#there were so many typos lmao

[normal-thoughts-official]

Do find it interesting how Copley's entire character is based on denial. Especially when it comes to his involvement in the key plot points.

He's in denial about his wife. Even if he admits that she is dead, he refuses to move on. It's been two years, and he still wears the wedding band. Just in that very short scene of him in his office we see two pictures of her (one of their wedding on the shelf and one of her right in between his PC monitors, so she's always in his peripheral vision at least). Someone who wanted to move on would have kept the pictures somewhere to look at when they felt the need, not exactly where they were before, as a constant reminder of her passing. And they definitely wouldn't keep wearing the wedding band.

What I'm trying to say is that even though Copley, obviously, knows rationally that his wife is dead, subconsciously he is still in denial because he refuses to move on. And because he refuses to move on, he keeps trying to find a way to do something about it. He obsessively follows the immortals and Merrick (who is specifically looking into making cures for the type of disease that killed Copley's wife) looking for a way to help cure her illness, because it is the closest he can get to curing his wife. To making up for not being able to save her. To rewriting what happened to his family. (And if he ever got that, he'd have to face the fact that he can't bring his wife back and actually process his grief instead of trying to Do Something To Stop ALS as a means of putting off facing her death).

The entire plot wouldn't have happened if Copley hadn't been in denial about the fact that there is nothing left for him to do about his wife. If he hadn't refused to process his grief by choosing to obsess over finding a cure to ALS instead, he wouldn't have found out about the Guard's immortality, and wouldn't have sold them out to Merrick.

But it doesn't stop there. Even his small decisions are driven by denial. I always laugh at the "there was an unanticipated amount of carnage" because Copley. James. Babygirl. They are immortal mercenaries who have fought in more wars than most people learn of in school. We know that they're trying to do good and don't like killing, but we also know they're willing to. And with a secret this big at risk of being revealed, there is no way they'd have left anyone get out of that room alive.

Which someone as smart as Copley, who's ex-CIA, for crying out loud, should have predicted. The only way Copley could have possibly believed that his little trap wouldn't end in a bloodbath is if he was neck-deep in denial of the fact that his plan would kill innocents. Because again, Copley desperately needs to believe that he's doing good, that he's working for the sake of humanity, that he will save his wife people

And sure, he could have been lying about not anticipating it, but judging by: the fact that he doesn't need to because Merrick doesn't give a fuck; the fact that the carnage actually got in the way of his plans, because he couldn't get DNA samples; and his horrified look as he watched the footage, I really don't think that he was. I think he genuinely, truly did not expect that it would be (so) bloody. Or, more accurately, didn't want to believe it would, or maybe didn't even want to think about what the consequences of his trap would be beyond "I get the samples, ASL is cured". He was laser focused on his goal, and he didn't see anything else. If Copley hadn't been in denial about this, his trap would probably have been set up differently, at the very least.

And then, of course, the entire second half is a parade of Copley being in denial about the obvious, completely unmistakable fact that Merrick is a piece of shit who could not care less about helping people. Merrick isn't even trying to pretend otherwise. Yet Copley is surprised by his complete lack of ethics. The way he screams "Mr Merrick!" when Merrick starts stabbing Joe, like anyone in the world didn't see that coming; his "this is about science, not profits, or sadism" like he truly believed that's what it was for them; warning him that "this would be murder" like Merrick cared; the genuinely shocked "for... ever?"; the "no, this is not what we agreed" when this is exactly what they agreed on. The agreement was that he would bring Merrick the immortals and he would experiment on them to make medicine. He had to have known forced experimentation and potential murder was what was going to happen, especially because Merrick took 0 efforts to not make that obvious. But somehow Copley had convinced himself that they would get DNA samples and then leave them alone, which is an insane assumption to make after everything Merrick's done and said.

But Merrick's company was working on a cure for degenerative diseases. They could, very soon, cure ALS. So Copley needed it to be him, needed him to be interested in doing this ethically, needed to believe that, once again, his brilliant plan wasn't actually just hurting more innocents in a desperate quest to save a dead woman.

Because Copley does believe in doing good. We know that because no one who doesn't actually, deeply care about humanity would go looking into what happened to all the people that the Guard saved. Just the fact that he researched that, tried to find out what happened to the victims, shows that he is a very compassionate person with a very humanized perspective on war and conflict. He went looking into generations of descendants of people saved by the Guard. I don't think most people would even bother to think of looking at what happened to them beyond being a footnote in the Guard's history, especially not anyone as obsessed with them as Copley was. But Copley did. He looked into every single person, and what happened to them.

Taking that into account, as well as the fact that Copley was genuinely fighting Merrick on his decisions, I think that Copley - unlike Merrick, Keane, and Kozak - does care about doing the whole thing ethically. The thing, of course, is that without their consent that is impossible, which Copley is too smart and compassionate not to know. But letting them go would mean facing that there won't be a miracle cure for his wife, and he cannot handle admitting that. So, he adds "trying to convince himself this could be in any way ethical and he can convince Merrick to do it that way" to the list of completely out of touch beliefs he's been holding because of denial.

The result is that even though he obviously knew that Merrick was a fucking piece of shit (just the fact that he added "or sadism" proves that), he didn't actually face that as a fact until the moment Nile confronted him and he said "they are in the lab, being tested" and then closed his eyes and went, "tortured". Again, denial made an appearance, but this time he made the conscious decision to take a deep breath and stop lying to himself. This is the first time he acknowledges what's actually going on there, and by proxy, his part in it. And all it took was being quite literally hit over the head with it, as well as possibly killing the single person who's made the most good in the history of humanity. But I digress.

It is also in that same confrontation with Nile that he finally admits the obvious - that he was trying to save someone who was gone. He says he wants to help humanity, but in the end he's only being truly honest about his motives when he says "she couldn't talk, my wife. In the end." This is also the first and only time we see him actually mourning his wife, because it is the first time he is in any way processing that her death was final. Up until then, he only talked about her detachedly, and kept all these mementos of her like she still lived in the house.

And that's why his confrontation with Nile is also the shift of his loyalties. Because it is the point in which he breaks his cycle of denial and admits that his wife is gone, he can't save her, and that in trying to do so he's hurt innocents and handed them over to a greedy asshole. And once he finally, finally faces that, he realizes he has to do something about it. Which is why he helps Nile and wants to storm the place with her, insists on it, admits that pharma CEO's are full of shit ("what kind of CEO walks around with his own personal army?" "these days? Most of them"), and agrees to help erase the Guard's footprints. And even though Copley was (or wanted to believe he was) good-intentioned, he wasn't able to do good until he stopped lying to himself.

So Copley's denial is what shaped the way the whole movie goes - if he weren't in denial he wouldn't have found out about the Guard's immortality, wouldn't have set them up the way he did, wouldn't have sold them out to Merrick specifically, and wouldn't have allowed Merrick to continue for as long as he did. And once he got over the denial, that was also a point that helped shape the resolution of the plot (I'm sure Nile would have found everyone anyway, but Copley's help did speed up the process). And I find it interesting how this one thread of how he chose to deal with his grief ended up not only defining his character, but the course of events in the movie - despite the fact that he's not a main character.

Which actually also ties off in a really interesting perspective where most of the things that happen over the course of the movie are dictated by the characters' refusal to try to get better. The whole movie would be heading towards a massive tragedy, Greek-style, if there weren't a character who is quite literally defined by her refusal to go with the tide - Nile. Unlike Andy, Booker, and Copley, who let their grief and self destruction take over their life, and Joe and Nicky (+Booker again), who let Andy make all the relevant family decisions, Nile refuses to let anyone or anything decide her fate for her. She doesn't defer to Andy just because Andy is the oldest and very clearly capable; she fights her at nearly every turn, even when it's impossible for her to win, because she is not willing to compromise her beliefs or let anyone dictate what she's going to do. She will do it if she believes in it, and only then. And Nile also isn't willing to listen to Copley's bullshit, which forces him to face what he's been trying to hide from himself.

So, you know - maybe this is the why Nile. Because she's young and strongheaded, and so she holds the hope and the possibility of doing things differently. Of choosing your potential future. And that's why she makes Andy realize that she's been doing a shit job of living, but she can do different.

Although this might be a different analysis altogether. My point with this one was - Copley's tendency towards denial was one of the most powerful forces shaping the course of events in the movie. And Nile's unwavering sense of morality and freedom of choice was the opposing force.

PS so there are no doubts about it: I'm not saying that what Copley did was justified or that you have to like him. This is a character analysis and nothing more, or less.

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Can I request headcanons or a scenario for Reader (pick a gender, idc) giving V a handjob? Just holding him close, somewhere safe in some nice + safe bolt hole somewhere in Red Grave city, listening to him moan (and maybe talk? If he can talk while getting off) while Reader gets him off? Please, his voice is so pretty, he'd sound so nice 😍 And he deserves to feel good 💜

Lineaments of Gratified Desire: V x G/N Reader

Minors DNI; FOR 18+ ONLY!

Seriously, go away; go read some fluff or angst or something.

SUMMARY:

     Despite V’s physical limitations and condition, the fragile man has saved you on more than one occasion from certain death. Today, you decided to repay his kind deeds.

BEGINNING NOTES:

Requested 10th June 2023 by Saiyanblood2 on Tumblr :))))

🛏️📔🛏️ Submissive V x G/N reader Fluff..? If you squint Smut Handjob; V receiving 📔🛏️📔 🟪Takes place during DMC 5 🟪The reader is a demon hunter who works with the DMC. 🟪The reader uses Gilgamesh and Revenant. 🟪Quick reminder that “sword” sizes are found in the character's H/C chapter (Linked here) 🟪I haven’t finished “Visions of V” yet (not very good at reading things and I haven’t had much time/motivation to do so no Vergil joke intended lmfao) but I’m like 99% sure that this conflicts with that, sorry. 🟪Yes, I know that jumping from a window you should do like a parachute roll or whatever it’s called; just let me have this lmao 🟪Bagheera is the name of the jaguar from “Jungle Book” which I’ve never seen, if I’m honest. But! I feel like Dante and Vergil would’ve seen it as kids since the movie was made in 1967 and they were born in 1980. (I use Bagheera in here and I figure I should explain it lol) 🟪Boxer briefs (as far as I am aware) usually have a zipper fly; so V’s do as well. 🟪This is my first time writing (and acknowledging) that I h/c V to have an uncut dick. It might be a bit rough; sorry. (Fun fact: I also h/c Vergil and Dante to also have uncut dicks lmao)

===

     “So,” Nero mindlessly wandered around the interior of the van, waiting for Nico to finish her work, “You and V, huh?”

     As you adjusted Gilgamesh’s gauntlets and furrowed your brow, responding without looking up, “What about V and me?”

     Leaning against the inner wall of the van, Nero stuck his hand in his jeans pocket in an attempt to act casual, “You two a thing?”

     “Wh-what?” A flustered expression adorned your features as you slowly panned up to meet Nero’s curious gaze.

     “Come on,” he gave a playful smirk, leaning forward slightly, “You can--”

     A loud southern-accented voice cut him off from the back of the van, “He an’ I got a bet if y’all are fuckin’ or not.”

     “If we’re…” You slowly blinked, processing what was said, “V and I are not-” Putting your hands up, you shook your head, “We aren’t anything or doing anything.”

     Nico clicked her tongue in disappointment while Nero pumped his fist with a quiet, “Yes!”

     Rolling her eyes, Nico pulled a wad of cash from her back pocket, counting out what looked like ten dollars. Nero strolled over to her workbench, a smug grin plastered on his face. In an almost exaggerated manner, he snatched the money from her and tucked it in his duffle bag, which was neatly placed underneath the couch.

     A squeak of the van door caught everyone’s attention, V looked around for a moment before his gaze fixated on you, “Pardon my late arrival, I was… busy.”

     You smiled and took a few steps to stand closer to him, “It’s alright; it was nice having a break for a few minutes.”

     Nero raised a brow, “You guys are already heading out?” 

     With a nod, you turned to address the pair, “Just a quick sweep of the next dozen or so blocks; we shouldn’t be long.”

     “Uh-huh,” the white-haired man took a deep breath, shaking his head with a small smile, “You’re gonna burn yourself out again; gotta sleep at some point.”

     He tossed you Revenant which you caught and slid in the holster on your lower back, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Besides,” you took a deep breath and sighed, “the city’s not gonna clear itself.”

     Making a phone call motion with her hand, Nico spoke, “Keep in touch, hun.”

     With a playful sarcastic wink you gave her double finger guns, “Will do babe,” the two of you shared a laugh before you addressed V, who, unbeknownst to you, hadn't stopped staring at you, “Ready?”

     “Of course,” he pivoted around, opening and holding the door open, “I’ll follow your lead.”

     With departing waves, you stepped out the door, V following suit. A warmth found its way to your face as you smiled as you walked side-by-side; a comforting silence settling between you. Despite only knowing V briefly, you had grown quite fond of the lithe man. The way he treated you and spoke to you was so different compared to the roughness of both Dante and Nero that it made his first meeting with you stick out like a sore thumb. 

===

    It had only been a week or so after the Qliphoth had appeared.

    After only God knows how long, you had taken some vacation time and left the city. Upon hearing the news about the outbreak, you immediately turned around and put your holiday on hold. This wouldn't have been too big of a deal if not for the unbelievably high amount of military checkpoints you had to go through; re-explaining that you work as a devil hunter and your employer had been asked to help handle the situation. It was monotonous, to say the least.

    Not to mention that Nico, Nero, and the client--whom you hadn't met yet--were on the complete opposite side of the city.

    An exasperated sigh left your lips as you kicked a rock using Gilgamesh's boots. It had been nearly 72 hours since you'd slept, eaten, or had any sort of significant source of water. Exhausted didn't even come close to explaining how you felt.

    Thankfully, life decided to throw you a bone and you stumbled upon a relatively un-damaged apartment complex. Not passing up the chance, you headed straight inside and cleared out the first and second floor: given it was only lower-level demons like Empusas. One of the second-floor rooms had a door still attached and a corpse-free bed. Quietly shutting the door, you flopped onto the bed.

    Even with you sleeping with one eye open, you were jumped by a demon that you hadn't heard. It was a Nobody and by the time you got your arms up to block, it was too late to ground yourself. The demon smacked you out the room's window.

    Landing on your feet, Gilgamesh took the brunt of the fall; however, it still sent a shocking pang of pain up your body. Crumpling over on yourself, you grumbled some obscenities before returning upright. Your eyes settled on a newly formed horde and you put your hands up, ready to fight.

    The extent of your exhaustion was becoming evident as you threw sloppy punches and were only able to kick half as high as normal. Despite this, you still managed to clear the demons... or so you thought.

     An icicle from a Baphomet nicked your bicep causing you to hiss in pain. Placing a gauntlet over the torn flesh, you spun around to see the demon which was floating right out in the open. Though it was a stupid move, you spirited straight at the icy demon, avoiding all manner of magical attacks.

    Using Gilgamesh's saws on your boots, you sprung upwards and drilled up into its brain with the gauntlets; killing it. Smiling to yourself, you landed and shook the corpse from your hand.

    Your hair stood on end and your expression fell.

    Slowly pivoting around, you came face to face with a trio of Hell Judeccas. As you waited with bated breath for one of them to move, you felt the blood from your wound glide down and drip off your fingers. The Baphomet was a challenge enough right now; so this fight would most likely end poorly for you. Death was almost a guarantee and there wasn't even anyone around to see it.

    Taking a deep breath, you took off towards the demons and dodged two sets of blades that were sent straight at you by sliding on your knees. Pulling Revenant from its place on your back, you shot at them, praying that you hit at least one. However, you weren't so lucky and they all moved or teleported out of the way.

    Quickly getting to your feet, you readied for another attack when a strange cat-like snarl from behind you caught you off guard. The supposed source of the sound, a large black jaguar, darted passed you and attacked the opposing creatures.

     Then a shrill cackle came from behind in the same direction, quickly approaching and flying over you, “Ha! Bagheera was right, I’ll be damned.”

    Confusion set in as you watched with mouth slightly agape at the demons being shredded by, what you could only assume to be, more demons.

     “ “The most sublime act is to set another before you. / If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise.”.” A low sultry voice from behind you caught your attention, turning slightly; attempting to keep an eye on both the demons and the new voice.

     “Who-?” 

     You froze, your already pounding heart picking up a few extra paces at the sight. Though Dante had called you and given you a small description of the newest client of (The) Devil May Cry, you hadn’t expected him to look like this. 

     He slowly walked past you, sliding the well-kept brown pleather and golden accented book into his, rather promiscuous, leather jacket. When you turned back around to face the demons, the amount of confusion you had only tripled. The two animals had taken care of the three Hell Judeccas, all looking oddly de-saturated and on the verge of death. The gaunt tattooed stranger, using his cane, swept up one of the large demon’s sets of blades and swung them around, slicing it in half. He repeated the action but was able to kill the final two in one combined swing. 

     All you could muster was a confused open-mouthed huff. 

     The large hawk addressed the raven-haired man, “Well that was fun.”

     Rolling his eyes, the man sighed and turned his attention to the jaguar. The large cat had begun to creep up to you; not in a threatening way but rather, what appeared to be, a curious one.

     Just as it got within an arm's length from you, the man placed his cane down using it to support himself, and simply said, “To me.”

     Both animals returned to him and quickly disappeared into the man, causing more blackened ink to appear on his pallid skin. 

     “Are you alright?” His eyes focused on you.

     “I-” You closed your eyes and rapidly shook your head, rationalizing that his animals weren't real, thinking it was caused by your delirious state, “I’m fine; thanks for the help.”

     A warm smile pulled at his plush lips, “The boy asked me to keep an eye out for someone who looks an awful lot like you,” he gestured with his eyes down to Gilgamesh, “and would have that devil arm.”

     You laughed softly, “Nero’s actually here, huh?”

     “He is, however, we parted ways after stopping in that woman’s loud van.”

     “Nico’s here too?” Shaking your head you looked down with raised brows, “Man, the whole crew’s out here.,” You looked back up, “What about Dante or the ladies? They out here too?”

     His smile faded, “No, I’m afraid that they are more than likely dead at this point.”

     “Dead? Surely you’re kidding.”

     With a flat mouth, he broke his gaze away for a moment, “No. Sorry to relay such bitter news upon our first meeting.”

     Grinding your teeth in thought and moving your jaw back and forth, you stood thinking for a moment, “So it’s just Nico, Nero, me, and--?”

     “Call me V,” the lithe man took a few strides closer to you, standing comfortably close.

     “So you are the client then?”

     V nodded, “Yes, that is correct.”

     “Man,” you gestured with one hand up and down his body, the other hand resting on your hip, “Wish we had customers like you more often,” for better or for worse, you spoke your mind, “cause damn you’re-- wow.”

     He looked down, hiding the slight pink on his face at the comment, and laughed, “You’re much more blunt than the others led me to believe.”

     A wide smile stretched across your face, emphasizing the bags under your bloodshot eyes, which V finally noted, “Just callin’ it like I see it, V.”

     “May I do the same?”

     Putting your arms up, you cracked your shoulders as you responded, “Sure.”

     “You need rest.”

     Putting your arms down with a heavy sigh, “It’s that obvious, huh?”

     V laughed slightly, “Just calling it as I see it,” slowly, he began to walk back the way he’d come from, “We aren’t far from Nico, I'm sure you could rest up there.”

     Happily, you turned to follow him, “I’ll follow your lead.”

===

     “What’s with that expression Wanderer?” V raised a brow, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.

     “Oh!” With an embarrassed smile, you placed a hand on the back of your neck, “Just got lost in thought, sorry.”

     “May I ask what you were thinking so intensely about?” He shifted slightly, allowing Shadow to take a break from traveling, and began supporting himself with his cane causing the two of you to move slower.

     “Just thinking about our first time, that’s all.”

     A breathy sultry laugh left his lips, “ Our first time? Well now, I didn’t take you to be such a bold flirt today.”

     “Wh-huh?” Replaying the conversation, your eyes went wide and you turned to him, doing your best to not trip as you continued walking, “No no- I didn’t-- that wasn’t-”

     V laughed again, eyeing you up and down from the corner of his eye with a smirk, “Right, pardon my assumption.”

     You stared with parted lips momentarily before returning to face the correct way, lips pursed and cheeks unbearably hot. Nervousness settled like a brick in your gut as you watched the ground in front of you, causing you to miss the fact V was staring at you with half-lidded eyes. 

     Mindlessly playing with his teeth with his tongue, he debated whether to tease you any further about what was said; ultimately he decided to drop it. In truth, however, the lithe man was a bit disappointed that you weren’t thinking about the idea of being with him as he had thought about many times before. V felt almost guilty about the intense lust he felt for you.

     The raven-haired poet was unquestionably, unfathomably, undeniably, in love with you--even if he has only known you for a short time. V was certain that he wanted to be with you for the rest of this lifetime and, what could be argued to be, his next; in whatever way you’d have him. Whether it was just as colleagues, friends, or lovers; it didn’t matter, he needed you in his life. 

     His grip tightened on his cane, realizing that Vergil may end up pushing you away, despite the pronounced dependency on you. You were like a rich dark sweet wine that he was unable to put down and wanted to do nothing but sip upon you till the end of time itself. A low sigh left his nose, secretly praying that he was wrong about how things would be when all was said and done. 

     “V?” Your voice was quiet as you adjusted Gilgamesh for the umpteenth time, “Can I ask you something?”

     “Of course,” he straightened upright, holding the cane horizontally, gloved fingers wrapping around the blade.

     “When this is all over, could we…” You paused for a moment, “stay in contact?”

     “Do you want to?”

     Sheepishly, you nodded.

     V smirked, “Then of course we can.”

     Your eyes flicked up to meet his unwavering gaze, smiling brightly at him, “Thanks.”

     “Perhaps, if you’d like, we could consider some other things as well.”

     “O-other things?” A shake had found its way to your words as you waited with bated breath for his answer.

     However, he didn’t answer, instead, he gave a low chuckle and turned his gaze from you, gesturing with his cane, “It seems we have work to do,” he put the metal back down and leaned on it again.

     A heavy sigh left your lips and, without a second thought, you took off toward the horde.

     Not hearing V calling out for you to stop.

     Out of the corner of your eye, you saw fast almost unplaceable movement. Although you went to bring your gauntlets up as fast as possible, you were unable to make the time gap. Except when you opened your eyes, instead of a big demon skewering you through your middle, you were on your ass and V was lying on top of you. His arms wrapped around your hips with his face right underneath your navel, face down and breathing heavily.

     Before you could ask, a familiar squawking voice chimed in, “Aw, how romantic; Romeo can sure as hell hustle when he needs to,” the bird let out a laugh.

     A snarl left Shadow’s maw, seemingly annoyed at the lack of help from Griffon. 

     “Yeah. Yeah. I’m on it,” Griffon returned to the fight, leaving you to assist V up.

     Slowly, he picked his head up enough to look at you, emerald eyes holding a heavy unplaceable emotion. Heat quickly filled your face at the realization of the position you were in which didn’t go unnoticed by the raven-haired man. Without moving too much, V snapped his fingers causing his hair to go white and the last of his tattoos to dissipate. 

     “Are you alright?” You propped yourself up with one arm and used the other to cautiously tuck his hair back, resting an armoured palm on his cheek. 

     “Mmn,” he paused in thought, enjoying the feeling of your touch, “If you are then I am.”

     A corner of your mouth twitched up slightly, “I’m alright; thank you.”

     He took a deep breath in response, resisting the urge to place his face back down against your abdomen. Though all good things come to an end he knew he had to get up. With a grunt, he pushed up and sat up in a kneel, one knee up for him to push off of. However, you were quick to your feet and offered a hand instead, which he graciously accepted. 

     “I’ve got this,” you squeezed his hand before letting go, “Don’t worry about it.”

     Not giving him time to banter or reject your offer, you took off and finished off whatever half-dead demons were strewn about. 

     It didn’t take long for the horde to disappear into nothing but blood and gore. Admittedly, V always enjoys watching you work--especially with hand-to-hand weapons. Whether it is a holdover from Vergil’s distaste for guns or if it is because of the innate sensual nature of the style; he couldn’t help but find it arousing. The way you seemed to show off for him was just a cherry on top. 

     There was something in the way you pranced around that he couldn’t help but be mesmerized by. With all of this considered, V was struggling to not become visibly excited and, much to his dismay, was starting to lose the fight. 

     Once the demons were dead, you waltzed over to V and carefully grabbed his arm, tugging slightly, “Come with me.”

     “Is something the matter, Wanderer?” The lithe man’s hair returned to its dark shade as Nightmare faded from sight.

     You shook your head, flashing him a closed-eye smile, “Nope; just trust me, V.”

     He swallowed hard and nodded, “Very well, lead on.”

     A confused tilt adorned his brow as he tried to piece together what you were doing-- or planning. It wasn’t long before the two of you reached the destination you wanted, a mostly intact hotel. 

     “Could you leave Griffon and Shadow out here, please?” You turned to him, stopping in front of the entrance. 

     His gaze thinned, “May I ask why?”

     “Last time I went into one of these, I got attacked and thrown out a two-story window,” you gave him a falsely doe-eyed smile, “Figure they could be our lookout for a little bit--just until we’re done.”

     V wanted to push for a better answer, knowing that made no sense; however, his curiosity got the better of him and, deciding to play along, summoned both familiars. 

     “Stay here, we will be back shortly-”

     Griffon immediately turned to you, laughing with a slightly impudent attitude to his words, “Be careful with him, don’t need him dying of a heart attack-”

     You laughed, cutting the bird off, “I’ll take care of him; I promise.”

     With that, the two of you disappeared into the building. 

     “I’m going to scout ahead a bit; okay?” You let go of his arm, making V ever-so-slightly frown.

     “Sure.”

     As you went on, V’s eyes quickly drifted to your hips. Lewd thoughts echoed in his mind as he watched you seemingly bounce down the hall, peeking into each room with just the right amount of lean forwards so that he got a perfect view of your body. Each stride of yours had this certain flaunting nature to it as if you were purposefully taunting him. 

     Reaching the final room on the first floor, you decided to head in. Though no one else was aware, you’d already surveyed this building earlier and cleared out every demon within; meaning only small fries--like Empusas--would be here, if at all. This room was the closest to normal there was, having almost zero damage. 

     The room was relatively large; the bathroom was to the left of the doorway and the rest of the room to the right. The bedding was still neatly tucked, the faucet still ran, and there was even a radio with quite an array of classical CDs. 

     You made your way over to said radio with a hum, bending over at the waist to rummage through the music.

     V joined you in the room, looking around in slight confusion before his gaze settled on you again. A sway had found its way to your hips and, despite your flustered and nervous feeling, you smirked. You knew he was looking at you; confirming your hunch about his oddly vague words. 

     Eventually settling on a random assortment of Tchaikovsky's work, you slowly stood upright and placed the disc in the player with a half-surprised laugh at the fact it still worked. When you turned around, a wide-eyed stare was all you could give to V, who was shifting awkwardly and avoiding your eyes. Though you’d hope some light teasing would get him in the mood, you hadn’t expected him to get so hard so quickly.

     Without a word to him, you slipped past him and into the bathroom. Carefully, you placed Gilgamesh’s gauntlets and Revenant on the countertop then washed your hands, using the soap left in the dispenser. Returning to the room while drying your hands, you meandered toward the extremely confused horny goth. 

     As you discarded the towel, V finally spoke up, “Wanderer, what are we doing here?”

     “Well,” you gently grabbed the open of his jacket, a hand on each side, thumbing over the black leather, “After how many times you’ve saved me, I figure that it’s about time you get a reward.”

     His eyes flicked all around your face then down to your forearms, resting his cane against a nearby wall. Cautiously, V snaked his arms around your back and pulled you tight to him, “A reward ?”

     “Yeah,” you leaned closer and placed your nose beside his, lips just barely apart, speaking with a whisper, “If you’re interested…”

     Closing the gap, V leaned into you for both support and to deepen the kiss. An icy hand slid up your back, gracefully dancing across your still-clothed skin, and came to rest on the back of your neck. Your hands slid down his sides, coming to rest at his belt line, hooking your forefingers into the loops of his ever-tightening skinny jeans. 

     Switching to long drawn-out heated kisses, V squirmed under your touch as he felt you pull his hips into yours. Breaking away for a moment, the two of you stayed close, breathing heavily in content. A smirk pulled at his lips as he moved to kiss your up jawline, taking his time, making his way to your earlobe, tugging on it with a bite. 

     V rested with the side of his face against yours. The hand from your neck made its way to your upper back and, mindlessly, the thin man began to sway with you, enjoying the music and relaxing in the moment. You could feel his heart racing from just his chest resting against yours; no wonder Griffon gave you shit about V having a heart attack. 

     Bit by bit your hands left his jeans and went to his corset, undoing the already loose strings further. Taking the hint, V let go of you and removed his jacket then his corset; being tossed onto the bed and floor, respectively. A small huffed moan left his lips as he watched your hands grope up and down his torso.

     “Wanderer…” His voice was low, but brimming with an unmistakable lust.

     Resting your hands on the sides of his hips, you stood for a moment. A smirk tugged at your lips as you watched his chest rise and fall with each breath. Leaning closer, you placed a kiss at the crook of his shoulder, followed by a soft bite. V submissively tilted his head away from you, giving you more access to his neck. A smile tugged at your lips as you placed tender kisses, and the occasional bite, along his cold skin. A hand slid to the front of his jeans, finally, your touch wasn’t to just tease him. 

     V placed his hands on your sides, holding you closer, pursed lips hiding a groan that hung in the back of his throat. Though he knows it’s a bit pathetic, just feeling your hand against his cock was proving to be somewhat of a challenge for the inexperienced man to not prematurely finish. 

     Using both hands, you went to remove his belt, before stopping. V’s swaying had become much more pronounced--not having a means of support other than you. 

     You whispered against his neck, “Why don’t we sit down, hm?”

     V, much to your surprise, seemed to stumble over his thoughts, “Any par- particular position?”

     Fully leaning back, you grabbed his hand and guided him to the bed, “Get up here-- do you need help?”

     He gave a nasally laugh, “No, I am alright,” he crawled up onto the bed, kneeling with his knees both on the bed, “Now what?”

     Without answering, you climbed atop the mattress as well, sitting with your back nearly against the headboard, and patted your thighs. Understanding what you wanted, V sat on your lap facing you, wrapping his legs behind you.

     “You’re beautiful, V,” reaching up, you moved a strand of hair from the front of his face, tucking it behind his ear, and leaned in close, speaking right above his lips, “So very beautiful.”

     The gap quickly closed between you and V’s hands cupped your jaw, thumbs rubbing against your cheeks. Your hands went back to work on his belt, making him shift slightly. Feeling that you had the belt fully undone, his lips left yours, and he moved back just enough to look you in the eyes. With kiss-swollen lips slightly agape, V swallowed hard as he heard you unbutton his jeans. 

     Slowly, methodically, you unzipped the fly on his jeans, making sure to note every little micro-movement V made. This had been something you’d wanted for a long time and you were going to make sure to enjoy every last bit. When you finally broke from his gaze to look down, you raised a brow.

     Nervousness pooling in his gut, V noticed your expression, “Is- is something wrong, love?”

     A wide smile tugged at your lips, “No- not at all,” trying to hold back a laugh you looked back up at him, “It's just, with the rest of your outfit, I honestly expected you to be wearing a thong or g-string; not boxer briefs.”

     V let out a laugh of relief, “I see; I-” A stifled moan cut his words short. 

     Resting your hand on the inner side of his thigh, you started to slowly run the side of your thumb up and down his bulge.

     Heavy exhales left his nose as he watched your hand and he moved his hands to the outsides of your shoulders.

     Out of the corner of your eye, you saw V’s coat on the bed and got a wicked idea, “You know V,” your motions slowed even further causing him to let out a small huff of disappointment, “I really like your voice…”

     His brow twitched slightly, attempting to figure out what you had in store, “Is that right?”

     Carefully, you reached over to his jacket, grabbed his book from an inner pocket, and then handed it to him, “Why don’t you read me something, hm?”

     “Is there a particular poem you’d like?” The prized item was held between you both, the top of it resting gently against your chest.

     You shook your head, “Whatever you think fits best.”

     As he flipped through the book, you resumed your touch. With eyes trained on his crotch, you unzipped the boxer’s fly and heard his page-turning falter slightly. Slipping his cock out into the open air, V let out a small moan, a page pinned between his forefinger and thumb.

     “Now, now, V.” You looked up at him from the tops of your eyes, “You stop, I stop; got it?”

     He pursed his lips and then nodded, continuing with his search. There was a visible shake to his hands as he did his best to play along. Ghosting your fingers along his shaft, you noticed that he had pre-cum already dribbling from his tip and he was heavily twitching; apparently, he was much more sensitive than you’d expected. 

     Rolling his foreskin back slightly, you thumbed over his tip. His page-turning had stopped again, and you hummed slightly, “Find one?”

     With a slightly strained voice, he nodded, “Y-yes, I,” he moaned as you lightly wrapped a hand around his shaft, closing his eyes he continued, “I found something suitable.”

     “Good,” you brought your thumb to your lips and put it in your mouth, cleaning the digit, “The floor is yours,” V’s eyes flicked to you, watching you mindlessly roll your tongue over your lips, and his blush deepened tenfold. 

     A shaky breath left his mouth as he focused on the page before him, “ “What is it men in women do require? / The l-lineaments of Gratified Desire.”.”

     Spitting into your palm, you once again wrapped a hand around his shaft. With slow lazy pumps, you noted the feeling of his cock in your hand. Eyes flicking between his face and dick.

     V’s brow twitched as he let out a hissing groan, “ “Wh-what is it women do in men require? / The lineaments of Gr-gratified Desire.”,” The raven-haired man’s hips unintentionally jerked slightly at the feeling of you putting your forefinger and thumb tips together, encircling his cock, and gently pulling up on his tip. 

     He hunched forwards slightly, his hair falling in front of his eyes, “ “The look of love alarms / Because ’tis f-fill’d with fire; / But the look of s-soft de-deceit- / Shall Win the love-lover’s hire” Ngh-ah~”     The fragile man’s legs constricted your middle ever tighter with each passing moment. Returning to stroking his entire length, you slowed down; not wanting him to finish quite yet. 

     Lips trembling, he continued, “ “S-soft Deceit & Idleness, / These ar-are Beauty’s sweetest dress. He--” 

     A sustained groan left his lips as he leaned forwards even more, placing the top of his head against your lips, which you placed a loving kiss upon, “ “He who binds to himself a- a joy / Dot the winged life d-destroy;”.”

     V bucked his hips slightly upwards, desperate for more friction, speaking with a whimpering moan, “Please, Wanderer, I can’t-”

     Whispering against him, you slowed your motions even further, “You’re almost done, my love… finish it for me; please?”

     Taking a stuttering inhale through his nose and low breathy exhale from his mouth, he licked his lips before continuing, “ “But he who ki-kisses the joy as it flies / Live in Eternity’s sun-sunrise.” Ah-ah~”

     Quickening your hand even faster than before, you placed another elongated kiss against his hair, “Good boy.”

     Tossing the book from his hands V sat upright. Icy fingers wrapped around the back of your neck and gripped the side of your shoulder. The raven-haired man began to thrust his hips into your hand, practically riding your thighs. 

     You smirked and leaned in to place kisses on his collarbones, “I love you, V.”

     “I- Uh-ah~,” another loud noise came from the man as he felt you add you use his pre to slick his cock even more, “I love you too, Wanderer.”

     You upturned your face slightly, kissing his throat up to the underside of his jaw, a confident purr to your words, “You gonna cum for me, V~?”

     The frantic shifting of his hands to cup the sides of your face gave you your answer. V guided your face up to his and placed his forehead against yours. 

     “Please,” his voice was soft and pleading, his mind a hazy lust-filled mess that was unable to come up with any other words. 

     Upon using one hand to stroke him and the other to play with his tip, you felt his thigh muscles tighten and his fingers dig into you. He pushed his lips onto yours, kissing you as if he were never going to be able to again. His hands wandered down your body, groping at your clothes.

     Balling up your shirt in his hands from his grip, he broke off the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you momentarily. The skinny man leaned back and arched his body into yours. 

     He let out a final full-mouthed moan and bucked his hips one last time as his body tensed. 

     Warm silky white fluid decorated your hands as you slowly rode out his orgasm. A feeling of pride filled your heart as you made sure to etch the sight before you into your mind. 

     V’s skin had completely lost all of the inky patches and his chest was heaving. With how far he arched back, you could see the underside of his ribs and the prominent hip dips on each side. You watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he audibly swallowed a few times. 

     After a moment, he leaned back towards you. 

     Ghostly white hair fell in front of his flushed features as V’s eyes met yours. A small smile found its way to his lips and the two of you shared one more kiss. This time, however, it wasn’t lustful but a sweet loving gesture. With slow long kisses, V placed a forefinger under your jaw. Upon breaking away, you both shared a breathy satisfied huff and he slid his hand to cup your cheek, thumbing over your skin.

     “So,” you relaxed into his touch, “Are we getting attacked or something?” His brow twitched in confusion, “Your hair.”

     “Did I really..?” he leaned away and focused on the strands in front of his eyes which were slowly returning to black, “That’s… I didn’t know that would happen; how strange.”

     You removed your hands and looked at them, a slight playful teasing to your voice, “Little pent up there V?”

     Although you weren’t complaining, V had cum quite a lot harder than you’d expected and made a mess between both of you. 

     With an embarrassed laugh, he turned from your gaze, and rested his hands on his thighs, “Perhaps it is because you are so important to me…” V didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t even tried to masturbate while in this form--not to mention that Vergil hadn’t done anything like that in over twenty years. 

     Humming quietly along to the long-forgotten music, you brought your hand up to your mouth and cleaned it off. V’s eyes immediately flicked to you and he stared at you wide-eyed. Slowly, your eyes drifted to his as you continued. 

     When you went to give your other, less coated hand, the same treatment, you noticed something else and raised your brows in surprise, “That was a quick turnaround.”

     The tattooed man looked down and then back at you, “It’s not my fault you are so… appealing to me,” once more, he leaned his forehead against yours, “Wanderer.”

     “Mnm, well then,” you placed a long kiss against his lips, biting his lower lip after, “Guess my work isn’t done then, hm?”

     “Your work?” V backed away and removed his legs from your waist, running a hand down your middle, resting it just above your hip line, “If it’s all the same to you, this time, I’d much rather be the one to play.”

===

ENDING NOTES: Not me having no clue how to end this lmfao 🛏️📔🛏️ Been a long time since I’ve tried to write V lol I really should write him more Also hope that this was close enough to the request. I just kind of ran with the flow so it’s not exactly the same--the poem reading isn’t really what was asked but I figured it was close enough. Another thing, sorry for the improper dividing of dialogue trees when V’s reading. It was too chaotic for me to feel comfortable leaving in one chunk (which is technically what I should’ve done since it was only V talking) sorry lol Also if you are into like video edit shit, I’ve been re-watching one from “V’s Love” on YouTube titled “V | Slow Down | DMC 5 GMV”. Give it a watch- seriously it’s fans myself gayly oh boy. 📔🛏️📔 Poem(s) Quoted: William Blake: Proverbs of Hell William Blake: Several Questions Answered (full version)

If you like what you read here; please check out the rest of my one-shots on AO3. Comments, reshares, and likes/kudos are appreciated!! Thanks for reading!

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[stephantom]

From Richard Burton’s diary, September 23, 1980:

I only knew by chance that [Peter O’Toole] had taken such a terrible hammering – a front-page hammering – from the British critics for his performance in Macbeth. I knew only because Onllwyn Brace came to supervise my narration in the documentary film about Welsh rugby football. ‘Your pal O'Toole,’ he said, ‘has been murdered by the English critics.’ ‘For what?’ asked I. ‘For Macbeth,’ said he. I phoned Peter that night as soon as the hours were right and managed to catch him before he'd left the Old Vic. I said, ‘a couple of boys from the BBC were over today to record my voice and they told me you've had a bit of stick from the critics.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘How are the houses?’ I asked. ‘Packed.’ ‘Then remember this my boy,’ I said (he is 4 years younger), ‘you are the most original actor to come out of Britain since the war and fuck the critics.’ ‘Thank you.’ ‘Think of every four letter obscenity, six, eight ten and twelve letter expletives and ram it right up their envious arses in which,’ I said, paraphrasing Robert Atkins, ‘I'm sure there is ample room.‘ ‘Thank you.’ ‘Good night Peter. Don't give in and I love you.’ ‘I won't and it's mutual.’ ‘Good night again.’ ‘Good night Richard and thank you.’

That was the extent of our conversation but my fury at the critics took me through the night – another sleepless one – and I thought of all the things I should have said to Peter and didn't and thought I should write him a letter and didn't and prayed to God I hadn't sounded like a false sympathizer secretly rejoicing in his critical debacle. But no, I comforted myself, he knows I too have been through the fire and understand.

[kohakhearts]

not to be Hashtag serious about anything because that goes against my principles but this was the first year since i was 18 that i didn’t take antidepressants at all and the first time since i was 16 that i didn’t attend regular therapy (or at least Think i Needed to attend regular therapy) and yeah i wouldnt say i had a Good mental health year but. But. thats a big step for me actually and one i am very pleased with. go me

[thebeckster]

Ask Box Game Sneak Peak

I'm working on getting the writing prompts I got in my inbox done. Hopefully they'll be posted tomorrow! But until then I wanted to give y'all a sneak peak of what I've been cooking up.

For a prompt featuring a fair and the phrase "Hey, things could be worse, right?" Frey took Meg for a ride on the ferris wheel.

After a minute or so, one of the workers called up, “Sorry folks, looks like we’re having some mechanical problems. Just sit tight and we’ll get you down in a jiffy.” “Ooooh, why couldn’t this have happened when we were close to the ground?” Margaret moaned. “Hey,” Frey offered cheerfully, “things could be worse, right? It’s could be—” “Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” Meg’s eyes flew open in alarm, looking at Frey with the utmost betrayal. Frey grinned wickedly. “It could be raining.”

For a reverse trope prompt featuring Frey/Forte and Soulmates Fated to kill each other (dropped into the Dark Empress Frey AU because it was too perfect not to. I mean. The Angst!)

The witch spent a long moment studying the cards. The longer she studied, the more sorrowful she looked. Eventually she drew a heavy sigh and one by one pointed to the cards Forte had drawn. “The Empress, the Chariot, the Tower, Justice, and the Hanged Man. I am sorry, my dear, your future does not look to be a happy one.” “What do you mean?” Forte asked. The cards didn’t look all that bad. The witch closed her eyes, and when she spoke it was in a rougher voice, as if she was channeling something that was not entirely her. “You will meet your soulmate. She will be a force of nature and a lover of it. Her time in your life will be short, but meaningful. Duty and ambition will drive you apart, set you upon different paths. Destruction will bring you together again, opposing forces upon a battlefield. She will be great and terrible, and you will be the mighty hand of justice. You reunion will end her, and she will end you. It has been spoken. It is written.”

And then another reverse trope prompt for Frey/Arthur and Academic Rivals, but they're teachers and competing to have the best class. This one's gonna be lighthearted.

Frey loved her husband. Truly she did. He was the light of her life, her best friend, her One Person she couldn’t imagine spending a day without. … about seventy-five percent of the time. The other twenty-five percent… She didn’t hate him, but the deep loathing was completely mutual. Their coworkers didn’t understand how their marriage possibly worked, when they were viciously competitive against each other at work. Such things were beyond their fathom. And that suited Arthur and Frey just fine.

[spacedkey]

tought abt the funny little doctor too much and now my brain gurt

[nymphomatique]

Ahem- what if reader gave nerdy!Miguel aphrodisiac ( secretly just to see his reaction if he be extra needy or force 😩❤ idk you choose OR both 😏) and Miguel is trying everything in is power too not cum on reader touches that he normally would have to beg for, but while reader is letting Miguel, this (ONLY)time to goes crazy on her body ,free use!, but it thing like these always have a price to pay😝! And that price is doing her painfully long assignment and carry her bag if there were something Miguel hate well now he going to hate it even more since he doing this for a week or a month! (I bet that Miguel least favorite thing to do) 😘 hope you have a great day though

I definitely SO normal about this😌🙌

STOP RNNNNN i can literally imagine miguel fucking like a RABBIT like omg

cw: aphrodisiac use, mating press, miguel grows balls, he fucks the shit out of you, unprotected sex (wrap it children), squirting 🤭, miguel got a dirty mouth, creampie action once more. i briefly looked over this so expect typos lmao enjoy 💋

it’s been 3 hours. you and miguel had decided to try those viral honey packs you saw, wondering what the effect would be. well- you made miguel try them and see how fast it would take for him to cum.

it started off all fun and games until after miguel’s first orgasm, he lost control. you’re currently in a mating press, pussy covered in slick and cum, your body is practically limp from the pleasure and overstimulation. the sheets are wet from your combined fluids, and your squirt.

“i- i can’t anymore. no more miguel,” you heave out, pushing your hands to his pelvis.

“move your hands,” miguel says unmoved. he looked so fucking sexy, fucking into you, face etched in insurmountable pleasure, his hulking body covered in sweat and hickies. “gonna cum in you, make my mistress a mommy,” he moans out, pounding into you with all he has and you have no choice but to take it with your feet at your head.

“pleasepleaseplease, oh my fucking- ah!” you squeal, feeling your- how many orgasms was it now?- building up inside you, a familiar pressure bubbling up behind it. “i’m gonna- gonna cum,” you moan out, miguel still pounding in you. the sound of your skin slapping together fills up your dorm room.

“cum all over me, mama. i need you all over me,” he groans out, his own orgasm seeming to come close as well. you let out a squeal as your orgasm wracks over your body violently, pushing out spurts of clear liquid all over miguel’s abdomen.

“fuuuuckkk, so good,” miguel moans. he thrusts a few more times, fucking you through the rest of your orgasm, and then spills into you with a groan. he pulls out of your sore pussy, laying on his back next to you in your queen bed.

“i hope you know you’re not getting away from this scott free,” you quip, turning your head to look at his side profile.

back to normal, miguel’s face reddens realizing what had just happened. “a- anything you command, mistress.”

[chryblossomjjk]

practice | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut

⇢ WC: 8.1k

⇢ WARNINGS: mentions of bad sexual experiences, nickname you guys might find cringey (sorry babes), praise, a little degradation, a little manhandling, oral sex (f recieving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, very brief mentions of anal play, brief mentions of sex toys and masturbation, spitting, titty sucking, protected sex (hes a hoe but not a dummy), jk is kinda a himbo (scratch that last side note), jk running through twice members lmao sorry girlies, pining, maybe unrequited love, maybe not, ill let u decide, oc is in denial in the beginning, oc has that lemon water coochie!!, daddy kink + daddy kink slander (not seriously!), slight corruption kink

⇢ SUMMARY: you usually spend friday nights on your own. tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, jungkook, decides to pay you a visit.

⇢ NOTES: hi friends!! i’m back with my second fic!! i posted this last night but miss ting had a bad case of the typos rip. so I had it beta'd by @kookstempo pls go give her love >:((( ! i found the smut a little easier to write this time. still not that good lol but not as mentally taxing! oc is totally definitely not a little bit of a projection of me haha thisficwassexuallycathartictowrite i hope you guys like it! i would love to know your thoughts! also would be v cool if you checked out my masterlist. love u bye!!

⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday. 

The night of the week that lures college students out of their suffocating dorm rooms with the promise of parties and alcohol. After days of classes, hours of studying, and minutes of sleep, most people your age spend their weekends unwinding, hopping from frat house to frat house.

One of the many perks of living on campus is the social life. Being surrounded by young adults is exciting. It also means that everyone is horny. Ravenously so. Seriously. Anything with a hole or phallic-shaped appendage is a prime candidate for getting fucked. 

Anything and everyone, except you. 

It wasn’t that you couldn’t get fucked, per se. Although abundant, your options were limited. Given the environment, it was difficult to find a guy you actually felt comfortable with. He didn’t have to be in love with you, but he did have to respect you if he wanted to get anywhere near your sugar walls. With that being said, it was slim pickings.

You coped well, for the most part. But it was hard to shake the lonely feelings that bubbled in your chest from time to time. And the feral ones. Nothing a quick rub from your petite, manicured fingers couldn’t satisfy, you suppose…

Besides, all men do is disappoint you. The only two sexual partners you’ve had thus far were subpar, to say the least. Greedy. Disgusting. Selfish. Not an ounce of concern for your pleasure. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you’ve never orgasmed from sex. Not even close. That left a sour, lemony taste in your mouth. Ever since then, your pussy was on hiatus, locked away in the highest room of the tallest tower, until a worthy knight came to save it from this tortuous dry spell. 

You sigh, peeling the honey-drenched sheet mask off your face and tossing it into the trash with vigor. You eye yourself in the mirror with a scowl. Fluffy, freshly plucked brows knit together as you examine your appearance. You’re wearing a cropped white tank top, nipples poking through the little animated cherubs printed on the front. The baby pink Sailor Moon pajama shorts on your thighs left little to the imagination. White kitty ears headband keeping those annoying baby hairs out of your face. 

You’re cute, right?

Atleast you tried to look cute.

Your roommate, Mina, was visiting family for the weekend, leaving you the dorm to yourself. Without your extraverted lifeline, you decided it was the perfect opportunity to stay in and pamper yourself. 

You’ve already waxed your body, head to toe, with that expensive sugaring wax Mina begged you not to get. ‘It was worth it,’ you thought to yourself when you had spread your peach-scented lotion on the smooth canvas of your legs after the shower.

You even gave yourself a facial. Extractions and all. Much cooler and more productive than partying and getting laid.

You take your headband off, ruffling your thick hair until it falls into place. You reach for your candy-flavored Laneige lip mask, spreading it across your plump pout with your middle finger. Another overpriced purchase.

You exit the bathroom, shuffling towards your twin-sized bed and then falling face first into the plush, ivory duvet. So comfy. It wasn’t even midnight and you were ready to hit the hay. 

You had planned to study a bit before knocking out, but the warm shower left you sleepy. Plus, the past week has been hell. Two papers and an impromptu quiz from your least favorite professor. You were a good student. A great one, even. But you were an overachiever to the core, and still found yourself stressing over assignments you knew you aced.

You let out a small yawn, squinting at the brightness around you. Along the wall beside your bed were vine garlands, embellished with little fairy lights and pink roses. They were such a pain in the ass to put up. It took you and Mina nearly three hours, and a mental breakdown on your behalf, to stick them against the drywall in the right position. High maintenance, but cute, nonetheless. Kinda like you. 

The lights dim as your mind turns hazy, eventually turning into a silent black as sleep clouds your vision. Sweet, blissful sleep. You were teetering into the REM phase when-

Knock. Knock.

The booming noise startles you awake, rattling the brittle wood of your cheaply built door. The wall hangings flutter in its wake. 

Maybe you were being dramatic. The knocks were actually soft and melodic. Almost cheerful as they followed the rhythm of a made-up song. But you were pissed. Even the most heavenly sound would ring demonic and evil in your ears at the moment. 

You shove yourself off of your bed with an exaggerated groan, stomping towards the door and yanking it open, fully prepared to yell at whoever was behind it.

Jeon Jungkook. 

His expression is blank, doe-eyes widening as he takes in your expression. Your body language radiates hostility and violence. The silver barbell glimmers as his thick, dark brows twitch in confusion. He blinks before opening his mouth. “Hey,” he utters hastily. 

Under different circumstances, you would be ecstatic.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Jungkook?” 

“Woah, someone’s cranky,” he laughs hesitantly. “I was bored. Figured you were, too. Mina is gone, right?”

“Are you drunk or something?”

“What- no,” his plump lips form a pout, the matching silver ring on the bottom corner shining as well. 

You sneer at him, pupils darting over his outfit. Oversized gray hoodie, white t-shirt peeking from the unzipped portion at the top. Gray sweatpants. Your gaze lingers on the tight pull of the material in the front. He doesn’t seem drunk, and he isn’t dressed in his usual party attire. 

“I just want to hang out with you. Why are you acting so sus?” 

You roll your eyes, doing everything in your power to exaggerate your irritation. “Why are you here?” 

“Oh, come on, Bambi. Don’t be like that.”

Bambi.

That stupid nickname. 

You and Jungkook had met at a party after you were peer pressured into a game of beer pong. The super boisterous, super attractive stranger ended up being your partner by default. 

"What do you mean you’ve never played before?" He questioned you, voice laced with devastation when he realized you were about to cost him his undefeated streak. 

Despite Jungkook’s best efforts, Mina and her boyfriend, Taehyung, mopped the floor with you. 

"You know what, I like you. You’re a little bitchy but-,” he slurred at the end of the night, helping you gather the discarded solo cups, "Also innocent. Kinda like a baby deer. What the fuck was that movie?"

You answered him curtly with a scowl. 

"Bambi! Right… I can’t wait to ruin you." He was so wasted that night he ended up vomiting off of the second-floor balcony and onto the class president’s Honda Civic. Not drunk enough to forget the awfully humiliating, yet adorable nickname he had bestowed you. 

“Give me one good reason why I should let you in.”

“I have pancakes,” he beams with pride, bunny teeth peeking out. He raises both arms, showing you the crinkled takeout bags in his hands. “Chocolate chip-”

“That’s disgusting,” you scoff. 

“And blueberry,” he retorts with a squint. “Please? I won’t be annoying, I promise.”

You let out a contemplative noise. It wasn’t what you had planned for the night, but you guess company wouldn’t hurt. Especially his company.

If only you could mute your evil brain. 

“I thought you had plans with whatsherface,” you question, stepping aside to let Jungkook enter your room. 

He kicks his slides off at the door, something you’ve drilled into his head with violent words and empty threats. You remember him texting the groupchat a screenshot of his calendar, tonight being marked ‘PUSSY APPOINTMENT’ with the woozy face emoji next to it. The same one that was inked on his middle finger; it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Tonight was one of many slots in his month with the exact same title. That picture was deleted from your phone as soon as you received it. 

“Sana,” he corrects, face unimpressed like he expected you to keep a mental catalog of all his flavors of the week.

You did. Every time a new name was added to the roster, your heart sank. You would never admit it though. 

“I did, but I guess she has a boyfriend now or some shit?” He plops down onto the baby pink area rug beside your bed, immediately digging through the takeout bags. 

“How dare she?” You gasp sarcastically, taking the styrofoam container that he held up for you and sitting criss-cross on your bed.

“I know, right? That’s what I’m saying,” he laughs, opening a syrup packet and pouring it over his pancakes. 

You cringe, foreseeing a sticky, impossible to clean mess all over your floor. “Please don’t fuck up my rug, Jungkook.”

“I won’t,” he mumbles halfheartedly, bringing the pad of his thumb to his mouth. The tip of his tongue pokes out to kitten lick at the sugary liquid before wrapping his plump, pink lips around it.

He sucks gently and then pulls off with a tiny smooch. 

Wow. 

Are you really that far gone? There was no denying that Jungkook was attractive. But were you really that touch starved that you were drooling over every minuscule, minute movement he made? 

“Maybe she was sick of you stringing her along,” you comment, trying to cover up the fact that you were totally just gawking at him.

“Nah,” he murmurs through chubby cheeks, mouth full of pancake. “She knew it was just sex.”

“Did she though? What about Dahyun?”

“Well aware.”

“Jihyo?”

“Yep.”

“Nayeon?”

“Are you slut-shaming me?” He points his plastic fork at you, bringing the opposite hand to his chest in feigned offense. “Because I feel very attacked right now.”

You playfully nudge his shoulder with your thigh-high sock-clad foot, deciding to drop the subject. To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. Jungkook had a reputation on campus. Every girl who involved themselves with him knew what the outcome would be. He was very blunt about his desires and disinterests. Sex being the prior. Commitment being the latter.

But you suppose remaining detached was easier said than done. Something about him was… magnetic. He was bold, yet soft. Obnoxious, but endearing. A sweet talker for sure. And easily the freest person you’ve ever known. Add sex into the equation, and it must be nearly impossible not to fall in love with him…

Hm. That’s enough thinking for the night. 

You need background noise to keep intrusive thoughts at bay. He peeps an ‘I don’t care’ when you ask him what he wants to watch. You take it upon yourself. Sailor Moon it is.

The pancakes keep him preoccupied for a while. You glance down at him every now and then. His eyes sparkle as he watches the cartoon on your phone screen. There’s a little speck of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. His tongue makes an encore appearance, licking it away before fidgeting with his lip. How sinful. 

He starts getting squirmy about halfway through the episode. Antsy hands pull at the strings on the border of the carpet below him. Every now and then he draws a shape and erases it. One of the shapes is a penis, something you’d see on the back of a middle school textbook. 

He scoots with a sigh, pressing his spine against the edge of your bed, and then bending his head back. Fluffy dark strands tickle your legs as he peers up at you. “Can you play with my hair?”

“Why would I do that?” You huff, hot and bothered by the sudden contact.

“It helps me stay still. Please?”

“Oh, um- okay,” you oblige, gulping like you’ve dry swallowed a huge pill. You cautiously card your digits through his hair. It’s so soft and healthy. 

He purrs and closes his eyes. 

He's silent once again, enjoying your touch, even pushing into it a bit. Very cat-like.

That lasts for about three minutes. His inability to not speak every single thought that enters the void of his mind takes over.

‘I just realized they’re all named after planets.’

‘Wait, the moon isn’t a planet, is it?’

‘Why are they dressed so sexy to fight space monsters?’

“Jungkook, shut up!”

“But I’m bored,” he whines. “Is this really how you spend your Friday nights?”

“Excuse me, I’d like to see you take STEM classes for a week and then tell me how you feel,” you contend, leaning over to grab your phone off the nightstand. You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your nipples. It makes your palms clammy. “Sometimes, it’s nice to just chill.”

“You don’t masturbate?” He asks calmly as if he had just inquired about the weather. 

You give him an exasperated look.

“What? That’s how I destress,” he continues, shrugging nonchalantly. “Don’t you have a vibrator?”

“I- no! Why are you asking all these questions?” You shriek, absolutely mortified.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” He lifts his head off of your lap, craning his neck so you can see his appalled expression, your answer leaving him equally as mortified. “Damn, that’s wild,” he tuts in disapproval.

“I would rather not have to smuggle a sex toy into my dorm room, Jungkook,” you retort.

“You can borrow mine,” he smirks, turning his body to face you, obviously relishing in the reactions he’s pulling out of you. “It’s a Hitachi. It’s really strong too, like, most girls don’t even last five minutes.” 

“Why do you have- you know what, nevermind actually!” You clench your eyes shut, poking your fingers into your ears and shaking your head dramatically. Your reaction is mostly out of embarrassment and partly because the thought of him pleasing women who aren’t you hurts for whatever reason. “I’m done with this discussion!”

“Seriously?” He wheezes, thoroughly enjoying your tantrum. He wraps his long, nimble fingers around your wrists, pulling your hands away. Your skin burns under the touch. “I want to get to know you more.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to know-,” you rip out of his grasp, flailing your hands around in circular motions, “-those things.”

“I’m just trying to make conversation,” he frowns. 

“About?”

“Anything.”

“Okay, um...” you look around the room nervously, searching for the right thing to say. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Black. What’s your favorite position?”

“Jungkook!”

“I think missionary is my favorite. Very underrated,” he says, tapping his chin like it’s an answer only an intellectual would’ve given. “The kind where her legs are pushed alllll the way back,” he emphasizes the ‘all’ by balling his hands into fists and lifting them up by his head, showing you exactly where he likes them. “You hit the g-spot perfectly that way.”

You level him with a scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Unamusement written all over. 

“Why are you so mad?” He laughs. “What? You’re embarrassed to talk about sex?” 

A pause. 

“You’re not a virgin, are you?”

“Jungkook, no…” you sigh, rubbing your temples in frustration. “I’m just not like you, okay? I don’t like sex as much as you and everybody else on this fucking campus does!”

He hesitates for a moment as he processes your sudden outburst. The first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless. You can picture the cogs turning in that thick skull of his. 

He inhales sharply, eyebrows raising up to his hairline as if something clicked. His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, cute dimple peeping out from the pull. His head drops as he huffs out a laugh.

“What’s so funny, Jeon?”

“Ah, I see now.”

“See what?” You groan, bothered by his vagueness. 

“Here's what I think, Bambi,” he mumbles in a low tone, sitting up from his spot on the floor so his gaze is aligned with yours. His palms are on either of your crossed legs, fingers curling into your white blanket. Forcing you to make eye contact with him- his pupils are black, nothing like the soft brown you’re accustomed to. “You’re so uptight because you haven’t had sex in a while- good sex, at least.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You say nothing.

“The guys you fuck don’t know how to treat you, am I right? They can’t make you cum?”

Crickets.

Your lack of response tells him the answer.

When you do speak, your words come out shaky. “Well, what makes you any different?” 

He shuffles closer, knocking his forehead right against yours, invading your space. He’s so close that you feel claustrophobic. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“I always make the girl cum.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hums through curled lips as he nods, silver hoops swaying at the motion, nose brushing against yours. “More than once.”

His dilated pupils scan over your body, pausing at your chest for a moment, and then continuing their descent. A hand slides up your bare thigh, the warm touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. He grabs the hem of your shorts between his index and middle fingers, tugging gently. “These are cute.” He licks his lips, making them pink and glossy, like he’s ready to eat you. “I’d like them better somewhere else though.”

“Jungkook…”

And then he's kissing you. 

It’s soft, like he’s afraid to scare you away by putting too much pressure into it. Little does he know you’ve been thinking about this for a while.

All your protesting and fighting up until this point was futile. Your hands unconsciously make their way to his cheeks. You swear you feel him smirking. It’s like he can read your mind, knowing exactly how bad you’ve wanted this.

He prods his tongue against your bottom lip, urging you to let him in. You do. He wraps an arm around your waist and guides you down, hovering over you.

“You taste like candy,” he whispers against your lips, hot and needy. Take that, Mina. A sneaky hand cups you through your shorts, right where he knows your clit is. The thin material does nothing to conceal how wet you are. “Do you taste like candy here too? Can I try?”

You’re anxious, but you can’t stop. Not when he’s so enticing. Not when the rumors of his sexual prowess are swimming around in your mind. Jungkook could ask anything of you and you’d gladly obey. You give him a small nod. 

“Don’t be nervous,” he teases through an airy laugh, breath fanning across your face. It smells like chocolate and syrup. He turns his head and presses a gentle kiss on your fingertips. You swoon.

Hooking his thumbs into the sides of your shorts, he pulls them below your butt. He dips his head down, biting into the side of your thigh. A predator sinking its teeth into its prey. Not hard enough to hurt. It’s just enough to rip a whine from you. “Fuck,” he grumbles, pulling your shorts completely off. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”

He’s been wanting this, too?

“Let’s leave these on though,” he sighs, speaking in reference to your socks. It was something you knew he found sexy, overhearing a graphic conversation with Taehyung about kinks and other filthy things. That may or may not have been the motivation behind your purchase.

You cringe. Being naked in front of someone for the first time in a long time was nerve-wracking. 

“No panties?” Jungkook asks, looking at you quizzically. “Dressed so skimpy, Bambi. All for me?”

“I didn’t know you were gonna show up...”

“Oh shit, you’re right,” he chuckles, caressing your legs with his large thumbs. You appreciate the gesture. 

Cool air brushes against your exposed core when he parts your thighs. His gaze locks onto your dripping center. You whine and cross your arms over your face. Maybe if you squeeze hard enough you’ll revert back into yourself and escape this dreadfully vulnerable feeling.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” he starts, words dying out because his attention is elsewhere. Jungkook has seen a lot of pussy throughout his life, but yours has got to be the, “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. So fucking wet.” He settles back onto his knees, hooking his limbs around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed. 

Jungkook watches in awe as he spreads your lips open with his thumb and index fingers, stealing a peek at your shiny center. He takes a long, languid lick from your pussy to your clit. He moans when the wet muscle dips between your folds, eyes scrunching as his feature contorts into a scowl. You recognize that face. That angry face he makes when he tastes something he finds incredibly yummy. It’s the same one he made when he ate his pancakes. 

Have you really studied him so much that you’ve picked up on his subtle habits? Nevertheless, the fact that he actually seemed to be enjoying going down on you was jarring. You’ve never experienced this before. It felt so fucking good. You were already close and he has barely touched you. You let out a whimper.

“Mm, you’re so responsive,” he notes, absolutely loving the little sounds you’re peeping. Much different than the blaring moans and screams he is used to. Despite the ego boost they give him, your shy whimpers are a welcomed change. Each one makes his cock twitch, forcing him to bring a hand down, palming himself through his sweats. “When’s the last time someone ate you out?”

“Never…”

“I don’t see why not,” he coos sympathetically, shaking his head in disapproval. He gives you another lick, tongue pressed flat against you. “You taste like lemonade, so sweet.” 

That had you absolutely drenched.

You move up onto your elbows, watching as he throws your legs over his broad shoulders. He licks the pad of his thumb, this time actually sinful. He presses it right to your bud, rubbing it before pulling the sensitive skin taut, lifting the hood and exposing your clit. 

He tuts his tongue, whispering something so quietly you barely catch it, only making out a breathy iteration of the word ‘tiny’. Heavy eyes flicker up to yours as he places two soft pecks on it, then blows delicately.

“Jungkook, please…”

“Sorry,” he chuckles, “I won’t tease-,” sentiment interrupted with an open-mouthed kiss, “I know how bad you must want it.” 

He circles the tip of his tongue on your clit before suctioning his lips around it. You gnaw onto your lower lip, face twisting up in pleasure.

This is easily a far better form of self care than what you had planned. 

It’s obvious that this is something Jungkook does a lot. He is a photography major, and has never struck you as someone who is incredibly bright, but the way he touched is strategic. He has spent the better part of the past decade perfecting his craft, studying the way women move their bodies when he applies a certain amount of pressure. The beautiful noises they make when he stimulates them in certain spots. He has the exact equation to make you fall apart.

There is a pattern to it. He latches onto your swollen nub, cheeks hollowing with a few harsh sucks, before licking over it, letting his tongue dip into your entrance. You can’t help the subtle thrusts into his mouth with every glide of his tongue. The consistency had your stomach doing somersaults.

He sinks further down, lapping at your folds, never straying too far from your clit, burying himself so deep into your pussy that the tip of his nose nudges against it. A big palm slides up your torso, reaching under your tank top to grab at your chest, thumb flicking over your hardened nipple.

“Jung- fuck!” You croak, high-pitched and desperate. “I’m close.”

You expect him to pull away. He, instead, acknowledges you with an ‘mhm’, nuzzling even further into your cunt. 

You can’t help the instinctual, or more so learned, shame bubbling in your stomach. Your hips jerk away. Legs close tight around his head, attempting to save him from the brunt of your orgasm. He simply pries them back open, nails digging into your inner thigh. You grasp onto his hair, tugging it back as you curse under your breath.

He doesn’t like that.

He pops off of your clit with a sharp, annoyed growl. “Can you stop?” The stern edge in his voice makes you flinch, releasing your grip immediately. “You don’t have to control every situation. Just relax.” 

“I’m sorry,” you squeak.

His gaze softens immediately. He didn’t want you to apologize and he definitely didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. “You can touch me, Bambi,” he grabs your hands and places them back on his head, encouraging them to tangle in his tresses once again. “Keep me here, though. Wanna make you cum in my mouth.”

It’s strange, being pampered during sex. Taken care of. 

You peer down at him. His mouth and cheeks are dewy, covered in your arousal. Even the tip of his nose is wet. He’s not uncomfortable in the slightest. 

You push him down, giving him the green light to continue. The descent is quick. Starting in your stomach before it shoots through the rest of your body. You throw your head back, teeth digging into your lip as you desperately try to stifle the lewd moans threatening to escape.

Jungkook guides you through it, slowing down towards the tail end of your orgasm. He pulls away with a satisfied hum, standing up from his spot on the floor. “Taste?” He asks, squishing your cheeks with his big hand. His tongue licks right against yours when you stick it out, lips closing into a sloppy kiss. “Good, right?”

You don’t really taste anything, but you nod anyway. Maybe a slight hint of citrus. Or maybe you were delirious after the best orgasm of your life. The only partnered orgasm of your life.

His eyes are scrunched, but you can still see the stars in his dark pupils as he smiles down at you. You mirror him with the opposite expression, irises wide and blown out. He giggles, nuzzling into the side of your face and then nipping at your cheek. “You’re like a space girl,” your heart melts at the Sailor Moon reference. “So clueless. I wanna do everything to you. Teach you everything.”

“Like what?” 

“Have you ever squirted before?” 

You freeze. “No… I don’t think everyone can.”

“That’s not true. Everyone can squirt with a good partner and the right mindset,” he proclaims enthusiastically, shooting you a thumbs up. The tent in his pants on full display.

“Right mindset?” You giggle, raising a brow at him. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty intense.” He grabs a half-empty water bottle, your water bottle, off the nightstand, taking a big sip. “I can get you there,” he states, a droplet of water dripping down his chin. “You have to listen to me, though. You can continue your ‘girlboss’ bullshit after I’m done with you.”

You roll your eyes. If any other man said that to you, you would be livid. You would literally rain hellfire upon them. But it’s Jungkook. You know he’s joking, and the soft spot you have for him prevents you from ripping him a new one. 

He smiles when you agree, pecking your cheek before unzipping his hoodie and shrugging it off his shoulders. You watch his muscles work. Toned, firm biceps exposed for your viewing pleasures. He recently recolored the tattoos on his right arm. 

You remember him venting about his parents’ disapproval of them, and his major, when he walked you to your dorm after a party a few weeks ago. It was the only time you’ve ever seen the fun-loving, jovial man feel melancholic. You coin that night the night you developed... whatever it was that you have for him now.

“Alright,” he gestures to the cotton sweater, now spread out on your bed. “Lay here.”

“Why?”

“I mean…” he looks at you like you’re stupid. “You don’t want to get this wet, right?” He counters, pinching your blanket.

Cockiness just oozes out of him. It makes wetness ooze out of you. 

You comply, laying down on the soft material. It’s warm and smells like the delicate linen cologne he normally wears. You bask in the scent.

“I usually use lube for this, but…” he clicks his tongue, knowing you don’t have any. “We can make it work.” Leaning down, he lets a string of spit land on your clit. It tickles as it trickles down your folds. He’s quick to collect it with his fingertips, smearing the moisture all over.

“Take your top off, please. I wanna see those pretty tits.”

It’s barely a top. The jagged, raw hem only conceals half of your perked nipples. How ironic is it that you’re wearing an angel print tank while being absolutely defiled. You sit up, taking it off easily and tossing it on the floor before laying back down. 

“It’s not going to hurt, is it?” You wonder, reflecting on his earlier statements.

“Why, you nervous?” He teases with a lopsided grin. It drops when he sees the apprehensive look on your face. “It shouldn’t hurt, but if it does you’ll tell me, right?”

“Right,” you moan, another drop of saliva hitting your pussy. 

“Hold your legs up, keep them open,” he orders, sucking back the extra spit with a hiss.

Pink nails curl under your thighs, bringing them up to your chest just as Jungkook instructed. He pops his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, bringing them down to tease at your entrance before slipping in, palm facing up.

There’s an adjustment period, his fingers being much bigger than your own. You’re so aroused that the tenderness subsides quickly. “Fuck,” you yelp when he starts gently petting at your g-spot.

He doesn’t jam his fingers into you carelessly, an unpleasant sensation you’ve been subjected to in the past. His digits never leave you. Instead, they move in a sensual curl that makes you purr. Every touch is focused, intricately placed on that delicious spot.

“Pussy so wet,” his voice comes out as strained as his pants. He sounds so turned on and filled with lust. It makes you clamp around his fingers. He lets out the tiniest moan, using his free hand to grab yours, sucking three fingers into his mouth. “Touch your clit for me.”

You bring your hand down, rubbing side to side. “Uh-uh, circles.” 

Immediately, you follow his command. You look so delicious he can’t help himself, bending at the waist to latch onto one of your nipples.

“Please, Jungkook, more…”

“Yeah?” He mumbles against your chest, sending vibrations through the sensitive skin. You nod frantically. “I usually don’t give in this easily, but I think you deserve it. Been such a good girl. You can have more, Bambi.” You know it’s just sex talk. A stream of consciousness fueled by his horniness. All the blood leaving his head to fill his cock, making him more dumb than usual, but you can’t help but feel special. 

“It’s going to build up fast, okay?”

You mumble a small ‘mhm’. How bad can it really be?

Jungkook starts moving his hand rapidly, fingers thrashing up and down. There's so much force behind his movements that your hips lift and dip. 

You’re overwhelmed. Constant, vigorous stimulation right to your g-spot. A strange swelling feeling starts pooling in your lower stomach. High-pitched whimpery moans and wet squelching noises fill the room.

“J- daddy, fuck!” It is so intense you can’t form a coherent sentence. There’s faint laughter in the background. “No, no, no…” you plead, wrapping your hand around his wrist, nails digging into his skin. It’s too good. So good that it made you scared.

His movements halt. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, too much… fuck!” You shout when he continues at the same intensity, your body thrashing wildly. You feel out of control.

“Shh,” he whispers softly. “You can take it. Just let it happen.”

You inhale sharply, doing your best to calm down. It’s difficult when he keeps touching you like that. Your fingers curl into his sweater, bracing yourself. As soon as you stop fighting that full feeling, as soon as you loosen the tense muscles, it’s going to hit you.

You relax and a wave of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt ripples over you.

There’s an intense, world-shattering, euphoric release.

And then nothing. 

Your head is empty. Your ears ring. Your vision is distorted by white splotches. 

Complete solace.

Your senses come back after a few minutes of heavy breathing. It’s fuzzy, but you can see the ceiling fan swirling above you.

There’s a metallic taste on your tongue. 

You can feel droplets trickling down your inner thighs, a damp puddle under your butt, and a warm set of lips on your temple.

“Welcome back to planet Earth,” Jungkook jokes, pushing away the wispy flyaways that stick to your forehead. You blink absently as you slowly make out his features. You swear there’s a glowing aura around him. “You good?” 

“So good,” you confirm halfheartedly. “You’re so good.”

“You came so much,” he hums in satisfaction, placing a few pecks against your jaw. Jungkook was actually surprised at how much wetness he coaxed out of you. You just kept on cumming. The prettiest waterfall he’s ever seen. Damp fingers brush up and down your bicep, a comforting gesture. “You called me daddy.”

“Shut up,” you groan, covering your face. “Don’t talk about it.”

“I won’t, it was fucking gross,” he laughs, smiling down at you so genuinely that it reaches his eyes. This was just a hookup, you assume, but he’s just so pretty. You can’t stop yourself from pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He reciprocates. It feels so intimate. Too intimate for a pair of friends. You’re so tired but you want more. Everything.

“Take this off, please,” you ball the white fabric of his shirt into your tiny fists, mimicking his words from earlier. “Let me see those pretty tits.”

He quirks a brow at you, standing up straight and pulling his shirt off by the collar. It’s discarded onto the floor, with all the other useless, bothersome items.

His tits are pretty. Chest flushed red from exertion, nipples spiked and tiny. His body is fit, but not overly muscular. Lean and toned. Just what you like.

You snake your legs around his cinched waist, constricting his pelvis flush against yours. 

“Is it my turn now?” He says, loving your sudden burst of confidence. His jaw goes slack when you start grinding on his clothed cock. There’s a slick spot where your bodies meet, heather gray turning dark as the fabric dampens. Jungkook lets you play with him for a bit, rutting against you until he physically cannot stand it anymore. “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so bad.”

“Then do it,” you whimper, growing impatient. He sighs, hand coming down to fiddle with the sweater underneath you. You crane your neck, watching curiously as he pulls a square packet out of the pocket. 

There’s a sharp pain in your chest when you see it. “Did you plan on us hooking up?”

“Maybe,” he contends playfully. All the amusement in his face disappears when he flicks his bangs back and sees yours. Hurt and disappointed. “I always keep condoms on me, you know that,” he explains, voice soft and wary. 

It makes sense. He was sexually active. Very much so.

That scares you. You could possibly be just another girl he’s sexually active with. A last ditch effort to get laid because the first option bailed. The puzzle pieces start coming together.

You look him in the eyes. His pupils are brown again. They look pleading, concerned for your wellbeing. Afraid they’ve tarnished something so delicate. You can’t tell if it’s just your delusions, post-orgasm bliss. All you know is you never want him to stop looking at you the way he is right now.

“Can I put it on?” You ask, pointing at the condom in his hand, desperate to break the tension.

“I- sure,” he retorts, exhaling deeply like he was holding his breath, relieved. He gives it to you, using his other hand to pull his pants by the waistband, stopping mid-thigh. Too rushed and eager to take them off completely. 

He didn’t have underwear on either.

You squint, trying to read the white font on the packet. Large.

You glance up, eyes bulging out of your skull when they land on his cock. It’s big. So aroused that it points straight up, resting on his abdomen. The tip is bright pink, standing out against the background of his smooth milky pelvis. It’s shiny with precum, a little bead sitting right at the slight. Your gaze trails up the veiny underside, following the acute upward curve. You gulp.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, jittery hands tearing open the foil packet. You cautiously wrap your hand around the shaft. It’s so firm. Rock solid and touch starved. It jumps in your palm as you slip the sticky rubber down, making sure to stroke him along the way. “Big, thas’ all.”

He nods, the corner of his lips pulling up in a smirk. He can tell your words are equally as worried as they are complimentative, though. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises, holding on to your ankle to lift your leg, kissing it through your white sock. Gaze locked on you, making sure you’re watching and that you know he can be soft with you.

He bends both of your knees up to your chest, tapping your outer thigh, indicating he wants you to hold them again. Tattooed knuckles wrap around the base of his cock, laying it flat against your pelvis. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath when he sees the tip reaches just below your belly button, knowing exactly what to envision when he’s inside you. His cock so deep it’s in your stomach.

He smacks the shaft between your folds. Filthy, wet slapping noises overpower your coos and purrs. The tip tickles your entrance, rubbing up and down your folds, before he brings it to your abused clit again, flicking it up and down like a light switch. Watching your face intently to gauge your reaction, looking for any prick of discomfort. 

“Put it in,” you frown, growing impatient.

“So needy,” Jungkook teases, gripping his cock right under the crown and pushing in. Only the tip. He uses his fingers as a buffer, trying not to give too much too fast. Pulling back agonizingly slow and then diving back in, giving you a little bit more length this time. It was only an inch or so, but the stretch burned. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill.

He repeats this process, working you open little by little until he’s buried to the hilt. He lets out a pained grunt, overwhelmed by the way your warm wet walls just suffocate him. “Fuck, tightest pussy ever.”

You clench your eyes shut, trying to ease the feeling of getting impaled. Jungkook is so big. The veins that run along his shaft, the thickness, the curve. He leans down and pecks your nose sweetly. His thumb, rubbing tight circles against your clit, provides a decent distraction. You focus on the pleasure instead of the pain.

“Feel okay, Bambi?” He coos, feeling you relax under him. “Can I move?”

With furrowed brows, he pulls out a few inches before thrusting back in slowly. Heavy eyes glued on the way your lips petal around him when he gives you more. The way they resist when takes his cock away. “Good girl,” he praises, voice raspy as he tries his best to maintain a slow, shallow pace. “You take it so well.”

Any pang of discomfort is gone. He prepped you so well that there’s no friction, just seamless glides in and out of your leaking cunt. The upturned tip of his cock tickles that sweet spot in you. You moan, digging your almond-shaped nails into your thighs, arching your back for more.

Jungkook sees your body language. He knows what to do in this situation. One of the most useful sex tips he’s ever learned. He leans forward, pressing his chest against yours, swollen lips latching onto your neck. They suck a sore spot that his tongue quickly soothes over. “Hold on to me,” he commands, wet pout smushed to your skin. 

You let go of your thighs, leaving little crescent indents on the surface, and throw your arms around his shoulders. Hooking your knees into the bend of his elbows, Jungkook hoists you up effortlessly, supporting your weight with his large palms on your ass. The change in position spreads you even further, slides him in even deeper.

“Mmm, f-,” you moan, words cut short when he starts bouncing you up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Mmm, I knew it,” he chuckles sadistically, right into your ear. “I knew you were just waiting to be ruined. So fucking high-strung and- fuck!” He can feel your arousal dripping down to his balls. “Controlling.”

Arguing is pointless. You swear he's in your head, the tip of his cock scrambling your brain around so that you can’t even think straight. All you can think about is him.

You cling to him, resting your cheek against his shoulder as he lifts you in the air. Letting him have his way with you. You’re never felt more alive. 

‘Orgasms are the pinnacle of the human experience,’ you recall Jungkook telling you one day at the library. At the time, you rolled your eyes. Now, you know exactly what he meant. 

“You just needed some dick, huh? My dick?” You nod, drooling against his skin. “Doesn’t it feel good to let go?” All you can get out is a little moan.

A glint flickers in the corner of your eye. Mina’s mirror. It’s leaning against the wall right in front of you. You can see the expanse of his back. The taut skin on his shoulder blades. Biceps bulging as he moves you. His pants slid down to his knees, so you can see his cute butt dimpling when he thrusts up. Muscles working to make you cum.

“Okay,” he huffs, more to himself than you. Your pussy was so good that it derailed his original plan. Jungkook tosses you up a little, getting a more secure hold as he wraps an arm around your waist. The motion makes his cock slip out, the loss of contact makes you whine.

His free hand tosses his soiled hoodie out of the way. You cringe, making a mental note to mop tomorrow morning.

He places one of your fancy, cooling-gel pillows on the edge of the bed, laying you down on top of it. Your hips are elevated, tilted upwards. Giving him a clear view of your glowy core. He catches a glimpse of the only place he hasn’t destroyed.

“What about this?” He coos, pressing the pad of his thumb right against your clenching hole.

You squeak, shaking your head. Baby steps.

“Alright,” he chuckles, hand retreating promptly. “Maybe next time.”

He wants to do this again. Your heart flutters.

You watch as he guides himself back in, stuffing you to the brim in one swift motion. Much less cautious than earlier. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly. The pillow and his curve doing wonders. Your eyes roll back as your head hits the bed. “Like that, right?” He laughs, snapping into you. 

“Yeah, Jungkook,” you moan out, gripping your ankles and bringing them up by your head, just how he likes. “Don’t stop.”

He could’ve busted right then and there. 

“Fuck, keep saying my name,” he groans, eyes glancing up to your perky tits, jiggling freely with every snap of his hips. His pupils sneak down further, watching his cock plow into your tight, wet cunt, leaving it dewy.

You call his name like a metronome, ‘Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook’. Voice airy, following the rhythm of his hips. It makes him move harder and faster, feeling that familiar pooling at the base of his shaft.

Just like everything about him, his strokes are fluid. His hips aren’t locked and stiff. They move in a dip and roll that makes your toes curl. His pelvis mushes against your clit when he thrusts all the way in, balls smacking against the curve of your ass. It feels delicious. Your third orgasm of the night is approaching fast.

“You cumming, Bambi?” He hums, already recognizing the way your thick brows pull together when you're close. The way your hips rut a little, naturally guiding you to your orgasm.

“Mhm, make me cum Jungkook,” you mewl.

He hovers over you, placing his hands on top of yours, bending your legs back farther. Taking long, violent plunges into you. So close to a piledriver. He’s basically fucking you into the mattress, bed frame cracking against the wall beside it. One of your vine garlands falls down, but you’re so close you can’t even bring yourself to care. 

Your climaxes blend together. You first, clenching and unclenching around his length. Moans coming out sporadic and your shoulders off the bed. Legs trembling in his hands.

His orgasm is stunning. 

“Ah- fuck. I’m cumming,” he croaks through snarled teeth, head dropping to watch where you connect. Something he does often, you notice. He doesn’t stop, even after he spills into the condom, fucking you until he’s completely drained. You whimper, sensitive from the overstimulation. 

“Damn,” Jungkook huffs out a laugh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You fist the wavy strands at the back of his head, a little damp. 

“Thank you,” you speak shyly.

“I know you’re new to this,” he lifts up and looks at you quizzically, amusement tickling his features, “But that’s kinda a weird thing to say after someone fucks you.”

You laugh with him, eyes darting over his face. He has a small scar on his cheek, something you’ve never noticed before. 

“No, I just mean-” you cringe when he pulls out of you, feeling empty. “You’re the only guy who’s ever… I don’t know. You’re just different.”

He smiles with twinkling eyes, tying a knot at the end of the condom and tossing it into the pink trash can beside your nightstand. “You’re different, too,” he mirrors, plopping down onto the bed next to you. “Special.”

Special.

You sigh into his lips when he gives you a soft peck, thumb brushing against the newfound mark of his face. “I’m sorry that I made you do all the work.”

“Nah, don’t worry. Making you feel good makes me feel good.” His words are sweet but there’s a naughty glint in his eyes. “Besides, you can think of this as a practice round.”

“Practice round?”

He hums in conformation, tapping your ass lightly, making it ripple against his hand. “Alright, go take a leak before you get a UTI.” He laughs when you push his shoulder. The same old blunt, shameless Jungkook.

He stops you before you disappear into the bathroom. “I hope this won’t make things awkward between us. Like, we’re still friends, right?”

Friends.

It takes all of your strength to give him a nod. You ponder over his words as you clean up in the bathroom. Why did you feel so... conflicted? You’re so happy, but you’re also kinda sad. It’s like your mood solely depends on Jungkook. His words have the power to pull you in whatever direction he pleases. You stare at yourself in the mirror.

All these emotions must mean you have a crush on him.

You sigh, flicking off the light and then heading back into your room.

Jungkook is hunkered down in your sea of pillows, soft snores leaving his parted lips. Chest rising and falling steadily. Hair messy, fanned around him.

He looks so beautiful and peaceful.

You tilt your head at the sight. He always told you that he never spends the night after a hookup.

The blanket is only covering his pelvis, strong legs poking out from underneath. His sweats are still on his ankles. You giggle, attempting to slide them off without waking him.

“Bambi,” he mutters sleepily, opening his big arms. “C’mere.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. You shuffle into bed, throwing the covers over both of your bare bodies. 

He wraps his arms around you, pecking your forehead before drifting back into slumber.

Fuck.

What have you gotten yourself into?

© chryblossomjjk 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost]

[just-some-random-blogger]

hello!! i loved your cregan x martell!reader work sm 😭😭 could you plz bless us with another one? i'm so curious about this pairing, was their marriage arranged or a love match? does little rickon exist in this au? what abt the war?

i'd be delighted to read more about them, if you're willing to write, of course :) thank you in advance!! i adore your writing <3

Heat

You take your husband to Dorne for your sister's wedding. He fairs horribly in the heat.

Cregan Stark x Martell!Reader | 600< | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, dramatic!cregan, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: HI NONNIE! this was my firs req since i closed em so YAY US (and it took me so long to write it lmao). it's just a lil blurb but i hope you like it! also this is the fic in question.

Tagging: @sloanexx

The Lord of Winterfell was leading the travelling party. We were deep in Dorne; Sunspear was already within view. And although the fearsome wolf of the North was not one you could easily defeat, he was steadily losing to the dessert sun.

"Cregan," I call out from my horse beside him, "you will get sun burnt if you keep your back bare."

The Warden of the North had one by one removed the clothes off his back. His face, chest, and back was flush and irritated in more ways than one as he looked at me, "and if I put a shirt on," his brows furrow, "I will faint because of the heat."

With a groan, I remove the silk shawl off my shoulders and I steer my horse closer to his. I place the the fabric on his burning flesh, immediately making him whimper. He shrug it off, "I'm sweaty."

"Cregan," I glare and grab my shawl before it drops, "you're overheating."

He rides faster.

"Cregan," I follow, "come here."

He gallops off as quickly as possible, running straight towards the gates of Sunspear. I am taken aback by his sudden fleeing. I look over to the rest of the party, all of which were Northerners equally melting in the heat, and decide to gallop into Sunspear as well for their sake.

Upon my arrival, I was greeted by many people, all of which expressed their delight to see me again. I greet them with glee as I dismount. I instruct the servants to attend to the men and give them something to cool off with.

"Sister!"

"Sister," I call back with a smile.

My younger sister, Calliope, embraces me and kisses my cheeks. I return her affection and brush her hair behind her ear, "you have grown more radiant since last I saw you, my love. Your groom is blessed to have you."

She giggles, "as is yours" she looks me up and down, "is this a glow of an expecting mother?"

"If it be the will of the gods," I smile and link arms with her, "Lord Stark has been most ardent in his duties."

We share a laugh.

Calliope leans in and raises a brow, "you should have brought a bit of snow with you, sister. I think your wolf has jumped into garden fountain."

"He what?"

My sister and I run off to the gardens, and sure enough, there laid the hulking man, body barely even submerged into the water.

"Cregan!" I snap, releasing my sister to fish out my husband, "you giant oaf!"

The man slowly sits up. He wipes water away from his face and smiles, "hello, beautiful wife."

"Get out of the fountain."

He spits out water.

"There are many pools in Sunspear where you actually fit," I reach a hand out.

He crawls over and takes my hand, only to pull me closer and kiss me. His dripping hand comes to my cheek. I whimper. He pulls away and smiles, "will you be joining me?"

I press my lips into a line, "get out of the pool, Stark."

The water sloshes as he gets on his knees and climbs out, "yes, Stark."

Water spills and drips onto the floor as Cregan stands next to me. My sister, Calliope, giggles from behind me. The man looks at her as she speaks, "it might do you well to know the nights at Dorne are cooler, my lord."

I make a face and pull my skirt away when it begins to absorb the pooling fountain water. Cregan notices this and grabs me by the waist, pulling me tightly against him.

"Cregan!"

He smirks and kisses my neck. I glare at him and he smirks at my sister, "I should hope so. My lady keeps me warm at night."

[ivrousae]

- Take A Chance With Me ✩°｡⋆⸜ 🦢✮

Synopsis: You and Gunwook have had a complicated history with each other since ages ago, but a 7-day trip changed it all for you both.

Genre: fluff, angst (with a good ending), academic rivals, enemies to lovers, childhood friends

Pairing: Gunwook X Fem!reader

Word count: 9.5k (lol………..)

Warnings: skinship, kissing, cursing, a lot of teasing, mentions of wearing make up, pet names, a lot of sensitive topics (parents, family, grades/academics, etc), please tell me if i missed some

A/N: there WILL be so many typos and grammar error bcs I did not double check hehe, I got confused about where I should have them go for the trip, and because I’m Indonesian, I was just like “Oh, Bali it is” LMAO, and let’s act like everyone In the story already has their driver's license☝🏻, OH, and play your sad playlist from day 3 until the end of day 4 for a better experience😋😋😋

You and Gunwook have known each other for basically your whole life, things were okay between the two of you up until the first year of middle school, at first, the two of you drifted from each other, he joined the soccer club, giving him a new group of friends, while you have your own, but the two of you have gotten a little competitive with each other, academically, creatively, or just generally.

There had never been a single day where the two of you didn't bicker with each other, now that is if you guys even talk with one another, other days are just filled with your own life, no interactions what so ever.

You’d be lying if you said that there has never been a day where you weren’t sad that your friendship with Gunwook changed so drastically in a snap of a finger, but that was way back during middle school, it’s safe to say that you’ve learned to accept it.

────────────

“UGH, Y/N WHAT IS TAKING SO LONG?” Your best friend Yunjin asked on the phone “Girl, I’m right behind your car,” you said as you rolled your eyes before hanging up the phone and opening the door of Yunjin’s car.

“Oh, HEY BAE! I’m so excited about this trip, I can’t wait to finally have some days off from these assignments” Yunjin laughs as she starts her car and drives away from your house “Is everyone on their way to the airport yet?” you asked “yup, they’re on their way” she smiled. The one-hour drive to the airport was filled with laughter and screams as your favorite songs played on the Bluetooth.

.

As both of you arrived at the airport, you noticed that your other friends had also arrived, Gyuvin, Ricky, Matthew, Sheon, Winter, and…Gunwook!?

“Yunjin???” You stopped in your tracks the second you saw Gunwook standing with the other guys in the waiting room “Huh? What?” “You didn’t tell me Gunwook will be coming?” You spoke out, a little frustrated from the sudden news “Oh…see, because I knew you wouldn’t wanna come if you knew that Gunwook was coming, so I didn't tell you about that, sorry..” she laughed nervously “You should’ve told me? Now I’ll have to deal with his ass for the rest of the week, this is not any better than 50 assignments, JENNIFER.” “WOAH, you even brought up my English name and all, MY BAD?!?!?!” “Whatever” You shrugged, continuing your path to the waiting room to meet with the others.

Let’s all be honest, we all know the nonchalant face you have while you walk over there was all an act, you hated the fact that you’ll have to put up with him, but you don’t wanna seem like a sensitive no fun loser in front of him, that’ll just give him more reasons to tease you.

“Y/N!!! YUNJIN!!!” The girls shouted in excitement, their faces were occupied with bright smiles as they ran to hug you and Yunjin, while the guys just smiled and waved before continuing their conversation.

.

After an hour or two, the plane has finally boarded. You sat down with Yunjin, Winter sat down with Sheon, Ricky sat down with Matthew, and Gyuvin sat down with Gunwook, unfortunately, their seat was behind yours and Yunjin’s.

“Hey, Y/n, lend me your phone real quick” Gyuvin reached out his hands while tapping your shoulders “For what?” you asked confused by his sudden request “I need to search for something, my battery died” he responded. You handed him the phone, a little concerned, but what is he gonna do anyways?

After a few minutes, he returned your phone, the second you opened your gallery, it was filled with silly selfies that Gyuvin and Gunwook had taken, “Was your battery even out?” you looked back to him “Nope” he chuckled while scrolling thru his phone.

.

A few hours have passed, and the 8 of you have finally arrived at your destination, Bali! You and your friends used the car that you guys rented to go to the Villa you’re staying at for the week, entering the car, Gunwook sat in the driver’s seat while the others were in the passenger’s seat. “You’re driving?…” You asked a little concerned “Yeah? I’m a good driver, trust” he laughed, putting on the seatbelt before driving “If I die, I swear to god Gunwook I’ll be keeping you awake for the rest of your life” “Go on” he replied nonchalantly while he starts driving.

“Can someone put on some music? It’s kinda quiet in here” Ricky sighed “Ooooo yes! I have the perfect playlist for this” Winter responded, pulling out her phone to open an app. Once again, the drive to the villa was filled with laughs and screams as your favorite songs played on the Bluetooth.

{ Section 1 - The trip! }

- Day 1

☆ 3.45 PM

When you arrived at the villa, you were happy to be there of course, but you were a bit too drained to join the others talking in the living room, so you decided to excuse yourself to your bedroom, “Guys, I'm gonna go clean up and rest for a bit, I’ll join you guys later on” You smiled, taking your bags with you to the bedroom.

You took a deep breath while you lay down on the bed, the room was cold, and the glass wall with the glass door in front of your bed led to a balcony, which showed a view of the pool in the backyard and the beach behind it have given you the best atmosphere ever.

You get up from your bed to go to the bathroom inside of your bedroom, removing your make-up before getting into the shower. You were drowned in the warmth of the shower, and the sudden rush of freshness yet comfort took over your tired body, finally waking you up for reality, the good thing is, you’re out on a trip with your friends, the bad thing is, one of the ‘friends’ is Gunwook.

After your warm shower, you go back to your room and change into something more comfortable before plopping yourself onto the bed and scrolling down on your phone. Without noticing, scrolling down on your phone has slowly drifted you to sleep.

☆ 5.40 PM

You woke up from your nap due to someone softly shaking you “Huh?” you said confused “God, you’re finally awake, get up, we’re gonna go get dinner,” Gunwook said while opening the curtains “Let me sleep in for another 5 minutes” you groaned, putting a pillow over your head “Fine, I only woke you up because everyone else is already getting ready, if we leave you then don’t blame it on me” he shrugged, leaving your bedroom and shutting the doors “Ughhhh, fine I’ll get up” you whined tiredly, sitting down on your bed to gather up your sober self first.

After getting ready, You went out of your bedroom to see that everyone else was sitting down in the living room while waiting for you “Oh my god, took you long enough” Sheon complained, standing up from the couch “I was taking a nap” you laughed “Okay okay, C’mon, we don’t have much time” Matthew spoke out while taking the car keys on the table.

☆ 7.05 PM

“I’m sitting beside you?” Gunwook said unhappily while turning off his phone “If it was my choice, I’d be sitting at a different table from you, so if you want to complain, don’t say it to me” You rolled your eyes “Can you guys not argue for once?” Yunjin asked while looking at the both of you up and down “No” the both of you replied at the same time “Suit yourself” she sighed.

“Gunwook, lend me that spoon,” you said while pointing at the spoon beside him “Take it yourself” he replied “Bitch?” “I’m kidding” he laughed, giving you a gentle push on the shoulders before handing you the spoon “Thanks” you smiled sarcastically.

The breezy air at night on the beach has given the restaurant such a cozy vibe, the most surprising thing, is that you still feel comfortable in there even when you’re sitting next to the person you hate the most.

The warm delicate food filled your and your friend’s stomachs in the best way possible, it’s safe to say that the dinner went smoothly!

☆ 11.55 PM

After a long tiring night, good sleep is all that you need, when you’ve arrived at your villa, you cleaned yourself up and went straight to bed.

.

- Day 2

☆ 7.30 AM

You wake up from your slumber, and a glimpse of the sun shines through the curtains blinding your eyes “That’s bright” you say in your sleepy voice.

You got out of bed and washed your face before exiting your bedroom, You were greeted by Gunwook who was making himself some breakfast “A lion’s out of her cage” he said teasingly “Shut up” you said quietly “Where is everyone else?” “They’re still asleep, why are you awake so early always?” he asked “I don’t know. My body just decided to wake up” You laid down on the couch, eyes still sleepy “Cool, get off I wanna sit down” Gunwook declared while holding a plate of food “No? Sit down on the ground” He clicked his tongue before pulling you out of the couch “You’re so annoying” You groaned, getting up from the ground and walking to the kitchen “If I’m annoying then you should go and check out what’s wrong with you” he scoffed as he searched for some shows to watch on the TV.

“Why are you guys so loud? It’s too early for this” Gyuvin got out of his room, hair messy and face sleepy “If your friend isn’t so bitchy, we wouldn’t be so loud” You said while slowly taking a glance at Gunwook “C’mon, he’s your friend too Y/n” Gyuvin laughed “No he’s not?” “No I’m not?” Both of you said in sync “Oh!” Gyuvin reacted “I tried, I’m going back to sleep” He entered his room and shut the door.

☆ 9.15 AM

Finally, everyone is awake! The 8 of you guys sat down together in the backyard of the villa, having random conversations while drinking some fresh beverages.

You guys spent the rest of the day out shopping and hunting for some traditional food, and of course, you guys had to visit the beach and experience the beauty there.

☆ 10.30 PM

The day has passed and it’s finally nighttime, you and your friends sat around a bonfire while having deep conversations, silly conversations, stupid conversations, and even drunk confessions on a sober brain. At this moment of the day, all 8 of you have grown to connect more, the bond between all of you has grown to be stronger than before, and what’s most important, is that all of you understand each other more, as shocking as this will sound, you and Gunwook have somehow slowly understood each other more, no, that doesn’t break the hatred you both have for each other, but it delivered the both of you some understanding

“Oh c’mon Ricky that’s such a dumb confession” Sheon scoffed “What? I literally just confessed my love for strawberries to you guys?” “Yeah, and we know about that already you dumbass” Winter chuckled “Hmmm, Gunwook, how bout you? Do you have any confessions?” Matthew asked, “Maybe about how you’re able to achieve the title of ‘best student award’ every year?” he chuckled “Oh..honestly, I think I just grew up with my parents having to force my academic scores to be high, even with the titles that I’ve gotten these past few years, they’re still not satisfied” he lets out a soft chuckle, a forced one for sure, “But you’re always first in class? Let alone class, our whole grade?!” Gyuvin spoke out shocked by Gunwook’s confession “It’s hard to satisfy them, dude, but it’s fine, really, I’ve already grown to accept it” he laughed

“Y/n, you good? Why are you so quiet?” Yunjin asked concerned “Hm? Yeah, I’m good, I’m just a little tired” You smiled “If you’re tired you can just go back inside and sleep, it’s getting late anyways!” Sheon mentioned while checking the time on her phone “No no, it’s okay, I’ll stay” “Just sleep, if you stay you’ll just end up falling asleep” Gunwook said teasingly yet softly at the same time “You know what guys, I’m also getting a little tired, let’s end today and go to sleep” Winter stood up while taking her stuff “Okayy, good night guys” Yunjin enunciated and everyone went back inside to their own bedrooms.

There’s something about that conversation keeping you up that night, you asked yourself “Am I just over-sensitive? Or am I just jealous?” while staring up at the dark ceiling of the bedroom. Ever since your rivalry with Gunwook started in middle school, You grew up with this pressure in your heart, constantly telling yourself to just..be better than him. You’ve always been compared to him, even by your parents, as much as you work for something. Your achievement can never be better than Gunwook’s, he’s first in class, so why are you always second? You work equally just as hard as him? And if you finally beat Gunwook on something, people would still have their focus on Gunwook, Okay?! He’s the popular smart soccer player in school that everybody has a crush on, but all you’ve ever asked for is to be appreciated.

“This is dumb” you sighed, holding back tears and putting a blanket over your body, letting yourself fall asleep.

.

- Day 3

☆ 9.15 AM

“Hey you seem like you’re in a bad mood, what’s wrong?” Gyuvin asked you “Nothing’s wrong? Just still a little sleepy, you know?” “I see, well if you’re really that tired just go back to sleep, we don’t have anything to do yet anyway,” he said while scrolling through his phone.

“Hey, y/n, come here!” Yunjin shouted from the kitchen “Coming!” you walked over to the kitchen “Help me make some cookies” she laughed “Call for Gunwook too, I need him to help prepare the ingredients” “Okay, hold up” you smiled, walking yourself to Gunwook’s room before knocking on his door “Come in” he shouted “Yunjin wants you to help her prepare some ingredients for making cookies, c’mon” you leaned over the door frame “Fine, give me a minute”

You went back downstairs and after a few minutes of waiting, Gunwook finally came down to help “What do you need help with?” he asked “Can you take the bowl on the top shelf?” “Yeah, hold on” he answered, reaching up for the bowl with such ease.

The baking session for the three of you was interesting, You guys honestly made a big mess and Gunwook kept on putting flour on your face, but the cookies turned out pretty good so you couldn’t even complain about it.

☆ 00.40 AM

The day ended, and everybody was asleep, but yet again, something was bothering you, you hated it, you hated having that weird burden inside of you. The worst part of it is that you know this is all because of your jealousy toward Gunwook, you didn’t want to be jealous of him, but you were.

You decided that you needed something to drink, so you went out of your bedroom to get something from the kitchen, but the sight of Gunwook sitting down on one of the chairs on the kitchen’s aisle stopped you, you hesitated, but you went for it.

You tried your best to avoid eye contact with him while taking some water from the dispenser, but knowing that he was looking at you made it hard for you to not look at him back.

“Hey, Gunwook..” You sighed “I’ve tried to keep this to myself, but sometimes it’s so hard to act as if I don't hold anything against you but I do.” you scoffed “Y/n” he spoke out with a low tone “Look, I’m sorry that your parents have put so much pressure on you, I’m sorry that it’s hard for you to satisfy them, but do you always have to steal every single fucking thing from me Gunwook?” “What?” he scoffed “What is it that I have stolen from you, huh? Everything they’ve pressured me to do is all because of YOU, y/n.” “You don’t understand Gunwook, All these years, you’ve been number one, constantly, number one, number one, and number one, and where am I? What place am I entitled to? Second. All this time I’ve lost to you, all attention is on you, all of the pride goes to you Gunwook. Oh, look! Park gunwook! The best student in the school huh? And then there's Me, Y/n, the student who studies day and night just to be a tutor for lacking students without being appreciated at all. You know my parents loved you like their son Gunwook, maybe you don’t notice this but I grew up being compared to you and it isn’t fair?! You’ve stolen everything from me, the least you can spare for me is just to let me make my parents proud, wook..” Each word gets louder and louder from all the rage you’ve held.

Pushing his shoulders with your fingers on every sentence to express your anger, Gunwook stood there listening to your rage, before he took a deep breath

“Look, I wasn’t trying to hurt you Y/n and I’m sorry if I did, but I never stole your chance of making your parents proud, I’m sure they’re proud of you but let me say this. You might think I’ve accomplished something by taking first place all the time, but trust me I never reached my goal. If being first can make your parents proud then take the place y/n, because as much as I try, my parents will never appreciate me for it, so even if I’m first, we’re equal aren’t we? I’m first yet the person I try to satisfy has nothing to say about it, you’re second and no one appreciates you for it, right? Loss and loss. Being first and second won’t make a change for me y/n, so if you want appreciation from people, take my place. I might have people mentioning me for it but all I need is for my parents to say the things THEY did, so take everything.”

Gunwook wanted to be mad at you, he wanted to shout at you, but he couldn’t. All the rage that you’ve held against him, he’s held the same amount, yet he can’t make himself shout at you, even with the biggest desire, his voice just couldn’t come out.

“Sometimes I wished our parents weren’t friends, maybe that way we wouldn’t get to each other’s ways like this,” you said, holding back pools of tears

“I wished for the same thing, trust me I did”

Holding back tears had been the hardest thing to do the whole night, and at this point, you couldn’t hold it in any longer, so you rushed to your bedroom, leaving Gunwook standing alone.

☆ 7.15 AM

“Y/n, wake up, let’s get breakfast!” Winter shouted while knocking on your locked door “I’m awake, give me a minute” you shouted back “Woah, you’re awake early” she laughed.

Of course you were awake early, you didn’t even sleep, did you? You let your emotions take over you, and you feel good after letting them out but there are some regrets wandering around.

- Day 4

☆ 7.30 AM

After quickly cleaning up, you went out of your room wearing something simple like shorts and a T-shirt, as the eight of you were just going somewhere nearby for breakfast.

“Oh, y/n come sit here” Yunjin tapped on the space beside her on the couch, signing you to sit beside her, but you saw that Gunwook was sitting on the other side of the couch, and you didn’t feel like seeing him so you sat down on the kitchen counter “Why are you sitting so far away? Just sit here?” Sheon questioned, “Because, why not?..” you laughed awkwardly, Gunwook turned his head from his phone to your direction, but he didn't say anything, his face was straight, and the burden that you felt was probably the same for Gunwook. “C’mon, I’m hungry” Ricky spoke out while rolling the sleeves of his button up.

☆ 8.05 AM

After waiting for the food, your orders finally came, you sat beside Sheon while Gunwook was in the seat in front of you, was it a good sitting, no, but was it a better option than having to sit beside him? YES.

As your orders finally arrived, you reached your hands to take the bottle of sauce on the table, when your hands touched the bottle, you felt Gunwook’s hand on top of yours, also trying to take the sauce, “Oh, sorry, you take it” the both of you said at the same time “No, no it’s fine, Gunwook you take it” “Nah, I’ll take it after you” “Gunwook, just take it.” you laughed awkwardly “Won’t you wanna be first for once? You know, I can’t be the first one all the time, right?” “Oh? You know, maybe when you decide to take that sauce first your parents will be pro-” “OKAAAYYYY, I’m taking the sauce, thanks guys” Matthew cuts off your sentence before you can continue any further “What in the world is going on with the two of you” Ricky asked “Sorry” You quietly said to Gunwook.

☆ 10.15 AM

What is a better way to relax with your friends in Bali other than going to the beach? The sensation of having a filled stomach made you and your friends too lazy to do activities that exert too much energy, so the eight of you went to the beach behind your villa to relax.

As your friends were playing with the water, Gunwook accidentally splashed water onto your body, of course, it wasn’t a big deal, but because it was Gunwook who did it, you rolled your eyes as a reflex. Although you didn’t want to ruin the fun for other people, you decided to ignore him and continue with what you were doing.

“What is it with the two of you?” Sheon asked while looking your way “What do you mean?” “God, forget it” she sighed.

.

It reached the point where you and Gunwook could not stop getting passive-aggressive toward each other, almost starting a fight, or even having small fights here and there. Some examples of the other times you guys fought that day was when you went to a tourist attraction a couple of hours after going to the beach.

You were just walking around the streets of the area, and Gunwook suddenly pushed you with his shoulders by ‘accident’, “Can you not?” you said frustrated by his action “What? It was an accident?” he scoffed, continuing his walk like nothing even happened.

Or maybe when the eight of you had finally gone home to the villa after a long day, and as you guys were sitting down on the couch, you and Gunwook would bicker here and there, it was a small fight at first but then it got annoying to the others.

☆ 6.45 PM

“What is it with the two of you, stop,” Yunjin spoke out in the middle of your and Gunwook’s quarrel, her voice close to shouting “You two were just fine yesterday, what happened?” she sighed.

You and Gunwook stayed silent. It was a normal thing for you guys to fight, it was weirder for you guys to get along rather than fight every single day, but that’s the problem. The two of you got along, well, kind of, but before the fight you two had last night, everything was fine, you guys can last a day without having to fight each other, and even have conversations to keep up with each other’s life after a while, but the two of you were stubborn, you both realized that, but being the stubborn person you two are, none of you wanted to admit it.

“You know, you guys just need to stop being so stubborn?” Winter said softly, her eyes still focused on his phone “You guys continue doing your thing, I’m gonna get cleaned up” Gyuvin stood up from the couch, stretching his body before heading to his bedroom.

☆ 9.01 PM

You were sitting down on the patio swing in the backyard of your Villa, drowning yourself in thoughts as you stared at the view. Without noticing, a tear fell from your eye as you were thinking about everything that had been overwhelming you these past few days.

You quickly wiped off your tears when you heard the backyard door opening, showing Gunwook’s figure walking to the swing that you were on, “Can I sit beside you?” he asked coldly, you nodded your head, signing that it was okay for him to sit beside you. Gunwook placed himself on the other corner of the swing, both of your eyes were fixed on the view of the backyard with no one brave enough to make an eye contact.

“Can I be honest?” Gunwook requested “Yeah, go on” “Remember in 5th grade when we’d have sleepovers at your place or my place with our other friends? when we played games together, we’d always end up on the same team, winning every single round?” “Mhm” you slightly smiled “Or, maybe we were against each other in some games, but if one of us wins, we’d give each other a hug while saying good job?” he laughed “Of course I remember” “Y/n, we were always so proud of each other back then, so why can’t we do that now? I don't know how it is for you, but having that pressure inside of me all the time because of the constant competitiveness we have toward each other is slowly killing me.” He said calmly while playing with his fingers. Once again, you were holding back tears, “Gunwook..” You said speechless, “These past few years, all that we’ve been doing is just working so hard for a title, a title that can make our parents proud of us, that was our promise right? But we got too competitive. If no one will be proud of us, then let’s just be proud of each other Y/n.”

The last few words that Gunwook said in his sentence were able to let all of your tears lose, you’ve tried your hardest to hold back the tears but they couldn’t stay, even when you were already crying, the tears just couldn’t stop, could it?

“Stop crying, you look stupid” Gunwook chuckled and pushed you gently, trying to make you feel annoyed rather than sad “Shut up” You laughed while tears were still falling “All jokes aside, I’m sorry, yeah?” he pats your shoulders “I’m sorry wook” You sobbed.

Who would’ve known? Who would’ve known that you and your childhood friend would finally apologize to each other sincerely on a trip where you didn’t even want him to come on?

Guess the world has its ways.

.

- Day 5

☆ 8.00 AM

You got up from your bed to exit your bedroom, seeing Sheon, Yunjin, Gyuvin, Ricky, and Gunwook sitting down on the couch in the living room “The sloth is awake” Gunwook teased “Yeah, good morning to you too Gunwook” you said sarcastically before sitting down next to Gunwook on the couch “Ya’ll good now?” Yunjin asked confused “Yeah, what happened to the fighting? I was enjoying the drama” Gyuvin yawned.

You and Gunwook just laughed, not agreeing but not denying their words as you looked at each other. What Gunwook said last night was right, what’s the point of hating each other when you have the same goals? It’s only better to support each other.

“Oh my god, you’re not denying?” Sheon gasped “Why are you so shocked?” you laughed “I can sleep in peace” Ricky cheered, this was the moment that all your friends had waited for, something as simple as ‘stop being so stubborn to each other’ took you and Gunwook ages to do, It’s about time to try and do so.

“Gyuvin, wake the others up, let’s go out” Yunjin smiled “Me? Why me?” he groaned “Because you’re the most energetic right now?” “Whatever” he sighed, getting up from the couch before walking to the other’s room.

.

The rest of the day went great, you and your friends had fun, enjoying the sky, the activities, the air, and of course the view. What made it even better is that you get to experience all of this with your friends, and most importantly, someone you can now call your childhood friend and not your enemy.

☆ 7.15 PM

It was now dinner time and you sat beside Gunwook in the restaurant. Jazz music and dim lights give a certain vibe to the dinner table, camera lights flashing from the number of pictures taken of each other, you looked at Gunwook, confused about what to order “I seriously don’t know what to order, I’m not even hungry yet” you sighed “Well, you still have to order something? This looks good” he said while pointing to one of the dishes stated on the menu.

While waiting for the food to arrive, the long day that you’ve had that day has made you feel drowsy, you place your head onto your arms on the table, close your eyes, and fall asleep. When you wake up, you see that Gunwook’s jacket is wrapped around your body to prevent you from getting cold, you sit down properly, taking the jacket to give it back to Gunwook, “Thanks” you smile, leaning your head on his shoulders from still being tired.

You hesitated to do that at first, but when you finally placed your head on his shoulders, it gave you peace, nothing feels weird when it comes to physical touch with him because of the memories you’ve shared since childhood, but it seems like you’ve forgotten about that before you rested your head.

“No problem” Gunwook smiled, patting your shoulders in response. As you had your conversations with Gunwook with your head on his shoulders, Yunjin, who sat in front of you, secretly took a picture of the two of you, capturing a beautiful memory that will last a life time.

☆ 11.45 PM

Coming home to the villa from dinner with a happy stomach, you immediately got cleaned up and went to bed, preparing yourself for the upcoming days.

.

- Day 6

The trip with your friends is nearing an end, so the eight of you spend the remaining moments walking around Bali, shopping, going to the beach, eating some more traditional foods, and learning more about the culture.

Spending the whole day out with different activities was a lot of fun, but it drained all of your energy by the end of the day. When you all went home to the Villa, you guys spent more time talking and ordering food before heading to bed.

☆ 00.40 AM

You were lying down on your bed while scrolling through your phone before hearing a knock on the door. When you opened the door, you saw Gunwook standing with his hoodie, shorts, and glasses, “Need anything?” you ask “Yeah, I’m bored” he sighed “So? What should we do?” “I have some ideas” he smiled, pulling your hands gently to follow his lead.

The two of you ran to the car that you guys rented on day one, “Where are we going?” you asked confused “Anywhere, just get in the car” he laughed. As he starts the car, he sets up his phone to put some music on the Bluetooth, giving a fun vibe to the moment.

Gunwook drove around the empty streets with the car, blasting music with the windows down for the wind to enter.

Suddenly, Gunwook stopped the car on the beach, the lonely beach was illuminated by the moon’s grace. The two of you sat down on a bench inside the beach, it was silent, the only noise filling the space between the two of you was from the waves in the ocean, but that was what made it beautiful, the silence wasn’t awkward, it was far from awkward, the silence connected the two hearts and the two souls.

“Hey, Gunwook” You looked at him “Hm?” “I’ve had a lot of fun, thanks” You smiled, and Gunwook gave you a sweet look, his eyes filled with genuine Awe before he wrapped his arms around your shoulders “My pleasure, y/n” he laughed, ruffling your hair till it was messy.

You spent your time at the beach walking around while having deep talks, writing your names on the sand, and chasing each other around. The amount of fun you had that night was unexplainable, believe it or not, you were glad you spent the night with Gunwook at the beach while opening up to each other.

“It’s late, we should go back to the Villa” Gunwook declared while checking the time on his phone “You’re right, let’s go” you replied, walking back to the car with Gunwook to head back.

☆ 2.18 AM

“Thanks again, I had fun!” you tiptoed to give Gunwook a pat on the head in front of your room “No need to thank me, Good night, sleep well” he laughed, giving you a short hug before heading to his room, the hug was warm, it gave you all the comfort you’ve ever needed.

The hug was short, but it stayed in your mind the whole night, it’s just odd to think that you and your childhood friend have finally fixed your friendship after years, but you’ve grown to love it

.

-Day 7

☆ 10.00 AM

Packed and ready, you and your friends finally went to the airport to end the trip. All eight of you felt a little sad to leave Bali, but there will always be another time to come back.

“Here, let me help you with that,” Gunwook said while taking your bag “You don’t need to” “I know, but I want to” he smiled, carrying your bag and his bag.

There were a lot of ups and downs during the trip, but it was great to end it on good terms.

In the airplane, your seat was beside Gunwook’s, if it was the first day of the trip, you would’ve complained and asked one of your friends to switch seats, but it isn’t the first day, so it’s safe to say that you were quite happy with the sitting.

You’d often fall asleep and wake up with your head on his shoulders, and sometimes your arms would be intertwined with his.

Other parts of the flight would be filled with your silly conversations with Gunwook, and some more catch-ups during the few years.

.

{ Section 2: Trip’s aftermath! }

After the trip, you and Gunwook would often hang out at school during breaks, and even hang out after school, some people were confused because of the sudden change of behavior between the two of you, and some of them were even jealous of you.

Gunwook would often come over to your house during his free time when the two of you were bored and had nothing to do.

One week after the trip the eight of you had to Bali, school unfortunately started and you had to continue your routine of studying all the time. You and Gunwook were assigned as pairs for a project, so you decided to come to your house to finish it.

“Gunwook?!” Your sister Amaya shouted from the living room when she saw Gunwook standing by the door “May?” he smiled “I haven’t seen you in ages!!” Amaya laughs, running to Gunwook’s open arms “How old are you now?” Gunwook asked as he let go of the hug “I’m ten now” she smiled, showing a shocked expression on Gunwook’s face “Weren’t you like five when I last saw you?” “Well, it has been a couple of years” “Okay you two, Amaya you can talk to your long-lost brother after we finish this project, and Gunwook you can also talk to your long-lost sister after we finish this project, okay?” You chuckled, patting your sister’s head softly “Okay sis, bye-bye Gunwook!” she smiled.

Considering you and Gunwook have known each other since birth, Gunwook has also been familiar with your sister ever since she was born, when your parents were out together, Gunwook and you would often take care of Amaya back then, but it stopped ever since your rivalry started with him, and Amaya missed Gunwook for a while, he was like a brother to her.

The project was a pretty big one, and the deadline was still in a couple of weeks, so you and Gunwook decided to only research things for the project today and continue the main thing on the other meets. When Gunwook exited your room, he saw Amaya sitting down on the couch “Amaya, I’ll be heading home okay!!” he said “Okay!! Please visit more” she replied with a smile “I will!!”

When Gunwook and you reached the front door, Gunwook bid his goodbyes by hugging you before entering his car, closing the doors, and driving away.

☆ 2.35 AM

Ever since you were young, you’d often get nightmares here and there, some of them aren’t that scary, but some of them are capable of keeping you awake the whole night, and in this case, it kept you up all night.

Your parents are on a business trip and your sister is already asleep, you are shivering and scared beneath your sheets, unable to move a single muscle due to the fear you have. The only thing within reachable distance was your phone, you thought of someone who could accompany you, but nobody came to mind, but there was one person who lives near you, and who you also feel comfortable with, Park Gunwook.

You took your phone, dialing his number with a heavy breath and panicked state. It took some time for him to answer, his voice tired and low, signaling that he was long asleep before you called him, “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked when he heard your heavy breathing “Gunwook, I can’t sleep” You replied slowly as your words were cut off by your breathing “Oh is it your nightmares again? Calm down, you’re okay, give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be there” he spoke out, you could hear the rustling from his bed when he hurriedly stood up to put on his hoodie.

“I’m not gonna hang up, so just lay down and scroll through your phone, I won’t take long” he comforted you while starting his car, driving through the empty streets at midnight for you.

After a few minutes passed by, you heard the passcode from your door getting unlocked, and as you were about to panic, you heard Gunwook’s voice through the phone “It’s me, don’t panic, I’ll hang up now” he enunciates

Your bedroom door opened, revealing Gunwook with his Hoodie and his shorts, accompanied by his glasses and messy hair, he walked over to you, pulling you into a comforting hug “You’re okay y/n, you’re okay” he chuckled, placing soft rubs on your head with the hug “Stop laughing” you whined “I just find it funny how you’re still scared of your nightmares, I remember having to comfort you all night during our sleepover when we were kids” he conveyed “Sorry for bothering you, It’s late” You sighed “It’s fine, I understand” he smiled.

Gunwook ended up staying the night at your place because it was also too late for him to drive back and he was tired….and you were also still scared.

.

A few days passed and Gunwook came over to your house after school again for you guys to finish the project.

When the two of you were taking a break, you both laid down on the bed, bored and hungry, “I’m hungry” you sighed “Same, any food downstairs?” Gunwook asked, “Nah, you wanna order something?” “Yeah, sure” he smiled, sitting down on the bed to stretch his body.

When the food arrived, you and Gunwook ate your meals while watching the series that the two of you started together.

You worked on the project until it was late at night. When the clock struck 11.30 PM, you and Gunwook had finally finished half of the project, raining the room with happiness and relief, both of you cheered and gave each other a high five before Gunwook lifted you in a hug to spin you around, making you shout “Okay okay! Put me down” you laughed “I’ll get going now, sleep well, call me if you get more nightmares” he smiled, quickly patting your head before leaving your house.

You went back into your bedroom, lying down and smiling to yourself from all the butterflies in your stomach, “Stop why do I feel like this, am I going insane” you laughed awkwardly, obviously denying the truth.

.

“Hey Amaya, Gunwook is coming over again for our project, so don’t be too loud, okay?” You smiled “You know me, I’m never loud! And, is he your boyfriend yet?” she giggles “What kind of question is that?” “Oh, I know you’ve been giggling about him, sis!” “In your dreams? Go back to your bedroom.” you scoffed before hearing a knock on your front door, Amaya shrugged her shoulders and sprinted to her room, leaving you alone to open the door.

When you opened the door, you saw Gunwook standing with a bag of food “So we won't have to order food again, I got us some food on the way here” he smiled “Thanks, Gunwook” you laughed, ruffling his hair while you tiptoe.

.

Okay let's be clear, your feelings are there, it's obvious to you that you like him, but you’re in denial. Why? Because falling in love with your childhood friend who then turned into your enemy, then your best friend feels a little…odd? You keep on questioning yourself ‘What is he gonna think about me?’ What image would he have on you if he figures out that you are quite literally in love with him? Is the friendship gonna end again? Or will it be a good ending?

But during your daily overthinking session, Gunwook suddenly texted you

Gunwook: Hey, let’s go somewhere, I’m bored

You: Sure, what time?

Gunwook: I’ll pick you up by 6, get ready

You: Okayyyy

You didn’t even know where you were gonna go, but it was an automatic response for you to say yes when he asked you to go somewhere, you didn’t even hesitate.

You wore an outfit that matched the weather outside, the outfit fits you well, starting from how the colors blend into your shade well, to how nicely fitted the clothes are with your body shape.

After getting ready, you checked and saw that the clock had reached 6 PM. Right when you realize, you feel your phone buzzing, showing an incoming call from Gunwook.

“I’m downstairs” his voice was heard from the phone “Gimme a minute” you replied, spraying yourself with perfume before going downstairs to his car.

As you entered his car, he wore an outfit that matched yours perfectly, making the two of you look like an inseparable couple. “Hey, we’re matching” Gunwook laughed, ruffling your hair in adorance “I know right, what a coincidence” you replied, a bright smile plastered across your face.

Gunwook started to drive his car, and you arrived at a park filled with cute restaurants and cafes. The area was lively, it was surrounded by flowers and nature, giving you a fresh yet graceful atmosphere.

Turned out, Gunwook had already booked a seat in one of the restaurants for the two of you, he chose the semi-outdoor restaurant, the walls covering you were all glass and the interior had a lot of greens, there was even a fountain on the center of the restaurant.

Because the wall and the ceiling were glass, the moonlight from above shined through the glass, with all of the beautiful things surrounding you, like nature, the moonlight, the small candle in the center of the table, and most importantly, Park Gunwook, you felt safe and comfortable.

When your meals arrived, Gunwook fed you some of his dish, smiling at your puffed cheeks while you munched on the food he fed you.

Eating and having silly talks with him definitely filled up your stomach, but there’s always enough space for ice cream.

While the two of you walked by the park to the nearest ice cream shop, he pointed at the stars, while you stared at the beautiful sight of the star, he was also starting at a beautiful sight, you.

“Wait here, I’ll buy us the ice cream,” he declared, pointing at the bench near the ice cream shop, you nodded, not thinking much about it. While waiting for Gunwook to come back with the ice cream, you spent your time on your phone, scrolling through endless contents, before noticing that it had been sometime after Gunwook left.

You were just about to text him before you felt someone’s finger tap your shoulder. You saw Gunwook standing there with a smile, holding two cups of ice cream…a stuffed animal and…flowers?

“Sorry if that took a little long” he chuckled, giving you the cup of ice cream “Oh, and here’s one more thing” he smiled, handing the bouquet filled with roses, “The sudden bouquet? What’s going on?” you looked at him suspiciously, “I think you missed the note inside there, read it” he laughs “Hold on” you sighed, taking out the note before quietly reading it.

‘Okay y/n, I know you hate bullshits so let me just get to the point HAHA, after the trip we had to Bali, we fixed our friendship and we were able to catch up with each other, and when school started again, we were paired up for the project, and from all those days I’ve spent at your house, I would find myself constantly thinking about you when I’m at home, even somehow missing your annoying ass the second I drove away from your house. Yeah yeah cringe whatever, but I like you, and it’s not something that I can control, thank you for understanding me, thank you for keeping up with me, so, will you Take a chance with me?’

You gasped the second you finished the letter and realized that Gunwook felt the same way as you. You faced him, holding back a stupid amount of tears after being relieved that he wouldn't think you’re insane, and also because it got to you, the guy you grew up with, the guy who was always there for you, but also the guy who you hate, the guy who you can't spend a single day with ever since middle school, fell for you, and you fell for him? The long years you’ve spent together, thinking that you will have no feelings for each other at all.

You laughed, feeling tears coming out of your eyes “This is so dumb, why am I crying” you whined, standing up from the bench to walk into Gunwook’s opened arms “Yeah, why are you crying?” he laughed, brushing soft strokes on your hair while he hugs you.

After taking a moment to let go of your tears, you took a breath, stepping out of Gunwook’s hug, still sniffling after crying “Sorry, your shirt is kinda wet now” you giggled “It’s been through worse” he smiled “And, yes, I'll take a chance with you, Gunwook” you looked at him, his face filled with mixed expression, you can tell that he was shocked, but you can also tell that he was happy about it “Seriously?” “Yeah” “You’re not joking?” “I’m serious,” you said, Gunwook hurriedly hugged you once again, lifting you while spinning you around “Thank you” he whispered while he slowly put you down.

You and Gunwook continued your time at the park while intertwining your fingers together, the two of you look like an inseparable couple, and you most definitely are an inseparable couple from now.

Even when he was driving you home, he drove with one hand, the other one holding yours as his eyes were focused on the road. You felt comfortable, so comfortable, to the point where you fell asleep in the car with your hand in his.

The end of the day had come, and it's safe to say that it’s been such a rollercoaster that day, but overall, it ended with the best thing you can ever ask for, you can call him yours from now on.

The two of you stood in front of your door on your front porch, before you entered your house, you hesitated for a good fifteen seconds before giving him a quick peck on the lips, his face was frozen, let alone his face, his whole body was frozen, and you were about to enter your house before he pulled you in for another kiss, one hand is placed around your back, and the other supporting your chin, you can feel the slight curve forming from his lips, expressing his happiness to be yours.

When you’ve gotten cleaned up, you lie down on your bed, rolling around and throwing pillows across your room, clearly flustered from what just happened.

You hug the stuffed animals that he gave you, falling asleep with his scent that’s stuck on the item you’re hugging.

You’ve never had a better sleep than that night.

.

{ Section 3: So…we’re a thing now? }

You and Gunwook would try to keep your relationship from your friends, but it seems like they just naturally figured it out by themselves.

Gyuvin and Ricky caught Gunwook kissing your cheeks once, and the others just assumed that you guys were dating.

☆ 3.15 PM

The eight of you were studying at a cafe together, preparing for the upcoming exam. You sighed, scrolling through the pointers on your laptop, overwhelmed by all of the things you have to prepare for, “You okay?” Gunwook, who sat beside you, asked you when he noticed your expression “Mhm” you nod, placing your head on his shoulders, “Cool, yeah, cute, get a room” Gyuvin sighed, earning a laugh from the rest of you.

It’s been a week since you and Gunwook started dating, this is all so new for both of you, so you’re taking the time to adjust, although Gunwook has been treating you in the best way possible, and there weren’t any awkward moments between the two of you.

There’s this one time when a junior went up to Gunwook while the two of you were walking together in the school’s hallway, and started to try and have a conversation with him, even asking for his number. Gunwook was a nice person so he kept up with the conversation, but when she asked for his number, he just smiled, holding your hands to give a code to the junior, she noticed the way your fingers were intertwined together, embarrassed yet sad, she walked away in defeat.

You continued scrolling through the pointers, taking notes of the topics that you didn’t quite understand yet. Even when your other friends were taking a break from studying, they’d order food and talk with each other, but your eyes and mind were still focused on your books and notes, panicked about failing the exam.

Gunwook was taking a sip of his drink while resting his back on the chair, keeping himself away from studying for a few minutes before coming back. He noticed you being so focused and stressed that your fingers were massaging the temple of your forehead, signaling the pressure.

He slid his plate of cookies to your side, also offering you his drink while rubbing your shoulders “Don’t think too much about it, you’ll do fine” he sighed, knowing that you were always the stubborn type when it comes to your grades “What if I don’t do well? What if my scores decrease?” you said panicked “At least take a break, yeah?” he replied, evidently worried about you “I will after I take notes of this slide, I promise” you smiled. He knew that you wouldn’t, he knew that you’d just continue studying without taking any breaks, but he also knew that forcing you wouldn’t make any changes, so he just sighed, taking another sip of his drink.

A few hours passed by and all of your friends had gone back to studying again after a few rounds of breaks, with no surprises, you hadn’t had a break at all, and the time was already showing 9.30 PM.

When Gunwook was revising his books and taking notes, he saw your head resting on the table with your eyes closed, he chuckled, finding you cute as you took a nap, but he also felt bad, because you’ve worked so hard the whole day while panicking about the exam until you didn’t get any rest. With some hesitation, he shook your body gently to wake you up, “Hm?” you spoke out tiredly “I’ll take you home, you need to rest,” he said softly, tucking your hair behind your ears “I’ll study for a bit more, please?” “No, you’re coming home.” he insists, his voice going firm to show his seriousness about his words “Fine” you yawned, knowing that you were tired anyway.

While he drives you home, he takes off his jacket to give it to you, giving you warmth and comfort so you can fall asleep again, which is exactly what you did.

When he was gonna drop you off on your front porch, you stopped in your tracks when you got out of the car, “Can you stay?” you asked “Hm?” “Stay for the night, Amaya’s having a sleepover at her friend’s and my parents are on another business trip, I’m uh..scared,” you said shyly, Gunwook staying over was a normal thing, it was never odd, it’s just that he’s always stayed as your friend, and not your boyfriend, “The clothes you left are still here, so…” “I’ll stay” he smiled “But you have to promise that you’re sleeping right away.” “I am, I promise”

After the both of you had gotten cleaned up, you both lay down on the bed in your PJs, you wrapped your body into the warmth of your blanket and Gunwook’s arm, falling asleep with his arms around you while his fingers played with your hair.

☆ 7.50 AM

As you woke up from your slumber, you felt an arm around your body, holding you close. You turned back your body to see Gunwook asleep, his hair covering parts of his eyes and his duck-like lips slightly parted.

The small ray of sun shining through the small opened space in between the window illuminated his facial features, without noticing, you found yourself staring at his beautiful face for a few seconds.

You were about to stand up from the bed, but your movement woke Gunwook up from his sleep. You faced your body towards him, giving you a clear view of his face, he smiled at you, rubbing his eyes while sitting himself down on the bed.

“Morning” he laughed, still trying to gather himself up while taking his glasses from the bedside table, “Morning” you smiled, standing up from the bed “It’s the weekend, let’s do something with the others instead of studying” Gunwook brought up while stretching his body “I mean, sure, but where are we going?” you asked “We can go karaoke? We’ve been planning on doing it anyway” he mentioned, bringing up an idea that you and your group of friends had planned on doing “Sounds like a plan” you smiled.

.

When you arrived at the karaoke place, you entered the room that Yunjin had booked for the eight of you, seeing that everybody had already arrived, you and Gunwook laughed awkwardly, acknowledging the fact that the two of you arrived late, “Took you long enough” Ricky scoffed, taking a sip of his strawberry milkshake “In our defense, there was traffic” Gunwook shrugged his shoulders, sitting down on the couch with your hand in his.

Yunjin passed the mic to you, signaling you to go and choose a song to sing, and at the same time, Matthew passed his mic to Gunwook, signaling the same thing. You and Gunwook chose to sing Almost Is Never Enough, showcasing both of your talents through a duet. Your voice and Gunwook’s voice harmonized as your eyes connected while singing, losing yourself in the melody of the song.

When the song ended, you and Gunwook laughed, bowing at the crowd, or your friends, earning applause from the room, “I might cry” Sheon whined “What” Gyuvin laughed “YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE” she exclaimed, fake crying while adoring the relationship you have with Gunwook.

Singing with Gunwook brought you back to the days when your tiny bodies would sing together for fun in each other’s room, not caring about your surroundings as a child.

You and Gunwook sat back down on the couch, you placed your head onto your boyfriend’s shoulder, making him smile and wrap his arms around you in response, he kissed the top of your head before saying something, “Babe” he said “Hm?” you look at him.

“Thank you for taking a chance with me.”

[infamous-if]

.1

As won by the poll, the MC x Seven first kiss drabble is first! A few things: 1) this drabble is fucking long sorry and 2) though this is what I imagine their first kiss to be like, I don't want to go as far as saying it's completely canon, mostly because I'm sure it can go many different ways with different types of MC's. And 3rd) I tried really hard to make this fluffy and not so serious and I'm sure you can see the shift where I thought 'oh crap' but...I am not a fluff writer and I will be working on that lmao 4th) as always, I do not edit my drabbles and I really only do one draft of them so excuse the wordy/awkward sentences or typos or any of that sort and finally, sorry about that last line lmfao

“Have any of you seen Seven?”

That’s the question you’ve been asking all night since your band left The Golden Spoon, a bar in the crux of the city. It had one of your best audiences in recent memory; there were no lulls in engagement, no dull moments that made you question yourself. People loved the songs and danced their hearts out, some even asked for pictures once the set was over. Fame, however small, feels pretty fucking good. 

That holds the most truth in Seven. After the set was over, they were on a high, laughing and talking to anyone who offered them even a sliver of their time. That’s usually how it goes with a successful set--Seven becomes a magnet for all sorts of attention. Unreachable, untouchable. No wonder you barely had a chance to talk to them after leaving.

It didn’t bother you, considering you were all heading to the bar owner’s apartment for a small after-party. You just assumed you’d talk to Seven there, considering it’s an apartment. Eight-hundred square feet at most. Small enough that you could spot Seven’s familiar red bandana in any crowd. 

Or not. 

The group you just asked share equally confused looks and answer with varying shrugs. 

You huff, pushing through the slightly sparse but growing crowd. You maneuver through the kitchen and ask a haggle of women who claim they didn’t even see Seven arrive. The man standing alone in the hall? Saw Seven once and never again.

You’re growing frustrated.

With every answer, your impatient grows. Where the hell could Seven be? You came with them but were quickly swept away by the hordes of people throwing various questions and praise your way. Seven hasn’t responded to any of your texts either, which sprouts up a small seed of worry in you. 

“Hey, MC!” 

You look up to see Jazzy beckoning you over to the couch in the living room, where most people have congregated. In the center stands Rowan, gesticulating wildly as he tells a story from high school...one you’re sure you’ve heard many times before.

Jazzy waves you over again and you sigh. Half your mind still on Seven’s whereabouts, you stride through the living room and take a seat in the corner of the couch next to Iris, half your body pressed against the armrest.

“…and that’s when I had to sit down because I kid you not, I was about to fucking eat concrete…”

The group laughs as Rowan weaves a tale of failed skateboarding antics. The names of you and your friends come up a few times, and whenever Seven is mentioned you can’t help but jolt and look around in hopes that they slipped back inside at some point in the story. With every mention, your body deflates further and further.

Until your phone buzzes. 

You turn it around, only to catch Seven finally responding to your million texts asking where they are.

Seven: Roof

You quirk a brow at the message—the one word that says so much—and type something quickly in return.

You: Thought you died.

Another buzz.

Seven: Can’t get rid of me that easily.

You snort, though no one else is laughing. You lower your phone a bit to appear engaged but send back a quick text. 

You: Aw, really? I was hoping I’d finally be free of you.

Seven: Har-har. Are you coming or not? I’m feeling lonelyyyy

Your heart races and another laugh bubbles out of you when Seven sends a GIF of someone ungracefully falling on the floor. You didn’t realize how much of a relief it is to hear from them until now, seeing Seven’s text on your screen. Is your body that attuned to them? That, whenever they’re gone, you can feel their absence, so palpable it’s as if a part of you is missing? When they’re near, you feel more than complete. Drowning in so much joy that it’s almost overwhelming?

What do you call that?

You shake away the thoughts and send a reply: Coming. 

Brushing yourself off when you stand, you catch your friends looking at you. You shoot Rowan a small smile and walk out of the living room, where you quickly hear him go into another story about who-knows-what. At least the party seems interested.

Another buzz. 

Seven: Bring some bears please

You: Bears? 

Seven: Beers. Whatever. 

Shaking your head, you put your phone away and divert your path to the kitchen where you swipe two bottles of beer. You use the end of the counter to pop open the tops before making your way out of the apartment…only to soon realize you don’t actually don’t know where you’re going.

Dangling the beers between two fingers, you take out your phone. 

You: Where am I going?

Seven: Are you serious? It’s a roof. Just go up.

Seven: lol

You: I will kill you.

Seven: OMG you really are trying to get rid of me

You: Seven Lawless

Seven: Using my whole name? Just shivered. The roof entrance is down the hall to your left. Ignore the signs telling you…not to go to the roof. 

You move to the door and sure enough, there is a large sign warning of any trespassers. 

You: You mean the sign saying that ‘violators will be fined and/or arrested?’

Seven: Ignore it. It’s just a very strong suggestion

Seven: (trust me) 

Scoffing, you push it open with your shoulder and go up the single flight of stairs to the roof. Stepping outside grants you a cacophony of sounds; car horns, the sound of the wind rushing past your cheeks, music playing from Seven’s phone. 

“I’m starting to think you look at the floor plan of every place you enter just to find the roof,” you say by way of greeting as you approach them.

Seven looks behind their shoulder from their spot on the ledge, their previously blank face widening into a sly grin. 

Your heart races at the image of Seven smiling at you, though you quickly push it down. You don’t know what’s been happening but lately, everything Seven does pulls a reaction from you. A simple look makes your stomach squeeze. A brush of their hand sends goosebumps up your arms. A smile can throw your whole body out of whack. 

“I needed a break,” Seven replies, turning back around to face ahead. As you get closer, you see their legs dangling over the edge. It’s not too far below—the building is four stories—but it’s still enough to give you vertigo when you go to sit next to them. “Someone asked me to sign their divorce papers."

Your lip twitches as you hand them a bottle. “Did you?”

Seven looks over to you, gaze glittering beneath stray strands of dark hair that fall in front of their eyes. “Yes.” 

You laugh and Seven swats your following hand away in your attempt to shove them to the side. “Woah, woah!” Their brief panic from the possibility of falling is laced with humor and you let out a small, ‘sorry!’ that Seven waves off. 

"Signing divorce papers," you muse. "I wonder what we'll sign when we're global rockstars."

Their humor subsides, and their smile weakens as they toy with their bottle. You wait, silent, as Seven inhales through their nose and says, “Do you ever regret it?” They gesture vaguely around them. “Doing…all of this?”

You face ahead and think about it, stretching your legs out in front of you. “Not really. Do you?”

Seven takes a swig of their drink before setting it down next to them, lifting both shoulders in a quick shrug. “No. This is all I ever wanted to do.”

“Then why don’t you sound so convinced?”

Their eyes cut to yours and they snort a little. 

“Hey, you brought it up,” you prod.

They huff through their nose, eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. “Shut up.” Once again, their humor is brief, and you start to think that there must be something within Seven that’s torn, fighting to come out. It wouldn’t surprise you; Seven has always loved too much, hurt too much, felt too much. They call it a Fatal Flaw, how attached they get, but really, you find it endearing. It’s rare to find people like them in this world. You wish they knew that. “Ah, I don’t want to ruin the mood.”

You nudge them. “Say it.” 

They begin rocking back and forth in thought, nudging you back every time they move. “Sometimes…when I’m on stage…” They clear their throat. “Sometimes I feel so lonely.”

Oh.

You expected many things, but not that. 

Lonely? Seven is lonely? Granted, Seven hasn’t had the greatest home life, but you assumed that they found an abundance of people to surround themselves with. Hell, they looked like they were having the time of their life after the gig!

Seven’s frowning now, their eyes glazing over with an emotion you can’t read. “I see all those faces and I love it. The attention. The way they sing our songs. I feel fucking alive, you know?”

You nod, hanging on to every word. You understand them; the feeling of music and standing on that stage, singing emotions and states of being that can’t be explained in any other way but through song.

“But then I look back and…” They chew on their inner cheek, brows furrowing as they evidently search for the right words. “I wonder if they see me. Like really see me.” 

Your lips part. For a moment, you’re speechless. “Sev—“

“And I know it’s unfair to think that,” Seven breaks in quickly. “They’re fans. I shouldn’t put so much responsibility on them, but it just….fuck, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“No!” you say. Seven jolts and whips their head toward you, giving you a look of alarm. “I get what you’re saying.” You adjust to face them completely. “I feel it too, sometimes. You just want to be seen not as Seven Lawless but…” You clear your throat. “Seven Duckstein. You know?”

Seven holds your gaze. Their eyes sparkle under the fairy lights that are strung around the lattice detailing on the roof. As their eyes dart around your face, searching for something, you wonder if it was wrong to bring up their real name. It’s always been a sore topic for them, amongst other things. You just hope Sev understands what you’re trying to say. 

They crack a small smile and nod. “Yeah.”

You let out a small breath of relief, grateful Seven understands what you mean. You gaze around, looking down at the street below. Distantly, you can feel Seven’s eyes still on you. Your skin burns under their stare, but you do your best to keep looking at the tiny people running inside shops, chatting, and slipping into cars. Living entire lives that you will never know the depth of. 

You wonder if you have learned the true depth of Seven Duckstein. Even after all these years…they still seem like a mystery to you. 

And you sort of hate how exciting that feels. As if uncovering the hidden layers of your best friend is something to look forward to. 

“I’m not lonely with you, though.”

Your eyes flicker up to meet theirs. You laugh a little. “How could you be? I’m with you 24/7.”

Seven rolls their eyes and it’s their turn to shove you. “Can you be serious a sec? I’m trying to tell you I appreciate you.” They drag the syllables on the word ‘appreciate,’ trying to emphasize the severity of the moment. 

You raise your palms in mock surrender. “Keep going. I’m listening.”

They pause for a beat. “No. I’m nervous.”

“What!”

“Too much attention.”

“You’re a performer?!”

They raise a finger. “That’s different.” 

“Oh, please—“

Somehow you and Seven fall in a lighthearted round of bickering, swatting each other’s hands as you playfully fight. That fighting soon turns into tickling, and Seven’s usually even voice turns into high-pitched squeals that you wish you could record to use against them later.

You don’t know how it happened, but somehow Seven ends up on their back, sighing happily at the darkened sky that hovers over you both. You lean on your side, your body pressed against Seven’s, and rest your head on your hand.

“Come onnnn,” you prod, poking their rib. They squirm. “Tell me how much you appreciate me.” Your voice softens as Seven’s humor dies. “Tell me how you really feel.”

You meant for it to come out as a joke, but the delicacy in your voice betrays the true intention that’s hiding deep within you.

Seven’s eyes slowly, hesitantly, glide away from the stars pulsing in the sky to meet your eyes. With their hair framing their face, their small smile, and the glare of the fairy lights dancing on their face, they have never looked so vulnerable.

So…different. 

“I don’t think I should.”

That has you stiffening. A flare of panic rises in your stomach. What does Seven mean by that? Part of you knows but…no. You’re being ridiculous. 

They turn their head away, rolling their lips. It’s silent for a moment. You convince yourself Seven won’t speak until they say, “I’m afraid. Of you.”

“What?” you blurt, eyes wide. You hardly know how to act right now. This conversation has gone a direction you’re not sure of.

They turn back to face you. “You have too much power over me. It scares me.”

You open your mouth to speak. The only thing that comes out is a pathetic noise from your throat.

Seven snorts at your reaction, frowning at the sky. “You really don’t know the effect you have on others.”

“I doubt I have any impact on others," you mutter, feeling oddly self-conscious.

“Fine then. You don’t know the effect you have on me.” They huff, throwing their bandana aside to run a hand through their hair in frustration. “It’s kind of annoying.”

You sputter out a laugh, reaching out to poke them again. “Are you seriously insulting me—“ 

Seven grabs your hand mid-way, their skin warm against yours. You look down, staring at the polish on their nails as they curl their hand around your palm. “I’m not trying to insult you.” 

“Then what are you trying to do?” you mumble, your eyes still on your joined skin. 

“I’m trying to do as you asked.” Seven inhales a shuddering breath. “I’m telling you how I really feel.”

You jerk a nod. “Okay. Sorry.” Your voice is quiet. “Go.”

Silence.

Seven’s lip twitches as they look up at you. “Nervous again. Too much attention.”

“Fuck off,” you throw out, though there’s no strength behind your words. 

It’s Seven’s turn to apologize. “Sorry.” They swallow. “I just think I might mess up my words with you looking at me.” 

You debate something. Debate the logic behind whatever you’re going to say next. This moment feels too big to make decisions on feelings you don’t know are fleeting or not. This is Seven. Your best friend. Anything you do will permanently change the comfortable camaraderie you two have had since you were kids. 

But…you can’t stop from thinking it might be worth it anyway. 

“Then don’t use words.” 

Seven’s lips part, mostly from surprise. And then you see it; the shift in their expression-- from uncertain to determined. Their eyes darken and slowly, they release their grip on your hand to place it on the back of your neck, pulling you toward them. 

Your heart races in your chest. Are you two really doing this? After years of casual closeness; sleepovers, handshakes, private looks across crowded rooms. Has there been an underlying attraction you just never paid attention to? Or maybe you did, and both of you were too afraid to confront it. 

Seven is slow at firs, as if they aren't quite sure they should be doing this after all. But when you don’t pull away they grow the confidence to close the remaining inches of space between you.

Kissing Seven isn't like anything you imagined. And you can't lie; you've imagined it plenty of times.

What is happening...?

Lips warm against yours, you clutch the leather of their jacket as they pull you closer. The kiss is a messy and desperate dance of teeth and tongues but you don’t mind. Not when Seven tastes like gum and alcohol and is sending goosebumps down your arms as they absently run circles on the skin of your neck. 

Messy seems about right.

Seven smells of lavender and pine and mint and so many other smells you never noticed until now, when you’re so aware of them and their existence that your brain can’t make out any words except Seven Seven Seven.

Seven kisses you like it's their own salvation; as if kissing you now is the only thing anchoring them to this moment. As if pulling away means breaking whatever dream you two have found yourselves in. So they pull you even closer, deepening the kiss and sighing happily into your mouth.

You could kiss Seven Lawless all night. Shit, you could kiss Seven Lawless forever.

They tug on your lower lip with their teeth just lightly before closing their mouth to plant a more chaste kiss before pulling away. You swallow a frustrated groan, stifling the urge to pull them back into another kiss. 

Your eyes flutter open at the loss of warmth.

"That...that was a lot better than I thought," they breathe.

"You've thought about it?" you joke, careful not to speak too loudly in fear of ruining the moment.

Their answering nod is jerky. "Yeah. An embarrassing amount of times."

You both laugh. The humor quickly dies. Then...the worst part comes: the silence.

The horrible, awkward silence.

See, no one ever talks about what comes afterward. The reality of realizing what it is you've just done. The panic that follows the post-kiss clarity.

“Uh…”

“Er…”

They slowly drop their hand from your neck. 

And then they burst up, making you fall back on your ass. 

“You—“ They whirl around. “Did you just kiss me?”

“Me?!” you guffaw, standing on your feet as well. “You mean you kissed me!”

“Me?” They stand there, and then a manic, happy laugh escapes them. You watch as they put their hands on both of their cheeks, blowing out a long breath. “So I did, didn’t I?”

It’s your turn to laugh. You feel drunk. “Yeah. You did.”

“You kissed me back.” Their voice comes out almost accusatory.

“Yeah.” Your brows furrow. “…I did.”

Seven and you stand there. A rush of wind passes. Neither of you speak.

Until both of you do.

“That—“

“We—“

Seven physically clamps their mouth shut with their hand. Your brain is a static fuzz of nothingness. 

Songwriters at a loss for words. It’s almost funny. 

“Is…” You clear your throat. “Is that how you really feel?”

Seven meets your eyes and then quickly looks away. “Yeah.” A mumble. “For a while now.”

Your eyes widen. “I—“

“Don’t say anything!” Seven raises a hand, stopping you. 

You jolt, mostly because Seven just acted like they saw a bug or something. “What!”

“You know in the movies and TV shows where a person confesses to another person and that other person feels obligated to say something back even though they likely didn’t think it through as long as the other person?” Seven says in one breath.

You blink. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“—well, I always found that to be pathetic. Almost like a pity response.” They begin nervously smoothing their hands on their pants, exhaling a heavy sigh. “Just don’t…say anything, okay?”

“Seven.”

Seven, still a bit frantic, comes over to you and puts their hands on your shoulders. “Just forget this happened. I’ll get over it. I just…I may have drank a bit and I needed to get it out of my system and I don’t want this to ruin what we have.” 

You have whiplash. Maybe it was you who drank too much. You two were just kissing—kissing—and now Seven is telling you to forget it...?

“That kiss was in the heat of the moment and I mean, I did like it but it may be weird and we’ve been best friends for so long that I know you might find it odd. And hey,“--they let out a burst of shaky laughter--"maybe we can write a song out of thi--'

You pull their face forward, stifling the rest of their words in another pathetically desperate kiss that burns you all over.

It takes Seven a few seconds to catch up, but when they do, their hands go from your shoulders to your cheeks, cupping your face.

By the time you pull away, you're both slightly breathless. You say, “Just…shut up.”

Seven simply stares at you, parted lips glistening and eyes peering at you as if you’re a painting in the Louvre. Like you're something worth their awe and wonder. 

Maybe it’s now, just like when they were laying down, that Seven is seeing you differently too.

The sound of metal squeaks in the air with the door opening. You and Seven jolt, quickly shuffling away from each other just as Rowan, Iris, Devyn, and Jazzy appear. 

“We were looking for you gu—what’s going on?” Jazzy asks, her eyes darting between you two.

“Nothing.” Seven takes a wide step away from you, swiping a hand across their lips. You swear you see the shadow of a smile on their face. “We were just...talking.”

“You were missing the party, Sev Sev.” Jazzy comes over to Seven and throws her arm around their neck in some sort of move that can’t possibly be comfortable. “Where did you go?”

“Sorry, Jazz Jazz,” Seven jokes back, exasperated. They keep one eye on you as Jazzy pulls them away back inside. They steal one glance at you before they disappear down the stairs.

You stand there, ruminating over what just happened. Your lips still sting and the phantom touch of Seven’s mouth still makes the hair on your arms rise.

“You okay?” 

Rowan’s voice has you jolting back to the present. “What?”

“You and Seven.” Rowan gestures at you. “Are you guys alright?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” You wave a dismissive hand as you begin walking back inside. “Totally. We’re just peachy. What are we doing?”

“We’re heading home, actually,” Iris says, shooting you a curious look. “Party got boring.”

You snort, and you and your friends walk down the stairs to meet Seven and Jazzy in the hall. Seven looks your way and quickly averts their gaze, grazing the bottom of their teeth along their lip in evident thought.

You know, eventually, you and Seven will have to talk about…whatever that was that just happened. You’re not quite sure yet what it means. Though you do know one thing: tonight has changed something. Suddenly your friendship is something far more than precious: it’s fragile. And you can’t help but wonder what that kiss means for it.

“Should we get something to eat?” Iris asks the group as you saunter out of the building. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Rowan snorts, weaving Iris’s jab. 

“I’m okay with anything you want.” As Seven says this, they look over to you, and you know they’re not just talking about food.

“Yeah,” you decide. “Me too.”

“Burgers it is,” Iris says. Devyn hums in agreement.

Seven smiles at you, and you can feel the shift in them. When they gaze at you, something else lies there. Something else that makes your heart quicken.

Yeah, you may not know what comes next in your friendship, but you do know one thing: you and Seven will never part.

And that thought comforts you.

[cecilysobsessions]

ALL YOURS (m.) | levi

↬ word count: 11k

↬ slight enemies to friends to lovers except levi has always been in love but he’s in denial, fem!reader, ive decided that this takes place in a time in aot when nobody was dead and titans were the only problem lol, sassy reader, jealous levi, inexperienced levi, sub!levi, typos

↬ summary: ever since you were promoted to captain, all levi ackerman has ever done was shit on the way you run things. turns out he was only acting like that because he couldn’t handle his feelings for you.

↬ genre: fluff / smut

↬ warnings: swearing, begging, levi on his knees for you, oral, vaginal sex, desperate levi lmao

↬ a/n: i havent watched aot in so long so forgive me if i get some things wrong 😭 also im such a slut for sub characters im so sorry

m.list

To Levi, you were the most infuriating, idiotic, and impatient person to ever join the military. Every little thing you ever did he hated with his entire being: from the way you spoke to your squad, to the way you disciplined and trained them, even to the way you made your tea he hated. But, of course, he wasn’t being a hater for no reason.

You were a good fighter. Talented, agile, naturally gifted and athletic. You were capable of ridding a large area of titans within minutes, something not many scouts had a skill for. And although Levi had always silently admired that about you, that was the only thing that kept him from trying to get you kicked out. The two of you were opposite in personality: like opposite ends of earth, sun and moon, fire and water, the two of you had nothing in common and were never able to agree on anything.

“Everybody likes the new captain more than Levi,” he had overheard one of the other scouts whisper in the dining hall after you got promoted.

“Well, yeah. She’s so much nicer and a way better captain than Levi. She’s pretty, too.”

Pretty? Please, were those scouts blind? There was nothing pretty about you. Except for the fact that he seemed to be at a loss of words whenever his eyes looked into yours and the fact that whenever you pulled your hair out of your ponytail he got a whiff of your shampoo and took in a breath just to get a sniff of your shampoo and the fact that when you walked into a room you stole the attention of everybody there and the fact that you were so confident in your ability to run a squad and the fact that he did you find you pretty but he would never admit it and would rather feed himself to the titans than say so. But other than that, you spoke too much and too loud, you were taller than him, and you were annoying.

•••

“We’ve got a couple new scouts coming in,” Erwin spoke as he pulled out a sheet of paper from his desk, looking at the list of the new names of soldiers. He had called you and Levi into his office to discuss “important” things.

“I know you’ve just been promoted,” he looked up from the paper and into your eyes. “But these new recruits need some training and no one else is available to train them. Since you’re still a new captain yourself, I think it would be a good idea for Levi to help you and maybe teach you some things.”

Did he think you were incapable of training some new kids just because your promotion was recent? What kind of stupid logic was that? You were perfectly capable of training the new recruits all on your own and did not need that grumpy old short guy to help you.

“Sir, do not worry. I don’t require the assistance of captain Levi to train these new recruits. I think I know how to do that already,” you kept your hands behind your back and in clenched fists; your ego had taken a blow due to the fact that Erwin believed you needed help to do your job. Besides, you had a squad of your own and trained them yourself, so what made Erwin think you needed help?

“I think you do,” he replied flatly. “You’re a great captain and you’re good at training, but I think you’re too soft on your soldiers. Your soldiers need more discipline themselves…” he continued to list more stupid reasons as to why you needed Levi’s help, but you spaced out. Sneaking a peek at Levi standing beside you, you eyed his resting bitch face, absolutely no trace of human emotion on his face. Why was he being so quiet? Was he already informed of this before you? If so, why did he find out before you? Was he okay with doing it and that was why he wasn’t saying anything?

“They’ll be here this afternoon,” Levi turned to look at you, his voice stern and cold. “Their training will begin as soon as they arrive and if you’re late, you’ll be cleaning all the horses for tonight.”

“I’m never late,” you corrected.

“At yesterday’s meeting you showed up six minutes late. You are always late.” he told you bluntly.

“Well then, it’s settled. Try not to kill each other in the process of training the new recruits. We need to set an example and show them that the two of you are capable captains.” Erwin said proudly.

“Only one of us is a capable captain,” Levi says, rolling his eyes and turning to leave the room. Your eyes twitch in annoyance and your footsteps follow Levi’s out the office door. What the hell was he thinking? It would be such a waste of time to have both of you train the new recruits, so why would it be the two of you? And why did he say you’re always late? You’re never late! And if you weren’t a capable captain, why were you promoted? All Levi has ever done is shit on you and take any chance he can get to throw shade at you. 

“I’ll have you know I’m a very capable captain. In fact, probably more capable than you. That’s why everyone likes me more than you,” you start lecturing him, catching up to his footsteps quickly as you follow him.

“People only like you more because you are nicer. Niceness does not kill titans; skills and weapons do.” he refuses to look at you, choosing to stare straight ahead.

“I know that.”

“Do you? Because since you became captain and began training more recruits, we have had a higher number of deaths since your dumb promotion.” he finally looked at you, eyes filled with such hatred it was like he could murder you if he stared long enough.

“That’s not true!”

“Of course you think that,” he rolled his eyes, his flat and monotone voice gone; he was beginning to get pissed. “You would know our deaths have been higher than usual if you bothered to put in effort and actually read the mission reports.”

“I do read them,”

“No, you do not. Because if you did, you would realize that the way you discipline and train our soldiers is doing them more harm than good. And you would change your ways of training. But instead, you hang around drinking with the others and making jokes and pulling pranks instead of doing your job properly.” Levi lectured, his voice laced with annoyance and hatred. 

You always knew Levi thought you did a bad job as a captain, but you never thought he would actually say it to your face. He never said much to you, but when he did, it was just insults and lectures about everything you did wrong as a person.

“At least I leave time for fun! You’re all work and no play and this is why nobody likes you, Levi. Why do you think everyone calls you an old grumpy man?”

“Our soldiers are out here dying and you want to have fun? Are you that stupid, or do you just not have a brain? We don’t have time for your dumb little games, you idiot. Do you not care about the lives of our soldiers at all? Are you that much of a stupid brat that you are unable to comprehend that?”

You stare blankly at Levi. He was right. You didn’t realize it until now, but everything he said was right. While you never intended to poorly train anybody or get anybody killed, you realize that the way you did things probably caused the death of a lot of people because of you. Your heart sank and you were at a loss of words. You would never describe Levi as a nice person, but you didn’t think he was going to blow up in your face and insult everything you did. When all you do is stare at him in response, his eyes leave yours and he looks away awkwardly. After blowing up on you and practically yelling at you in the hallway, you grew silent and he was starting to feel awkward.

“See you tonight.” is all he says before he walks off, leaving you alone in the hallway.

•••

You were late. And not even by a few minutes, but by two hours. Two whole hours. After yelling at you in the hallways, you had gone to your room to take a nap and sleep off how you were feeling. Unfortunately, you overslept and nobody bothered to come and get you to wake you up.

Levi was going to kill you.

After sprinting your way to the training area like your life depended on it (because it did), you found Levi standing in front of the new recruits, his chin held high and proud as he spoke to them. When you walked up awkwardly to his side, he turned and rolled his eyes at you.

“Ah, the incapable captain I told you all about,” he begins, his eyebrows furrowing in annoyance because of your presence.

“At least I don’t need a step stool to grab some cups in the kitchen cabinets,” you automatically responded, straightening out your uniform. Your comment earned a couple laughs from the new recruits.

“Don’t forget you’re washing the horses tonight, captain.” his sharp eyes looked up at yours, a mischievous glimmer glowing in them. Ha! He thought you were actually going to listen to him and clean the horses? 

“You are not my captain anymore, Levi. We are now equals, so I no longer take orders from you.” you grinned sarcastically. Now that you were standing in front of him again, you began to feel re-pissed from earlier.

“I’ve been a captain longer than you.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“You might be a captain now, but remember you used to be in my squad.”

“Thankfully, I’m no longer part of it.”

Levi turns to you and eyes the pillow mark on your cheek, a smirk coming to play on his lips. When he noticed you weren’t on time, he had thought that maybe you were still mad at him earlier and decided you weren’t going to show up. While that might have pissed him off, he wouldn’t be surprised if that was what you were going to do.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” you retorted after noticing that he was looking at you for more than half a second. His stupid face was a waste of good looks.

“She is a perfect example of what you don’t want to do,” he turned back to the recruits. “Too lazy to show up on time and too lazy to fix themselves up before leaving the room.”

Your eyes twitch in annoyance and you lean down slightly to whisper to Levi. “When I wash the horses tonight, I’ll be sure to miss yours. I know how pissed you off you get when something or someone isn’t clean.”

He knew you weren’t joking. He knew that you knew exactly how to push his buttons. And if there’s one thing he knew about you, it was that you were petty and what you said wasn’t a threat, but a promise. But when you leaned down to whisper into his ear, your strands of hair that softly brushed against his cheek had him hesitating to say anything. He got a whiff of your shampoo and looked away. It smelled like peaches. Your whisper felt like a gentle tickle in his ear, your voice so low and sultry it annoyed him.

You were annoying.

“You don’t want to be on her squad. Trust me everyone, she’d probably get you killed.” Levi tells the recruits, his feet planted firmly where he was standing. He wasn’t moving away from you.

“Captain Levi here would probably overwork you all to death before that happens.” you send a sweet smile to the soldiers standing across from you and Levi.

“Right, well there’s a reason I’m humanity’s strongest soldier and not you.” the not-so-subtle brag had you rolling your eyes.

“There’s also a reason everyone calls you a grumpy old man behind your back,” you smile at everyone and Levi takes a deep breath in annoyance.

“Nobody calls me that.”

“Everybody calls you that.”

“That’s not true.”

“Of course you wouldn’t know. I just said that everyone says it behind your back. Were you not listening?”

“Every time you speak I choose not to listen.”

“Choose not to? Or can’t because your hearing is so bad now that you’re old?”

His mouth twitches. He is annoyed. “I might be older than you, but I’m still stronger than you.

“Oh, are you getting irritated, captain? I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were so sensitive to words. Must be a thing that happens when you get old…”

Before Levi is about to insult you back, the two of you hear a faint voice in the background. “Captain!” both of you turn around. It was Jean.

“Why are you interrupting us?” Levi glares, crossing his arms. “What do you want?”

“Hange told me to come get you guys. We’ve got food in the dining hall to celebrate the new scouts.”

“We’ve barely begun training. They can eat when they’re fin—”

“Dinner is serrrrved!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in the air in victory. “Let’s go eat, newbies! You’ll need all the energy you can get if you are gonna kill some titans!” as you holler and hype up the scouts, you walk off and direct them all to follow you, leaving Levi in the dust.

As he watches you walk off, Levi’s eyes can’t help but drift to the person walking beside you. Jean. 

•••

It’s like his eyes had a mind of their own. Almost like it was against his will, Levi’s eyes followed you around the dining hall. You were the life of the party: charismatic, friendly, and humorous. There was music and food and laughing and you were dancing for the scouts, a bright smile plastered on your pretty face. Normally he wouldn’t think much of it or even care to look, but a certain someone wouldn’t stop looking at you and touching you and being friendly with you.

Jean.

He knew the two of you were friendly, but he never thought it was anything more than that. But tonight, as he was watching you dance, Levi noticed that he wasn’t the only one watching you. Jean’s eyes followed you like you were the only person in the entire room. Jean admired you from his seat, hollering in excitement and hyping you up to the music. 

Not that Levi cared. Of course not. Why would he? He totally wasn’t just sitting on some chair in the corner of the dining hall too cranky or upset to talk to anybody because he didn’t like the way Jean was looking at you. Where was Mikasa? Didn't the kid have a crush on her? 

Levi scoffs to himself, taking a sip of his tea as he continues watching you. He sees you saunter over to Jean, grabbing his cup and taking a sip of it before smiling at him. Levi’s eyes can’t help but roll back. Why did you look so happy and smiley next to Jean? Why did it look like you were flirting with him? And why was Levi getting annoyed?

Why did he care anyway? He just found you annoying. Your presence, your personality, your entire being annoyed him. He stood up abruptly, setting his tea down and walking out to get some fresh air. 

“Enjoying the party?” It was you.

“Did you follow me out here?” He leaned on the wooden fence railing and looked up at the night sky.

“You stomped out like a cranky old man, so I thought I’d check up on you.” you teased, coming up and resting your arms on the railing as well.

“I was doing just fine until you came out here. Don’t you have your boyfriend to go back to?” he couldn’t help but bring up Jean. He was nosy and wanted to so badly know if there was anything going on between the two of you.

“Which one?” you tried to joke, but you forgot he didn’t have a sense of humor because he just stared at you. 

“Are you curious if I have a boyfriend or not?” you ask after a beat. 

“I don’t care.”

“Bullshit. You must be curious at least a little bit. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have asked.” you tease, leaning towards him and tilting your head and waiting for an answer.

Fuck, why did you have to look at him like that? Head slightly tilted, hair tousled from dancing around, a bright glimmer of hope beaming in your eyes, something he lost a long time ago. His eyes met yours, and he found himself staring at you. Observing, admiring, memorizing your features. He blamed the glistening stars and the shining light of the moonlight that made you look so beautiful. He had found other people beautiful before, but your beauty couldn’t even be compared to others. There was something about you that always hooked his attention, always had his eyes searching for you, and always had his heart beating faster. Although he found you annoying and couldn’t stand being near you, when you weren’t around he found himself searching for you. Thinking of you. Longing for you.

“Are you staring at me, captain?” you teased sarcastically, a smug smile on your pretty lips.

“You’re just so ugly it’s unbelievable someone as ugly as you even exists.” what the fuck just came out of his mouth? It was an automatic response, something he would say out of annoyance but not actually mean. Levi felt himself panic a little, his heartbeat speeding up in fear of how you would respond.

“Oh yeah?” you smiled once more and his eyes wandered down to your lips. He wondered what they would feel like against his own. “If I’m so ugly, why do you keep looking at me? Why don’t you look away?” 

You leaned in closer to him once more, your lips close to his if you even slightly moved forward you would be kissing. There was a moment of silence that sat between the two of you. You felt his breath on your lips, your gaze moving down to them. His heart began to race; why did it look like you were about to kiss him? Why were your eyes on his lips? And why were his eyes beginning to drift to yours?

“Levi,” your voice a whisper. His head tilted slightly to the side, like he was getting ready to lean and kiss you. The background noise of music and the scouts cheering inside faded away because all he could focus on was your lips. 

“Yes?” He sounded so sweet, so soft. It wasn’t like him at all; he had never been this nice to you. Usually when you tried to get his attention he always answered with nothing but a cold attitude. 

“What do you want?”

“If you’re going to say something stupid like you usually do, go bother someone else. Unlike you, I actually have work to do.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me right now. I’m not interested in whatever bullshit you have to say, you brat.”

“Do you—” you began.

“CAPTAIN!” the door behind you slammed open, a slightly drunk Jean stumbling out and holding his beer up. “We’re playing a drinking game, come join us!”

“I’m not interested. Fuck off.” Levi angrily replied. 

“Oh. I wasn’t talking to you,” Jean awkwardly said, eyes drifting from Levi to you.

“A drinking game? Sounds fun!” you excitedly smiled, straightening back up and pulling away from Levi. As you began to follow Jean back inside, you felt a firm grip on your arm. 

“She’s not interested either,” Levi spoke for you, his hand tugging you back to where you were standing next to him. “We’re discussing mission stuff.” he doesn’t know why he said that. A lie like that just rolled off his tongue so easily and so automatically. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t want you to go back inside, but stay out there with him.

Jean seemed to notice the hostile vibe from Levi, nodded, then walked back inside. Levi’s hand stayed wrapped around your arm, his grip strong and firm.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“If you go back in there and start drinking, you’re just gonna get drunk and I’m going to have to take you back to your room again.” he complained, but really it was just an excuse to get you to stay out there with him.

“That was one time!” 

“You fucking threw up on me! Twice!”

“Well, where was I supposed to vomit? My bed?!”

“Just don’t throw up at all!”

“How could you say that to a drunk person?!”

“Maybe don’t get drunk and I won’t say that!”

“Ugh, whatever. This is why nobody likes you, Levi.” you roll your eyes, shaking your hand from his grip. You get drunk one time and he decides to bring it up at every chance he gets.

“You think I care about what other people think?”

“I think you care what I think of you.”

“You’re thinking wrong. Maybe if you actually had a brain you wouldn’t say that. I don’t know what Erwin was thinking when he promoted someone as stupid and incompetent as you.”

“Whatever, short bitch.” you snorted.

“What did you say to me?”

“Oh sorry,” you sarcastically apologize, dramatically leaning down. “Lemme lean down to your level so you can hear me. I forgot you’re old, too.”

He scoffs, flicking your forehead aggressively with his middle finger. “OW! What the hell was that for?”

“For being such a brat.”

“What? Me wanting to go and have some fun is being a brat?”

“Yeah. If Jean hadn’t suggested something so stupid, you wouldn’t want to do something so stupid.”

“What does this have anything to do with Jean?” you questioned. Why was he suddenly bringing Jean up? “Wait,” you pointed an accusing finger at him. “Are you jealous?”

“What? Are you stupid? What kind of dumb question is that?” he scoffs again, leaning back on the railing and rolling his eyes. He tried to hide it, but the faint pink on his cheeks was obvious.

You gasped dramatically, covering your mouth. “You are, aren’t you?!” 

“No!”

“Would you look at that,” you tilted your head in amusement. “Captain Levi is jealous.”

“Not only are you stupid, but you’re crazy too.”

“Insult me all you want; I know you’re jealous.” you couldn’t help but grin to yourself. Excitement fluttered in your chest and you peeked at Levi, trying to see if he had any sort of reaction.

Although you looked at him and waited for some sort of reaction, Levi was still able to keep himself together. It felt as if his heart was about to explode and his hands were clammy from being nervous and he wanted to avoid all and any eye contact with you because if he even looked at you for one second his facade would break. 

You wouldn’t stop staring. Your soft, inviting, and beautiful eyes would not leave his face and the more you stared the harder it became to keep a straight face. He needed to change the subject.

“About the other day after leaving Erwin’s office,” he started. “I’m sorry for what I said. I should have been a little nicer about it.” 

Levi apologized? To you? If there was one thing you thought you would never hear from the old grumpy guy, it was an apology.

“Even though what I said is true, I could have worded it better so that you wouldn’t cry.” 

“I didn't cry!”

“I know you did. I walked by your room after that and heard you.”

“You listened in on me crying? You’re such a freak,” you poked fun at him. “I didn’t even know you were capable of apologizing. Or even feeling bad.”

“I know you’re a sensitive person.”

“I am not a sensitive person.”

“Yes you are.”

“No, I am no—”

“Would you just shut up and accept my apology?” he burst out, ruthless eyes glaring at you. 

Levi was an impatient man. “You don’t apologize to someone and demand for them to forgive you,” you lectured. “That’s not how it works, captain. Of course you wouldn’t know; this is probably the first time you’ve ever said sorry.”

He knew he shouldn’t have apologized because all you were going to do was critique it and annoy him again. “Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the fence. You knew he was about to leave. “Don’t get too drunk. I’m not going to take you back to your room if you do.”

“I’ll have Jean take me to my room then. Or maybe his.” you brought him up again, just to test the waters and make sure he was actually jealous and you weren’t just crazy. You didn’t actually intend on getting drunk or having Jean escort you back to your room, you just wanted a reaction.

“Do whatever you want.” he brushed you off, waving a hand in dismissal as he began walking away.

•••

Maybe it was the alcohol or the midnight sky or the glistening stars, but since that night you and Levi were able to have a somewhat decent conversation without wanting to throw the other across the room. And since that night, his insults haven’t been as harsh as usual and he didn’t jump at every chance to point out everything that was wrong with you. Surprisingly, he actually began to speak to you as if you were a human and had human emotions. It felt weird at first, and you thought that maybe he was only acting that way because you were forced to train the new scouts together, but even after their training finished, he was slightly nicer to you. If he kept it up, you might even consider him your friend. 

He might have begun being nicer to you, but that wasn’t the case for Jean. Jean was getting scolded more often and more harshly than usual, over the smallest things that didn’t even matter. It was so obvious that even the other scouts started noticing.

“Jean’s getting scolded again,” you overheard Armin inform his friends in the dining hall. Your eyes shifted to Levi and Jean a couple feet away. Jean was looking away in shame and Levi was staring up at him, mouth going off and blabbering about how his tea was lukewarm.

“Over what?” Eren asked.

“Captain Levi asked Jean to heat up his tea, but apparently it wasn’t hot enough.”

“HA! He probably deserved it!” Eren cracked up, grabbing his stomach in the process to soothe his laughter.

“But haven’t you noticed too,” Armin lowered his voice in an attempt to be more secretive. You heard your name and all of a sudden their conversation was interesting and now you were listening on purpose. “He’s been so nice to her lately…” 

You began to crane your neck towards the young scouts, nosy and desperate to hear what they were saying about you. Nonchalantly taking a sip of your drink, you felt a firm hand grip your shoulder. “Captain,” you looked up. 

It was Levi. You never thought much of it before, but now that Levi was referring to you as captain had your heart doing leaps in your chest. It was small and insignificant, but something about him putting respect on your name and calling you with your title made you feel appreciated.

“Come with me. Mission meeting.”

•••

You had forgotten that Erwin asked the two of you to team up and join squads together on an upcoming mission. Since Levi had toned down his attitude towards you, Erwin took it as a sign and assumed the two of you were growing closer. Unfortunately, the mission didn’t run as smoothly as you had hoped.

You sustained an injury, it was light and minor, but it still worried everyone. You had crashed into a tree, a couple tree branches scraping you and drawing blood. You had hastily ripped off a part of your shirt, clumsily wrapping it around the injury on your arm in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Now that you were back in the walls safely, you were trying to wrap your arm up again with bandages with one hand. You struggled, failing to wrap it around your bleeding arm, cursing under your breath and debating whether or not you should go out and ask for someone’s help. Luckily, someone walked into the room to help you. 

That someone was Levi.

He walked in silently, his light footsteps were the only sound in the room as he walked up to you. “Need help?”

“No, I don’t. I’m perfectly capable of doing it on my own.”

“Doesn’t look like it. You’re still bleeding.”

“I’m not blind, I can see that.” you remarked, once again struggling to wrap the bandage around your arm. You hissed in frustration and pain. Why wouldn’t the stupid bandage just wrap around you?

“You’re such an idiot,” he commented, stepping in front of where you were sitting. He stood between your legs, your legs touching his. He didn’t make a move to pull away, his slender fingers brushing against yours as he took the bandage from your hands and gently wrapping it around your wound. His hands were soft. Contrasting his personality and attitude, his hands handled you with a gentle touch.

“I told you to be careful before we left for the mission,” he said, securing the bandage around your arm. Your eyes drifted to his slender hands, veins slightly protruding as he applied pressure to the bandage. “And you didn’t listen.”

“You think I wanted to get hurt on purpose?” you retorted, rolling your eyes and wincing at the pain of your injury.

“Does it hurt?”

“Duh.”

“Weakling,” he finished wrapping you up, his eyes staring down into yours. “You need to be more careful next time.” his voice was almost a whisper, filled with a slight touch of concern.

“I know that already.” your eyes stayed on his. His sharp eyes focused on your face, his pupils darting around the details on your face. Was there something on your face? You felt a rush of insecurity and an embarrassing blush grew on your cheeks. “Is there something on my face? Why do you keep looking at me, huh? Got a crush on me or something?” 

You watched Levi inhale deeply, his breath lightly brushing against your cheek and you suddenly realized just how close he was standing in front of you. Even though he already finished wrapping you up, he was still standing close to you, his legs brushing against yours. You watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed nervously, his eyes going from watching your face to looking away.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he warned.

“Oh?” you suddenly smiled with confidence. You loved watching him when you irritated him; he got annoyed so easily it was amusing. And when he got irritated, the warning look he shot at you with his eyes sharpened and hard, made you want to push his buttons even more. 

“Is it really so ridiculous? Because you can’t seem to take your eyes off me, just like the other night. Am I really so ugly you’re unable to look away?” you remark, thinking about how he called you ugly the other night in a panic when you caught him staring at you.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’ve never seen anyone as unattractive as you are.” his eyes dropping down to your lips and lingering on them. 

You don’t know why, but in the moment you wondered how he would react if you kissed him. The looks he kept giving you made you weak in the knees and you couldn’t help but want to give into your desires. 

“Then why are you staring at my lips, captain?” you challenged, a teasing smile creeping up.

“Because you talk too much,” his eyes darted to  yours for just a beat before dropping back down to your lips. “You talk too much…” he repeated, but this time it was a whisper, his lips hovering over yours. “And you’re too loud…” he whispered, his voice laced with a strange sweetness you had never heard before.

“I talk too much and I’m too loud? Oh yeah, then what else do you hate about me?” 

“You’re too cocky,” he answers you, his arms coming down to rest on the chair you were sitting down on either side of you. You got a whiff of his scent and inhaled the smell of bar soap. “And when you’re hanging around the other scouts, you dance so horribly it hurts to look at.” his head tilts to the side almost as if he was ready to kiss you. All you had to do was move forward the tiniest bit and you’d get to taste his lips.

“You watch me when I dance?” you grin, tilting your head the other way and leaning in just a bit. When you leaned in, you noticed he didn’t make a move to lean away from you. You have never been this close to Levi, so now that you were, you felt a rush of excitement and wanted more of it. 

“Yeah, you’re so bad at it, it’s entertaining.” you saw a small grin appear on his face, something you almost never saw.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he quickly says before leaning down and lightly brushing his nose against yours, if he moved any closer his lips would be on yours. He exhales against your skin, his breathing uneven as he attempts to hold himself back. 

When he doesn’t make a move, you grow impatient and lean in to kiss him yourself. To your surprise, he doesn’t pull away, but instead surrenders to his desires and closes his eyes. He is still for a moment, and you wonder if it is because he regrets kissing you back or if it is because he’s nervous. You lean in to him a bit, trying to signal to him to start actually kissing you back. The faint taste of black tea covers your lips before a sudden realization, and your eyes shoot open.

“Was that your first kiss?” you ask, pulling away and smirking down at him, the new memory of levi moving his lips against your clumsily in an attempt to kiss you made you smile. 

His eyes widened in fear and embarrassment. “W-What? No!”

“Oh my, captain. I didn’t know you had this side to you. Wanna kiss again? I'll show you how to do it.” you wink, enjoying the slight blush that crept up on his cheeks as his eyes looked everywhere but yours.

“I’ve kissed people before!”

“Your mother doesn’t count.”

“I wasn’t talking about her!”

You grab his chin, tilting it downwards as you look up at him. “That’s cute. You’re cute. Kiss me again,” you lean in excitedly. After finding out how inexperienced he was, it made you want to kiss him even more. When you’re about to lean in and kiss him again, Levi panics and hastily puts his hands on his shoulder to stop you.

“I—what are you doing?!” 

“What? You don’t wanna kiss me anymore?”

“You… you brat. You made fun of me,” there is a slight pout on his lips.

Oh. He was hurt you had made fun of him. Well, you didn’t know he was that sensitive to it. “Sorry,” you tell him. You stand up, stepping away from him because now you’ve just made it awkward and feel the urge to leave. When you wait for his response and it’s silent, you decide to leave. 

Levi can’t believe what he just did. He let you kiss him?! What the hell was he thinking? Was he actually out of his mind? Of all the people there, why did it have to be you? All you ever did was annoy him with your stupid face and stupid and arrogant attitude.

But as he continues standing there after you had just walked out, he can’t help but want to go after you and apologize. He can’t help but want to tell you that he was just nervous and excited and that he didn’t know what to do and that he actually did want to kiss you. 

Your lips were warm and soft and even though it was a moment, your kiss made him feel safe. Your kiss had him melting, wanting more. More of the kiss and more of you. 

•••

It was freezing. Levi should have gone back to his room and tried to light a fire again and cover himself with his blankets and gone to sleep but his mind was too busy with thoughts.

Thoughts of you.

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he leaned on the fence outside his room’s porch, breathing in the crisp midnight breeze. In his head, vivid images of your lips on his invaded his mind. A pink blush crept on his cheeks as he recalled the exhilarating feeling of your lips on his. He hastily shook his head; he didn’t want to give into that feeling. He was falling for you and he was falling hard. He had to get his head straight. 

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to push away thoughts of you, he walked back into his room and tried to light a fire again. His stupid clumsy hands couldn’t light the stupid fire and was getting annoyed. His mind jumped to an outrageous idea: what if he just visited your room so he could just use the fireplace there instead of wasting his time trying to use his? Was he just using that as an excuse to go visit your room? Of course not. It would be such a waste of matches if he lit his own fire. And, of course, he wouldn’t want to waste his matches… 

Levi felt ridiculous. What the hell was he doing, standing in front of your door in the middle of the night and knocking? Was he that desperate to see you he had to come find you in the middle of the night? And what was that dumb excuse of using your fireplace for heat to come see you?

“Levi?” you raised an eyebrow in confusion when you opened the door. “What’re you doing here?”

His eyes immediately looked you up and down, admiring your figure as you stood there in your nightgown, waiting for him to answer you.

“Captain,” he spoke, at a loss of what to say. “Um, well it’s a little cold…”

“Yeah.”

“A-And I was trying to make a fire, but I couldn’t.”

“Okay.”

“So I thought maybe—maybe you had a fire going in your room.” he sounded awkward and rigid. God, why was he struggling to get words out that made sense? He was already mortified enough he came knocking at your door in the middle of the night, but he was even more mortified when he noticed the way you look. Your nightgown was thin, almost see through, and he could see the curve of your breasts through it, your nipples peeking out from the thin material.

“Well, as you can see,” you opened the door slightly wider and showed him your fireplace. “I do have a fire going.”

“That’s what I thought,” he paused, trying to decide how he wanted to ask if he could come in. No matter how much he thought about it in the mere second he hesitated, there was no good way to ask. No matter how he would word it, he’d sound desperate and obvious that he just wanted to come in and see you. 

“You already said that.”

He decided to just rip off the bandaid; he already looked pathetic showing up at your room, there was no point in pretending anymore. “Do you mind if I come in? For the… for the fire? It’s a little cold.” he sheepishly asked, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. Jeez, he felt like such a loser.

Until now, he didn’t see you show any sort of reaction or emotion to him knocking on your door, until now.

You tilted your head in amusement, a smirk growing on your face. “Oh? Are you sure that’s the only reason you want to come in, captain?” you teased, leaning down slightly to meet his eyes. 

Levi’s eyes couldn’t help but wander down to your cleavage, the cut of your dress was low and exposed you. “What other reason would I have?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you feigned innocence. But if someone saw us, they could assume you’re here for something else besides just wanting to warm up…” you told him mischievously, your eyes checking the hallway for anyone. His eyes bulged and his breath caught in his throat, unable to come up with a response. 

“I’m joking,” you break the silence, crossing your arms and smiling at his response. When Levi wasn’t lecturing you or yelling at you, he was cute. “Come in.” he walked in silently, choosing to sit on a chair as you sat on your bed. 

“So what brings you to my room at this hour?”

He didn’t want to outright say it was because he wanted to see you, but he wanted to see you. “I’m sorry,” he began. “About earlier. I panicked, so that’s why I pushed you away.”

“No worries, there’s no need to apologize. I wasn’t mad.”

That was it? Levi was overthinking and worried that he had upset you, but you brushed it off like it was no big deal.

“Oh. Okay.”

“Was that all you needed?”

“Um,” he’s trying to think of something else to say—something else to say, so that he won’t have to leave (really so that you won’t kick him out and he has an excuse to stay), but his mind has been blurry since he stepped foot into your room. He is nervous: hands clammy and shaky, breathing uneven and louder than usual, and eyes struggling to meet yours. 

“You look like you want to kiss me.”

“What?! No, I don’t!”

“Oh yeah? Then why do you keep looking at my lips?” you questioned.

He didn’t realize his eyes kept running back to your lips. He stands up abruptly, heading for the door in embarrassment. Levi reaches for the door, stepping forward to walk out. When he’s halfway out the door, he panics, quickly backing into your room, but he bumps into you.

“What’re you—” you had originally stood up to watch him leave and close the door when he backs into your space. You get a whiff of his hair, it smells subtle and clean. 

“Shit,” he slams the door and turns around. “I saw someone in the hallway.”

“And?” you look down into his eyes, panic rising in them.

“What would people think if they saw me walking out of your room in the middle of the night?” he nervously says, fidgeting with his hands in front of him, his back pressed against your bedroom door as he looks into your eyes.

“Well,” you start. “Why are you really here anyways? Is it actually because you’re cold? Or is it something more?” your tone sounds suggestive.

“You’ve misunderstood.” he speaks, his voice barely a whisper and his eyes lingering on your lips. 

“Did I?” you reply, your eyes dropping down to his lips. He licks them unconsciously, almost leaning in.

“Yes, I don’t like you that way.” a total lie. 

“You don’t like me?” you smile and lean closer to him. He stands there firmly, his nose brushing against yours as he finally looks up into your eyes.

“Not at all.” he doesn’t even bother to try and hide the fact he’s lying. 

“Then why do you keep staring at my lips? You look like you wanna kiss me.” you told him again.

“No,” he inhales sharply, his breathing uneven as he moves his mouth dangerously closer to yours. 

“So what? You hate me?”

“Yes,” he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. His lips are still against yours for a moment before he pulls away, cheeks red and eyes droopy. “I hate you.”

Maybe it was because your room was warm and cozy and inviting, or maybe because it was late at night and he was just desperate and lonely, but kissing you had Levi feeling shaky and nervous but excited. Your lips were warm and soft against his and he found himself wanting to press his body against yours in an attempt to be closer to you. 

He had tried so hard to suppress his desires to be with you, to be near you, to want you. But the walls he forcefully put up were crumbling so easily with a simple kiss from you. 

He leans in again, this time more aggressive and desperate. You smile into the kiss—he had no idea what he was doing. But the fact that he was so desperate and wanted more so badly he was willing to make a move himself had you feeling warm and fuzzy on the inside. You pull away, his lips searching for yours as you do.

“Gentle now, captain.” you whisper. It felt as if he was in a rush when there was no need for that.

Your hand gently came up to his cheek, softly touching his skin. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. It was like he was under a spell: he was so quiet and so desperate, it wasn’t like the usual Levi.

“Still hate me?” you joke.

His eyes open. This time, they’re no longer empty. His eyes are soft, focused on yours, hopeful of what is to come next.

“Yes.”

“I like you, too.” you lean in, kissing him slowly and gently. Your hands snake through his hair, tilting his head slightly to gain better access to his lips. His arms wrap around your neck, pulling you closer to him as he presses his body up against yours. His back is pressed up against the door, and you can feel his rapid heartbeat through his shirt causing you to smile into the kiss. He quickly becomes breathless, pulling away from you, his lips hovering over yours. 

As quickly as he pulls away, he pushes himself into you again, longing for more. You kiss him back, your tongue lightly licking at his mouth, asking for permission. He hesitantly opens his mouth into the kiss. Kissing him makes you feel as if you’re drunk. It’s so addicting and so satisfying it makes you want more. You lick inside his mouth, your fingers tightly gripping the roots of his hair. You pull away, your fingers grabbing his hair and tugging on it and forcing him to look into your eyes. He breathes heavily, his eyelids barely open and lips glistening wet.

“Kiss me more,” he breathes. 

“Why should I?” you tease.

“I want—no, need more of you.”

“If you want me that bad, beg for it.”

You wanted Levi to beg for it?! As if he wasn’t already embarrassed enough, you were going to make him beg for more? Did he look that desperate you thought you could make him beg for it and he’d pull through and actually do it? There was no way he was going to do that. Absolutely not. He’d rather—

“Please,” he automatically said. Even though his head was telling him not to, his heart wouldn’t listen. His hands run down your back and wrap around your waist. You can feel the warmth of his hands through your nightgown, his hands rubbing at your hips soothingly.

“Hmm?” you pretend you have no idea what he’s talking about. He leans into your side, his breath tickling your ear as he breathes in the scent of your hair. The hands on your hips pull you towards him, his hips pressing against yours, the pressure causing him to twitch in his pants.

“Come on,” he whispers as he tries to control his breathing. He felt unsteady, his breath uneven as he held himself back. “Don’t make me beg.”

He’s embarrassed. “Guess you don’t like me enough to beg,” you shrug, letting him go and crossing the room to sit on your bed.

Levi stays at your door for a moment, debating whether or not he wants to give into your desires. When his hand comes up to lock your bedroom door knob, you smirk. He makes his way over to where you’re sitting, politely kneeling down in front of you. He looks up at you through his strands of hair, his usual sharp eyes looking round and soft like a puppy.

“Please,” he says again. “Tell me what to do.” his hands come up to grab your shins, his fingers sneaking underneath your dress and caressing your skin gently. His slender hands make their way up to your knees and he tentatively lifts your nightgown to leave a loving kiss on your knee. 

He looks back up to see you staring down at him, a playful smirk painted on your face. You can’t help but smile at the fact that Levi was on his knees in front of you, so willing and eager to do whatever you wanted. He looked so submissive—his back slightly arched, shaky hands holding onto you, and voice whiny. You felt a throb in your core, taking a deep breath in an attempt to control yourself so you wouldn’t pounce on him right then and there.

“Come up here,” you whisper softly and he follows you immediately and crawls up the bed, his legs straddling your lap as he nervously sits on top of you. 

Your hands come up to squeeze his thighs, his muscles tensing as soon as you do. He wraps his hands around your neck, pulling you closer to him as your eyes move to his neck. You imagine he would look good with hickies. So you lean in, leaving a small kiss on his neck. After a few small kisses, you can’t help but nibble on his skin, biting the sensitive area and sucking on his soft skin. He reacts quickly, pulling you closer to himself and pushing your head into his neck. It is faint and quiet, but a small moan escapes his lips and his hand comes up to immediately cover his mouth.

You wanted to hear more. As your tongue traces his skin and as you start leaving marks on his neck, his head tilts back in pleasure, whimpers beginning to leave his pretty lips. He bites down on his bottom lip, gulping as he tries his hardest to stay quiet. But the more he whimpers, the harder you suck on his skin, and he can’t help but start rocking his hips involuntarily.

“Hnghh,” he whines, his hips rocking against your thighs, desperate for some friction. Your hands move from his thighs up to his ass, grabbing it and squeezing shamelessly as his hips rock faster. 

You pull away from him, cupping his ass one more as he whimpers in pleasure. Levi looks down at you, eyes dropping down to your lips as he leans in and licks at your mouth. This time the kiss is sloppy, rushed, and impatient. The more time that passes between the both of you, the more desperate you become. You bite down on his bottom lip, aggressively pulling him into you as you kiss him harder. 

“Haaa,” he pulls away breathlessly, his rocking hips slowing down. “I’ve run out of patience.”

“I noticed.”

“I want it so badly. I want you so badly. P-please,” he huffs.

“Have a little more patience, Levi.” you stroke his cheek tenderly. “We’ve got the whole night.”

He blushes, his hands coming up to reach for the first button on his shirt. “It’s a little hot in here,” his hands tremble, failing to undo his button. 

You smirk, watching him nervously try to undress. “Trying to give me a show?”

“Stop-stop teasing me,” he pouts, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his chest. “Undress me.” he demands.

“Whatever you say, captain.” your skillful fingers work at his shirt buttons, easily undoing them and pulling his shirt off for him. He’s slender but muscular, and when your eyes admire his figure, you spot his hardened erection through his pants. He doesn’t bother to cover it up out of embarrassment, instead, choosing to grab your hand and guide it to where he really wants it. 

You start gently rubbing him through the cloth, his hips slowly, rocking against the friction of your hands. You were surprised he seemed so open about what he wanted—you had thought he was going to be shyer. You stroked his hard dick through the thin material of his pants, his head leaning into the crook of your neck. He breathes in and out slowly, trying to keep his composure but it slowly begins to fade the more aroused he grows because of you.

He whimpers, his hips slowing down to a stop. “I’m ready for more,” he whispers against your ear and climbs off of you, grabbing you on top of him as he lies on the mattress. 

“Hmm,” you begin, your fingers slowly undoing his pants. “How many people have you been with, Levi?” you asked innocently, your hands tugging at his pants. He lifts his hips up, allowing you to slip off his pants and underwear. His hardened cock lies against his flat stomach, glistening with his pre-cum.  

“Not many,” he answers. “I don’t have a lot of experience.” he continues shyly and looks away in embarrassment. 

“Cute,” you grab him, your hand stroking him from his shaft to his tip. You lean over him, sticking out your tongue and letting saliva drip onto his tip, making sure to maintain eye contact with him. His eyes widen, surprised at what you’re doing but pleasured. Your saliva coats him, allowing you to more easily stroke him, your thumb circling over his tip. His hips automatically thrust upwards into your hand, his own hands gripping the bed sheets. You feel him twitch in your hands, smirking to yourself as you bring your mouth down to him once more. 

Levi’s mind is hazy and his judgment is clouded. It’s like he’s under a spell from you, he desires so much from you and is so willing to do absolutely anything for you to fulfill those desires. His head tilts downwards to watch you, your eyes hungry and determined. He can’t help but whimper even though you haven’t gone down on him completely, he is just desperate for anything at this point. He watches you smack his cock on the tip of your tongue playfully, your hand expertly stroking his shaft. He moans, making sure to cover his mouth so that nobody else hears but you. 

His eyes are still trained on yours though, watery as tears begin to fill his eyes. He feels your mouth take in all of his length, sucking him in as your hands massage his thighs. He feels you forcefully spread his legs wider, and his cheeks heat up. If it weren’t for the low lighting in the room, he would collapse from embarrassment. It was something about him splayed out on your bed, legs spread open by your hands that had him feeling a little too exposed and humiliated. Strangely, he liked it. He enjoyed being underneath you, allowing you to do whatever you desired with his body.

There was something about Levi in tears, whining and whimpering for more underneath you that had you shaking in excitement. His whimpers were like music to your ears and all you wanted in the moment was to hear more of it. He wasn’t afraid to hold back how good he was feeling and it made you want to please him even more. You took him in your mouth once more, your tongue swirling over his sensitive tip. His hips can’t help but thrust again, and you hold him down, pushing down on his thighs with your hands. You come back up, your mouth leaving a string of saliva as you pull away from him. He already looks out of breath, his forehead slightly glistening with sweat as he struggles to catch his breath.

“You look like you need some relief,” you tease, crawling up to straddle him. You begin lifting your dress to take it off, and his eyes immediately drift to your breasts. He watches you undress in silence, choosing to quietly admire you from a distance. 

He chuckles quietly, his hands grabbing at your thighs. He rubs up and down at your skin, his eyes focused on yours. “You look like you want to sit on my face,” he replies.

“I think you’re the one who wants me to,” you smirk, moving to hover over his face. You catch a glimpse of excitement and arousal in his eyes.

“I do,” he confesses. “I want to taste you so bad,” he continues, biting down on his bottom lip. “Please—please let me.”

“Well, since you seem so desperate.” you smile, grabbing the headboard in front of you as he grabs you, forcefully sitting you on top of his face. 

His tongue immediately comes up to lick you, and he moans. His hands snake back to grab your ass, pushing you further onto his mouth as he struggles to find your clit. You chuckle, angling your hips and thrusting in his face so that your clit gets the stimulation you need. You begin to ride his face, your hips aggressively thrusting as he moans into you. You wonder if he’s struggling to breathe, so you pull away a bit, but he pulls you back into him, his hands squeezing your ass cheeks as he laps at your pussy, whimpering in pleasure. You pull away, his face shining with your wetness and cheeks rosy. 

“Not bad,” you tell him, grabbing his chin with your hands. “Now it’s time to open up, captain.” your fingers ghost over his lips and he automatically opens them, taking in your two fingers. His tongue is warm and wet and swirls around your fingers as his eyes close in pleasure. He moans against your fingers as you shove them deeper into his mouth, making sure to coat them in his saliva. When you pull them out, you bring your fingers to your wetness, rubbing at your entrance.

“Fuck,” he whispers, his hand coming up to stroke his dick as he watches you tease yourself. He moans again, watching as you rub your clit, your fingers teasing yourself once more as you insert a finger into yourself. You moan, thrusting into your own fingers and Levi strokes himself faster, captivated by you. 

“Please,” he starts, tapping your thigh with his hand politely. Cute. “Fuck me, please. I need you so bad. Please, please fuck me.” he desperately asks, his eyes tearing up once again. 

“Oh? How badly do you want it?” you hover over him, rubbing your clit on his dick, your hips slowly grinding against him. 

“Ahh,” he moans and grabs your hips and presses you onto his cock. “Please… please ride me. I want you to fuck me so badly, please.” a tear slides down his cheek, more tears swelling in his beautiful eyes.

You feel yourself throb as you hover over him, patience thin. You push yourself into him, taking in his cock and throwing your head back in pleasure. You tighten around him and feel him throb inside of you. You bite down on your lip to contain your moans, making sure to keep quiet. Levi, however, was the total opposite. He was so aroused and so desperate and so turned out it was like he had completely forgotten that the walls were thin and it was late at night and people were trying to sleep. He was moaning loudly, tears escaping his eyes as he cried out to you in pleasure. He was thrusting upwards into you, frantic for some friction. His hands were gripping his bedsheets once again as he fucked himself into you, whimpers escaping his pretty lips. 

“Fuck,” you mumbled as you bounced on top of him, taking in his dick. “People are going to hear you if you don’t quiet down.” you warned, leaning down to get closer to his face. 

“Hnngh, I’m sorry,” he whispers, tilting his chin up for a kiss. You give in, sloppily kissing him as he opens his mouth to let you in, moaning into your mouth as his hips begin thrusting faster. You pull away from him, breathless as your hand sneaks down to rub your clit. He pulls you into him, holding you close as his hand strokes your hair lovingly. You feel him breathe against your ear, whimpering in pleasure as you continue to ride him. You feel yourself growing closer, so you begin to ride him faster as his moans grow louder in volume.

“H-Harder,” he breathes. “Please fuck me harder.” he pleads and you oblige, your hips speeding up along with his thrusts. He’s more vocal now, whining your name and moaning as if there isn’t somebody sleeping right next door. 

“Haaa,” he sighs, face flushed and hips struggling to keep up. He throws his head back against the pillows, panting in pleasure and hands coming up to grab your thighs, fucking himself harder into you. You feel the familiar knot in your stomach, your pussy squeezing down on him as you rub yourself, hips stuttering as a wave of pleasure takes over and you cum, toes curling and holding onto his hands that grab at yours. When he feels you cum on him, he whimpers and bucks into you, unable to hold himself back any longer. You pull yourself off of him and he moans, his cum spurting out and landing on his stomach. His face is flushed and he’s out of breath; he looked beautiful.

His eyes bore into yours, and it is silent in the room except for the sound of both of you catching your breath. As you come down from your high, you climb off of him, your legs trembling. Levi immediately sits up, grabbing your shoulder gently to sit you back down. 

“I’ll help clean up,” he assures you, leaving a kiss on your cheek.

After the two of you clean up in silence, he wonders if you are going to let him stay there, or kick him out. Now that the two of you have given in to your desires to have sex, what now? Should he confess his feelings to you now that he’s realized them, or wait for you to say something? What if you just thought tonight was nothing more than a no strings attached sex? His heart sank at the idea. He didn’t want that at all. He wanted to be with you. He wanted to be yours. Watching you finish changing your bed sheets, he awkwardly crosses the room to stand next to you.

“Um,” he starts, and you stop what you’re doing to look at him. “Do you need help? With—with your sheets..?”

“No, as you can see, I’m done.” you gesture to your made bed.

“O-Oh,” he pauses, nervous and unsure of what to say. 

You look at him, watching him rub the back of his neck out of anxiety and awkwardness. “Levi,” you start.

“Captain,” he automatically responds. 

“Do you like me?”

His eyes widen and he appears to be taken back. “Uh, I—Yes. I… I thought it was obvious.”

“You never actually said it. I was the only one to confess.” you point out.

“Oh.” here it was. Here was the moment he had to pour out his feelings and confess his love for you. The only thing was, he was so horrible with words. 

“Um,” he starts. How many times has he said that already? Jeez, he felt so stupid and nervous and embarrassed. “At first—I thought I hated you. I thought you were a horrible captain and bad at your job and annoying and a terrible dancer and I also thought you talked way too much and sometimes it would give me a headache and you’re also really cocky, but—” he stopped himself. Why was he insulting you? He was supposed to confess his feelings and all he did was start insulting you? What the hell was wrong with him? 

“S-Sorry. I’m sorry. What I’m trying to say is—I… I like you. A lot. And… and, if you—I would like to be yours. All yours.” he pouted, disappointed in his confession of love. 

You smile, pulling him into a sweet kiss. “Well, you could’ve just said so, captain.”

•••

“Did you hear?” you overheard Armin whisper quite loudly to his friends as you sit a couple tables away from them in the dining hall with Levi. He was drinking tea as you munched on a sandwich. 

“He confessed his feelings to her! Captain Levi?! Can you believe that? I always thought he hated her!” he said excitedly, hitting Eren’s arm.

“Please, she’s out of his league.” Jean pointed out sourly, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

You thought you were the only one listening in on them, but when you look over to Levi, he’s smirking in victory after hearing what Jean said.

“How do you know that?” Mikasa asks Armin.

“Hange said she saw Levi walking into her room a couple nights ago around midnight,” he begins. “And she said they were loud! Especially captain Levi!”

You eye Levi, and as soon as he hears what Armin says, he spits out his tea, coughing as his eyes widen in embarrassment. You laugh, rubbing his back to soothe him. 

“I warned you that someone would hear.” you tease.

“That shithead Hange—” he coughs again, his face turning red. “Shut up, you brat.”

•••

a/n: thank you sm for reading! i didn’t mean for it to be this long lmao

m.list

[sweeterthansammy]

ONLY YOU - JON SNOW

Summary: After being accused of wanting another woman instead of you, he makes it his mission to let you know that he wants you…and only you.

Warnings: This is all over the place but it makes sense in my head :D. Completely made up the last name for the sake of the fic. Now for real warnings - One (1) quickie, unprotected sex (be smart y’all), vaginal penetration, fingering, oral (female receiving), face-sitting., love-making ig, overstimulation, basically porn, very light touch of breeding, one (1) use of the word ‘whore’, marriage (yes that is a fucking warning but it’s not that complicated in this fic), feelings (ew), mild language, cheating accusations, mentions of not being able to conceive, one (1) very brief mention of Jon crying (yes this is also a warning)

A/N: Hello my darlings! My laptop is still being repaired so please bear with my shitty typing as well as possible typos. I just recently started watching GOT and I HAD to jump on the opportunity the second I laid my eyes on Jon…… considering that I’m only a few episodes in, I did not follow anything too canon considering that I don’t want the details to be too off.

Word count: 4.2k+ (this is the most I’ve written in forever LMAO)

not my gif!

Daenerys Targaryen. The most wanted woman of all in any of the kingdoms. She was undoubtedly envied by many, you included. You were a very close runner-up, but it didn’t help much considering your family’s constant comparisons between you and the younger girl.

You were nearing twenty-one and you had yet to be set for marriage, your parents frowning upon the idea that you wanted different things in life. Sure it might be nice to carry on your family’s legacy and become the heir, being their oldest of seven girls, but it wouldn’t be all that nice when you’d get threatened by others to give up your title as queen.

You’d met Jon when your parents had gone over to the Stark residence for a ceremonial dinner. He’d been out front, swording away at a dummy. You removed the flask from the garter that sat under your dress, sipping the bitter whiskey. You’d leaned yourself up against the wall, eyeing the dark-haired alpha as he blabbered away to his uncle Benjen.

He stole several glances, his tongue prodding at the inside of his cheek when he realized your gown parted more and more to allow some air under the fabric.

“I shall go with you when you leave, Uncle Benjen. My father will say yes - ask him!”

Trying your best to not eavesdrop much more, you began to wander off. His uncle couldn’t stop the perverse words that fell from his tongue. You glanced over your shoulder, shooting the older male a wink, careful as to not show too much of your face as he’d only seen your silhouette. He took off, heading into the castle to rejoice with his brother and several lords, leaving you in the presence of the young man.

“Tisn’t quite the scene for a lady. You should be inside with everyone else.”

“Nor is it the scene for the son of a lor-“

“Lady Stark requested that I didn’t join them for the dinner.”

“Oh, right. Jon Snow, is it? The bastard?”

You finally turned to face him, his eyes widening in their sockets.

“Honorable Y/N Burke. You shan’t be in the presence of an unwed man, young lady.”

“There are many things that I ‘shan’t’ do,” you mimicked air quotes. “But, you’ll find very soon, bastard, that I don’t care much about the things that I shan’t do.”

He eyed you for a moment longer, his sword firm at his side. You had yet to conceal your flask, offering him a sip before taking one of your own.

You watched as his eyes glanced over the way your lips encircled the opening, a drop of the liquid dribbling down the side of your mouth before your finger swiped at it, sucking the digit into your mouth.

Then he lost it.

He pounced on you in just a matter of seconds, groaning as your tongue mingled with his. The exchange of tastes - the whiskey warm with a mix of whatever sweetness you’d treated yourself to beforehand, and his bare whiskey. You could almost taste his musk but it must’ve only been the way his scent overstimulated each of your senses.

His hands, which had made themselves up to your face, dropped to your waist, pulling your lower halves together as he felt up on your body.

“Goodness- we can’t get caught, Snow.”

Your breath picked up into heavy pants, his fingers dipping into your undergarments as he swallowed all of your moans.

“Just be quiet, darling, and they won’t know a thing.”

He teased your clit with a grin plastered to his face. He yanked your underpants down, mimicking the move with his own clothing.

“Jon-“

“Sh, sweetheart-“

He hoisted you into his arms, not hesitating to plow himself into you. You bit down on your lower lip, trying to fight each moan from leaving your mouth. A high-pitched squeal sounded from your throat as his hand accompanied his rather vulgar pace.

“Fuck-“

“Remember what I told you, sweetheart,” he grunted into your ear.

His arm circled itself around your waist, stabilizing your squirming figure. His head tipped back, a groan sounding from his throat before his forehead met yours.

“Jon, fu-“

Before you could finish your statement, you felt the pulsating of his cock, his seed dribbling down your legs. He fucked you through his high, dropping his thumb to your cunt so you’d finally come around his cock. Your body shuddered as your climax hit you, your hands clutching onto him for dear life.

He pulled his garments back up once he’d placed you on the makeshift railing. You remained silent for just a bit longer until you broke said silence.

“Look, Jon- Lord…Snow, I’ve heard of your desire to leave this land and become a Night Watcher. I just….”

For once you had not much to say despite wanting to spew so much out.

“I know of your oath and the things you must accede to.”

“What are you getting at, Hon Burke?”

“If…if I am to carry your child, and I know the chances are slim because it’s only been once-“

“As you said, it’s only been one time. Don’t speak nonsense. This never happened. Are we clear?”

“But-“

He turned to you, helping you redress yourself with a sigh. He couldn’t miss the way your demeanor faltered just a tad, his own softening drastically.

“It’d be in both of our best interests to pretend that this never happened, sweetheart.”

And so you did as he said.

Despite wanting oh so badly to miss your menstrual cycle that month, it’d worked out for the best - you’d told yourself. You’d only known the lad for a few minutes tops but he remained on your mind for years following.

Upon his leave, you were devastated. Watching with teary eyes as the man you knew you wanted so much more with was leaving. Your mother watched as you quickly wiped a tear from under your eye, sniffling quietly.

Two years down the line, it was nearly impossible to avoid the fact that you’d have to step up and become queen rather soon.

“Mother, I am not stepping into that role until I get a proper proposal!”

“You’re too picky, Y/N! We’ve been waiting - for years, we’ve been waiting. You’ve gotten thirty proposals, all of which you’d turned down for the darndest reasons!”

“I’m not picky! I am awaiting someone that will settle for more than what the stupidity of this society offers. My king-“

“Has arrived.”

That voice. His voice.

Immediate tears were brought to your eyes as you found Jon standing in your doorway.

“J- Sir Jon Snow. Am I dreaming?”

“No, m’lady. ‘Tis truly I.”

You resisted every fiber in your body that urged you to jump into his arms and snog him right in front of your mother.

“Lady Burke,” he bowed.

Your mother offered a tight-lipped smile before leaving the pair of you to catch up.

“I didn’t think I’d see you for another ten years.”

Your smaller arms pulled his body into yours, embracing his warmth despite his cool armor.

“Jon,” you hummed, nuzzling yourself further into him.

“Y/N,” he copied your actions, smoothing his hand over your hair. “I couldn’t do without you for much longer.”

“Really? That’s hard to believe considering how quick you left after fucking me,” you quipped.

“I’m sorry, darling. I truly am.”

You met his lips in a soft kiss, your fists clenching around his coat.

“How’ve you been holding up?”

“I’ve just been dandy.”

Lies.

“Sort of glad I didn't have your child.”

Lies.

“Tried to get back out there after you left.”

Lies.

His arm tightened around you at the last of your statements.

“Tell me, Hon. Am I marrying a whore?”

“‘Marrying a whore’?” you were flabbergasted. “One - never call me a whore again. Two - who said we are to be wed?”

“Me.”

The simplicity of his statement baffled your mind.

“You? My father would never let me-“

“Marry a bastard. But, darling, as I remember, you’d told me something two years ago. You don’t care about the things you shan’t do and that shall include claiming me to be your king.”

“Well, why do you wait, my lord?”

He held you tight to his chest with his pupils blown.

“Tell me you’ll be mine, sweetheart. This is my proposal to you. We shall leave this land and rule our own kingdom together.”

“I do accept your proposal, my dearest, but I believe it isn’t that easy.”

“Nothing is easy, especially this. If your father is to deny our marriage and your leave, we shall go nonetheless.”

You grinned up at him, shaking your head as you laid your head on his chest.

“Then I shall marry you, my king.”

As expected, your parents didn’t have the merriest of a reaction when it came to notifying them of your leave with the man who’d notoriously been known to be a bastard. They were disappointed you wouldn’t be running their kingdom but they were relieved to see that you were finally off to be married. They hesitantly approved of the young man’s proposal, sending you off with him.

On your ride to your new castle, miles from your parents’ kingdom, you couldn’t help but question your husband-to-be.

“Why did you leave?”

He eyed you.

“The Night Watch. Why did you leave, Jon?”

“I know my status as a bastard would’ve done me well over there but I couldn’t take it. Being away from you, my family. It was eating at me day and night.”

“Then…why’d it take you two years to come back?”

“I didn’t know how to tell them I’d be leaving. It took me a long time to muster up the courage for that.”

You allowed yourself to remain silent until he placed a hand on top of yours.

“I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I regret ever setting myself up to be away for the rest of my life, but now I’ve got you and that’s all that I need.”

“You sure have a way with words, don’t you?”

His lip quirked into a gentle smile, his hand squeezing yours with tenderness.

In just a couple of weeks, you were settled into your new home with your husband. It was now time to host several dinners and welcome all to your land. You were beyond ecstatic but it wasn’t until the guests actually arrived that you became wary of those around you.

Daenerys had made quite the entrance into your home, every one entirely forgetting that you existed for a moment. The Khal trailed behind her, offering head nods to those that personally greeted him.

Your heart stammered in your chest beyond your control. You isolated yourself from the crowd, tears cascading down your cheeks as your breathing grew jagged.

Your husband seemed to be infatuated with the platinum blonde-haired girl. You couldn’t blame him but it was killing you. He hadn’t torn his eyes from her, nor did she. She seemed to eye Jon for a bit too long, keeping great eye contact with him as she bowed.

“No need for that,” he chuckled, greeting Drogo with a firm handshake.

He waited for you to greet the couple, not sparing a glance at your seat until he hadn’t heard your voice whatsoever.

“Y/N?”

Chatting and eating resumed, Jon’s leg bouncing anxiously. He watched like a hawk, eyes wandering about the crowd.

“Lord Snow, I don't think Lady Snow is feeling all that well.”

Upon hearing your name, you wiped the last of your tears, seating yourself at your husband's side yet again.

“Darling, what’s the matter?”

He held your face in his palm, eyebrows furrowing at your puffy and reddened eyes.

“Nothing, my lord.”

You spoke the words with such harshness that it pierced his heart.

“What-“

“Ah, Lord and Lady Snow! Why don’t you make a toast?”

“I don’t think-“

“Of course, Benjen. We shall give a toast!”

You stood with your goblet, Jon staring at you with confusion clear in his features before standing on his own two feet.

“Thank you all for coming tonight. Lord Snow and I are delighted to be sharing such a special moment with you all. We wouldn’t have wanted it to be spent any other way. Jon?”

He cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on you as he spoke.

“I’m sure I’m supposed to be thanking you lot but if it weren’t for my beautiful wife here, I wouldn’t be standing in front of you and for that, I thank her. I thank her for trying to understand me, for being the greatest human on earth, and for standing by my side regardless of what. I’ve known the shame of being a bastard for my whole life but she’s willing to bear the embarrassment of being wedded to me.”

His speech went on and on and on. It didn’t seem to end but your heart fluttered at his words. He grasped onto your hand when you turned away from him, your eyes catching Daenerys’. You shook those pestering thoughts from your mind, repeating ‘stop it, stop it, stop it’ over and over in your head.

That had only been the first of many instances, though.

You were distraught. It’d been months since you and Jon were lawfully wedded yet it seemed as if you couldn’t conceive. Your parents were applying pressure, sending ravens to your kingdom every day after, asking when you’d bear children.

After a dinner you’d put together at your castle, you lost it. Jon had spent nearly three hours lingering near the Khal and his Khaleesi. For only two minutes, he held you at his side while conversing with the couple. You’d shimmied yourself from his arms, entertaining the younger Stark children.

Robb had witnessed the way in which you embraced your inner child, chasing the kids around as they screamed their heads off. You shooed them away with a motion of your hand. With a hand on your hip, you watched them run off, your heart aching at the thought of never having children.

“Any luck yet, m’lady?”

Robb chuckled as you flinched in the slightest.

“My goodness, Robb. No, no luck yet. However, we already have names picked out, as well as runner-ups for godparents.”

“Oh really?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, spinning to face the brunette.

“If you’re so desperate to hear it, then yes, you are a candidate for our children’s godfather.”

He took your hand into his, landing a kiss on your knuckles as you giggled endlessly.

“I knew you always loved me,” he dramatically expressed.

You raised a brow, badgering him, “Say that with caution, Stark.”

“Or what? Lord Snow will behead me?”

“I might.”

The older boy wrapped his arm around his brother’s neck in a cub-like embrace.

“Goodness, Jon. Leave your brother be,” you scolded him, watching as his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer.

The dinner was called to an end rather soon, but a few of your guests straggled about - Khaleesi Daenerys amongst the few. Your eyes were like daggers as you watched Jon converse with the younger girl. You were drawn from your thoughts the moment Robb placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Now, Y/N, I am well aware that you think my brother is mad over this woman - or at the least, having an affair with her. But I can assure you, nothing of that sort is happening at all. He’s only trying to make am-“

“I’d like to hear that from him, Robb. If he’s just trying to make amends with the Khal and everyone then that’s on me. But it doesn’t help that the Khaleesi is that fucking gorgeous. She has these big doe eyes that scream ‘help me’ or ‘fuck me’! I don’t know which one it is but I’m afraid that Jon will play the hero and be the one that fulfills any of her needs.”

You were seething in the corner with Robb at your hip. He tried assuring you repeatedly but you were quite a stubborn queen.

After everyone had left for good, you wasted no time in heading straight to bed. You wanted to avoid Jon to the best of your ability but you simply couldn’t outdo the king. Before you could step foot out of your bedroom with your things in hand, Jon stepped in front of you. He backed you into the room, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he shut the door.

“What’s your problem?”

You tried to not break under his intense gaze, your eyes bouncing from his own to everywhere in the room.

“What is your issue, Y/N?”

His voice was too quiet for your comfort.

“Are you…having an affair with Daenerys, Jon?”

The words that left your mouth sent a genuine fit of laughter racking through his body.

“Are you being serious?”

“Answer the question.”

His laughter died down, his body gravitating towards yours.

“Of course, I’m not having an affair with Daenerys. What makes you ask this?”

“The way you look at her kills me, Jon. When she’s here, it feels like I don’t exist! Why do you think I disappear for hours on end- you know what - you don’t even realize that I’m gone because you’re too immersed in your interactions with her! It’s-“

His hands found themselves on either side of your face, forcing you to look at him, though gently.

“If I was having an affair with Daenerys or anyone else, do you think that I’d be in the same bed as you every single night? All of those things I said about you months ago were nothing but true. You were probably too busy being upset with me to hear most of it but I don’t want anyone else. I want you and only you.”

“Then why do you look at her the way that you do? There’s so much compassion and-“

“I look at her that way because I feel bad for her! She talks to me because she feels as if she can’t trust anyone else, not even her own brother. I’m sorry that I ever made you feel less important. You’re the most important person, the most important thing in this world. I care for Daenerys’ well-being but I don’t care about her the way I care about you. I love you and I know I don’t say it enough but I do!”

He panted as he read your face.

“So you’re not cheating on me?”

“No, and I never will! I only want you, Y/N Snow. Only you.”

His lips met yours, your shoulders falling as relief washed over you. You allowed your hands to get lost in his hair, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist as your lips moved in tandem.

“Tell me you love me.”

You hadn’t noticed the few tears that stained his cheeks until he spoke against your lips, your heart aching in your chest.

“Jon, my darling, I love you more than you will ever know.”

His arms tightened around you, lifting you from the ground as he pecked your skin.

“It seems as though I have to make up to you for the rest of my life,” he chuckled against your skin.

“Sweetheart, you loving me alone is enough of an apology.”

He laid you gently on the bed, undoing your bodice in an impressive amount of time. He held back no longer, suckling on the skin that was graciously presented to him.

“Jon,” you hummed.

He imitated your actions, putting a ministration to his movement once he’d reached your underpants. After kissing, biting, sucking on your skin, his lips were red and plump. They met yours again, the taste of whatever wine you’d been drinking just hours prior still lingering on your tongue.

He worked his hands into the sides of your underpants before pushing them down your legs. You whimpered against his tongue as his fingers stimulated your clit.

“Darling,” you gasped out, his fingers dipping in and out of your cunt.

He used a leg to pry yours apart, reveling in your angelic sounds. He propped himself up on his other arm, hand holding his head. With your hands tugging at his clothing, you pulled him in even closer.

His face disappeared into the nape of your neck. The way in which he breathed against your neck caused your skin to crawl.

His nose nudged at your jawline, a dumbstruck grin taking over his features once he felt your walls pulsating around his digits. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the next words that flew from his mouth.

“Lannister had told me he imagined you sitting on his face long before my proposal. I nearly slayed the son of a bitch until I realized you weren’t mine then. Why don’t you come on my face, sweetheart?”

“W-what?” You stammered out - half shocked at the proposition and half processing the fact that he was still fucking you with his fingers.

“My pretty girl doesn’t want to sit on my face?”

He jutted out his bottom lip, on which you pressed a kiss, uttering an ‘I do’. Your legs squirmed a bit more until you came. Your back arched off the mattress as you gasped and cried out. He slid his fingers into his mouth, his eyes locked on your blissful features.

“You taste heavenly,” he murmured, wiping his saliva-slicked fingers off on his bottoms.

His words made your cheeks heat up, using whatever strength you had to push yourself onto your knees.

“Are you sure about this, Jon?”

“A million times over - yes, I’m sure about this.”

He laid himself down, your legs trembling as your cunt hovered over his face. He brought you down in seconds, not being able to resist the temptation.

His tongue expertly worked your cunt as it’d done several times before. Sitting on his face, however, brought a new sense of pleasure to you - his nose bumping your clit every so often as the entirety of your cunt grew soaked. The mix of his saliva and your release sent you spiraling once more, the core in your lower half tightening before you could say anything.

His tongue softly fucked your desperate hole, a glass-shattering moan sounding from within. You couldn’t hold back any of it. You needed to let the whole damn castle know that your king was treating you right.

“Jon!”

One hand dropped to his hair, the other fondling your breast. Your eyes dropped to his, your body giving out at the sight of his disheveled hair and his eyes just begging for your come.

Your body shook gently as you came in his mouth, eyes screwing shut once your head had lolled back. You’d lifted yourself off to the side, your husband chuckling at your already fucked-out state.

“How was that?”

His fingers traced patterns on your skin as you came down from one of your many highs for the night.

“Fuckin’ amazing,” you breathed out, your arms reaching for him once he’d brought himself to his knees.

You watched as he undid his bottoms. The intense eye contact he held with you was a telltale sign that you needed to help him out of his clothes before he exploded.

“I won’t be rough tonight,” he whispered.

You bit your lip, feeling the burn of his gaze on your face as you undid the buttons of his shirt. Your insides grew fuzzy, becoming giddy at the fact that this was truly your husband. No one, nothing could ever take him away from you.

He stood nude before you, pressing his back to the headboard before patting his lap. You climbed onto him in a matter of seconds, your hands already stabilizing themselves on his shoulders. Your knees bent at either hip, legs akimbo to appease his girth. You pumped him a few times, running his tip up and down your fold before sinking onto him with a cry.

“Has it been long, my darling?”

You nodded, offering an airy chuckle as you struggled to take all of him.

“Gods, I’m beyond s-“

You hushed him with a kiss on the lips, your hips beginning to rock back and forth once you’d hit his base. His hands fell to your behind, your back arching as he hit that spongy spot inside of you. His name left your mouth like a mantra, chants of ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ following right after. Your mouths found one another in a slobbery mess, a clash of teeth and tongue as the rutting of your hips became more desperate.

“Stop apologizing, my lord. I- holy shit, I love you,” you choked out.

“I love you, sweet girl.”

His forearms held onto your waist, using this as leverage to thrust himself further into you.

The pace of his hips, the words exchanged, the looks on both of your faces. Just outside your door, guards exchanged knowing glances, clearing their throats at the sounds that came from the both of you. They seemingly grew louder, Jon taking the opportunity to let the words flow from his mouth - “I shall put a baby in you tonight.”

And so the night proceeded. Jon didn’t let up until you physically couldn’t go for another round, making sure none of his seed left your womb.

It was a relief to know that your king, your lord, your love wanted you and only you.

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[halfmoth-halfman]

Preserve Your Love In A Field Of Tulips

Pairing: Kento Nanami x GN!Reader Word Count: 3.9k Warnings: fluff, whump, bruises, blood, injury, shibuya aftermath, nanami survives shibuya A/N: we got the winner of the last fic poll!! it's my first fic in a while so i hope y'all enjoy it, and if you notice typos...no you didn't lmao

You grow up next to a field of wildflowers, in a house that smells of summer and honey.

It’s been in your family for generations, a cozy two-story away from the noise and chaos of the city. As a child, your mother told you stories of it being built by a grandfather of a grandfather trying to find a place for himself in the world. The story changed each time, every retelling more fantastical than the last. Sometimes she claimed he came to this field to escape a great evil that haunted his family home. Other times she claimed that he’d fallen in love with a spirit that lived among the wildflowers and built his home here in hopes of seeing her again.

Your father’s explanation was far more practical, and probably closer to the truth. A simple story of a man wanting to see the world and build a legacy of his own without the overbearing opinions of his family. 

Whatever the truth, the house is yours now. 

Your little paradise, a space lovingly carved out of the world and meant just for you.

You do your best to honor their memory, to care for this gift you’ve been given properly. You tend to your mother’s herb garden, care for the shubunkin and tamasaba in your great uncle’s pond, and leave little pieces of yourself throughout the house to make it your own. 

You don’t mind the routine, finding peace in the feel of the sun warming your skin and the soft glow of fireflies at night. You know this is a gift meant to be shared, something made to pass on to your children and their children after. There’s no rush, you tell yourself. You’re content in your solitude, satisfied with the few close friendships you’ve nurtured over the years. Of course, those friendships were from your time spent abroad with no one close enough to actually meet with in person.

Maybe the isolation can be a bit much, but it’s not like you can’t visit the city at any time. 

“You have your whole life to find love,” your mother once told you while you helped her wash dishes, a knowing smile on her kind face. She’d taken a moment to lean down to you, glancing at your father as she whispered conspiratorially into your ear, “And this place has a way of sending you exactly what you need when you least expect it.” She winked at you then, returning to the dishes while humming a soft tune.

She spoke about your home like that often, as if it were a living, thinking thing. You struggled to believe her even as a child, sharing in your father’s more “practical” line of thought.

You should’ve known that even in death your mother was always right. 

Seven summers after you inherit the house, a week of harsh rains and unnatural winds leaves your land a mess of mud and branches. You spend far too many days trying to salvage your flooded herb garden and saving your fish from their overflowing pond. Only when the land is somewhat cleared does the storm return, disappearing and reappearing in patterns that purposely inconvenience you. 

You’re fed up, sitting hopelessly on the rain-soaked steps of your porch as the storm rages around you when a stranger appears.

Umbrella in hand, wearing a tan suit and strange sunglasses, the man politely ushers you inside “for your own safety”. It’s the only thing he says to you, offering no explanations for why he’s here or how he found this place. Sealed inside your house, no light except for the lightning flashing through your windows, you rush to the living room, climbing atop your couch to peer through your curtains and search for the stranger in your yard. 

It’s not hard to spot the blonde of his hair even through the heavy downpour, but your attention is immediately drawn to the massive creature swatting at him from the clouds. It’s grotesque, a twisted form of sharpened teeth and bloated, purple arms. The man is seemingly unbothered, dodging its swings with ease. The creature roars, echoes of thunder rattling the walls of your house. The skin on its many arms burst open, bolts of lightning shooting from its veins. The light is blinding, its roar pressing painfully into your eardrums until you’re crouched on your living room floor with your eyes shut and hands squeezing against your ears.

You don’t realize it’s over until a warm hand is laid on your shoulder, and you find the man crouched in front of you. He’s soaked, dripping red-tinted rainwater onto your floor, but he looks at you with genuine concern. 

“Are you alright?” he asks softly. 

So many questions swirl around your head: Who are you? What was that thing? Did you kill it? How did you do that? How did you know to come here? 

“Did that thing hurt my fish?” Is what leaves your mouth. The man blinks, surprise briefly flashing across his face. 

“I don’t think so.” 

You sag forward without thinking, your head coming to rest on his shoulder with a relieved sigh. Already you can feel exhaustion creeping in, your eyes sliding closed as you mutter a soft thanks. 

The man clears his throat, shifting awkwardly beneath you.

“The garden will need some work, however.”

He’d introduced himself as Kento Nanami, politely offering to help clear out your garden before he left. You’d declined, exhausted and defeated, but thanked him nonetheless. He helped you to your feet, guiding you around the puddles on your floor as he brought you to the stairs. It took three times to assure him that you could make it to your room by yourself, and he still waited until you were at the top of the steps to take his leave.

It only takes you a day to convince yourself it was nothing more than a vivid dream brought on by stress and too little sleep. It’s easier to believe, far easier than the idea of a handsome stranger showing up in the middle of a storm to fight a massive sky demon in your front yard. If something so crazy had actually happened, surely there would be evidence of it. Yet, there are no stains on your living room floor, no destruction in your herb garden aside from some extra mud, no giant, bloated sky demon corpse lying around.

There’s nothing but your memories of an admittedly wild dream…

Nothing but your memories, and the handsome, blonde man dressed in a tan suit standing at your front door a week later. He ignores the stunned look on your face, holding up a blue gift bag decorated with cartoon goldfish and a talking turtle. You wordlessly take the bag, peering inside in equal parts curiosity and disbelief.

Lights shaped like white lotus flowers, polished rocks, and two yellow duck figurines. 

“A few pieces from your pond were damaged,” he explains. “Fish can get stressed if there are extreme changes to their environment.”

“You…” You blink up at him, trying to come to terms with the fact that the handsome man from your dream is, in fact, real and bringing you decorations to calm your fish. “It's Kento, right?”

“I apologize for the abrupt visit–”

“Where’d you put the body?” 

You’ve stunned him into silence once more, Kento staring at you with his mouth slightly open. He composes himself quickly, straightening with a small cough.

“The body?”

“The sky demon. That was real, right? I didn’t dream that? I don’t think I did ‘cause that would mean I dreamt you up, which…well, I might have – you seem like the type I’d dream of. But you’re standing in front of me right now, and I’m definitely not asleep. Unless I’m hallucinating…” 

You reach out without thinking, snatching your hand back the moment your fingertips meet the solid muscle of his torso. “Nope, you’re real and I’m...making a fool of myself.”

“It’s a lot to process,” he nods. You nod in return, eyes bouncing back between him and the bag in your hands. “I’m sure you need time–”

He takes a step back, and that’s all you need to snap back to reality.

“Yes, well no…” He pauses, waiting patiently as you take a deep breath to gather your words. 

“Thank you for the gift and the–” you gesture up to the clear, blue sky, “–demon…thing. If you’d like, you can come inside for a bit.”

Kento raises his brows, and you think you catch the brief twitch of his mouth. “That’s not necessary–”

“It’s more for me, really. I think I’m still trying to process…everything, and I could use the company.” 

You notice the way he glances down, a short look to the nervous smile on your lips to the shaking of your hands around the handles of the gift bag. If the rambling doesn’t give your nerves away, the rest certainly does, but Kento is polite enough not to mention it. 

“Alright,” he nods, lips pulled into a small smile. 

Over the afternoon, Kento eases you through a simple explanation of the curse – not demon – that had tried to make a home in your skies. The explanation leads into a wider conversation about curses as a whole and his role in dealing with them. He’s vague but patient, answering your questions in a calm manner that soothes your anxiety without going into detail. There’s more silence than there is conversation, but he doesn’t seem to mind. You’re sure he feels sorry for you, watching you try to navigate as your world gets flipped on its head.

Guilt sets in by late afternoon when you realize that his work is far more important than wasting time comforting you. You thank him for staying, letting him leave with more thanks than he’s probably comfortable with. He offers to come back in a few weeks if you need, but you assure him you’re fine. 

He gives you a smile, one you’re coming to understand means he sees right through your lies, before gesturing to the gift bag sitting on your coffee table. 

“I look forward to seeing what you do with the pond, then,” he says. “Since you’re sure you’re alright.”

He’s walking away before you can argue, and you swear you catch the hint of a smirk. 

Kento visits three weeks later, keeping his word as he heads straight to your pond.

You took a trip to the city and bought a few more decorations since his visit, working on getting the pond back to normal as a way to distract your mind. You think you’ve come to terms with the idea of curses, though the feeling of being watched has spiked your paranoia.

“Not bad,” he hums, crouching down to assess the duck figurines you have next to the small waterfall.

“The fish seem to appreciate it,” you shrug, watching your fish happily circle the pond. He gives a contemplative hum, running a finger along the water’s surface to watch one of the tamasaba follow along the ripples. A comfortable silence stretches over the pond, broken a few moments later by the ringing of Kento’s phone. 

He stands, taking a few steps away before answering. You take his place at the pond’s edge, content to watch the fish circle along the gentle waves and listen to Kento’s murmurs into his phone. He hangs up with a deep sigh, rejoining you at the pond. 

“More demon stuff to deal with?” you ask teasingly. 

“Next time I’ll bring something for the garden,” he says, watching the fish circle for a few seconds before looking to you.

“Next time?” 

He nods, and you smile wide, “Next time, then.” 

Kento visits two weeks later, a bag of star-shaped lights that he spends the afternoon stringing along your garden fence. He sticks around until after the sun sets – just to make sure the lights work, he claims – promising to fix the loose step on your porch before he leaves. 

Once your step is fixed, he insists on fixing the missing piece to your porch railing. 

After that, it’s the way your kitchen window squeaks when you slide it open. 

Then, it’s the loose knob on your front door.

Then the uneven chair at your dining table.

The bent bottom shelf of your bookcase. 

The crooked picture in the upstairs hallway.

Fixes turn to small talk turns to long conversations turns to lunch in the herb garden turns to sunsets by the pond. 

“What happens when there’s nothing left to fix?” you ask, watching the last of the sun’s light disappear beyond the horizon. “You have to be running out of stuff by now.” You try not to sound anxious, try not to worry that this may only be a passing fancy for him.

Kento pauses, finger still on the pond’s surface. He thinks for a moment, soft breeze ruffling the fabric of his blue shirt. A shiver skims across your skin, and you pull his jacket tighter around your shoulders. 

“Nothing to fix…” he mutters, pulling his hand from the pond to pick up one of the duck figurines. He glances at you before holding the duck up and letting go. You gasp as it breaks against the stone next to him. Kento’s gaze slides to you, a smirk stretched across his handsome face as he picks up another duck. A playful hum as he pretends to think, letting the second duck drop and break. 

“Looks like you need new ducks.” 

You don’t try to hide your laughter, playfully shoving against his shoulder as he sweeps the figurine pieces into a small pile. 

He stays an extra ten minutes that night, cleaning up the broken ducks and double-checking that nothing got into the pond. When you hand his jacket back, he refuses to take it. Instead, he makes you promise to return it when he comes back with new ducks and departs with a kiss on your cheek that has you too stunned to argue. 

After seven months of fixing, then breaking, then fixing again, you stand across from Kento in your living with nothing left for him. Nothing to break nor to fix. You’re sure that won’t stop him – you can see him already eyeing your bookcase – but you’re tired of your things caught in a constant state of not quite usable.

You have a much better idea. One that’s been stewing in your brain since he first appeared at your door with a bag of pond decorations. 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip when his back is turned, pulling at the skin until it gives and you taste iron. The sting makes you hiss, and Kento turns to you with a startled quickness. His eyes immediately fall to the blood on your lips, watching intensely as your tongue darts out to lick it away. 

“Any way you can fix–”

One hand on your jaw, the other on your neck, Kento pulls you forward until his lips are on yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, the sting pulling a sharp gasp from your mouth. He swallows it with another kiss, a desperate groan as his hand slides from your jaw into your hair. 

You part from him with a soft push, but he refuses to go far, leaning his forehead against yours. The hand on your neck moves to cup your cheek, thumb gently tracing the cut on your lip. 

“Better?” he rasps, pulling his fixated gaze from your mouth to your eyes. 

“Not sure,” you breathe, leaning in until your lips brush against his. “You might have to do it again.”

Over the next two years, you learn just how difficult life can be loving a Jujutsu sorcerer. 

While each moment spent with Kento is nothing short of bliss, it makes his absence all the more painful. Nights without him are spent worrying over his safety, doing everything in your power to not call the one number he’d given you in case of emergencies. Pain lingers in your chest every time you watch him walk out the door, threatening to squeeze your heart until it pops. 

Despite your feelings, you let him go every time.

And every time he returns to you. 

Most of the time he’s exhausted, and you’re more than happy to take care of him, to get him fed and washed and safe in bed. Sometimes he returns with new bruises or the occasional stitched wound. You fuss over him, and, despite his insistence that you don’t need to, he lets you do it.

The worst is when not all of him makes it back. It’s rare – Kento isn’t one to let his work affect his home life – but it does happen. On those days he sits by the pond, watching the fish go in circles for hours on end while you tend to the garden or pick wildflowers to decorate the house. 

He comes back to himself slowly, always apologizing with overwhelming affection when he’s more himself. There’s no reason for him to be sorry, you’ve told him so countless times. He’s here with you and that’s all you need.

He shares his plans with you late those nights, dreams of the two of you on a beach in Malaysia. You’re lulled to sleep by the whispered fantasies of the ocean breeze, the sun on your skin, and a ring on your finger. 

The first time you meet Takuma Ino, you slap him.

You don’t mean to – you’ve heard so many good things about him from Kento – but he appears on your doorstep, face bruised and spirit broken, and the words come spilling out of his mouth as thick and harsh as his tears. 

Curses. Attack. Shibuya. 

Burning. Kento. 

Not sure if he’ll make it.

You act before you think, leaving yet another mark on his already wounded face. You apologize immediately, but he takes it in stride. A pained smile on his face, Ino helps you pack a bag and brings you to Jujutsu High for the first time. 

Your introduction to Shoko is the stench of cigarettes and being bluntly told there’s little chance of Kento surviving his injuries. You’re too tired to worry, only desperate to see him. She gives you a pitying smile, allowing you and Ino into the infirmary. 

Your strength leaves you the moment you lay eyes on Kento’s bandaged form. Ino keeps you steady, a hand grasping your arm to keep you upright while he slides a chair over for you. You collapse into the chair, eyes fixated on your love.

You’ve seen him injured, but never to this extent. Only his upper half is visible to you, his torso and left arm completely wrapped in bandages. Those bandages extend up the left side of his neck, packed with gauze as it covers the left side of his face. 

You reach over, gently brushing a piece of his hair from his face. His face contorts, a pained groan escaping his lips. You pull your hand back, heart-shattering at his labored breaths. 

You’ve seen him soft, vulnerable, hurt, but never weak. 

He groans again, muscles tensing, hand fisting into the thin sheet over his lower half. You set your hand over his, tenderly running your thumb across his knuckles. Murmurs of praise and love rush past your lips as you try to comfort him. 

Ino sets a hand on your shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. A silent question if you’re alright. You look back at him with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You give his hand a light squeeze, a million thanks on the tip of your tongue. 

He moves your bag next to your chair, eyes glancing to the infirmary door. 

“If you need anything…” he says softly. You nod, watching Ino give Kento one last look of deep anguish before he forces himself away. 

His footsteps fade. The door clicks shut. Kento groans, blood staining the bandages on his face. 

You weep. 

Recovery is long and hard. 

The first weeks back home are spent struggling to adjust, Kento to his slow healing injuries and you to his attitude. He’s never angry or short with you, always appreciative of your efforts, and far more considerate of your feelings than his own, but you can see the exhaustion in his face. You catch the way he deflates when he thinks you aren’t looking, the way he frowns whenever he passes by a mirror, the way he politely avoids your affection.

He may not voice it, but you know he feels defeated. 

You keep yourself in good spirits, telling yourself that your optimism will catch on eventually.

And it does.

Months pass and Kento learns to move more, talk more, smile more. Ino visits on occasion, the two of you playfully bullying Kento into getting the rest he deserves while you make dinner. Shoko once a week, then once every other week, then once a month, keeping an eye on Kento’s recovery. Her visits aren’t long, and she’s still terribly blunt with you, but you go out of your way to ensure she knows how grateful you are to her, and she gives you a rare smile just before she leaves.

Things are good for the most part. Bad nights still happen, as they are bound to after what he’s been through. Nights when Kento’s trapped in his memories until you manage to wake him. Nights when he can’t sleep, sitting out by the pond until long after the sun has risen. Nights when he flinches at even the softest of touches from you. 

You worry. How could you not? But you’re there for him every step of the way, supporting him when he needs you there and giving him space when he doesn’t. 

He kisses you again six months after Shibuya. After a particularly bad nightmare, you coax him back into the waking world only to have him collapse into sobs against your chest. You hold him, soothe him, let him finally have this release. He sobs through apology after apology, to you, to Ino, to people you’ve never heard of. Everything spills out of him, every worry, every impossible dream, every fear, the neverending paranoia that one day you’ll regret wasting so much time on him.

“Never in my life would I regret you, Kento Nanami,” you tell him, hand softly cupping the ruined half of his jaw. “You’re stuck with me forever.”

He kisses you then, desperate and wanting, and you spend the night showing him every way you could love him now and forever. 

A year and a half after Shibuya, you lay in the field of wildflowers near your home with your fingers woven through the mottled and warped ones of your husband. It’s a peaceful afternoon spent gazing at clouds, sharing carefully sliced oranges, and basking in the warmth of the sun.

Kento turns, watching your eyes explore the sky as you smile and point at a cloud that’s shaped like a fish. Golden light on your face, petals stuck to your hair, you’ve never looked more beautiful to him. You catch him staring, laughter spilling out of you as you snuggle up to his side. You kiss his cheek, lifting the hand clasped in yours to point him toward your fish-shaped cloud.

He never sees the cloud, too distracted by the way your rings sparkle in the sunlight. 

It isn’t Malaysia, no. It’s far, far better.

[satocidal]

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ Unfortunately, Yours

↳ Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Episode 1:-

↳ ||Masterlist||Taglist Form||next chapter(two)||

Synopsis: It is when the birth right is snatched from your hands that your eyes truly ever open—especially when it’s always been there, right in your grasp. The Throne was yours, that was the truth promised and yet- yet your fate lay sealed with a certain Gojo. With an arranged marriage set in plan, alongs sets the plan of murder—within a wife who wants the throne and a husband who wants nothing but power, but suffers with them the present and the future of other two—especially when the lies of the past start surfacing.

— Word count: 3.9k

— A/n: ahhhh I have so many nerves lmao because this is the first chapter and I don’t wanna ruin it at all lol. And I wanna keep everything so subtle yk? But hope you guys like this!

— Warnings: Asshole Satoru; Asshole reader; mentions of adultery; slight objectification(?); Fem Bodied! Reader; usage of feminine terms; author thinks she can write💀 ps: I’ve never seen Christian weddings (or whatever I’ve written idk lol) so bare with me; typos

Hands that were trained, calloused once with bruises, prepared to be painted with blood now sat idle—a diamond ring in the finger.

Fate- the red string- two ends.

About 8 billion people walked the surface of earth—it was said, heard, stated, passed—The Greek god Zeus split each one of us into halves, punished to roam the earth and find our other half—the soulmate. Fatalism stated that everything was predestined- so it must be true, the concept of it.

Marriage—sacred, pure.

The day was clear as ever in your eyes—your father had entered the room, a solemn look on his face, a ring in hand; the entire month you had watched as the Gojos became a usual Tomorrow; you had watched as your sisters giggled at the premonition of your marriage; you had watched as the tables shifted and you had watched, and watched and watched.

Eyes numb, heart aching and mind a mess, you watched for that was all you could do now.

It was rushed, the whole process of it—a month ago your wedding planned and a month later you were gone. You didn’t want the wedding, you were sure Satoru Gojo didn’t either—“He’s so in love with you,” from your cousins deluded you—“I’m so lucky to have you,” from his mother.

Mind filled with thoughts of a man you’d only meet at the night of your wedding.

No amount of convincing could’ve been for you to utter a yes—but a definitive “You will do it,” from your father did wonders.

“You’ll be alright,” a whisper—your mother’s, soft, harsh.

“You have to be alright,” a demand—your father’s, careful, adamant.

“Promise me you’ll be alright,” a thought—your sister’s, empty, or so you dared to think.

And that was true, in a lonesome bind, you thought a lot.

You thought when your sister braided your hair, pretty, elegant—nothing you’d ever found yourself to be defined as.

You thought while your mother and grandmother, aunts and maids—they giggled, old wives’ tales falling off chastised lips like honey.

You thought when you found your father’s eyes hiding—nervous, you’d noted but you only thought.

And you thought still when the morning arrived, you sister kneeling beside you—eyes focused, narrowed, fingers working fast to smoothen the white.

Perfect the white.

Perfect your impure white—the dirty kind.

And finally, alone with your sister, you spoke.

“You must be glad,”

A silence met you, heavy.

“Don’t be shy about it, not anymore,”

A sigh— she got up slow, eyes focused still on your white gown—“you look gorgeous,” a mumble you heard.

You found yourself staring at her curls—when did she curl those you wondered, but then she’d answer that you didn’t care and perhaps, you didn’t.

Not usually.

“We’re sisters Aki,” you pestered, “you can tell me ya know?” You winked—a smirk, a tease—all to prove your point.

“The wedding is to begin in an hour now then, be prepared,”

“Don’t change topics. Tell me you’re happy about it, about all this,”

Another sigh—a glare and a huff, “Has father stuffed lies so deep your throat that you’re begging to hear them now?”

Again, silence.

Father—

Your eye twitched—nose puffed and eyes flared at your form in the mirror—you did you look gorgeous, or at least, different. A good different, arguably.

“Alright,” she mumbled quietly then, “c’mere—” her hands beckoned you close, her own navy blue contrasting to your pure white—ironic, you mused.

“What,” face scrunched, you let out—causing your sister to chuckle, “At least smile at your own wedding y/n,”

A scoff—“I’ll cry if I damn want to—and no, not for the dramatics,” a chuckle, this time, mutual.

“I’ll miss you,” you heard her whisper against you, entrapped in an embrace you stood, stiff—your eyes lay blank.

“Was it…my—”

“It’s not to chastise you,”

“It’s no less than that,”

“Endure it,”

A tear, quick, rolled down your cheek—wiped off all too quickly by your own sister—for you were to look perfect tonight.

Perfect for your perfect husband.

“Find your happiness there,” she whispered against your shoulder—you sobbed, “Why is he sending me away?”

Cruel. Cruel. Cruel.

“He sent us all away- even mother,” her hands patted your back- the touch felt foreign—“Not me,” your voice rasped, “I was different, I was better, I was the best he had,” her hands tensed around you—“I don’t know,” she confessed, “but promise me, you’ll be happy there,”

You nodded- empty.

“He’s going to be a fool in love,” her voice adorned, his mother- sharp- “So fortunate to get someone like you in my house, such a sweet pretty thing you are,” you smiled in accordance- hands clenched.

It was for her sake, you believed, the Gojo family worked in her shadow— a finger lifted meant everyone had to stand, a finger pressed and silence—in some way or the other, she stood to be your admiration. To hold power was to be nothing however to call power, now that, you admired.

It was in the way she was subtle but oh so glorified—Kana Gojo, perhaps the only woman or human you’d dared to look upto.

You smiled as she’d walked you around—parading shops through shops, looking for what she deemed the perfect dress—perfect, she wanted it to be—perfect not for her son but perfect in every sense of it.

-

A gift placed in your hand- bribe—“Aren’t you the sweetest Hm?” A smile, vaunted- his father, a careful spendthrift in every sense of the word.

You smiled, nodded and chuckled—“only learned from the best,” your eyes zoom over to your mother—never learned anything from her, you didn’t, and yet—formalities and a certain charm, you graced them evidently.

The head of the house, at least on paper—he didn’t hold much prowess with the profits but then, Gojos barely needed any more profit for the empire was built well and well enough to not crash. He did, however, hold his hands high and wide—welcoming, warm; everything his wife was not.

Not yin to her yang but the epitomised silver to her gold — Ginji Gojo, perhaps the only man to accustom himself to his wife, the only man you never truly could understand, along his son, of course.

You grinned as he lead you, hand held in his own—eyes searching for the perfect diamond to adorn not your finger but your marriage.

-

Shy glances and shyer hello-s he muttered, it was cute—you supposed, in the way a letter found is way in your hands—“Read it when you’re alone please,”—his cousin brother, innocent.

‘Hello,’ it began—cut off—‘Dear Y/n,’—cut off—‘assume I said something cool,’ you chuckled, the rest, a memory nestled deep in your mind.

He was young, 9–someone you hoped to inspire—Megumi—he didn’t know much, or anything at all, a subtle age of nine after all. But he knew enough.

Not enough to strike competition but smart enough to be called his successor; he was a smart kid you’d mused, a polite greet everytime you two met, a sweeter letter handed everytime.

Twice he cut off the beginning every time and deliberate you’d found it be—cuter still. And he lead you still, hand holding onto yours as he helped you decide on the flavour of the cake.

The girl, you watched from the corner of your eyes, chuckled, a hand reaching out to slap her father’s hand away—he chuckled, smiled, conversed—something and everything you never had.

A tear rolled down your cheek, salty—“Crying already?” The voice was gruff, your father’s.

“Father,” you muttered, hands reaching upto wipe the tear away quick—“Don’t,” he muttered, “Tears are useful.”

You could only nod.

The man stood beside you, taller by a decent inch or two—hands stuffed in his pocket and a bow tie tight around his neck; the man was slender— a ghost of the figure he used to be, could’ve been. A potential wasted, he called himself—a potential wasted, you too.

You watched him as he moved around you, hefty eyes felt heavy, scanning your form—“You look fine,” a compliment he’d deem it—perhaps it was, “Didn’t know white was your colour.”

It wasn’t.

Did he know anything about you? At all? No.

“Suppose it is, today onwards,” he smiled, you frowned, “That’s my girl.”

Another tear rolled quick, then another and they kept rolling, you stood blank.

“No,” you scowled defiantly—his hands working quick—scowl, mirroring yours as he wiped the tears—“When I said tears, I didn’t mean these many. You cannot possibly be this dramatic.”

An empty grin.

“Dramatic?” Voice pitched, brows raised, heart shattering you stared at him—“I am being dramatic?” Loud enough you were to have people raise the awareness that the bride was moody- or so they’d gossip and so you’d let them.

His eyes narrowed—a sign, quite usually telling you to quieten down—not today, “Why are you doing this?” You finally asked, shoulders relieved, heart heavier still—afraid the answer might me the truth you’ve fed yourself.

“Is this some- some-” you paused, a breath caught, eyes cast down—“punishment? Did I do something wrong?”

And in that moment, perhaps you were nothing more than a little girl—perhaps in that moment you wanted nothing more than your father’s reassurance—perhaps things could’ve been better.

But they weren’t—glory of fate itself.

“Don’t create a fucking scene,”

Had hearts really been made of glass, your father would’ve heard yours break—not once but a million times in that second. Again and again and again.

A noise—static.

“Yes sir,” you muttered, eyes dancing along his hands—you shuddered—he twisted his own.

-

His hands were soft as they held yours, he lead you slow, your father did.

The white veil that you’d spent hours to decide upon, the one you would never care about—it swept beside you, gasps escaping the lips of many as you walked out.

And there, there your eyes met his.

Poised he stood, white hair slicked back—nothing like those superficial memories his mother had told about, nothing like the tabloids you’d seen. This man, the one on your altar—that was Satoru Gojo.

Not the Toru’ you’d heard of, not the Heir of Gojos you’d kept your eyes upon, not the stubborn and hardheaded Satoru-san his maids had warned you about, not anything you’d known.

This was Satoru Gojo, your husband to be.

You hadn’t assumed your wedding to be a fairytale—in all honesty, you hadn’t assumed anything at all.

A prison you’d deemed it on the first day and perhaps that was all it was—but something, just something in you cried all too much when Satoru didn’t slip so much as a smile towards you.

Don’t get me wrong, he’d grinned and smirked all night- teased by his friends—congratulated by everyone—he did show joy, in some meaning of the word.

Not to you- but I suppose a win that was too—after all, a marriage is built on the truths right?

Eyes moist, a tear he did let go off—superficial it was, you knew it, but a hero Satoru Gojo would be deemed the next day in the magazines his family would pay good money to.

Yours was never meant to be that perfect wedding, not at the core of it—you knew that from day one of the sequenced wedding but then—just something, someone in you cried a little too. Just someone broke inside when you realised it wouldn’t be your husband who cried the moment he set his eyes on his bride—it wouldn’t be you telling those cute stories about your wedding day.

It wouldn’t be you—it was normal you’d heard, for grooms to be overwhelmed in there weddings- the thought of spending a forever with his bride, the supposed memories flooding their mind—but it wouldn’t be for you. He stood there with hands behind him, eyes awaiting you presence still.

A smile he held—empty as you joined him—eyes were very telling you r father had preached, never once had you found him to be wrong.

His hands felt cold as you held them—cold like your father’s, colder still somehow was his presence. And your realised, heart — to what you had thought to be a void — breaking as you realised that the marriage was a cage to him as much as you. Neither happy—he wasn’t happy with your presence.

Pathetic. But again, did it truly matter?

The wedding had begun— officiated, soon your “I do”s would slip, the wedding couldn’t be stopped now, not ever.

And in that moment your eyes flickered to your own mother—she stood regal.

Embroidery she’d fought into you, cooking and baking, sewing a skill she’d made you own too—pity she couldn’t teach you controlling your emotions—pity your father was your influence.

Your eyes managed to flicker onto him—saintly, your brain mused—your heart couldn’t help but agree. And those saintly features held an ugly heart you told yourself, solace to a lonesome mind.

“Satoru, do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect Y/N, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forevermore?”

When he took a moment to answer with a blank gaze, you could feel tiny pricks being sent straight to your heart. Just a mere glance at his stolid mien was enough for you to believe that he was going to call off the wedding and run away—mayhaps you wanted that, mayhaps, you didn’t.

What else could you expect?

He clearly didn’t want this, understandable was the fact. It wouldn’t surprise you if he took a step back and announced that he couldn’t go on in making an oath to offer the rest of his life with you. That he would rather get out of this hell hole and be somewhere else than to proclaim a love that was being forced out of him.

“I do,” he professed, despite the inner turmoil that plagued his head.

You sighed—soft.

“Y/n, do you promise to love, honour and cherish and protect Satoru, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forevermore?”

Your eyes were quick—a glance here and there and everywhere—the pause was heavy; you watched your father’s nod of encouragement—your mother’s sharp eyes—his mother’s smile, fake- his father’s sip of champagne—your sister’s eyes’ were hazy; his best friend tipsy.

You couldn’t say no—“I do,”

“Bride and Groom, you have heard the words of love and marriage, have exchanged your vows and made your promises, and celebrated your union with the giving and receiving of rings. It is at this time that I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the officiant declared, “you may now kiss the bride.”

Your eyes widened behind your veil- your first- the breath hitched as Satoru removed your veil—crystal seemed his eyes, crystal clear was his distaste. He was tall—comical in fact—you tip toed slight, he leaned in a bit—the kiss was warm, chill, foreign. His hand rested upon your cheek, a stroke—a pull, brief.

Your eyes watched as he pulled away, a new smile on his lips—an actor he could’ve proven to be.

A million thoughts clouded you and him—known to only the two of you—marriage worked quick in that sense you supposed, mother and you sister weer perhaps right. But when all was said and done—the marriage was officiated.

And your eyes met then—a thought passed between you and your husband—stuck together—Unfortunately, Yours.

Hair slicked, ivory, elegant.

For a man who was yours even when he wasn’t—you supposed he was good.

Gojo Satoru swept across the room—a smile on his face, gentle; gentler was the rhythm he walked at. Here and there, he conversed, after all, a man of his charm he was- taking after none but his father.

Idle gossip danced along his ears while he giggled with women—politics fell off his lips as he sipped on the champagne—he teased and played with children too, laughing and joking with them—Gojo Satoru smiled to all but his wife-to-be. She sat there, quiet, unmoving, unrelenting—she lay still.

“It’s the fifth time you’ve stared at her in the last 3 minutes,” a glass in hand—a black suit adorned, Suguru waltzed beside him—a sly grin on his face, “I know you’re married but that’s really desperate, even for you,”

“Shut up,” Satoru muttered, grinning wide at the new set of guests—hand motioning the waiters to attended to it.

Suguru chuckled again, “Your dad really didn’t help out today either huh?”

“Old geezer’s getting drunk,” voice, plain—monotonous, hands clenched at his sides —begging to run through his hair—to ruin it all.

“How was she?”

“Boring,”

Suguru’s eyes zoomed on to the specific waitress—limping—he sighed, “Your mother was worried sick and you’re having affairs already?,” he began, hands reaching up to fix the shirt, “And today is your wedding today—have some etiquette,”

Eyes rolled—the same dialogue slipped off his mouth—“You’re becoming my mother—and she isn’t random; as is I’ll get her fired now,” he grinned this time around, “but not anymore, I’ve already got another woman to fuck around with,” a hand—sharp—landed on his head.

“Respect her,” the raven haired boy muttered, eyes focused and cast down, “She’s your wife today onwards—not just some woman you can fuck whenever you want,”

Satoru scowled, hands rubbing the back of his head, the spot where Suguru struck, “That’s all she means,”

“Don’t tempt me to make her a widow before she’s even married Satoru,” a grin, a huge one Suguru masked—words deadly balanced.

“Treat her well Satoru,”

“You marry her then,”

“Suck it up and smile,”

“Fuck you,”

“I will,”—a grin, a chuckle and that was that. A hand patted Satoru on the back—“Treat her well,” Suguru muttered again, both their eyes cast onto you—where a smile rested on both their lips, only one was genuine. Your eyes found tracing their oath to their spot too, black and white—they seemed a beautiful set—your eyes cast to your own gown and your sister’s. White and navy blue—all the same.

A couple and another, a pair of four.

Suguru let his eyes cast down to his watch—about time for the dance—“Satoru,” his voice was smooth, “it’s time for your dance,”

He hummed—“Her father, or I suppose mine too now—he wanted her first dance,” Suguru raised his brows, “and you let him? What happened ‘I don’t share’” A small smirk played on the younger male’s lips.

“I don’t share what’s mine—not all that-” another strike, harder.

-

Inhale, exhale- again.

You hands shook, and ears ringed—you were married. The statement related in your mind for the 5th time since.

Married. Tied down.

“Entertain me with the first dance m’lady?” Your eyes narrowed—sharp—“Father?”

Beside you stood you father indeed, an aura different—an aura that had become his past.

He smiled, kind—your confusion only grew—“It’s time sweetheart,” Your teeth clenched; sweetheart?

You nodded still—be his good girl—his hand held yours; yours, his.

The music was slow- none that you recognised, you needn’t, you’d want to forget the moment already. The applause for you was blurry, everything around you was too. Eyes didn’t bother running off to your mother, nor your husband—they never did around your father.

And in the moment, you could’ve sworn to the vain memory you held—your father seemed like the man you once knew; seemed like the one who had abandoned you. Rage seized a decent part of your mind—desperation to hold onto him took charge of the other.

He held you close- an embrace not felt in forever, “You’ll be fine baby,” he mumbled into your ear—“don’t say that,” you were quick to add.

“Don’t be like this,” you added next, his heart broke, yours already was.

He knew however, what you meant- not a single objection he raised, guilt all too evident on the face that held its own wisdom. Evident however, only to those who knew him and pity lay such, he never let you.

“Just entertain me here,” you finally spoke—a minute left of your song—“why did you agree to this? We’re not- we’re not in need of money, we’ve the perfect military- you’ve raised me enough for me to take over at any given instance then why—why them?”

His gaze should’ve hardened—you expected it; it softened.

“I apologise.”

You nodded yet again- an answer unkempt.

-

Satoru’s hand felt the same it had the altar, soft, scented- something you perhaps wanted to hated.

He spun you around—a man of honour your mother would call him, you beckoned yourself to him—a lady of grace his mother would call you.

People danced all around you, your eyes found their way onto your sister, smiling and giggling—suitors all around her, you smiled.

Eyes couldn’t help but falter at Suguru Geto- Satoru’s best friend, you’d learned—his presence too. In a shy corner he stood- girls around him, you wouldn’t blame them—he sought that attention after all, evident.

“You like this song?” Your eyes snapped onto Satoru—“Pardon?”

“This song, do you like it?” Your eyes gazed everyone—all the while, his, you.

“I’ve…never heard it before—”

“—well I particularly hate it,” your brows raised—“Oh alright,” you nodded, “I’ll make sure to not add it to the playlist ‘Wedding 2.0’,”

Smiles you both held- not for each other, formal entirely—“Hilarious,” he muttered, “Makes two of us,” you snapped back.

A momentary silence fell and you couldn’t yourself—“Don’t try to play the husband here, you don’t accept me and I don’t accept you which is all but fine by me but I don’t need you to make idle conversations.” Voice sharp- eyes more so.

He grinned—“Feisty Hm?” Your nose flared—“alright I’ll entertain you with the non-idle kind,” eyes looked down at you condescension, was it?

“Daddy raised you as his war general yeah?” Your jaw clenched, “what did they call you? His right arm? His best gem?”

“Domestic abuse,” you began slow, “is a very real concept Satoru,” you smiled dangerously sweet—“Pray tell, the way you speak may make you victim soon,”

He chuckled quietly, nothing humorous, “Daddy also taught you weaponry?”

“Don’t speak of him like that-respect him,” you warned, teeth gritted—both of yours eyes zooming onto him—Satoru smiled.

“Of course, nothing against my father-in-law,” another grin, “But I can say whatever to you right baby?”

You hated him.

Your eyes scanned his, his- yours.

A frown, a grin.

A cough sounded beside you just then—the man just as tall as your husband, just as, if not more so, elegant.

Your eyes met his—a pit, yours and his.

“M’lady,” he smiled smoothly- bending just enough to kiss your hand—eyes cast quick onto Satoru, “One dance with the lady of the night please?”

Never a question, only a statement.

“Yes please,” Satoru muttered all too quick- a sharp glance, yours and Suguru’s.

Before you knew it you were swept right away, Suguru danced faster—a style which complimented yours, Satoru? Quiet the very same as yours, clashing.

You smiled as he picked the momentum with you, a chuckle his too—“You look stunning tonight,”

A nervous smile you passed-“All the very same to you sir,” his eyes crept onto your skin quick—“Why, seems like it’s just the two War Generals appreciating each other,” he laughed.

You laughed along- your eyes pausing to scan the hilt of his dagger in the suit—“Talent sees talent, eh?”

Another laugh- empty. What had swept you off was pleasant, what danced with you was hollow.

“The wedding,” Suguru added—your ears perked.

“Yes?” You reflected instantly—“You helped in the management right?” He smiled—your eyes narrowed.

Bastard, you both mused.

You nodded politely, “Well a good wife has to take care of things yeah?”

He grinned, “Oh you’re all too good m’lady,” voice a whisper, “Seems to me you’ll give me a run for my life,”

You grinned back, “Bless my heart Suguru—never to my family.”

Eyes hollow, minds ran fast—‘Interesting’ you both wondered as Suguru handed you back to his best friend and your husband.

‘Interesting indeed’.

Reblogs and likes highly appreciated!

All of this work is original and entirely my own, please refrain from copying or reposting.

— Taglist: @rizzmin @4sat0ruu @lavendervogh @yooiimiya @gojoismybitch

[ncteez]

Premium Boy-Toy (l.j)

the one where your best friend gifts you an entire man, and that man just so happens to be in high demand for everyone but you, until now at least.

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.

requested by anon: “I don’t like getting off on my own.” + “No one’s ever touched fucked me like this,”

wordcount― 10.3k

pairing― stripper!Jeno x afab reader

content― switch jeno, rich/lonely reader, jeno gets kinda in a weird headspace after he cums lmao

note― congrats, you are witnessing the fact that i cannot defend that this is basically smut from start to finish. theres a lil bit of sugar baby jeno at the end tho so...um, also there's probably so many typos and way too many commas in this but to be fair i was in horny jail and just fucking going.

smut tags under cut:

smut tags: masturbation, jeno goes from having the power to releasing it to you completely, its very chaotic, stripping kind of, hand job, finger fucking, choking, sensitivity, edging but it’s his own fault, jeno talks a lot until he can’t anymore, titty sucking :D, protected sex

It was a gift, or rather, he was the gift. A down payment of $600 told you enough about the man who offers his services to lonely, sad, rich women who had no one to spend their money on. Your best friend had been taunting you with the idea for months. Since she heard of the infamous Jeno actually, even more so after she experienced him herself. She has mentioned how clean he is, how toned he is, how well he moves his body, how he teases just enough, and how he looks better in heels than she does herself.

You still can’t fully take that last part seriously. A male stripper in heels? Must cost extra for those who like that sort of thing, which is very clearly your best friend. Noted. Regardless, she had mentioned whispers from the elite women she associates with that sometimes he even gives an extra treat with his services, free of charge. What that treat is, neither of you know, but the implications are damning.

Even with all of the information being dangled in front of your face, presented as if the image should be more delicious than the century-old wine you have every night at dinner, you’re not interested. For the entire duration of her praising this all-amazing stripper, it hasn’t interested you. There’s shit to do and life to worry about, constantly actually. So, naturally, when she appears at your doorstep with an envelope in hand and yet another expensive bottle of champagne, you were wondering if you forgot your birthday because it wouldn’t be the first time.

She hadn’t pushed past you to come inside, she didn’t say a word actually, which was suspicious but kind of appreciated. Upon opening the small gift, it appears that she, herself, had dropped that $600 down payment in an attempt to force you out of being the stick in the mud that you are. The note states the date and time, which, curse her for knowing your schedule so well, and the demand that it’s your job to tip him and pretend to have some inkling of an interest.

So now, here you are. Waiting for that knock on your door and wondering why you even tried to look nice for a man coming to swing his meat in your face. Fucking unbelievable, you think, that there is a stripper out there that only does private parties, and your own best friend thinks you need it? You could have any dick you want, why the fuck should you have to pay just to look?

Surely, this man is expecting more than just you, alone on your couch with a sound system beyond his wildest dreams, one that you’ve only ever utilized when you need to watch a youtube tutorial on how to clean your windows the way the cleaner does. Surely, he’s expecting more than a woman who isn’t interested at all in this.

~

          To your dismay, Jeno appears to have already been told that you’re a nightmare to fluster or gain interest from. The first words he says to you when you open the door for him is, “She said you’d give me that look.” Still, even so, Jeno saunters in like he owns the place, and you can immediately tell he’s done this probably hundreds of times before. He appears comfortable in a place he’s never been, in a home probably much nicer than his own, finding his way to where his stage should be for the night.

“Big place. Looked smaller on the outside.” He says to your silence, looking around and placing his bag beside your couch.

“The smaller the better, sometimes it feels too big in here for just me.” You admit, watching him curiously as he pulls wires from his bag.

“Must get lonely.” Jeno shrugs, eyeing how stiff you are as he unravels his chords. “And, I assume, this is why I am being paid to be here.”

“This wasn’t my idea. Just so you’re aware.” You cross your arms, unimpressed by the man already.

“I was told that I need to show you a good time, I already knew you were new to this kind of thing.” He smiles, continuing to set up. “Besides, first-timers are my favorite to entertain.”

          Curiosity spikes again, only for a moment though. You really did think that the initial meeting would be different, less casual, even. Wasn’t he supposed to pretend to be a cop or something? Showing up and pressing play on a magical-appearing stereo that bumps the worst of music before gyrating at you? Instead, he’s here setting up and surprisingly, fully clothed in a tacky and ratty sweater with jeans that hug against his thighs. He doesn't appear at all to be a man that gets paid to take his clothes off for lonely hearts. You kind of want to ask him questions, but also you don’t think you should be learning more about him considering that’s not why he’s in your living room right now.

“Do you have mood lighting or are we doing this in morgue lighting?” He casually asks after plugging his laptop into your sound system and placing it on one of the various shelves. It almost makes you laugh.

You make your way to the wall, clicking the buttons on the panel to show him the various lighting options this room offers that you very rarely use.

“Perfect, that one.” He says from across the room, focusing his eyes from his laptop screen to you and your extravagant light switch. “A little lower.” He guides, knowing which lighting accentuates his toned body the best. You turn the nob a bit for him, wondering just how good he must be at dancing for women with houses like this.

“A little more.” He smiles.

          You dim the lighting just a smidge more, looking at him and the way he genuinely seems to be at ease.

“Right there.” He says in a gentler tone before focusing his eyes back on his laptop.

          You watch him tap his fingers across the keyboard, gliding around the little touchpad, and then, as if he’s the one who owns this house, he takes a step back and walks to your couch.

“Come sit, I’ll go get myself ready.” He smiles over at you as he pats the cushions. “Which way is the bathroom?”

Without a care in the world, you point towards the bathroom and decide he doesn’t need help getting there. Most people would be petrified of a strange man in their home, wandering the halls with the ability to come upon any room with unprotected goods. If he’s a thief of any kind, you can replace pretty much everything you own anyway. You don’t care.

Once he rounds the corner and you can hear the bathroom door close, you make your way to the couch and attempt to make yourself comfortable. Despite the countless naps you’ve had here on this plush and soft surface, you can’t bring yourself to find comfort sitting here right now. You’re curious about Jeno, yes, of course, you are. You’re curious about how much money he makes doing this, if he likes doing it, how he got started, what he does to advertise, and many other countless things, but you’re not entirely curious about how he does it. Sure, he’s attractive. Hot as hell, actually, but that doesn’t mean you should have to pay for attention from a man.

It almost feels like an insult from your best friend. Does she genuinely think you couldn’t go out right now and bag a man? Is this fun for her? A hobby, maybe?

“You overthink too much,” she always says to you, and yeah, perhaps she’s right. Maybe, since it’s going to happen anyway, you should at least try to enjoy it.

~

          Jeno stays in the bathroom for a good thirty or so minutes, and each of those minutes was like a nightmare in your head. You were back and forth between not wanting to be in this situation, to fighting yourself for being such a fucking bore. A very attractive man is preparing himself for you to look at. He’s going to come out here and do his best to turn you on, the least you can do is let yourself enjoy it. The very least you can do is tip him well and rub one out later after he’s gone and you’re on the verge of jumping out a window because you never make time to fuck.

          Fucking thankfully, the moment he comes out of the bathroom your brain adjusts itself into the right mind-state. You actually can’t look away from him even if you tried when he reveals himself. He isn’t dressed in anything that looks cheap, tacky, or even overly sexual. If anything, he looks expensive. Jeno genuinely looks like this is a place where he belongs.

          You can physically feel yourself react to him in his blazer and dress pants. Business is what got you to where you are today, but never have you found it sexy in any way, until now, at least. The suit looks much like what your team would wear in your company, shyly coming into your office and stuttering through their questions and need for approvals. Jeno isn’t stuttering in his suit though. He’s standing confidently at his laptop as if he hadn’t even noticed you staring yet.

          God, the way his abs were glistening in the dim lighting before he had turned away from you. The way the belt held his pants on his hips, begging to be unbuckled, the way the blazer widened his shoulders much better than his sweater from before. The smell that wafted off him was even prettier when paired with the image of him. He smelled like a sweet type of musk, something you’d be interested in drinking alongside your dinner on special occasions maybe. Assuming that scent is the reason his abs were fucking shining. Fucking body oil. He uses body oil.

          When he turns to face you again, this time with the bass of whatever song he had chosen to play accentuating each of his steps towards you, your cheeks start to heat up. He hasn’t rolled his body once and you’re already feeling like you could eat him alive, with the smirk on his face leading your eyes down to his neck, chest, abs, and that fucking belt.

“Good?” He asks, leaning over you and placing his arms on either side of you, gripping the back of the couch.

          Jeno can already tell that you’re going to be fun to play with. Such a harsh exterior from the beginning. To be fair, he was warned and prepared by your friend, which happens to be his newest client who tipped him more than anyone before.

          You nod to him, still eyeing his body in a shameful show of how much you did need this. What’s so bad about paying to look when he’s presenting himself like this?

“Rule number one,” He smiles, swaying in front of you and keeping his grip on the couch, mostly so that way you feel trapped and, hopefully, mesmerized by him. “I only accept bills of twenty, fifty, and one hundred. If you give me a fucking dollar, I’m leaving.”

          That’s not a problem because, despite your internal protests, you had only pulled out the bigger bills anyway. You nod to him, watching the way his hips start to swirl, too afraid to look up at his face because you know he’s looking down at you, intensely, probably.

“Rule number two.” He leans down, lowering his voice and blowing against your ear in a short breath. “Don’t touch me without asking.”

          You almost wanted to reach out immediately to touch him. You wanted to feel how slick that body oil was on him. You wanted the scent on your fingers for later. Mostly, you wanted to feel how warm he must be.

          This time he doesn’t wait for you to nod, because he can already see that familiar look on your face that he gets from most of his clients. This is why he’s so in demand.

“Rule number three.” He continues, pulling back and this time positioning his face in front of yours because this one is the most important. This one he needs you to look at his face rather than his body. “I won’t touch you unless ask me to.”

          What you’re not realizing at this moment is that rule number three isn’t one he often states. Sometimes, very rarely, Jeno is in a mood when he goes out on a job. He always has condoms with him just in case, but never intends to use them until meeting said client. She’s paying to look at him, not to touch him. If she piques his interest, he offers a third rule. If a client never hears of the third rule, they know that even if they ask to touch him, he wouldn’t allow it.

          Besides, the only reason he took so long in your bathroom is that his hand, for some reason, felt so good against his cock for the split second he had of tucking it into the most attractive position. He knew instantly that tonight was one of those nights, and hopefully, you take the bait.

          When you swallow and look him dead in the eye, he thinks you know what it means. He feels lucky that his cock is acting up. Lucky that your friend brought him to your attention, lucky that you’re looking so pretty and already so flustered by just looking at him.

          “Deal?” He finally says, tilting his head a bit and waiting for you to nod.

          You nod slowly, glancing down at his body again. He can tell you want him to start moving now, really moving.

“Is the song okay?” He asks, pulling back and bracing himself still against the back of your couch. “It was picked specifically for you.”

          You’re not entirely sure what he means by that, but you assume your friend must have told him what she thinks you like.

“It’s good,” You say, glancing away from his eye contact and suddenly feeling like a love-sick puppy in the way you feel so incredibly fucking shy right now by this man.

          He notes that you didn’t ask what he meant by the song being picked for you, but he doesn’t push it. He’s better at talking with his body anyway.

          Jeno begins to focus now, opting to start slowly and work his way up, specifically to work you up. He backs himself away from the couch, centering himself in your living room as he closes his eyes and stretches his arms up to loosen his body a bit more. Most of his clients love to see the way his muscles move as he stretches, so he hopes you’re of the same mind.

          This entire playlist is one he picks for clients like you. The ones he intends to let see all of him if they ask. The music is slow, the bass is strong, and each beat runs through his body in a way that makes him feel like he can move like he’s fucking you from across the room without so much as a touch.

          He’s at his best when this sort of thing happens inside of him, the eye contact is more intense, his hips are more pointed at a reason other than payment, and he feels his most attractive like this too.

          You’re sitting painfully stiff across from him on that couch, and he can’t help but keep a smirk plastered on his face for how lucky his other clients would think you are experiencing him like this for your first time of all things. He’s never attempted this with a new client, but god, look at you.

          His hips move on their own for the most part, he doesn’t have to think much when he’s getting into it. Jeno easily dances along to the music for you, not yet removing any amount of clothing. It’s the build-up for him, and he thinks it may be that for you too. Though, of course, if he leaves your house tonight with tips in his pockets and a hard, untouched cock, that’s fine too.

          You watch him, seeing the way the dim lighting of the room accentuates each little dip and rise against his chest and abdomen. He’s well-defined, with an immaculate body for this line of work. You find yourself understanding why he’s so favored in the group of lonely women.

          As the song begins to fade, Jeno appears to readjust himself. He watches you during the brief silence, a sort of fondness in his eyes making you wonder if he’s looking at you or if he does this for everyone. It felt intimate, and not at all like the silence needed to be filled with anything other than eye contact.

          For him though, a woman has never met his eye between songs. Usually, their eyes are glued to his chest, cock, hands, and neck– never his eyes. When the next song begins, he closes a bit of distance and skews his body so that you’re now watching him in profile.

          In some way, you have him feeling a bit flustered in the way you keep meeting his eye despite his body making a show for you. He’s never had to act with his face more than he has at this moment when he’s dropping to his knees during a bass drop, thrusting his hips forward in an attempt to make you imagine yourself bent over on the floor in front of him, you’re still searching his face.

          Only glancing down for a moment, he finds himself flicking his own eyes down, trying to guide yours somewhere else. He knows his job is to be looked at, to be seen, but this is far too seen for his liking, but when you gasp as his motions, skewing your mouth open slightly and gripping the hem of your dress, he realizes.

          The fact that this is your first time doing this is one thing, but the way you are experiencing it appears to be new ground for him. Typically, he speaks with his body, and it appears that now, he needs to portray some form of sexuality to you with his eyes. So, he does what you’re supposed to be doing.

          You watch him intently, not fully realizing that you’re not even watching him fuck the air in front of him. His eyes move from yours once again, this time to your body. He watches the way your fingers grip the fabric of the dress he would like to see somewhere on the floor later. He watches the way you slightly rub your legs together, almost too easy to miss. That alone was enough for him as his eyes bore holes into you, much like you should be doing to him.

          Jeno’s dancing turns more intentional, when he leans back on his arms, throwing his head back but keeping his eyes on you, he tries to show you what he would do to you specifically. You glance at his hips and the way he rolls them up, not even to the beat of the song.

          His blazer begins to slide off his shoulders by this point, and he continues his movements, watching the way your eyes take in the sight of his skin becoming more and more visible, you’re fighting now to keep eye contact as you stare at the way his abs flex when he presses forward. It’s a shame you’re not seeing his cock grow beneath his pants, honestly.

          With his blazer now pooled at his wrists, he finally pulls his eyes from you to try and regain his focus. He wants you so bad right now, and it’s bullshit because you’re supposed to be the one thinking like this for him. He can see that his movements are causing a reaction for you, but god, he’s practically masturbating himself against the inseam of his pants just to get you to say something to him.

          It’s time to turn it up a notch, the current song is soon to be replaced with another. His favorite song to dance to, his favorite song to fuck to. Because to be fair, by the time it hits the third song on this specific list, usually his clients are already shaking under him. Not you though, you’re holding yourself back, he can fucking see it.

          Ignoring the fact that it’s technically not time for him to move on to his next move-set, he leaves his blazer on your floor as he positions himself back on his knees, turning towards you this time and looking you straight in the eye. The fact that he’s hard and horny is enough to bring his confidence up enough to be seen in any way you’re looking at him.

          He’s slow when he does it, crawling a few steps closer to you. You watch his shoulders move in the light, his eyes dark, and his hair starting to fall from its perfected position. You don’t mean to, but you rub your legs together in a more obvious way at seeing him in front of you, coming towards you in such a way.

          Jeno looks smaller when he’s on his hands and knees, eyes looking up at you as if he could eat you whole. You wonder if your face reads the same for him, and nervousness begins to hit you again.

“You’re hot when you look down at me like that.” He says out of nowhere through the music, stopping in place and planting himself right at your feet. “I’d like to touch you for this next song, is that okay?”

          Never mind the fact that Jeno has never asked to touch a client before. He’s never had to ask. He can’t help it though; it doesn’t hurt to try right? Because his cock is aching in his pants, and he isn’t quite ready to wait for an entire two more songs to get them off just for you to see that he’s very much wanting to fuck you right now.

          On the other hand, you were so fucking fast to accept. Yes, yes, he can touch you. You want him to touch you. The entire idea that he’s just doing his job is so far in the back of your mind right now that you almost forget that he probably does this to most of the women he’s paid to see. Quite frankly, you don’t give a fuck.

          Jeno smiles at you as the current song finally begins to fade out. The silence is back and this time, you’re not looking into his eyes when you nod at him.

          He’s slow when he places his hands on your knees, rubbing up, up, up, until he’s able to lift himself from his knees and hover over you. Did he intentionally push your dress up your thighs? Yes. He wanted to see you rub them together in full shameless view for him. He wanted to know what his body does to you. Jeno stands hovering over you for a moment, hands staying on your thighs as he stares down at them as you do just as expected. For a moment, he forgets he’s supposed to be dancing for you, hell, he’s already shirtless and covered in oil.

“I’m going to get on top of you, okay?” He explains, removing his hands from your thighs and now gripping the back of the couch again as he did before.

“Do you do this for all of your clients?” You ask with a smile, suddenly and intensely into the man spreading his legs to prop himself up on your laugh.

          He shakes his head with a laugh, grabbing your hands and placing them on his chest.

“You can touch me, by the way.” He foregoes his own rule, not wanting to wait any longer for you to ask him yourself. “Just pull away if you don’t want to.” He adds, guiding your hands over his chest and down his abdomen.

“You didn’t answer my question–” You interrupt him, feeling your pussy drip against the fabric of your panties.

          He chuckles sweetly, stopping your hands at his abs and holding them there.

“No,” He admits, beginning to focus on the music now that he’s got your hands on him. “I don’t do this for all of my clients.” He adds, swirling his hips as he hovers over you, and avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, yeah?” You nervously chuckle back, feeling his muscles move beneath your hand as he thrusts his hips forward and back.

“You know,” He suddenly says, guiding your hands a bit lower. You feel the cold metal of his belt buckle against your palm. You think he’s going to stop there, like maybe this is just something he does to amp up the show or something, but no. He drags your hand down further until you feel the fabric of his pants rubbing harshly against it.  

          Your pulse begins to ring in your ears as you avoid looking to where your hand is right now, taking in a deep breath and shooting your gaze up to his. He’s not looking at you though. Jeno has dropped his head, staring at where he’s got your hand, and his hips are dancing into it, against it.

“I’ve never gotten this hard over a client that doesn’t want me.” He admits shamefully in a pathetic little laugh, bucking against your palm again to the beat of the song. “I can’t tell if I’m doing my job well enough,”

          You continue to watch him, and then you finally look at your hand. The sheer size of him rubbing against you is…it’s something entirely different than what you were expecting from this man. It feels forbidden; it feels wrong but goddamn. The man is masquerading his dancing so he can fuck himself against your hand right now.

“You’re doing so well, Jeno,” You finally say to him. The first compliment you’ve given him since he got here.

“Oh yeah?” He questions, lifting his head to meet your eyes again. “Unbuckle my pants then.”

          Despite this being a part of his job, he’s feeling a little desperate for you to do something on your own now, even if he has to tell you to do it.

“Show me how well I’m doing for you,” He raises his brows, now removing his hands from yours and running them up his chest. His hips continue to move on you, and he watches you as you hold your hand in place. “Come on, you don’t have to be shy, baby, I saw the way you were squeezing your thighs earlier.”

          Like a book, the two of you read the other at this moment. You’re not a woman of many words and he seems to understand that now, taking your single compliment and running with it. You do as he says, unbuckling his buckle and pulling it from his pants.

“Keep that with you,” He stresses, pressing his hips forward again as he continues his dance.

          Placing the belt beside you, you honestly have no idea what the fuck you’re doing, but you like it. You reach back to unbutton the pants, unzipping them just moments later. Then you still your hands, looking up at him with a curious face.

“Take it out, go on.” He says, “You know you can pull away if you don’t want to do anything, I’m not forcing anything. I’m asking.”

          You don’t even nod or pull your eyes away from him, knowing that you’re about to touch his bare cock as he sits spread across your lap. A lewd scene, one that feels both more intimate than you’ve ever been with another person, and also nowhere near as intimate as you need it to be.

          Jeno looks at you, so much eye contact becoming more and more comfortable for him as he learns what you seem to like. He can feel his cock spring free, the cool air rushing past his shaft and causing him to shiver on top of you. He still only looks at you during this moment, wondering why you’ve let your hands fall to his thighs until he sees that look in your eye again. You’re waiting to be told what to do. For some reason, he keeps forgetting that you’ve never had a stripper in your home before, let alone be seduced by one.

“Touch me,” He says gently, reaching back down to your hands and urging you to grab his cock. “You don’t have to move, I can do the rest–” He chokes out a groan mid-sentence feeling you grasp him in your fist with little effort or fear behind your eyes.

          Such a silent woman beneath him. He can only read you in specific moments, which is kind of nice. You’re hesitant but willing, and he wonders if he will get to actually touch more of you after this.

          Your hand is wrapped around his cock when he focuses his hips. He dances like he normally would for any woman during this song, it just so happens that he blatantly pretends to fuck to this song, because usually, he is fucking to this song. So, his dance is nothing short of fucking your fist. Still, he tries to keep up the act. He keeps his face intense, moving his shoulders and arms as if it’s easy for him not to turn the tables and position you so that your leg is on his shoulder and he’s rubbing his cock against your, hopefully, dripping panties.

          A struggle especially when you tighten your grip on him. He can see your pupils blow out, and he can see the way you’d probably ask for him to touch you much like he did, so he slows his hips a bit, intentionally thrusting slowly into your fist and holding back his own moans of pleasure.

“Sorry,” he says, trying to act as though he can’t see the look in your eyes and how it’s changed since he started dancing. “I don’t like getting off on my own.” He adds, now allowing his hips to still just to see if you’d pull your hand back.

          You don’t move your hand away, to his surprise, you are actually starting to move your fist on him.

“That’s good,” He groans, looking down at your hand. “It feels good,” He shakes a bit, shivering at the fact that you’re jerking him off now. “Can I stop pretending that I’m dancing for you now?”

          You chuckle at him, nodding with a confident sort of smile. It hit you quickly when you watched him chase his pleasure using your hand. He’s so hard and so incredibly thick, you’d be stupid if it didn’t turn you on. You’ve barely said anything to him and he’s begging for you to look at him, watch him, touch him. You feel powerful, and you’re used to that. It feels like everything has fallen into place despite this situation being far outside of your comfort zone. You’re finding similarities. Men beneath you, begging for your money, giving you all of their attention, apologizing for normal human errors. So, what if Jeno didn’t beg for your money, he’s begging for your hands on him practically, and apologizing for asking you to do it.

“No,” You say, and you can see the shock on his face. “Keep dancing, it’s what you’re being paid to do.”

          Jeno’s eyes kind of fall now as he nods his head. You almost feel his cock falter at the same time, but you move your hand a bit faster, urging him to do whatever it is that’s on his mind. You want to see if he will actually do as he’s told because you’re the one with the money.

          He does his best, and honestly, his best far surpasses some of the most notable dancers on the market in his opinion. It’s just a bit hard to continue this act when you’re gripping his cock in such a beautiful way.

“You’re not going to ask me to touch you more?” He asks meekly, almost as if he’s hiding his face from you now.

          You smile in response, pupils blown enough so that you can swallow each movement his body makes as he reluctantly moves to the beat. Honestly, your ears are ringing, and you don’t think you’ve heard a single lyric from the music playing since he placed your hands on him, but you think that should be a given.

“No wonder she liked you so much.” You start to speak, now loosening your grip on him just to see him frantically chase the warmth of the little circle your hand makes for him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks slightly out of breath. “You thought, I let her get me off like this?”

          It almost pisses him off that you’d say such a thing to him, but then again, he didn’t exactly tell you that this situation is reserved for very few people.

“You’re talking a lot of shit for someone who couldn’t even look at me properly less than thirty minutes ago.”

          You skew an eyebrow at him, watching him fight for control as he pulls his hips back and shuffles back onto his feet. You glance down at his cock and the way it stands painfully erect and twitching at the sudden lack of friction.

“You’re talking a lot of shit for a man who needs to cum.”

          He stills himself, a blank expression turning to that of a devilish smile, eyes narrowing as he leans over you.

“Are you suggesting that you’ll make me cum if I stop talking?”

          You smile, spreading your legs a bit and feeling the stickiness that has formed between them as he was on top of you.

“You know,” You mock him slightly, watching his eyes glue themselves to your thighs. You make a show to spread your legs a bit for him. “She told me that some clients have gotten special treatment from you, I wasn’t expecting that they were the ones getting you off.”

          Honestly, it’s like he hit the fucking jackpot with you. Challenging him, mocking him with his cock out in front of you. If you so much as wiggled your pussy in front of him, he would instantly be back on his knees, letting you soak his face in whatever way you please.

“Go on, dance.” You say, “You’re still wearing your pants.”

          It’s almost like a game now, he feels. You know he’s trying to seduce you and it seems you’re enjoying the fact that you haven’t let him yet. He knows that you intend to let him, so yeah, fuck yeah, he’s going to play along.

          He raises a brow at you as he steps back, trying to ignore the fact that his cock is aching to be touched again. You still want your show? Good. He’ll fucking give you a show.

          Jeno does as he’s told, keeping his eyes on you the entire time. He watches the way your legs spread when he rubs his hands down his naked chest, straight down to his cock where he only briefly tugs at himself. He can almost see under your dress when you do it, but the lighting is far too dim to see what his act is doing to you just yet.

          When he saunters behind you, dipping his head by your neck and whispering the dirtiest part of the song into your ear, he can see your sharp intake of air, and he watches the way your breasts move with your chest as you do it.

          He stays behind you now, ghosting his hands over your neck, moving down your arms, and then to your chest. He doesn’t touch, because you still haven't asked yet, but he knows the hovering alone is enough. It’s like he can feel the electricity beneath his fingers clash with whatever you’re radiating back at him.

He continues to sing against your ear, leaning further forward to plant his hands on your thighs again because that’s the one spot you already let him touch.

“Spread your legs for me.” He gently demands between lyrics.

          Jeno watches for a moment from behind you, pressing his cock against the back of the couch the moment he sees your legs fall open. Your dress is hiked up past your waist now, enough that he can at least see a glimpse of the skin closest to your pussy.

“Ask me to touch you.” He says against your ear, trailing his fingers up your thighs enough to where he would need you to tell him to stop otherwise. “I just need to know that you want it.”

          It’s silent save for the music playing, and his cock is aching so badly by this point that each time he rubs against the couch he’s almost breaking down to fucking beg you to let him touch you. That alone could make him cum, but god, you’re so good at playing hard to get even if it’s blatantly obvious that he’s already got you. You’re fucking playing with him, and he can’t decide if he loves it or hates it. Your silence is so damning to his dripping cock, and his skin feels so hot right now that he’s almost forgotten that he was paid to be doing anything that’s not this.

“I’m not asking for it.” You finally say, breathing in deep by the way his hands keep rubbing higher and higher, to the point that it’s genuinely difficult to not ask for it. “I want to be the one granting permission, Jeno.” You lean your head back and rest it against the cushions of the couch, and he instantly moves from your neck to look down at you.

“Oh.” He says, having no issue at all to be the one to ask, beg, plead, or cry. Whatever it takes to get a feel of you.

          Another long moment of eye contact has him trailing his hands higher than before, almost to the point that there’s no skin on your thighs to touch that isn’t your panty line or pussy.

“Can I?” He asks, leaning down a bit closer so that his face is mere inches from yours. “Will you take my fingers?”

          You could mistake this distance as something that should be closed between the two of you. Barely hearing his question at this moment, the only thing you want is to kiss him, and it hit you so fucking fast that you almost forgot he’s doing anything you ask of him.

“Come again?” You smile, blinking up at him.

          He breathes in, giving you the same smirk that appears on his face each time you entertain him a bit too much.

“Will you take my fingers?” He asks again, this time already moving his hands to trace up your panties and feeling the wetness seep through onto his fingertips. “You’re already dripping baby; I can imagine they’d slide right in.”

          Typically, you wouldn’t like being called that, but he’s done it twice now and each time it had your stomach in knots over it. His voice sounds like honey when he says it to you, and his darkened eyes only made it feel like there was some sort of desperation behind it. Finally, you press your hips up against his fingers.

“I’ll make you feel so good–” He continues, tracing his fingers up and down just to feel the sticky mess that’s there for him and him alone. “Moving your hips isn’t an answer though, baby.”

          You swear he can read your mind, there’s no fucking way he would say it like that without knowing how you just internally admitted to liking it.

“Yes,” You let out shortly, darting your eyes away from him.

          You can hear him release a breathy laugh and lay his head back beside your neck. His soft singing picks back up as he solely intends to listen to you now more than the music. He continuously presses his cock against the couch, holding his hips in place as he tenses his muscles throughout the time he’s spent in this position.

          Your hips lightly chase his fingers. They go up when his fingers trace down, and he can’t help but smile at the way he’s getting exactly what he wants despite your sudden change of personality towards him. He likes this version of you better, if he’s being honest.

          Jeno finally reaches around you and pulls at your panties, harshly tugging them down your legs as far as his arms can reach. He watches as you push them further down, kicking them onto the floor and relaxing back against the couch.

“Eager?” He tries to tease, but he knows you won't respond, and you dont. He just continues, now allowing himself to feel your bare pussy for the first time. Sure, he can’t see it in full right now, but sometimes just feeling was enough for him.

“You’re so wet right now—” He groans, pressing his cock against the back of the couch again, chasing any amount of friction he can have. His fingers slip into places he hadn’t even attempted to touch yet solely because of how wet you are. “You held out for so long.” He coos, teasing around your hole and chuckling at the way your breathing has grown a bit labored by this alone.

          When you grab his hand though, practically forcing him to drive his fingers into you, he’s taken by surprise. The warmth envelops his digits in a way that is audible and excruciatingly sexy to him. He doesn’t even attempt to hold back now.

“They really did slip right in–” He rasps against your neck, scissoring his fingers into you and feeling how you clench around them. His mind is racing. “I bet you could take my cock so well.”

          He’s talking to himself more than you right now, smelling your hair and becoming obsessed with the way you feel, look, and smell when you’re within inches of him like this. Better yet, he knows you won’t respond to a single thing he says but it doesn’t matter too much considering you’re starting to let out little whimpers.

“What was that?” He asks, running his other hand up your body until he gets to your neck. “Let me hear you, baby, make that sound again.” He adds as he pushes your chin back, resting his hand flush across your neck and practically holding you down that way as he begins to plunge his fingers into you.

“You can do it right?” He’s still talking, still humping your couch, still fucking you so good with his fingers. “Come on, do it again.”

          It’s like he’s working for it, and god, he’s doing so well. You can’t help it when you let out a choked moan, his hand straining your neck enough that any sound would come out strained and desperate. You can feel his grasp tighten against your neck as his fingers fuck faster, harder. His palm is placed so perfectly that you can feel your clit being rubbed harshly. It’s incredibly overwhelming.

“Yes, fuck–again.” He groans, bucking his hips forward and frantically lifting his head from your shoulder so that he can look down at you again. He’s heard you, now he wants to see how desperate you are.

          When you open your eyes again, all you can see is his face, all you can feel are his long fingers pressing in spots that haven’t been played with in a long time. You smell only his sweet, musky body oil, and jesus christ it’s hitting you in every spot that feels good. You can feel the cold metal of the rings on his fingers against your neck, and when he tightens his hand even more than before, another choked-out moan falls from your lips.

          You strain to keep your eyes on him through this moment of pleasure, watching the way his teeth appear and scrape at his bottom lip when you make noises for him. So, you do it again, and again, and again.

          He fingers only continue their aggressive assault inside of you, his palm rubbing harshly at your clit, and his other hand around your throat– honestly you could fucking sing songs to him in this moment.

“You’re shaking,” He comments, eyes flicking to your body. “Can you even breathe right now?”

          His smile is so fucking mean, knowing full well that you can’t breathe and only tightening his hand as hard as he thinks you can handle can after the fact. It doesn’t even cross his mind that you don’t want this, the way you’re moaning for him is all he needs to know that you’re into this, that you like being choked and fucked.

          When you moan out yet again, he releases his hand from your throat and leans down to your lips. He’s only a bit shocked that you don’t even hesitate to kiss him. What he wanted to do was degrade you, but now he’s just tasting the way you’re desperately trying to kiss him and if he’s wanting to be real right now, that was way better than his own idea.

          He doesn’t kiss his clients, but at this point, things have already lasted much longer and have gotten far more intimate than they ever have with those few lucky women. He’s never asked for it, he’s never gotten so much pleasure out of finger fucking them, and he’s not once ever fucked against a couch to chase his high.

          Pupils blown, he allows himself to kiss you, slowing his fingers unintentionally as he focuses on your lips and tongue. You kiss him better than he’s ever been kissed before and falling into it was terrifyingly easy. His hand moves on its own accord, cupping your jaw as he attempts to deepen the kiss past his comfort level.

          But he is comfortable, and that’s precisely what’s uncomfortable about it.

“You can take it, right?” He pulls back in a breath, waiting for you to open your eyes and look at him. “My cock, please.”

          Your eyes widen, somehow managing to forget that he’s been totally neglected through all of his. Are you really about to fuck this stripper? The man you were against meeting? The man who has $600 dollars in his bank account from your lovely, beautiful, amazing best friend? The man that you’re probably going to give the entirety of the contents in your purse to the moment he packs it up and moves on as if it never happened? The answer is yes.

“I can.” You look up at him, intentionally fucking yourself on his fingers now because it appears he’s stopped functioning altogether.

          Within a second, his fingers are out of you and his presence is gone. You lift your head to watch him, cock still out of his pants that are also still at his thighs. He goes directly to his bag, and as if he knew it was going to happen, he pulls out a condom and slips it on without so much as a sigh of relief.

“Oh,” You let out in a huff, disappointed.

          He raises his eyes to you as he lets his pants fall to his ankles and steps out of them but his face isn’t concerned nor bothered. Honestly, he has to be able to read minds or something.

“No, I don’t do this with all of my clients. I’m a man and I have needs. Needs that require protection sometimes.”

          You only nod, in awe of the fact that he knows what the fuck to always say. And just as quickly as he left from you, he’s back, lifting your dress and attempting to take it off of you.

“Can I see?” He asks, still tugging as he stands in front of you.

          Your pussy is aching, and you can feel the couch beneath you soaked through and probably leaving an embarrassingly large spot for you to cry about later because this fucking couch was expensive, but whatever. So is Jeno.

          Lifting your arms, he slips the dress off of you and instantly presses your breasts together as he stares at them. He doesn’t hesitate this time to snatch your bra off of you either, the second your bare nipples are perked up in front of him he’s got his mouth on one and the other being pinched between his fingers.

“Right here?” He mumbles around your nipple as he savors the quick moment of seeing you in full for probably the first and only time. “You want me to fuck you here?” He mumbles again, realizing that his question wasn’t clear in the first place.

          You don’t even care at this point, but, you’ve been sitting in this position for far too long and, more than anything, you want him to be the one looking up at you again. Just like when he started his second dance, crawling on the floor towards you and looking so small for such a cocky man.

“No.” you say, lacing your fingers into his hair and pushing his lips to your other nipple, just to feel the warmth of his tongue flicking against it.

“No?” He questions, sucking your nipple harshly and allowing it to pop from his lips as he looks at you. “Where, then?”

          You smile at him, finally sitting yourself up fully from the slouched, lazy position you were in. Your legs close as you stand to your feet in front of him, but he still dips his head to get his lips around your nipple again.

          Holding him there, your legs almost buckle at the way he slightly groans around it, sending vibrations through your chest and straight to your clit. You’re gentle when you shuffle forward, allowing him to continue his antics. Slowly but surely, you turn him around and back him up against the couch.

          Only now, when you push him back and his teeth graze against your perked-up nub in a sad release do you realize that he’s… needier than you expected. His brows are furrowed, not even paying attention to the fact that you’ve just shoved him onto the couch so you can straddle him, and it’s cute, actually. He was so intimidating when he came into your house, walking with confidence, dancing with intention, finger fucking you and choking you as if he had a right to do it. But now, looking at him, it felt good.

          As quickly as his brows furrowed in disappointment that your tit was no longer in his mouth, his brows lift right back up in relief when you plant yourself on his lap and grind against his cock.

          It’s the first slippery touch that he’s felt all night, and honestly, he’s been on edge this entire time. You grind against him so beautifully that for the first time, he’s completely speechless.

          “You’re really cute, I don’t think you realize that.” You comment, gliding against his cock and watching his hands reach out to grip your waist. “Really cute.”

          He doesn’t falter at all and instead melts into it. His cheeks are a different shade now as he leans forward to resume his antics from before. All you can do is grip his hair and let him. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt the head of a cock bumping against your clit, and you’ll never forgive yourself for not making more time for this.

          When his teeth begin to graze a bit harsher, and his hands start to push and pull you faster against him, you finally do it.

          Angling yourself perfectly, you slide forward, perk your ass out, and then pull him back by his hair to look at him. Already, the moment he opens his eyes and looks at you, he knows.

          He thrusts his hips up one time and feels the way your pussy grips around his cock with perfect aim. He slides in so fucking easily, so fast, that he’s almost seeing stars at how good it feels. He grunts heavily, feeling your grip on his hair tighten through your own overwhelming experience of being filled up.

          Both of you let out a long and breathy groan at the sensation, you couldn’t help it, you had to grip onto something and it wasn't intentionally his hair but god, he seemed to love it when you dio it. When you finally regain your senses, you pull at it again, tilting his head back so that you can see the expanse of his neck and the way it moves when he swallows hard.

“Move.” You say harshly, feeling the way his cock pulses in place inside of you, and at this point you want him to make good on what he thinks you can do. You can take his cock but can he handle your pussy? It’s looking bleak, but sometimes that’s more fun anyway.

          He whimpers when he squints his eyes at you, unable to fully open them as he loses himself to the feelings of euphoria and the pain of how harshly you’re holding his head back. Jeno didn’t think you could get any sexier, honestly, and as far as he’s concerned, if he moves right now, he’s going to cum. So, he doesn't. Instead, he smirks and lets his eyes close so that he can fall right back into the state of seeing nothing but stars.

          Frustrated, but incredibly turned on by the way you’ve completely lost him, you start to bounce. Each time your ass hits against his thighs, he moans, and each time you grind forward, dragging your clit into his abdomen, he tenses up for you, and it’s like he’s so here but not at the same time.

“Look how pathetic you are right now,” You whisper out, hearing the wet of your pussy echo through the long-forgotten music that’s playing. “You can’t even move.”

          All he does is nod his head at you with a lazy smile as if to insinuate ‘damn fucking right I can’t.’ He’s proud of it, but you’re not going to ignore the fact that his hands are still on your waist, gripping onto you so tightly that you fear he’s going to break his fingers.

“Keep going baby,” He somehow manages to say to you without a moan at all in his voice. “No one has ever fucked me like this,”

          There it is. This entire time he’s been begging to fuck you, at least that’s what you thought. His voice still sounds like honey and his cock feels impressively hard inside of you that you could probably feel him in your stomach if you were to press against it. He wants you to fuck him.

“Yeah?” You boast, feeling the power go to your head as you opt for grinding rather than bouncing. Your hips are erratic as he tenses up for you. You can feel your clit hitting perfectly each time and if you were to keep going, you could cum within seconds.

          You can’t even finish your thought when you look down at him. His eyes are squeezed shut and his mouth is open in a silent moan, you can see that he’s not able to take in a breath at all. You release his hair, watching the way he allows his head to fall against the cushions in what you can only assume is a pure euphoric high.

“Are you cumming right now?” You ask, out of breath.

          When he doesn’t respond and you feel his hips stutter under you despite remaining static since he’s gotten inside of you, you know that now is the time.

          You grind harshly, pressing your clit against him and rutting against his abdomen so that his cock is only slightly fucking into you while you chase your own high, but, alas, his fingers tighten on you.

          His eyes shoot open as the sensitivity hits him quicker than he would have liked, but you don’t stop. The pain is intense from how hard you’re going on top of him, but he can see you reach your high and the image alone lets him push through the sensitivity of his post-orgasm discomfort.

          Jeno seethes out praise to you as your walls squeeze against his softening cock. He studies your face, studies the way you try to close your legs around him despite being forced to stay open, and he thinks he might be a little too fond of the way your hands grip and squeeze his arms for leverage as you shake through the orgasm.

          It hurts, but it kind of hurts more when he knows it’s over. After all, it kind of feels like he’s been in this room for days. Surely, he’s stayed past his allotted time frame, and surely he’s given you something far more valuable than an expensive lap dance.

          When you slump over him, his cock is so fucking sensitive that he almost starts to tear up, but thankfully you were sensitive too it seems. You were gentle when you held the base of his cock, holding the condom in place as you allow him to slip out of you.

          The playlist comes to an abrupt end at just the wrong moment, because it forces Jeno to realize that he hadn’t stayed at all over his paid time frame, and now all he can hear is the way his breath is entirely too uneven to move and go home.

“You okay?” You ask, noting the silence and his struggle to breathe with you on top of him. He’s staring straight up at the ceiling, not blinking, face making no readable expression. “Hey, Jeno?” You ask again, tapping his cheek.

          He shakes himself out of it, eyes slowly moving over to look at you.

“That, um…” He tries to talk, genuinely, he does.

          The change in the atmosphere almost freaks out you, but you try to stay calm. You saw the way he lost himself there, despite it not at all being rough or incredibly kinky. You’re confused as to why he’s acting like this, and maybe you even feel a bit guilty.

          Without another word, you lift yourself onto your weak legs and stumble to find your dress. You throw it on so quickly, and it’s the only time you’ve ever felt the need to cover yourself so fast. Still silent, you head to your purse and grab every single hint of cash you have. Some two thousand or so.

          Just like that, you place the cash into Jeno’s hands as he comes back to himself.

“What’s this?” He asks, looking at the sheer amount of cash in his hand. It was kind of the last thing on his mind.

“Your tip.” You try to say casually, still doing your best to catch your breath. “You can shower too if you want.”

          Jeno nods, hoping to god that you don’t think he fucked you for money just now. No, he showed up for the money. Whatever happened after was because he wanted it, and he still does. Are you truly strictly business like this? You just handed him his rent for the month and then some, but for some reason it amazes him. As if he’s never been handed handsome sums of cash from drunken lonely women.

“Shower with me?” He asks suddenly, trying to lighten to mood from whatever the fuck just crept in through the silence.

          He feels comforted when you smile, nodding to him with a step forward.

~

Did Jeno end up spending the night free of charge? Yes. Did he try to have a serious talk with you in the early hours of the morning, about how this is not genuinely something he does? Absolutely.

Did you believe him? Surprisingly.

After the shower, the mood shifted into something that felt natural. He wasn’t just some stripper you could call over for a down payment of $600, he was Jeno, a man trying to make ends meet in a city too expensive for even you.

Wanted he was, by several women of course. You, on the other hand, feel the need to mend your lonely heart with him. Not to fall in love, nothing like that. If anything, you want to take care of him, and when he grimaced at your joke, calling him your “sugar baby”, he was quick to perk up when he realized you were being serious.

It was your turn to set the rules and, possibly, break them.

“Rule number one, come to me if you’re short on money. No, you don’t have to fuck me for it, but I’m sure you’d probably want to.”

He nodded happily.

“Rule number two, stop fucking your clients. If you need to fuck, come over. Just look pretty for them and come back to me, yeah?”

The way he nodded harder that time was a pleasant surprise.

“Rule number three.”

He gasps in a show of mock shock. “The forbidden rule–” He whispers, sinking further into your blankets with a laugh.

“If–” You pause, thinking hard about if you should even assume. You forego anyway, it’s a forbidden rule for a reason. “If either of us start to like, feel things, we have to actually communicate and see where we want to go from there.”

He nods again, a glint in his eye shining brighter than he realizes. This is the first time he’s slept at a client’s house, the first time a woman has ever gotten him so fucked up. You had him down bad. He thinks he should probably stop calling you a client as well. The short-lived title turning into something he always dreamed of, though he figured it wouldn’t have happened so quickly. Sugar Mommy.