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syluses · 3 months ago

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separation anxiety

⤷ caleb experiences a rut after a long time, and it just so happens that you’re in his path.

cw. 18+ smut, hybrid! caleb, knotting, dubcon if you squint, breeding, obsessive/possessive behavior, perv caleb, fem human! reader, ruts, size difference, also a lil breeding, 3.5k words because i physically struggle to write smut without a preamble, reader is ovulating and it triggers his rut this time for whatever reason

an. saw this trope going around & wanted to try it <33 he’s got that DAWG in him 💪 also i cant decide if hybrid caleb gives german shepherd vibes or samoyed vibes…. that moments post lives rent free in my mind tho idk (>_<)

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔, & 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅! (๑´ `๑)♡

Caleb would say he hates you for the time you’re gone, but it’d be a big fat lie. His love for you, big and bursting in his chest, deepens in the quiet windows where you’re present at work or running errands throughout Linkon before returning home to him.

There’s a permanence of you in his mind and being. He wants it no other way.

His devotion for you doesn’t necessarily drown him- no, you’re always there with a lifering waiting- but it certainly sweeps him up and threatens to.

He gets a bit ahead of himself sometimes, he’s aware of that; energetic, bulging at the seams with vigor; whether it’s an integral part of his personality or just a consequence of his breed, the pound he came from never quite knew. Your Gran never figured that out, either, and for as sweet and trying as she was, she soon realized she couldn’t foster him for long.

Because he was a big boy, hungry for attention and wired to please, well-meaning but oft over involved with personal space— and he brought a loaded package that your Gran just couldn’t sign her name off on, not after a few months, anyway. She tried her best before nudging him into your care, because she sure as hell wasn’t about to give him up to that squalid pound or the streets again- and besides, the mutt liked her granddaughter; all those visits she paid throughout the summer obviously endeared Caleb to her, and quickly.

You admit, it’s a mite difficult to juggle between long days at work, little tasks that drag you from point to point throughout Linkon, and your own personal life on top of caring for a hybrid stowed away in your shoebox apartment— but your grandmother was all but sapped of her energy then, turning to you for aid although she seldom ever did, and you’d always lend a hand where you could.

The mutt- Caleb, is his name (and you call it fondly even as he’s pawing at your thighs for attention or drooling on your collar)- has grown on you considerably in the past half year, anyway.

You won’t let him down or leave him at the curb. He’s yours. The red collar you bought him says as much, printed with your number on a silver plate, and he wears it not because you make him but because he’s proud of it.

He’s a good boy, he is. He always has been and for that you’re thankful.

Except, this week he’s… different.

As of a few days ago, it’s like he’s been testing the waters- and your patience- on just how far he can go before you tell him off or say bad dog. He must find them warm because he’s just been diving deeper as the week progresses.

You don’t know what to do. He’s oddly aggressive. It’s not rare at all for him to follow you all around your apartment, but he’s foregone the very last shred of respect for your personal space and nips when you try to push him away. Not hard enough to actually hurt- the yip you make is more surprised than anything when he pulls you back in and licks at the small red patch- but you look wounded at it.

Because Caleb doesn’t bite— he just doesn’t.

He wraps you up in seemingly endless embraces and breathes your smell in until he’s dizzy, laughing into your neck like a giddy child. He does this every time you try to leave for work and he’s made you late for it.

Maybe it’s just because you’re ovulating and a little hormonal, but it makes you quite sour and the mood stays even when you return in the afternoon. He’s never liked when you’re gone, sure, but he’s always been there to see you off at the door with a pout as you scratch behind his ear- more or less tame about it.

Your patience really frays at the odd uptick in his possessiveness, though. It’s hurtful.

You’ve always treated him less like a pet- a hybrid- and more like a friend, and you feel quite indignant for it when he growls and tells you that he hates the smell of other men on you, hearing none of your excuses that it’s ‘just coworkers’, glaring at you like some brainless extension of him. You feel less like a person and more like an object, a streetlamp in which he emerges from the shadows for just to piss on to show it belongs to him.

He’s touchy. Snippy. Glued to your side at all times. It’s concerning and frustrating and confusing all at once.

By the fifth day mark, on Friday night, you’re tuckered out by it and don’t question where he is when you return home early from a shift and he’s, uncharacteristically, not there to greet you.

A red collar however, laid on the floor, its tag glittering under dim hallways lights, strikes you as both curious and unsettling.

He never takes that off. No- says it’s his way of showing you and the whole world that he belongs to you, and— have you been too impatient with him lately? Brusque? Maybe you’re a little hormonal but it’s no cause to get short with him, even when he’s acting up, and what if he no longer wants you as his owner—

A gasp.

You find him in your bedroom, humping your pillow, yowling as he comes undone- unawares- and the walls spin as you nearly faint.

You drop your purse. “Caleb!” You shriek, and a visible shiver rolls down his spine as he turns around.

“Bad dog!”

✦

You sleep on it.

Well, you wash your sheet and your pillowcases- and then you sleep on it.

Maybe you overreacted. If anything, you should be grateful for what you walked in on because otherwise, he wouldn’t have known how to tell you he’s been going through a bit of a hot phase- the first of his you’ve experienced- and doesn’t know how to control himself.

You blush just thinking about it, shame knocking in your chest as your heart beats heavy. You feel awful for walking in on him for a number of reasons. One of them being he came all over your bed- and his tummy- and you had to clean both up through furious tears as you peeled your covers off the mattress and pointed him off in the direction of the bathroom, telling him to run the faucet and quick.

A pass of guilt, the fear of you being angry with him, made its round across his kicked expression but he held off on arguing.

For the first documented time in the whole week, Caleb appeared mellow- not agitated, restless, or tense- and rather crestfallen, and you noted it only vaguely as you irately turned on the washer.

Now, it’s in the forefront of your brain.

Well, if he’s been going through some kind of rut lately, it only makes sense he’d be all kinds of pent up, and that his release (albeit in an inconvenient way and place) would provide some relief.

It’s closer to noon when you finally exit your bedroom and meet him at the sofa- the same one you’d all but banished him to last night. He prefers to spend his nights with you, either curled up at your side or splaying his full weight over your back- a breed-relative habit, you’re sure. You’ve heard of some other kinds who enjoy a room to themselves or do just fine with the couch, on their lonesome— But not Caleb.

He looks tired but perks up when he hears you patter down the hall, violet eyes lighting when you timidly take a seat.

With a bit of hesitation, he inches closer until you sheepishly wave a hand and he barrels into your arms.

“Ah- Caleb-“

Before you can even apologize for your jumping the gun last night, he beats you to the punch. “M’ sorry. You don’t hate me for it, do you?” He sighs into your collar and you shiver, “I wish you could understand what it feels like- I wouldn’t have done it if it was somethin’ I could control, I hope you realize that.”

You swallow, digesting his words as you belatedly place a hand on his head to pet. He positively melts. “Y-Yeah,” you mumble back. “It’s okay. I actually wanted to say sorry too. I- I didn’t understand what was going on…”

A deep groan looses from his throat, his chest swelling with content as you itch that spot behind the furry ears say upright on his head. They give a few twitches as he leans against you and wraps his muscular arms around your middle, resting his chin by your shoulder.

“It’s my fault, though, not yours. I didn’t know how to tell you- I was worried you’d just end up scared’a me, or…”

His pause instills interest in you. Your fingers smooth back his brown locks, mussed from fitful sleep, and he sighs. “Or what?” You press softly.

You pull him back just enough to get a look at him, his cheekbones almost shiny with a dusting of pink. His thick brows furrow together.

“Or that you’d leave,” he whispers.

Your eyes widen. You lasso your arms around his neck and pull him to you, your head slotting above his shoulder as his fingers quickly move to support the position, one hand perched at your thigh and the other braced at your side.

“Nonsense,” you grumble at his ear, a bit angry at the suggestion. “I’d never leave you.”

Something hard, then, prods at your middle- too fleshy to be something in either of your pockets- and you stiffen at the realization as it comes a beat too late.

Caleb’s voice is breathy at your ear, low, his tail thumping on the cushion. “Yeah?” He murmurs, a pang of heat stirring in your belly at the sound. Suddenly aware, you gently go to push at his broad chest but he stops you with an imploring look- although the desire, brewing in dilated pupils, isn’t lost on you- and musters a pout.

It looks out of place, the wholesome gaze marred by hunger as it reshapes his puppyish look.

“Even when I am no better than a bad dog?”

Your brow quirks, “I didn’t mean it,” you whisper, wide-eyed as his eyes bore into yours. Every micro expression you make is being catalogued and noted with utmost care, his pink tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips as they grow dry.

“It’s okay if you did,” he murmurs back. “I’m just glad I have you around to remind me of my place…” Long, slim fingers reach up and you watch, unseeingly, as they stroke your cheek, his other hand creeping dangerously close to the waistband of your sleep shorts.

He chuckles, but the humor wanes quickly.

“Otherwise, I’d always be misbehaving. Do you even know what you do to me?” His voice is meaningful, torrid, as he draws in and the tip of his nose brushes with yours. You can’t find it in you to move as your thighs- the ones he slithers a singleminded hand in between- begin to roil with unexpected warmth.

You plant a hand to his chest, shying away, “C-Caleb-“

“Don’t worry,” he says sweetly, “M’ not gonna hurt you. I just….” He lets out a sigh, long and perhaps just a bit exaggerated- but it has the intended effect on you. You purse your lips and feel a trace of guilt twist in your heart.

“You drive me crazy. Y-Your smell- I don’t know why this is happening, either. Honestly? I haven’t had a rut in a couple years. But this…”

Caleb lets out a soft noise of pleasure, lending his full weight to you when he breathes you in and shakes.

When he speaks next, his words come out raspy and so low you hardly register them as his breaths grow labored- they’re all you can hear as the living room space shrinks down to just him and the knuckles that dare to dip into your panties.

“This is just too unfair. You won’t leave me hangin’, pretty,… w-will you?” Breathy. With an undeniable streak of need. You can’t miss the lust that usurps the softer parts of him and makes him look less puppyish and cheerful and more wolfish, calculating.

And, well, when he puts it like that, how could you?

✦

He doesn’t fuck you on the couch. He takes you to your bed and fucks you there like a lover would.

He fucks you deep and fast- to his credit, he doesn’t hurt you, staying true to his word, but the possibility of bruises becomes a nearer thing when he folds your legs back and his grasp becomes constricting, plunging in and out of your cunt with rapt focus. Indigo eyes glow with something feral, like you’ve given him no choice but to claim his ownership over you through sloppy kisses and clinking teeth as he pounds into you, driven him into a corner- but his touch turns worshipful when he presses his forehead to yours and moans.

“Ah- y-you feel so good, so tight,” he compliments, words almost slurred. His pupils expand and he looks no different than a drunken, babbling man, his cheeks a rosy red.

His murmurs are wet against your lips as they graze and mush with his, Caleb’s face so close to yours that his lashes tickle your brow as he gawks at you, so entranced by whatever it is he’s seeing to look away.

A fluffy tail sways unevenly behind him and touches your leg on occasion, almost like it’s trying to curl around you, prickling and eager. Every part of him gravitates to you. You’re the ground beneath his feet. Fertile land.

“And you’re all mine, okay? Nobody else’s. I want you to wear my scent- to carry me with you no matter where you go. You have to promise me you will- mmph- That sound good-?

“C-Caleb—“

You groan when he stuffs himself deeper inside and you swear you feel his length throb inside your walls, stretching. The veins running along his shaft carve out a new pathway in you, one special and just for him, as his balls- heavy and fat, with a hell of a lot to give- slap against your ass. Slick oozes out from the squelching seam of you, coating his thick cock but you still struggle to accomodate his size despite the lubrication.

He’s made to make you feel as if you’re losing your mind. You snatch your jaw with your own hand to keep the flurry of high-pitched sounds from spilling out lest they embarrass you, but he shoos it away and cuffs your wrists with a hand splayed over them.

“Nah- I wanna hear you, baby. You can’t keep holdin’ out on me like this... I’m giving you my all right now, so it should be pretty obvious that you can do the same, yeah?”

A mewl punches out from your lungs half a second later and he seems quite contented at that. He sighs, closing his eyes, saying,

“I’ve been good all along. Can’t you play the part, too? I just want you to see how much I really love you,” his confession is by no means considered casual what with the passion in which its conveyed, but you can’t help but feel it’s a little sudden, said a little too quickly, and you wonder if he means what he says or if the rut is responsible for all these novel, amorous feelings in him.

I mean, he’s probably too wrapped up in the moment to even contemplate his own admissions as they all spew out—

“Caleb, too big—“ you gasp, cutting him off, and he lets out a strangled kind of noise when your walls clamp around him.

Holyfuck holyfuck holyfuck do it again, he wants to say, suffocate me, but nothing comes out and he realizes after a long second that his vision has whited completely. He can’t see anything; he’s in a fuzzy, dazzling world with the blinders on and all he can smell and feel is you- your scent, sugar sweet and about as inviting as a barstool pulled out, envelopes him and he can’t breathe. Can’t speak.

He fucks into you with reckless abandon, huffs you in like it’s his final breaths, and then lets it all go without care for anything else. Far as he’s concerned, everything he knows is defined by you. This is a give and take relationship: he actually gives a damn about your opinion of him and takes all you have to offer.

He’s in love, puppyish and clumsy but fuck you lead the way and lead him on.

“Shh, I know,” he rasps out, steaming up your neck like a fogged window pane as he insinuates himself there. Your whole body feels like a furnace, burning up for him as he opens you up and tucks himself inside.

“I know it’s big, but you gotta be ready for-“ he clips his sentence short, thinking better of it.

He wants to warn you of his impending knot- the one that’ll no doubt leave you yelping and writhing away from him- you certainly deserve as much of a foreword to it, but part of him is just so terrified you’ll reject him or deny him the priviledge of shoving it inside you and fuck he can’t have that.

Caleb’s nothing if not loyal. He’s also nothing if not selfish. That’s always been a wriggling bug he’s tried to stomp out but it remains in the baser part of him, only amplified by the intense rut that came right out of the blue.

He wants you singing his name and bonded to him (or as much of a bond the two of you can form), and so that’s what he’ll get.

He’ll apologize later, and you will forgive him. So all’s fine.

“Y-You can take it,” is the simpler thing he settles on, and you let it pass, because between the fat cockhead splitting you apart deliciously and the sweet, somewhat perturbing nothings he gushes at your ear, you’re deaf to most of everything.

But when you come- unexpected and sharp, overwhelming your senses as your hips ruck up and he has to pin you down in place and ride it out with you as you cream around him- the scream you let out rings in your ears and so does his ferocious grunt. It’s loud and you’re so numb as seconds pass that feel like eons; pointed teeth teasing at the squishy chunk of your shoulder, invoking a buried sense of alarm.

And then he’s biting down hard- not just nipping- the pleasure thankfully driving off the pain as he ploughs inside, muffling a string of curses as he picks up his pace. Caleb gets sloppier and sloppier and then he’s burning white-hot inside you and moaning like a pornstar, pelvis juddering as he comes.

“Mmh- f-fuck- Good girl!” he rewards with half a brain, fucked out into perfect oblivion, and for a second you wonder why his voice sounds more meant for comfort than praise- until you expect him to pull out but he doesn’t, something big and round forming at the base of his cock that has his eyes fluttering back as it pops in. He goes boneless on top of you as every limb of yours stiffens and coils around his broad back.

You scream his name. He shivers.

It feels enough to shatter your mind- the pain searing you, but the ghost of pleasure that creeps up along your nervous system makes you go like jelly beneath him, helpless to whatever he’s got planned for you.

“C-Caleb, you-!”

“Yeah, a bad dog, a bad dog,” he stammers, whimpering at your earlobe, “I know, baby, I know. Just- don’t shut me out, okay? I- It’ll be over soon, just- ah- loosen up around it, okay? It’ll feel so much better that way. Just… hold on to me.”

“I-It hurts-!”

“Ngh, shhh…” He trembles out, shifting to sample a broken mewl from your lips, cupping your jaw with all the love in the world and staring at you as if you told the sun to rise this morning. “Be a good girl and take it, mm? Your pussy’s squeezing me so tight, I think she wants it too, but she has to relax a little first, yeah? Mm… I could give you a whole litter of pups. Give your Gran a bunch of cute lil granbabies to drive her crazy.”

You choke on your own spit, the brunet letting out a near delirious chuckle at the idea and your reaction to it before his brow gives a wince, your walls instinctively trying to push his swollen knot out.

“Wha- Caleb, is that even-?”

“I don’t know,” he kisses your forehead tenderly, his tail giving a heavy, excited thump behind him on the bed as you grab the sheets for dear life and they wrinkle, pinched like your conflicted expression.

“But I’ve been dyin’ to try it out for myself.”

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letsbangts · 6 months ago

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answer your phone || jjk

⤷ summary: when the consequences of his actions come calling

⟡ sequel to mutt ⟡

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 12.8k+ (I couldn’t stop 😳)

18+ // mdni

⟶ genre: angst, smut, fluff, friends with benefits au

⟶ content: fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk, jk is on a downward spiral (it's what he deserves), oc is struggling as well, taehyung is the shoulder to lean on everyone deserves

⟶ warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content: kissing/making out, groping, protected sex, nipple play, oral (m. & f. receiving), markings (hickeys & other bruising), a bit of dirty talk & praising, fingering, teasing, multiple orgasms…I think that’s it?

⟶ part: 2/3

↬ a/n: HERE IT IS MUTT PT 2! firstly I want to say thank you for all the love & support i received on pt 1 it truly meant so much to me ♡ OKAY so you all wanted #justiceforoc and to see jk grovel so the tables have definitely turned on him ;). angel xoxo

↬ a/n2: p.s the flashbacks are indicated by the arrows (《,》)

˖⁺. ༶ NOW PLAYING ༶ .⁺˖ answer your phone leon thomas 01:43 ─✮───── 03:07 ⇆ ⊲ II ⊳ ↺ ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

previous part ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ series masterlist ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ masterlist ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ join my taglist

Answer your phone I’ve got to talk to you

Jungkook is sitting on his couch with a girl’s lips all over his neck and her hands all over his body, but his eyes are fixed on his cell phone lying on the coffee table. Instead of focusing on how her tongue is licking at his throat or how her hands grope him through his pants, he can only focus on you.

He stares at the phone that won’t ring, at least not with you on the other end. It has been over a month since you stormed out of his place. At first, he left you alone and didn’t try to reach out because he thought you needed to cool off. Jungkook has dealt with this hot and cold shit with others before; he knows they’ll be back eventually, whether he makes any effort or not. And it’s so much easier not to. But he has been calling you for weeks now with no success.

This past month, Jungkook has been with a handful of women, hoping to feel something, but he hasn’t. Not even with the aid of an empty bottle or a joint— and he’s certainly had plenty of both— nothing makes him feel as good as you do. Whether it’s getting his dick sucked by any of the random women he’s taken into the bathroom of a club or bending one over in the backseat of his car in the parking lot of the tattoo studio, getting on top of someone else to distract him from you hasn’t helped as he thought it would.

He is still trapped in his thoughts, even though the girl with him right now is attractive, with a nice body and a skillful pair of hands. He’s annoyed that her lips don’t send tingles down his body like yours do, that her hands aren’t as soft as yours and that she doesn’t have her fingers running through his hair the way you do.

He misses you.

He pries the girl’s hands off him and pushes her back as he lets out a deep sigh. She looks at him with a confused expression.

Jungkook licks his lips and, without looking at her, says, “I think we’d better stop; you should go.”

The girl attempts a seductive smile as she moves to unbuckle his belt.

“Stop? We haven’t even started anything. Come on, I’ll make you feel good, big boy.”

Jungkook rips her hands off his belt and rubs his hands over his face in frustration.

“Look, I’m just not feeling this, okay?” he says exasperated.

The girl’s face drops, and her whole demeanour changes.

“Are you fucking serious, Jungkook? Not feeling this? Can you not get it up or something? Is your dick really that pathetic?” she snarks, her eyes scanning him up and down.

He gives her a pointed look with his pierced eyebrow raised as he rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek and chuckles bitterly. He shakes his head, sniffs, and sits up straighter.

“Okay, listen here, Emilia—”

“It’s Emily!”

“Whatever the fuck your name is, I don’t care. I tried to be nice about this, but if you want to provoke me, that’s fine. You’re right; I can’t get it up because I can’t even pretend for a goddamn moment that you turn me on, not even in the slightest, so get your ass out of my fucking house,” he sneers through clenched teeth.

Right after Jungkook finished speaking, he felt a sting on his cheek. The response to his words was a sharp slap to his face and, once again, another upset girl storming out of his place, slamming the door behind her.

Jungkook shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. A metallic taste begins to form in his mouth; he must have bitten the inside of his cheek on impact. He rises to his feet and walks to the bathroom. He leans over the sink, gripping the porcelain edge as he spits out blood. Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror and runs a hand over his reddened cheek, marked with a fresh cut from the girl’s ring-clad hand.

He isn’t bothered that the girl is upset because he doesn’t care about her. Jungkook couldn’t care less about whether he was an asshole to Emma; all he cares about is you and how he needs to talk to you.

Answer your phone Give me a minute, please Has your heart turned to stone? Have you no sympathy?

He has texted and called you an embarrassing number of times, waiting with every ring to see if you’d pick up so that he could hear your sweet voice. And he does, but only when he’s met with your voicemail — “Hey, this is Y/N. Sorry, I missed your call. Please leave me a message, and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!”— which is a lie because you never do. Still, he leaves voice messages, hoping you will listen to them and call him back. He hopes that with every call, his persistence will make you curious enough to answer and talk to him, even if only for a minute.

Jungkook turns on the tap and washes his face; the cool water momentarily clears his head. However, once he raises his head and looks at his reflection again, his fringe drips with water, droplets falling onto his shirt. He is overwhelmed by the thought of you all over again.

He knows you can’t be too mad at him because you haven’t blocked him, not his number or on social media. It is how he knows you’re not that hung up on what happened since he sees you posting, whether casually going out for coffee or all dressed up to go party with your friends; regardless, in all of them, you look stunningly beautiful.

It makes him miss you even more and makes him unsure if blocking him might have been better, since Jungkook has seen some guys in your posts and noticed how they sometimes have an arm around you or how you lean in a little bit too close to them for his liking. He wonders if they are just friends; even if they are, he’s sure they want to be more. Have they tried anything with you? Are you dressing up like that for one of those guys? Are you trying to move on with one of them? Is that the reason you’re ignoring him?

The thought alone of you with someone else drives him crazy, but having to see you with some guy who probably doesn’t even know you that well makes him furious. Jungkook knows you better than anyone of those chumps could, yet they get to be around you while he is stuck looking at your angelic face beside some happy idiot through a screen like a loser.

Jungkook bets none of those guys know that you hum while getting ready, don’t know that when you’re in the car while it’s raining you turn off the radio to listen to it fall, don’t know that you can’t sleep wearing pants or socks, don’t know that you hate drinking room temperature water, don’t know that you do this adorable little happy dance when you really like the food you’re eating, and bets they don’t know that the guy who put that tattoo on your hip has fucked you every way under the sun.

Shit. He misses you.

Misses how you would thread your fingers through his hair, scratching softly at his scalp while he had his head in your lap as you both watched TV, misses how you would listen to him complain about a client while you fiddled with his earring but with such attentive eyes that showed you were paying attention, misses how you would scrunch your nose and blush when he made a flirty comment, misses how you would somehow take the pressure of the day off him simply by hugging him.

Why won’t you answer? Why won’t you give him a proper chance to explain himself and apologize? Did all your feelings for him vanish? Has your heart just turned to stone? Don’t you see how hard he’s trying? Don’t you have any sympathy for him?

Upon realizing that his teeth are grinding together and his fists are clenching so tightly that his knuckles have turned white, he pulls himself together, relaxing all his muscles, and heads back to the living room with determination.

Jungkook grabs his phone off the coffee table before sitting on his couch. With his elbows resting on his knees, he goes to his call log filled with your name and presses it, lifting the phone to his ear as he listens to the ringing for the umpteenth time.

I know I fucked this up I know I let you down But I’ve suffered long enough And you’re still not around

He bites his nails while tapping his foot anxiously; he concentrates on what seems like endless ringing. His eyes glance at the clock. You should be home from work by this time, he thinks. When your voice finally comes through—voicemail, of course. Jungkook didn’t honestly expect anything else.

He leans back, tips his head back against the backrest, and shuts his eyes for a second, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of his thoughts, and when he hears the beep of the answering machine, all those thoughts spill out of his mouth.

I know I don’t deserve it But please have some mercy ‘Cause I just might die if you don’t

Y/N POV

You hold your buzzing phone in your hand and watch as the screen dims once it’s finished, only to light up a few seconds later with a notification about a voicemail.

You hit the notification and bring your phone to your ear, you bite your lip when you hear the deep voice of the man you’ve been keeping at bay.

“Hey Y/N, I don’t know if you even listen to my messages anymore or if you ever did, but I’m not going to give up. I’m sorry, I know I fucked up and I know I let you down, but—fuck, Y/N, I miss you so goddamn much. It feels like I’ve been suffering for so long, like there is this knife that’s buried in my chest and keeps twisting the more time you’re not around. I know I don’t deserve it, but please have some mercy and answer me. Fucking shout at me and curse me out. Answer me and don’t say anything— stay silent if you want, but just answer me, please. I need to hear your voice, or see you, something—anything, because this is beginning to feel like a slow, painful death.”

You sigh as you lower the phone from your ear, swallowing the lump in your throat. You’ve never heard Jungkook’s voice so shaky; you’ve never experienced Jungkook being anything but confident.

Jungkook has been persistent in reaching out, and you have told yourself you must be just as persistent in your resolve not to answer. This past month has been devoid of any trace of him, but just because he hurt you doesn’t mean all your feelings for him have vanished. It’s been hard on you; so many times your thumb has hovered over the accept button when he called, but by the time you contemplate it, the call has already gone to voicemail.

Regarding that night, you have calmed down significantly since leaving his place feeling angry and upset. You have thought it over countless times, and although you still don’t condone what he did, you genuinely believe he didn’t act with ill intent. You just expected more from him; he always told you how it was different with you, that you meant more to him than anyone else. Only to then treat you like any other one of his insignificant flings. It made you question if you are so whipped for him that you failed to see he viewed you as a girl easy to fool. But you know Jungkook is more than just that one night; he may have disappointed you, but there have been many times he hasn’t.

You have ignored every attempt he made to communicate with you; yet, you haven’t blocked him on anything—it feels too final. Instead, you have been keeping yourself occupied. When you’re not working, you’ve been going out with friends, reminding yourself of who you were before Jungkook. Of course, you didn’t completely ignore your friends when he came into your life, but he did take up most of your free time.

They knew about him; while they may not have known all the dirty details of your relationship, they did know that you spent a lot of time with him and enjoyed doing so. And if you were happy, so were they. So when you replied in the group chat that you’d be joining them for a night out, they were shocked but didn’t ask any questions. They were excited to have the gang together and didn’t hesitate to ensure you had a good time.

Usually, you’d spend your weekends with Jungkook since you both were off then. You would be tangled in his sheets, a sweaty mess, put in various positions, inducing multiple orgasms. You had forgotten the thrill of being in the middle of a crowded dance floor, sweat rolling down your body from the heat of so many bodies so close together. Throwing back countless shots, you and your friends could barely dance in your heels and tight dresses without stumbling.

You’d also forgotten how much male attention you receive when going out and mingling with new people. Although there are still many creeps around—for whom you had to get your guy friends to come to your rescue—sometimes there would be someone who seemed harmless enough to flirt with, but then you would remember a certain doe-eyed, dimpled-smiled man and would turn them down.

One time, when you had used your friend Taehyung as an escape from an otherwise seemingly good guy, pulling him behind you and wrapping his arms around your dancing figure for protection, he asked you why you didn’t go for it. That was when you opened up and told him the full story about you and Jungkook. Taehyung has been a caring and understanding person for as long as you have known him, and he empathized with you when you explained your feelings and complicated situationship.

Since that night, he has been your confidant, your shoulder to lean on. He has witnessed firsthand how this month has not been easy for you, no matter how much you tried to forget about your fuck buddy/friend. After hearing about the detailed story of the last night you spent with Jungkook, he has been vocal about how you deserve someone who wants to be with only you and that you are more than enough. Yet, he never judges you and understands that you know a different side of Jungkook.

You know the Jungkook who moved all the mugs to the lowest shelf in his cupboard so that you could reach them, the Jungkook who sings loudly in the shower, the Jungkook who, when he first falls asleep, starts twitching with a cute, peaceful smile on his face.

You miss him.

You’ve passed the tattoo studio on your way home, stared at that flashing neon-red sign, and thought how all it would take to see him is for you to step through that door; if you just walked in and talked to him, maybe everything could turn around in your favour. You both could patch things up and be happy. You could be together.

You’ve looked through that window from afar, hoping to catch sight of the pierced, tattoo-covered man, reminiscing about when you were on the other side with him.

✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧

The bell of his studio dings, signalling your entry. At the counter stands the pierced, tattoo-covered man you came for. He looks up from the book with his scheduled appointments, and when his eyes land on you, he flashes you that big, dimpled smile, the corners of his tired eyes crinkling in delight.

“Hey, baby. I wasn’t expecting you. What are you doing here so late?”

He drops his pen onto the book and rounds the counter, meeting you halfway. His lips press against yours in a quick kiss as his hands settle on your waist while yours find their way around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

“I could ask you the same thing. When you texted that you were still here, I thought I would stop by to see you,” you shrug.

Jungkook sighs and gives you a tight-lipped smile, lifting a hand to brush through his hair.

“My last client of the day cancelled on me, so I decided to stay back and work on some designs. I sent the others home, and I guess the time got away from me,” he scratches the back of his neck.

“Mmm, handsome and hard-working, what a catch,” you smile and tiptoe to give his cheek a peck.

“I don’t want to disturb you, though. Should I go?” you continue, rubbing your hands up and down Jungkook’s chest.

Jungkook shakes his head as he removes your hands from his chest.

“No, stay. I could use your presence; it has been a stressful day.”

He walks over to the studio’s entrance, flips the open sign, locks the door, and pulls down the blinds, now closing for the day. Lastly, he switches off the main lights, leaving only the multiple neon lights hanging on the walls in various designs and colours to keep you from the darkness.

He takes one of your hands into his, interlocking your fingers, and leads you through the dimly lit room to behind the counter, and to the desk you’ve seen him work at many times. He rolls out his chair, sits at his desk, looks up at you, and pats his thigh, and you comply with his silent request. You sit, his muscular thighs between your legs. He puts one arm around you, holding your waist to keep you steady, while his other arm rests on your thigh, his chin resting on your shoulder.

Once in his lap, you look at the glance over the wooden surface covered with scattered papers, all filled with his artwork. Some designs are drawn with intricate detail, while others are simple sketches. But they are all equally impressive—sometimes you forget how talented Jungkook is.

“Oh my gosh, Kook! These are amazing!” you gasp, picking up one of the sheets and turning your head to look at him.

He takes the paper from your hands and places it back on the desk. You see the tips of his ears turning red.

“They’re alright,” he shrugs; you notice he seems sullen.

You turn in his hold, your body sideways on his lap, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“What has got you so stressed out?” you ask, pushing back his fringe before moving your hand to fiddle with his earring.

Jungkook closes his eyes at the feel of your touch, exhaling a breath in relief. He leans forward, rests his forehead on your shoulder and hugs you tight.

“I just—that client, that was the fifth cancellation this month. I don’t understand why; we had several consultations, and I listened to all his requests. I showed him so many different design options that I had sketched for him. I don’t know, maybe—maybe I lost my touch or something.”

“Hey, now that’s not true; this stuff is unbelievable, Kook,” you gesture at the multiple illustrations on his desk, “And you have been completely booked up with back-to-back appointments every day, I have never seen you so busy.”

You tug on his hair, and he whines, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and pulling you closer.

“Plus, do you think I would let a guy who’s lost his touch anywhere near my skin with even a drop of ink?” you tease, your lips brushing his ear.

“That was months ago,” he mumbles into your neck, and you feel the coolness of his lip rings against your skin.

“Yeah, and I would still let you be the one to do it.”

Jungkook looks up at you and argues, “Not like I’m going to let anyone touch you besides me.”

You boop his nose with your own, which makes him chuckle.

“I’m serious, Jungkook. You are passionate about your job, and it shows in your artwork. You are such a talented artist, people see your pieces online and come from all different places just to get inked by you. You. Because you are fucking Jeon Jungkook,” you poke at his chest.

“Okay, okay,” he smiles softly as he brings your hand to his lips, kissing it gently, “How do you always know what to say to calm me down?”

Your eyes sparkle at his question, and you smile gently as you hold his cheek, your thumb caressing the soft skin while pressing your forehead to his, “I know you. Everything I said is simply the truth.”

Jungkook’s mouth parts slightly in surprise, but his gaze softens. His cheeks seemed to have flushed as well, but you weren’t sure due to the low lighting in the room.

“Thank you, baby,” he says almost shyly, and you couldn’t believe this was the same man who flirts with you so shamelessly at every chance he gets, nor the same man who has had you screaming in pleasure several times a night.

There are many sides to Jungkook, and you adored all of them.

You wrap your arms around his torso, embracing him tightly, burying your face in his neck, and he hugs your waist just as firmly, kissing your forehead.

You both sit like that for a while, and your breathing becomes in sync as if your bodies had become one.

“I-I’m…I’m glad you came here,” he clears his throat as his arms tighten around your waist, basking in your warmth and comfort.

Jungkook has vented to you about work before, but this time, it feels different. You’ve never seen him like this.

“I’m here anytime you need to talk, Kook,” you reassure.

“Well, that’s good to know…” he said with a nervous smile, “But I meant…I’m glad you came here that day to get your tattoo—that you came into my life.”

Your body freezes momentarily at his words, but soon a fire ignites in your heart and spreads throughout you. You are filled with pride and relief that he feels comfortable and trusts you enough to share his personal feelings so openly.

“I’m glad I did too,” you whisper, “I meant what I said, though, I’m here if you ever need to talk.”

“Okay,” he whispers, “Okay. But on one condition.”

“What?”

He tilts his head to look down at you, and you look at him through your lashes.

“You have to come and hold me like this when I do.”

“Deal,” you giggle.

“Seal it with a kiss,” he says, leaning down slightly.

You lift your head and meet his lips in an emotional kiss, which soon becomes more heated as your tongues mingle.

You move down his body, kneeling between his thighs. Your hands grip his belt, and Jungkook pants lightly, his anticipation and need high. You unbuckle it and unbutton his jeans effortlessly, then quickly pull them down far enough for his bulge to be exposed. As expected, he is already hard for you. The effect you have on him is always intense. You glance up at the heavy-breathing man above you, eyes hooded and bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You shift your focus from his bulge to his t-shirt, gripping it by the hem and pulling it up. When he realizes what you want, he assists you; he sits up a little, grabbing the back of the collar and pulling it over his head with one hand, fully exposing his toned core. Just like that, his shirt is off, and he tosses it to the floor to be found later.

Your hands create goosebumps across his exposed skin as they brush against his lower abdomen when you grab the hem of his boxers and pull them down. His erection springs up and rests against his abdomen, impatient for your touch.

At the sight of his big, veiny dick, you unconsciously drag your tongue along your upper lip. You quickly remove his jeans and boxers, along with your shirt, leaving you in your bra, panties, and skirt.

Your hand wraps around his shaft, and your thumb swipes across his head, smoothing the precum over his length to make it feel better. You stroke him gently a couple of times before leaning down and placing a soft kiss against the tip of his cock. Jungkook hisses at the sensation, and he throws his head back.

You slowly begin to move your hand up and down his cock; you enjoy building him up gradually and prolonging his release. A knowing look flashes across his eyes when he discovers what you are doing. He chuckles, and then you swirl your tongue around his head, causing the smile to fall from his face immediately as his hand grips the sides of the chair.

“D-Don’t tease,” he breathes heavily.

Your lips curve up into a barely noticeable smile at his reaction. You lick him from the base of his length to the top, swirling your tongue around his head once more before slowly pushing him between your lips and going down on him, your tongue pressing against his hardness as you take him in.

His abs clench at the contact, and a moan slips past his lips, “Fuck, yeah.”

You glimpse up at him; his eyes are closed tightly, and sweat is forming on his golden skin, the exact way you like seeing him when you suck him off. The fact that you could affect him like that without even doing very much boosts your confidence.

You start moving back up slowly, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft and squeezing him gently, earning a whimper. You repeat your movements with eagerness.

You love giving him head, hearing his moans of pleasure, and having him fall apart at your touch.

After a few rougher squeezes from your hand, you suck harder and take as much of him as you can into your mouth, using your hand to pump the rest of him that you can’t fit.

“Feel good?” you ask the obvious question.

He whines and raises his hand to your hair, pushing his fingers through the locks and out of your face, “That feels so good,” he rasps.

You hum around his dick; you look up and find him already gazing down at you, his eyes dark with lust—an image you will carry with you to your grave.

You flutter your eyelashes at him and take him even deeper, fully engulfing his dick, his tip hitting the back of your throat each time you bob your head.

Jungkook gulps, and his eyes roll back in his head. You feel his hands tangle in your hair, pulling slightly as his hips thrust up into your mouth on instinct.

You go back to slowly moving your hand up and down his length, and it lasts for a few seconds until his hands are over yours, stopping you. Before you can question him, he takes your head in a tight hold and forces you to move faster, his large hands enveloping your head. He gently pushes down against your head until his entire cock is in your mouth and holds you there, your nose touching his pelvis. Your eyes water, but you power through, breathing deeply through your nose.

The man appears to be in pure bliss. His thighs are shaking, and his eyes are blinking rapidly, trying hard to stay open. His mouth is agape as he releases breathy moans, his chest heaving up and down.

“Your mouth feels so good, baby, fuck,” he growls.

When he is satisfied, he pulls you up off of his cock and removes his hands. You pop back up and let go of his throbbing length, a string of saliva briefly connecting your mouth to his tip. You gasp for air with tears streaming down your face, and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Always such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” he says, lifting your chin and wiping your wet cheeks.

You nod with a sniff, your eyes still glassy.

Jungkook suddenly reaches forward to grab your hips and pulls you onto his lap. You quickly straddle him, your hands pressing against his chest as you grind softly against his dick. His lips crash into yours in a messy kiss; it lasts for a little while before he pulls away and looks straight at you, “You know I love having your mouth around me, baby, but I need to be inside you.”

Then he’s capturing your lips once more, his arms encircling your legs around his waist as he does so. His hands rest under your thighs, effortlessly supporting your weight. You’re so immersed in how seamlessly his lips meld with yours that you don’t notice you both have shifted from the chair until you feel him place you on the desk.

Jungkook glides his hands up your thighs, only to have them wind around your waist, pulling you against him with force. He stands between your legs, with your pussy pressed directly against his member.

You grind your soaked panties against him, causing his lips to detach from yours, letting a groan escape from his lips as he tilts his head back, exposing his neck in the process. You trail small, wet kisses from the side of his face, along his jawline, and down his neck, before stopping at the junction between his neck and collarbone. You suck harshly on his skin, earning yourself a few moans from Jungkook, and you feel his chest vibrate.

Jungkook takes hold of your neck, his hand on your throat and kisses you intensely, attempting to express the longing he has felt for you since the moment you walked into the studio. His tongue swipes against your lower lip, asking for entrance, and you don’t hesitate to let him in. As his tongue dances with yours, you feel his hands tug at your skirt before he pulls it down, pausing to allow you to lift off the desk enough for him to remove it along with your bra, tossing them to join the rest of the clothes on the floor.

The sight of your naked torso distracts him from doing anything else, and his gaze lingers on your breasts before it shifts to your hip, where your tattoo is. Jungkook’s hand instinctively glides over the skin adorned with black ink.

“It’s still my favourite piece I’ve ever done,” Jungkook mutters before he plants kisses along your sternum and then finally on your breasts. Before his lips can explore further, you cup his face and bring it back to yours, and you both smile into the kiss. He gathers you in his arms and moves toward the tattoo chair behind him.

Jungkook carefully lowers you onto the reclined chair, and you watch as he stands at the edge, removing the black jeans already halfway down his legs. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind that you’re watching every movement of his; you bite your lip and smirk, and it seems to turn him on even further, which urges him to discard his pants and join you quickly.

He crawls over you, supporting his weight with the arms on either side of your head. He gives you a quick kiss on the lips before he begins his exploration of your body, using his lips. Open-mouthed kisses are placed along your neck, across the curve of your breasts, and back up to your neck, where he decides to leave his mark by sucking on the skin at the base of your neck. The noises that escape your lips only motivate him to suck even more aggressively, creating even more red marks as he moves down your body.

“Kook, do something,” and as if he had been waiting for those words, Jungkook starts to move lower on your body until he’s hovering over your clothed pussy. You watch as his nose skims over the wet patch on your underwear. His hands smooth over your legs before they settle onto your hips, which he doesn’t leave unmarked as he sucks on the skin above your tattoo. Your hips rise, yet his stronghold stops you from squirming, “Kook, I need you.”

Upon hearing your desperate begging, Jungkook presses a finger to your covered heat, skillfully finding the bundle of nerves that have you writhing beneath his touch. He begins to rub between your legs, with the sole barrier to full contact being the delicate piece of cloth. He keeps teasing you through your panties, relishing the sounds you make as you squirm beneath him. Deciding that you’ve had enough of the torture, Jungkook hooks a finger under the waistband of your panties before pulling them down, revealing your glistening cunt. He locks eyes with you, and you observe from above as he slips a finger inside you, his stare unwavering. As he pumps his finger inside you, your head tilts back, and you let out a string of moans.

“You’re so tight, baby,” Jungkook comments before inserting another finger inside you, gentle kisses along the inside of your thighs as your hands weave into his hair. You’re surprised when you feel him sucking on your clit; the extra stimulation makes you tremble against his thrusting fingers.

“Mmm, and so wet. Your pussy tastes so good, so fucking sweet.”

“Oh my god, K-kook,” your back arches off the bed as he adds in a third finger while keeping his mouth on your sex. He smiles triumphantly upon hearing you repeat his name like a mantra, and sets out to ensure you’re moaning it even more loudly. You bite your bottom lip, trying to suppress your desperate moans, but it’s in vain when Jungkook curls his fingers within you, hitting a specific spot that causes you to clutch his hair tightly and cry out his name shamelessly.

Jungkook relentlessly drives into you, his fingers curled to target the spot that makes you moan his name, while his mouth remains attached to your clit, teeth lightly tugging and grazing the bud before his lips form a tight seal around it. You feel the pressure in your lower stomach intensify with every thrust of Jungkook’s fingers and every flick of his tongue, all leading up to your orgasm.

Jungkook watches as the wave of ecstasy flows through your body, and he swears you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, with the way your face contorts in ecstasy. His fingers are still thrusting inside, helping you ride out your high, but the oversensitivity soon becomes too much, and you have to push him away.

As you catch your breath, you take a moment to notice what a handsome man Jungkook truly is. Complementing his defined biceps and strong thighs were his abs, impeccably shaped, and you observe as the stunning man above you licks the remnants of you from his fingers. The sight has you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him down so that his chest meets yours. Jungkook smirks at your action before he hungrily attacks your lips with his glistening ones, letting you taste yourself as you recover from your climax.

“Take this off,” you mumble against his lips, your foot at his lower back attempting to push his boxers down. He quickly complies with your request, shedding the dark grey boxers before leaning down to his jeans on the floor to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket and get a condom. He rips open the foil with his teeth, being careful not to tear the condom in the process, before rolling it down his length. He hovers over you again, keeping most of his weight off of you with the support of his arms.

Jungkook kisses your navel before trailing upward towards your breasts. His mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking on it, he takes his time sucking one breast while kneading the other one before he switches. Your hands hold onto his biceps, gliding over his skin as he prepares your body for another climax. When he’s satisfied with the marks he’s left on your two mounds, he places one more kiss against your lips before looking into your eyes.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Mhm, Kook. Want you so bad.”

And so Jungkook takes his length and aligns himself at your entrance, the tip of his member almost pushing past your folds. He gives you one last peck on the corner of your mouth before his member sinks into your pussy, making you wince at the stretch of your walls. He pushes himself until he is buried deep within you, causing you to whimper when you feel his full length inside of you. Jungkook groans loudly as he feels himself get embraced by the warmth and tightness of your wet, velvety walls. He reaches for your hands, lifts them to rest on both sides of your head, and interlocks your fingers with his. His forehead meets yours, and both of you share a longing gaze while relishing the moment. Once you’ve adjusted to his size, you move beneath him, and Jungkook takes it as a signal to begin his ravaging.

He pulls back all the way, leaving only his tip inside of you, before pushing himself balls-deep within you once again. You urge him on with your voice, calling for him to go faster and harder, and he complies by thrusting into you at an astonishing speed. With each thrust of his, Jungkook’s name escapes your lips in moans that fill the studio, along with his panting and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

You feel the warmth of his chest leave yours when he sits up, his hands gripping your waist, pressing his fingernails into your skin. The new position allows him to pull you to meet each of his thrusts, hitting at a new angle that makes you cry out his name. When he starts hitting that same spot that tipped you over the edge earlier, you grab his arms and pull him so that he’s on top of you again. His entire weight is on top of you, but you don’t care, not when his thrusts are paired with his lips on your neck.

You moan loudly, which is followed by your pussy convulsing around his cock, and Jungkook knows that you’re close. Your nails scratch against his broad back, leaving a stinging sensation that only adds to his pleasure. You’re sure he’ll have red marks all over his back as if he’s been attacked, but it’s a fair trade because he’s marked you plenty with his lips.

Jungkook feels you clenching around him even tighter than before, and he’s slamming his hips against yours, urging you to reach your climax. When Jungkook feels your nails dig deeper into his back, his hand reaches between your two sweaty bodies and draws circles on your clit, which sends you off into euphoria. Your second orgasm of the night hits you harder than the first, and your body would have trembled if it were not for Jungkook’s body in the way—the body that is still connected to yours and continues thrusting into you. Your swollen walls clench so tightly that Jungkook starts chasing his high. He groans loudly against your neck as he shallowly thrusts into you, helping both of you ride out your orgasms.

Jungkook sighs in relief, unaware how long he’s been holding his breath. Jungkook detaches himself from you, and you gasp lightly, feeling somewhat empty as the warmth leaves with him. He rolls off of you, and the two of you lie close together, side by side, attempting to regain your breath after the intense exchange. You sense his gaze from the corner of your eye, and when you turn to face him, your eyes meet his round, dark brown ones.

“Come here.”

Unsatisfied with just your shoulders touching, Jungkook turns onto his side, and you do the same before shifting closer to each other. His hands rest naturally on your hips as if returning to their rightful place. No words are exchanged between you, but there is no need to because you find yourself lost in the softness of his brown eyes, and he can’t help but mirror the wide grin plastered on your face. His hand moves to your tattoo, and you observe his expression as his fingers hover over the indelible design on your skin. His eyes hold a sparkle that evokes a certain emotion to wash over you.

“So, do you feel better?” you ask, breaking the silence of the afterglow, but he looks confused at your words, and you find the sight adorable. “You were stressed out…”

“Me? Stressed out? Huh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You are the one who’s confused this time, but not for long, because the realization hits you when you see his mischievous smirk. You punch his arm playfully, and he grins almost too widely, his eyes forming crescents. His hands, which were placing feathery touches on your tattoo, are now tickling your sides, and he’s elated at the sound of your joyful laughter before pulling you against his chest.

Jungkook looks around the studio, the neon lights casting shadows on his face, “I feel good; how could I not? This is a first for me though— fucking at work.”

You look up at him with raised brows in surprise, and Jungkook smiles down at you and continues.

“You know, I didn’t think the next time I had you back in my chair would be like this.”

“Oh my gosh,” you blush and hide your face in his chest, a little embarrassed but mostly shy at his remark. He laughs, and you feel it rumble through his chest; his hand lifts to pet down the back of your head.

“You can’t be shy with me after all that. Every time I’m working on a client now, all I will be thinking about is you beneath me in this chair.”

“I can’t imagine what the crew would think if they found out what we did,” you mumble into his chest with a little laugh.

“They would think I’m a sterilizing expert because there will be no evidence of what happened here,” he sits up and gently strokes your ass, and then gives it a pinch, eliciting a gasp from you, “You’re in charge of the desk, you little minx; I’ll do the chair,” he winks at you.

You’re left to blush again, swooning as you both get up to remove any trace of the two of you in the studio.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

You blink away the tears forming in your eyes. Your thumb hovers over Jungkook’s name, you’re considering calling him back, just as you hear a knock at your door.

Answer your phone I’ve got so much to say I’m at my all-time low And it’s just too much to take

Jungkook can raise his hands and admit he didn’t handle that night as well as he could have, but he is truly sorry. He realizes that even if his intention wasn’t to hurt or offend you, what he did wasn’t his best moment. As much as he tells you that you are special to him and that what you two have is different, which is true—his actions didn’t match his words, and you deserve better than that. Jungkook may not be the perfect gentleman, far from it, but he is better than that, especially when it concerns you.

As the hands of the clock tick away and more time passes, he gets up and begins pacing.

If you listened to his message, you would have called by now, right?

Jungkook isn’t used to this—needing someone. Sure, he has desired certain women, and he always got them, but once the lust faded, he never wanted them to stay; he never needed them to stay.

He hasn’t always been like this, and he knows where it all began: the fear of giving his all to someone and then losing them, of handing over his heart to another and having them desecrate it.

Jungkook refused to be like his father; he watched him give his mother everything and love her immensely, only for her to run off without regard for him or Jungkook.

He fears emotionally connecting with someone else will end as he has always seen: being left alone and heartbroken.

Because inevitably, love is never simple, nor is it equal in the sacrifice of pouring oneself into another.

He can’t imagine what could be worse than letting someone in and loving so wholly, only to be left empty because you offered yourself up to someone undeserving.

Jungkook knows how good a man his father is, and if he could get burned and scarred by love, Jungkook knows he doesn’t stand a chance.

And who would willingly walk into a fire?

When people asked him why he didn’t get into a serious relationship, he would say, “I like change. Life is too long to commit to one person and too short not to explore your options.”

But that was before he discovered you. Once you fit into his life so perfectly, he knew he wouldn’t be able to live without you. He knew he had found that one constant in his life.

The constant being: Y/L/N Y/N.

What he shared with you has always been simple, and the effort you both put in has always been equal.

Jungkook never believed he would find that kind of connection, one that flows easily. Now that he has found it, he desires to keep you in his life and wants you to remain a part of him.

He will walk through the flames if you’re on the other side.

Jungkook has never been fond of lingering and preferred moving from one thing to the next, one woman to the next. He didn’t enjoy being too close; he always kept people at a distance, maybe not physically but emotionally. Tattooing has been the only steady thing in his life; he was committed to his craft.

But you broke down his walls, shattered the pattern—you got close. He found the courage to let his guard down. He knows there is nothing to be wary of, no looming feeling that he will be met with disappointment. Everything is easy with you.

His cowardice led him to rule out a love that hadn’t happened yet. Maybe he is a fool, but he can’t live with regret. He’s ready to dive off the deep end. It’s draining to always be on the defence, ready to push people away, and he’s tired. He wants to settle down and commit to you.

Jungkook can be vulnerable around you; he knows you won’t use his weaknesses against him like people have in his past. You don’t even view them as things that make him weak, just what makes him human, because no one can be perfect. However, he would argue that you seem to be pretty damn close.

He feels most comfortable with you; he trusts you and can be himself. There is no pretence with you; Jungkook likes who he is around you.

Jungkook loves you.

In your eyes, he is the guy who comforted you when he saw how nervous you were while getting your first tattoo. The one who keeps an extra hoodie in his car for you because you never dress for the weather. The one who finishes work and picks up takeout for the two of you to eat together. That’s the Jungkook you see, the one you know better than anyone else—the one you have wrapped around your precious finger.

Despite his many shortcomings, you’ve never asked him to be any different from who he is. You never judge him for the life he’s leading and never pressure him to change his ways, no matter how flawed. Yet you still never expect the worst from him.

So now, all he fears is that he has accomplished the one thing he dreaded the most, and has destroyed the link holding the two of you together.

Should he go to your place?

Jungkook hasn’t gone over because he didn’t want to seem overbearing; he wanted to give you your space until you felt ready to talk to him on your terms. Also, if you weren’t answering his calls, you most likely wouldn’t answer your door either.

But he doesn’t want you to think he won’t fight for you. He won’t lose you without a lack of trying. If Jungkook is anything, he is persistent. He has too much to say to you and isn’t about to sit here and take this distance any longer. He’s willing to do whatever it takes.

As he looks out of his window and stares at the hundreds of lights, he feels a new surge of determination; he is rising from this low point he has sunk into, fed up with wallowing in his self-pity.

He turns and strides to his door, yanking it open with vigour. He sprints down the stairs and rushes outside into the chilly night, heading straight for his car.

Jungkook pulls out of his spot and drives the familiar route to your house, accelerating down the road at the maximum speed permitted by law. In his state of urgency, it seems that all he encounters are red lights and stop signs.

His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and he has to hold himself back from stomping too hard on the gas pedal when the light turns green.

Answer your phone I’ve got to get to you God, I hope you’re alone And someone new isn’t next to you

Y/N POV

You gather yourself and halt your wandering thoughts to get up and check who is at your door. You are not expecting anyone, and you told your friends you won’t be going out with them tonight. Your excuse was being too tired from work, but honestly, you were just too sad to pretend you were okay.

Could it be him? He said he wouldn’t give up and had to see you. Do you want it to be him? You would be lying to yourself if you said no.

So it’s a surprise when you open the door and see Taehyung standing there with his hands in his front pockets, teetering back and forth on his heels.

Part of you is disappointed, not because it’s Taehyung but because it’s not Jungkook.

“Tae? I said in the group chat that I’m not going out tonight. Didn’t you see my message?”

He looks you up and down and barges in, walking past you.

“And didn’t you see my message? I said you are going out tonight, and I was coming to pick you up. Why aren’t you ready?”

You were so preoccupied with your phone, listening to Jungkook’s message and reminiscing, that you didn’t notice any other messages. But when you go to your chats, you see his words are true.

He plops down on your couch, stretching his arm out on the back and gives you an expectant look, his eyes wide and his brows raised.

“What?”

“What do you mean, what? Go get ready,” he makes a shooing gesture with his hand and continues.

“The clubs aren’t open all night—well, actually they are…” his brows furrow as he looks off into the distance for a brief moment, then catches himself, “But I don’t have all night, so let’s go!” he demands with a clap of his hands.

“I’m not going out tonight, Tae. I told everyone I’m staying home.”

You lie on the couch next to Taehyung, your back resting against the armrest.

“Didn’t we just go over this?” he points between the two of you, “You are going out; everyone is already at the club. They got a table, and I’m sure Jimin has already downed a shocking amount of shots, so we have to leave soon if we want to catch up.”

Taehyung taps your knee twice and then shoves your legs off the couch, bringing you to a sitting position. You take a deep breath and throw your head back, crossing your arms while closing your eyes.

“I don’t feel like going out. I want to stay home.”

“And do what? Continue to sulk over pretty tattoo boy?”

You open your eyes and turn your head toward him, pouting, “I was not sulking.”

He stares at you with a raised brow, filled with doubt.

Rolling your eyes and letting out a sigh, your arms drop to your sides, “I’m just not in the mood, I’ll only bring down the vibe.”

Taehyung turns his body to face you, a sympathetic expression on his face.

“You’re only making this harder for yourself by just sitting around and thinking about him, Y/N. I understand like him a lot—I do, but a guy like that isn’t worth wasting your life waiting for him.”

You look down at your hands in your lap and chip at your nail polish.

“He’s been leaving me messages. He tells me how sorry he is and that he misses me. He sounds like he’s having a rough time, too. That doesn’t erase what he did, I know. But it was just one mistake. He’s a good man, Tae. I’ve always known he wasn’t perfect, but everyone has faults, right?”

Taehyung holds your hand and squeezes it, leaning down to meet your gaze. His voice is careful when he speaks.

“People like him always know the right thing to say. If he were such a good guy, he wouldn’t have used you the way he did. Yes, everyone has faults, but you can find someone whose faults don’t hurt you. It may have been only one mistake, but if he truly cared about you as he claimed, he would have never treated you that way.”

Tears form in your eyes and your voice cracks, “It’s just—I know him; it sounds pathetic, but he has shown me a side of himself that I know he doesn’t show everyone. The real him. And that’s the Jungkook who has my heart. That’s the Jungkook I love. We’ve experienced so much together, it’s difficult to just move on from him.”

“If you don’t try to move on from him, how can you expect to, babe?”

He’s right; you haven’t tried. Throughout this entire period of your ignoring him, you have consistently kept Jungkook in your thoughts. Every time you went out with friends, every time a guy tried to flirt with you, and every time you held your phone—Jungkook. When you woke up, when you were at work, and when you went to bed—Jungkook. Even when you heard a knock at your door, as Taehyung did earlier, you hoped it was Jungkook.

Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook.

Your mind and heart were devoted to Jungkook. Everything revolved around him.

Your tears overflow, and you finally break. Taehyung wraps his arms around you, and you cry into his shoulder. He holds you until you calm down, and your sobs turn into sniffles.

You lift your head and wipe your cheeks.

“I’m such a mess, I’m so sorry, Tae. You came out to have a good time, and here you are consoling me. I have probably fucked up your fun night out,” you croak out, “I must seem so stupid, all hung up over a guy.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, and you certainly aren’t stupid. I would never think that of you. I know how much of yourself you give to someone important to you. I wish you would give yourself to someone worthy, not someone who takes advantage of you. You are an amazing person, and if Jungkook hasn’t realized how lucky he is to have you, then he’s the stupid one, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Tae. Not just for tonight, but for listening to me go on about Jungkook this past month like a sad, broken record. You stuck by me and have been so caring, always validating my emotions. I swear I’m the one who’s lucky and unworthy of you.”

“Nonsense, you know you can depend on me anytime,” he says, patting your head and smiling affectionately.

You smile back, glance down, and see his shirt stained with your tears.

“I ruined your shirt,” you sniffle, pinching at the fabric.

Taehyung looks down at it and shrugs, “Hey, I prefer your tears to stain my shirt rather than Jimin’s vomit,” he jokes to lighten the mood.

You laugh, and he points at your face, his expression bright.

“Aha! There she is! Happy Y/N, I thought I had lost her!” he exclaims.

He turns his head, looking around, arms stretched out as if speaking to a crowd, “Ladies and gentlemen, no need to fear; I have managed to make Y/N laugh.”

Taehyung once again proves to be the best friend one could have; you can always count on him to cheer you up and gather the pieces of your broken heart without fail.

“Shut up, Tae. I have neighbours,” you giggle, playfully pushing him.

He joins your giggles and returns your playful push, “Well then, go get dressed! If you don’t, I will run up and down the hallway screaming. I came here to take you out and have fun. Sitting at home alone can’t be better than partying with your insanely funny, incredibly handsome best friend. And if that isn’t enough, Seokjin’s dancing is a sure way to lift anyone’s spirit.”

“Okay, fine,” you agree, getting up with a big smile. The image of Seokjin’s dancing already boosts your mood.

Making your way to your bedroom, you yell out, “But if anyone comments on my swollen eyes, you’ll be dealing with them!”

“I’ve got your back, babe. Don’t worry!”

You can always count on Taehyung.

Tell me, tell me now am I too late Is there somebody new taking my place? Is there somebody’s lips on you Where mine used to be, yeah?

Jungkook parks across the street from your building; he sits in his car, pondering whether it’s too late to knock at your door. Are you already asleep? Should he have waited until tomorrow? If you answer and open it to find him standing there, will you shut it in his face?

He knows right now he’s not your favourite person, but he doesn’t believe you would be so cruel as to turn him away at your doorstep.

He rubs his hands down his face and lets out a deep sigh.

How could he let things end up like this?

He ruined something so special, so sacred. Building a relationship so pure and superior doesn’t happen to everyone, and he managed to have it hanging by a thread.

Your relationship can’t just end because of one mistake—a big mistake, yes, but he believes that what you two have is strong enough to overcome this. The two of you have made so many wonderful, meaningful memories.

Jungkook remembers how good things were before this—before he ruined everything.

✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧

Jungkook never imagined he would witness such a breathtaking sight: you bare before him, glazed eyes and slightly parted lips, lovely sounds escaping as he traced wet kisses along the nape of your neck, down your throat, over the curves of your breasts, pausing to swirl his tongue over a sensitive bud, drawing out his name from your throat, the same one now decorated with shades of blue and purple.

“Please, Kook,” you beg, pleading with him for more, and he is more than willing to give it to you, knowing he can hardly deny you anything.

He smiles, kissing his way back up to your lips, positioning his body over yours and aligning his hips so he can slide into your warmth with a soft thrust, the wetness coating the inside of your thighs showing how aroused he has made you.

You clutch at his shoulders with a moan, nails digging in and creating crescent shapes with every thrust he makes. Jungkook fucks you slow and deep, hitting every nerve within you, making you unravel before him in no time at all. His lips move slowly against yours, tongues twirling together as your legs wrap tightly around his body, drawing him closer and deeper into you, his sighs of contentment pouring into your mouth.

Jungkook is sure this is what heaven feels like: his hands on you, hips rocking against your own as you devour the sounds escaping each other’s lips. You encourage one another until he picks up pace, gazing down at your face, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

The coil in your stomach tightens, twists, and is ready to snap. Jungkook is also at his limit, eyes hooded but maintaining eye contact with yours, his forearms supporting his weight on either side of your body.

Overcome with pleasure, the feeling of his skin against your own, united with you in the most intimate way two people can be. The act is sinful, but fully infused with the profound bond you both share. What you and Jungkook have cannot be expressed in words, and he does not think the two of you need to articulate what you both understand.

“Come on, baby, cum for me,” he husks, gently nibbling at your jaw.

One of his hands moves to where your bodies meet, flicking his thumb over your clit repeatedly. Then you come undone, the release so intense that his name echoes off every corner of the small bedroom. He continues throughout your orgasm, prolonging it until the sensation of your walls tightening around him brings him to his climax, spilling inside of you with a groan of your name, lips pressed harshly to yours, putting everything he feels into a single kiss.

He pulls away, carefully removes the condom and ties a knot at its end before disposing of it and falling onto the bed, shifting onto his side to look at you. The moonlight streams through the window, illuminating your skin in a radiant glow. Jungkook trails his fingertips along the surface of your arm, moving down until he reaches your hip, pulling you closer to him as you tuck your head into his chest.

Jungkook spots the numerous red crescents on your body have already begun to take on a darker colour, almost as deep as the black ink he used for your tattoo. Jungkook wishes for nothing more than the colour of the marks to be so deep that it will cover you forever.

He holds you close, his thumb brushing over the familiar tattoo on your hip— the everlasting mark that brought you two together. You found each other that day months ago when you walked into his studio and had him ink his design on you, and ever since then, you have been a part of his life. The ink serves as a reminder of the bond between you and Jungkook, etched onto your skin just as you are to him.

“You should let me give you another one.”

“What do you think I should get?” you whisper against his chest.

“My name, here,” he replies, his inked finger tracing just above the left side of your chest, right over your heart.

You smile as you push him so that he lies on his back; you move to lie on your stomach between his legs, your chin resting on his chest. His hands come to your back, caressing it up and down.

“Hmm, and you’ll get my name here,” you lightly run your pointer finger over his left pec.

Jungkook lifts a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, smiles tenderly, and nods while humming in agreement. His fingers linger, skimming your face as his gaze softens. His eyes are filled with adoration as he looks at you.

Jungkook can feel your heartbeat against his stomach; he wonders if you can feel his own under your touch. Both of your hearts are beating rapidly, which he assumes is due to the physical exertion you both just experienced and not from this impassioned moment you two are having.

He can physically feel how much affection there is between you two. He has never felt that before. It’s moments like this that make Jungkook feel incredibly fortunate to have you in his life.

“Aren’t tattoo artists usually against getting other people’s names tattooed?” you tease with a smirk and a raised brow.

Jungkook shrugs with a smirk, his tongue playing with his lip rings, “I live by my own rules.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head, “Oh, what a rebel you are.”

Jungkook’s hands go to your sides and tickle you with a gentle pinch.

“Kook!” you laugh as you jolt further up his body.

“Kook!” he mocks in a high-pitched voice, imitating you before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close.

You pout and make a soft ‘hmph’ sound so insanely cute that Jungkook can’t resist the smile spreading across his face; he laughs and then kisses your pouty lips and all over your face. You giggle and lightly tug his necklace with your finger, bringing his mouth to yours for a long, sweet kiss. When you break apart, Jungkook gives one final peck above your left breast.

“I was serious, you know,” he murmurs, voice low. He juts his chin lightly to where he last placed his lips.

“Haven’t you marked me enough?” you stretch out your neck and gesture at the hickey-covered skin.

“I wanna mark you every way I can, baby,” he smiles smugly.

One of your hands plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, and the other plays with the hoop in his ear. You avoid eye contact, keeping your eyes focused on the earring.

“Tattoos are forever, Kook,” you say sheepishly.

“You’re telling me,” Jungkook chuckles, tilting his head toward his right arm covered in a sleeve of tattoos. He turns his head to kiss your wrist and then cups your face with both hands, making you look at him, “Hey, you planning on going somewhere and not telling me?”

You shake your head, his big hands still holding it.

“Hmm, I’m a bit worried now; I need to hear you say it,” he squints his eyes, teasing.

“No, I’m not going anywhere,” you grin.

Jungkook mirrors your grin and nods, “Good,” he pulls your face closer and nudges his nose against yours, “Because I’m not either.”

He squishes your cheeks together in his hands, making your lips pucker out.

“It’s not easy to find someone this cute,” he coos, shaking your head.

You pull your head from his grasp and lightly slap his chest. His hands slide down to your ass and give it a firm squeeze, long fingers digging into the smooth flesh.

“Even harder to find someone equally as sexy,” he whispers in your ear, his teeth grazing lightly. His voice is so deep you feel it vibrate through his body against yours.

“Huh, it can’t be too hard, I found you,” you quip, poking his cheek.

Jungkook gives your ass a spank, and you gasp as he flips you both over, with you now under his hovering body.

“Why don’t I show you just how lucky we both are?” his tone dripping with seduction.

The tip of his nose trails down your neck as his lips ghost over your skin, down to the valley of your breasts. He stops to knead the soft mounds, surging forward to swirl his tongue over one of the hardened nubs before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. He hums in satisfaction. He releases it, giving it a gentle bite, and switches to show the other the same attention.

Once pleased, he continues his trail past your stomach and stops at your pulsing heat. He nestles his head between your legs, his hands grip your thighs and spread you wide open, your already slick folds clench around nothing in anticipation.

Jungkook gives your clit a teasing lick before diving in without hesitation. You whimper when his mouth latches onto you, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit, your hands flying into his hair. He groans, his eyes rolling back as he tastes you, his tongue circling your clit and then flicking over it repeatedly before dragging down to press at your entrance. Your hand tightens in his hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole.

“Fuck, Kook,” you whine, grinding harder as your thighs tighten around his head.

He exhales through his nose, eyes crinkling as he smiles into your pussy when you buck your hips against his face. The sequence of sucking, licking, and prodding with his lips and tongue has you both writhing in ecstasy. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against you fill the room. The intimate night of passion continues until the moon gives way to the sun.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

Jungkook is pulled out of his memories when he sees the door of the main entrance to your building open. He watches you step out, and his heart nearly leaps out of his chest upon seeing you.

Your short, tight dress hugs your body in all the right places. Your tall, thin high heels complement your legs phenomenally. Your hair cascades down your figure, making you look like an angel. You look gorgeous.

The sight of you would bring any man to his knees. You must be dressed like that to go out for the night, so he must act now if he doesn’t want his drive here to be for nothing. He moves to get out of his car, but just as his hand touches the handle, he sees a man walk out right behind you, and Jungkook freezes.

Jungkook looks closely at the man’s face; he’s good-looking. He’s sure he recognizes him from your posts. He looks like one of the guys you’ve tagged in your pictures, the ones where he’s had his arm around you. The happy idiot. What was it... Taemin? Taejin? Taewoo?

Whoever he is, he extends his arm for you to link with yours, and you do. You’re about to step down the stairs when you stop and say something to the man. You have an anxious expression, but whatever you say to the man beside you only brings a fond smile to his face. He responds to you and leans down to kiss your cheek.

The cheek that Jungkook’s lips have been on more times than he can count.

And you light up as if he made everything better. You walk down the stairs, arm in arm with the man whom Jungkook worries has taken his place.

Once you step off the last step, you stop once more, unlink your arm, and pull out your phone. The light from the screen shines on your face; you tap your fingers on it for a few seconds before putting it back in your purse. You relink your arms with who Jungkook thinks is the luckiest guy in the world and set off down the street, heading to your destination.

Jungkook feels the wind being knocked out of him. He hadn’t even realized he had gotten out of his car. He stands far enough that you don’t notice him, but close enough to see you perfectly. To see how you were on the phone, the phone that Jungkok knows is full of his messages and calls. To see that you are still ignoring.

Tell me, tell me now, what can I do To make it up to you Won’t you tell me, please? Tell me, please

All the hope and determination Jungkook had when he left his house seemed to have disintegrated. He feels small, much like your figure becomes as you walk further away from him on the arm of another.

Jungkook stares at your back until he loses sight of you as you round the corner. He stands there feeling like he has just been slapped in the face for the second time tonight, but this one stings much more.

What else can he do?

Jungkook doesn’t know how to make it up to you, and at this point, he’s unsure if he’s fighting a losing battle. You seem to be doing just fine without him. It hurts to see you happy when he has been miserable without you.

He needs you to talk to him and to tell him what to do to win you back. Tell him what he has to do for him to hear your laugh, smell your scent, and touch your skin. He needs to have you back in his arms, on his lips—in his life.

He tilts his head back, eyes focused on the moon and how it mocks him, shining brightly while he is filled with darkness.

He stands there, disoriented; all he can do is let out a bitter laugh at the irony that he drove all the way here to watch you walk away from him, now and quite possibly forever.

With a sad smile, he is overwhelmed with questions, out of his mind. Why are you two ending? How can you? How can you two end?

All your memories together overflow out of his perforated heart. He puts his hand over his chest, trying to block them and keep them inside, but they escape through his fingers.

Jungkook had you by his side and took you for granted; now he is watching you be cherished by another man while he stands by like a stranger in the night.

He doesn’t want to be like this, he doesn’t. He hates this, really hates this.

He doesn’t believe it would hurt this much even if his heart stopped.

Answer your phone I’ve got to talk to you I’m out here in the cold Trying to get through to you, oh

Jungkook never envisioned that when he finally loved someone, he would be left alone and heartbroken, not because you decided to run off, not because you were undeserving, but because he pushed you away.

He took too long to walk through the flames and got burned. He dove off the deep end too late into a pool of emptiness and hit the bottom.

Jungkook stands in the street, the cold air biting at his cheeks, but he can’t find the strength to return to his car and drive home. He came here on a mission to talk to you face-to-face. He hopes that if he stands here long enough, you might walk back around that corner and come straight to him. He hopes you will answer his plea and do something to fix him. Hold him in your arms and tell him that everything will be okay and that the two of you will work together to mend what has been broken.

But you don’t, and Jungkook’s heart may be beyond repair at this rate.

Jungkook’s heart hurts so badly that it’s strange that he’s even alive.

He should have followed you, chased you blindly, even if you were trying to run away from him. He should have yelled at the top of his lungs that there’s a hole in his heart that can’t be filled, and he’s dying of pain.

How can he forget you? He doesn’t know how to do that.

Like the tattoo he inked on your hip, you are etched in him— an indelible impression on his heart.

You are the only person he wants, your hands to comfort him, your voice to soothe his heart.

He’ll have to settle for listening to your voice through the phone, even if it’s only your voicemail.

Jungkook digs into his pocket for his phone, unlocks it and with your name already on the screen, presses the call button and waits.

Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone

But he doesn’t have to wait for long.

He’s immediately met with a voice, but not your sweet voice; instead, it’s an answering machine.

And now he has been slapped for the third time tonight, so hard that he stands there in the cold, gripping his phone so tightly that his knuckles might bleed. He releases a shaky breath as his eyes fill with tears and spill over before he knows it.

Jungkook is hit with the reality that you still refuse to talk to him. You have now blocked his number on your phone and blocked him out of your life.

“We are unable to reach the person you are calling at this time. Please try calling back later.”

↬ so how do we feel? hope he suffered enough for your liking. let me know what you think! muah! 💋

taglist: @bangtans-momma @celticcountrygal @annafarrr

2K notes · View notes

kalims · 27 days ago

Text

⭒ㅤwhose (not) random kid

premise. crash landing from the future is apparently your kid, not that you know that anyway... in the form of a mixture between you, and your... supposed counterpart, clues are bound to pile up as to whose child this is.

parts. rosehearts, kingscholar, ashengrotto, al asim, schoenheit, shroud, draconia

cont. gender neutral reader, use of 'mada' which is just 'mama' and 'dada' cut in half for our resident shrimp (aka yuu), octavinelle's shady business deserved it's own tag, 7.0k words

note. hiii again! it took a whole month for this to come out hehe. my honest opinion, the kid here is the cutest I've had to write. I really love em' 🤎 most of the good parts of this fic is near the end where they start interacting with yuu!

azul

ashengrotto did not do things himself–it sounds bad, by extension. like he was incompetent but most of the student body of the school knew better than to assume so, much less say it out loud. associating with him came with consequences, but much larger rewards to sow if you were actually useful for him to keep close.

why should he exert much effort from the body when his mind had already done the work? he rewarded his employees well after all.

his grip was iron. figuratively, and literally. no slip through for an exit, if he let go then it was because he wanted to. he does things when he wants to and watches it all play with a critical eye. he let his actor take point center, relish the spotlight where in the end, he can bask under the light. what was rewards without hardships?

azul does things for you despite himself.

like now, he’s desperately trying to pluck out every thought of you like a needle stuck in hay from his mind because he was not at the local store for you, but for a business opportunity.

like before, when he would inevitably grace you with pointers for advanced lessons for better preparation. muttering something about him not nurturing employees that lack the essence of his dorm–intelligence, and wit.

like after, he’s not so sure if there is one now. who would take back what he said? him? ashengrotto?

everything is so within a script he plays that he tells himself that he let you storm off because he willed it.

“you wouldn’t know what it’s like to be special,” he shouldn’t have regretted the remarks that flew from his mouth as a defense mechanism that wrapped around himself and inevitably pushed you away. azul was special because he made himself to be (and you were special to him in a way that was irrevocably lost to him).

what did you do? how did you do it?

azul did not want to hold onto someone so sought after, he wouldn’t handle it well if you chose another warmth to run into, he only made investments that he was sure he would win.

he watched when you straightened abruptly from his words. like his voice struck you even when he made sure it was a sound that drew joy from you, you don’t look happy. you breezed past him like the wind, not unkindly but something fleeting that he can’t grasp at.

after all, no one can hold onto the wind.

a pair of eyes follow his frisky movements with amusement–since when did the perceptive, at ease azul struggle to focus picking off the most ripe ruby berries? he’d been staring at the fruit for so long that even floyd, whose attention was frayed by other aisles.

jade had only been interested in the mundane task of shopping when he spotted a tray of fungi on sale, his eyes sparkled. so azul compromised to purchase some free of charge if he was diligent in his work afterward. over time the interest faded, it was simply routine until he exited the aisle after a quick skim and found azul in the same spot.

then floyd got interested at whatever jade was standing by and idly observing.

now, they’re both looking at azul.

“he’s still sulking?” floyd scrunched up his nose as azul threw a perfectly decent ruby berry back into the basket, in his opinion anyway why was there a need to spend so much time finding perfect ones? azul was not as interesting to poke at considering he hadn’t blown up at floyd yet.

marine creatures are much more fun when they puff up. he had told his brother who agreed without any insight.

azul can only take much of floyd, and if he’s still keeping to himself by now it must have been serious.

and! more fun to see if pushed too hard. chuckled floyd in his head.

jade does not stray his eyes from azul. “it appears so.” he agreed with a light hum, he took the pack of eggs from floyd’s hands and set it in the basket before the latter got any ideas of breaking it–more so if it was related to throwing them at azul’s head specifically.

“but i would say it is brooding rather than sulking.” he added unhelpfully to azul’s case to which floyd merely shrugged in response.

“you do know i can still hear you both?” azul drawled from the stands. seemingly finding two more ruby berries adequate enough so he discards them at the basket hanging from his inner elbow. when he has forcefully moved his gaze from the fruits to the two, he is given the full extent of the amusement on their faces.

for floyd, lack thereof.

“indeed.” jade flashed him a smile.

floyd continued for him, shifting on his feet with one hand buried beneath his pocket. “that’s why we’re talking, azul.” cause you can hear us.

in response, azul merely crinkled the two of his brows. he briefly pondered to grace them with a response, but what would simply be adding more oil to the flame and he greatly disliked fire. the twins offered a brief respite from the hurricane of thoughts that was you, he supposed he could at least be grateful for that.

even if they clearly didn’t intend so and relished his disdain.

he pushes up the rim of his glasses. “all done?” azul interjected. there were far better thing to use with time rather than spend it all teasing him–or for thinking of good old you that didn’t fit into any equation he drew.

he still snuck you in.

thankfully none of the two had the ability to read minds, as it happens jade might be eerily good at reading but peering into his thoughts was out of his range. if they did, he would simply never hear the end of it, could have left them all alone just so he could have a hint of privacy.

jade nodded, azul hands him the list. “double check in case floyd,” he glared pointedly at said male. “forgets something like last time.”

the last time azul was negligent in checking twice, floyd hadn’t been able to grab a bottle of witch’s essence. mostly because of the presence of you, where floyd had found trailing after you far more interesting than browsing the aisles for what he was supposed to get.

he was supposed to be irritated, he was until he was simply just a bit grateful floyd was near to ward off a persisting customer of the shop who found your ‘less than interesting magic-less capabilities’ apparently interesting enough to poke fun at.

azul didn’t take you with them anymore. due to floyd’s distraction or the possibility you’d be bothered again he isn’t so sure.

of course, he tied off that loose end with jade.

“i don’t get why we couldn’t have done this at sam’s shop.” grumbled floyd, stopping in front of their paths and is then ushered by jade forwards once more. the voice shakes azul from his recollection, that unfortunately was once again related to you–who shall not be named.

jade momentarily eyed azul who stares ahead as if to shake off his piercing stare. “of course, azul would only stop at the best for the prefect.”

the remark burned him. you who shall not be named burned him, and azul sort of liked it. his cheeks flared with warmth and he cleared his throat, fearful that it would come out as a scrawny, weak, affected croak. “this is for our new exclusive offer.” azul retaliated.

“so the birthday bash offer was not for the prefect whose birthday is today?” jade retorted.

the excited it’s shrimpy’s birthday? from floyd was only entertained by his brother who nodded in confirmation. he looks away from azul who made it a point to drill him a stare on the side of his head.

“that makes sense.” floyd said, stopping to lean by the register where the other two transfer their item of goods from the basket to the counter. “everyone else doesn’t deserve anything but nothing except for shrimpy.”

besides the other students that you had ‘beast tamed’ that extended to the twins, jade took you in steadily when you proved to be a fascinating specimen while floyd took more convincing when you pointedly ignored his attempts at intimidation.

now the tweel won’t even leave you alone. azul is only ever grateful a few times for it.

when thought about once, you embedded deeper in the mind. it must be what floyd as doing because he spoke again. “i haven’t seen shrimpy in a looong time,” he pouted, the cashier had rung up half the items at that point. looking sleep deprived, and their chatter was merely background noise.

“it’s only been 7 days.” azul corrected, unwilling to voice the and 2 hours that lingered in response to floyd’s quip.

“you could just say a week.” teased jade. “have you been keeping tabs?”

floyd off-handedly took jade’s phone from his pocket, having forgotten his back at the dorm. the latter does not argue considering it was better to let floyd run amok when the things he desired was innocent.

“i simply like to be informed well.”

ignoring the other two was easy as trein’s class (which was easy because he slept through mot of it). floyd inputted the password of his other and peered as the screen flared to something other than an ominous screen of a forest fungus. he, for one was glad to be free of the sight.

his face does sour into a blach when he finds the last thing jade was on is an online cart full of plants he didn’t bother to remember, and a few he associated with the list of fungi crewel gave them with the book to study for an upcoming test.

floyd isn’t sure if jade was trying out hands on learning or doing something weird with those… things again, like cooking them up and force feeding it to him.

he shuddered.

“about yuu?”

azul glared, floyd spared a glance to quietly laugh at the expression before returning to the device.

way too bright, he sniffed, swiping down to lower the brightness that was obnoxiously raised to the maximum setting and stopped at the myriad of notifications of missed calls.

“you buddy-buddy with oyster?” queried floyd as he found the number seven next to the red ping of a missed call.

jade tilts his head.

“or yellowfin tuna,” he read. “or flounder, or mackerel..”

floyd listed out the names as he scrolled, only pausing when he found the end to be an answered call from you four days ago. azul turns his head after handing off the newly bagged items as they made their way to the exit.

likely, he recognized those to be the species of his employees.

“we are dorm mates.” jade answered, they weren’t friends, colleagues at most but most prominently dorm mates.

floyd held up his phone. “you got like ten million missed calls from everyone at the dorm at this point,” he snorted. “and message from tuna hours ago about the lounge being in chaos.”

“what?” azul sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “i left flounder in charge, he’s capable.”

“clearly not capable enough, did azul make a lapse in judgement?”

“why you–”

“floyd.”

___

the dorm was in fact.

not in chaos?

the three stood befuddled at the surprising serene peace of the lounge. azul in particular crossed his arms and wondered when his employees got off making lies about the state of his lounge. if anything the atmosphere was better simply because everyone on the shift seemed to be in a good mood right now.

oyster passed along a bottle of coral sea refresher to a table of savanaclaw students with a smile which could be the sign of the impending doom of the world because all they knew how to do was brood, and brood, and brood about their state of finance as if azul isn’t their answer to that particular problem.

“did you teleport us to the wrong place?” floyd scratched his head.

“how dare you imply i could make a mistake.” azul snapped, reigning his temper in before he could fully grant floyd the satisfaction of seeing his patience fraying.

“you exerted your magic suddenly without pausing for mistakes.” jade chided. usually a teleportation spell could have moments to spare before the final incantation to polish beforehand to ensure the body is in one piece after the travel. a spontaneous one consumed larger magic due to lack of perfection.

if the reservoirs weren’t enough the spell would simply hurt the body instead.

azul sighed. “what can i do? the lounge cannot run well, or at least i was told.” his face twists into a cold stare of annoyance, eyes skimming the room, likely looking for flounder.

to his displeasure, he does not see them. only the startling smoothness that the lounge operates in at the moment. it was a sight that should have brought him satisfaction–just another variable in his equation to separate from his worries.

instead the sourness that had lingered for days now churned in his gut. no matter how much water he drank to flush it out, it stayed and that was strange because you did not.

floyd shrugged his shoulders. “eh, looks good enough to me. since it’s operating so well, we shouldn’t disturb them.” which was the less subtle form of i don’t want to work. azul could not read jade’s expression as usual, so he was unsure if he agreed with floyd or not.

he stared longer around. looking for a crack in the pristine management to put floyd as a temporary bandage

azul slumped his shoulders. “fine.” he relented, not without a heated glare at the side of floyd’s head.

then the eel was huffing, striding to the back where the dark halls extended to the inner dormitory of octavinelle. intimidating on purpose of course, to ward off just in case any stray, wandering customer came to close.

and of course, if they still looked past that. any octavinelle hungry enough for a fool was welcome to name it their prey.

he glanced sideways. “find flounder. we have much to discuss.” jade nodded, did not pry. a more favorable trait between the two brothers if you asked azul.

azul was just about to turn to the direction of his office, sort out his plans for the following week. ensure his current plans are not falling through, ponder about the state of you or maybe he can pick himself out of his towering, fragile pride that he’d let you tip over if you came back.

maybe.

you likely would not though, once he’s chased off someone they don’t come back. he does not give them a reason to, nothing in him to stay anyway. you had nothing but had something that briefly makes his heart stammer in a way that warms him even in the frigid cold of octavinelle.

he would need several hours to shrug off afterwards, lamenting over the time his thoughts scattered and he scampered around in his mind trying to pick off fragments. azul did not waste time, didn’t make the same mistake twice but still sought you out like a symbolic voice.

he’s never heard you sing, but he wants to hear it more than your stifling silence.

frazzled, azul grasps at the edge of his hat. tilting it down to hide even the slightest of skin over his distraught expression. forget about them! he protested against his mind, now his mind won’t even listen to him lately. stop thinking about them…

“azul,”

“not now jade.” he hissed, eyes shut.

“azul,” again.

“i told you to look for flounder just a second ago.”

“i suppose you don’t want to talk about the child skimming through your contracts?”

“whatever you do is none of my–”

blue eyes snap open to jade, tracing the line of sight.

a cold chill shriveled his spine. he had not fully registered the entirety of jade’s words, the word your contracts is what he zeroed in on with lazer focus as his legs jerked to move towards the bar. where he certainly did not keep his contracts and where a child was certainly skimming through quite a few diligently.

where did they find that? his eyes twitched, eyes unrelenting on the little thing. the better question was, who let it inside of mostro lounge! do any of them know he’s not allowed to bring any in here?

well, no one does.

still! a child? his contracts?

“excuse me,” he halted in front of their tiny frame, their legs barely even meeting the floor and hovering from the stool. if azul had to guess… they required some semblance of assistance to even reach it, begging the question who and why in the world when they are clutching onto his–! “i do believe you should not take what is not yours.”

azul could not help the frown that tugs at his face. he probably looks unfriendly, and frightening to a child now no matter how soft he forced his voice to be. he reaches out and grasps at the edge of the pristine parchment, tugging, smoothly rolling it to tuck into the inside of his coat without another word.

to make up for the sudden motion, he breaks into a smile. “you are not supposed to be here.” he states flatly, half aware of jade’s footsteps coming to a stop beside him.

the eel leans down slightly.

curiously. the child peers up without a sense of startle, just calm observation.

“mister jade.” they murmured.

said male’s brows quirked. “i would have remembered such a… small specimen.” he says, a subtle jab to their knowledge. a nicer way of prying he typically does not spare for problems, after all, it is a kid.

his eyes drift from the child to azul. not to share a look of confusion but to compare the eerie shade of blue that reflected back at him.

in a surprising act of sincerely, the child blinked and glanced at the hand that used to hold his contracts. “I'm sorry, papa.” they murmured, bowing their head in a show of what seems to be genuine atonement. their hand reaches out and clutches onto the coat of his dorm uniform, azul is feeling more surprised to the fact he hadn't recoiled away.

papa? he's not a papa! he blanched, forcing a wobbling smile.

at their point of eye contact only does he notice the striking similarity of his eyes. it reminded him of himself when he was young, that sort of innocence before it was tainted.

gravely. he shook it off.

though they seemed to have mistaken his silence for anger. their lips purse. “don't be mad.”

jade eyed the interaction with a glint of surprise. “you clearly shouldn't have a child in the future if you've made one so upset already.”

azul spares him a heady glare. “be quiet, jade.”

the child frowned lightly at that. “don't be mean to mister jade, papa.”

the eel in question grinned lightly. “that's right, papa. don't be so mean to the kind mister over here.”

azul is tempted to make his stare more harsh, and throw in the good old threat. it always worked for employees out of line, even if it was scarce to work on jade. so he had always pinned the punishment on floyd, who would then pester jade about being dragged about his mess.

that was how to keep jade in line.

halfway into it, he remembers the innocent child in front of him. holding onto him like he was their father. well, they certainly thought so. which was an extremely silly thought. still, azul bites his tongue before he can spew any semblance to ink on land.

once, jade had received the unfortunate end to his ink and wasn't too pleased.

safe to say he had never tried to dent his pot ever again.

azul clicked his tongue but for appearances sake, he manages another practiced smile at the kid. turning his head to hide a grimace as they tugged on his coat. “ahem… dear child, you are not supposed to be here.” he started. he wanted to back track, he did not want to sound like that crow! “how did you get here?”

“how about we inquire about this charming little one's name first?” jade cut smoothly.

the child perked up.

“i’m solon!”

azul's lips twitched–

“I haven't thought about a name yet.”

“don't tell me its another business thing? it's just to differentiate marine life!”

“hmph, I am not always so driven to success. I have time for other things, like pondering, and indulging your silly excuses for passing time like naming these creatures..”

“what would you name that little cutie there then?”

a shy little octopus in the corner? he paused. “a wise one named solon.” proudly said.

–downwards.

he wants to knock on his head this instant. how dare he betray himself again by drifting his thoughts to you? azul cleared his throat and feigned a cough. “is that so?” he croaked.

“and azul is your father, is that why you're here?”

the former shot him a look so incredulous that it was easy to read. you’re kidding. azul’s face read, both a non-verbal message to himself and jade. do i look like a father to you?

jade was almost tempted to give azul a nod out of spite, to see if his expression twist into deeper offense but then again the two had known each other for a while enough to read more clearly than others. they did not use the term friends to describe one another, more of a lasting companionship than anything else.

as long as he continued to be amusing, jade and floyd would stick by him. be occasional thorns on his side but nonetheless still there.

azul opened his mouth to reply before he could get prodded at further.

solon already answered for him with a nod. “yes, my papa.” to which azul’s eyes bulged through the fogging lens of his glasses. jade had never seen him so discombobulated that he could not help an amused, low chuckle under his breath,

always so interesting. he thought with a simpering smile. he’ll stay by for a while it seems. shouldn’t he call floyd to share the laugh?

it was not azul that pushed up the rim of his sliding glasses up the bridge of his nose, but his seeming younger counterpart. “papa’s establishment was failing so i saved it.” they added.

that solves the why is the lounge operating so good. so that means flounder was out of azul’s red zone. for now anyway!

“excuse you?” azul stammered. “mostro lounge is many things, but it is not a failing establishment!”

solon blinked. “oh, it's a mostro lounge? i thought it was an aquarium.”

“azul was always thinking of having something other than a restaurant for business.” jade mused in reply.

azul could not believe the audacity of this child. coincidentally looking the same as him or not… sharing the same name he shared only with you or not… mostro lounge could only be his only real child, something he raised from ground up with his own blood, sweat and tears yet here was this strange child…

he glanced up, watching the lounge around. azul will not deny that if solon really took care of mostro lounge in his absence, and flounder’s apparent incompetence…

his eyes glimmered. a business opportunity! his mind swooned. “would you like to work for me?” azul grinned lightly, voice tinged with sweetness.

again, jade unhelpfully cut in. “you’ll be arrested for child labor.”

oh, right that was a thing.

azul’s smile faded immediately as he sighed. if only chances came to him like this little one on a silver platter everyday, his business would simply be booming. he would even entertain jade’s idea of variety in his line.

it wouldn’t be too bad.

that way the names you bestowed upon those oblivious fish would be put to use.

ah! internally, he slapped himself.

on the other hand. jade was having the highlight of his day. he would say time of his life but that was only ever reserved for the time azul was scampering around to find a suitable gift for you for… well, no reason that he can remember at all.

after all, he had not been given the pleasure of seeing a pink octopus until then.

in hindsight. he noticed azul was quite down under the works, and even that description was too far off to describe the spiral of a mood that azul seemed to be going through. funny for a while but now quite boring. thankfully, this random child that spoke of odd things made azul interesting once more.

that interest transferred over to them in an instant as he surveyed their form. he had never met this one so he was not so sure how they knew of him, or even spoke so politely with respect for that matter. jade is used to seeing being held in high regard out of fear, not such positive emotion.

a grin breaks his lips apart as he spots the dangling shell initially hidden by their little sweater.

once upon a time he spied on azul giving you the exact same thing…

seems like my theory is correct.

wouldn’t it be hilarious to slap azul with that kind of truth?

“azuuuuul!”

the said male immediately groaned.

solon eyes brightened, letting go of azul’s coat instinctively as the latter quickly straightened his uniform. azul sighed deeply, bracing his remaining brain cells to stick together as he turned. “floyd, how many times do i have to tell you that yelling is unbecoming in the–”

he shuts his mouth at the sight of a blank faced you.

floyd, proudly it seemed, shook his arms in your direction as if you were a surprise. a surprise yes, but certainly not a pleasant one–! “tada!” cackled floyd, sliding an arm around your shoulders and tilting to the side. you wordlessly followed. “i got a tilting shrimpy with me!”

“kidnapped.” you corrected. not too pleased with the sight of azul either which only seemed to fuel floyd’s amusement.

oh. is that what it was? floyd was bored and in dire need of a drama to watch?

at first. you did not notice the little kid. neither did floyd considering he only ever paid attention to his area of ‘people’ which happened to be very few right now. so solon slipped from his radar, only paid attention to when he barrelled to your side.

startled. you hold a hand to their head in case they toppled over from the speed and force they ran over to you with.

floyd shamelessly pointed. “an fry shrimplet sticking to the shrimpy!”

all three of you send him incredulous glances.

“mada!” solon exclaimed with bright eyes, briefly glancing at floyd. “and mister floyd!”

the male in question tilts his head, looks at you, looks at solon, looks at azul then back at solon. “the fry talks!” he blinked.

“of course i talk. you’re always weird, mister floyd.” solon replied, not an ounce of intimidation on their chubby little face at floyd hovering until he leaned down to curiously peer at them. he pokes their chubby cheeks with a grin.

“you’re weird.” floyd retorted like it was obvious, another poke to their cheek has his teeth widening. “and round, hey, hey… you kinda look like az–”

“floyd!” azul snapped with rapidly warming cheeks.

when the male frantically waved floyd over–several times until the latter relented and swaggered forwards, you take the chance to adjust your grip on the child. feeling a sort of responsibility to treat youth with care came naturally as you settled one of your hands on the back of their head, letting them nuzzle all they liked on your stomach.

the other smoothed down the curve of their solider. you felt movement against your front, no doubt a delighted quirk of their lips. it brought a light smile of your own despite your initial wariness to be in the same presence as the intruder of your thoughts.

thoughts that came in either harsh hurricanes, memories less than pleasant swirling around in your head like a storm you can only brace yourself from or a gentle breeze, lighter memories that you couldn’t hold onto as they passed.

nor did you want to remember it again.

“hello there,” you greeted politely at the child who tightened their arms in response. when they looked up their lids were blown open, staring upwards at you with what you presume to be marvel. being the object of such a sentiment has you warming, absentmindedly patting their head. “i’m yuu.”

you also miss the look of offense flashing through azul’s face before he schools it into stubborn neutrality.

“i know!” bubbled the increasingly excited child who promptly bit the inside of their cheek lest they overflow. control what you show. solon thought to themselves but that was so incredibly hard when they could only focus on what they feel!

and what they felt was incredible admiration. even if you were unmistakably younger, more expressive due to the passage of time not caressing your soul long enough for you to be a cultivated version of yourself… this was still the same person that made your house a home alongside their father, who took a more prominent role in managing the smooth flow of the home.

you smiled wider, pinching their cheek. you could melt into a puddle with how the adorable fat stretches as you tugged lightly. would it be possible to shake this little one into oblivion out of cuteness? “i’m solon.” newly introduced solon adds, clearing their throat. “but mada, and papa calls me sol.”

mada? your smile doesn’t falter but you do blink slowly. papa?

you sniffed, glancing up the trio who appeared to be watching you with deep fascination. jade, more so, floyd, less so. azul… was staring pointedly at solon.

“is there a teen father at night raven or did you kidnap some child?” you snorted, tone laced with skepticism.

jade in particular side eyed azul and you followed his sight and could not help your train of thought as you peered back at solon, noting their similar features. huh.

“not at all.” the eel replied smoothly. “azul was just about to recruit a new hire though.”

you blanched. “that’s illegal!” or at least in your world it was… hopefully in this world it is? azul in question immediately straightened up at the feel of your disappointment rolling in waves and he could not help but sputter in defense of his already shattered reputation by you.

“i knew that!” he cried. too aggressive in the manner he shoves his glasses up the bridge of his nose to actually know that. “why wouldn’t i?”

“probably only seeing madol rather than the law.”

floyd snickers from his side–having grown bored of remaining idle, and instead striding towards you. he grasps at solon’s arm, about to pull them up and you frantically correct his manner of holding a child before letting him lift them up.

he holds him up under his arms and tilting his head. “you’re even smaller than shrimpy.”

floyd ignores you boldly smacking his side when he feigns dropping solon, who surprisingly does not even yelp in surprise. only blinking when they were temporarily suspended in air, and caught again. this time closer to your side as you tugged on floyd’s arm with a simmering glare.

“that’s a child, floyd!”

“eh? i just see a sticky fry.”

“you need to handle solon with more care. they’re not like me who you can throw around for a bit, i won’t stand for it.”

“shrimpy survived all the rough stuff and now, look. you’re tougher than all those other kids.”

the heat of your stare heightened until floyd pouted and deposited solon to your side. you shuffled several steps backwards. “that’s not how it works.” you pinched the bridge of your nose, refusing to open your eyes when floyd barked out an sure it is!

you also ignore floyd now attempting to rile you up once more–looking for entertainment, which is apparently you brawling with him.

“how did you even end up here?” you sighed defeatedly. at least you weren’t roped into reconciling with azul, which was what you initially thought when floyd popped out from the octavinelle’s mirror in the chamber. he had spotted you chatting with your heartslabyul companions and when they departed back to the space of their dorms he pounced on you.

no polite requests of letting you go loosened his grip as he hauled you to the lounge.

now you were, not talking to azul but instead holding a smaller version of him it seemed. well, good thing this one was cuter than that idiot.

you were spiralling back to azul and your face must have darkened because solon had paused to eye your microexpressions carefully. the squinting of your eyes, the displeased curl of your lips that only pulled down further the more you unconsciously glanced at azul…

he muttered something under his breath.

again, you sighed. “sorry–what was that?”

strangely enough, floyd stopped speaking.

… so did jade who joined floyd to pester solon with endless questions. do you only stick to shrimps? what do you do for your past time? why are you an algae? would you inform authorities if we took you under our wing?

you didn’t even want to question the last part.

when you look up floyd’s mouth was open in an intermittent yawn–one of his eyes was shut and there was moisture gathered on the corners. he was still staring quite interestedly at solon while jade seemed to just… stand still as a statue.

neither of them blinked.

feeling just like the day you found out magic was apparently real and people here could just levitate a remote back to them across a room, you snapped your gaze around. even the customers remained unmoving. you spotted a group of savanaclaw, one pointedly having hurled a glass towards a half dead server of octavinelle who had their back turned.

you contemplate walking over to save that guy from a possible injury before identifying said student to be one of your previous perpetrators–getting your stuff (especially when it was from professor crewel. back then you went to classes without much simply because you were too shameful to ask once more for a replacement) dumped in the fountain was indeed no fun.

goodluck with that. you mused in your head. call it your petty way of payback.

you glanced around for moments longer, lingering on kalim’s midst at some table.

“what in the world…”

apparently azul could move, like you. you’re not sure why and even dreading your predicament. in what world would time freeze and the only one unaffected is you, oh, yeah. your enemy that you self proclaimed in your head? twisted wonderland apparently…

besides your increasingly disgruntled face that you no longer try to mask in the presence of others considering azul is only ever the one you’d show such blatant dislike to now, he looks positively floored. while the turn of his head is slow as he stared around, his eyes are wide through his rims.

the arms encircled around your waist slid off, bringing your attention to solon who frowns lightly. their previous look of sparkling warmth was still present in their eyes, simply dwindled to highlight their look of seriousness. they crossed their arms.

“you’re my before mada,” solon pointed at you, then to azul. “you’re my before papa so now you have to go back to being lovey so i can go back to my mada and papa.”

both of your jaws drop.

“what?!”

“wait a second–this is going too fast.” you blurted, feeling a bit flustered. who would drop a big bomb like that so suddenly? this kid was saying you and azul have a kid in the far time ahead!

didn’t that mean you chose to stay here? or perhaps you never really did find a way back…

implications aside, it was certainly… an experience to hear it being said so outright. azul seems to think the same due to him gasping out an: “y-you mean…” he gaped, eyes darting to you and solon with reddening ears. “they’re my… we… have a…?”

gosh he was going to faint.

it was at least a pleasure to witness the eloquent azul struggling to conjure a coherent sentence. the more he glanced at you the more prominent his change of color was. it didn’t help that his attire helped it contrast from his complexion.

solon giggled, momentarily dropping their face of seriousness. “you said i’m the product of your love.”

azul squawked. “i said that?!” but, that was just so… embarrassing to say! why would his future self say that?!

you frowned. “is this a joke?” you asked seriously only deadpanning when solon nods.

“please make up,” they said sincerely. sensing both of your skeptism, they reached under the collar of their shirt pulling out a shell necklace that eerily seemed similar to–

your hand instinctively flew over your collarbone. panic giving way to unwanted relief. azul watched the motion.

he thought you threw it away since he did not see it.

“i want to go home.”

you simpered bitterly. you did too.

“mada please forgive my weird papa.” solon beamed, ignoring azul’s look of offense.

“if you do you’ll go home too.”

your throat twisted.

“you said me and papa is your home.”

before solon can spot the look of frozen shock from your face, they whirled around, smacking azul on the leg. the latter winces but didn’t look as reluctant as before. he’s even staring at you in the eye with something unreadable and heavy in his.

azul seemed to be weighing his pride the size of a mountain and the depth of his feelings for you that could probably only be measured by the neverending sea. it wasn’t infinite like some cheesy someone would proclaim, but it was calm at some parts, rough at the other but certainly deep.

something he can’t pinpoint a how but he knows.

he sighed deeply. “i apologize.” he said finally, voice low like he only wanted it to flow between the space of the three of you despite the time frozen. azul felt like that was how he spoke to his business transaction partners so he rephrased himself, there was a lot of them and only one of you. “i’m sorry.”

you squinted.

“my mind was clouded before.” he pursed his lips. “i… don’t want you to be special. that only meant you would be something others would be reaching for, i don’t want that. i’m selfish. you’re so special in a way that i can never take ahold of and keep to myself. i dislike it.”

“you’re terrible at communicating.” you pointed out gruffly. albeit less hostile than before, more inclined to hear him out. was being terrible with emotions an admission requirement here? is the concept of affection illegal?

azul chuckled at that. he did not smile–tried to but it fell. “with you it seems so.”

“yeah.”

“i don’t know how to atone.” he admitted and you only furrowed your brows.

“being mean to me isn’t a sin but it sure was unfair.”

you only heard a quiet agreement from him and pointed accusingly. “you’re going to listen to my demands until i say so, okay?”

iffed but carrying a plank to bridge the distance between two mountains, azul nods. “we should discuss it over a contract. i won’t change any terms.”

which was his sad version of an apology. you’ve come to learn that individuals here deviated from the normal and morally right way of doing things. the most you could do was to recognize that this was this world’s version of grovelling on the knees.

you only focused your attention on the brightening solon–literally bright like he was about to get sent to heaven or something. he was only smiling lighty, no teeth. something you’d see on azul’s face but solon did well in expressing something so little sincerely. his expression was brighter than the light he was encased in.

“you’re going home?” you sniffed, aware of azul quietly shuffling to the side where you were in your peripheral vision as if his small steps weren’t noticeable. you didn’t comment on it.

solon nodded enthusiastically. “mhm. thank you.”

they did not bother with a goodbye, it wasn’t a goodbye. they’d see you soon.

“bye, sol.”

you elbowed azul who had somehow managed to awkwardly stand by your left in the span of a few seconds.

he coughed, side eyeing you. “farewell, sol. keep that necklace safe. it is very precious.”

the child laughed. “don’t worry. papa has all the stuff he gave to mada in a box under your bed.”

azul’s eye twitched. “off you go.” it was more of to finally drag you off somewhere himself and a little bit of not letting any of his future secrets be jeopardized.

when the last proof of solon’s existence fades before your eyes, the world starts again.

“-our wing–?” jade finished, frowning when the spot where solon used to be, in front of you, was replaced by nothing.

he blinked. directing his gaze to azul, noticeably lighter who seemed to be quietly exchanging words with you.

“the heck?” guffawed floyd, rearing his head to squint at the two of you. “when did they make up!”

“go back to work.” azul snapped, grasping at your wrist and dragging you off to the direction of the back.

“are you two getting started on solon already?”

“jade!”

trivia

if you guessed, the time stop was solon’s unique magic: “a chilling stop” very boring name, i know. i kind of just spew the children’s UM names off the top of my head! like you have observed it is simply pausing time within a decimated space for a period of time. in this case, solon only paused time inside the lounge. everything outside remained in motion. the larger the range, the harder it is to keep up.

solon is written to be a ten year old cutie pie male! the necklace he was wearing is what past azul gave to past yuu, and future yuu will eventually give it to solon (yes, azul actually does have a box of trinkets he collected. some things from you, the other reminds him of you. it accumulated over the years and he couldn’t stop)

like the other kids who had specified conditions to return, in solon’s time, future yuu and future azul was in a fight, and he coincidentally (or intentionally?) got warped to a time where past yuu and past azul was also in a fight. their conditions to return home was to reconcile their before parents.

when they came back future parents also made up <3 (idk i am just yapping at this point)

yeah. azul was out here trying to recruit a kid just because they ended up doing pretty well with managing the lounge lol.

i accidentally deviated from my outline lol! originally azul was supposed to start interrogating the employees currently on shift as to why they’re letting a kid run the lounge. it was chaos before and solon made it run smoothly so they kind of just accepted it. better than azul coming back to chaos, right?

floyd’s nickname for solon “fry shrimplet” deviates from the babies of shrimps.

as you can see i didn’t see that particular line and i was writing the ending when i saw it!

the names of the employees are not their actual names lol but rather their species, just like what i did for leona’s part with the side characters.

🔖: @lostsomewhereinthegarden @staplertwst @rinis-reality @rhyzoma @iamprodigious @irzali-imagines @glitterandgoldfinds @luna-looniesblog @wokasiv @readrecieptoff @miyaswmire @dakissomewhere @yourfavouritecitizen @rei-vii @colombia-chan @ceramic-raven @leitor-sonolento @night-shadowblood-writes2 @ms-shroud @bju3c0re @usernamesarehardtomake @wonderlandcrown @los3rtown | @squishychongyun @brights-place @mochiclouds @sol3chu @runu-chan @random-fandoms7 @minkyungseokie

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jayparked · 3 months ago

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miscommunication - jay's version

PAIRING: best friend jay x female reader WORD COUNT: 3.9k GENRE: crack, smut ; mdni AU: best friends to lovers(finally) WARNINGS: punishment and pain kink, spanking, fingering, rough sex, begging, bondage, brat/brat tamer dynamics, edging, dacryphilia, dirty talk, pet names, strong language SNAIL TRAIL: here are jay's texts AND his written part! thank you to @sungbeams for looking over this last minute and thank you to all my tickets in the jayparked's garage discord server💛 to get updates and previews on my work before they get posted, join here(18+)

♡ ot7 texts part one ; part two ; part three ; part four ; part five ; part six ; part seven; part eight ♡ ♡heeseung ; jay ; jake ; sunghoon ; sunoo ; jungwon ; riki♡

It all happened so fast.

One moment you were boldly texting your best friend something you never thought you’d have the courage to say. Thoughts and feelings you’ve been harboring for years finally spilling out, unable to keep any and all doubts about potentially ruining the greatest friendship you’ve ever had at bay. Harboring these feelings for so many years was driving you crazy and you just couldn’t help but test the waters a little bit to see if maybe, just maybe, there was a possibility that he could feel the same way about you.

And now? Said best friend has you bent over his lap, his strong hand massaging and rubbing the swell of your bare ass cheeks before smacking his palm against it.

Another strong smack with his fingers spread apart has you whimpering louder than before, squirming on his lap while your pussy drips with neglected attention. “Jay…need you to touch me.”

“I don’t think you’re in any sort of position to be making demands,” he says coldly with another harsh hit. Your body lurches forward, eyes stinging with tears, but it’s the way Jay gently rubs at the flesh he just hit that has your heart fluttering in your chest. “You thought it was funny to play with my emotions? Hmm? Think you can just get away with whatever you want to me without any consequences?”

As soon as you open your mouth to answer him he lands another harsh hit to your ass, instantly squeezing your flesh so hard you can feel his nails breaking your skin. A loud gasp forces its way from your mouth along with an embarrassing droplet of drool. Your thighs are shaking, ass stinging from the repeated contact from Jay’s palms and the tears are finally starting to streak down your cheeks. Even still, your clit is pulsating, desperately awaiting some form of contact.

“I’m sorry!” You finally give in. “Just…Jay please. I need something.”

“Something,” he mocks with a low chuckle, still massaging your bruised flesh, “You were so careless with your words before, why so shy now?”

Brain whirling in a desperate attempt to find some sort of comprehensible words, you glance over your shoulder to Jay’s lap. His black jeans are strained by his hard cock, a prominent tent beautifully on display right before your eyes. You always thought that actions spoke louder than words. So, you do the only sensible thing that comes to mind and pivot your body slightly and put both hands on his belt.

“What do you think you’re-” Jay groans, cutting himself off when he feels your hands bump against his erection. You’re failing miserably to even get the leather out from his pant loops, let alone even begin to try to undo the stiff button and zipper. Huffing in frustration, you’re about to make some progress when Jay’s fingers curl around your wrist, stopping you completely.

You gulp loudly, braving a quick look up at him only to find his cold gaze already upon you. His jaw is stiff, the muscles flexing with each exhale he lets out through his flared nostrils.

Jay exhales deeper, biting his tongue between the side of his teeth before speaking. “What do you think you’re doing?” Through gritted teeth the words send chills down your spine. For a moment, you brace yourself for another brutal spanking montage, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Jay patiently awaits your answer, his grip on your wrist only tightening.

“I-...I just-” you stammer pathetically. Jay raises an eyebrow at you and continues to wait. “I need you.”

Even though his dark eyes are narrowing, you see something shift, something so subtle you think you might be making it up – then his free hand is cupping the side of your cheek, gently moving along your cheekbone with his thumb, and it’s undeniably there: endearment.

All too quickly, the moment is gone.

Jay releases your wrist to undo his belt himself, fully removing it from the waist of his jeans. You excitedly lick your lips, watching and waiting for him to free himself so you can finally get a look at what he’s been hiding. But instead of tossing the belt and moving forward, Jay folds the belt in half, giving his palm a testing slap. It isn’t until his devilish smirk appears that you realize what he’s about to do.

“Jay! No! I’m sorry! I-”

Smack!

Warm pain blooms against your ass where the belt landed perfectly across both cheeks. Sharply inhaling, you try your best to keep your body calm, but your thighs are already shaking again, fresh tears threatening to spill as the sting continues to get worse. You’re about to speak, to make another attempt to protest against this harsh treament, but Jay is cruel and times his next hit perfectly. All that comes out of your mouth is a haggard sob, yet you can’t help the way your eyes roll back slightly, your clit still throbbing while you clench around nothing. It’s becoming too much. If you don’t feel any sort of contact soon you might just pass out.

“You’re such a brat,” he growls, leaning down to bite on your right ass cheek while he gropes the other. You cry out again, wondering if you’ll even be able to sit properly after this. Jay moans as you squirm, loving the way you’re whining and knowing you’re feeling so overstimulated and neglected at the same time.

Suddenly, Jay’s moving you off his lap and onto your back at the head of his bed. Body looming over yours, Jay grabs both of your wrists and thrusts them above your head, his face now inches from yours. Chest still moving rapidly with each haggard breath, Jay looks down at you with that focused stare of his, licking his lips slowly. “Hmm…I have an idea.” The belt comes back into your line of sight and for a moment, you’re slightly scared that he might use it on your clit or chest. You wonder what it would feel like, but also shiver with the thought of the continued torture.

Instead, Jay loops the belt strategically around your wrists and the headboard, completely trapping you in place.

“What?” You tug at your restraints, barely getting any slack.

“Since you can’t keep your hands to yourself and you love playing games, I figured this would be a good punishment for you.” Jay’s hands roam about your naked body freely now, savoring every bump and every curve of you. Wiggling your hips, you try to get free, but he has you fully trapped with both his legs on either side of yours.

“But I want to touch you!” You growl out in frustration, bucking your hips up again and forcing Jay to grab you by your hips to keep you steady.

“Who knew you’d be like this? God…” Jay’s hands begin to roam again now that you’ve calmed down slightly, still huffing at him nonetheless. “Has no one properly put you in your place before?” He laughs at your scowl, “I take that as a no…well it’s an honor to be the one to do it. Act like a brat, get punished like a brat. It’s that simple. Next time you can learn how to communicate like a big girl and just tell me you want me like a normal person instead of purposefully trying to get me riled up so I’ll make the first move.” He flicks a finger playfully against your perked nipple, chuckling again when you wince.

Settling between your legs, Jay places both palms on your angled knees, rubbing them absentmindedly while pushing your legs apart – putting you on display. Just one look at your glistening folds has his head falling back with a groan, “Oh my god, look at you…damn.” Taking two of his fingers, Jay swipes them against your arousal. A long string connects from his fingers to your core, the sight completely lewd and has you shivering. Jay only groans again, moving his fingers up to his mouth before taking a deep inhale, eyes fluttering shut. Then, he opens his eyes and holds eye contact with you before slowly inserting his digits into his mouth, moaning as the sweet taste of you hits his tongue.

“Jay,” you whimper softly, “you’re making me go crazy.”

He scoffs out a laugh, licking his lips generously now that his fingers are back to your knees. Resuming his soft massages, Jay looks at you with dark clouded eyes. “I’m making you crazy? You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me these past few weeks.” He chuckles again, shaking his head before leaning closer, his face now inches from yours, “You’re going crazy? I’ve been going insane.”

A choked moan forces its way out of your throat because at the exact time he says ‘insane’ he ruts his clothed cock right over your core; the pressure sends an electric shock of pleasure throughout your body, finally feeling contact on your bundle of nerves after being neglected for so long. You desperately want to reach out and cling to his biceps, to dig your fingernails into his skin and finally tear those clothes off of him, but his belt still digs into your wrists. After a moment, you realize something that has you biting down on your bottom lip to suppress your smirk: your fists have been clenched this whole time.

While Jay is distracted with rutting himself against you, you manage to slip your hands out of your restraints. Before Jay can even notice, your hands are pushing against his chest, knocking him onto his back with your legs now straddling on either side of his hips. You can’t stop the smirk from growing on your face, knowing it’ll only agitate Jay more.

You watch as his confused expression turns aghast. Jay lets out a warning chuckle, closely resembling a scoff as he’s shaking his head back and forth in disbelief. Misleadingly gentle, his hands come up to grab your hips, thumbs tracing over your curves. He takes a moment, eyes roaming unabashedly over your bare body. Adoration is clear in his gaze, but there’s a dark mix of something more, something hungry hiding behind his deep brown eyes.

It feels like you can finally relax, letting your hands roam over his toned chest without worrying about keeping him in place.

But as soon as you lower your hips and attempt to grind on him, something shifts.

The grip Jay has on your hips tightens and soon enough, you’re laying on your back gasping for breath while he stares down at you. It’s his turn to smirk, proud at how easily he tricked you into thinking you had any sort of control.

“Cute,” he murmurs, dipping his head low to kiss along your jawline, “but not gonna happen.”

With a quick nip at your neck, Jay sits back and rolls you onto your stomach. Your heart is beating so loudly in your ears that you miss his instructions, resulting in another harsh smack against your ass.

“There’s no way a few spankings has you this out of it,” Jay murmurs, “I said put your hands behind your back.” When you don’t immediately do as you're told, Jay grunts and moves your hands to your back on his own. A cold, thick material presses around your wrists that you can only assume is the belt again.

“Maybe this will teach you to keep your hands to yourself,” he grumbles, cinching the belt so tight around your wrists that you let out a muffled whimper.

Satisfied with his work, Jay leans back, his hands wandering over the expanse of your back down to the swell of your bruised ass before traveling back up again. It’s a simple touch, almost like a massage, yet the action has your breathing quickening, heart racing, and limbs restless as he, yet again, pushes your senses to their limit. Feeling his hands on your bare skin everywhere except where you need him most is torturous, your mind buzzing with the urge to throw a fit until you finally get what you want.

But that’s exactly what he’s hoping for.

You close your eyes and inhale slowly through your nose, exhaling only when you start to feel dizzy. Trying to keep your composure in this situation is one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do, but your pride is on the line, knowing that if you beg for Jay too eagerly you’ll never hear the end of it.

Lucky for you, Jay isn’t feeling very patient anymore.

Excitement bubbles too quickly in your chest when you hear the sound of his zipper. Craning your neck to try to get a look at him, you’re met with Jay’s growing smirk, hands now moving slower knowing you’re watching him. A low whimper escapes your lips, Jay’s eyes softening with weak fondness.

“Just be patient. I’m not trying to rush this,” Jay murmurs, his smile soft and genuine. It makes your heart flutter, seeing him like this especially after he just spent so long punishing you for teasing him for so long.

Finally, finally, you feel two of his fingers sliding between your folds. An embarrassingly loud moan leaves your lips, making you bite down on your lip hard to try to control yourself. But Jay just chuckles behind you, loving the way your body twitches from no longer being ignored. He sighs longingly, collecting your slick slowly between his fingers, teasing around your clit as he does so. All you can do is keep whimpering, still holding onto what little sanity you have left. You refuse to beg, refuse to apologize for what you’ve done to get yourself in this position.

Much to your surprise (and gratitude), it seems Jay has also forgotten about his plan to make you beg and plead for forgiveness with the way his fingers slowly push into your hole. Curling his fingers slowly, Jay groans quietly. You almost missed it, too distracted with the relief he’s coaxing out of you.

It doesn’t take long for the squelching sounds to fill the room, your arousal quickly coating Jay’s fingers while he diligently curls inside you. His pace is slow but consistent, easily keeping you in a state of bliss while still eager for more.

“Fuck,” Jay groans, “you’re shaking, baby. You need me this bad?”

All you can muster is a pathetic whimper, trying to sneakily move your hips to fuck yourself more on his fingers. You should have known better, though. Nothing gets past Jay, afterall.

With his free hand, Jay brings it down on your left asscheek, kneading your flesh after the abrupt hit. “So impatient. You could have had me all this time if you had only asked.”

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” you whimper again, sighing contently when Jay’s finger brushes against your clit.

“And look where that got you; all pent up and being punished for your childish decisions. But don’t worry, my baby, I’m a patient man and will show you how to behave.” He kisses the spot between your shoulder blades, chills erupting throughout your skin while somehow leaving a burning feeling in his absence.

You try to move your head to the side so you can see him – needing eye contact before saying what you want to say. “Jay–,” Hair falls in your face, cutting off your train of thought. You groan before trying to blow it away with no luck. Chuckling fondly, Jay removes his fingers from your cunt and leans forward, taking his untainted hand to move the disarray strands from your face. Time slows for a moment when you finally see him and it feels like the universe has finally aligned in your favor. You forget all about the fact that your hands are restrained behind your back and your ass is throbbing with pain, but none of it matters because you’re here with him after all this time.

“I really like you, Jay.”

He playfully rolls his eyes, blinking rapidly while biting his lip. The laugh he lets out is nervously joyful, his eyes softening despite his attempts to appear nonchalant. It feels so good to finally say the words out loud, confessing what’s been weighing on your heart for so long now.

“Well,” Jay says slowly, leaning closer to your face, “if it isn’t obvious…I really like you too, Y/n.” He leans in more, connecting your lips together despite the awkward angle. And it feels like the best kiss you could possibly have in a moment like this. Jay’s lips fit against yours perfectly, so soft, so comforting, so right.

When you finally pull apart, you watch as Jay’s gaze goes from warm and soft, to shadowed and devious. Your heart rate quickens, but before you have a chance to form a coherent thought, Jay sits up and is removing his shirt, barely within your peripheral view.

“I can’t wait any longer.” Jay’s words send a wave of excitement down to your core. You hear his clothes drop to the floor and you desperately want a view of him in all his naked glory. The feeling of something prodding at your hole jolts your system, completely unprepared for the intrusion. Jay’s hands grab your waist gently, repositioning your body to the angle he needs you in.

Nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of Jay’s cock inside of you. Every curve, every vein is everything you need and more.

“Oh my god,” Jay swears, bottoming out in you, “you feel so perfect. This pussy was made for me.” A sharp smack on your ass has you yelping, completely caught off guard. “Why would you keep this from me for so long?”

“I told you-”

Smack. The skin on your butt feels bruisingly hot, the sting so deep in your skin unlike anything you've ever felt before. And it feels so fucking good.

“Don’t talk back to me. Apologize. Tell me how sorry you are for keeping this pussy from me.” Him not moving and just sitting inside you is driving you crazy and you’ve had enough; no more holding onto your pride or sanity. You’re ready to lose it all and give anything you have as long as Jay asks for it.

“I’m sorry! Jay, please I’m sorry. I should have told you how I felt sooner.”

“Good fucking girl,” Jay growls and starts pistoning himself in and out of you, his grip tightening on your hips as he guides you into a perfect rhythm with his thrusts. You become a moaning mess, Jay’s pace unrelenting as he finally lets go of his control. The way his cock feels inside of you is a type of ecstacy you would never be able to conjure up in your wildest dreams.

“Oh, fuck!” You scream out when you feel the tip of Jay’s cock hitting the perfect spot. Even though he just started moving, it almost feels overstimulating. All the build up and teasing from before crashes over you in a drowning wave and all you can think about is how good he feels inside of you. He continues to set a steady pace, not faltering for even a moment when he leans down to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and out of your face. Your stomach flips at the small act of intimacy during such lewd and aggressive acts of sex.

It doesn’t take long before the knot in your stomach tightens to an unbearable depth. No one has ever made you get even close to an orgasm this quickly, let alone make you a blubbering mess underneath them. The way Jay handles your body…it’s like he’s known all along how you’ve needed to be handled. Maybe it’s the years of friendship coming into play, but the way your bodies connect and respond to one another feels natural, like it was meant to happen. There’s moments where you even catch yourself forgetting that this is the first time you’re having sex with him instead of the hundredth. But that will surely come in the future.

“That’s it, baby. Just like that.” Jay coaxes you through your high, still languidly thrusting into you while you gasp beneath him, body shuddering and quivering from how hard your orgasm hit.

Once you regain some sort of composure, Jay flips you onto your back, your restrained hands digging into your spine. Tears are streaming down your face from everything: the overstimulation, the foreplay, the buildup, the orgasm. When Jay sees your tear stained face, his body stutters. He was just about to insert himself back into you when he sees what a mess he’s made of you. Before he can even insert the tip of his cock back inside you, hand still grasping his own base, he’s coming undone. Spurts of white cum hit all over your body from your chest to your stomach and down to your thighs. Jay’s groan has your heart beating even faster than before as you watch him lose himself at the sight of you, a sense of pride blooming in your chest at the fact that he came so hard just from looking at you.

“Fuck…that’s never happened to me before,” he’s breathing hard, trying to regain his calm demeanor to no avail, “just seeing you like that…I don’t know what came over me.”

“I know what came over me…” you mutter. Jay looks at you for a moment before bursting out in a fit of laughter, you following closely behind. Falling beside you, Jay tucks his head into the crook of your neck, molding his body against yours as your mutual laughter dies down.

“Let me get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, leaving a featherlight kiss to your neck before sitting up and freeing your wrists from the constraints of his belt. He tosses the belt aside and goes back to massage your wrists gently, looking into your eyes to make sure you’re feeling okay. You nod your head, whispering a quiet “thank you” before he stands up. Stretching, you get a chance to admire the muscles of his back and the way he stands so tall and steady. Something about it is reassuring and you can’t quite place your finger on it, but you know it’s a sight you’ll never get used to.

Disappearing into your bathroom, you hear the sound of running water and cabinet doors being opened and closed. Before long, Jay is in front of you again. Instead of handing you a bundled up wad of toilet paper like other guys have done in the past, Jay presses a warm washcloth against your skin, cleaning up the mess he left behind on your body. The warmth feels soothing, making you sigh and close your eyes as you let him take care of you.

“Don’t fall asleep yet.”

You groan and roll onto your side facing him with your eyes still closed, “Why? You fucked me so hard I nearly passed out.”

“Because…” the sultry low tone of his voice has your eyes snapping open. Right in front of your face is Jay’s cock, fully erect with new beads of precum dribbling from his slit. Giving a light smack to your cheek with the tip of his dick, Jay chuckles seeing your widened eyes, “we’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for. And we’re just getting started.”

♡ pls like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! ♡ masterlist ♡ all rights reserved jayparked 04/11/25 do not copy, repost, or translate. if you're inspired to create something similar to my work, please credit me

#enhypen fake texts #jay smut #enhypen jay smut #jay x reader #jay x you #jay x y/n #jay hard hours #jay hard thoughts #jongseong smut #jay oneshot #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x y/n #jay fic #enhypen fic #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours

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prythianpages · 8 months ago

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A Light That Never Goes Out | Azriel

Azriel x Rhysand's sister (reader) | The aftermath of Azriel kissing you in front of everyone in the Court of Nightmares.

warnings: angry Rhys, angry High Lord, brief mention of Tamsand, mating bond snapping

word count: roughly 3K, around 3.5K if you read the bonus scene

a/n: This is a part two to this but can be read as a stand alone. I had fun writing this but I worry this sounded better in my head. I was tempted to turn this into a crack fic bc of this trending tiktok sound.

Azriel kisses you, consequences be damned. His hand slides from yours to the nape of your neck, drawing you closer. You kiss him back with the same intensity, years of longing and love pouring into this single moment. Your mind and thoughts tangling with his, the bond between you surging with emotion. Desire and hope. He’s still in disbelief that tonight was the first night he told you he loved you.

But in truth, Azriel had been telling you all along—in every glance, every touch, every kiss that held more than words ever could.

Azriel’s shadows recoil as the two of you pull apart, breathless. The Court of Nightmares had faded away, the two of you lost in each other. It’s just you and him, as it is meant to be…Until the distinctive footsteps of your father approaching echoes throughout the ballroom. Your eyes are wide, too many emotions swirling within their depths.

But Azriel is relieved that regret is not one of them.

“Azriel.”

The High Lord’s voice is calm and collected but the fury flickering in his violet eyes is unmistakable. He stands no more than two feet away, the authority radiating from him as cold as it is absolute. Beside him, Rhysand watches, his expression unreadable.

Your father lifts a hand, wisps of darkness and starlight spilling from his fingertips. The orchestra resumes under the silent command and driven by some invisible force, the guests resume dancing and drinking. As if nothing had happened.

“Come with me,” your father says, his tone leaving no room for argument. His command is directed solely at Azriel. “I’d like to have a word.”

You try to hold on to Azriel, to keep him close, but he slips his fingers from yours, bowing his head in quiet submission to your father. Without another word, he follows after him. And though his command had been directed solely at Azriel, the weight of the situation falls on the both of you.

So you step forward, determined to follow after them. But just as you step outside the ballroom, Rhysand grasps your arm, forcing you to a stop.

“You stupid, foolish…,” his voice trails off in frustration. “What have you done?”

You spin on him, eyes flashing with anger as you yank your arm out of his hold. “What have I done? What about what have you done? Planning marriage alliances behind my back? Like I’m some pawn on your chessboard?”

Rhysand’s gaze softens for a brief moment. “Y/n, I–”

“No.” You interrupt sharply, starlight beginning to swirl from the fingertip you point at him. You don’t want to hear his excuse, whatever justification he thinks will make this right. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Cassian and Mor making their way toward you, slipping through the dancing couples and out of the ballroom.

The starlight seeping from your fingertip glows brighter, ready and poised to attack. However, it’s your words you speak into his mind that make the blow instead.

“You know, if you love that runt from Spring so much, why don’t you marry him yourself?”

Rhysand’s eyes widen, his brows furrowing as the meaning of your words hit him. The revelation that you know his secret. Where he’d sneak off to some nights. Why the scent of crisp rain and earth lingered on him when he’d return. You and Azriel had pieced it together after Cassian had mentioned that his book on Illyrian training and methods suddenly went missing. Given your secret, you and Azriel had kept that information to yourselves, waiting for the moment Rhysand would feel comfortable to tell you himself.

It takes him a moment to regain his composure, for his gaze to harden again. His lips curl into a snarl–a warning. “Y/n.”

He leans in forward but you take a step back and winnow away, only one thing on your mind. Finding Azriel.

The walk to the High Lord’s private office in the Court of Nightmares is silent but the sense of foreboding is nearly deafening. Azriel is tense, his shadows quiet and burrowing into his leathers. Too many possibilities and consequences storm through his mind, each one more damning than the last.

Does he regret kissing you in front of everyone? No.

That kiss was the first honest, uninhibited thing he’d allowed himself to do in years. It was freeing, exhilarating to be able to show everyone, especially the sons of Spring and Autumn that you were his and he was yours. He could face death for this—for touching the High Lord’s daughter. For kissing you so openly, so brazenly, in front of the entire court.

But why? Why should it be so wrong for him to love you? Because of his birth? The scars of his past that marked him as unworthy? He’s served loyally. Bled for this court.Tortured for this court.

He’s watched from the shadows as lords and sons, full of false charm, have circled you like vultures, eyeing you as nothing more than a prize to be claimed. And yet, when he—who knows you, who cherishes you—shows his love, it is considered a crime.

It isn’t fair. But Azriel has never been afforded fairness.

The heavy doors to the High Lord's office swing open with a wave of his hand, and Azriel steps inside. The air is thick with tension, and every muscle in his body tightens. The High Lord gestures for him to sit, but Azriel bows his head, respectfully declining. Standing feels safer. Less vulnerable. He wonders if his refusal will anger the High Lord further, but the single shadow curling at his ear reports no rising fury.

He can feel the weight of the High Lord’s gaze—it’s heavy, scrutinizing, like the cold press of a blade against his skin. He keeps his eyes forward, even though his heart pounds in his chest. If there’s punishment to be had, Azriel will accept it.

The High Lord moves to his desk, positioned beneath an oculus, where moonlight spills through and dances across his features. He gazes up at the starlit sky as if searching for answers—or perhaps, waiting.

“Normally, this is the part where people like you should be begging for forgiveness, for a way to rectify your mistake.”

Azriel’s jaw tightens. “I haven’t made a mistake.”

“No?” The High Lord’s gaze snaps back to him, piercing as if he could peel away Azriel’s very skin to lay bare his soul. Azriel wonders, for a brief moment, if your daemati powers had been inherited from your father. Could the High Lord see into his mind, his thoughts? Have kept this power to himself all these years as a secret weapon?

“You sound so sure of yourself,” the High Lord continues, his tone sharpening. “Tell me, how long has this... affair been going on?”

“For decades.” Azriel admits, knowing that there was no use in lying. The truth was already written in the way he kissed you, in the way he looked at you as you broke away from the kiss.

“For decades?” The High Lord repeats, his expression darkening, violet eyes narrowing. “You took my daughter’s first dance tonight of all nights.”

Azriel’s silence says everything. Both of them aware that Azriel had taken more than dances, more than a kiss.

“You’ve taken her innocence. You’ve ruined her…” The High Lord continues to seethe in that cool, unnerving tone.

Azriel’s fingers twitch at his sides, fighting the urge to reach for his dagger. Not to defend himself, but because it’s his only comfort in moments like these.

But this is not a battle to be fought with daggers or swords. This is a battle of love, of politics, of status. One he’s had no training for yet one he’s willing to fight. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d fight against all odds.

“Whether she marries Spring or Autumn, she will become a lady of the highest esteem and forge a strong alliance with my court. Laden with all the riches and wonders only a High Lord can offer. What can you offer? You don’t even have a proper last name to give her, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel swallows thickly, the weight and shame of his low-born status crashing into him like the violent current of Illyria’s river. It feels like he’s sinking under it, drowning in it. He knows he can’t offer you what any son of Spring or Autumn could. He had reminded you of that—again and again.

It’s as if you can feel his doubts creeping back in, the poison of guilt and worthlessness seeping in. Your presence—soft, warm, and steady—enters his mind. You bring forth the memory you had shared with him moments ago on the dance floor again.

“I can’t give you much,” his voice had dropped to a whisper, barely a rasp as he leaned his forehead against yours. His nose brushed against yours, his lips hovering just over your own. “But I can give you everything I have.”

“That’s all I’ll ever need,” you had replied, the words echoing now in his mind, like an antidote to the venom of doubt. That’s all I’ll ever need, that’s all I’ll ever need, that’s all—

“I asked you a question, Azriel.” The High Lord’s sharp voice cut through the memory, yanking him back to the cold, oppressive reality of the Court of Nightmares. “What can you offer in exchange for my daughter?”

Azriel’s knees buckle beneath him before he even realizes it. He drops to the floor, bowing his head low. His shadows stir, swirling around him in a frenzy, urging him to stand. To stop him.

“My life.”

“Your life,” The High Lord muses. He lets out a dark, humorless chuckle. “You love my daughter enough to give your life for her?”

“Yes,” Azriel says, his voice firm and steady, even as his shadows coil tighter around his arms, trying to pull him back from this path. But he stays rooted to the floor. His life, his soul—it all belongs to you anyway. What was it worth, if not to protect you? To be yours?

The High Lord’s eyes narrow as he studies the swirling shadows, dark and restless, wrapping themselves around Azriel’s form. Shadowsingers are rare. Their power is precious. They can see and hear things others can’t. The only known living one kneels before him now.

Despite his low born status, the Shadowsinger had also proved himself a formidable, Illyrian warrior. A Carynthian. It’s why he appointed Azriel as the Night Court’s spymaster.

And now this powerful and strong male is offering his life.

To have a Shadowsinger as his spymaster is rare, a gift in itself. To have Azriel’s loyalty, his strength, his skills bound by magic for life. A weapon of mass destruction, at his beck and call. No room for betrayal, no worry over him leaving his court for another.

All in exchange for your hand in marriage?

Now, that sounds like a deal.

He lets out a thoughtful hum, voicing his consideration. He could give Azriel a title, raise him from his bastard status. At his will, darkness begins to rise from the floor. The power of the bargain hovers in the air between them, ready to etch itself into both their skins.

Azriel finally lifts his head, meeting the High Lord’s eyes with no fear. Only the light of determination. He is willing to give his life to your father if that’s what it takes to be by your side.

The cloud of darkness begins to separate, its dark tendrils moving toward him, the binding magic poised to seal his fate, to chain him to this bargain for the rest of his life.

But before it can touch his skin, before the deal can be made, a bright light erupts in the room. A sharp hiss escapes the darkness as it recoils, retreating back into the shadows where it had come from. Azriel’s own shadows seem to shudder in relief.

Both Azriel and the High Lord’s heads snap toward the source of the light. You stand at the doors, your eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears, your hands glowing with pure, raging starlight.

“No!” you cry, the word trembling on your lips as you step forward, the glow around you growing even brighter.

Your eyes lock with Azriel’s and something tightens in his chest, crawling up his rib cage. It’s sharp and breathtaking. His hand grabs at his chest and yours does the same.

”He will not be your slave,” you say, turning to your father with the same determination flashing in your eyes. “There has to be another way.”

The High Lord’s features morph into a scowl. “Another way? My star, he is a bastard—”

“I love him!”

That tightening in his chest finally snaps and Azriel’s breath catches. He feels that light in your eyes, perfectly reflecting the one in his. It sears into his soul, as fierce and unrelenting as the starlight glowing from your hands.

Your father doesn’t notice the shift in the air, the change in Azriel’s posture, in his chest. Or in yours.

“You think that means anything?”

Azriel’s shadows whisper a warning into his ears, of an oncoming raging darkness. Different but similar to the High Lord’s. He barely hears his shadows, too focused on you, on the bond thrumming between you. His mind is consumed with you.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

“You and mother—” you begin.

“Do you think your mother and I love each other?” The High Lord interrupts sharply, his voice cold and cutting. He breaks out into a laugh.

Azriel snaps out of his trance. Anger flares within him at the shock, the devastation that takes over your features. He watches as you shrink back slightly, his instincts roaring to protect you from any harm, whether verbal or otherwise.

Because he’s your mate. Because he loves you.

“You think I would marry your mother, a low born seamstress by choice? What your mother and I have is different. It’s complicated. A special bond. One that gave me Rhysand and you and–”

A sound like thunder crashes through the room, reverberating off the stone walls as darkness swells in every corner. One moment, Azriel is on his knees. The next, he’s slamming into the cold marble floor, the force of Rhysand’s power pinning him down. Tendrils of Rhysand’s darkness coil around Azriel’s form, fighting with the shadows that instinctively rise to defend him.

“How long?” Rhysand's violet eyes blaze as they burn into Azriel.

“And I am beginning to think you both are nuisances to my existence rather than gifts...” The High Lord mutters followed by an exhausted sigh.

“How long have you been fucking my sister?” His words are a snarl as he slams Azriel harder into the floor, advancing toward him with clenched fists.

“Rhysand!” You let out a cry, rushing to the two males to separate them.

Your brother whips around, his anger igniting into something fiercer at the sight of you. “Stay out of this!” he snaps, his hand raising. He’s too angry, too heated. So much that he doesn't even notice the force of darkness he aims your way.

Rhysand’s magic hits you hard, knocking the breath from your lungs. A choked gasp escapes as you stumble backward, struggling to keep your footing. A burst of bright sapphire explodes from each of Azriel’s siphons, a deep and low growl rumbling from his chest. He breaks free from Rhysand’s magic, standing to his feet. His wings flare behind him, shadows swirling like a storm.

The look in his hazel eyes is nothing short of feral, dark and ancient, a fierce and possessive glint that makes Rhysand falter and surprise flash across the High Lord’s features.

You fall to the ground with a thud, palms scraping against the stone and pain flaring in your hands. Rhysand turns toward you, the anger that had been simmering in his violet gaze immediately dissolving into guilt and regret. “Y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t touch her.” Azriel growls, standing in between you and your brother, his shadows forming in an additional protective barrier. Some shadows flutter toward you, helping you stand and bringing you to Azriel’s side. Your hand instinctively seeks Azriel’s, fingers curling into his and you squeeze it, letting him know you’re alright.

“By the Cauldron…” the High Lord’s voice comes out in a low murmur, his gaze darting between you and Azriel. His eyes narrow as he finally notices the subtle shift in the air, in your scents. The scent of a bond.

“You two are mates,” he says, tone laced with resignation. Because even he, a High Lord, is not above going against The Cauldron.

It feels like a punch to the gut for Rhysand. His best friend and his sister. Fate’s inevitable design had been right under his nose all along. “What?” Rhysand breathes in shock, chest still heaving from the exertion of his magic.

Azriel’s hand tightens around yours. His gaze softens as he turns to you, the fierce protectiveness from earlier easing into something gentler. And when your eyes meet again, it’s there—the unmistakable light of the mating bond. It shines bright and steady between you. Just like your love for each other does.

A light that never goes out.

bonus scene

Once the shock of the bond had worn off, the High Lord excused himself, muttering about damage control. “Spring will be the hardest to deal with,” he had said.

Rhysand’s body tensed as his eyes found yours. But you’d only given him a small, reassuring smile. Though it is something you would like to talk about, his secret would remain safe with you.

Your father would soon announce the bond to the Court of Nightmares, already making plans for a grand mating ceremony. You’d much rather have something private, intimate. But a public celebration seemed like a small price to pay for the lifetime you’d get to spend beside the male you loved.

Rhysand turned his gaze back to Azriel, his expression still unreadable. “You never answered my question,” he said, voice calm but edged with something darker. “How long?”

Azriel hesitated before answering, unlike the way he had with the High Lord. This was his best friend standing in front of him. The one he grew up and trained along with, survived the brutality of the Blood Rite with. Rhysand was like a brother to him and he went behind his back for years.

“A decade.”

“A decade?” Rhysand blinks in surprise.

A whole decade of secrecy. Of Azriel sneaking around with his little sister. It all made sense now. Why Azriel became more reserved, more private. Why Azriel no longer indulged himself with the pleasures of the females at Rita’s or the Illyrian camps like he and Cassian did. Why you spent more time at the Moonstone palace, instead of the House of Wind, where you had grown up and been raised by a handful of Priestesses. It hadn’t been to learn about the politics of the courts but to be closer to Azriel.

And then, with no warning, Rhysand swings.

The hit lands squarely on Azriel’s jaw, so swift and unexpected that neither you nor Azriel’s shadows had seen it coming. Azriel takes the blow without protest, silently commanding his shadows to stand their ground and not fight back.

“Rhys!” you snapped, your brows furrowing into a scowl.

Rhysand huffs, shaking out his hand from the impact. “That’s for going behind my back,” he says. He pauses for a second and then, he lets out a low chuckle. Full of disbelief and relief.

“I’m still angry at both of you,” Rhysand admits, and Azriel lowers his head, bracing for more. “Not because it’s you—though I’ll admit, seeing you together is... strange. But because you kept it from me for so long, putting both of your lives at risk.”

Then Rhysand’s voice softens, his gaze following. “But I’m glad it’s you.”

Azriel lifts his head back up in surprise as Rhysand holds out his hand.

“You’re a good male, Azriel. Better than most. And I know you’ll protect her. Love her in a way no one else can.”

Azriel stares at Rhysand’s outstretched hand before finally clasping it, the tension between them easing. Your chest warms at your brother’s sincerity.

The sound of footsteps, heavy and hurried, echo through the stone walls. They grow louder with each passing second and moments later, Cassian and Mor appear at the entrance of your father’s study. Cassian braces himself against the doorframe and Mor leans on him, their chests rising and falling rapidly.

It’s clear they’re winded from the endless stairs they must’ve taken to reach the floor of your father’s private study. It was located between the Court of Nightmares and Moonstone Palace, warded so that only those of his bloodline could winnow directly inside.

Their eyes dart between the three of you.

“What did we miss?”

a/n: hope you enjoyed! here’s a little HC (idk what to call it?) of Rhys’s sis & Az if you’re curious 💙

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits13, @lorosette

fic tag: @noisyinfluencerstrawberry, @tothestarsandwhateverend, @tulipbite, @kylaisra, @stressed-reader

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #acotar x you #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel x rhysand's sister #rhysand's sister x azriel

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merrinla · 4 months ago

Text

Cut lines from Solas and Rook after Weisshaupt. None of these are voiced, so only text. Some are rewritten in the game.

Solas: You once told me that you would stop the gods without getting "thousands of innocent people killed."

Solas: You once told me that you would accept whatever consequences came from your battle.

Solas: You once told me that the consequences of your battle would be a problem for "Future Rook."

Rook: Yeah.

option: Don't mock me, okay? Rook: Whatever your big trickster-god lesson is, could we just... not? Solas: Why not? What makes this time different? Rook: Weisshaupt? Solas: You have seen death before.

option: I let the team down. Rook: I went to Weisshaupt to stop the gods... with a team of people I'd recruited.

Rook: Davrin, Lucanis, all of them... I convinced them to join. I told them we could win. Rook: And right now, it feels like I lied to them.

option: I was in command. Rook: But I've never been in charge. And this time...

Rook: I punched the First Warden in the face and made everybody listen to me.

Rook: I got the First Warden to listen. I got him to believe in me.

Rook: And then I... I couldn't get it done. I failed. And Weisshaupt fell.

option: This time broke me. Rook: This time, I feel... nothing. Solas: And still you hide your feelings.

Rook: No, I mean... I try to think about what I'm feeling, and I just... there's nothing there. Rook: If I think about what happened at Weisshaupt, I just... stop. Like I could go to sleep and never wake up. Rook: And I can't afford to do that. Solas: Why not? Rook: Because I let everyone down once already. I can't do it again.

Solas: There it is. The grief of having not lived up to the trust that others placed in you. Solas: It is a pain worse than any Elgar'nan or Ghilan'nain could inflict, and if you let it, it can help you. Rook: How?

Solas: There are those who hold their emotions at a distance to avoid the sting of failure. Solas: To defeat Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain, there can be no distance. You must be committed. Rook: What, you think we failed because I didn't want it enough? Solas: I cannot say. But you chose this battle, and in so doing, you chose these consequences. Solas: Regret is the price we pay for acting when no one else will. Solas: Without regret, we would not be driven to correct our mistakes, to improve. To get it right.

option: I'll get it right. Rook: Next time, we won't miss. Solas: I believe you. Solas: And I believe that if you listen to me, then Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain will fall.

option: I don't want to feel this. Rook: It still hurts. Solas: I have lived thousands of years and made countless mistakes. It always hurts. Solas: If you listen to that feeling, perhaps you may never need to feel it again so keenly.

option: I'm not here for this shit. Rook: I didn't come here for your philosophical bullshit. I came for help! Solas: What did you think my help would look like? Solas: I cannot promise that our talks will be easy. All I can promise is that if you listen to me, Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain will fall.

option: I need some support. Rook: Could you be hopeful Solas instead of smug Solas right now. Rook: I don't need you to convince me how bad things are, okay? I get it. I really, really get it. Solas: You have finally met the Evanuris in battle.

option: I have to act confident. Rook: Yeah, we met the gods, and now I have to act like we're not completely screwed and this was a good step forward. Solas: Why? Rook: We lost a lot of Grey Wardens. We lost Weisshaupt. If we lost all of that, and I didn't accomplish anything? Solas: Then what? Rook: Then there's no way I can win. I should just start running now. Rook: But I can't. I have to keep acting like there's some way to win. And that's... terrifying.

Solas: Good. There it is. The fear. Solas: You finally see the consequences. You know the stakes. That fear, the terror of what you face now, can help you, if you let it. Rook: How does admitting I'm terrified help?

option: And I'm in charge. Rook: And somehow, I'm supposed to go up against them again, and everyone is looking to me for a plan. Solas: The plan will come. Once you have marshaled your forces...

Rook: I had a legendary assassin, a dragon hunter, and an army of Grey Wardens, and we still failed! I still failed. Rook: People keep asking me what we do now, and I have no idea. And that is... terrifying.

option: They're too powerfull. Rook: Yeah, and it turns out that when you're fighting a god, terror is a perfectly rational feeling!

Rook: And don't give me that "Evanuris" crap. You can turn people to stone with your eyes! Solas: Yes, and yet I wield far less power than Ghilan'nain or Elgar'nan. Rook: The world is going to end up a blighted wasteland unless I stop them, and... I don't think I can.

option: This is your fault! Rook: No. You don't get to come in here all superior. A whole lot of people just died, and that's on you! Solas: I have made many mistakes, but I did not free Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain. Rook: Fine. Whatever. Solas: No. This is important, Rook. Solas: Your fury is real, but you can only defeat it if you identify its source. Who are you truly angry at?

option: Everyone! Rook: I'm trying to save the world, and everybody's kicking me in the shins while I'm doing it!

Rook: Tevinter and the Antaam would rather fight each other!

Rook: The Grey Wardens wouldn't listen until I punched their leader in the face and took over!

Rook: The First Warden wouldn't listen until the enemy was stomping all over his courtyard!

Rook: I can't do this alone! I need people to shut up and do what I tell them for once, or I'm going to fail again!

option: Ugh. Myself! Rook: I know who I'm angry at. It doesn't matter. Solas: Of course it matters. You must learn who you are.

Rook: The whole world is gonna know who I am! They're gonna make statues of me!

Rook: "In honor of Rook: He/She/They almost saved Weisshaupt!"

option: Bad luck? Rook: I don't know! Fate, luck, something! This whole mission has been one disaster after another. Solas: And how would luck help you? What is it that you need?

Rook: I need a break! I need one damn thing to go right for once! Solas: Because you deserve it? Rook: Because I can't do this! Rook: But if I don't, nobody will. So I've gotta keep banging my head against this wall like an idiot hoping for a miracle!

Solas: There it is. The anger. The frustration at having failed. Solas: Properly channeled, that rage can flare hot enough to burn away any impurities. Rook: Fine! I'm angry! How does that help?

option: We made progress. Rook: I'd hoped we'd take down Ghilan'nain, but we did kill her Archdemon. That's a good start.

Solas: "A good start." I wonder if your fellow Wardens would agree.

Solas: "A good start." I wonder if the Grey Wardens would agree.

Solas: Does this truly feel like even a partial victory, or does something uncomfortable lurk behind that easy smile?

option: No. But being sad won't help. Rook: No, of course it doesn't feel like victory. But that's what leadership is. Rook: It's putting your own feelings aside so the team doesn't collapse. Solas: And what is so dangerous that the mere sight of it would destroy your team? Rook: That I was wrong.

option: I'm tryung to believe. Rook: It has to feel like a partial victory. If it doesn't...

option: I need to seem confident. Rook: How do you think I feel? But the team needs me to look like I know what I'm doing. Solas: And what do you need?

option: Thanks, Past Rook. Rook: Sounds like something Past Rook would say. He's/She's/They're kind of an asshole.

Solas: (Chuckles)

Solas: You use humor a great deal.

Solas: "The elven god of sarcasm."

Solas: "This is the reason nobody likes you."

Solas: "Killing an Archdemon is the easy part."

Solas: Is all of this really so amusing, or is that wit the blade with which you keep less comfortable feelings at bay?

option: It's that or cry. Rook: I'm doing the best I can to hold it together. Sometimes that means stupid jokes. Solas: And when those fail? Rook: Then I probably start ugly-sobbing. Snotty nose, blotchy face, the whole deal. Solas: Why? You are no stranger to death. You have seen warriors fall in battle before.

option: It's that or panic. Rook: Well, I don't think uncontrollable screaming is gonna help anything, and that's the only other option. Solas: Uncontrollable screaming at what?

option: It's that or rage. Rook: Yeah, there's a pretty good chance the jokes are how I cope. Solas: And beneath those jokes? Rook: Why does that matter? Would me yelling right now help anything? Solas: It might help you know who you are.

option: It's a lot to accept. Rook: I was thinking I'd be accepting hurt feelings, not a whole fortress falling to darkspawn. Solas: Sometimes the hurt feelings are worse.

option: I guess? Rook: Weisshaupt could've fallen without us killing Ghilan'nain's Archdemon. That would technically be worse. Solas: Technically.

option: That's still true. Rook: And I stand by that. Solas: Truly? You watched a fortress fall and Wardens die, and it touches nothing within you?

Solas: I expect that you call it professionalism.

Solas: No hesitation. "We stopped you. We'll stop them."

Solas: No concern. Just targets. "Any other surprises we should know about?"

Solas: What are you so desperate to avoid feeling?

option: Numb. Rook: Nothing. Solas: So no fear, no anger, lurks beneath the surface?

option: Terror. Rook: Ghilan'nain was so much worse than anything I expected. She's a god.

option: Fucking furious. Rook: I am so fucking tired of being the one who has to do this while the rest of the world ignores the problem!

Solas: And while your grief is valid, the situation is not as dire as it seems.

Solas: And while your fear is valid, the situation is not as dire as it seems.

Solas: And while your frustration is valid, the situation is not as dire as it seems.

Solas: You have slain an Archdemon, a feat only a few have accomplished over the centuries. Solas: Ghilan'nain is now mortal. If you can find her and catch her unprepared, you can kill her. Rook: So how do I find her? Solas: Your team has ties to organizations with connections you lack. The Shadow Dragons in Minrathous, the Veil Jumpers in Arlathan, and so on. Solas: Strengthening your team will strengthen those groups. Prove your value as an ally, and they will give you the openings you seek. Rook: Okay, I'll see what I can do. Solas: Good. And Rook... I am sorry for the necessity of this lesson.

option: No, I appreciate it. Rook: You don't have to apologize. I know you're trying to help, so... thanks. Solas: Don't. Don't thank me. Solas: Our talk today will lead to Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain falling, but it is not a kindness. Solas: Good luck.

option: It's not wholly unexpected. Rook: You talk with the Dread Wolf, you gotta be prepared to bleed a little. Solas: A painful assessment, but more than fair, especially today. Solas: If I knew some other way to prepare you for what lies ahead, I would do so.

option: Whatever. Goodbye. Rook: We're done here. I'll talk to you when I know something. Solas: Of course. Then I will simply wish you good luck.

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #dav #da datamine #solas #rook

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kthologue · 2 years ago

Text

all mine — gojo satoru

synopsis. It’s the exchange event and gojo doesn’t like how that kyoto boy is looking at you.

contents. fluff, jealous!gojo, minor male oc, loosely based on that one jujutsu scroll, satoru is really insufferable and problematic but in his defense he is lovesick

gojo satoru is seething. he knows that you’re good looking, but he doesn’t need the entire world to know that either. if it were up to him, your beauty would be for his eyes only.

especially not that kyoto third year who has been eyeing you since your arrival.

it was sickening, really. and to add salt to the wound, you have been oblivious to it all. one moment, gojo has his arms draped around your shoulders, and in the blink of an eye, you were being whisked away by that third year.

“please don’t do what i think you're trying to do,” shoko’s unamused voice breaks his train of thought. her knowing gaze made gojo chuckle.

“who, me? why do you assume i’m plotting something?” gojo feigns innocence, hoping his friend couldn’t sense the vicious wave of cursed energy that was leaking out of him.

shoko doesn’t bother telling him that his usual sky blue eyes were darker, clouded with annoyance or whatever angsty emotion he was dealing with. suguru snorts at his best friend’s silent torment.

“he’s kinda cute,” shoko places a hand on her hip while she observes you conversing with the brown haired third year from kyoto. he was probably a clan kid, judging by his traditional kimono design for a uniform. “you think [name]’s into him?” she eggs gojo on with a smirk on her lips.

suguru bumps his shoulder against hers as a silent warning.

it takes a moment for satoru to process shoko’s conclusion, the realization evident on his face as his eyes slowly widened.

“like hell she is.” satoru’s fist clench and he thinks that he will explode if you keep entertaining that stupid kyoto boy. why waste your time with a weakling, when satoru, who was much worthier of your attention was standing just a couple of meters away in the same courtyard? satoru glares at you from above his glasses, hoping you can feel just an ounce of the anger he feels.

you don’t.

he thinks he dies a little bit on the inside. in fact, he thinks you’re purposefully messing with his mind with the way you playfully smack the kyoto boy’s shoulder with the same soft hand that gojo has dreamed of holding since his first year.

“stop being dramatic and let's warm up. we have team battles today.” annoyance is evident in suguru’s voice. yaga had warned the duo that if either of them acted up during the exchange event, the consequences would be dire.

“dramatic?” he scoffs, his glare not wavering. “she has the audacity to look beautiful in the presence of other men. she’s doing this on purpose.” his arms are crossed now.

exasperated looks are exchanged by his two friends.

screw whatever yaga said. without wasting another moment, satoru forced his way in your direction, ignoring suguru's attempt to stop him. shoko, however, held suguru back. "don't," she said, her eyes fixed on gojo. "i want to see what this idiot will do."

suguru sighed, acknowledging that gojo deserved whatever was coming his way.

you realize that perhaps you are too lenient with gojo satoru. you have forgiven every stunt he has pulled, but the look on his face right now as he approaches you with a wide grin makes you sense that might end now.

“wifey!” he closes the space between you. you furrow your eyebrows at the unfamiliar pet name. “how could you leave me for some kyoto scum?”

you choke on air at his blatant insult to the boy in front of you.

“ah, i apologize, i couldn’t help myself but steal her when i saw her. i’m ishikawa daisuke–”

“what a bold statement to say to her husband!” gojo doesn’t spare ishikawa a second glance, choosing to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. too shocked to move, you let gojo relish in the intimate action.

you’re equally as surprised as ishikawa at satoru’s declaration, a strangled noise escaping from your mouth. the idea of gojo as your husband… it was enough to make your brain short circuit. where did he even get the idea from?

ishikawa’s eyes are blown wide, any semblance of self confidence thrown out of the window, “i-i apologize for the misunderstanding. i wasn’t aware you were already married so young.” he stutters, bowing deeply to gojo who is smirking with a hand on his hip.

“damn right we are. i knew i had to tie the knot with this beauty the moment i met her.” satoru proudly exclaims, his gaze softening when it returns on you. the initial shock is starting to wear off and you are shooting gojo your harshest glare. satoru’s antics seem to never end.

“isn’t my wifey the cutest?” he coos down at you, tapping your nose with a single finger. you are tempted to bite it off.

“gojo satoru, you are the most insufferable man that i know,” you point at his chest angrily. “the most delusional too.” you mutter.

he places a pained hand to his chest, “you know other men? you’re killing me sweetheart.”

ishikawa coughs awkwardly, reminding you of his presence. you give him your best sympathetic look.

satoru, annoyed that your attention is off of him once again narrowed his eyes at the brown haired boy, “shouldn’t you be practicing with the rest of the kyoto weaklings? i recommend you to do so if you don’t want to be killed on the battlefield today.” satoru’s voice is an octave lower.

“satoru!” you’re startled by his indirect threat, quick to defend your senior who looked like he was moments away from pissing his pants.

“i-if you will excuse me.” ishikawa bows deeply once again before scurrying away without another word. you watch him hopelessly. the moment ishikawa is gone, satoru’s intimidating aura is replaced with a pout as he crosses his arms bitterly.

“if you wanted my attention you could’ve just asked.” satoru exhales forcefully with a hmph. his arms are still crossed and if it weren’t for the fact that he had acted utterly out of line, you would almost go as far as calling him cute.

“excuse me?”

“you were trying to get my attention,” he points out. “you don’t have to y’know.” my eyes are always on you. the words die on his lips.

a scoff leaves your mouth, disbelief is evident on your face, “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“you do!”

“are you jealous or something?” the idea that the great gojo satoru was sick with envy amused a cruel part inside of you.

“who? me? what could that country bumpkin have that i don’t?” he sounds almost offended at your accusation.

“he’s nice.”

“i can be nice!" satoru whines. there is desperation in his eyes. "i bought a can of tuna for that stray cat the other week, remember?”

“yeah, but he’s nice to people. he’s also polite and-”

“alright i get it! you don’t have to keep talking about him.” satoru's eyebrows furrow in sync with the way his bottom lip slightly juts out. “i just didn’t like how he looked at you.”

“and how did he look at me?”

satoru grumbles. was it not obvious enough? “his gaze was devouring you like you were his or something. honestly, what a loser. he’ll have to get in line.”

frustration laces your words as you challenge him, “you can’t just march around scaring off all of the guys that i talk to. i want you to admit that you were jealous."

satoru's jaw drops.

"you can't be serious." he protests, cerulean eyes widening. "i'm starting to think you like torturing me." you smile at his comment. you were indeed doing this on purpose.

"oh but i am completely serious," you reply with faux innocence, eyes blinking at him. “satoru.” you enunciate each syllable of his name, dealing the finishing blow.

he folds. you were being so unfair.

"i was jealous." he confesses petulantly. your grin widens as he admits his jealousy. the victory, however, is short-lived as satoru seizes the opportunity to sneak in another flirty comment. “it’s not my fault my dream girl happens to be everyone else’s.”

a groan escapes your lips, and you take your hand, lightly flicking his forehead. satoru accepts the physical contact happily.

"when will you give this bit up?" you retort, raising an eyebrow.

“when i finally put a ring on that finger,” satoru winks. you regard his words with skepticism, oblivious to the fact that he was dead set on it. gojo satoru was going to make you his, or at least die trying.

remember spring days masterlist

extra notes:

prior to the exchange event, utahime actually warned ishikawa that you were off limits. she didn’t elaborate why.

poor ishikawa seemed to be the target of most of satoru’s attacks during the team battle.

tokyo won the event by an overwhelming amount.

“i deserve victory kisses for carrying tokyo to victory, right [name]?” satoru had teased you on the way home.

you pretend to think about it, “hmm i think suguru’s curses were quite helpful. he’s the one that deserves the kisses.”

satoru had never moved faster in his entire life to cover your mouth with the palm of his hand and whisk you away from his best friend who had joined in your joke.

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x you #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojou x reader

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rafesbuzzcutseason · 24 days ago

Text

wicked game

chapter 13 - halloween part 2

synopsis: y/n is sarah’s roommate and the embodiment of sunshine. rafe, on the other hand, is her complete opposite. when the boys place a bet that he can't win her over, rafe takes the challenge without hesitation. after all, he never backs down from a dare. the closer rafe gets to y/n, he finds himself drawn to her warmth in a way he never expected, and for the first time, he wants to be more than just the guy with a bad reputation.

but secrets don’t stay hidden for long, and when y/n finds out the truth, rafe is left to face the consequences. now, he has to prove that somewhere along the way, the bet stopped mattering, because losing her was never part of the plan.

masterlist

cw: language, alcohol

the party was in full swing, the house covered head to toe in decorations and people all out in costumes.

you and the girls walked in arms linked, but your eyes scanned the room casually. as if you weren't immediately looking for rafe.

you spotted topper first, wearing a half arsed firefighter costume and a beer in hand. kelce was nearby, laughing with some zeta girls, dressed in a vampire outfit.

and then, by the kitchen, rafe.

wearing a ghostface costume, you almost couldn't contain yourself. he looked good. too good.

your stomach twisted.

he hadn’t seen you yet. maybe it was better that way.

you turned back toward your friends, trying to melt into the crowd, but then-

"y/n?"

his voice, behind you.

you froze, then turned slowly.

and there he was, standing a few feet away from the dance floor, tongue wetting his lips as his eyes swept over you.

"holy shit," rafe muttered. "you look…"

you raised an eyebrow, "careful. your wife might get jealous."

he didn’t laugh. not really. just took a slow step closer.

"she’s not my-" he cut himself off, shaking his head. "you look amazing."

"and you're ghostface. how original." you teased him.

"what, you don't like it?" he clutched his chest in fake offence, but you only rolled your eyes.

a relaxed silence fell between you two, in which you noticed the rest of the girls had left you alone with rafe. bitches you thought to yourself.

"can i get you a drink?" he asked sincerely.

"depends what you're going to get me."

"whatever you want sunshine."

"a rum and coke please mr ghostface." you replied, a small blush rising on your cheeks.

"coming right up.' he gave your shoulder a small squeeze as if to say 'stay right here' and disappeared further into the kitchen to make your drink.

as you pulled out a bar stall, a topless policeman came up behind you.

"looking good y/n."

you turned to face him, "jj?" you blinked, doing a double take.

he grinned, running a hand through his messy blond hair, fake badge glittering under the led lights. "what do you think? hot cop or not enough commitment?"

you laughed despite yourself, shaking your head. "you’re missing literally every part of the uniform except the handcuffs."

he smirked. "they're in my back pocket. you know, just in case."

"why am i not surprised." you laughed with him.

"you waiting on someone?" he asked, leaning on the counter beside you.

before you could answer, rafe came back into the room holding your drink and one for himself.

"ah, i see." jj spoke, slowly standing to leave you two it.

"can i help you jj?" rafe spoke with a possessive tone.

"nah bro i was just leaving. talk to ya soon y/n." jj gave you an awkward side hug before walking out.

you raised an eyebrow at rafe as he handed you the rum and coke. "jealous?"

"no." rafe muttered, jaw clenched.

you sipped slowly as you studied him. "you sure? because that felt pretty territorial."

"just didn’t like the way he was looking at you," he said, stepping a little closer.

"we’re just friends," you said softly, reaching out to grab his hand before quickly pulling away. rafe noticed and swiftly pulled your hand back, tracing small circles on your wrist.

"i really like your outfit," he whispered, nudging your cat ears.

"i like yours too," you mumbled, his intense stare making you feel nervous. "except i'd like it better if you kept the mask on."

"wow. you really hate looking at my face that much?" rafe laughed, eyes never leaving yours.

you tilted your head, giving him a sweet, slow smile. "it’s not that," you teased. "it’s just… you’re less distracting when your face is covered." a surge of confidence taking over.

rafe raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. "you find me distracting?"

you took another sip of your drink, ignoring the flutter in your chest. "you’re in a stupid outfit and still manage to be annoying. that’s a talent."

he leaned closer, close enough now that you had to tilt your head to look at him. "you calling me annoying, sunshine, or are you trying to admit you like looking at me?"

you rolled your eyes. "don’t flatter yourself." but your voice was lighter than you wanted it to be.

the music shifted, pulsing louder from the other room, the familiar beat of 'come as you are' started playing. “i love this song!” you turned to rafe, finishing the drink in your hand and pulling him up.

he didn’t stop you, just fell into step beside you as you pushed through the crowd back toward the living room where everyone was dancing. the soft lights glowed across his face as he followed, his jaw tight, eyes unreadable.

"you gonna dance?" you asked, tossing a look over your shoulder.

“only if it’s with you.” he pulled you in.

you laughed, letting your hands rest on his shoulders as his slid to your waist. hips starting to move a little with the rhythm. the warmth from the alcohol was finally catching up to you, softening the edge of your nerves.

your heart was racing. the way his fingers gripped you tighter, the way his gaze kept dropping to your lips like he was fighting something. he pulled you in closer, skin touching and bodies pressing.

you tried to keep your eyes anywhere but his mouth, but it was impossible. especially when he leaned in, voice just above the music. "you always dance like this? or just with me?"

you tilted your head, smirking. "if i say just with you, is your ego gonna inflate?"

"already has," he murmured, turning you around so you were pulled flushed against his chest. you could feel the heat radiating off him, his hands gripping your body like he couldn’t help it.

his fingers slid under the hem of your top, just barely. warm and confident and like he belonged there.

you should’ve pulled away. made a joke. changed the subject. but you didn’t.

"i can feel you staring," you whispered, turning your neck to look at him.

"i know." his voice was low, rougher now.

you turned fully to look up at him. neither of you looked away. your faces were inches apart, breath mixing in the tiny space between. his hand was still on your waist. yours curled in the fabric of his shirt.

"fuck this," he muttered suddenly.

you blinked. "what?"

"come with me." he pulled back slightly, already lacing his fingers with yours. "just for a minute."

you hesitated, but allowed him to drag you through the heavy crowd of people.

he led you out the back door into the cool night air, no one else around but you two.

the noise dulled the second the door shut behind you. it was quieter out here, besides the heavy breathing of the two of you.

rafe stopped by one of the trees, letting your hands drop, reluctantly, you noticed, and looked at you for a second like he wasn’t sure where to start.

"needed needed some fresh air?" you asked, worry rising.

he laughed under his breath, shaking his head. "no. needed to stop pretending like i wasn’t gonna kiss you."

your breath caught.

"so dramatic," you whispered, but your heart was thudding so loud you were sure he could hear it.

"maybe." he stepped in again, slower this time. deliberate. his hands found your waist like he’d been there before, like he knew every curve of it.

his voice was barely a whisper now. his eyes locked on yours. "you want me to back off?"

you didn’t say anything. you just leaned in.

it started of gentle, testing the waters. but as soon as a small gasp left your lips and your hand curled around the back of his neck, that was it.

his lips pressed harder against yours, all hesitation gone. he tasted like alcohol and something darker. he tasted like him.

your back hit the tree behind you before you even registered that he'd stepped forward again, chest flush against yours, hand slipping to your jaw.

you weren’t sure who made the sound, him or you, but your lips parted again, deeper this time, more desperate. like neither of you wanted to come up for air. like this had been building for too long and it was finally breaking.

his thumb brushed your cheek, and his other hand gripped your hip. "fuck," he muttered against your mouth, pulling back just enough to look at you. "been wanting to do that since the second i saw you tonight."

you blinked up at him, breathless, lips still tingling. "just tonight?"

his grin was lazy. dangerous. "don’t push it, sunshine. you know the answer already." he kept his forehead pressed to yours. "i've been losing my mind over you," he murmured.

you looked up at him, lips swollen, eyes searching. "so have i."

and rafe smiled, really smiled, before pulling you in again. slower this time, savouring your taste, hands sliding over your body.

the party felt a million miles away. it was just the two of you, hearts racing, lips colliding, unsaid sentences lost in the small space between your lips.

a/n: holllyyyy shit i am back!!! and with a bang if i do say so myself...

anyway notice the queer reference in here hehehe

hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i did writing it!!! thank u for always waiting for me and being so supportive. love u guys

🏷️: @heartzshiftamy @hoefordrewstarkey @luvrclub @leleee3 @yktayy9669 @miumiuestmoi @anacamofficial @cokewithcameron @bloodofadoll @shorttandsweett @mysticbby2009 @emmiesummers @wintercrows @drewrry @starkeyxcameron @xxbirkindoll2 @stoned-writer @drewstarkeyslover @hannieskzzz @verycherryblossomhideout @letstryagaintomorrow @@jjsbbg7 @mariamadison6-blog @laniirackssss @xeneasworld @countryclubwhore @drewsphswife @mattyskies @moonywhisp3rs @starkeygirls @lmaolmaos @thereallifebambi @emeloyy @vcnillafairy @rafecameronswhoore @st8rkey @angeldiaryy @therealfairybatman @drewsephrry @vanessa-rafesgirl @dreamybabbyy @pogueprincesa @happy-mushrooms @hannaa20002000 @whoismxtti @darlingstarkey @mattssweetheart @wuluhwuhmaster @harringtonsbowgirl @my-name-is-baby @rrosiitas @davinashifts333@cinnamqnnlatte @fastlovela @stelleduarte @fastlovela @deeninadream @moond0llie @dylsdaily @nonbeliever1 @cinnamon-girl4life @adollsdarkdiary

#smau #rafe cameron #obx #obxsmau #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #boyfriend rafe #wicked game #frat boy!rafe #frat!rafe #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe obx

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poguelandiarafe · 7 months ago

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tough guy | rafe cameron

paring - rafe cameron x gf!reader

warnings - mentions of violence and getting stabbed

summary - rafe is telling you, topper and kelce about his day and brings up the fact he got into yet another fight. you don't like this so decide to put him in his place, knowing you're the only one who can (not set in any particular season).

masterlist

--------

to anyone else, dating rafe cameron would be scary, a struggle even. he's a man known for his reputation and will do anything to uphold it. whenever he enters a room all eyes are on him and it amazes you how he commands such attention without any effort at all. his features are strong and bold, just like his personality, and it's this that drew you in in the first place. the way he kept everyone at a distance, not letting anyone in.

except you.

you love a challenge and were determined to be let into his world. you're headstrong, stubborn, and know exactly what you want in life, stopping at nothing to get it. you're hot too, of course, but it's your determination that rafe thinks made him fall for you. it's like he's dating himself your personalities are so similar.

and you love to push his buttons, calling him out on whatever dumb shit he does.

--------

you're sitting on the sofa at tannyhill, rafe's arm slung over your shoulder to keep you next to him as he rambles on about another reckless thing he's done today. topper and kelce are scattered around the living room, taking turns to finish the joint you don't want anymore, listening to rafe. they're seemingly invested in whatever he's saying whereas you sit there scrolling through instagram, paying barely any attention to him.

"and then he pulled a knife on me," he laughs, "was fucking crazy."

your ears perk up, throwing his arm off your shoulder and sitting up to properly look at him. he looks at you briefly before going to carry on what he was saying but you cut him off.

"are you fucking crazy?" you ask, finger poking into his chest.

the room goes silent. topper and kelce freezing, in shock you spoke to rafe like that without him immediately shouting at you.

his eyes narrow at you and his brows furrow, "no? what's that meant to mean?"

"you were reckless, rafe. you can't start throwing punches every chance you get. jj literally pulled a fucking knife on you and you're here laughing about it." you say, voice raising from anger.

"you don't tell me what to do." rafe says, jaw clenched from being spoken to like that in front of his friends.

you match his intense stare, "i think i have every right to if you're putting yourself in a situation where you could die."

"he tried to sink my boat, i'm not just letting that shit slide! it's not like he'd actu-" he starts before you cut him off.

"don't you dare say he wasn't serious! what if he was, huh?" you snap, getting up and standing in front of him, "what if he actually stabbed you and i got a phone call saying you were in hopsital or that your body had been found? then what?"

it's quiet for a moment, rafe thinking over what you said. he feels guilty now, not really thinking about the consequences if something were to actually have happened, his adrenaline having clouded his rational judgement at the time.

"alright, alright. i get it baby. i'm sorry." he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

"you're not invincible just because you're rafe cameron. i don't want anything to happen to you."

he stands up, pulling you into him but you don't budge, arms crossed over your chest.

"i'm sorry for being reckless," he whispers into your hair, before he smirks, "but don't act like you don't love that i'm rafe cameron."

you roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around him now, "not when you're acting like this, i don't. just... promise to cool it. it hurts me when you come home covered in blood and bruises from yet another fight you've been in."

"okay, i promise i'll try. you're lucky you're hot." he mutters.

"you're lucky i put up with your shit." you counter, a smile on your lips.

while you and rafe were busy arguing, topper and kelce were silently smoking the joint, sharing looks every so often as they listened in.

"how does she get away with speaking to him like that?" topper whispers to kelce in disbelief.

"i have something he can't live without." you quip with a wink, overhearing him.

"okay, gross." kelce says.

"his words." you shrug.

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my-castles-crumbling · 5 months ago

Text

key - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - TW: mentions of walburga and orion's A+ parenting - word count: 463

“This is useless,” Regulus hissed, nearly-flinging himself in a chair and placing his head in his hands. “It’s impossible, Potter. It’s just…not going to happen. Thanks for trying, or whatever, but you can give up. Tell the professor you’ve worked off your detentions and moved on.”

From a few feet away, the older boy sighed, trying to dispel the annoyance from his body. “Reg. You’re one of the most talented people I know. I know you can do it, alright? The key is to focus on that happy memory, and just…let the Patronus build off of it.”

At this, Regulus gave him an icy look. “And what happy memory would you suggest, Potter? The time I was five and my mother screamed at me until I cried? How about when I was ten, and my father hit me so hard I had a bruise for two weeks? Or maybe over the summer, when both of my parents told me they would kill me if I ever tried to marry a man?”

Both boys stared at each other, shocked by Regulus’s confession. But after a moment, James swallowed and tried to focus. His brain was a swirl of thoughts, and as he cast around for something to say, he spoke without fully thinking through the consequences. “What about the other night?”

Gray eyes narrowed, and James felt a zing of nerves shoot through his body. “What about it?”

They hadn’t spoken about the way they’d run into each other a few nights ago in the middle of the night. How they could have nodded to each other and moved on, or even tried to get each other in trouble, but instead chose to walk together, talking about anything and everything, their hands brushing together, until the sun rose.

“It was…well, it’s a happy memory for me,” the Gryffindor murmured, feeling like he was facing a dragon.

Regulus stared at him for what felt like a lifetime before standing and raising his wand. For one fleeting moment, James thought maybe the other boy was going to hex him, but then he murmured, “Expecto patronum!”

For the first time, silver mist burst from the tip, illuminating the entire classroom. It wasn’t a full Patronus, but it was a huge improvement.

When Regulus stopped casting, he turned to James, eyes wide with excitement and surprise. Something the Gryffindor couldn’t name hung in the air, and everything in him wanted to take a step closer, to pull Regulus in his arms, to bury his face in his hair and congratulate him.

But instead, he said softly, “That was amazing, Reg. I knew you could do it.”

And Regulus gave him the most stunning, genuine, disarming smile he’d ever seen. “Thanks, James.”

He fell asleep thinking of that smile.

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xshadowdelta · 10 months ago

Text

FORMER MANAGER

PART 3: Crazy.

Kim Chaewon x Male Reader (3.7k length)

The rays of sunlight streaming through the window and illuminating the bedroom made you wake up. You felt sleepy and tired, when you sat up in bed you noticed how all your muscles were feeling pain from the big effort that your whole body had made the night before.

A thin sheet covered the lower half of your body. From the waist up, you were completely naked, you could see some scratches and slight wounds on your arms. You assumed that your back was in worse condition, but you had no way to confirm it.

You got out of bed wearing some simple boxers, and as soon as you stood up, your legs wobbled. God, if only the night had ended in the shower, but no, Eunbi was not satisfied with just that, you both had to take the party back to bed, making that shower in something totally useless.

The owner of your thoughts burst into the room while you picked up your clothes scattered on the bedroom floor. Smiling, happy and unlike you without traces of consequences of the turbulent night experienced. Moving from side to side, in and out of the bathroom getting ready and getting dressed, making you seriously doubt how bad your physical condition was at that moment.

She came up to you, while you were still putting on your shoes to finish dressing, and placed a soft kiss on your forehead that made you raise your head and face her.

“Did you sleep well?”

“As much as I could.” You replied, standing next to her.

“It's not that I want to kick you out or anything, but I have work, you know?”

“Yeah of course, I understand, do you want me to take you?” She shook her head.

“My manager will come pick me up right away, don’t worry.” She approached you with a mischievous smile.

"And relax, I don't do anything with him that I did with you." She whispered in your ear, making you blush.

“Listen to me, last night was…”

“It was fantastic, but it was wrong and should not be repeated?” That made you frown. “I assumed you would say it, you told that to Yuri too, right?”

“Yes, but…”

“Now you listen to me.” She interrupted you again. “There was nothing wrong with what we did. I wanted it, you wanted it and we both enjoyed it, no problem except that you're too cute to be around girls like us.”

You sighed tiredly, you knew that when she got into that mood there was no person or argument in the world that would make her change her mind, stubbornness typical of a leader.

"Besides if it really pricks your conscience and you think it was that bad..." She took a few steps in your direction. “Next time, I'm sure you'll resist…” She whispered, touching your lips in a sensual kiss.

And you were weak, extremely weak and helpful, very helpful, you were always there to satisfy whatever your girls needed, and it doesn't seem like you were going to make exceptions now.

“Can I at least trust that no one will know about this?”

“It is my career as an idol that is at stake, of course no one will know… no one from the outside at least…”

"What do you mean?"

“Well…” She whirled around playfully. “Girls may already know.”

“NOONA!”

This situation only became more and more complicated, you had to stop all of this immediately because it was no longer just your job that was at stake, now the girls' professional careers as well.

Your fear was no longer being discovered by someone from the company but by someone from the press. You hadn't been in the industry for many years, but you knew perfectly how it worked. Scandals like this one have destroyed other idols in the past.

On the other hand, idols relationships were practically an open secret, they were still human, and despite having to act with special caution regarding some specific topics, they should not deprive themselves about anything.

The sound of your phone chased away all those thoughts, the light was constantly flashing, a sign that you had a new message. Strange since due to the short time you had been in the country, very few people had your contact beyond the staff of your company, and that was your day off.

You unlocked it and were surprised to read, 'Kim Chaewon sent you a new message.' True, the night before you had exchanged contacts with the girls.

'Good morning oppa! I remembered that today you had the day off, I need your help with some things, can you help me please? I'll wait for you.’

Along with the message, she shared a location, which after opening with the map application on your phone, you discovered that it was the Hybe building. You felt a sudden pressure. It is really okay for you to go there?

However, you didn't take long to respond to her message, 'On my way.' You were too helpful when it came to these girls.

“And this is where all the magic happens.” You laughed when you heard that phrase when she opened the door to the LE SSERAFIM practice room, after giving you a short tour of the building.

“It's like three times bigger than it was years ago.” You talked to yourself by observing everything around you.

“What can I say? I'm a superstar." She said with superiority, shaking the dust off her shoulders.

“Whatever you say, Miss Superstar.” You scoffed. “Well, what was that I had to help you with?”

"Personal opinion." She said cheerfully clasping her hands together. You stared at her, somewhat confused.

“In a couple of days, we will release a new comeback, everything is ready: the album, photobook, b-sides, performances, and stages. But I would like to have an honest opinion from someone outside before I start promoting.” She explained sitting on the couch.

"I see…"

She pointed, lightly tapping with her hand, to the spot on the sofa that was free next to her. You sat in there, and she lent you her mobile phone, where she played the unreleased MV of her new song. You watched it, paying attention to all the possible details, although somewhat overwhelmed, because Chaewon practically above you, inches away, kept an eye on your reactions.

“And?” She asked somewhat anxiously once you were done with the visualization.

“It's...different, but it definitely has its addictive point.

"What about me?"

"You? Impeccable as always, Chaewon.”

“Oppa please, you must be more critical, otherwise I won't be able to improve.” She said this, throwing a small tantrum.

“Chaewon, I don't understand anything about music production, dance, or anything like that. I can only speak to you as a fan, and I really like what I've seen here.”

You watched her puff out her cheeks adorably, snatching the electronic device from your hands with a huff of annoyance as she was typing something.

"What are you doing?" You asked, but the only answer you got was how she stacked the phone screen over your face. You pulled back a bit, so your eyes could focus on what she was showing you now.

“Now, look at this.” She said it, still with an annoyed tone in her voice.

You picked up the phone again, it was a fancam, focused solely on Chaewon, from one of the songs she had previously promoted. You pressed the play button and started watching the video.

Right away, you recognized the song, it was good, and you liked it enough to have had it on loop at the moment it came out. But it had one small bad part, the choreography. Seeing in certain seconds how Chaewon shook her butt to the rhythm of the music while she looked intensely at you was definitely uncomfortable.

You looked away just as that part came, but you instantly felt a stab of pain in your arm. You looked over at Chaewon, who was pinching the skin on your arm.

“Don't stop looking.” She recriminated. You knew what her temper was like and that it was best to obey her, so your eyes returned to the screen.

“What do you think?” Her voice now left her mouth in a whisper, moving closer to you. You didn't answer, you were trying to find the right answer.

“My ass is also addictive, right?” She whispered next to your ear, her hand was starting to rub over your pants, right in your crotch area.

"Chaewon, what are you doing?" You asked, tense, without looking away from the video, totally hypnotized.

“I worked really hard for that performance…” Her hand slipped directly under your pants, freeing your slightly hard penis.

“C-C-Chaewon…”

"Shhh, just enjoy my fancam, oppa." She placed a kiss on your cheek before starting to massage your cock.

You let out a moan, noticing how your cock throbbed and grew bigger and bigger under her small hand until it reached its maximum size, making her exclaim a moan of surprise.

“Oppa, you are huge!” She commented, biting your earlobe as her hand ran up and down the length of your cock at a sensual but damn slow pace.

"Fuck Chaewon, it's your ass that's huge." The girl smiled as she saw how you couldn't take your eyes off the video.

She suddenly increased the pace of masturbation when the video ended, and she reached out her hand to press the play button again, but you were faster and went ahead of her, causing her to giggle.

"Impatient."

“Capricious.” Both of you were looking each other, lost into those eyes that seemed to speak to you, and without a single word you understood each other, joining your lips in a rough and wild kiss.

Her other hand moved to your balls, playing with them, which seemed to have regained their full capacity after the long night that Eunbi had subjected them to. Even you yourself were surprised by it.

You observed the expression on her face once you separated from her, she still had her eyes closed and a satisfied smile on her lips. Now, with both hands around your huge shaft, stroking it non-stop, trying to squeeze you out.

She got on her knees on her spot on the couch, crouching over your lap, bringing her face closer to your penis to give your tip a shy lick. Another moan left your mouth, which was joined by a set of them when her hand went up in an agonizing manner by the length of your cock, almost closing over your tip, that was already dripping with pre-seminal fluid, which was licked off by Chaewon's tongue.

You held the Smartphone with one hand to direct your free hand to her ass, which stood out as she was in that position. Massaging for a while and giving her a hard spank that echoed throughout the practice room.

As a result, Chaewon's movements became more frantic, with her hands completely wrapping the length of your cock, rubbing as much as she could while your moans accompanied the rhythm.

The video ended again and stayed with the image of the thumbnail with Chaewon's face as a screensaver. She moved your hand that was holding the device and brought it over your cock, giving you a few harder strokes, making you cum and letting out a stream of cum on her face projected on the screen.

“Fuck Chaewon…that was intense.” You said, breathing heavily with your eyes closed, catching your breath.

You felt her move on the sofa, snatching the phone, now sticky and slippery, from your hands. Given that, you opened your eyes to see her straddling over your lap. Her eyes were radiating lust and desire.

She showed you again how her face, in the image of that fancam, was completely covered by your cum, and she gave the screen of her Smartphone a sensual and slow lick, cleaning it and absorbing every drop of cum on it.

Witnessing that scene was super hot, like the atmosphere that had become around you in that room. Chaewon grabbed her small bag on the couch, took something out of it, and threw it away along with the cell phone. She showed you the condom she had taken out of the bag, and your heart pounded.

“Are we safe here?” You asked, realizing the place you were in. Damn, you were going to fuck Chaewon in the fucking Hybe building, you had lost your mind.

“I got the practice room for myself today, there are no security cameras here.” She whispered against your lips.

“What about that one?” You pointed your head to the area where there was a pile of technological elements, among which was a small recording camera with a tripod that they used to record themselves and later analyze their failures and things to improve.

“Do you want us to record what is about to happen?” And as much as you would have liked to, plus the curiosity that filming that would give you, you shook your head.

"Maybe next time."

Next time? Of course, because you were already sure there would be a next time. You didn't know if it would be with Chaewon, Eunbi, Yuri or who else would join this game. Because you had to be stupid not to realize that this was more than planned by all of them, it seemed like some kind of internal competition, and you were the prize.

Even trying to deny yourself with all your might, the part of your brain that was dedicated to controlling your impulses and emotions had completely lost control in a matter of less than one fucking day. Now your devilish part controls you, behaving like an animal in heat. Regardless of the consequences, the only thing that ran through your mind was giving Chaewon the best orgasm of her life.

The girl with short hair opened the condom wrapper and placed it around your erect cock, then she stood on the couch to pull down her leggings, exposing that butt that you had admired so much minutes ago.

Your hands quickly traveled to her buttocks, massaging and worshiping them. She was still standing on the couch, sighing at your touch, while she took off her shirt, and you took the opportunity to fill her belly with kisses.

She grabbed your face with both hands, forcing you to look up and meet her gaze. You brought your hands to her hips, and she began to descend slightly, taking your cock in her hand and aligning it with the entrance to her pussy.

You stared at each other without blinking during those seconds that seemed eternal. The tip of your cock collided with her pussy, beginning to penetrate it, drawing a moan from Chaewon.

You caressed her hips, her arms, and her back as she stayed in that position. You moved closer to kiss her lips, softly and lovingly.

"Ready?"

She nodded, dropping onto your lap, making her pussy take in the entirety of your cock in one fell swoop. She screamed, leaning against your chest, and you completely surrounded her with your arms, hugging her.

When she got used to having your huge penis inside her, she separated herself a few centimeters, starting to move, acquiring a slow rhythm at first but accelerating as time went by.

Chaewon was now jumping on your cock with strength and energy. You could feel your cock reaching her stomach on every decent, and you helped her go even deeper.

Her moans transformed into screams of passion. She was being filled by you with every thrust, and it seemed to not be enough for her, she was totally intoxicated by lust and was letting herself be carried away by pleasure.

The sounds of your bodies colliding together, along with your moans, destroyed any kind of silence there might be in that room. Soon, the festival of lascivious sounds would be joined by the palm of your hand hitting her buttocks and her desperate screams begging for more.

“Please, oppa, make my ass hurt, it deserves to receive a beating.” At this point, her butt was already red, but you just wanted to fulfill her wish, and you spanked her harder.

"You're still my bratty girl, I can't deny you anything." You said, intertwining the fingers of your hands with hers.

She gritted her teeth tightly, once again burying your cock directly into her womb, a trail of saliva beginning to leak from her mouth.

"Oppa, your bratty girl wants to cum!" She screamed, raising her hips in a desperate attempt to reach orgasm.

“Hold on just a little longer, Chaewon, do it for oppa.” You moaned, grabbing her hips and moving yours at a strong pace, pounding her pussy like an animal, causing her eyes to turn white.

“OH MY GOD, OPPA!” Her entire body trembled because of your thrusts.

The rudeness that this whole situation was taking was slipping out of your hands, the sweet and pretty Kim Chaewon that you once knew was now just a piece of meat that you were being used for your own enjoyment.

You hugged her again, pressing her against your body, hers continued to rise and fall constantly, touching your lips every moment. Tears and sobs began to come out of the girl's eyes and mouth. You kissed her sweetly and she reciprocated immediately.

“You did very well Chaewon, let's get you that orgasm…” You said, thrusting into her again with all your strength.

Her body reacted to your moves and fought against yours, it practically seemed like a fight in which neither of you wanted to give in and the first to cum would lose.

A naughty finger traveled to her ass, entering into her small hole making her open her mouth muffling a squeal, now that finger was going in and out of her ass at the same time that your cock was doing the same movement in her pussy.

Chaewon gripped the sofa, placing her hands on either side of your head, her body was already moving by inertia and instinct, her brain had long been overwhelmed by excess pleasure.

She lay on your chest crying, yelling a few insults at you and giving in to the pleasure, curving her back and letting out a large stream of fluids from her pussy.

Her body trembled against yours, which is why you hugged her, caressing her hair, trying to calm her down. Even without being fully recovered, she looked for your member with her hands, found it and took off the condom to masturbate you again.

You lifted her chin with your hand, kissing her again while her grip grew stronger as she regained energy, stroking your cock more and more roughly until you too succumbed and let out another large load of semen that spread across the sofa and part of the floor of the practice room that Chaewon did not hesitate to lick and clean immediately.

Once she left everything clean and swallowed your cum, she climbed back onto your lap, resting there for a while.

“I love being oppa's spoiled girl.” She closed her eyes, guiding one of your hands to her cheek so you could caress it.

“You all girls are.” You said, causing her to open her eyes and look at you angrily.

"I do more!" That made you laugh.

“Hmm, I think I had Wonyoung more spoiled than I had you.” She sat up angrily, making you laugh harder, you kissed her again, trying to calm her down.

“I'm the best for oppa.” She said between kisses surrounding your neck.

Suddenly, knocks were heard at the door of the room, making both of you jump in your seats in surprise and fear.

“Chaewon unnie!” was heard from the other side of the door. Chaewon jumped off the couch, recognizing that voice.

“Kazuha?”

Both of you dressed as quickly as you could, fixing your entire appearance, trying to hide what had happened there. You hid the used condom, and Chaewon sprayed some fragrance around the room to camouflage the smell of sex.

Still fixing her hair, Chaewon opened the door, seeing her member.

“What are you doing here, Zuha? Did something happen?” The leader asked with some concern.

“Our dance trainer said she wanted to discuss something last minute with you, before starting promotions for the new album, so she asked me to come to notify you.” Chaewon sighed in relief for a moment until she remembered that you were still there with her.

"Unnie, who is he?" The japanese girl asked, entering the room and looking at you.

"Oh! He's an old friend of mine, we were just having a little chat." She lied, trying to sound as real as possible.

“But I guess we should continue this talk in another time, it looks like you have a job to do now.” You commented without ignoring the fact that Kazuha still didn't look away from you.

“I guess so.” Chaewon sighed tiredly. “Okay oppa, we'll be in touch, okay? See you." She said goodbye with her hand, leaving the room.

You saw how she disappeared, and you thought it was time to leave too, you bowed to Kazuha and she responded in the same way, and you headed for the exit.

“Can I ask you something?” Kazuha's voice stopped you instantly.

"Sure, what do you need?" You asked, turning to look at her.

“Old friend means you are Chaewon unnie’s boyfriend?” You blushed at that question because of how no hesitation she had in asking that.

“No, no, we're just friends, for real.” A cute smile forms on her face.

"Then…"

Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets, and your face was totally flushed at her request. Had you heard wrong?

“Excuse me, but can you repeat that?”

The girl also blushed and looked embarrassed at the practice room floor before whispering again.

“Can you have sex with me the same way you did with Chaewon unnie?”

#kpop smut #male reader #smut #izone smut #chaewon smut #lesserafim smut

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