

"Hi yourself," the woman frowned down at him. 

"How did you find me?" He had to be a mile or so from where he had left the others.

"The smell," she huffed, "I followed the smell of pure idiocy, and it led me here. Now get up," she repeated.

"Alright, yeah," said Jaha. It wasn't his idea to be hurled away by an avalanche and pass out, but at least it was [Y/N] who found him, and not the rest of the crew. It might be quicker this way, too.

"Did you not hear me?" came a sharp voice, "Jaha," it said sternly.

"What is it?"

"Stand up."

"...Am I not?"

He was not. It seemed he hadn't moved from the first time he had been instructed. Which was strange, because he definitely remembered doing so. But now that he was being hefted up, it struck him that this was completely different. 

Jaha looked back over his shoulder, towards the top of the mountain, "What about the others?"

"The others–?" The woman seemed to remember all at once what Jaha was talking about, "Forget about them."

"Huh– why?"

"What do you mean why? Because you're barely conscious," [Y/N] snapped, "There's a cave up ahead. I'm bringing you there."

Jaha scowled. He wanted to argue, to protest, but the words wouldn't form right through the clacking of his teeth.

The maw of the cave was sizable and opened wide onto the white. This must be why there had been a cliff in the first place. The howling immediately stopped as they crossed the threshold. Temperature-wise, there was not much of a difference. Being out of the wind, however, did go a long way. Jaha felt like the boulder resting on his lungs had been downgraded to a large rock.

"Well," began [Y/N] with a sigh. Jaha had been aware in a vague, through-water sort of way that he had graduated from leaning on the other to being dragged by her, "You've really outdone yourself this time."

He was deposited onto the floor. His vision swam between the blinks of his watery eyes. It was as he pondered the ceiling of the cave, slanted and pockmarked, that Jaha came to the conclusion that he must be lying on his back. There was a tickle in his throat that he couldn't dislodge with coughing. Thoughts came slowly. Irritability lingered.

"That's an ugly face you're pulling towards the one who just saved your life," said [Y/N] from somewhere next to him. 

The last cough left Jaha's chest like a growl. His head spun as if he were falling. Unable to get his bearings or discern where exactly [Y/N] was to glare at her, he rolled himself sideways and spoke with his cheek pressed to the pebble-laden floor.

This whole situation was too reminiscent of his past life.

"If you hadn't intervened, I would have been just fine," Jaha replied. Now that he was slowly regaining some small awareness of his body, he became aware of an acute pain in his temple. His knee was beginning to ache as well.

"Even for you, this is a new level of insanity," [Y/N] continued in a terse tone as if Jaha hadn't spoken. The ground crunched as she busied herself with something the man couldn't discern, "Be grateful that I deemed having you alive would be less work than dragging your dead body back to your subordinates."

There was a retort ready in Jaha's throat, but as footsteps approached, it became harder and harder to remember it. His field of view was overtaken by two boots, the snow on them melting. Then one disappeared from view, and there was a pressure on his chest as he was rolled over onto his back once more.

Many layers of clothes further numbed the sensations that were barely getting through to his body. Still, when [Y/N] threw a leg over him and sunk down to straddle Jaha's hips, he at least attempted to lift his head up.

There was no need. The back of his skull hit the ground immediately. His jaw was opened by one finger pressing into his canines, but then the other paused.

"You channelled your qi. Poorly, at that."

Jaha couldn't well answer with the way his mouth was being held open. 

"You did. There are burst blood vessels in your eyes," [Y/N] sneered as she used her thumb to pull down at the bottom of Jaha's eye. The man wanted to ask why it mattered. Before he could, though, something was poured into his mouth.

"Don't make a scene. Swallow it."

His mouth was held shut. Jaha breathed hard through his nose, clenched his teeth, glared fucking daggers. The woman wore an expression that suggested she might have been reading a particularly uninteresting field report. 

"Swallow," she repeated with an upward nod like it was only a matter of time before she got what she wanted. All Jaha's nerves seemed to come back online at once. He whined from behind closed lips.

It burned worse than Eastern alcohol on the way down. 

He understood then that his body had been on pause, and now everything was back online all at once. 

Feeling spread from his throat to his stomach and into his limbs. Now the threat of not freezing to death had passed, and every other pain sang to life in a horrible chorus.

He became aware that he was shivering– had he been so the entire time? Fatigue swept through him, worse than what he usually felt while training in his past life. His bones and teeth hurt. 

Jaha cursed as he sat himself up, coughing. His lungs took in stinging cold air but he couldn't even catch his breath. He watched as the woman walked back over to her knapsack and slipped a small bottle back into one of the many pockets. 

"What was that?" He wiped his chin. 

"You're overreacting. It was a warming vial."

Jaha's addled mind spun for a bit before he put meaning to the words. The little glass bottles parents gave their kids when playing in the snow. They'd place them in their pockets to keep their hands warm. He never questioned what they were filled with.

"You're not supposed to drink those, last I checked."

'Doesn't matter," [Y/N] shrugged, "You just did."

Being horizontal was suddenly very unappealing. Groaning, the man slid himself over to lean against the wall of the cave, far from the entrance. His mood was sour and just about everything that could hurt in his body did. He didn't typically mind pain much– but miscalculation stung more when he'd had to be rescued as a result.

"What about the others?" asked Jaha, dimly. 

"I told them to stay put."

"I hope we don't return to them frozen to death." He shifted his knee up and sucked in a pained breath. 

"Oh please," huffed [Y/N] at Jaha's bellyaching, "You aren't dead just yet."

The snow whirled outside without stopping. He felt almost like a stupid kid again. Playing out in the snow too long, getting scolded by his grandfather. The neighbourhood kids that'd stuff rocks into snowballs. Those bruises always took forever to stop aching.

Jaha watched in silence as [Y/N] built up a small fire. She took materials from the knapsack by the wall. It was one of the ones their crew had packed before setting out; she must have grabbed it before she came to find Jaha. 

"How do you even know about this place?" The man squinted, rubbing at his ribs.

"It might be your first time out here, but it isn't mine," replied the woman easily.

The fire, now lit, drew him in. Jaha shifted closer to be nearer, ignoring the way [Y/N] stopped to scoff. Even the sound of the wood popping under the heat felt good.

From a rock near the entrance, [Y/N] looked out at the storm, "We'll stay to wait out the worst of this. I doubt it'll last longer than the night," she paused for a moment, "And Master Jaha..."

Jaha groaned in acknowledgement. His eyes were closing.

"The next time you decide to face a natural disaster, be honest about your limits," her voice seemingly softened, but Jaha brushed it off as just him being tired and hearing things.

"I won't know them until I find them," mumbled the man, "And like you said, I'm not dead just yet."

"We don't happen to have some chicken noodle soup stuffed in that pack, do we?" groaned Jaha haplessly. Sometime between falling asleep and the sun setting, lying down had become appealing again. Sometime between lying down becoming appealing again and now, a ratty blanket had been placed underneath him.

"I've got another warming vial if you'd like," said [Y/N]. 

Jaha pursed his lips, sulking.

"Then stop complaining."

[Y/N] was still sitting where she had been when Jaha slipped out of consciousness, the only difference being now she was whittling something. Her hands moved slowly, but the tiny pile of wood shavings next to her suggested she'd been at it for some time. It was too small for Jaha to see from where he lay.

Next to him, the fire was still going, but growing weak. It left a stark desire for warmth in its embers. The woman had already informed him that there had only been enough materials for one in the pack. Once this was gone, he'd go back to devoting half of his thoughts to craving any sort of warmth.

"So you've been to this place before?" Jaha asked. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "Did you mean the village near this place?"

[Y/N] hummed, along with a sigh, "Yes. It was part of my training growing up."

Training all the way out here while growing up? Suddenly, her attitude made sense to Jaha. After all, these mountains served as a place for outcasts to gather.

"This is the middle of nowhere," Jaha paused, "Do they have running water?

"I would hope so. There may be some rejects who forgo hygiene but I'd like to believe most are in the habit of bathing."

"A hot bath sounds good. Do you like baths?"

"Occasionally. Not for such juvenile purposes as relying on it to warm myself," she eyed Jaha in mock ridicule.

"Well, once we make it there, we can share one."

The small sound of scraping wood and the ever-present wind was all that could be heard for some time.

"You really don't feel cold?" Jaha said after a moment, turning his head slightly, "Not at all?"

"No," said [Y/N] to the blizzard, "Not at all."

The man blinked. The whirl behind [Y/N]'s silhouette seemed as if they were going to catch on her figure and swallow her. Like between this fluttering closure of his eyelids and the next, Jaha would find himself alone. He wondered why she had come. Responsibility as a teammate was the most sensible answer. But the martial masters didn't really rely on such routine ways of thinking. So why not just leave him to die in the snow? 

Nothing [Y/N] did was without some sort of contradiction, Jaha had realized.

"I don't believe you."

At this, the woman turned. They held each other's gaze for a moment. Jaha's chest panged with how much he wished her closer. If the situation were different, he'd say some nonsense and suggest so. That worked about half the time if his math was correct.

[Y/N] did make to move, though not towards Jaha. She placed down what she had in her hands and stood, slowly. 

"My subordinates would hardly hold me in their high graces if something like the cold could deter me from my goals."

Jaha wondered, was that a jab at him?

She worked at the neckline of her cloak for a moment. Jaha didn't understand what she was attempting to do until suddenly her cloak dropped to the ground and she stood in clothes unsuited for the temperature.

Jaha's heart jogged in his chest as if on instinct. His head still pounded, but he knew how it felt to touch that body and his palms itched. 

"What're you…"

"You're cold, aren't you?" She asked as she bent over to pull off her boots, "The fire's almost died out, after all."

Jaha kept quiet, tracing her movements with his eyes.

His mannerisms made her scoff, "Stop gawking. As if this is something I haven't shown you before."

As if there were anywhere else to look.

Thumbs hooked over the waistband, pulling her pants off. She pushed both it and her underwear down in one motion, before tossing them to the side carelessly. Then she stood there, watching Jaha watch her. All of her. Every piece. There was a mild amusement in her eyes.

Jaha stared directly at that form, but it was like trying to focus on an aftereffect. Everything was reflected through that hue. The hair that ghosted the base of her neck, the dip of her shoulders, her breasts, her tummy, the ever so slight flare of hips, the curve of the back of her legs. 

It was true, Jaha had seen her body before. But had always been denied the opportunity to take it in. Always so rough and fast and hard. Frantic. Now, there was quiet. Not calm, but something like a perversion of it. And [Y/N] looked, against the cragged rockface really, truly, exactly like a deity.

"Something you want to say?" [Y/N]'s eyes stayed locked onto Jaha's. At that, he couldn't hold it, and looked away, earning an amused scoff.

"You're a real petty piece of work, you know?" Jaha said tersely, mostly to distract himself from how he could feel his dick stirring. Even looking away, the thoughts flowed into his brain like sewage.

"Hmm?" Her lips quirked up into something that resembled a smirk, "Here I was hoping you'd be grateful."

Jaha scoffed quietly, observing as she approached him.

"I wonder," said Jaha. [Y/N] was kneeling in front of him before moving to straddle him, looking vaguely interested, but not really, "Will the others really be alright?"

"They'll figure something out," [Y/N] replied, "They can huddle for warmth if anything."

Warmth. Pressed up against a solid, beating thing. Images had washed over his mind in that instant. The woman was like a conduit for heat. It always began cold whenever they slept together and slid into something warmer.

He must have been staring because [Y/N] had a strange expression on her face.

"What?" asked she.

"No, it's nothing."

There was a slight pressure on his cheek. He felt soft, malleable. He realized [Y/N] had his face cupped in one hand, "Not getting ideas, are we, Master Jaha?"

He had been until this touch had stopped everything short.

"Not at all."

"Don't lie to me."

The promise of being done with this terrible feeling, even for a moment, was too strong. He knew he was going to lose this fight. 

"[Y/N]," he began. The only thing he could hear was his own harsh breathing.

"What?"

There had been words he wanted to say. Something to articulate. But all that he managed was, "M'cold."

"I know," there was a small pleasure in it, "That's why I'm here."

Jaha's eyes looked her up and down.

"What do you need?"

He felt like he was stuck underneath a frozen lake. Losing without putting up a fight. She wouldn't tell anyone, would she? 

"You."

The hand holding Jaha's face dropped away, "But I can't keep you warm for long." 

He understood what was going on. That he was being baited. But if he did as he was told and laid a hand on the bare body before him now…

…he could slip his hands to lay on either side of [Y/N]'s neck. He might slide them lower then, down her shoulders, to her elbows. Press at her ribcage, and move back up. Jaha may squeeze at that chest.

And yet...

[Y/N] raised her eyebrows. A small tilt of her head, "No? You're getting cold feet now?"

"I can't tell if this is what you want," Jaha managed to reply, his mouth fuzzy, “My head… kind of hurts."

"Then you don't have to think. Isn't that what you've always done, anyway?"

Heedless instances and red flashes and split-second decisions. Impulse and action were what made him up. Yeah, it was what he had always done. 

"Go on. Lead with your hands," said she, "Lean towards what you think will warm you up."

Jaha reached out. It felt like it took years for the gap between their bodies to end in a small point of contact. Just the flat of Jaha's hand on the base of [Y/N]'s neck. Thumb at the corner of her jaw. 

As if it were the easiest thing in the world, the woman shifted in Jaha's lap. So little work for so much reward. The pressure of her body was proof that sensations other than cold existed. Bare legs on either side of his hips, [Y/N] sat for a spell, watching. That hand was still resting on his neck. She narrowed her eyes and nudged it.

"Is this all you want to touch, Master Jaha?"

His cheeks burned, though he didn't know why. They'd done this before, and every time Jaha was always overeager. 

"I've already given you permission," said [Y/N] complacently, "Do whatever you want to me," She grabbed Jaha's hand and brought it to squeeze her breast, "After all, you're a stupid dog. You can't help yourself."

His dick jumped. More bait, he thought dully, but pride was much harder to touch than [Y/N]'s skin. And shame couldn't be all that bad if it set his nerves alight like this. Jaha kissed the last bit of his senses away. 

It wasn't all that difficult afterwards to pull her closer. He panted against that tongue and whimpered at the bites on his lips. Hands rested on his shoulders, bunching in the fur of his collar. With nothing of his own to hang on to, Jaha held tight to the skin on the back of [Y/N]'s upper arm, the base of her spine, her hips. His hands felt clumsy, without purchase.

"Tell me what you're thinking."

[Y/N]'s hand in his hair tightened into a fist and settled Jaha's head back against the wall. He was trying to breathe through his nose so that the air wouldn't feel as cold.

"I– I–" Fuck. His mind was slipping into those soft, easy places. He wanted the simple shame badly. Sit. Stay. Roll over. 

"I need you to tell me I'm a good boy."

It should be something admitted through clenched teeth, a bitten-off confession wrenched from him by force. But Jaha knew how good it could feel, and he also knew [Y/N]'s bored eyes would grow that much sharper at how ineptly it tumbled from his tongue.

Fingers were at his neck. They rested just below his jawline and sprouted a fire there, like everywhere else that [Y/N] touched. Those hands weren't hot, or even warm, so there must really be something wrong with Jaha's head. A thumb trailed up to press into the hollow beneath his bottom lip while the other fingers curled beneath his chin. Jaha's mouth hung open in small breaths.

"And are you?"

"Yeah."

[Y/N] cupped him through his pants, "You are? You're not a mutt with nothing in his brain but when he can next get his dick wet?" 

He winced but managed to hold their eye contact. He wanted to earn this, "No— I'll be your good boy. Really good for you. Please."

"Haha," [Y/N] sat back, "Haha! Is there anything you won't do? Would you splay your stomach for me?"

Jaha nodded until he was sure he'd pulled something in his neck. 

"Show me just how good you can be," breathed the woman. She released her hold on Jaha and sat back, "Get yourself off."

If there was still such a thing as shame in this little world they'd trapped themselves in, then maybe Jaha would have hesitated before fumbling out of his pants. 

[Y/N] seemed to remember something, and only deigned to move from her position in the man's lap to root through the knapsack again. She threw a small vial at Jaha before sitting right back down.

Regular oil. [Y/N] had used it to wet the tinder for the fire earlier. 

He unfastened his pants and slid them down his thighs just enough to free his dick. He then tipped the oil into his palm and started to stroke himself.

It hurt, his hands shook, but the friction felt good. The impulse to shutter his eyes nearly won out–but he wanted to be seen. To perform well and do as he was told bore the risk of reward. If the woman was feeling generous. 

There was a chance Jaha would be delegated to finishing in his own hand with nothing so much as another touch from [Y/N]. Just a bored look and a mildly amused, pitying expression; Jaha had seen it before. It didn't matter, not really. There was heat in being the subject of such strict attention.

"Is this how you treat yourself when you think of me?"

"Yes," Jaha was distantly surprised at how desperate his voice sounded. 

"Go on, keep talking. You wouldn't want me to lose interest."

"I think of our fights, the way you hit me."

"A dog who likes being disciplined."

"It's so hard to find someone who's able to keep up," Jaha twisted his wrist. He swore he saw real contempt pass over [Y/N]'s features, "You fight me like you really– hah –want to kill me.

"But I also," Jaha swallowed, "I really like when I can throw you off balance. And you give me that look like you're impressed with me."

"How honest."

"Ha… a nice break from all the treachery at Gangho, right?"

"Yes, but a mind as empty as yours can't contain shame. A mindless, pretty, obedient boy."

Jaha's hand stuttered for a moment on the upstroke. He pressed a thumb into the head of his cock to keep from coming right then.

"Maybe I'll reward you," the woman hummed for a moment. Her eyes raked over Jaha's body. He was the one with all his clothes on, but he felt seen through. 

His wrist was swatted away as the woman took Jaha's cock into her own hand. And unlike Jaha, she set a much faster pace. 

He didn't know how often they'd fucked. There were too many instances of a fight becoming something more, or an ill-advised dare between them, to count it properly. Still, they hadn't been at this all that long. And yet [Y/N] knew exactly what touches shook Jaha out of his mind with pleasure. His brain went white like the storm outside.

"Stay," instructed she. Jaha's hands bunched in the blanket underneath him. 

He had to be good. He had to be good because if he wasn't, then [Y/N] would stop, leave him here. No use for a defunct weapon, a disobedient dog. He felt like he could cry. The brief brush of a nail against the underside of his cock, the way the heel of the woman's hand pressed into the head.

"God, [Y/N], Please, please, please–"

The touch vanished. Jaha buckled forward with a strangled sound. His hands flew to [Y/N]'s shoulders, his head rested against her neck. His shaking arms wrapped around her. His chest heaved. 

"You can show discipline when you want to," a pitying hand carded through the hair at the nape of his neck, "Or is it only just for me?"

Yes, for you. Jaha wanted to say. No one else has ever been able to do this to me. I'm stuck with you.

"Please," Jaha swallowed, "Please."

"I don't know what you're begging for," said [Y/N], nonchalantly, "Tell me what you want, dog."

"I want to be inside you. Where it's warm."

"I've already given you my whole body. You still want more?"

He didn't know how he'd ever stop wanting more.

"Yes."

"Hm. And you'll be good?"

"Yeah. Promise."

[Y/N] pushed him back. With efficiency, she splayed herself out on the blanket, leaving Jaha to do his best to situate himself. The woman waited as Jaha stumbled out of his pants. Then he shifted until he was on top of her. His cloak covered most of their bodies. It gave the whole thing a bit of modesty, and even though there was no one but them, Jaha didn't want anyone to see how she let herself be touched by him.

He brought a shaking hand down [Y/N]'s stomach, down to between her legs. 

"You're wet," Jaha realized happily. 

"Yeah," [Y/N]'s eyes lidded, "And I can see your tail wagging."

Jaha had wanted to be asked, to be guided through, but he didn't need to be asked twice. He lifted up [Y/N]'s hips to position himself. He spread her legs apart, and the woman just allowed him to, limp and expectant. Jaha let one leg rest just over his shoulder. 

And then he couldn't wait anymore. He pushed himself inside with a sigh. Perfect and tight and warm. 

"Not just anyone would do this for you, you know," said [Y/N] from under him. 

"I know," Jaha nodded as he began to move. Nothing, not the fire, or the draught or anything had felt as good as this. 

He dipped his head and kissed the woman's neck. As he sped up it became sloppier until he was panting open-mouthed against the skin. There was so much sensation after hours of nothing. [Y/N] safe underneath him and Jaha safe in her hands. Everything else seemed small in the light of these facts. Being of service. Doing what he was told.

"How does it feel?" asked [Y/N]. As tight as Jaha was holding her, she didn't cling back. It wasn't uncommon to spot this detached look in her eyes, though Jaha never knew exactly what to do with it. 

He settled for being earnest. It pushed its way past what little else was in his mind, "So good, thank you–"

There was a pressure building near the base of his spine, his stomach. Jaha was well aware he was close. But if he finished now, then she would move away again. He'd be without anything to grasp. And then what? Worse, getting himself off first felt selfish. He should take care of [Y/N] first, shouldn't he?

It must have shown on his face because [Y/N] spoke. 

"Slow down."

Jaha whined. He wanted to. Only it was impossible, it had to be. But that's what he'd been told. Commanded. Somehow, his hips slowed and stopped. 

A hand came to rest at his jaw. [Y/N] looked so composed, and Jaha felt ruined. But the woman's eyes were so pretty. They narrowed in a small laugh. 

"Good boy, Jaha."

His heart skipped. His hips moved on their own. 

"Sorry–"

"Oh, you do like it. No one calls you that anymore, do they?" He was being teased, but there seemed to be something more behind the words. Like she was happy to have this knowledge. And Jaha knew, somehow, that she'd hold it safe. 

"Do you miss it?" A thumb over his cheek, "Does it make you feel whole again?"

"Yes," Everything felt raw and real. His heart was flayed and pumping hot blood. He wanted to move, needed to move.

[Y/N] did so first. She rolled her hips down and before long Jaha was meeting her. They found a rhythm easier than usual. The usual was claws and teeth and grasping onto whatever they could. Here, Jaha had given up the reins. Heat swelled up between them. 

It was so soft and so warm. Jaha drove himself over and over and over into that heat, watching the way the skin of the woman's stomach buckled and moved.

He looked up, perhaps meaning to say something, but was distracted by the look he found on [Y/N]'s face. How empty it appeared at that moment. Their eyes met, but the woman only blinked.

Jaha wanted to bury himself inside. Would that draw out a reaction? Not just fucking, or fighting, but to live underneath that skin. There, he'd never be cold again, he was sure. How could he be, with someone to guide him from the storm?

Small hands went to grab the back of Jaha's arm, and that was all the warning he received before [Y/N] tightened around him. The minute movements in her expression, the clenching of her jaw, the too-fast blink of her eyelids. Jaha watched it all. The woman looked, for the first time since she had stripped herself, vulnerable. 

He should stop. Jaha knew well how [Y/N] must feel right now, oversensitive and spent. But there it was; the urge to gorge himself on it. [Y/N]'s ankle behind his back pulled him closer. If he didn't stop at this moment, he knew he was not going to be able to. 

"I–"

"Go on."

He thought he heard a sob, and then realized it must have been his own voice. A shudder wracked his body as he came–but shuddering from something other than cold felt so good. 

It hurt dully when he collapsed to the side. The blanket really was not very thick at all. As if on impulse, he gathered her up in his arms and pressed her bare body close. Jaha worried for a moment that it was going to earn him a smack, but it was only the cloak being pulled over both of them. The sounds of the blizzard filtered back to the forefront. Then there was oblivion inside, as there was outside.

The other team members were fine, only nearly cried when they saw the two of them return safe and sound. Whatever paperwork it would have been for [Y/N] if a few of them died under her watch, it would've probably been leagues worse if she and Jaha had died instead.

The village, when they finally reached it, was more elaborate than Jaha had expected. They had only lost half a day to travel, and with a clear weather report for the next few days, they should be able to make it on time.

That night, Jaha knocked on the door to [Y/N]'s suite. A maid opened it. Her forearms were damp and she had a wood bucket in her hand. She dismissed herself with a bow.

"So," Jaha said, taking a seat on the bed, "About that bath offer."

[Y/N] didn't look up. She was in front of the bathroom sink, undressing. Jaha walked up behind her and untucked her shirt. 

"It was you who offered if I recall correctly," [Y/N] said to the mirror.

"Yeah, but your bathroom's bigger. Perks of being a little more renowned than me."

"A little?"

The shirt fell to the tiled floor. [Y/N] turned to face him. Around her neck, she wore a necklace.

"Is this new?" He touched it with one hand, "I've never seen you wear it before."

It was long and wooden. He could see the lines of precise carvings on it. 

"Yeah," [Y/N] brought it to her lips, "Want to hear it?"

The sound was faint, high-pitched. It was made to echo off trees and call well-trained pups back home.

A dog whistle.

© yeri (@yerrenica) ⬦ do not repost, copy, translate, nothing. huhu, I've been gone for too long again, my baadd..... I have to posture here, though, that you can use oil (olive/canola/etc) as a way to wet tinder for fire. and if you didn't know, olive oil was historically used as lube. It's important to me to tell you that I didn't bs that.

[yerrenica]

⋯ JAHA LEE x READER | battle amid tangled sheets

⬦ info; written for valentine's day! first time, first kiss, loss of virginity, dares, switch Jaha, Jaha losercore, New Year's inspired because I missed New Year's, slight wounding/blood, oral sex, praise kink, gentle sex (with a touch of roughness)

⬦ wc; 6.7k

Mongrang dared him to do it; that's what Jaha reminds himself. Because that's the only reason he's currently wandering the streets of White Eagle Town like a lost kitten during the Qixi festival.

Now what he'd rather be doing is finding a bottle of something strong to spend his night commiserating with. In fact, there's a handle of Dukang wine back in his room with his name on it, which he is, unfortunately, going to have to forgo, but such is the life of a guy who never backs down from a challenge.

It's not like he's actually going to be able to pull this off, Mongrang's probably just looking for an excuse to embarrass him.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, he's sure the bastard's looking for an excuse to embarrass him, publicly at that because it just so happens that tonight the Jade Flower Palace planned an absolutely grandiose banquet for everyone present. Coincidence? He thinks not.

"Hey, country bumpkin," two hours prior at the banquet table, Mongrang whispers sweet venom into his ear.

His breath smells like dark red wine and rosemary, and his speech is already slurring. Jaha sips his own wine and tries his best to stay cordial. It'd be a shame if he gave into his urge to claw the other's eyes out this early in the night.

"I have a proposition for you," which is an absolutely foul way to phrase things and he knows it.

"Careful, fucker," Jaha smiles; shows teeth, "I haven't forgiven you from the last banquet for switching my wine with tomato juice," he's certain it was him, not because none of the others present would have the gall, but because nobody else chooses to spend their free time tormenting him except the Sex Demon himself.

Furthermore, there is really no reason for them to be sitting next to each other. Most of the time everyone was seated by who was closer to whom, but Geomma was absent, and the Generals were all too social to simply stick to Jaha. So by a horrible series of events, he's doomed to sitting next to Mongrang.

There is one other person who could've been quite tolerable to sit with, but they seem to be absent as well.

"Oh don't be like that, street urchin. I can see you're dying of boredom," he conjures a tiny snowflake on the tip of his finger and twirls it; six fractal arms twinkling in the candlelight. Jaha is, in fact, dying of boredom, but that doesn't mean he's going to give Mongrang the satisfaction of participating in one of his schemes.

"I am too, you know."

With a deadpan expression, Jaha reaches for his wine glass to toss it onto his problem to the right, but Mongrang quickly interjects.

"At least let me finish," the brunette hisses, with the nerve to look offended, "I suggest we wager a little bet, just you and me," he smiles, sickly sweet. Jaha finds it disgusting.

A bet. Jaha doesn't like the sound of that. He doesn't like the sound of that at all. People like Mongrang don't initiate bets, not without being certain that they'll win.

But here's the catch: Jaha is never one to turn down a bet. Mongrang knows this; everyone knows this, and they use it to their advantage all of the time. Sigh. He really needs to work on his self-control. He'll take that to his self-assigned therapist (Moyong didn't have a choice) the next time he sees him.

"What did you have in mind?" He signs his deal with the Devil.

Mongrang leans in close, letting him feel the ghost of his breath on his neck, "last one to get laid tonight loses."

Jaha chokes on his wine. The back of his neck goes bright red as he coughs and sputters, bringing his forearm to his lips, "are you out of your mind, you stupid fu—"

Jaha cuts himself off when he sees Mongrang's self-satisfied expression, and quickly composes himself. It's not often that someone catches him off-gaurd like this. Seems like the Sex Demon is more dangerous than Jaha had initially deemed.

"Why would I ever agree to that?" Jaha furrows his brows in both confusion and disbelief.

"What? Don't you think you can do it?" Mongrang puts on a shit-eating grin, and there it is; the challenge. He's got him and he knows it.

Jaha scoffs, "I never said that"

"Great! It's a deal then," Mongrang crushes the snowflake and pushes his chair back loudly, before striding away from the table, on a mission.

"Pleasure doing business with you, country bumpkin!" He calls over his shoulder. Jaha mentally puts his head in his hands, wondering what in the world he'd just agreed to.

Jaha surveys the party as crystalline snowflakes fall from the sky. The Palace really was incredible, anything they dreamed of, they could make. With the help of Mongrang, they conjured flurries at will, and they always do for such events. The Jade Palace is their own personal snow globe.

And although any other day Jaha might have begrudgingly admitted that the icy ornaments Mongrang so effortlessly made weren't unsightly, today they felt like relentless blows in his face, thus he wished for nothing more than to melt them away.

But Mongrang himself wasn't around, so there was no point in doing that. Another time, Jaha thinks.

The courtyard was still alive with drinking, dancing, and other revelry. In the centre, a massive fir tree stands sentinel, still wrapped in glowing midwinter lights.

Dedicating an entire day to celebrating love had always seemed strange to Jaha. To him, it was almost childish to view the dynamic nature of love as something to be in awe of, rather than a simple fact of life. He supposes though, in theory, love wasn't a given, because in this world nothing is guaranteed. Quickly, though, he pushes that thought from his mind– he doesn't need to be a killjoy tonight. It certainly won't help him in winning this bet.

Now he'd take this to his grave, but he's decidedly inexperienced in this area – sex that is. He's not even sure how to go about winning this bet. He considers just paying a working girl, but he'd never live that down. That would go against all his morals.

He could pick someone up at a bar? Not a chance, too far away and too difficult (for him only, it seems). How about one of his subordinates? No, there's some kind of power dynamic there that he doesn't really want to get into. He rubs at his temples and groans. Mongrang is going to win this, and Jaha's going to be subjected to whatever horrible torment he has in mind for the loser of the bet.

Jaha's own fault, he supposes, for accepting such a bet from the Sex Demon himself.

He exits the courtyard to return to the sheltered walls of the palace, his feet feel sluggish after the realization that his inevitable loss is inching closer by the second.

"Still moping about, little rabbit?" Jaha freezes at the familiarity of the voice and turns to face whoever has just done an excellent job of sneaking up on him. He lays eyes on the one person who could've saved him from this damned bet by simply sitting beside him in place of Mongrang.

Of course, of all the martial masters he knows, she's one of the quietest when she's not running her mouth. Jaha would liken her to a docile cat if he knew no better. The woman is tipsy and has a fifth of wine in her hand. 

Jaha's guard immediately flies up, because the woman never starts a conversation with him unless she's done something that needs cleaning up. Jaha's pretty sure she's been sent personally by the Devil himself to ensure that he never gets rest, the others are no exception either, of course. Call him paranoid, but—

"Relax," [Y/N] chuckles, holding her hands up in a placating gesture. "I'm not here to get us into any trouble," her eyes shine with barely repressed laughter. The liquor in the bottle sloshes around and Jaha can't help but look at it longingly. 

"So how come you've decided to get out of your hiding place?" The ravenette raises an eyebrow, perturbed. He can feel a grudge forming.

"I asked you a question," the woman almost pouts, slurring her speech a bit. She steps closer and Jaha backs up because out of all of his associates, [Y/N] is the only one who truly scares him.

She's like a walking tornado of chaos, with a knack for stirring up trouble, and oh, Jaha doesn't even wish to think about it. Take, for instance, the time she casually turned half of the Black Rabbit sect's quarters into a blazing inferno - not once, but multiple times. And let's not forget the time she inadvertently invited a horde of spiders into the sect by forgetting to stash away some herbs she was carrying around before leaving. The entire sect spent weeks squashing them out. Jaha still shudders at the memory of finding those eight-legged invaders in his every meal.

And believe him, that's just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to her repertoire. Truly a terrifying woman to be around.

It makes Jaha want to fight her, but it'd be bad form to initiate a spar at a banquet, especially with someone from his own sect.

"I asked if you're still moping about," she continues, "It's been hours since dinner."

"So what?" Jaha glares at her, though it's more like he's sulking, hoping to be left alone in his misery.

"No offence, but you look pathetic, great brother."

"Spit it out, woman," Jaha is losing his patience, because of course the other is here to bother him. He tolerates her, but he thinks he might actually dislike drunk [Y/N].

At this moment in time, at least. Normally, she's quite... fun to be around. He'd never admit that out loud, though. The last thing he wants is to encourage her obnoxiousness.

"Well I was going to offer you a drink, but I can see that I'm not wanted here," the smaller one hums, feigning insult. She stretches big, making sure Jaha can see the completely full bottle of Dukang wine glint in the moonlight.

Now, if Jaha didn't know any better, he'd think the offer was genuine. However, she is definitely up to something. This is [Y/N] after all. She's always doing something for her own personal amusement. Jaha isn't particularly interested in falling for another scheme tonight, but the Dukang wine is a tantalizing offer. Once again his eyes are drawn to the bottle of sweet salvation. A little liquid courage could be all he needs.

And [Y/N], like the cheeky loafer she is, turns to walk away, robes swaying behind her loftily. Jaha thinks on her words. How bad can one drink really be?

"Wait."

Okay so he has a bit more than one drink.

The riverside is perfectly secluded at this hour. They settle on a small bench underneath a high arched alcove. The moonlight was shimmering down upon them.

[Y/N] inaugurates the bottle with a deep swig, tears pricking at her eyes at the burn, because honestly, Dukang wine is borderline undrinkable without a chaser to most people.

"Having some trouble?" Jaha chuckles and reaches for the bottle. He feels a bit fuzzy, which is strange because he's not drunk yet, nor is he ever. Well at least he thinks he isn't.

"Piss off," the woman slurs, but there's a bit of a laugh in it. It sparks something strange in Jaha's chest, something he quickly pushes down because fuck him if he's doing that right now.

Jaha purses his lips awkwardly, before opening them, "So, how was your day?" He makes an attempt to start a cordial conversation.

"Are you really trying to make small talk with me right now?" [Y/N] quirks an eyebrow, and for some reason Jaha's attention is drawn to it. He trails the lines of the woman's face from her soft cheekbones down to her plush lips.

Despite his best efforts, his mind strays to the dare and all of a sudden his ears are burning. [Y/N] might not be a bad choice. Well, she's actually a horrible choice. She'd probably be just as unruly in bed if not more... not that Jaha would mind. Honestly, the man doesn't even know if he's interested in things like that, or if she is interested in any of that, for that matter.

But Jaha is quickly running out of options, and he hates to admit it, but there's something about the other that's kind of doing it for him right now, which rarely happens nowadays. Back when he was the mad demon, it only happened perhaps once or twice when he was young. He takes another pull of the wine, lets it trickle down his throat and warm his stomach.

"Great brother, don't tell me you're drunk already."

"What? Why would you say that?" Jaha scoffs out a laugh, snapped out of his thoughts.

"Your ears, they're flushed," the woman slurs her observation, "I've never them like that before."

Oh. He's been caught. But Jaha really can't help himself, ever since the dare wormed its way into his mind, he's having a hard time looking away from his associate. The woman is objectively beautiful. The men under Jaha's wing tend to fall over themselves for her attention until they realize she's an insufferable incendiary, but even then, they hold out hope for a chance.

"Well—" Jaha starts.

"Pass it," she flexes her fingers and the man's eyes are suddenly drawn to her hands. Every single motion the woman makes is enticing right now. What the actual fuck is going on? Jaha feels like he's a teenager again, but what shit timing.

Okay, he can admit that he has a little crush, has had a little crush since the moment he'd seen the woman for the first time. In all her obnoxiousness she had come into Black Rabbit's quarters out of nowhere, blood-stained and smelling something awful. She strode into one of the sect's meetings like she owned the place and presented the head of a man Jaha had been searching for, kicking it across the floor, before bowing with a flourish, all toothy.

She was full of character from the get go. Ever since that... brazen display of randomness, she ended up revealing her connection to Nachal Dae, and said that she had hunted the man Jaha had been after as a thanks for liberating her friends, the Generals.

Henceforth, she could be found lounging about at the quarters, and soon enough everyone simply got used to her presence.

...

They get drunk. Not terribly so. Jaha still knows up from down and all that. Nothing to write home about. He feels mostly fine. But there's a comfortable warmth in his stomach and a nice buzz that's settled over his mind.

Moonlight seeps into the alcove, illuminating the vast star-speckled sky. Usually, it would draw Jaha's attention, when he was younger, he used to trace the stars with his eyes every night so he could imagine a future for himself among them. But not tonight, tonight he is captivated by someone that, martial arts be damned, burns just as bright.

[Y/N] takes another drink, and Jaha watches her throat work through it, and he can't - for the life of him - fathom why. He wants to attribute it to the glasses of red wine he drank at dinner, but that'd be doing himself a disservice because he knows he can drink most grown men under the table. No, there's something else brewing in his chest, a terrifying, molten feeling that makes the woman impossible to look away from.

In all honesty, [Y/N] is not bad in terms of drinking partners. She's quiet, yes, but that's a given with her mostly introverted personality. She's also nice to look at. Really nice to look at, for a matter of fact.

"I don't get know why the Mong family insists on these things," she gazes down at the courtyard below. Faceless figures in extravagant robes and masks intermingle, becoming one fuzzy blur of humanity.

"Don't you see it's all part of their grand plan to make us miserable?" Jaha grins at her and drinks from the bottle again. 

"Is that all there is, though? Misery?" She reaches for the fifth, and Jaha pulls it away.

"I think you've had enough," he laughs and takes another swig for himself.

"Never thought I'd see the day the Great Jaha would get introspective on me," her face is a little flushed, and it must be from the alcohol, has to be from the alcohol.

"'The Great Jaha'," Jaha repeats, a small smirk playing on his lips.

[Y/N] lets out a snort, "That was an insult."

"It's hardly an insult to know what you think of me," the moonlight flits across the woman's face, and Jaha wants.

"It'd be only fair to hear your thoughts too, then."

Jaha feigns studying her for a moment, "Tacky."

"Oh, but you love it," she shamelessly scoots closer.

"I find everything you say tactless and asinine."

"But you're here with me."

Jaha sighs, "Indeed I am," they settle into a comfortable silence, passing the bottle back and forth, though Jaha can't resist muttering under his breath, "for the wine."

The woman keeps her knowing smile.

Another moment of silence passes between them.

"You know, you're not half bad when you want to be," [Y/N] breaks it.

Jaha hums, speaking with humour, "And you're twice as bad no matter how hard you try."

The woman laughs, "I take it back."

She then scooches, just a little bit, closer to the man, who makes no move to draw away, "It's still your turn to say something truly introspective," she whispers.

"Now I'm sure you've had enough," Jaha snatches the bottle from her and finishes it, letting the last of the liquid-fire drip down his throat.

"Aw, but why? Must I always carry the conversations?" She lets out a sound akin to a whine. 

"I like listening to you talk," there it is, an embarrassing thing that Jaha's been holding in all night. He's got more embarrassing things to say, but he stops himself.

"Cute," the woman says with that deadpan sarcasm that never lets Jaha know what she's thinking. He's sure [Y/N] meant it as an insult, but his heart leaps anyway, hopes he didn't.

A moment of silence.

"You're pretty when you do," Jaha leans in just a fraction, and the others' eyes widen.

The clock strikes midnight. Chime 

There is liquor on their lips but not enough for this. Not enough at all for this. If nothing else, maybe he can allow this lapse in judgment, maybe he can allow this fall. Jaha closes the gap between them, kissing her softly. Time dilates.

Chime

[Y/N] tastes like wine, tea, and starlight. Sweet curiosity turns to burning intensity as they both seek to consume each other. And Jaha finds that there is joyous rapture in the agony of what it is to feel connected to another.

Chime

The kiss is a clumsy affair, mostly Jaha's doing, but it's good, more than good, and Jaha wants to devour it. Faintly, it occurs to the man that this is his first kiss, and he is all of a sudden overwhelmed beyond belief. He pulls away, dazed, shaky, and it all comes crashing down.

Chime

"Sorry," his breath comes in short, anxious puffs, "I shouldn't have done that."

Gods strike him down; he's doomed. He wants to crawl into a hole and die. Yet he also wants to pull her close and seal their lips together once more. Do it again; he wants to. He's beginning to understand the obsession people have with kissing.

Perhaps that is the whole reason this day exists. An excuse to lose yourself within another.

Chime

"Yeah, you shouldn't have," [Y/N] affirms.

Chime

"Now, do it again."

Chime

"Anyone could see us," Jaha points out, for the sake of the other. It is also at this point that it occurs to Jaha that the woman may have been flirting with him this entire time. From the moment she approached him, bottle in hand, stars in her eyes.

"Great brother, when have either of us ever cared what anybody thinks?"

Chime

There is more heat the second time. More heat as the other takes the lead and licks into his mouth. Jaha thinks he hears a wolf whistle from below, but it dissolves quickly into the roaring in his ears. He's lost in a tidal wave of sensation. He wonders if it's really all supposed to feel like this because, in both of his lifetimes, he never imagined that it would feel like this. Everything is upside down, sideways, lengthwise.

Chime

The woman takes him deeper and tangles her tongue with his own, and Jaha feels like he's floating. He returns with fervour, with that clumsy confidence that only comes with your first time. [Y/N] withdraws, and then she's everywhere. Hands under Jaha's shirt, lips on his neck. She finds the sweet spot between Jaha's jaw and collarbone and bites down hard, Jaha throws his head back in a choked gasp.

Chime

The invigorating thrill of battle is there, and it's strange because nothing about this is a fight. There is no resistance here. [Y/N] takes and takes, and Jaha allows it because he's never wanted anything but this. But still, he feels almost exactly how he does when he's deep in a fight. Sweat stuck to his brow, chest heaving with strangled breaths, lip split. He feels overwhelmed. He feels alive, and it's brilliant.

Chime

The woman latches onto his neck, sucking mottled bruises that will surely be there in the morning. There's far too much happening and somehow not enough. She is all-consuming, and faintly in the back of his mind, Jaha feels like he's forgetting something. Something important, but by the Gods, Jaha doesn't want this to end. Whatever this is, he wants to drown in it, then her hands drift to his waistband, and it's like the man has been dumped into a cold lake because he remembers–

Chime

"[Y/N], wait—" the other bites down on his neck again, "[Y/N]—" Jaha gasps, "Wait."

The woman pulls off of him, and she looks just as wrecked as Jaha feels. Her pupils are blown wide, and there is everything and nothing but stardust in them. Jaha is breathless, chest heaving with exertion. He takes a deep breath and wipes the spit from his mouth, trying to compose himself.

"Is something the matter?" Jaha hears a speck of concern in the other's usually cheery voice, remembers the dare, and all of a sudden he feels like a Grade-A Asshole. 

"There's something you should know," he swallows thickly, his heart beating fast. How does he even go about admitting it? Now that he thinks about it, this is actually really fucked. When he took that bet, never in his wildest dreams did he imagine anything like this. 

[Y/N] hums like she doesn't particularly care what Jaha has to say, instead busying herself with running her hands over Jaha's abs.

What does he do? Pry the other's hands from his body and stop her long enough to choke out: Hey, Mongrang actually dared me to fuck someone tonight, but I promise that this has nothing to do with it, well, in the beginning, it did, but now it doesn't, and I feel like a fucking dickhead, also I'm really enjoying this, Mongrang be damned, so can we please proceed?

Yeah, that is not going to work, Jaha might as well condemn himself to the guillotine.

He'd never had time for this really: to want. Wanting was a distraction, distraction was weakness, and there was no place for weakness for the Mad Demon. It was almost a cruel twist of fate to think that this was only half real, but fate always had been immeasurably cruel to him. He feels guilty.

"I don't know how to say this–"

"What? That this is a dare, and now that this is actually happening you're getting cold feet?" The woman is close again, so close that she outright purrs into his ear, and Jaha freezes up.

"How did you..." Jaha furrows his brows in confusion, overwhelmed with the abject horror of this situation. The woman knew from the very beginning, and she still—

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, great brother, that man can't whisper even when he's sober," she licks at the shell of his ear and Jaha stifles a gasp. [Y/N]'s hands creep below his waistband and leave little electric sparks in their wake, "And word tends to spread fast."

"So you're okay with this?"

"Clearly," she trails her lips downward, letting her teeth tug at the skin underneath Jaha's ear until it's black and blue, bloody; gingerly licking at the wound she left, the smooth lap of her tongue sending shivers down the man's spine, "I initially came to make fun of you, but I suppose this is a tolerable change in events."

"Besides, I thought perhaps I'd help you out a bit. Trust me when I say I know what it's like to lose a bet to..." Her face contorted into a disgusted expression as she paused, "Mongrang."

"Who knew you were so generous?" Jaha rhetorically asks, breathless between kisses.

"Oh, but I'm not. Now you'll owe me," she smiles, sinister, and it should really unnerve Jaha, reminding him that he is, in fact, dealing with [Y/N], but instead, it sparks heat in his stomach.

Jaha considers the pros and cons of owing the woman anything. In reality, there are no pros at all, he's playing a dangerous game with a very dangerous woman, yet he can't find it in himself to care.

He's always had a bit of a thing for the melodramatic. Call him crazy, but everything about the woman intrigues him. How she conjures death from delicate fingers. The quirk of her lip as she decimates a battlefield, the spark of mischief whenever she gazes upon him.

There's another wolf whistle from below, and this time, the man pulls back long enough to shoot a death glare at whatever piss-drunk party-goers are in the courtyard right now.  

[Y/N] can't help but snicker, "Wanna get out of here?"

The woman's room is similar to Jaha's own, save for the amount of personal effects she has brought with her to this hotel. She always has to leave an impression wherever she goes, Jaha concludes.

"Finished gawking?" Her voice is playful, but there's a sultry undercurrent there that is novel to Jaha. He's sure he likes it.

Hands pull at clothes. The man fumbles with the woman's clothes. He's nervous, honestly, he has been since Mongrang made him agree to this asinine dare, but this is different. He's inexperienced to a level he hasn't been since he was dropped head-first into the world of martial arts at such a tender age.

"So you really know everything?" He asks awkwardly– half-asks because he already knows the answer– trying to distract from the fact that he physically cannot get the other's clothes off. He's never had to touch women's clothes before, after all.

"Of course, I did! Do I really need to go over this with you again?" [Y/N] pulls his hands off of her, and expertly undoes her robes, before shucking it off to reveal her undergarments. Jaha doesn't usually see women show this much skin, and the observation is tantalizing Mostly due to the fact that it's her. He finds himself wanting to run his tongue over the smooth unblemished flesh; wants to sink his teeth into her.

"And you still want to..." Jaha starts to deflate. Why is he so nervous now? He wants this; wants it really bad, but it's like there's a mental block. Something is keeping him from relaxing.

"I'm here, aren't I?" The woman sighs and takes a step back, a very slight pout on her lips, "Is something the matter?"

"No, not at all," Yes. "I just don't…" 

"I'm not going anywhere, Jaha."

Oh.

Some minutes later, the man settles his teeth in the skin near the other's jugular. Litters the woman's skin with love bites and mottled bruises. They're both half-naked on the bed by the time Jaha admits it:

"I've got another confession to make."

"What now?" [Y/N] withdraws from the bruise she'd been methodically sucking into Jaha's collarbone, clearly annoyed at the interruption. 

Jaha purses his lips, "I've never–"

"Done this before?" She finishes for him, bangs lying flat on her face, "I know. You're kind of obvious."

Jaha feels his ears go hot, and murmurs a soft, "Sorry."

"Sorry for what? Being a virgin? Don't be an idiot," [Y/N] kisses him again, softer this time, her voice light. And it must be the alcohol because there's no other excuse for the way Jaha leans into the kiss, eyes falling shut, trying his hardest to be eaten alive.

"I was planning to take the lead anyway," the woman breathes across his lips, soft, and playful, and Jaha melts. He's so incredibly into this, and every breath and movement feels absolutely electric. 

"Just tell me what to do," he says, words falling from his lips like a plea. His neck is beyond hot, he's sure of it, there's far too much going on. Jaha is so far gone, and they haven't done anything but kiss and mark each other up.

This is everything and nothing like what he had imagined.

When he'd met the woman, never in his wildest dreams did he think he'd have the privilege of seeing her like this. He feels unbridled, filled with lust and something else he can't quite place. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he'd have the chance to see, feel, touch.

The man rakes his nails down her thighs, settling them at the base of [Y/N]'s ass, and plants butterfly kisses over the soft skin of her neck. His fingers leave little crescent moons in their wake. The woman slaps his hands away and pushes Jaha back on the bed lightly.

"Enough of that," she moves to pull the man's underwear down, hooking her fingers in the waistband with a sultry look. She frees his cock and then leans down to be level with it.

"[Y/N], what are you—"

[Y/N] simply smirks and presses a kiss to the head of Jaha's cock. It jumps at the sensation, and Jaha feels a jolt of pleasure throughout his entire body. He barely ever indulges himself in these things, and now that she's the one indulging him, he feels like he's not going to last long at all.

"This is a one-time thing," the woman whispers against his head, and it's like she doesn't even believe it herself because there's gold in her voice and stars in her eyes. 

Jaha nods.

[Y/N] takes him in her mouth, and it's not fair. Jaha's head tips back, mouth falling open in a silent moan. There's a hazy, perfect precision in which she works him with her lips and tongue, and Jaha thinks he might die.

The woman is criminally good with her mouth.

And as much as he's thankful for [Y/N]'s surprising amount of skill, he's also a bit jealous because she has to have done all of this to other people. She couldn't have learned everything or become this talented all by herself.

Jaha frowns at the thought. 

People have been in his position before. They've been held by [Y/N], been touched by [Y/N]—they’ve held [Y/N], touched [Y/N].

That makes Jaha want to step up. If he wants to have any chance of doing this again with her, he has to step up. And so, albeit uncertain, he gently runs his fingers through the woman's hair before finding a steady grip and tugging her closer.

The moan she lets out around his cock reassures him, and soon he finds a steady grip, tugging her closer.

Jaha tries to ignore the claustrophobic feeling of having his cock in such a tight space and instead focuses on the quite overwhelming feeling of hitting the back of the woman's throat. It's foreign, but not unwelcome.

Jaha's sure that if the woman could have it her way, she would make him reach even further, be even rougher. But Jaha's unsure if he could handle all that this time around.

He knows she's not made of glass. And he does wonder what she'd look like borderline gagging on his cock. He wonders what she'd sound like, how she'd cope with it all.

Jaha subconsciously tightens his hold on the woman's locks and yanks her head back, forcing [Y/N] to look him in the eye. She's silent, waiting to hear whatever Jaha has to say.

And, you know what? Fuck it, Jaha thinks.

It's his first time. He might as well push the limits.

"Let me be selfish for a bit, won't you?"

[Y/N] frowns, not sure what Jaha is really implying, but Jaha doesn't let her wander too far into confusion. He thrusts his hips forward, pushing himself in as far as the woman will allow him to go, and her eyes widen. Her fingers dig into Jaha's hip, drawing a pained hiss from the ravenette, but she can't pull away because Jaha's hand keeps her in place.

The woman has to fight the urge to gag. She's held down for maybe five seconds, maybe eight; she can't really keep count. She's too focused on trying to breathe through her nose. When Jaha finally pulls her off, the woman is spluttering and trying to catch her breath. Tears have collected on her lashes, but they haven't fallen just yet. She tries to blink them away, but Jaha grabs her jaw with his other hand and forces her mouth open again before shoving her down onto his cock.

This time the woman is expecting it and thus, she's a little more relaxed, but each time Jaha rolls his hips, her throat tightens around the man's cock. [Y/N] moans, nails scraping down his thighs, and that must've been the right move to play because the desperate groans that cascade down from Jaha's lips are all she ever wants to hear.

[Y/N] feels the drag of his cock as he shoves himself in and out of her throat repeatedly, setting a fast and brutal pace that has the other whimpering. It feels good, so good, for both of them. Jaha thinks this is better than anything he’s ever experienced before, including anything he’s ever imagined. And it definitely is.

Taking this risk was rewarded.

A low wanton sound escapes his lips and it's like the floodgates don't ever wish to close because Jaha is suddenly unabashedly loud. Panting and groaning. It's so vastly different than when he's by himself, not at all like when he used to steal away to his room and fuck his fist until he's shaking. No. This is so much better.

The woman's cheeks are hollow and stretched around him, caressing him with every motion, war-torn hands that should be hardened, but are soft– so soft, rubbing circles into his thighs. 

"Shit," Jaha loses himself in it. There's too much, far too much of this feeling that threatens to overtake him. He gasps, shudders, bucks his hips one, two times, and he's done; finishing breathlessly into the other's mouth.

[Y/N] pulls back to sit on her heels. Taking a moment to breathe and reign her emotions back in. She then hums and sticks out her tongue so Jaha can see his work, then closes her mouth and swallows, and for the second time tonight, Jaha finds himself drawn to the motion of her throat. It occurs to him that he's never come that fast in his life, but everything about this is so hot that it quickly overrides any kind of shame Jaha might have at the thought.

[Y/N] wipes her mouth and rises from her knees to crawl back over Jaha. She then straddles him.

"You did well," she praises, and Jaha feels another jolt of pleasure go through him. Oh. That's new. She seems to notice it too given the way her smirk widens.

"Do you like when I do that?" She grins and moves in to kiss him again, "Praise you?”

Jaha can taste himself on her lips and that shouldn't be as hot as it is.

[Y/N] pulls away for a moment, "You look beautiful like this."

Jaha's entire body flushes hot; he moans, and the other swallows it, lips back on him with a fury usually reserved for fighting. The moment is carnal but undeniably romantic.

She chuckles, "I’ll make note of that."

Jaha heaves out a breath, "How are we—"

"Lay back, you're going to fuck me now," she says, so matter of fact, yet playful, that Jaha can feel himself getting hard again. The woman settles herself on Jaha's hips who shudders under her.

"Relax, great brother, you're shaking," she says with a soft laugh.

He is? Oh, he is. Whether it's due to anticipation or the orgasm he experienced moments ago, he's uncertain.

"Don't worry about your performance. It's just you and me. I won't tease you for something like this," but that's the problem, "Or is something else the matter?"

Jaha looks away.

"Oh?" [Y/N] rolls her hips and locks eyes with the man, "It's me, isn't it?" She smirks, ever the troublemaker.

"Usually, you'd do this, but I'll cut you some slack tonight," she reaches forward to the bedside table, still perched on top of Jaha. She takes out a small bottle of... something. Jaha wouldn't know. She then begins applying whatever was in the bottle on his cock, and Jaha's breath hitches. It's cold, but combined with the hotness of her hands, it's pleasurable.

The sight of her only adds to the moment. Settled on top of him, moonlight haloing her hair, making her look inhuman, making her look more than.

"Beautiful," the words fall from Jaha's lips before he can stop them, a divine truth being pulled from his very being. Because the woman is beautiful, devastatingly so, and it would be a great disservice not to tell her.

"Stop talking," she murmurs, a blush coating her cheeks. And then she slips Jaha inside of her.

It's awkward at first: fucking. Getting used to the movement, the feeling, everything. It's too much and not enough at all. A beautiful contradiction. [Y/N] rolls her hips, and Jaha gasps, twitching inside of her. They pick up a steady rhythm, and the man clamps a hand over his mouth, resisting the urge to wail. She, however, pries the hand from his mouth and interlaces their fingers.

She is hot and soft inside, the tantalizing slide of skin on skin aided by the slick oil she'd used earlier. Jaha wonders if she carries that around all the time, or if tonight was just a special case. Before he can stop it, the thought of being special, of being something greater than ordinary sends a hot spike of pleasure through his stomach.

Fucking is like fighting, he decides. A dance of passion between two souls. He can't get enough of it.

To be honest, initially, Mongrang's dare terrified him. But he thinks he might be okay with this. [Y/N] is firm but gentle. She takes the lead, and Jaha is happy to follow. He lets himself slip away into bliss, genuine tears pricking at his eyes. It's so much, too much, and too good for him to think at all. It's too much for him to do anything but feel. He grips her hips tighter and squeezes his eyes shut in the pure madness of it all.

He's completely caught up in the moment, the sky could fall, and he doesn't think he'd notice.

"Shit dog," he doesn't see him again until lunch the next day. He's clearly avoiding him, sitting at a table all by himself.

"Oh, country bumpkin, about that bet, I realized that—" Jaha cuts him off by throwing a heavy metal pin on the table.

"Holy shit," Mongrang breathes.

"You actually pulled it off," he picks up [Y/N]'s pin, and scrutinizes it like he's trying to see if it's fake, "And with her of all people?"

Jaha smirks, plopping down on the chair opposite Mongrang, "So what do I win?"

© yeri (@yerrenica) ⬦ do not repost, copy, translate, nothing. this is sort of crappy because i haven't written anything in ages, so if you find any mistakes, I'm sorry for that lol also teeny bit out of character because, again, i haven't been consuming or writing any rotmd content for a while now. HAPPY VALENTINE'S!

[yerrenica]

⋯ ROTMD OC

⬦ info; self-insert rotmd (return of the mad demon) oc drawn by @jahascouch !

❝ To the moon and back? That's quite a distance for such an ardent declaration. But I suppose it is fitting... for you have taken my heart on journeys beyond imagination. ❞

⬦ more info on courtesans;

These women are not like any other prostitutes, not even the upscale escorts. High-class ones are usually exceptionally gorgeous, highly educated, and knowledgeable about current events. While they do provide a variety of services, including sexual favours, this is almost never the primary reason a customer would pay for her time. It's also vital to remember that courtesans tend to be highly picky about who they serve. A courtesan may not always provide you her time, even if you are wealthy and able to pay the astronomical rates that they usually demand.

Most clients utilize courtesans as their companions. If they don't have a suitable companion and have to attend a work function, party, or go overseas, they can choose to go with a courtesan instead. These women are pretty, good conversationalists, well-spoken, presentable in even the most refined societies, and most definitely not identifiable as prostitutes. The main reason for this is that they are not sex workers.

Over the years, not much has changed in the courtesan's job. These are uncommon, pricey, elite women who are typically well-off. You will pay an arm and a leg for a courtesan's company. The majority of folks can't afford it.

And when it comes to Yerenica... well, the most you may get from her (after spending an entire lifetime's worth of gold) is a game of shogi, unless you get her to take a liking to you. *nudge nudge mongrang*

[yerrenica]

ROTMD smut drafts;

◟੭ rotmd; jaha lee & fem!reader + seongtae & male!reader

◟੭ info; smut (mdni!), grinding, hate "sex", no protection (assume there is no risk), rough sex, anal sex, no beta we die like jaha's parents, seongtae gets his brains fucked, dirty talk, safe word.

◟੭ wc; 1.5k

⋯ JAHA LEE

The leader of the Low Down had never been slapped by a woman before. Part of it was probably due to the fact that no woman had ever been interested enough to interact with him long enough to actually slap him before, and perhaps it should have stayed that way.

He didn't get slapped because the aforementioned woman was interested in him - no, far from it. And frankly, the feeling was mutual. The slapping hardly helped his fondness meter towards her either.

The room fell quiet. [Y/N] glared at him. "You're a fucking bastard." She spat, gritting her teeth.

Jaha's head was whipped to the side, mouth falling open as strands of raven hair hung down. The slap stung.

He slowly turned back to look at her, and they locked eyes. For the first time since knowing him, the woman caught sight of a small glint in them where they were usually so dark. She swallowed, feeling the anger that had just surged through her body begin to subside.

She watched as Jaha's gaze flickered down to her lips, lingering there before moving back up again. [Y/N] hadn’t realised that their faces had grown so close, and she could almost feel the way their breaths mingled together at the proximity.

It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room, at that moment. [Y/N] felt her heart thump in her throat, seeing Jaha's eyes darken, but not in the way they usually did. Something seemed different this time around.

And it didn't take long for her to figure out just what that darkening meant.

Within a split second, he was surging forward, grabbing the woman by her shoulder and pulling her in— their lips smashed together in a heated kiss, gasps muffled by the other’s mouth as Jaha pushed his tongue inside.

[Y/N]'s head spun as she moved her hand up, holding onto the side of Jaha's neck as her head was tilted up for a better angle. She was pushed back against a nearby wall, and Jaha wasted no time in planting his knee between her thighs. Of course, she welcomed the action by grinding against it.

Between urgent kisses, Jaha uttered. "Bend your knee."

Dazed by the kisses, the woman didn't question his request and did as told. She planted her foot on the wall she was being held against, and only when Jaha started grinding his own groin against her knee did she understand his intentions.

She could feel the stirring of his cock as it grew hard against her. And truthfully, she wasn't fairing much better. Against Jaha's own knee, she couldn't help but grind, feeling herself getting wetter with each kiss and each movement.

Her hands found their way into raven hair, threading her fingers through the strands and tugging. She blindly reached down, snaking her hand past the waistband of Jaha's pants, and Jaha opted to move slightly away from her knee to accommodate her hand as she began rubbing him through his boxers, feeling along his already painfully hard dick. The man made a soft noise into her mouth, biting down on [Y/N]'s lower lip in response.

She gasped when their mouths parted, a string of saliva connecting them as Jaha attached himself to her neck, going at the sensitive skin there. 

Her thighs trembled around him as they ground together— Jaha's breath hit her skin as he panted, burying his face in the crook of [Y/N]'s neck as the other's hand fastened in his boxers.

"Fuck." Jaha managed, sliding his own hands down lower. He brushed over the woman's waist before leaning slightly lower and grasping the bottom of her thighs, before lifting her up. [Y/N]'s hand left his dick at that moment, and her hands found themselves anchoring on Jaha's shoulders instead. Jaha didn't complain though, and moved to stand in between her legs, which were now wrapped around his torso.

Their lower halves met, and oh, this was so much better.

Jaha could feel his orgasm approaching each time he ground his erection against her clothed crotch, each time she tightened her grip on his hair, each time she let out a choked moan at the friction. It was pure bliss having someone who claimed to detest him writhing in his hold. 

Jaha couldn't hold back a groan from escaping his parted lips. He was so painfully close. "I'm—"

There was a knock at the door.

They halted. He could feel the way the woman's grip tightened in his hair and the way she slightly pulled back.

Fuck— Jaha had completely forgotten he ordered Seongtae to bring them something to eat earlier. Seongtae. How dare he cockblock his own sect leader?

⋯ SEONGTAE

Seongtae liked talking shit. Most would say that was all he was good at, and honestly, they wouldn't be far from the truth.

One of the people included in the "most that would say" was [Y/N]. But there was a difference between him, and the rest of the most. And the difference was quite simple. [Y/N] had physical proof of him being good for nothing more than yapping his jaw.

It was quite literally in front of him right now, after all.

"[Y/N]." Seongtae whined, eyes downcast to watch his own flimsy cock slowly rise for the nth time that night. He could also see [Y/N] disappearing inside of him and the tiny bulge underneath his belly button spoke volumes for just how deep inside of him he was leaving his mark. "Fucking move already."

His whiny grant of approval was rewarded.

He had been like this all night. Acting all high and mighty only to turn into a writhing mess beneath the other in seconds.

He pulled out until Seongtae was stretched around the width of his tip and then he slammed back into the captivating heat. Seongtae's eyes grew impossibly wide because fuck, he'd forgotten how sensitive his body was, spent from his who knows how many orgasms prior.

"Look at you, trying to order me around. You're lucky I've reached the end of my patience too."

The man repeated his actions, angling his hips a different way each time he speared Seongtae onto his cock. The force of [Y/N]'s thrusts and the consistent jab against Seongtae's abused prostate sent Seongtae's eyes rolling into the back of his head. He could barely process each wave of pleasure that crashed through him, but he's greedy and he wants more, more, more.

"Is- is that the best you've got?" Seongtae taunted.

There was no point in trying to regain his shattered pride, but something told him that pushing [Y/N]'s buttons would be rewarding, now that he knew the man had no self-restraint to stop fucking into him. And besides, they've been going through these taunts and rewards all night long already.

"Thought you said you'd be better than—"

[Y/N] grabbed Seongtae's waist and he yanked the light-haired male down onto his cock harshly. The way he pressed up against Seongtae's sensitive spot was too much for him to bear, his legs trembled and ankles kicked against [Y/N]'s back, but the other forced him to stay put. The more Seongtae tried to escape, the stronger [Y/N]'s grip got.

"Don't you dare say his name."

Seongtae reached down, trying to pry [Y/N]'s wrists away, but the man didn’t humour him in the slightest. He remained steady and all Seongtae convinced him to do was lift the smaller man’s bottom half up so that he could slide in even deeper.

"[Y/N]- stop!" Seongtae shouted, writhing with all his might as the pleasure and pain of overstimulation began to fog his mind. Any more and Seongtae thought his mind might actually break. "It's- it's too much,��i-idiot!"

[Y/N] leaned lower and lower, forcing Seongtae to bend in half, and then when he was sure he’d gotten Seongtae pinned underneath him with nowhere to go, he moved one of his hands. It landed over the prominent bulge in Seongtae's stomach and he pressed. 

"No, [Y/N]- please! Stop," Seongtae cried, shocks of indescribable ecstasy causing him to arch his back off the sheets and twitch almost violently. [Y/N] waited, glancing down at where Seongtae's hands were positioned over [Y/N]'s wrist and chest, but Seongtae didn't tap him, which meant he didn't actually need to stop.

When their eyes met again, the look in [Y/N]'s eyes was predatory.

Seongtae felt his walls trying to keep the other inside of him as the man dragged himself out. When Seongtae was left empty with the other's tip pressed teasingly against his messy rim, both of them could feel how the swollen hole winked longingly and Seongtae knew what the man was trying to prove even if [Y/N] continued to remain silent.

See how honest your body is? You keep telling me to stop, but you want my dick inside of you so bad. You want me to keep fucking you. You want me to use you.

[Y/N] rammed into him again and Seongtae swore that he blacked out for a fraction of a second. The feeling was so intense, so brutal, and Seongtae found it hard to keep his eyes open. His mouth parted to let out a scream that he couldn’t even hear, tears rolling nonstop down his face. He couldn't think anymore.

"I was trying to be gentle with you, wanted to make you feel all special, all loved." The man grunted, slamming into Seongtae over and over again.

"But if you want to be fucked like a whore, fine."

© yeri (@yerrenica) ⬦ do not repost, copy, translate, nothing. i am actually thinking of finishing the seongtae fic, because genuinely seeing seongtae get his brains fucked is one of the best things life could ever offer me. i have so many slutty lines in mind for it, ughh...

[yerrenica]

⋯ JAHA LEE x MONGRANG | killers at heart

⬦ info; mongjaha, panic attacks, ballroom dancing, pining, mongrang is a mess (also touch averse), no beta we die like byung gu, skytsui is mentioned (implied yerisky).

⬦ wc; 6.4k

The Jade Flower Palace's event planners have really outdone themselves this time, and Mongrang hates them for it. He's having the worst night he's had in weeks and it's all their fault.

In reality, it's not their fault at all. But the people who forced him into this were not here right now, so he had to get someone, anyone, to blame.

The Jade Flower Palace has a rule. Well, it has a lot of rules, but the one that is currently screwing him over is this: 

Jade Flower Palace Code of Conduct V. 4:

Section C, Article 4

For significant palace social events* with over 150 members of the general public - there must be at least two (2) Martial Masters present.

*See appendix [ii.x] for extended event criteria.

Unfortunately, the event that Mongrang is currently wasting away at meets all the said criteria… He checked. It's the day of the Dongzhi Festival, which means it's cold as fuck, dark as fuck, and everyone's stressed as fuck. He just wishes he was home, curled under a blanket by a dying fire, some lovely woman's hands rubbing soothing circles into his back. He sincerely hopes that the people who wrote the Code of Conduct trip into a ditch.

The palace's main ballroom has been made to resemble a frozen forest; done up in silvers and blues and glittering tinsel. The servants have done a spectacular job of it. Various crystal trees dot the space, carved from rare silver ore, and embedded with glittering gemstones. The centerpiece is a magnificent fir tree, carved completely from ice. It's almost tall enough to scrape the golden dome at the room's centre; the key word being: almost. Nothing can be tall enough to reach the cupola. That's another rule.

The lower ceiling is intended to emulate the night sky. The dark shimmery fabric has been draped from the upper balconies and crisscrosses the room, forming a perfect backdrop for the tens of thousands of twirling snowflakes. They don't melt, don't fall, only twinkle in place like baby stars, casting dappled light over the crowd.

It's truly a dazzling display.

Mongrang would like nothing more than to be able to fully immerse himself in the beauty of it all, but alas, the reality of his situation is far too damning.

Mongrang usually tries to make himself scarce for these events. He doesn't harbour a particular dislike for galas in general. But it was more of an issue with the attendees. From the moment he began avenging Byung Gu's death, an entire host of their nation's elite decided that he was the Jade Flower Palace's most eligible bachelor. They've been going out of their way ever since. Hoping to win his hand for their daughters.

And sure, while Mongrang loved to indulge in hedonism, these particular high-class women were not to his tastes. (He'd like to add that he means personality-wise.)

It's not that he doesn't understand their reasoning; He's young, physically attractive, influential, and wealthy. Marrying someone from within the Mong family would give any family a lot of influence.

Has he mentioned that he's by far the best choice out of the Mong family? Yeah. You'd have to be severely desperate to go after anyone else from his lineage. 

Now, just because Mongrang is the best choice, doesn't make him a good one. To be honest, the entire situation is a little sad. He's been introduced to hundreds of young women, and been wined and dined across all of the land. But he forgets their names, faces, and stories almost immediately; all blurring together into a mass of unrecognizable bodies.

Most of the women tend to swoon over him, in awe of his power, status, and other arbitrary nonsense. Some are a little scared, nervous that they'll fuck up and invoke the Jade Flower Palace's wrath. It doesn't really bother him. He, in theory, could reassure them that they'll be okay after his inevitable rejection, but he doesn't particularly care enough to ease their fears. 

Hey. If the entire family decides to sleep with pocket knives under their pillows for the rest of their lives, who is he to stop them? Not that that would make any difference in the grand scheme of things, anyway. Besides, if he were planning to put a hit on them, they'd already be dead.

Sometimes - people simply forget to use their brains.

Honestly, they truly needn't fret. He's not interested in any of that. He's got bigger things to think about. Like how he feels like he's carrying the entire world on his shoulders, how he's unprepared to be the next cult leader, and how the Mong family abhors him.

Mongrang is currently (trapped in) making polite conversation with a young lady. She's quite pretty, if not a little obnoxious. Her name is Skylar if he remembers correctly; the subordinate of some sect whose name continues to escape him. Skylar is clearly not interested in him, well, not in that way, anyway. From the moment they were forced into this social interaction, she’s been (not so) subtly stealing glances at one of the entertainers stationed at the Northern doors. 

Mongrang decides to put her out of her misery.

"I see that someone's caught your eye." He notes, voice only a touch above the steady playing of the orchestra. Her sect leader isn't nearby, probably engrossed in some conversation with another old man with avaricious hands and a giant stick up his ass. Mongrang nods his head in the direction of the entertainer. Skylar stiffens up, eyes widening.

Mongrang gives her a gentle smile. The kind he reserves for the civilians (especially the women (mostly the women)). The kind he practices in the mirror every day so he can come across as more than an empty shell of a person.

"Her name is Yerenica." He whispers. Tension drains from her shoulders. "She has one last performance left. Find her afterwards and ask her to dance." He suggests.

"But—"

"Don't worry about your sect leader."

He could easily have whatever sect leader she was under distracted for a couple hours. Slip a sleeping drug into his drink. Have an escort give him some extra attention. Lock him outside in the gardens. Hell, he could have his body dumped in a ditch somewhere if it'd make Skylar's life easier. 

"Mongrang, if I may ask." She pulls him from his scheming. Her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, trying to find the right words.

He nods. "Yes?"

"Are you... like me?"

Oh.

He pauses. No one's ever asked him that before. 

He really doesn't know, and even if he did, he probably couldn't tell her. But his thoughtful silence seems to speak for him. Skylar smiles, like she knows something he doesn't. It's her first real smile of the night.

"You are kind." 

He doesn't say anything in parting, and she slips away into the crowd. He wishes to tell her that he is not, and will never be kind, but he is almost certain that she already knows.

He digs his nails into his palm repeatedly - a nervous tick that he has been trying to get rid of for years. Many of his siblings have told him that it's unbecoming.

He can't help but stifle a scowl at the thought. Perhaps he should return to the bar. After all, he's far too sober to be here right now.

He makes his way over, narrowly avoiding tripping over the most inconveniently placed decorative bush he's ever encountered. He's been acting far too clumsy tonight. He's about to order however many shots of alcohol from the east he can reasonably knock back in one go when a distinctive, shrill voice breaks his concentration.

"Mongrang!" His blood goes cold. He knows that voice. He hates that voice. "Would you care to join us at our table?"

This particular girl has been a resident thorn in his side for the past year. She's wearing an ugly olive green hanfu. It clashes horribly with her skin. It has far too many gems, frills, and ornaments. Mongrang thinks it makes her look like a toad. Why did she insist on always wearing that hideous shade?

Her name is Mi-Cha or Mi-Hi or Yoo-Mi or something along those lines. He knows, for a fact, it has a Mi in it, but that's about it. He would ask her again, but he doesn't really want to use any of his already limited brain power to remember it.

"Of course! It would be my pleasure." He says, forcing his face into a familiar false smile. Be nice Mongrang. Be gracious. Smile. Show teeth. They're all watching you.

They walk to the table. The girl hanging off his arm like a noose around his neck.

He really wouldn't be that upset about the invitation if it weren't for the fact that he hates these people. He honestly wouldn't mind sitting down for a bit, but this woman and her father have been harassing him for half a year. He should've known they'd be here.

The girl, Mi-Cha, is delusional. There is simply no other explanation. She thinks he's in love with her. Unable to see that his compliments are surface level, his smile is fake, and his politeness is obligatory. Her father is the same kind of delusional. Mongrang can't stand people like him. People who are drunk on money, power, and social status.

Everyone at the table is delighted to make the acquaintance of a member of the Mong family, and if he has to feign interest in another person's narcissistic business venture one more time, it might just kill him, or them, depending on how well he can keep himself in check. This is why, for the past two years, his eldest brother has been effectively banned from these gatherings. You kill one party guest and suddenly you're benched. Hey. Now that Mongrang thinks about it. His brother might be onto something.

Right now, Mongrang is in Purgatory, sandwiched between the desperate duo. The father is to his right, talking to some other old fool about embezzling taxpayer gold or whatever people do nowadays to make their millions.

Yoo-Mi, yeah, that's definitely her name, sits to his left. She's exceedingly boring. She has the personality of a paper bag and talks in a high-pitched monotone voice that somehow manages to both be incredibly quiet and exceptionally irritating. Mongrang has to strain to hear her over the music. It's quickly starting to lull him to sleep, and if he has to listen to another story about her entirely unremarkable time at a Western boarding school he's going to throw up.

Furthermore, she's a horrible person.

She is mean to servants, rude to the palace staff, and is genuinely a bitch to everyone she deems lower than herself. He had to bite his tongue as she happily rattled off a story about how one of her handmaidens had accidentally shattered her favourite mirror, so she had the poor woman beaten until she bled.

She spends an absurd amount of time talking openly about the plague of poor people. How they're "leeching off" the nation's resources, and using the money of respectable taxpayers to avoid getting jobs.

On top of it all, she's incredibly handsy. Right now, she's using his arm as a makeshift pillow, leaning closer by the minute. It makes him want to peel his skin off. A little-known fact about Mongrang is that he loathes being touched without permission. Growing up being treated the way he was in the Mong family made everything feel wrong. Every little bit of contact burned if he did not initiate it himself.

It's not like he can make his preference known. Oh, how people would talk if they knew the great Mongrang is touch averse.

Just deal with it, the night's almost over.

Mi-Hi tightens her grip on his arm, and he cannot help the gooseflesh that crawls up the limb. His stomach rolls. He needs better company and fast before he loses his shit and does something he might regret. His temper may not be as short as some of his other siblings, but he's not exactly known for being patient.

There has to be someone else here he knows. One of his servants? An old sparring partner? Or better yet, the second Martial Master that had to come with him for the event. There has to be another one of his siblings here. That's the rule.

It's not that Mongrang gets along particularly well with any of his other siblings. But they are excellent at repelling unwanted conversation partners. You'd have to be mad to approach a respectable Mong family member (except for him, apparently) in the first place, let alone two.

He prays it's not his eldest brother. Talking to him makes him want to pull his hair out. Honestly, listening to this wet napkin of a girl might actually be a better choice than chancing an encounter with–

"And then there was this one time when my dorm mate Cho-Hee told me the most extraordinary riddle…"

Never mind. 

He scans the room, looking for another signature robe. No one on the dance floor. No one at one of the centre tables. No one mingling with the crowd. Damn, whoever is here right now might just be doing a worse job socializing than him.

"So there's a man and a horse, or was it a horse and a man?" Gods, Mi-Young! What difference does it make? 

He digs his nails into his palm again, this time hard.

Turning his attention to the outskirts of the grand ballroom, he checks all of the best hiding spots. The corners, the ceiling, behind an ornamental plant, under the buffet table. Gods, he was starting to feel like a lunatic.

Unfortunately for Mongrang, no one appears to be anywhere. He racks his brain, trying to figure out where else someone could possibly be hiding.

...

No way. Was he left here all alone? He should've known his siblings would forsake him in such a manner. Thus, he groans, resigning to his fate of spending the rest of the night with Mi-Whoever.

He tilts his head up to the stained glass ceiling in prayer. Maybe the Gods will have mercy upon him? Smite him down from the heavens above?

After a second of wallowing in self-pity, he turns to look back at the people seated at the table with him, and oh... Then he sees it. Salvation. In the corner of his eye, on the third balcony. Raven-black hair (which he's always thought of as too soft-looking) tied with a red ribbon he'd recognize anywhere.

He narrows his eyes and focuses on the figure. Yes, that's definitely him leaning against the railing. He knows exactly who that is, and he's never felt more excited to see him.

"And then, Mongrang, this is the best bit: he had actually given his horse the name Friday. So that's actually the answer to the riddle—"

Everything is suddenly too loud and darkness is starting to creep into the edges of his vision, the girl's hands on him feel like ice, spiders crawl from beneath them and he needs to get them off. 

A server refills his wine glass for the third time in 15 minutes and he chugs it, shrugging Mi-Sun off in the process. But before the waitress can leave, he catches her sleeve. 

"Bring me two shots of the strongest shit you have." He whispers, hoping against hope that his face conveys his desperation.

"Ah, Mongrang, have I told you of the time that—" That agitating voice starts up again, and the rich girl wraps herself around him once more. He imagines taking a knife and— shit, this was getting really bad.

"Actually, make those doubles." He pleads. The servant nods, seemingly understanding his predicament, and hurries off to the bar. Five painful minutes and one elephant dart to the face of a story later, Mongrang's saviour returns with two shot glasses.

"190-proof." She whispers. And, heavens, he's never wanted to kiss a woman more.

He stands abruptly, shaking the girl off of him for a second time. Oops. Everyone at the table turns to look.

"Dearest apologies, this has been lovely. But I've got another obligation." He feigns dismay. 

“Oh, Mongrang, you will come back, won't you?” Calls one of the women. 

"I'll make every effort to." I will not.

He snatches the two glasses and quickly takes his leave, weaving through the sea of people to the grand staircase. His saviour still hasn't moved when he gets there. He's leaning against the railing, looking like he's contemplating throwing himself off.

"Country bumpkin!" He calls. 

The raven-haired man looks at him out of the corner of his eye. Mongrang stiffens just slightly. But quickly, a smug smile makes its way upon his face when he notes an entire empty bottle of wine on the floor next to the man. This might actually work.

Mongrang holds the shot glass at arm's length, willing the other man to take it. He does. Thank the Gods. 

"What's this?" Jaha asks dully, swirling the liquid around the cup. He narrows his eyes in distaste, looking between Mongrang and the glass as if they're both bugs and he's deciding which one to take a shoe to first.

"A peace offering." Mongrang shrugs.

"I guess you've finally started using your brain. " He smugly smirks, then sniffs the liquor and furrows his brows. "Shit dog, this is rubbing alcohol."

"Almost." Mongrang grins.

"Are you trying to poison me?"

"Wanna find out?" Mongrang raises his glass, and for all his posturing, Jaha does the same. They clink the shot glasses together before lifting them to their lips and knocking them back.

It's absolutely foul. Mongrang coughs and sputters, eyes threatening to bulge out of his sockets. He looks like he might puke. Though, he does hold it down. He threw a shot up once, way back in basic training, and never heard the end of it. He can't risk that again.

To his surprise, Jaha's countenance remains as nonchalant as ever. Mongrang wonders if during their time apart, Jaha lost his sense of taste, because surely no normal person would be able to down something as vile as this with such an expression on their face.

"Are you aware that people get thrown overboard for serving shit like this?" Jaha glances at Mongrang. Mongrang grins in turn, did Jaha just make a joke? "Also, I have to ask. What part of me standing alone in this corner implies that I wish to hold a conversation? Especially with the likes of you?" He just had to throw an insult in there, didn't he?

"A sense of kinship, perhaps." Mongrang gestures to the ball going on below them, specifically on the people in the crowds. "I hate these too."

The orchestra is on a break. Now, a vocal soloist has started a set. She's singing an aria, coloratura soprano voice ringing high and clear over the din of the party. Jaha seems to be enjoying it, though. Contrary to Mongrang, whose shoulders tense every time she goes above a G#.

"Maybe I don't hate these? I might be perfectly content right now." He huffs. "How did you even find me here?"

"Your hair." Mongrang smiles, as if proud of himself. Jaha makes a repulsed expression, then mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like "weirdo".

"I know you're having a shit time too, you're making that face you make when you absolutely abhor something."

"And what face is that?" He asks, genuinely curious.

"Your eyes get all hard. And then you draw your lips into a thin line. It looks like you're trying to vaporize everything and everyone in your line of sight." Mongrang describes, all the while his eyes trail over every contour of Jaha's face.

"That sounds like my usual expression."

"Well, to some. But it's different. I can tell."

"You sure pay a lot of attention to my face." Uh oh. Mongrang had not meant for the conversation to go in this direction.

"Why are you even here?" Mongrang attempts to change the subject, and wow, that did not come out right at all. He has no idea why he's tripping over his words like this in front of this country bumpkin. It's not like he's afraid of him.

Jaha seems to get what he means though, even if he furrowed his brows at Mongrang's harsh tone. He's almost never at these festivals. But It's not that he particularly dislikes them. On the contrary, he's quite fond of them. It's just that he simply has no time to attend them because everyone seems to constantly be up his ass about one thing or the other. Thus, his time is usually spent taking care of the working class and dealing with his enemies.

"I'm on a mission." He sighs, resigned. "My subordinates are here too. I'm here in case everything goes to shit."

Ah, that actually makes a lot of sense. From what Mongrang's amassed about the man is that he's always doing something. He can never just idly sit by and relax. There's always a reason for his actions. Still, though, Mongrang fails to understand just what could be so dangerous about a festival such as this?

"What about you?" Jaha unexpectedly asks, and Mongrang can't stop his face from brightening.

"Due to the palace's code of conduct. It's an obligation." Mongrang wistfully sighs. He'd truthfully rather be indulging in some wine with some pretty women.

Jaha hums in affirmation. Misery loves company. The soprano finishes her performance to the light applause of the audience. There's the scraping of chairs as the orchestra gets into place.

"You're making that face again." Mongrang says, which is a grave mistake because Jaha's expression breaks into a smirk.

"Honestly, shit dog, I'm more interested in why you've spent enough time studying my face to make that little observation." Shit. He's really dug himself into a hole here.

"I—'' Mongrang stutters, pink gathering on his cheeks. Later he'll blame the flush and the stuttering of his heart on the alcohol. Like he hasn't just been caught admitting he stares at this country bumpkin a bit more than is appropriate for their current relationship.

"Oh? Have I rendered the Great Mongrang: Lord Unable to Shut Up, speechless?" Mongrang rolls his eyes. "You can tell me. Don't be shy." Gods, is the other man usually this, for lack of a better term, flirty? He can't have been; Mongrang would've noticed. Although he supposed they never really talked much, or so he'd like to think. But somehow they always end up sharing a drink or two during every encounter.

Jaha smirks. Childish. Mongrang doesn't like how it makes his mouth go dry. Doesn't like that at all. He swallows thickly.

"You're um... well." He tries to think of a way to phrase his sentence in a way that won't dig an even bigger hole for him, but... "It'd be impossible not to stare at you." Fuck. That's arguably one of the worst things he could've said.

It's true though; Jaha is objectively handsome. Mongrang wishes he wasn't such a dick so that rich men and their daughters could fawn over him instead. He wishes he could bear at least some of the burdens of being known.

"Hmm?" Jaha croons. Mongrang can tell the other man is laughing at him. Because Jaha knows. He knows that Mongrang is watching every movement of his throat as he speaks, and tracing the contours of his jaw with his eyes. He probably thinks this is exceedingly funny, and Mongrang gets ready to be teased mercilessly for the rest of his miserable life and–

His salvation and damnation arrive in the same form: He hears them coming first. That soulless monotone, the clacking of high heels that she has no idea how to walk in, the sound of stupidity. You don’t always need to hear what somebody is saying to know it's idiotic.

Mongrang groans. "You've got to be kidding me." Walking up the stairs is the same girl he's avoiding, and this time, she has her father in tow. He pales. Mongrang tries his hardest to disappear into his robe, ignoring the static that threatens to creep into his vision.

"Shit dog?" A cold voice snaps him out of it. Oh. Mongrang forgot that he was having a conversation. Jaha glares at him, but his face is also laced with concern. Mongrang feels a twinge of guilt for dragging him into this.

"It's stupid. But you see them? 12 o'clock." He tilts his head in their direction. 

"The girl in the dress that makes her look like a toad and the old man?"

"Yeah. They've been on me for months. Won't take no for an answer. She's in love with me, convinced I'm her future husband."

Jaha bursts into laughter. "You're right. That is fucking stupid. Would've thought you'd have her in your bed by now."

Mongrang frowns. He may sleep around a lot, but even he has his limits.

The orchestra is back, the music picks up, and at the same time, he accidentally locks eyes with Satan herself. She waves and starts to tug her father in their direction.  Mongrang's eyes widen in horror.

"Shit. She saw me!"

"So?" Jaha is unimpressed. "What exactly is the problem here?"

"I don't want to be anywhere near her. She's the worst." Mongrang huffs, exasperated. 

"Tell her to fuck off then." Jaha says - like it's easy. He raises an eyebrow. "You're a member of the Mong family. Act like one."

"I've tried. But she's so dense, and she's always all over me, and I don't know what to say, and I just–" Mongrang's heart beats fast and he feels his breathing start to pick up. This is so embarrassing.  

He's so fucking itchy and he doesn't know why. He wants to tear his skin off. Or hers. Or someone's. He needs to do something. Would it be asking too much for the ground to open up, swallow him whole, and shroud him in its quiet darkness once and for all? If he asked nicely enough, would the abyss swallow him whole?

That would save a lot of people some grief.

"Fuck, shit dog, you're a mess. Does it really bother you this much?" Jaha asks. Mongrang realizes he's been frozen for a good ten seconds. The shorter one doesn't seem to be mocking him like usual. Right now, he sounds like he's underwater; he's so very far away, even though he's right there. This is stupid. Be a man, Mongrang. Just say fucking no. 

The girl and her father creep closer.

Mongrang nods. His hands are clenching and unclenching at his sides. Be kind. Be gracious. Be strong.

"I'm afraid I'll kill them." He admits. And Jaha's brows immediately crease. Ah. Now Mongrang understands why Jaha's here.

"Mongrang!" Great. In the time it's taken for Mongrang to pull himself together: Thing One and Thing Two have made their way across the balcony and are now even closer than before.

"Dear God, they're bold." Grumbles Jaha. And with the way Jaha turns, it almost seems as if he's about to leave and throw Mongrang to the wolves.

Mongrang is about to open his mouth and say something, anything, to make the other stick around for a while longer. Maybe he should start a fight with him—

But before he gets the chance, Jaha turns to Mongrang, and in the corner of his eye, he can see the toad and her father halt their movements.

"Mongrang, may I have this dance?" Jaha asks, voice like honey. He holds his hand out expectantly. His eyes betray him, though. Get me out of here. Mongrang instinctively reaches to take it, and Jaha grabs his wrist and tugs him away.  

"This is torture. You owe me in blood for this." He grumbles, before interlacing their fingers properly and leading them down the grand staircase, uncaring of the hundreds of eyes locked on them. Mongrang is pretty sure he sees one of the guards stationed at the entrance do a double take.

Truthfully, even Mongrang is stunned. He's so stunned that he has not yet spoken a word to Jaha. But how could he?

The crowd parts like a sea, erupting in a chorus of whispers as the two men take to the dance floor. Everyone tries to pretend like they're not watching, but they are. He can hardly believe it himself. He's not quite sure this is real life. Out of the corner of his eye, he spies Skylar speaking with Yerenica, who is still in her performance attire. He catches Skylar's gaze, and she smiles. She looks from him to Jaha, and back to him again. She nods.

"Well?" Jaha's icy voice snaps him from his stupor. "Are you planning to lead or must I do all the work?" Right, they're dancing, apparently, how could Mongrang forget when Jaha's struggling abysmally with moving his feet in time with Mongrang's?

"Oh, were we actually going to dance?" He asks, slightly nervous.

"If we weren't, I wouldn't have asked. You should know that I don't commit to things halfway." He glares, it doesn't really have any bite behind it. Mongrang stares blankly.

"But you really suck at this, so I didn't think you..." Mongrang cuts himself off. The country bumpkin had just saved him; he better not mess this up. After all, even he could appreciate help. Thus, he sighed.

"I'll tell you what to do. Just keep up." He quickly plasters on his signature smirk, which earns him a glare. "Keep one of your hands holding mine like this."

But even as he says this, he hesitates for a moment. Reminds himself to breathe. It'll be okay. He then places his palm against Jaha's, lightly. He waits for the inevitable lurch in his stomach, the feeling of maggots crawling under his skin from the touch. But it never happens. He feels fine. In fact, there's a pleasant warmth where their hands meet. That same warmth spreads through his arm and settles in between his ribs.

Mongrang stuns for just a moment, but the way Jaha is focusing on his instructions makes him smile, and he can feel himself relaxing.

Jaha hums, and asks. "You're supposed to put your hand on my waist, right?" Mongrang blanches. Jaha is unimpressed.

"Shit dog, you're an adult. Don't be a baby and grab my fucking waist."

This makes Mongrang relent and place a hand at his waist, pulling Jaha closer to him. He doesn't miss how the other man's eyes widen just a bit, how his breath hitches at the contact. Jaha is stiff and awkward as Mongrang guides him through the steps. Around them, couples dance without a care in the world. In a room full of people, they each have a moment to themselves, carving out their own slice of paradise. But even still, Mongrang can't help but eye their surroundings, looking for the toad.

"Relax." His dance partner breathes in his ear, tone irked. "You're far away from her already."

His words go straight to Mongrang's gut, and he complies. Jaha is right, after all.

Mongrang leads them through the waltz, whispering instructions over the orchestra. Gradually, they begin chatting, easing into the dance. It felt oddly effortless to dance with Jaha. And at some point, Mongrang realizes he's no longer listening to his words. Instead, he's hyper-fixated on the rasp of his voice. 

"Are you even listening to me?" Mongrang's been caught. He smiles sheepishly and shakes his head.

"You're insufferable." Jaha looks at him with an aloof frown. "You never answered my question, you know. How can you distinguish my pissed-off face from my regular one?"

"It's simple, really." Mongrang chuckles. "You make the pissed-off one at me all the time."

Jaha blinks for a moment before a small smile makes its way to his face. "Can't argue with that."

"Hey, country bumpkin? Can I ask you a question?"

"Clearly, you're already doing so." His dance partner frowns. "But go ahead if you must."

"Why did you help me back there?"

"I don't know, I just felt like it." He answers too quickly to be sincere.

"That's not true. If I had tried to attack them, you would've loved fighting me. So why did you keep me in check?" Mongrang quickly added. "And don't try to bullshit me by mentioning something about my ice arts."

"If I tell you the real reason, will you get off my ass?" He says, exasperated.

"Yes." Mongrang says immediately.

"You're not going to like it." He pauses, hoping that Mongrang will back out, but if anything, it seems to make him more eager.

"To be honest." He starts. The music swells. "I saw an expression on you that I'd never seen before." Mongrang is confused now. What is he talking about? "For a moment there… you looked afraid."

Mongrang tenses. At this rate, his heart is going to leap from his chest and roll across the floor. 

Would Jaha pick it up? 

It'd be better not to think of that right now.

"Country bumpkin, are you admitting that you study my face too?" He grins, regaining his composure. Jaha stomps on his foot.

The dance ends and the alcohol must be getting to Mongrang's head because before they part completely, he brings Jaha's hand to his lips and kisses it gingerly. He's kissed the back of so many hands before, but this is the first time he's done it out of genuine desire. Mongrang doesn't miss the flush across Jaha's neck and ears, and an emotion that Mongrang barely recognizes flashes across the other's face. It takes him a moment to realize that the country bumpkin is embarrassed.

"You—" He starts to say, but Mongrang sees a flash of brown hair and a ghastly green dress. His heart drops.

"Seriously?!" He whisper-yells. Jaha's gaze follows his eyes to the form of the woman near the edge of the dancefloor.

"Ignore her. She's not even looking over here." Jaha urges. "Focus on me." Mongrang obliges. His eyes really are stunning. "Okay?"

"Alright." Mongrang sighs. How can he say no to him? "Are you sure you can't scare her off?" Mongrang looks at him, almost pleadingly. Jaha laughs at this.

"Oh? Do you think I'm scary, shit dog?" He smiles. It's brilliant. And all of a sudden, it's just the two of them again. Souls twirling, twirling, twirling under the glittery ceiling.

"Terrifying." Mongrang plays along with a smile. "You frighten me more than anyone else I've ever met." The words tumble out, soft, genuine. And if only Jaha knew just how dangerous Mongrang finds him to his heart.

Jaha looks at him fondly, like he's the stupidest person he's ever met.

"Want to get out of here?" He asks. Mongrang nods. Jaha starts to move, and Mongrang is afraid that he'll let go. Please don't let go. But Jaha simply grips his hand tighter and drags him away from the dancefloor.

--

Now it's just the two of them.

The two men stare at each other for a moment. There's a pregnant pause, and Mongrang is pretty sure neither of them breathes.

Mongrang doesn't know why he does it. Perhaps it was the absurd amount of red wine he'd polished off over the course of the night, staining his lips blood-red. Or was it the two shots of glorified lighter fluid he poured down his throat? 

Could it have been the way that Jaha's hair seemed to glow in the silvery moonlight as they waltzed? People had stared; spoken about them in poorly concealed whispers; judgement heavy on their tongues. They danced in spite of it all.

Maybe it's the way that Jaha looked at him, and only him with those big clear eyes, in a way that made Mongrang want to claw them out -if only to keep them forever.

Gods. The man is beautiful. Mongrang knows this now and mentally chastises himself for not noticing it sooner. For never truly taking a moment to just look at him.

Something warm and pleasant settles in Mongrang's stomach. It heats like liquor, but it doesn't burn. Whatever it is claws its way up to Mongrang's chest and settles comfortably between his ribs. He's coming to the startling realization that it's not only the alcohol that has him intoxicated.

Mongrang still can't get over the way his skin buzzed as they interlaced their fingers and twirled away from the covetous man, and his imprudent daughter, and all of their respective responsibilities. He can't get over the way he felt when their hands touched. There was no urge to tear off his skin, to retire to the bathrooms and scrub himself raw. That was new. All of this is so new.

Mongrang doesn't know why he does it. All he knows is that he makes a decision he can't take back. 

He steps forward and lightly presses Jaha into the smooth stone wall, and Jaha looks at him with those ridiculously pretty eyes. The ones that held the stars themselves. His lips are parted in shock, and Mongrang thinks they look exceedingly soft and–

You know what? Fuck it.

Mongrang leans down and captures the shorter man's lips, guiding them into a tentative kiss. Jaha freezes, and goes completely rigid, hands flying up to press against Mongrang's chest. 

Mongrang makes to pull back. Worries that he might have gone too far. Gotten too greedy and ruined what has objectively been the best since who knows how long ago.

And there's that static again, threatening to drown out his thoughts. I am no better than that girl.

But then.

Then.

Jaha's fingers catch in his shirt, and he kisses him back. 

"Don't say I never did anything for you, shit dog."

Mongrang's heart soars, and he can't help the relieved laugh that escapes from his lips, right into Jaha's mouth.

The kiss quickly turns bruising. There's fury in the way their lips move together. They fight each other, even in this. Grabbing at each other's clothes and dragging their war-torn hands over every tiny bit of exposed skin. There is violence in everything they do.

Because what are they if not killers at heart?

© yeri (@yerrenica) ⬦ do not repost, copy, translate, nothing. lawd help me. possible part two coming.... smuut.... the only thing I'm apparently good at.

[yerrenica]

Pairing: Jaha Lee x Reader WC: 6.2k Tags: Eventual smut, semi-public smut. Prompt: Modern (Band) AU

"Fucking hell, you're messing up the tempo."

Jaha looked up from where he was hunched over one of his guitars, locking eyes with [Y/N]. "I'm not."

"You are." She frowned, plucking at the strings of her own. Pushing herself up with one hand, she readjusted her position on the floor so her back propped against the drum set behind her. "You're going too fast."

"I'm not." Jaha repeated, eyes shifting to the guitar in his hands. He settled his gaze upon one of the googly-eyed stickers on it. It was a sticker [Y/N] got him a few weeks ago—a googly-eyed rabbit. He's grown unusually fond of it, albeit at the moment it was the most irritating thing to look at.

"You're forgetting who's the teacher here."

"And you're forgetting who's in a band, and who isn't."

[Y/N] huffed. Jaha was the one in a band, and she was a mere fan... well, a childhood friend—turned guitar instructor—turned fan. [Y/N] rolled her eyes. "And who got you into this band, hm?"

"Shut it."

"You shut it." She muttered, grabbing a drumstick from the floor before chucking it across the room at Jaha, who quickly ducked with a mocking laugh.

"Dokgo will kill you if you lose his sticks, you dumbass."

"Good." Huffing, [Y/N] put both hands back on her guitar, positioning her fingers on the frets. "I'd rather die than have to keep helping you practise." She played a few chords experimentally as she spoke before looking back up at Jaha.

Jaha rolled his eyes. "If you stopped being such a prissy bitch we would've already been done with today."

"I'm not a... prissy bitch."

Jaha hummed, shifting his fingers on the strings. [Y/N]'s eyes followed the movement and the way Jaha's expression quickly turned into a smirk. "That's what a prissy bitch would say."

"Bastard." She scowled. "Bitch is an offensive word, anyway."

"Yeah, offensive to you."

"Oh my–" [Y/N] cut herself off with a sigh. "Can we just finish? I'm tired." She mumbled as her fingers flew over her guitar in a blur, quickly playing a sped-up version of the riff they were practising. Jaha glared at the woman.

"Fucking show off."

She laughed triumphantly. "You're just mad you're not as good as me."

"Quit kissing your own ass." Jaha enunciated, his eyes drifting back to his guitar. The sticker pissed him off even more right now. "And let's start from the beginning."

The woman nodded, keeping up her jubilant smirk. Experimentally playing the first few chords, Jaha set the pace. After a few beats, he began to quietly hum the lyrics, his voice getting louder at the chorus as [Y/N] watched him intently before starting the riff.

It was their best run-through yet—[Y/N]'s hand started to cramp as she changed chords too many times too quickly, but she pushed through, wincing slightly. This was one of the few reasons she wasn't in any band and instead kept her hobby strictly a hobby—her hands weren't suited for professional playing, even though she had the desire and the passion.

[Y/N] stopped her part (which wasn't hers as she wasn't in the band) as Jaha played his guitar solo, and [Y/N]'s gaze locked onto the way his fingers moved so fast against the frets and plucked the strings, playing the riff perfectly. He was good—he was great, and [Y/N] knew that even though she'd never admit it. Deep down, she envied him. The fact that he, who only started playing because she asked him to was in a band, but she wasn't. It gnawed at her heart most nights. Her hand trembled slightly as she cleared her throat quietly and snapped back out of her trance, helping him finish off the song.

They played the last part, and Jaha furrowed his brows in concentration as he finished. Sitting in silence, they looked at each other.

"That was good." [Y/N] said, taking her hands off the guitar. As she did, the cramp flared up again, and she clutched at her wrist with a grimace. "Shit—"

"You okay?" Jaha's voice sounded uncharacteristically soft at that moment. Looking over, she saw Jaha's concerned gaze, which made her heart race for a split moment. "Fucking hand cramp."

"Again?" Jaha grimaced. The woman nodded, biting her lower lip in discomfort, and Jaha quickly placed his guitar down before crawling over.

"Give it." He took her hand in his own larger one, gently spreading [Y/N]'s fingers as she hissed in pain. Massaging out the muscle, he pressed hard at her palm.

"Motherfu—..." [Y/N] bit down on her lower lip even harder as the pain shot through her wrist, before slowly subsiding. She was unusually pain intolerant when it came to hand cramps. She gasped, fingers twitching as relief flooded through her hand. "Dammit..."

Keeping his eyes on the woman's hand, Jaha parted his lips to speak. "Better?" [Y/N] gave a nod and a hum. Jaha's touch lingered on her hand for a moment longer, before his eyes travelled up to meet the woman's face. He was too close.

"You—" His expression hardened again before he sighed. "Quit doing that." He moved his thumb to brush over her lower lip. "You're going to split your lip open and bleed out."

Her breath almost hitched as she felt his touch on her lip, though she quickly composed herself, moving her head back, away from his hand. "That doesn't even make sense."

"Knowing you, you'd be the first to set a record for the dumbest way to bleed out." He hesitantly moved his hand away, almost as though he didn't wish to before backing away completely.

[Y/N] scowled before sighing. "Anyway, how do you not get cramps?" She shook her hand off as she asked. "You play harder stuff most of the time."

Jaha shrugged. "Dunno. Guess I'm just good with my fingers."

[Y/N] stared at him, her gaze travelling down to his long fingers. She felt a warmth pool in her stomach. "Yeah." She muttered quietly before shifting her eyes back down to her hand.

There was a momentary silence between the two as Jaha began placing his stuff back in its place. As he did so, he glanced over at [Y/N], who was still sitting on the floor, gazing down at her hand. He felt his heart ache for a split second as he observed her expression. Her eyebrows were drawn together in a stubborn furrow, creating a distinct line across her forehead. Her eyes, detached and muted, fixated on the skin she was picking at around her thumb.

He knew no words could comfort her, but the least he could do was reach out. "Any plans after this?"

She looked up to find him standing in front of her, his eyes scrutinizing her. "Oh, no." She quickly stood up, handing him her guitar so he could put it back into its rightful place.

"Let's go to the mall then."

She blinked a few times, drawing out the silence between them. "Why? Need something?"

Jaha cleared his throat, trying his hardest to keep eye contact. "Sunglasses." He said bluntly, albeit it was a lie. If he had told her that she seemed upset, and that's why he invited her out, she would've refused to go, but lying for such a reason didn't make him feel any less awkward.

"Sooo... you need my genius fashion advice?" She grinned, placing one hand on her hip.

"Alright. Forget it." He walked past her, going towards the door. The woman giggled as she followed him.

"Learn to take a joke, Jaha."

"Learn to stop being one."

The woman let out a dramatic gasp, jogging up to Jaha who was, for some reason, walking way too fast at the moment. She clutched her shirt where her heart was in a theatrical way. "Woah, low blow, low blow, low blow."

"You talk too much." He murmured as he picked up his skateboard.

"But you love listening to me talk." The woman spoke in a way that told Jaha that she was teasing, but he couldn't deny that statement either way. He simply huffed as he walked out of the studio with his skateboard in tow under his armpit.

"I thought we were heading to the mall?"

Jaha glanced at her before placing the skateboard down and positioning one foot on top of it. "We are."

"So what's with the board?"

"You can walk while I skate." He smirked before pushing himself forward and skating off further ahead.

The woman's mouth went slightly agape as she watched him. "You fucker..." She murmured. She was about to jog up to him once more but decided against it. After a few moments, Jaha made a U-turn and skated back up to [Y/N], stopping in front of her with a smirk.

"Hey." He gazed down at her shorter form. "Wanna try?"

"Skating?"

Jaha nodded. "Yeah."

"I can't." She hesitated, gazing down at the board on the ground. "I'll fall."

"I'll catch you." Jaha spoke as he moved his foot off the board, and moved to stand closer to [Y/N], placing his hand on her forearm.

She paused, contemplating it briefly before nodding, without actually having done any contemplating. "If I break something, it's your fault."

Giving her a grin, Jaha slightly tightened his grip around her forearm, dragging her further ahead so she was closer to the board.

"Step on." he said, gesturing to it. [Y/N] hesitantly did, wobbling a bit. She grabbed onto Jaha's shoulder, holding it firmly as the other touched her elbow to steady her. "Okay, good."

"Now... what?"

Jaha touched one of her legs, hands brushing against her bare skin. [Y/N] suppressed a shudder as she moved it into the right position. "You're gonna wanna use that leg to push yourself along, and then place it back onto the board in that position."

"I'll fall." She repeated, fingers digging into Jaha's shoulders harder. 

"Don't be a pussy, and you won't fall." His words were terse, but his touch was gentle as he held [Y/N]'s hand. Nonetheless, [Y/N] glared at him. Jaha gave her hand a squeeze, giving her a strangely reassuring smile which made the woman look away. "Go on."

She sighed, following the man's instructions. Jaha walked along with her as she skated slowly, tightening her grip on his hand every time she wobbled.

He watched fondly as he spoke with a smile. "You're getting it." [Y/N] looked over, and as she did she lost balance slightly. Jaha reached out before she could fall, placing a strong hand on her waist to stop her. "Keep going."

The woman pushed on, finding it difficult to concentrate. The fingers on her waist briefly tightened each time she was poised to fall, and she squeezed her eyes shut at the feeling. She hated this. The way the softness of his touch on her hand and waist made her feel. The way he was so extremely close to her. The way he smelled like a man. The way he sounded so husky right next to her ear. Everywhere she could feel his presence was on fire. Her whole body was burning up. She absolutely detested this. Screw whoever thought that putting her in this situation would be a great idea.

"Doing so well." Jaha breathed. His face was ridiculously close to [Y/N]'s, and she felt hot air hit her neck as he spoke. She pushed along again, and Jaha continued. "Yeah, just like that."

"Stop dirty talking into my ear." The woman hissed, shoving him away with her arm. The force of it pushed her back, and the board slipped from under her as Jaha let go. She fell to the hard ground, elbows scraping on the slightly rough surface. "Ow—"

Sitting up, she twisted her elbow around to see a slight graze.

"Shit, you good?" Jaha came up to her, kneeling down to take hold of her arm. 

"My ass hurts more, dickface."

"You're the one who pushed me." Jaha retorted, staring at her incredulously. 

"Because you were, fucking, all like, 'Oh yeah... just like that', and—" Jaha slapped a hand over her mouth to stop the lewd string of moans after noticing a few people giving them looks. Usually, he wouldn't give a shit if someone was staring, but for some reason, he didn't want anyone to hear [Y/N] like that, not even when the noises she was making weren't genuine.

"Okay, I get it." He said, forcing down a laugh. "I didn't sound like that, though."

[Y/N] pushed his hand away. "Yeah, you were worse."

Jaha stood up, kicking up his board before catching it with his hand. Pulling the woman to her feet, he smiled. "How's your arm?"

"Just a scratch." The woman frowned, rubbing at it. As she did, she noticed how hard Jaha was trying to control his smile, almost as though he was stifling laughs. Then the realization hit her.

"You— You did that on purpose!"

At long last, Jaha let out a series of laughs. "Sorry, I—" He breathed in after a few more chuckles. "I couldn't help myself."

"Oh my God, you are a little shit." She kicked his shin lightly, making Jaha giggle even more. A faint blush tainted her cheeks (be it from embarrassment or how Jaha's smile reached his eyes). She huffed softly, beginning to walk away.

Soon enough, they reached the mall, entering it with soft sighs as the cold air hit them, contrasting the scorching heat outside. [Y/N] hummed. "You said you need sunglasses?"

Jaha tilted his head slightly. "Huh?" Then he remembered the lie he had told the woman. "Oh, yeah."

They made their way into a clothes shop, and [Y/N]'s eyes darted around until they landed on a sunglasses rack in the corner. Grabbing Jaha's arm, she pulled him along to it.

"Try these on." She said, picking up a pair of aviators before turning to Jaha. She handed them over, watching as he slid them onto his face to look in the mirror. She nodded in approval. "They look good on you."

Jaha stared in the mirror for a moment, his face stoic, as always. "I look like a douchebag."

"You are a douchebag." The woman smiled, turning to look at him through the reflection in the mirror. "Now you're a chic douchebag."

"They fucking make me look like a high school bully." He curled his lip, taking them off his face from one handle. They bent a bit, and the woman quickly snatched them back to put them on the shelf carefully. 

"Weren't you? Back in high school?"

Jaha turned to her, raising his eyebrows. "Me?" He said, pointing to his face. "Is this the face of a bully?"

Scoffing, [Y/N] grabbed another pair, handing them to him. "There's a reason most people are afraid to talk to you."

"On the contrary." He paused for a moment. "I was the one getting beat up back then."

The woman paused before pushing the glasses on Jaha's face. "Did they stick your head in the toilets or shove you into lockers?"

Jaha couldn't help but chuckle softly, positioning the glasses on his face better. "No. I don't think that shit happens."

"If you say so." The woman handed yet another pair of sunglasses to Jaha. "Tell me their names and I'll fuck them up for you."

Rolling his eyes fondly, Jaha batted her away. "Yeah, okay. Not about to send you to your death, [Y/N]." After placing the glasses he had in hand back into their place, Jaha grabbed her face, sliding a pair of sunglasses over her eyes before stepping away.

He nodded. "Perfect."

[Y/N] turned back to the mirror, before turning back to Jaha with a scowl. "Fuck you." She reached up to take the cream-coloured middle-finger frames off her face, but Jaha quickly stopped her.

"I'll pay for them." He said desperately as he tried to hold in a laugh. He grinned as he spoke, and [Y/N] wanted to punch his perfectly straight teeth out. "Sound good?"

Folding her arms, she faced the mirror once more, letting out a sigh. "Fuck you." She repeated but made no attempt to remove them this time.

Jaha chuckled lightly, taking them off her along with his own pair of sunglasses, and they made their way to the counter to pay. He made no attempts at small talk with the cashier whilst [Y/N] stood there, staring at him, and before long they were walking out with a bag in hand.

"Put them on now." Jaha said, reaching in to grab them. His own glasses were perched on top of his head.

"Uh, no. No way in hell am I wearing those in public."

"You could style them." He suggested. He was clearly taunting her again with that snarky smirk on his face.

She stared at the way the frames had two middle fingers up, and she scrunched her nose. "I'll style them up your ass."

"Hm." Jaha smirked, placing the sunglasses on [Y/N]'s head. He was amused at the way the woman made no actual attempt to remove them. "Let's go eat."

[Y/N] felt her heart race. This was starting to seem like a date, rather than a simple outing between friends. Nonetheless, she agreed, and they began walking around the mall, looking for a suitable place to eat at. They walked past multiple restaurants, yet the one that caught Jaha's eye was...

Jaha looked around, eyes landing on a store in the corner of the mall. He halted. "Is that a... dick waffle shop?" He pointed to the bright pink sign.

The woman's mouth went slightly agape. "No fucking way." She laughed, grabbing his hand, and practically dragging him towards it. "Let's go check it out."

"What? Are you—" Before he could refuse and turn around, they had already entered inside. He groaned. "I don't want a dick waffle."

"Tough." The woman smiled as they looked around the 'restaurant'. Loud, obnoxious music played through the speakers that were placed in the corners of the ceiling, and the inside itself was covered in cheap-looking neon signs and plastic dick-shaped objects. Jaha reluctantly allowed himself to be taken to the front counter, and they both peered through the glass cabinet.

"What do you want?" The woman giggled.

"To leave."

She elbowed him in the side, and he stumbled a bit, catching himself on the glass. "Woah, didn't think you'd be so desperate." She mocked the way his hands landed on the glass, making Jaha groan in frustration and quickly step away.

He was glaring at her.

The woman ignored his lack of a response as her eyes drifted back to the waffles. "Anyway, I'll choose for you."

Jaha folded his arms, looking around as [Y/N] decided what to get. "Fucking hell... why is it so expensive?" She complained. "We'll share."

Jaha snapped his head back to look at her. "I'm not sharing a dick waffle with you."

[Y/N] gave him a look from the side. "You want your own?" Jaha was silent at that, and she grinned, turning to the guy at the counter to order; brown hair, and brown eyes—a stark contrast to the colourful dick waffles presented near him.

Jaha walked off to find a table as she ordered—eventually choosing a small corner table for the two of them. It was out of sight from the main part of the shop, which he thought was best. He'd rather not be seen in a place like this.

[Y/N] came over after a while holding a box, and she pulled out her chair to take a seat opposite Jaha. She opened the lid, and they both stared at it.

"That's fucking horrific." Jaha commented, looking back up at the grinning woman. He picked it up, holding it by the stick as white chocolate sauce began to drip down the sides.

"Looks tasty though." She spoke nonchalantly as she watched Jaha twirl it around, trying not to let stuff fall off it.

Jaha was silent for a moment, and then he smirked, locking eyes with the woman. "Open your mouth."

"What?" As she parted her lips to speak, Jaha moved forwards, forcing the waffle into her mouth. She made a noise of surprise that was muffled by the thing in her mouth, clutching at Jaha's arm as he laughed, lightly thrusting it inside. The woman gagged, and it was as though something darkened in Jaha's gaze. After a few moments, Jaha pulled away.

White chocolate mixed with saliva dripped down her chin, and she wiped at it with the back of her hand. Looking up, she glared daggers at the man, trying to catch her breath.

"What are you? A mental case?"

"Hey, you were the one who dragged me here." He said, still sneering. "Besides, that's what you're supposed to do with these." He pointed up to the small television in the corner that was displaying a couple doing the same thing. The woman shuddered.

"That's nasty. Vile."

Jaha handed [Y/N] a tissue, and she wiped the rest of her mouth.

"Still wanna eat it?" He asked as he placed the waffle back into the box. The woman observed it and then sighed dejectedly. "It's all soggy now."

"Oh, yeah." Jaha hummed, his face stoic. "Looks gross now."

"And whose fault is that?" Pushing up from the chair, [Y/N] placed a hand on her hip. The woman noted the way Jaha was looking at her and backed away a bit, her heart skipping a beat. "What?"

He snapped out of his trance and shrugged it off, walking past her as he tugged on the collar of his shirt slightly. He felt hot. "Nothing. Let's go."

The woman followed him, chucking the box with the waffle still inside into a bin, albeit reluctantly. "Can't believe I paid that much only to throw it away." She sighed.

Jaha pursed his lips, and after a moment of hesitation spoke. "Where do you wanna go? I'll buy you something."

She tilted her head slightly as she smiled. "What? You feel bad for shoving it down my throat?"

"Don't make it sound like that."

"That's what you did thou—" She made an 'o' shape with her mouth in realization. "Actually, there's a shirt I've been meaning to buy."

He nodded. "Alright. Let's go."

She quickly dragged him into yet another clothing store, walking further inside as her eyes scanned the racks and mannequins with a wide smile. He found it endearing how she seemed so excited over something as simple as a new shirt.

"You wanna buy... that?" Jaha asked, seeing as [Y/N] held up a blouse from its hanger. Jaha looked between it and the one she was currently wearing right then. "You literally have, like, ten million versions of that same shirt."

"It's a blouse. And I don't." She smiled, picking up a few other ones and shoving them into Jaha's arms. She then moved further ahead, looking through the shorts, and skirts the store had. It was summer, and wearing pants was not an option.

"Yes, you do."

"I do not. They're different brands." She idly commented as she searched through the racks. Grabbing a few garments out, she placed them onto the ever-growing mountain of clothes in Jaha's arms. He scowled, peering around it.

"They look the same." He scoffed. "And besides, I thought you were only going to buy one shirt, not the entire store."

She moved her hair away from her shoulder as she smiled. "That's your own misunderstanding."

"You literally said—" Before he could finish speaking, [Y/N] had already walked off. Jaha blindly walked after her, stopping as he placed the mountain of clothes on the counter. He heard the woman speak to a worker, and the clothes were quickly counted before they were let into the changing rooms. 

They both got into one stall, and Jaha dumped the pile onto the floor.

"Where the fuck are you gonna start with all this?" Jaha kicked at a blouse, and [Y/N] picked it off the floor.

"With this."

His mind froze for a moment, and he turned his head to the side. "I'll wait outside." He felt the back of his neck getting hotter as he reached for the door handle of the stall, narrowly opening it.

The woman nodded as the man walked out. "Aight."

He stood outside the stall, glaring at a few people that walked by. He had no reason to, he simply felt upset with himself. Why? Well, he didn't know. Perhaps it was because he was about to pay for a mountain of garments that were way too overpriced or maybe it was because he felt too hot, or perhaps it may even be because he's been feeling hot ever since they stepped foot into that dick-waffle shop. The image of white chocolate staining [Y/N]'s lips and chin was ingrained deeply into his mind, and the moment they shared in the stall just earlier only made it more visible. He bit his lower lip, lost in thought. His pants were starting to feel just a little too tight as he tried to push [Y/N]'s face away from his mind.

Thankfully, the knock behind him took him out of his trance. He turned on his heel. "Yeah?"

[Y/N]'s voice came from the other side of the door. "Can you, uh, help?" She asked quietly, shyly almost.

Jaha kept quiet for a moment, taking in a deep breath. He almost thought that the trance he was in was better than whatever this situation was. His thoughts he could, at least, push away.

"With what?"

"Uh, this blouse... The strings are on the back of it, so I can't really, um, reach it." The longer she spoke the quieter her words got.

Jaha held in another breath as he slowly pushed the door open, stepping inside. He was greeted by [Y/N] facing away from him, staring at him through the mirror in front of them as she held the blouse up with her hands placed neatly on her chest. The strings on her back were untied, and with a controlled expression, he reached out his fingers to take hold of them. His fingertips brushed against her bare back and he felt chills run down his spine. She felt so soft, too soft. As he worked his hands on the strings, he moved a foot closer, and in doing so he tripped over the pile of clothes on the floor, stumbling forward and consequently pushing the woman against the mirror. His hands moved to catch himself, and he found himself trapping the woman between himself and the mirror. His chest was pressed firmly against her back as the blouse fluttered to the floor and her hands scrambled to cover her breasts.

He took in a sharp breath, her scent enveloping his senses as he felt her rear pressing against his crotch. "Shit, sorry, I—" As he spoke, he caught sight of her expression in the mirror. Her gaze was lowered and her lower lip trembled negligibly. Pink tinted her cheeks, the type of pink that brought Constance Spry roses to mind. The compliance on her face made his heart race, and he noted how she made no attempt to push him away, the way her body slightly turned to face him, eyes looking up at him with an almost hopeful expression.

"It's okay." Her voice was quaint as her eyes darted to his lips for a brief second before moving back up to meet his eyes. "You smell nice." She commented.

Leaning in closer, his voice came out almost as a whisper. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She breathed out softly. The air was thick with anticipation as they inched closer, their bodies magnetically drawn to one another. With a gentle touch, their hands intertwine, their fingers finding solace in each other's warmth. The kiss begins slowly, a delicate exploration of lips. They meet softly, barely a whisper, as they savour the initial contact. Time seemed to slow down, each second stretching into eternity as their lips brushed against each other's, testing the waters of craving.

A delicate dance ensued as their mouths moved in harmony. Jaha tilted his head slightly so their lips would meld together more comfortably. Their tongues tentatively met, tracing the contours of each other's lips before diving deeper.

Their breaths became mingled, their hearts beating in syncopation as the kiss deepened. Lips pressed more firmly as Jaha pushed her back against the mirror. The woman let out a small noise of surprise that was quickly swallowed, and fingers threaded in her hair as Jaha's other hand went down to her waist. After moments he detached his lips from her mouth to move onto her neck.

[Y/N] gasped, feeling her shorts being pulled down. She grabbed Jaha's arm, and the other pulled away slightly to look at her.

"Jaha, what are you—" She panted, wiping the string of saliva from her lips. "We—We're in public."

Jaha went back to mouth at her neck, and [Y/N] let her head fall back against the mirror. She could feel the smirk on Jaha's face against her skin. "Guess you're gonna have to be quiet, then."

A wave of arousal crashed over her body as her shorts fell to the floor along with her underwear, and she stepped out of them before kicking them away. Jaha pulled back from her neck, shoving two fingers inside the woman's mouth.

"Lick." He said, and she did—swirling her tongue around them as they locked eyes. Jaha pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before pulling them out, and [Y/N] gripped onto his shoulders.

"Are you gonna..." [Y/N] felt a hand on the underside of one of her thighs as it was hiked up, held firmly by Jaha. "You're gonna just fuck me here?"

"Yeah." He spoke breathily. He placed his wet fingers against [Y/N]'s clit, and the woman let out a gasp at the coldness. She studied Jaha's expression carefully, tightening her grip on his shoulders. Jaha shifted his eyes back to her face, moving his fingers against her clit as her nails dug into his shoulders. He couldn't describe the feeling in his gut, it was swimming in ardour. She was simply perfect.

"Fuck..." She felt her knees getting wobbly, and Jaha was quick to notice this. He hiked her leg up further, holding her in place as he continued his ministrations on her swollen clit. After a few moments, he moved his fingers down her folds, smearing them with her wetness.

He shot a glance over his shoulder to make sure the door was properly locked before locking eyes with her flushed expression.

"You okay, princess?" He smirked, his tone teasing as he worked to undo his pants, pulling them down just enough to reveal his boxers.

She glared at the name, digging her nails further into his shoulders. "Don't gross me out." Although she said that, she couldn't tell whether her ears were hot due to arousal or embarrassment. "But yes. I'm okay."

Her gaze lowered as she observed him struggle to pull down his boxers with one hand. She chuckled at the way he clicked his tongue. He was clearly getting impatient, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. Reaching her hands towards the waistband of his boxers, her fingers brushed against his abdomen. Jaha stiffened slightly at her touch, a faint pink painting his cheeks.

Once the boxers were pulled down to his thighs, [Y/N] shifted her eyes away from his dick. She felt undeniably embarrassed.

Jaha moved her leg up further. "You sure this is okay?"

The woman smiled. "Yea—" Before she could properly get her words out, Jaha pushed inside. This man was far too impatient.

The woman scrambled at his back, face screwed up in pleasure and slight discomfort as Jaha didn't stop until he was fully in all the way. He held [Y/N]'s face with one hand, tilting it up so they made eye contact.

"Don't want people to hear." He said, pressing a hand firmly against the other's mouth. "Imagine what the public would say."

The idea of being caught made her legs shake as Jaha pulled out, slamming back inside with bruising force. The woman braced a hand against the mirror as her spine dug into it, and his eyes rolled back at a direct hit to the bumpy spot inside.

Jaha created a steady pace, fucking her further into the mirror as the grip on her upper thigh tightened. 

"I wish the others could see you right now." Jaha whispered, leaning closer to her ear as he bit at her skin. "So fucking pliant, ready to just be filled whenever."

The woman's mouth hung open under Jaha's hand, and she felt herself drooling onto it as she was pounded into the mirror behind her. She'd never had sex at this angle before, and the way Jaha's cock rubbed inside her with each thrust made her limbs tremble.

Jaha sensed that she was getting weak, so he hooked his hands under her thighs, picking her up, and holding her against the mirror as [Y/N] wrapped her legs around his waist. Once she did, he moved one hand back to her mouth. Continuing the pace, Jaha groaned softly as he felt himself growing closer to climax. She felt her body thrum with arousal as her fingertips tingled, and Jaha let out a low groan, thrusting deeper inside.

Suddenly, there was a sharp knock at the door, and Jaha slowed his movements. [Y/N]'s head spun, and it took her a second to realise that someone was on the other side.

"Excuse me?" A worker's voice came, and Jaha turned his head slightly to the side. "Just wondering if you need any assistance? You've been in there for a while."

The woman saw a glint of something in Jaha's eye, and the hand against her mouth was removed. [Y/N]'s eyes widened slightly as Jaha thrust in again—this time slower—and it took everything in her not to moan out loud.

He locked eyes with the woman and tilted his head towards the door behind them. He wanted her to speak, and reassure the worker.

"I'm good." She gasped out as she felt Jaha continue to push inside. [Y/N] bit down on the back of her own hand hard enough to draw blood as she tried her best not to let any noises slip past her lips. "Just got a lot of clothes to try— try on... here."

He snapped his hips again, grip on [Y/N]'s legs tightening as he looked at her fucked-out expression with a smirk. Picking up the pace slightly, he watched as the woman hit her head back against the mirror, eyebrows furrowed as her mouth hung open. He was so very large and male, and excessively male creatures always took her over the edge.

"Let me know if you need anything." The worker at the door said, and there were the sounds of slight shuffling as their shadow disappeared. 

"You—" The woman started, and Jaha cut her off with another hard thrust. A string of moans fell from her lips as she came undone, and she scratched down Jaha's clothed back as he fucked her, watching as she became a broken mess under his touch.

Jaha let out a low whine near [Y/N]'s ear. "Can I..."

She nodded. With one last thrust, Jaha's eyes shut close as he came inside [Y/N]. His trembling hand worked on the woman's clit as he rode out his orgasm, trying his hardest not to let any lewd noises slip past his lips. It didn't take long for the woman to come undone under Jaha's touch. She felt her thighs tremble slightly, and Jaha held himself up against the wall. They caught their breaths, and he pulled out, gently setting [Y/N] back onto her feet.

She immediately wobbled, and Jaha caught her. His eyes trailed down, watching as his cum leaked down the inside of her legs.

"Shit." He clicked his tongue as he snapped out of his thoughts, grabbing the blouse that he was supposed to be helping her put on from the floor to wipe her clean with. The woman immediately gasped when she saw the cum stain the blouse.

"You're an idiot." She whispered, observing the way he cleaned her up. "They'll still have to scan it. Touch it, Jaha."

"Hey, I'm only using the edge of it." He tapped her inner thigh with the edge of the blouse to emphasize his justification.

She scrunched up her nose, fighting down a smile. "You're disgusting." Her words carried no real weight. She knew that because her heart was beating out of her chest at the way he was taking care of her.

Jaha laughed softly. "Listen, I'm working with what I have." He seemed outwardly happy, and this made the woman chuckle alongside him.

Once he was done and back on his feet, the woman pinched at his side. "That was a stupid fucking stunt you pulled when the worked came." Jaha pushed her hand away as she did this, smiling smugly. "Are you saying you didn't enjoy it?"

"Well..." Her cheeks tinted red as she began dressing up. "The stunt, no, but—"

"But the sex yes?"

She gave no response to that, except for placing the pile of the store's clothes into his hands. She smiled. "I might answer if you pay for all of this."

[yerrenica]

OMG I really loved your yi zaha content . Can you please make a fluff oneshot of him

[Y/N] has a problem, you see. It is a very big, very difficult problem, and it involves one raven-haired martial artist and the fact that their heart beats a tad bit too quickly when news of the man reaches their ears. Or when the man talks to them. Or when the man—

Whenever Jaha Lee was in a 10-meter radius, really. 

See, this was an extremely large problem, because Jaha, like the bastard he is, was becoming too much of a distraction for them. 

How was he being a distraction, you ask?

Well, [Y/N] would be happy to rant tell you. Firstly, whenever there was a commotion outside, [Y/N] would instantly get distracted and just have to check whether or not it was Jaha creating trouble again, which was a far cry from before, back when they just went about their days not caring about a thing in the world.

And another thing: the colour red was associated with Jaha far too much. A flash of red could appear in the corner of [Y/N]'s eyes, and they just couldn't help but glance at it to see if it was the man, and ignore the sag of their shoulders when they confirmed it wasn't. It wasn't fair, really. Jaha shouldn't be going around spilling blood everywhere. His violent tendencies didn't do good things for [Y/N]'s heart. 

...

[Y/N] lied. Jaha shouldn't stop. Jaha's fighting abilities were too attractive.

And there exactly lies the problem. Jaha's sword skills were beautiful, Jaha himself was beautiful, and [Y/N] had no choice but to confront a problem they weren't ready for; to answer a question that they had absolutely none of the answers to. 

[Y/N] blinked, going through their train of thought once more before they pursed their lips, feeling a sort of second-hand offence for what they had just thought. Jaha wasn't just beautiful. Honestly, [Y/N] could look through a thesaurus and they still wouldn't be able to find a word good enough to describe Jaha and how perfect he was. 

[Y/N] sat in his chambers and stared blankly.

Before they knew it, they held a thesaurus in their hands. 

Then they slammed the book against their head without hesitation.

Oh my god, they were so screwed.

After a few moments of [Y/N] laying flat on the floor with the book over their face, the doors to their chambers burst open, and in comes Hongshin with her signature smile. "Dinner's rea— what are you doing?" She stared blankly at [Y/N].

"I might just challenge Jaha to a death match."

Hongshin sighed. This wasn't the first time she stumbled upon [Y/N] dramatizing the hell out of their feelings for Jaha. "Absolutely do not do that, you idiot." She moved to grab her friend by the arm and drag them across the floor to the dining area. Along the way, they kept talking about how being killed by Jaha Lee would be a "thank you" worthy act. Hongshin, of course, decided to tune it out.

Once there, [Y/N] stood up with a deep exhale and sat down. They looked around, noticing that their Master was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Jaha?"

Seongtae chimed in. "Said he wanted to eat his dinner outside or something."

And just like that, [Y/N] was back on their feet, setting off to look for Jaha. The first place they thought to look at was the roof—you could always find Jaha cultivating there, and it was a nice and chilly place during the evening. Once they did not find him, they thought of the plum blossom tree residing near the training grounds. Jaha frequented it a lot, so surely he would be there.

And he was; looking far more beautiful than he should have... given his messy hair and bad posture. He was sitting under the tree, with a bowl of rice in hand, eating away with a nonchalant look on his face. The chilly evening wind gave him an almost enchanting appearance as it tousled the man's hair. The pale stars were sliding into their places. The whispering of the plum blossoms was almost hushed. All about them it was still and shadowy and sweet. It was at times like this that [Y/N] felt their difficulties about having feelings for Jaha melting away and getting weaker to the warmth that they brought. To be able to look at someone, and see them as one's own world was a pleasant feeling. It made one forget about the real world for a brief second.

"You're staring."

"You mind?" [Y/N] asked as they went to sit next to Jaha, legs crisscrossed.

With a mouth full of rice, Jaha mumbled. "No. You look cute."

"What?"

Swallowing his food, he turned to look at [Y/N]. "I said you look like a sack of shit when you do. So yes, I do mind."

There was silence.

"I should start spitting in your food, great brother. More cholesterol would do you good." [Y/N] scoffed, eyebrows furrowing as they looked away from Jaha, focusing their gaze forward.

Jaha's hand, which was moving the chopsticks to his mouth, stopped for a moment. He pursed his lips. That was not what he meant to say. He did not mean it at all. It simply came out on instinct. The moment he heard [Y/N]'s words of confusion, it was as if his mind registered it as disgust and acted out in self-defence. And now there was an awkward silence between them.

He glanced at [Y/N], observing their sullen expression. Why on earth was this bothering him so much? When did he start caring about little things like this? These questions irked the crap out of him, but maybe that's just what happens when you live long enough. Everything's so damned irksome, and irrational.

Finally, he brought the chopsticks to his mouth. "Do that and I'll kill you." His eyes furrowed as he chewed, realizing what he just said. Why on God's green earth was he threatening them now? Did he have any control over his mouth? He felt like screaming.

Quickly, trying to regain control of his words, he blurted out. "And besides, aren't you way too close to me?"

"That's because I'm this close to shoving my fist down your throat." [Y/N] muttered, glaring at Jaha, their appearance resembling that of an angry cat. Now this was strange as well. Jaha didn't feel disrespected, not in the slightest. Rather, he felt amused, thrilled even to have [Y/N] talk to him like this.

Nobody could tell whether they were flirting or fighting right now.

"Oh, I'd love to see you try." Jaha urged them on, leaning in closer as he smirked, his bowl of rice now seated beside him. [Y/N] observed him momentarily, before a smirk graced their features. With swift motions they placed their hands behind them on the concrete, and moved their upper body slightly up, their leg going for Jaha's throat. Their movements were quick and precise, and only because Jaha was Jaha did he evade them, leaning back just enough to let [Y/N]'s leg miss him entirely. Pressing their body weight on their hands seated behind them on the concrete, they did a backflip, now standing up before Jaha with a wide smile.

"Dodging? That's all?"

Jaha smiled slightly, and in an instant he found himself behind [Y/N], reaching out his hand towards them, but to his surprise, they ducked before leaping further away from Jaha.

"Now look who's dodging."

"It's more shameful for you since you're supposed to be the leader of this sect, great brother." [Y/N] held their hands behind their back, snickering at the sight of the slight contortion of Jaha's eyebrows. "But regardless... aren't you missing something?" They moved one hand from behind their back, revealing Jaha's red hair tie draped over their fingers. Jaha's eyes widened slightly, his hand instinctively moving behind his head to touch his hair, only to realize that his hair was swaying freely behind him. He focused his gaze back on [Y/N], who was standing before him with a triumphant smile.

His heart skipped a beat.

"How did you..."

[Y/N] chuckled. "It'd take hours to explain."

Jaha would listen to them for hours.

He quickly moved his feet, reaching for the hair tie in [Y/N]'s hands, only to see their hand move away from his reach, and their entire body along with it. Their robes being rocked by the subtle waft made each of their moves seem elegant, which spurred Jaha even more. This wasn't a serious battle. It was not a showcase of strength; it was more of a dance being guided by the swaying winds. Each of their movements through the roofs of the place, the branches, and the bases guided their bodies closer to each other in a chase of longing. This was never about the ribbon, but combat was the language they spoke the best, so how else would they ever showcase their desire for one another?

Their gazes locked as they moved with precision. Jaha always wondered what crossed their mind whenever they looked at him in such a candid way.

"Great brother, is the food you ate slowing you down?"

A flicker of amusement danced in Jaha's eyes. "I'm merely humouring your fickle attempts at evading me." His body was close to theirs as they moved on top of a roof, his chest meeting [Y/N]'s as Jaha moved his feet quicker, purposely placing a foot behind theirs so they'd fall over on their back, but Jaha was quick to catch them, his hand placed intimately over their back as he gazed into their eyes.

It was the beating of their hearts that made it seem as though time stopped. Jaha's free hand rested on theirs, sliding the ribbon past their fingers. "Caught you."

A single question ran through Jaha's mind. Why them? Why after all these years, after two lifetimes, after hundreds of people met, did he fall for them? Why not for all the others? What made them so different from everyone else before them?

But it was simple.

Why would he choose anyone else when [Y/N] exists?

Seeing the slight shift in [Y/N]'s gaze, he wasn't certain whether it was disdain or reciprocation of his unspoken feelings, so he decided to pull away, steadying them back on their feet as he shifted his gaze to the side.

"Good effor—"

Before he could finish speaking, [Y/N]'s hands were cupping his face, and his gaze was turned back on theirs.

"What a coward." They said through flushed cheeks and slightly furrowed brows. Their lips met his in a tender kiss. Without much thought Jaha's hands found themselves behind [Y/N]'s back, pulling them closer. He touched them, and it felt as if the stars were dancing upon their skin. It was a collision of desire, a meeting of souls, as their mouths moved in a synchronized rhythm. Their kiss was both tender and fervent, a passionate dance of exploration. They lost themselves in the intoxicating taste and texture of each other as if discovering a long-lost treasure.

Their bodies pressed closer, their hearts pounding in sync with the fervour of their embrace. [Y/N]'s fingers entwined in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that burned through their veins. Jaha let out a low groan at the tug of his hair. He pulled away slightly, breaking the string of saliva which connected their lips for a mere moment. He smiled.

"You're eager."

"And you're without your ribbon once again." With a playful grin, they moved away from Jaha, showcasing his ribbon tangled between their fingers once more. "Catch me again and I may consider rewarding you again."

Jaha wasted no time in going after them once more, his soft laughter filling the moonlit sky. He didn't mind catching them again, and again, for as many times as he had to, if it meant that they'd stay in his arms for just a moment longer.

[yerrenica]

Why is he such a diva lol

[yerrenica]

Hear me out. This has been stuck in my head for a while now. Like. THIS MAKES SENSE RIGHT? I'M NOT CRAZY, RIGHT?

[lamentingocean]

This made me orgasm all over my bed holy fuck

Jaha Lee x Reader: Eyes on us

Summary: Jaha is possessive over you, but that doesn’t stop him from fucking you in front of his men.

Pairing: Jaha Lee/Yi Zaha x female reader

WC: 9.3k

Warnings/Tags: Humiliation, public sex, dubious consent, slight non-con, choking, degradation, begging, blood, hair-pulling, denied orgasm, multiple orgasms, fingering, oral sex, biting.

Rating: 18+

Disclaimer: This is fiction. This is a made up scenario, that doesn’t really fit Jaha’s character in its entirety, however, I’ve always wanted to write something like this, and I just used Jaha for it. This is a BIT out of character, but nonetheless, I hope you guys enjoy it all the same.

In hindsight, you should have thought more about your decision.

Visiting the Master of the Low Down without his knowledge was a poor choice. He had warned you beforehand that the situation in the sect has gotten dire, that strong Masters have started launching attacks on the Low Down. You know little of the Masters he spoke of but he told you that they are not above hurting the people close to him, even if they are innocent, just to get Jaha to bow down to them.

And yet there you were, encompassed in your own thoughts and emotions, standing before a seething Jaha whose scathing glower scorched against your skin. The ambience felt heavy, and even his disciples – those who stayed behind at the sect to help Jaha should there be the need – stood in a line rigidly by the doorway, sights set forward but without grazing the form of your lover.

Keep reading

[yerrenica]

[yerrenica]

Jaha Lee x Reader: Remarks

Summary (not really): "♿" it’s a surprise tool that'll help ya’ll later

Pairing: Jaha Lee/Yi Zaha x female reader

Genre: porn with some plot...

WC: 3k

Rating: 18+, but literally no one cares, so just read it with your lips sealed.

Jaha Lee had always been a busy man. Whether it was because he had to deal with some nobodies that dared to face him, or it was because he had to manage the Low Down, and its people. Needless to say, he was someone who both had too much time on his hands, and none at all. There was always a scheme, a plan, an idea in his mind. He was always out, and about, dealing with one thing or the other. So much so, that he almost never had the time for you. It wasn’t much of a problem at first, since you understand that he is someone that is necessary for the world of Martial Arts. He had his own ambitions, and you were supportive of them, but sometimes... It got lonely. And sometimes, some remarks would slip past your lips without you even noticing.

This time it was: I might as well just go out with someone who does have free time.

It was supposed to be just a simple remark that would tick him off, and perhaps, you know, have him pay attention to something other than cultivating, and it most definitely was not meant to have you standing in front of a mirror, with Jaha right behind you with his arms around your waist. You were not supposed to be getting undressed right now!

“Is bothering me entertaining to you?” He spoke in a hushed tone as he carefully traced his hand from your waist up to your chest, sliding it into your hanfu, and touching your breast.

Your breath hitched in your throat. “I was bothering you? Didn’t realize.”

Jaha clicked his tongue. “How boldly you lie.” He was looking at you through the mirror, right into your eyes. But soon enough, he closed them, leaning down to your neck, which was now slightly exposed. He took his time with it, leaving gentle kisses, then harsher ones, but keeping a hand on your jaw in order to ensure that you would see everything in the mirror. The big mirror, at that; not full-body, but above the middle area of your thighs. It was enough to have you embarrassed as you saw yourself grow red in the face. See how the whimpers, whines, if Jaha bit down, escaped your mouth.

Even now, Jaha was teasing you. Always such a prick, that man. But you supposed you couldn’t blame him. He was always the victim of your jokes, it was only fitting for him to take revenge on you.

But soon enough, his observant self picked up on your annoyance, quickly using his free hand to play with your nipple.

“Be patient, and watch. You wanted me to pay attention to you, right? So here I am, thoroughly paying attention to every part of you.” He opened his eyes to look at your flushed expression in the mirror.

“My eyes, my hands,” He emphasized with a twist to your nipple, causing you to let out a moan. “Even my mouth, are all paying attention to you.” Jaha finished his sentence with a harsh suck to a sensitive spot on your neck, drawing out more lewd sounds from you.

“Surely, that's enough for you, isn't it?”

You both knew it wasn’t.

Your breath quickened. “Jaha, please.. D-Don't do this, I’m sorry for teasing you... So please... y-you can touch me, anywhere... Not just here, please..!” Little whines of begging escaped your throat as you touched his hand, which was still on your chest.

You were humiliated by the fact that this was all it took to get you so worked up. But it was Jaha. Inexperienced, but observant. As uncertain as Jaha was, he was listening, watching, paying attention to every reaction your body had in order to learn what you liked. What spots made you shudder, where to kiss and where to bite, when to twist, pull, rub, or flick. And he has spent enough time with you to memorize them all.

“Jaha? Since when did you have permission to call me so casually? Aren’t I your Master?” Upon finishing his sentence, he once more twisted your nipple, this time harder than the previous time. His grip on your jaw also tightened, making sure you did not look away.

This man was so difficult, every single time. Usually he didn’t mind your casual tone with him, but at times like these he always felt the need to have complete control over you. Childish to the bone.

“Jaha, please— must I?”

“Sorry, didn’t hear you.” He said as he bit into your neck, making you slightly wince.

“Ja—”

Not removing his teeth from your neck yet, he bit harder, making you let out a hiss as you furrowed your brows. “Agh— M-M... Master Jaha, please...” Your voice got quieter the longer you spoke. You felt your cheeks burning from the embarrassment, and seeing yourself in the mirror only made the shame worse.

You felt him remove his teeth from your neck, and smirk, before looking back into the mirror, right into your eyes. “Good job. Now tell me... Where do you want me to touch you, [Y/N]? Of all the places on your body, which one should I pay the most attention to?”

Jaha released the hand from your nipple, allowing it to be moved lower, and lower, until you gasped while making small thrusts into his hand.

“Here?”

“Please, y-yes, yes, please, h-here, right here.” His hand was gently placed between your legs, rubbing you through the cloth of your attire.

Jaha smiled. “Bend over, [Y/N].”

You were, of course, quick to do as he instructed, and bent over, supporting yourself on the wooden counter.

Jaha let go of you as he watched you intently. Then, in a slow, teasing pace, he took off his pants. With this, he took his time too, just to put your impatient self to the test even more than he already has. He then moved to your hanfu, carefully loosening it, and lifting the skirt up.

Now, with both of you half-undressed, he could go further. He'd start easy though. He enjoyed the chase.

A hand back on your jaw, as Jaha’s other hand slid its fingers into your mouth, quietly telling you to suck and finding amusement in the shiver you gave as a reaction.

“Do you see yourself, [Y/N]? The way you look while doing something so perverse? I'm sure you can imagine what you'd look like with something else in your mouth, can't you? I'll bet that that's what you think when you suck on my fingers.”

You could only whine in response as the urge to be touched grew stronger.

“Well? Is it? Don’t act like you can't speak just because your mouth is full.”

You replied with a muffled 'mhmm' and a slight nod.

“I thought so. Such a good girl, aren't you?” He spoke quietly.

Just hearing that was enough to make you whine louder, to make you squirm and whine once more as Jaha took his hand off of your jaw to hold you in place.

“Don’t make me take it back. Just look at me and relax for a moment.”

As the three fingers left your mouth, Jaha’s took over, keeping you occupied as he gently rubbed your labia, sending shivers down your spine. Then he moved his finger in circles around your clitoris, having you moaning out his name in no time. Before long, a finger slowly worked its way into your vagina. All of the noises produced by you were let out right at Jaha, a perfect way to tell him how it made you feel, when to pause and wait for you to relax, and when to insert another. With two fingers slowly stretching you out, you leaned more into Jaha, becoming more and more dependent on him to keep yourself up. You... well, you hadn't done this with someone that wasn't yourself, and even then, you never really went further than two fingers, as badly as you wanted to.

So when Jaha put in a third, quickly, stretching and searching and oh, fuck, there it is..

“Fuck, f-fuck, fuck—! J-Jaha, p-please, I-I need it now, I can’t take it, come on..nnggh..! Please, put it in, Gods, just p-put it in...!”

You continued to spill more and more of your erotic pleads, especially as Jaha showed no mercy with how much he was stimulating such a sensitive spot. However, he suddenly stopped. At this, you let out a long whimper.

“Good grief, you ought to keep your mind straight. Calling me Jaha again? Really? Do you want me to stop?”

“N-No, nono... I’m sorry... Master... Please, please.” You whined out as small tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. You looked at him through the mirror, and his heart couldn’t help but skip a beat at the sight of your dishevelled appearance. He bit his lower lip before cursing silently under his breath.

Jaha could only ignore his own urges for so long. Swiftly did his fingers leave you. He quickly leaned you forward, even closer to that mirror, and used his right hand to tightly keep both of your hands behind your back. His left was still on your face, preventing you from looking away.

And before you could question it, you moaned disgustingly at the feeling of him sliding in. So, so, slowly, a mixture of teasing you and being gentle, and it brought all sorts of whimpers from your lips.

It felt like a never-ending rush, like there's always more to fit, more cock ready to fill you up. And the worst part is... you can see it all. You can see the drool run down your chin as you felt more and more full, and barely noticed the twitch of your vagina when Jaha’s finally in, letting out a shaky sigh by your ear.

You whined, desperately, loudly, unable to squirm in order to calm the embarrassment rushing through you at that moment. All the feelings bubble up and come out as noise after noise, moan after moan.

You want to touch yourself, you want to feel yourself, but your hands are restrained too tightly for you to move them. Nonetheless, you could not focus on that want for too long. Jaha wasn't slow when fucking you after all, and you weren't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

Jaha Lee.

He watched as it all happened in front of him. Watched as you moaned loudly, like the whore that you are, groaning and whimpering at the soft praise muttered in your ear. Jaha’s grip on your hands tightened, using it to pull you back harder, faster, as if he couldn't get enough of you. As if, despite being as deep as he could be in you, he still needed more.

Maybe, just maybe, he could get you to make even dirtier sounds, with just the right angle, he could–

"M-Master! O-Ooh, fuck, fuck, y-yes, r-right there, right…hhg..ohh..mnnn..! Th-There…there, the..nng… Ja... Ha..!”

Oh, Gods, this woman would be the death of him.

As your speech deteriorated, devolving into nothing but the sounds of a slut, you trembled more and more, struggling to keep yourself up with the pleasure filling your body. Jaha praised and degraded you in the same breath, pressing filthy kisses right behind your ear, down your neck, and anywhere he pleased. In-between kisses were his own sounds of pleasure, albeit nowhere near as loud as yours. Honestly, it would not have surprised you if someone had already heard the two of you.

Louder, and louder, as you made pitiful attempts to warn Jaha about how close you were to cumming all over yourself, Jaha gave one command as his hand left your chin.

“If you look away from that mirror…I'll stop.. G-Got it..?”  

His own attempts at keeping some sort of composure were laughable, but the breathy voice in your ear made you shiver once more as you nodded.

If only you knew why Jaha moved his hand.

It hit you like a train; just as your eager cunt was rubbed by Jaha, timed almost perfectly with those thrusts that won't stop hitting that spot, and fuck, you can see all of it, you can feel all of it, you’re—

Just like that, and you let out the most unrestrained, intemperate moan of your life; loud enough to be heard from who knows where. You stared at your lascivious face in the mirror, with your legs trembling as Jaha kept going.

It's too much, it's far too much, you honestly feel like you’ll die if Jaha doesn't stop soon, but Gods it gets worse. His hand presses down on you harder, and you nearly lunge forward at the sudden feeling, followed by a sharp gasp as you feel Jaha’s cum fill you up.

You two are still, unmoving as you remain panting. Jaha’s hand pulled you closer by the waist as he brushed the stray hair away from your face with his other hand.

Jaha looked you in the eyes. “Take it all off.”

“Wh-What?” You asked, confused and still in a daze.

“Your clothes. Take them all off.”

You slowly turned around to look at him, finally talking to him face-to-face, abeit you could hardly call it talking. You were far too out of it to talk normally. “What for?”

Jaha narrowed his eyes down at you, and placed his hand on your cheek, caressing it gently. He then smirked, and oh God, that smirk sent a chill down your spine. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He tugged at your attire, clearly showing his impatience.

You sigh, still trying to regain control over your breathing. “Let me have some water first at least...”

“We could go to the sink, and you could drink the water from there while I fuck you from behind.” He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

You scoffed. “Only you would ask me to act like a dog.”

“Don’t you already?”

Your eyes widened as a pale pink coated your cheeks. “You shuck piece of—“

Jaha only laughed at your reaction, bringing your face closer to his and kissing you. He wasn’t huge on kissing, so whenever he did kiss you, you took it graciously. You kissed back instantly, you even wanted to bruise him so he’d never forget about you.

Between the endless onslaught of kisses, he whispered. “Take it off.”

You obliged, albeit not without letting out a few grunts of frustation. It was as if he enjoyed watching your annoyed expression.

Once you were undressed, he sent a smile your way, before taking your hand into his and leading you to the bed. He sat down, and then pulled you by the hand so you’d sit on his lap, facing him this time.

Your head flopped forwards into Jaha’s chest. This position was more cozy, and you could feel his body heat. You were in comfortable silence for a while before you spoke up.

“Master Jaha… stop messing with me…”

Your hand found Jaha’s cock and lazily stroked him, making the man tilt his head back with an irresistibly sweet moan. You whispered into his ear. “Make me come again, please… ”

“Then show me.” He demanded, “Show me how much you need it, how much you want it.”

Jaha always enjoyed having you beg for him. Too much, some would say... You, you are the some that would say. You couldn’t help but bite your lower lip in frustraion. Jaha was being too cruel teasing and playing with you like this. You bit down on Jaha’s neck, his collarbone and earlobe. His gaze is heavy as he looks at your blissful expression, all fucked out and needy, aching for him.

“Let me see you cry from how much you want my cock… let me see you beg for it. Maybe then I’ll give you what you need.” He spoke quietly. He knew all the ways to get you over the edge.

He wanted you to ache for him, for you to become addicted to his cock.

Your whole body shivered, and you tried to fuck yourself down on Jaha, but the mad demon wasn’t moving and kept you still.

“Master please, fuck me... Are you really going to make me beg for your attention again? How many times must I tell you that I need you? That I need you inside me, deep within me, so deep that I can see you poking out from my stomach... Please. I love you, I love you so much… I need you. Please.”

You felt Jaha grow harder, bigger inside of you. You smirked. Using the ‘I love you’ card always worked.

“You’re too greedy.” Jaha whispered.

“It’s all your fault. You wanted this.”

You felt proud, for once. But then Jaha took away all those thoughts just as fast as he made them. ”Hmm, you take my cock so well. I suppose you deserve to be rewarded for how good you’ve been.”

You nodded frantically, eyes glistening. “Yes yes, please I’ve been good, please-nnnhh!”

As you were right on his lap, it was easy to let you bounce on his cock. In this position, gravity did most of the work, and Jaha was able to hit so deep inside you, even deeper than before. One particular hard thrust had you seizing up, your vagina clenching and twitching tightly around Jaha’s length.

“Yessss yesyes yes oh fuck-!” You moaned, hands clawing at Jaha’s back to find any sort of perch. You were absolutely gone, lost in the pleasure, it was so intense, it was too much- no, it was perfect.

Everything was perfect when you were in his arms. You hugged Jaha’s head into you chest, and felt him trail kisses down your sternum area. Jaha dug his nails into your hips, helping you bounce all the better. He looked up. He could see that you were, once again, in a daze, overwhelmed by the pleasure. Although the pleasure was just as prominent for him, only your declaration of love was swirling through his mind.

He pulled you into another kiss, whispering. “I love you too.”

[yerrenica]

Jaha Lee x Reader: Early Morning

Summary (not really): You give Jaha a blowjob, because I cannot stop thinking about this. Pairing: Jaha Lee/Yi Zaha x female reader WC: 1.4.k Warnings/Tags: Slight praise, oral sex, public sex. Rating: 18+, but I won’t snitch.

You hummed at the steady patter of rain upon the windows, droplets yet to scatter the nascent rays of rising sun. You sat in the dining area of the Low Down, alone. It was still early morning, so no one was around. You sipped your tea, waiting for someone to come in and brighten your day.

Soon enough, Jaha rounded the corner, you wondered why-ever he had gotten out of bed. His facial expression was cadaver-like, not just sagged but lacking its usual liveliness completely, as if he had left his spirit snuggling under the duvet. His eyelids drooped and there was a slight lolling to his head, drunk with fatigue after a session of night-time torture no doubt. But why not just lie in? Even his feet barely skimmed the wooden floors and altogether his limbs bore the appearance of being too heavy for him, like he was personally struggling against far more gravity than everyone else.

“Jaha? Why are you up so early?” You inquired.

Jaha sat down next to you, letting out a yawn. “Felt like it.”

You scoffed at his obvious lie. “Sure. That’s why you look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

Jaha rested his head on the heel of his palm, trying to keep himself awake. “There’s lots to do today...”

“You can still sleep in... I’ll wake you up once everyone’s out of bed.”

“You’re out of bed. That’s enough for me.”

This man was being so unnecessarily difficult. You have no idea why you had to fall in love with someone who was more obstinate than you are. You clicked your tongue. “You’re stubborn.”

“That’s what people say when you don’t do what they want.” He murmured under his breath. He was so close to falling asleep.

You placed your cup down on the table, and stood up. You paced over to Jaha, who only half-opened his eyes to look at you, who was now standing in front of him.

“I’ll wake you up then.” You huffed, biting your lip. You pulled his chair back a little, separating him from the table. He didn’t mind this, his eyes only looking at you for a split second before his focus was back on his drowsiness. Gosaeng Dok wasn’t kidding when he said that Jaha spent all night torturing Cheong Hoyeon, but you didn’t expect your lover—your very vigorous lover to tire himself out this much. You dropped to your knees, crawling under the table, smiling at the idea that came to mind.

"[Y/N]?”

You flinched at the mention of your name, eyes looking up at him. You wore a small smile, trying to seem innocent.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his eyes still barely open as he gazed down at you. You didn’t answer him, simply smiling, scooting your body closer to fill in the gap. You could hear him groan when you palmed his groin. You waited for any sign of protest, deciding you wouldn’t go through unless he wanted it. After all, you were really mostly doing this to energize him a bit. After a moment passed by of silence, you pulled his pants down a bit, Jaha obliging. The fact that he was acknowledging that you were preparing to suck his dick, in a public area, but didn’t say anything in protest was almost funny to you.

But, you supposed it made sense. He was the Master of the Low Down. No one would really say anything if they saw this... Hopefully no one will see this though.

You pulled his underwear down, his already semi-hard cock springing free from his boxers. You’d barely touched him and he was already hard for you. Being the cheeky little shit you were, you licked up his shaft, taking his cock into your hand. He swore under his breath, encouraging you to continue what you were doing. You took his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the slit.

“F-Fuck, that’s so good.” He whispered, straightening his back a little. It seemed like your little energizing technique was beginning to work.

The same lopsided grin you wore on your face continued its stay as you took his entire length into your mouth, bobbing your head to take him further in. You hollow your cheeks, swallowing around his thick cock. Jaha had the best cock you’d ever seen. He was pretty big but still managed to stay clean despite how fast his hair grew. You pulled away, giving his pink tip a kiss before pulling your hanfu down a bit. Your exposed nipples hardened as they met with the cold air. Finally, Jaha’s eyes were fully open as he focused on you, eyes glistening at the sight beneath him.

"This is your idea of waking someone up?” He asked with genuine curiosity. Of course, you weren’t doing this just to wake him up. You were pent up. You knew it too, but shrugged your shoulders. It would sound incredibly petty if you told him you were upset that he wasn’t fucking you enough.

Jaha merely squinted his eyes, all suspicion leaving when you connected your lips with his pretty tip again. He sucked in a deep breath, lacing his fingers with your hair carefully, not intending on hurting you. Jaha was always really gentle with you. Even those days you asked for him to choke you, he would barely give in, although... it would be a lie to say that he didn’t enjoy being rough with you. He was simply afraid of not managing to control his strength.

“Your cock is already awake.” You muttered, stroking him with the saliva you’d left on his shaft. He shuddered, moaning quietly.

“It’s so fuckin’ big and pretty, Jaha. I can barely fit it in my mouth,” You moaned out. Jaha was rock hard at this point, precum dripping from his slit as you licked it up, groaning from the bittersweet taste of his semen. He was still managing to control his breathing at that moment, but barely. You went further down, the tip of his cock reaching your throat. You choked, tears spilling from your eyes, but you stayed in that position, feeling your own warmth pool in your panties, your slick almost dripping down your legs from how much this turned you on. You wanted to slip a finger in, and rub at your swollen clit, but you didn’t, not allowing yourself the pleasure of touching yourself. You wanted to cum just from sucking his cock alone.

He grunted, thrusting his hips up to meet the movement of your neck, fucking your throat while saliva trailed down your lips, and fell on your neck. At that point, he’d completely deserted any thoughts of sleep he was having, staring into your eyes while he facefucked you.

“Fuck, such a good little girl. Taking my cock like that.” More tears spilled from your eyes while you moaned around his cock, playing with your nipples while he had his way with your throat. He’d completely be rid of his respectful act, doing every single thing he wanted to do to your body, fucking your throat that was for him and him only. You rubbed your legs together to find some type of friction, moaning as your slick covered your hanfu as well.

“You’re actually getting off to this, [Y/N]?”

You nodded at his question, only making him groan more.

“Good little thing. Always ready for me, aren’t you?” He moaned, throwing his head back, allowing you to take control again. You couldn’t say you didn’t like it when he was rough with you, disregarding your feelings and emotions and just ravishing you for all that you were worth. 

You sucked down his shaft, your tongue swirling over his tip again while he moaned your name, shooting his load down your throat. You coughed, choking on the sudden liquid. Some of it fell onto the floor, but you still swallowed most of his load. You were both a mess, neither of you able to breathe for a while.

“Was I too rough?” He asked, frowning.

You shook your head, gazing into his eyes. “No, no... Not at all.” Your voice was raspy, dull pain in your throat. He was rough, very rough, but you had no problem with that. You loved it. You always did.

You crawled from under the table, and he quickly pulled you onto his lap. You felt his cock touching your thigh from underneath your hanfu.

“Did my naughty girl have fun?” He asked, and you nodded, yawning after.

“Ah, ah, ah, you went out of your way to keep me awake, so now I won’t let you rest until I’ve had my way with you.”

[yerrenica]

nice fangs bro do you wanna make out I mean make out I mean make out I mean make out sorry I mean make out I mean ma

[yerrenica]

They really had me believing that this guy was going to be important but no they just had jaha slaughter this fine ass dude like it was nothing 😔