#Love The Way You Lie (Part II) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

serpentandlily · 7 months

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Untouchable - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand's Sister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ �� ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part I

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Your heart was twisting in your chest, a sick feeling curling in the pit of your stomach, as you hurried down the dimly lit hallways of the River House. You held a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to break loose and the bile that stung the back of your throat. You could do it, you could hold it in. At least until you got back to your room. And then you’d be free to cry and cry and cry as much as you wanted to.

You had spent years trying to bury your feelings for the shadowsinger. What had started out as a harmless crush on your older brother’s friend when you were just a girl had blossomed into true, real feelings since you had come of age. But despite your best efforts, Azriel still never seemed to notice you. Not like that anyways.

Him and Cassian had adored you the moment you had entered their life as just a babe and the sister of their best friend. You had been born during a time of peace, decades after the war. The three of them had been nearing two-hundred. They had watched you grow into the female you were today. Had been there through your toughest years after watching your mother brutally murdered in front of you at the age of thirteen, barely saved before your own life was taken.

It was a good thing Rhys had become High Lord before the time you reached eighteen or your father would’ve had you married off, no doubt for some political alliance. You had hoped your brother would’ve given you a role in his court once you were of age but after almost losing you, he had become increasingly protective.

So instead of being sent on missions, or used as an emissary, you spent most of your time volunteering in Velaris—helping to build the sanctuary into what it was today. You had eventually stopped arguing with your brother to loosen up his hold on you when he had broken down crying in front of you simply at the thought of you never returning if he was to send you out in the world.

And how could you complain when Velaris had been your cage? So you learned to play your role, for him, for your brother. The pretty little sister of the High Lord. Never known for anything but your beauty. The beauty that had males sending your father marriage propositions since the age of ten.

But there had only ever been one person you wished would see you that way. And he never had. You had to watch him pine after your own cousin for centuries. Never once looking your way. You feared he’d only ever see you as that little girl—the one who used to climb all over them at the cabin, the one who had the three males wrapped around her finger since she had been born.

Only ever just a girl in his eyes.

And you had made peace with that, as much as it hurt to be looked over by the one person you wanted the most. It still bothered you to watch his eyes track Mor all the time, to stare at her in a way he would never look at you. You had made peace with that…until tonight.

You couldn’t lie to yourself and say you hadn’t seen the shift in him when he started looking after the middle Archeron sister. You had once believed he only had eyes for Mor, and it had brought you some solace in knowing that might be the only reason he had never looked your way.

But then Elain showed up and those affections shifted from Mor to her. Suddenly he was always with her, spending hours in the gardens with Elain. Staring at her the way he would stare at Mor. Your heart had started crumbling all over again with the realization that he could move on from Mor, could fall for someone other than her—and it hadn’t been you.

You had left your bed chambers tonight to fetch a glass of water from the kitchens but nothing could’ve prepared you for what you would’ve walked in on. You had smelt them before you opened the doors. Azriel’s cedar and night-chilled mist and Elain’s sweet jasmine and honey.

You should’ve left then but something had compelled you to open the kitchen doors just a hair.

And there they were. Elain seated on the counter, Azriel between her legs. Her skirt has been pushed up to her thighs, his hands tangled in her hair, as they kissed like two starved animals.

You were lucky you had spent years learning how to keep a strong mask like your brother, for it allowed you to slip away without them ever noticing you.

You finally made it to your room, shutting the door and locking it behind you. You were grateful for the sound wards you had put up because the minute you stepped over that threshold you collapsed into a heap on the floor as heart-wrenching sobs erupted from your lips.

It felt like you had been stabbed in the heart with a million knives, like someone had gutted you and twisted your insides. It hurt so much to think that Azriel would never want you the way you wanted him. He didn’t want you. He didn’t crave your presence the way you did his. He didn’t want to touch you the way you wanted to touch him. He just didn’t want you.

And he never would.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“Send me somewhere,” you said, pressing your palms onto your brother’s desk as you stared at him right in the eyes—the eyes you shared. “Anywhere, I don’t care. Just send me somewhere.”

Rhys frowned, his eyebrows pinching together. “What has gotten into you? Did something happen?”

You let out a sigh, collapsing in one of the armchairs. You couldn’t tell him the real reason you wanted to leave. It was embarrassing. “Nothing happened. I’m just…tired of being cooped up here. Please, Rhys. It doesn’t even have to be far—just please.”

“Where is this coming from, y/n? You haven’t asked this in years. I thought you were happy here.”

“I am happy here. But I want to see the world, Rhys. And we’re finally in a time of peace. So let me, please.”

Rhys’s eyes narrowed, taking in your appearance. The slightly swollen eyes, the dark circles, the haphazard way you had braided your hair this morning. “Did…did someone hurt you? Did someone do something to you?”

“What? No!” A lie of course. But what could you say? Azriel had hurt you but it wasn’t like it was his fault. It wasn’t like he owed you anything.

“You know you can always talk to me about anything. Right, dove?” The use of his nickname for you nearly caused the tears you were fighting back to escape.

“Of course, Rhys. But I promise you. No one did anything to me. Please. The war is finally over and I think I’ve spent enough of my life here. I want to see what the rest of the world has to offer.”

Rhys’s head fell in his hands. “I-I don’t think I can let you go, dove. I’m sorry but I can’t bear it…I can’t bear not having you here where I can protect you.”

“It’s not fair!” You shouted, standing up. “I’m not a child anymore—I’m nearly three hundred years old for Gods sake! I’m suffocating here, Rhysie. Please.”

“Rhys,” Feyre said softly, placing a tattooed hand on her mate’s shoulder. “Perhaps it is time you let y/n make her own choices. You promised me you’d always give me a choice—would always let me decide what to do with my life. Why can’t that apply to your sister?”

You shot her a grateful look, hoping she would make him see reason. Rhys stayed silent and you knew he had been struck by her words. “I can go to Mor, on the continent. Then you don’t have to worry about me being alone. I can help her try to form alliances there.”

Still he said nothing but judging by Feyre’s narrowed eyes, you could tell they were having an argument mentally. You wiped your sweaty palms on your dress, wishing that he would listen to his mate about this. If anyone could talk Rhys into something, it was her.

It felt like an eternity went by before your brother finally looked up at you. His eyes were full of sadness and guilt and you knew in that moment, you had won.

“Fine, fine. But you will go to Mor in Vallahan and stay with her the whole time. You will listen to her at all times and never go anywhere alone. And you will write me twice a week,” Rhys growled. “And I swear, y/n, if you even miss one letter, I will come get you myself. Those are my rules—take it or leave it.”

A genuine smile bloomed on your face as you jumped to your feet and ran around the desk to embrace your brother in your arms. “Thank you, Rhys! Thank you! I promise I’ll do as you say. I promise.”

He held you tightly as if he never wanted to let go and you peered at Feyre from over his shoulders to mouth her a small ‘thank you’.

This was it. You’d finally be able to leave this city after three hundred years. Finally see the world! And most importantly: be far, far away from the shadowsinger that had won your heart but fallen for another.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Three months went by in the blink of an eye. You had spent the entire time traveling with Mor from Vallahan to Montesere, where you two had just settled down when Rhys had contacted you both, asking for your return home. Apparently he had big news to share but he wanted to do it in person. So now you were packing up your things, getting ready to return back to Velaris for the first time since you had left.

It had been annoying how much you thought of Azriel still. But it was getting easier to ignore the longer you were away. You hoped those feelings would eventually disappear entirely—but every time you thought of moving on, something in your chest would ache and ache.

That didn’t mean you hadn’t taken lovers in your time here. It had always been hard to find males to mess around with in Velaris considering they all knew who your brother was. The last thing they wanted was for Rhys to come looking for them after sleeping with you. So you’d only taken a few lovers here and there throughout the years.

But on the continent, no one knew who you were. Had no idea that you were the younger sister of one of Prythian’s High Lords. And Mor had been sure to teach you all the ways to have someone wrapped around your finger. You had never felt so confident in yourself as you did now. Finally becoming the female you wanted to be without your brother or the two other bats watching you over your shoulder. It was exhilarating.

But the thought of returning home had dampened some of your newfound joy. You were worried about slipping into your old role—being that sweet, pretty, little accessory they all expected you to be.

You wouldn’t allow that. You couldn’t. Not after having a taste of what it could be like if you became the female you always dreamed you’d be. Someone who knew she was desired for more than just her looks. Someone interesting. Someone smart and witty. Someone brave. You tried to ignore the part of you that hoped Azriel might see those things in you now.

“Are you ready to go, y/n?” Mor asked, leaning against the doorframe of your room.

You took one last look at yourself in the floor length mirror. You were wearing a dress that was typical of what they wore here in Montesere. If you could even call it a dress. It was white, the bodice dipping into a v-shape and clinging to your body with gold embellishments and blue gems decorating it. It had long sleeves that connected to a hood, stitched in glimmering gold. It cut off right under your breasts, exposing your toned stomach until just slightly passed your belly button.

The skirt was held up by two thin gold straps that criss-crossed over the sides of your hips to connect it to the top part of the dress. The skirt itself traveled to the floor and had two long slits on either side to show off your legs. The white color complimented your tanned skin and the kohl you had lined your eyes with made the violet color of your eyes glimmer even brighter.

You had left your hair down in soft curls, only pinning back two strands on either side of your face with some gold pins. More than happy with the way you looked, you turned back to Mor with a grin.

“I’m ready to go home.”

#acotar #azriel #fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #angst #rhysand sister #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x female!reader #acotar fanfiction #shadowsinger x reader #acosf #post war

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1-800-kami · 8 months

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R U MINE? feat gojo satoru (II)

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it.

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: this is part TWO (and the final part) of the r u mine? mini series. make sure to read part one of this fic before proceeding! :)

content: 5.4k words, afab!reader, rich college frat boy gojo, SMUT (fingering & unprotected sex.. wrap it before u tap it kids!) ANGST, (i listened to deftones while writing the breakup era LMAOO i was in my feels 😔) gojo "everything reminds me of her" satoru is really going thru it, idk how to feel about the ending tbh, cheating implications, kinda proofread ig, more emo gojo (u luv to see it)

author's note: guys. where do i even start?? first of all, thank u for all the support on the first part of this mini series!! we also hit 100 followers on this blog so tysm for supporting me n my writing <3 here's the long awaited part two (n also the finale) as i promised that i would get it out over the weekend! just a quick announcement that i may be a little bit more inactive from here on out.. mainly because classes r starting again nd im starting to get busier. i do have more fic plans though, (and a geto smut in my drafts? 👀) so i'll make time to write when i can! happy reading and thank u for all the support on this silly little series :)

tags: @soley613 @feariteriu @bear-likes-mushrooms @96jnie @keilaq1 @whydohumansss @luftyluft @fatbootymuncher (bold = i'm unable to tag u)

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

everything’s been hazy.

you don’t really remember how you got home– you either waved down a cab or walked until you somehow found your house. either way, the alcohol is worsening the pounding in your ears. the straps of your dress are clinging terribly against your skin–you want to take it off, you want to wear something more comfortable, you want to just go to sleep, preferably forever… but you can’t bring yourself to.

you can’t even bring yourself to move.

so the rumors really were true? but why did gojo pursue so far just for you? why did gojo say those words to you when you spent the night together? why did gojo try so hard to convince you that night that he wanted to have sex with you because he loved you–and not solely because he wanted to have sex?

why did gojo lie to you?

another series of pings sound throughout the room, and you finally move to silence your phone. the noise is all so overwhelming. why the hell is your phone blowing up?

you check your notifications–mostly dms from people you don’t know, either asking if you and satoru were dating, or questioning you about what the hell happened at the party. you know that you’re gonna be the subject of gossip once you’re back at campus, and you hate it.

you were surprised at the numbers once you scrolled down your notification list a little further. ten missed calls from satoru, accompanied by a series of fifteen panicked messages. you open it, and you stare sadly at his contact photo and name, remembering the fond memory behind it. once you two actually started dating, you were merciful enough to add a heart next to his name, and even updated it to “toru”. he was elated at that.

you think you can barely even call him gojo now.

the most recent message was barely sent a minute ago. like it was on cue, you see the bright headlights pull up outside of your door. you wanted to sink into your couch and never resurface ever again.

you hear suguru’s car door open and close, and then frantic knocking outside. you walk to the door while sniffling, looking through the peephole just to confirm your suspicions. it was satoru.

“i can hear you crying through the door, y/n. i know you’re there.” he takes a deep inhale, and the tears start rolling down your cheeks again once you hear the complete and utter vulnerability in his voice. you just don’t know what to believe anymore. “shit, i’m crying too. well, i’m gonna explain myself even if you don’t care enough to listen to me. uhm, believe it or not, what happened at the party wasn’t my doing… at all. when you went to use the bathroom, this girl went up to me and started flirting with me, like she was waiting for you to leave or somethin’. i was g’na tell her to go fuck off but she pushed herself on my lap and before i could do anything about it you walked in and it was just all horrible timing and- god. i know it sounds unbelievable, right? you must think i’m terrible right now.”

“you don’t have to believe me. if i were in your shoes i wouldn’t know what to think either. i’m just… explaining what happened.”

there’s a long period of silence between you and satoru, aside from the occasional sniffling on both ends. you don’t know what to say. you want to believe him. you want to do nothing more than to open the door and let him hold you in his arms again, but you just don’t know what to think anymore. you poured your entire heart out to a man who you knew you shouldn’t be messing with, and now you don’t know who or what to believe. you feel like a fool, and you’re just tired. so damn tired. the silence feels asphyxiating, like it's tearing your relationship with satoru further and further apart the longer it draws on.

satoru is the first one to break the silence. “i’m guessing from the silent treatment that you don’t believe me. it’s okay, y/n. i’ll wait an eternity for you to forgive me because i’ll always choose you- fuck… over anything, and i hope you know that.”

your mind is a mess, and satoru’s words make it even messier.

i’ll wait an eternity for you

i’ll always choose you over anything

you put your head in your hands and sob. it hurts.

a minute passes–gojo hears you get up from where you’re sitting behind the door, and his heart fills with hope.

“i just… i just don’t know how to believe you, gojo.”

his heart breaks when he hears the door–presumably to your bedroom–open and close, leaving him alone with his shattered heart. his heart breaks when he takes in your voice, noticing how weak and exhausted you sounded. he wonders how much you’ve cried just from this past hour alone. his heart breaks once he realizes that he’s alone with his thoughts again, alone with the voice in his head that was berating him for not being able to prevent all of this if he hadn’t frozen up and just pushed her away the second that girl started flirting with him. finally, his heart breaks once it registers that you called him gojo–the last name that he shares with his corrupt and money-crazy family… the family he tries so hard to get away from. it was also the name you called him during the days that you barely trusted him.

now, he’s back to square one, and he has none of your trust again. this time, satoru swears that he’ll do anything in his power to get it back once more.

you didn’t come to school today.

there’s been nothing but radio silence on your end. gojo has sent you countless messages over the weekend asking how you’ve been, with the occasional desperate voicemail where he tells you that he loves and misses you. you’ve turned off your read receipts, so gojo doesn’t even know if you’ve seen his texts or listened to his voicemails. he’s concerned for you, even though he knows that he’s the reason behind all of this. he was hoping to talk things out with you today.. but you weren’t even here.

one thing gojo knew about you is that you cared deeply about your academics, and you wouldn’t miss attendance even if you were sick. it pains him to know that he was the reason that you weren’t here today. you were avoiding him, and he felt helpless.

he’s talked to geto—and the best advice that his best friend could offer was to “find proof that you didn’t cheat on her.” he’s right, though. the last thing you had said to gojo was that you don’t know how to believe if he’s telling the truth or not. gojo has absolutely no idea how to prove his fidelity to you, since words clearly weren’t enough. it frustrates him to no end.

gojo now knows that he feels absolutely lost. all when he’s not with you.

it feels nerve-wracking to walk the halls.

he remembers telling you the night that you slept together that he’d learned over time to drown out the rumors about him. he learned not to care about what other people thought about him, and he eventually became unaffected by the school’s gossip.

however, this time was different.

this time, he finds it difficult to drown out the rumors when he hears your name in them. he flinches every time someone whispers your name and his as he walks the halls, feeling that all eyes are on him. “i heard y/n and gojo broke up…” “they were dating?!” “yeah.. i didn’t believe it at first, either! apparently he…”

he doesn’t want to hear it, so he walks a little faster. it hasn’t felt this suffocating to be on campus in a while.

maybe that’s partially why you didn’t show up. rumors are hard to ignore if you don’t know how to shun them out.

gojo lets out a sigh. he decides that he’s going to ditch the rest of class. you weren’t here, he couldn’t talk to you, and he felt he was gonna go mad if he heard your name spoken by someone again, so he turns to leave, but flinches as he feels a hand lightly tap his shoulder.

“gojo-san?”

he turns around, with a girl that he’s never seen before standing in front of him… not that he pays attention to them in the first place, though. he raises his eyebrow in question, and the girl looks so nervous she might pass out. “i have to tell you something-“

“if it’s a love confession or whatever, i don’t want to hear it-“

“-no!” she flushes a deep shade of red, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes. she coughs awkwardly at his expression. “um, no.. it’s not that. please, just give me two minutes in the library. i have something to tell you.”

he decides to entertain this girl for a bit. he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious about what she had to talk to him for. gojo sighs and says, “two minutes. that’s all you’re getting.”

“this is about the party last friday, no?” he says while taking a seat near one of the tables. he feels sick just being here. he’d never gone to the library before meeting you–as he had no reason to go here at all. then, he started accompanying you everywhere as he tried to win your heart. “study dates” were frequent here, and he even remembers forcefully changing his contact name and number on your phone during one of your dates.

gosh, everything literally reminds him of you. he can barely live like this.

she takes a seat across from him, and she shamefully nods at his words. “i went to the party on friday, and i just want to say i’m sorry-”

gojo gets up to leave. he can’t do this. he doesn’t need anyone’s pity. pity can’t change the fact that you still won’t talk to him. she panics as gojo is about to walk away. “wait!”

the librarian tells her to quiet down, and she mutters an apology. still, she persists. “please, just wait for two minutes… i need two minutes to explain myself. you promised you’d give me that.”

she stares at gojo, who hasn’t left yet, and takes that as her opportunity to speak. “i was a friend of… her,” he doesn’t need an explanation to know who she was talking about. “the reason why she came up to you was because of a dare i told her to do. she’s had a crush on you for a while now, so of course she was willing to flirt with you.”

“um, that was the dare, by the way. my friend told me to record it, because we were all drunk, and we thought it would be funny. just another memory to laugh at in the future, right? we didn’t know you were dating the girl you were with at the party. sorry but, we assumed she was just a fling… or something… we didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”

“yeah, i was dating the girl at the party.” gojo scoffs, and he feels his anger bubbling up again. “then your friend had to do that stupid dare, and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.”

“i’m sorry-”

“i don’t need your apologies. is that why you came up to me? to apologize so you don’t feel guilty about what happened anymore?” gojo sneers. he was right, though. guilt is ridden all over her face, and she can’t even meet his eyes. he’s about to leave, thinking that this entire conversation was useless, but gojo thinks back on what she said earlier.

“...my friend told me to record it…”

he turns back to look at her, which surprises her, to say the least. “hey, you said you recorded the dare, right?”

“uhm, yes.”

“so you still have the video?”

“it should be in my camera roll somewhere-”

“if you came here to apologize to me, then you should send me that video.” she looked a little horrified at his words, and gojo could almost laugh. “what? i’m not gonna do anything bad with it, god.”

she thinks about what gojo’s intentions could be with that video, and her eyes light up in recognition as she connects the dots from what he said beforehand. i was dating the girl at the party… then your friend had to do that stupid dare… and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.

she nods in understanding. this is the least she could do for him. she pulls out her phone, looking for the video, and says, “i hope you two make up soon, gojo-san.”

gojo satoru walks- no, runs out of that library with determination. determination as he finally has the video evidence of what happened at the party–his saving grace so he could finally get you to forgive him.

you miss him.

you miss him like hell, actually, and you blink at the messages he just sent you in complete disbelief.

you didn’t show up to class today because you were afraid. you were afraid to see satoru again, yes, but you were also afraid of what everyone else would say about you. the party was one thing, but the after-effects and the rumors were something completely different. you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that, unlike satoru, so you stayed home. all because you were afraid of what would happen on campus.

you just wish things would go back to how they were before… all of this happened. you didn’t want to admit it, but you’ve read all of satoru’s messages, and you’ve listened to all of his voicemails. you’ve cried to them. and it hurts because you’re still torn apart in the midst of your own feelings. and now, satoru wants to talk to you, because he’s been wanting to do nothing but fix everything between the two of you.

the doorbell rings, and you almost jump out of your skin.

you didn’t even know if you would open the door or not. despite that, you felt your body moving on its own, like you were relying on your own instincts. you washed your face to get rid of the dried tears on your cheeks, brushed the tangles out of your hair, and dressed into something more presentable. the next thing you know, you’re leaning against the wall next to the front entrance. your shadow is visible underneath the door, so satoru knows that you’re here.

“hi, y/n..” he sounded so nervous that you almost laughed, but you felt equally as terrified as him. “i have something to show you… uh, on my phone. if you don’t want to see me, it’s fine, i’ll just send it to you, but i’d really prefer if you open the door and we’ll talk about this inside-”

your hand is already reaching the door knob before you can even think about it. it’s such an impulse decision that you look at him in surprise once you open the door. it’s the first time you’ve seen him ever since you were at the party. it’s only been three days, but you can’t help but notice how his eyebags are more prominent, his eyes are a little redder, and he looks nothing short of exhausted.

“hey,” he manages to breathe out, his eyes meeting yours. “can i come in? please?”

you nod, too stunned to say anything, and he exhales in relief as he walks in. the two of you sit on the couch, and gojo notices how you’re keeping your distance from him. it breaks his heart a little.

he looks for the video on his phone and gets ready to show it to you. this is it. his last ditch effort for your forgiveness. he’s really fuckin’ hoping that this works. “i got this video from a girl who came to the party. it’s a recording of, um, what happened.”

he hands the phone over to you, and you take it skeptically, still choosing to keep silent. you press play, and you watch the recording. a shaky hand holds the camera, and the person behind it says, “holy shit, she’s actually doing it!” they're presumably talking to their friend, and the camera focuses on a girl walking over to gojo. your heart is pounding, eyes widening in recognition as you stare at her... the one who caused all of this in the first place.

the all too familiar girl comes up to him, saying something out of earshot. when gojo looks at her, completely uninterested, she pulls that move. the scene you saw at the party before you ran out. tears fill your eyes again, and you almost want to stop the video, but your interest is piqued at the next part.

..this… this part was something that you didn’t see. gojo angrily reacts at the girl’s move, with her falling on the floor as she looks at him, stunned at how furious he looks. the person behind the camera gasps, continuing to record out of shock as a crowd of people turn to stare at the two. geto eventually comes into the frame and takes gojo away from all the chaos. the video ends there, and you grip gojo’s phone shakily.

holy shit.

tears roll down your face, but this time, they’re tears of relief. you waste no time in hugging satoru, crying your heart out as you bury your face in his neck. you’re happy. you’re so fucking happy, and so relieved knowing that he didn’t lie to you. of course he didn’t.

“m’sorry-” you sniffle into his shoulder. gojo is so shocked at what was happening that it takes him a second to hug you back, but when he does, he starts crying. “m’so fucking sorry i didn’t believe you-”

“shh, it’s okay, it’s okay…” he says, and you only hug him tighter. “m’so tired, you know that? these past three days fucking sucked. i’m just so glad you’re in my arms again, fuck-”

“-i love you, i love you, i love you so fucking much, toru.” you repeat, laughing as you kiss him all over his face. it’s been a while since you said that to someone. you wipe his never-ending tears away, still in disbelief, and whisper, “you’re real. right? you’re actually here with me right now ‘nd i’m not dreaming, right?

“i’m very much real, baby.” he says, putting his forehead against yours as you take in his features again. “god, i missed that pretty face so much.”

he finally closes the gap between you two, pulling you into a much needed kiss. it’s a kiss filled with so many emotions–desperation, happiness, relief. satoru thinks his heart is finally whole again. he’s missed you. he’s missed you so fucking much, and you’ve missed him too.

you’re like an anchor to satoru. the light of his life that keeps him grounded. and god, he’s been apart from you for too long.

you reposition yourself as you’re deepening the kiss. you’re on his lap now, and you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging on his hair in desperation. “oh yeah? ‘y gonna do anything about it?"

“of course i am,” he says, hands roaming underneath your shirt as he caresses your bare waist. fuck. he needs you. right now. especially after thinking that he was about to lose you forever–for something that he didn’t even do. “i’m gonna show you just how much i missed you, baby.”

gojo can’t let you go.

you’re in your bedroom, and both of you waste no time undressing each other. he takes you in–all of you, in awe of every crevice of your body as he trails his hands further down your waist.

god, you’re so beautiful. “i can’t believe i almost lost you.”

his words are shaky, like he’s still uncertain that you’re real and you’re in his arms again. he can’t seem to break himself away from you, almost like you’ll disappear if he lets you go. “but i’m here now, toru.”

“i’m here to stay, and i’ll never let you go again… ‘m yours,” you whisper, and your words set a fire in him, fueling his body with nothing but desperation. desperation to have you right here, and right now.

he wastes no time in plunging two of his fingers in your cunt, and he groans at just how wet you are. “satoru-”

“fuck, you’re so wet… and it’s all for me,” he mutters, spreading your legs effortlessly when you try to close them, thighs shaking in pure pleasure. he adds another finger, and you already feel stretched to the brim, and you haven’t even taken him in yet. the thought of his cock inside of you makes you even wetter than you already are, and you look up at satoru with eyes full of lust and desire. “missed you so much, baby. missed you and your pretty little cunny,”

his fingers are long, and you whine at how full you feel right now. you’re so loud, and you don’t even care. right now, it’s just you and satoru finally feeling each other again. it’s only been three days, but it feels like you’ve been apart for years.

everything about this was filthy. from your erotic moans and the way your cunt squelched against his fingers… not to mention the vice grip you had on them- fuck, satoru thinks he can cum untouched just from watching you like this.

“haa-” you whimper when his fingers curl and hit that spot in your cunt that you can barely seem to reach on your own. it’s exhilarating, and only fuels the growing heat in your stomach. “toru- don’t stop- please, i’m close-”

“really?” he taunts, and it feels so fucking good–your head is numb, and the only thoughts filling your head are thoughts of satoru. the pleasure is too much, and you try to get away from him, but he keeps you in place, curling his fingers faster as punishment. “don’t run away from me, baby… be a good girl and just take it, yeah?”

“toru- fuck- i’m gonna cum, please-” you’re on the brink of release, but suddenly, he stops, ruining your orgasm. “no- wait-”

he pulls his fingers out, and you whine at the loss of stimulation. you were so close–why did he take that away from you? you try and swat at his hands, but he just takes his fingers and puts them in his mouth, locking his eyes with yours with a sly smile. “you taste so sweet, i can’t help it,”

“aww, is my baby mad ‘cause she didn’t get to cum?” he coos sarcastically, caging you in between his arms as he tilts your face up with his finger. “too bad… the only thing you’re cumming on tonight is on my cock.”

and with that, he eases his painfully hard member into your walls. your insides hugged him perfectly–it was like you were made just for him. you gasp once he’s fully sheathed himself inside of you. his fingers were already a lot to take in, but his cock was something completely different. he moans your name, barely keeping his cool. “fuck- you’re squeezing me so tight,”

“missed everything about you, baby. i need to hold you, please,” he pleads desperately, clasping your small hands against his. the size difference alone between the two of you almost makes him cum, but he holds himself back, choosing to bask in this intimate moment. he’s missed every part about this. “you ready f’me?-”

“-just fuck me, satoru, please-” he doesn’t need another confirmation from you.

he can’t bring himself to hold back. next thing you know, he’s fucking you into the mattress, and you feel the headboard shake at how fast satoru is going. fuck–you feel every part of him, every part of his cock as it slams against your tight hole. he’s so big, you feel yourself gasping for breath, and you moan out loud as you notice the prominent bulge forming in your stomach. it’s him, it’s all him, and it’s driving you mad.

satoru follows your eyes in the midst of all of this, and he watches everything in fascination. he decides to be a little mean, and presses his free hand against your stomach–it feels so good, you could almost scream at the pleasure. “you feel that, baby? that’s all me inside of you, hmm?”

“please-” the onset of pleasure feels so overwhelming, and tears fill your eyes. you feel an oncoming orgasm coming, and you know your release will hit you like a tidal wave. your heart is pounding, but satoru only grips your hand tighter and fucks you even harder. “oh, fuck!”

“m close, baby. are you g’na cum too?” he manages to say between pants, and you somehow nod, mind hazy and your release only coming closer. you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “cum inside of me, toru- please- i need to feel you-”

gojo groans at your words, and you both cum together. you ride out your high, screaming as you spasm around his cock, the pleasure overfilling your senses until you’re trembling from it. he fills you up, staying inside of you as the two of you catch your breath. everything’s hazy, and you’re barely aware of your surroundings… it takes you a few minutes to recover.

“angel, are you with me?”

“yeah, fuck, just… give me a second.” you say, and gojo thinks that he would gladly give you all the time in the world if you needed it. he pulls out of you with a hiss, and his warm seed drips out of your cunny. it makes his cock twitch, but he knows that you’re probably not considering a round two right now.

when you come to your senses, you notice satoru–who put his clothes back on already, wiping your legs down with a rag. his touch is so soft, like he’s afraid to break you, unlike how he handled you just a moment ago. you look down and notice the bruises starting to form on your legs and waist. satoru looks guilty as he stares. “i didn’t go too rough with you, did i?”

“not at all,” you reassure him, and you see him soften up a little. “it felt really good, actually… thank you, toru.”

“s nothing. you know my girl only gets the best,” he teases, and you laugh. “i’m gonna go get you some new clothes and some water… i’ll be back, okay?”

you nod, closing your eyes again as satoru leaves the room. he’s back in two minutes, and he’s gently changing you into new clothes that he found in your drawer. you’re so tired that you can hardly move, so you let satoru do all the work. he caresses all of your bruises, apologizing again even if you already said that it was okay. he’s so gentle, a swift juxtaposition to what just happened beforehand, and so soft with you. once you’re clothed again, he brings a glass of water against your lips, and you greedily gulp it down as he keeps a hand on your back. he places it on the nightstand once you’re finished, and you grab his wrist after, tugging him back to the bed. “lay with me for a bit, toru.”

satoru doesn’t hesitate, laying down next to you on the bed and placing your head against his chest. your breathing is back to normal, and you feel his heart thumping against your ear. you wrap your arms around him, and satoru thinks that this moment is so domestic that he can’t help but daydream. he looks at your face, memorizing every feature about you with a lovesick look in his eyes. you’re so beautiful, so perfect, and he’s just so fucking glad that he didn’t lose you.

satoru thinks he could wake up to this everyday.

“you’re starin.” you say with an amused look on your face. gojo doesn’t even try to play it off. “what’s on your mind?”

“nothing. i just… love you so much, y/n.” he says, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. satoru would trade anything if it meant that this moment wouldn’t end. “m so glad you chose me.”

“i think it’s the other way around,” you tease. “you chose me. ever since you saw me at the party, you’ve done nothing but try to win my heart.”

“how could i not? there was just something different about you compared to everyone else.” he reminisces about that night at the party, and how far he’s come with his relationship with you. he remembers that night like it just happened yesterday.

you sigh, almost like you were thinking about that night too. you pull him into a kiss, finally finding the courage within you to say a proper “i love you.” to the man who meant the world to you.

“i love you too, angel.” he says, and you snuggle into him tighter. “you know i’ll always choose you…”

“..from this life and into the next. i’m so glad you gave me a chance, y/n. i’ll forever be grateful to now be called your husband. i’m the luckiest man ever knowing that you let me into your life, and i’m the one who gets to read these vows to marry you. i cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. i love you so much, y/n gojo.” he’s crying. gojo satoru is crying, and he’s hardly ever cried before. though, that changed after he met you.

the last time he cried was during pre-k, and now he’s done it time and time again… all because of you. he cried once during your first argument with him, another during the night he thought he’d lost you forever, and then another when he finally had you in his arms again once he proved his innocence… and now, during his wedding, when he finally gets to call you his wife.

and when you share your kiss at the end of the ceremony to symbolize your togetherness, you hear all your friends cheering. mainly shoko, utahime, and geto. if you showed this very scene to shoko during your university years, she’d call you crazy, saying this would never happen. gojo satoru was once a man who’d never willingly committed in a relationship before, but you came into his life and you changed everything about him. it was like magic.

you pull away from the kiss, wiping his tears away and whispering against his lips, drowning out the crowd, “thank you.”

for memorizing all my favorite foods so you could buy them for me. for walking me to class every day. for making me fall in love with you that one day at the park. for waiting for me to slowly love you even when i was scared to love. for waiting for me even if i didn’t trust you. for loving me. for proving those rumors wrong. for proving that satoru gojo is actually capable of falling in love and pouring his heart out to the one he loves the most.

for everything that you have done to love me.

it was like gojo could hear all of your unspoken words. he smiles, letting one more tear roll down his cheek, and says, “it’s all worth it if it’s for you.”

thanks for reading <3 -kami.

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4tiro · 2 years

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On the first page of our story The future seemed so bright Then this thing turned out so evil I don't know why I'm still surprised Even angels have their wicked schemes And you take that to new extremes But you'll always be my hero Even though you've lost your mind

#Love The Way You Lie (Part II)#overthinking

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ninthskzmember · 3 months

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Sharing is caring. Part II

Lee Know x reader. (Pt 1)

warnings: straight up smut. pet names. wc: 1,3k. an: hey! Just wanted to let you know that this is my first time writing smut in english. If you've got any suggestion, i'm open! Thank you for all the likes, reblogs and love this is getting!

Requests are open :)

"Who was in your imagination when you came up with that question?" You were holding his head while he sucked and left marks on your neck.

Those, for sure, will last at least a few days on you, and there's just something about you getting marked that Minho just loves. You're his, and he can do whatever he wants with you, even lending you to one of his mates just for his own pleasure.

In his imagination, it was for sure Chan who he wanted to share you with. What a better gift to his stressed, overworked, and single leader than you being all fucked up for both him and his only hyung.

And of course, he has seen the way Chan sometimes looks at the marks on your neck, and his eyes get dark for a split second before composing himself and starting to act normal again.

"I prefer you to choose, love," he said while making his kisses a road up to your chin and then your mouth.

A kiss that was wet from the start made you feel the same way.

In your head, you were really working through it. Jeongin? You feel like that's just wrong. Seungmin? You feel in your guts that he'd make a fucking mess out of you. Felix? Just like the maknae, you wouldn't want to take away the angelical aura they make you feel. Jisung? Yes, he's a reasonable option for this. Hyunjin?…

Lee Know took you out of your thoughts when he pulled away and slipped his hand on your pants, feeling just how much the thoughts you were having were having an effect on you.

He was still close to your face, and you could feel his minty breath on top of your lips.

"Oh," he said with a cheeky smile on his face, "you're really into it." His eyes locked on yours. "Who's got you all wet for me, baby?" He said this before biting your lip.

"No one in particular," you said with a breathy voice while feeling his digits play with your clitoral area.

"Why do you lie to me, kitten?" He asked while introducing one of his fingers to your core. "Were you thinking about Changbin getting his big dick into you?" His whisper on top of your ear sent shivers all over your body, making you clench around his only finger inside of you.

The thing is, you didn't even make it to the thought of Changbin, and you didn't know if you loved or hated your imagination.

"You'd like that, right, baby?"

Your only answer was multiple nods and a needy look.

"Use your words," he said, stopping his movement.

"Yes," you replied instantly, winning a satisfied smile from your man.

"Come here," he slipped out of you and guided you both to the couch where you were originally reading.

He took a seat first, the man spreading his posture, and with that look of his, you knew what he wanted.

"Come here," he ordered, and you obeyed. Your legs one to each side of his hips, his strong grip on top of yours. He made you sit directly into his already hard dick, winning a discrete little moan from your lips.

"Babe, I want you," you said with no shame at all, wanting to move over all his length.

"Work for me," he smiled, and that's just what you started doing—grinding over your boyfriend over and over, leaving a wet line on his pants where you were having fun.

Both of you were a moaning mess, and you almost forgot where all of this started. You were drunk on the taste of Minho's lips, neck, skin, and cock.

"Is Changbin your final answer, kitten?" His question brought you over to the real world again.

"No." Your answer came out of your mouth faster than you thought, and you didn't even know if Changbin was your final answer or not until you said it.

"Alright," he said, smiling and pulling you in to kiss you desperately again. You couldn't even form a thought from the stimulation you were getting.

Lee Know took your shirt off, throwing it somewhere in the living room, followed by your bra. He wasted no time and started playing with your nipples, one on his mouth and the other with his right hand.

You were getting high-pitched, so he knew you were close. His left hand traveled to your hips and wrapped his arm around them, making you feel his dick tighter. He started helping with the movements too, making you almost reach the stars.

Until he remembered.

He stopped you abruptly, and you whined.

"I wanna cummmm," the sentence came out of your lips like a cry, matching your watery eyes.

"Oh, you will, but after we decide," he said cheekily, and he laid you on your back.

He locked his lips on yours again and took the reins.

"I'll take whoever you want, babe." You got your legs around his body, pulling him closer, trying to feel his hard stick rubbing against your core again.

But Minho is not the kind of person who just gives in. No, he will make you work. Work for your orgasm, and work for who you'll choose to fuck you dumb.

With one of his hands, he reached down and felt how you even stained your jeans. He laughed and took a look over his own pants, realizing you did the same to him.

"Needy little fucker," he said, smiling at you.

It took little to no time for him to make you both naked; now you are both desperate.

He aligned himself with you, getting just the tip in.

"Hyunjin," he said out of nowhere, making you confused. "Alright," he said, moving a little bit deeper.

"Felix," he said this time, and now you kind of understand what he was doing. He wanted to see how your body reacted to each of his friends. There was no movement for Felix or Jeongin either. So now he was 4/7 inside you.

"Jisung." Even you could feel the little twitch from your walls around him at the sound of Han's name. "Nice," he said, and he went a little deeper again.

"Changbin"—your hips betrayed you, moving up and down to Changbin. "Oh, so we're into 3racha," he smiled down at you, biting his lower lip.

"Minho, please, I need you," you whined again. "I need you to fuck me dumb right now. I need you to make a mess out of me right now."

"Choose." He said this when he went all the way inside you without stopping. He started pounding you hard, making you a moaning mess. "Kitten," he said, pulling your hair lightly.

"Kim Seungmin. I want Kim Seungmin. Please, Minho, please." You made your decision drunk on your boyfriend's dick, and you were glad you did. "Oh, baby, you feel so good; please don't stop, don't stop."

"Didn't you think you couldn't handle him, you little slut?" His smile couldn't be erased, sweat falling from his forehead. "You like being a slut; you like being a mess."

You nodded at his words, clenching with each one of them. You were close, and so was he.

"You like the thought of Seungmin getting his dick into you, don't you?" You didn't even pay attention to what he was saying at this point; you just wanted to cum.

"Just imagine Bang Chan Hyung fucking you as deeply as I am doing right now," he whispered in your ear, and that was it.

Not only did you hit your orgasm, but you also squirted the hell out of you.

A surprised Lee Know came out of you with shock in his eyes while you were still going through your high.

Your man was not dumb; he knew what it was. He was just surprised because it was the first time you were able to do it.

"Oh my god," you said, still twitching a bit.

"So, BangChan?" He smirked down at you.

"Definitely Chris." you answered, biting your own lower lip.

"We've got our final answer. Now come here and give me some head; I want to cum too," he said, carving your cheek, and you did not think twice before getting on your knees.

Part 3

#skz #skz imagines #stray kids #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #minho x you #minho x y/n #minho imagines #lee know imagines #lee know #lee minho #bang chan #2min #kim seungmin

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wileys-russo · 6 months

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all i can picture in my mind is jealous bf less who KNOWS she shouldn’t be jealous, and she’s just gone quiet bc she doesn’t wanna say anything. and then that creates a whole thing with r who feels like maybe she’s don’t something wrong. and then it all blows up and leads to a guilt confession from less about why she was quiet

shut down II a.russo

"-well baby i think that was quite literally everyone. you have now met my entire family!" you smiled softly, having pulled your girlfriend away to a quiet corner of the back deck, your cousins wedding kicking off in full force behind you.

"i can't promise i remember half their names love i won't lie." alessia chuckled, hands finding yours as you played with her fingers. "i don't know half their names and to some of them i'm their husbands, sisters, best friends second half cousin on my dads side." you joked, coming from such a huge family did have its challenges.

"you look so beautiful tonight amore mio." the striker sighed, the way her eyes lovingly roamed your body making your cheeks flush red. "as do you baby, the matching colour scheme was a nice touch." you smiled, hands fussing with the suit vest which adorned her top half, the taller girl wearing a two piece vest and pants set that perfectly matched your dress.

"my favourite part about this dress will be watching it fall to the floor later." alessia almost purred, lips ghosting yours as you raised an eyebrow at her suggestive tone. "mm and my favourite part of those suit pants will be watching them fly across the room later, much later." you teased, leaning in as if to kiss her but pulling away at the last minute.

"come love, we should get back inside." you smiled knowingly at the look on her face, taking a few steps away and offering her your hand, wiggling your fingers. "just you wait." alessia warned with a smirk tugging at her lips, accepting your hand and allowing you to pull her back inside the venue.

as soon as the two of you stepped inside you were both whisked away into the hurry and flurry of the dance floor, twirled around by distant relatives as your heart warmed to watch alessia dance with your neice.

"well hello stranger." you jumped at a pair of hands landing on your waist. "oh my god ellie? hey!" you gasped at your childhood neighbour, pulling her into a tight hug, missing the way your girlfriends eyes instantly locked onto you from across the room.

alessia knew she shouldn't be jealous. you'd never given her any reason to be, you showered her with your love and attention whenever she wanted it and alessia knew you would never ever cheat, that's not who you were.

so then why she felt her eyes burn and her stomach tighten at the unfamiliar girls hands all over you, the way her eyes roamed your face and subtly dropped down to your exposed cleavage, the way she picked you up and twirled you round.

that was her job, you were her girl, only her hands could touch you like that and only her arms could wrap around you and protect you from the world.

but she was tugged from her jealous haze by a small hand pulling at her pants, your neice holding up her hands expectantly as alessia's face softened, twirling the little girl around who squealed happily, the noise catching your attention as you glanced over ellie's shoulder, face softening at the sight.

"come on! we have so much to catch up on." alessia glanced up to check on you, having made sure you were in her sights all night, so alarm bells rang in her head as she looked around the room trying to spot you.

"hey oli, save me a dance for later?" she knelt down and spoke to your neice who nodded happily before running off after her brother as alessia continued her search for you.

she finally found you sat at your seat on your assigned table, ellie sitting in alessia's place as the two of you chattered away without a care. "oh! here she is." you perked up as you spotted your girlfriend making her way over.

"so you're the infamous girlfriend. hi! i'm ellie." your friend stood in alessia's path toward you, pulling her into a surprisingly sudden hug as alessia returned the gesture though a little more awkwardly.

alessia was quick to sit down in her rightful seat, ellie moving to the vacant chair on your other side as the two of you resumed conversation, alessia's hand moving to rest somewhat protectively on your leg.

as the conversation continued the blonde found herself struggling more and more to ignore the unwarranted jealousy bubbling up inside her. ellie was absolutely lovely and alessia detested her for it because it even more so added to the fact that alessia had no right to feel this way.

and yet with every laugh she pulled from you, every little inside joke you two shared or funny memory you reflected on, every little subtle touch of your hand or your face as she’d grab at you with a grin, alessia’s stomach coiled further and her grip on her drink would tighten.

she felt isolated from you despite being sat right by your side, she wanted to be pressed up against you on the dancefloor, her making you laugh and her whispering sweet things in your ear as the two of you swayed and stole kisses inbetween each song.

but she wasn’t, and that’s not to say you were purposely excluding her from the conversation with your friend, quite the opposite actually if anything it was alessia who was isolating herself.

knowing she didn’t have the right to feel this way but unable to ignore or move past the reality that she did in fact feel this way, alessia shut down and switched off.

you’d continually try to pull her into the conversation, wether it be you highlighting her varied achievements both on and off the pitch, or recommending a new restaurant the two of you had recently been to.

you’d tried a multitude of different ways to get your girlfriend to engage and yet each time she would just smile politely or give an answer with no more than a few words, going back to sipping on her drink as her eyes avoided yours.

you didn’t fail to notice when her touch slipped away, her hand moving off your knee to rest in her lap, inching away as you tried to reach out for her again, a small frown painted on your features at the rejection.

at first you felt worried, trying to maintain conversation with ellie whilst also ticking over and over in your mind and memory if you’d done anything to upset the taller girl beside you who looked like she wished she was anywhere else but.

but then when your countless attempts to rope her in to engaging with you failed, your worry turned into frustration which was very close to boiling over into anger.

“im just going to go to the toilet and freshen upa bit. babe come with me?” you left her no choice, your voice seemingly sweet but your girlfriend instantly caught onto the slight tone of malice which lay beneath its initial layer.

apologising to ellie who waved you off and stood to go and mingle, you grabbed alessia’s hand and all but dragged her away from the table.

“what the hell was that? why are you being so rude?” you questioned once the two of you were safely locked inside the toilet, thankfully no one else in a single cubicle to interrupt the fast brewing argument.

“i wasn’t!” alessia shook her head, again avoiding your eyes as you huffed. “really? then why do you look like you’d be anywhere else but here with me?” your voice cracked slightly at the end, emotions betraying the tough facade you were trying to play into as your girlfriends eyes snapped to yours at the waver.

“baby i want nothing more than to be here with you, nothing makes me happier or prouder than having you on my arm and by my side both at events and in life, i promise.” the blondes hands were quick to settle themselves either side of your face, placing a reassuringly tender kiss to your lips.

“then why were you being so quiet and stand-offish at the table?” you frowned, the striker letting out a pensive sigh and dropping her hands from your face. “it doesn’t matter.” alessia sighed, dragging her hands down her face as you cocked your head curiously.

“it matters to me. did I do something wrong?” you asked quieter now, insecurity starting to hint it’s way through the fortress of your mind. “what? no amore mio i promise, it’s absolutely nothing you did.” she assured quickly as your frowned deepened.

“then talk to me, please.” you requested, the concerned look in your eyes enough to cause alessia’s heart to crack. “its really nothing, it’s silly.” alessia sighed, tilting her head back as you stayed quiet, urging her on with a pointed gaze.

“okay. i was jealous of ellie being round you and i knew i had absolutely no right to be and she was actually quite a lovely girl so I sort of just…shut up and shut down?” alessia winced at the admission, your face softening at her words.

“lessi. you’re right you have no reason at all to be jealous!” you assured, arms reaching up to loop around her neck as you stared up at the taller girl. “just seeing her hands on you and her making you laugh and all the little inside jokes, well it wound me up a little.” alessia muttered much quieter as again your smile grew.

“you really are the sweetest you know that right?” your nails traced lines on the back of her neck. “see this? i’m yours baby. yours and yours only!” you gestured to the small golden A necklace which had hung round your neck for months now.

“but its cute you got so worked up. next time just talk to me about it, after all you’re normally quite good with your mouth.” you teased, grinning as the look in the blondes eyes shifted slightly.

“you know mi bella ragazza, you did say i’d find that dress on the floor later…well would you look at that? it’s later.”

#alessia russo #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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euno11a · 3 months

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Tattooed Hearts

Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader

Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period

Edit: Hey guys, I got this idea for some reason and was thinking of making it into a series, so let me know if you enjoy it and want a part two :)

Pt II • Pt III • Pt IV • Pt V • Pt VI • Pt VII • Pt VIII

*** You weren’t one to put out, always waiting for the one person who made you feel special. But you never seemed to feel that, except for when you were with Jungkook. He made you special, he made you happy, he made you feel loved. Maybe giving yourself to him was your mistake, but how could you not? He looked so handsome with his piercings and tattoos. That’s where you should’ve known what you did was a mistake. Sleeping with him was never on your bucket list, sure you’d thought about it before, but you never intended for anything to actually happen. It felt good, it always did, but the pain of being pushed out always pained you after. Mistakes get made, but this one hurt too much.

Sobbing on the bathroom floor was something you’d never wanted to do when it came to a guy. But seeing him with that girl hurt, way too much. Why weren’t you used to this yet? It’s happened before, get used to it. “He doesn’t deserve your tears, Y/N, please stop crying…” Lindsay, your friend, pleaded. She’d been here when it first happened, the other hundred times it had happened, and now. Maybe you were the stupid one for never taking her advice. Now, you hated calling anything stupid, nothing was stupid. There was always reason for something being one way and not the other, but you were just stupid for how many times you’d fallen for his tricks. Tattoos make a story when on your skin, most of the time. The story behind your tattoo was that you’d fallen for a handsome tattoo artist, letting him sweep you off your feet, wine and dine you and then fuck you. Big mistake. It’s almost funny how many mistakes you’ve made with him. Going the day after to get your tattoo finished was not the happy ending you were expecting, instead finding a woman walk out of his office looking drunk off of sex. Just like you did. He apologized, wine and dined you, then fucked you again. The same thing happened. Something wasn’t clicking, stay away from him; he’s bad for you; he’s using you; all things you should’ve listened to, but didn’t. That was on you, you decided to keep going back and keep getting your heart broken. That was until now, countless nights of crying about him, going back to him, waiting for him to call and use you again, you were done.

Wiping your tears for the last time, you wouldn’t let this man or any man make you cry like that ever again. That was a promise. ***

“Are you ever gonna get that tattoo finished?” Lindsay asked as she placed the bowl of popcorn between you two. It was Wednesday night, your scheduled movie night. “I think it would look really cool actually completed.”

You placed some popcorn in your mouth, thinking for a moment, “I don’t know…I think it looks kinda cool now!” Placing the blanket over your legs, you looked at your shoulder, a half finished tattoo of a skeleton hand holding a rose.

“Girl, don’t lie, you need to get it finished. Please? I’ve been looking at it for so long, I can’t stand it anymore! How are you not annoyed it’s only half done?!” She was adamant about making you get it finished, partially because she wanted you to go back to rub it in Jungkook’s face how amazing you were and what he lost when he slummed it with those other women.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll get it finished, but you need to get me tteokbokki after, got it?” It was something you’d dreaded, but having the feeling inside that you’d let him win by not seeing him again was eating at you from the inside.

Lindsay squealed in joy, clapping her hands, “ I’m gonna make you so hot! He’s gonna regret sleeping with those other bitches!”

“Whoa, whoa, I’m going to get my tattoo finished, not see him. And don’t call them bitches! Women stick up for women, no matter how fucked up some might be.” Secretly, you were hoping to make him jealous or upset with how he left you. He deserved to feel like shit.

“Okay, okay, sorry…I’M GONNA GET MY HEELS!!” Lindsay yelled as she ran out of the living room to grab her heels from her room. I sighed, knowing that I couldn’t stop her.

***

A week later, you walked into the shop, seeing the familiar face of RM. He was one of the piercers that worked in the parlour, “Y/N, hey, it’s been a while!” He spoke with a big smile, happy to see you again. With the time you’d spent there before everything, you’d befriended his friends. It felt unfair leaving them behind after it all.

“Yeah, hi, how’ve you been?” Even though Jungkook was nowhere to be seen, you couldn’t help but feel a lump growing in your throat.

RM had a bright smile on his face, one that he’d always had that always managed to make your day better. “Good! I’ve been good, uh, how can I help you today?” He asked, standing up from behind the front desk.

“I want to get my tattoo finished. I think it’s finally time.” You gave him a small smile, he’d known about what happened between you and Jungkook. It was hard not to know, he was friends with him after all.

“Alright, we can do that! Let me see…V could take you.” He looked up from the computer, seeing what was open now. You nodded your head, willing to take anyone who wasn’t Jungkook.

They’d gotten you situated at a station, instructing you to take off your sweater. Your half finished tattoo was now on display, waiting to be finished. V was nice, making small talk here and there, making sure you were comfortable with everything and that nothing was too painful. Pain wasn’t your thing, yes, you had to go through a period every month and maybe one day give birth, but you had a low pain tolerance. He used to squeeze your thigh, kiss your neck, finger you to keep you calm…stop it! Don’t think about him! He’s not in your life anymore, don’t waste precious thinking space on him! Not thinking about the needle piercing your skin was abruptly stopped when you felt a prick, yelping, you moved your shoulder away. V looked at you with wide eyes, “ I’m sorry! Was that painful? Oh god, are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“No, no! It’s okay! I’m fine, just startled! Sorry, I zoned out for a moment…” You gave him a sheepish smile, relaxing in the chair again.

“That’s fine, just let me know if you need a break or anything, okay? Maybe I can sneak you a juice if you really want, too.” He gave you his signature boxy smile, instantly warming your heart.

You giggled, nodding your head, “That would be nice…” Smiling up at him, it felt nice to still be friendly with them even though you were nowhere close to being friendly with Jungkook.

V stood up, walking away to get you a juice from the break room. He left you in the chair, leaving you alone to listen to the music playing softly through the speakers. Quietly humming along, your thoughts were halted by hearing two voices. “Hey, RM, when’s my next client?”

“She should be here soon, it’s a touch up.” I could hear RM talk to the person. The other guy hummed, shuffling around a little.

You sat up, being faced with Jungkook. Everything seemed to go fuzzy, your thoughts, the sounds around you, even your eyesight. The lump in your throat returned, making it hard for you to breathe, V returned with your juice, “ I got you watermelon! You know? Since it’s your favourite!”

You were startled out of your trance, looking up at V who was holding your favourite juice. They still had it…? “Thanks…how do you-?”

You were cut off by V smiling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck. “We all thought you’d show up again…but when you didn’t, we kept the fridge stocked for whenever you decided to show up again.”

Heat rushed up to your cheeks, they’d waited for you? Why? His boxy smile came back again, looking over to Jungkook, waving “Hey, JK, lunch was good?”

“Yeah, it was fine. Pussy would’ve been better though.” Jungkook replied as if it were nothing, finally looking over to you. He faltered a little bit, quickly recovering by giving you a cocky smirk, “Glad to see you back, Y/N.”

Without another word, he walked away, back into his office. Biting the inside of your cheek, you knew this wasn’t the last time you’d see him. He was like a parasite, once you had it, it would never go away.

#bts #bts army #bangtan #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkookie #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader

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bl-ee-d-0 · 1 month

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Astro Observations #1

€Libras are dramatic and lie to maintain peace only when unevolved

€Cap rising females get hate from girls! They be jealous and/or intimidated from the native

€Libra sun cap rising males can be so sexyy especially with martian energy prominent like scorpio/aries moon/mars in a birth chart

€I love leo venus! They are so sexy??? Esp Women omg 🔥

€Jupiter-Asc aspects hate pessimistic and criticizing personalities or find them annoying/ hard to deal with

€Sag mars are so wild. They also tend to be bisexual. The thing is they'll definitely try everything once. It's a life mission to them. 💋

€Libra mercury in 10th house speak my daddy is RICH 💴 🔥

€cancer mars women? I don't get yall but your character makes me wanna fwy in a goood way 🔥🥺 (being a sag mars)

Comment if you want a part II 🫶

Love for all 💋

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months

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Gone II

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of the Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your mothers deal with your separation anxiety.

After your breakdown from Pernille's absence and a bit of research, your mothers quickly came to the conclusion that you were experiencing a bit of separation anxiety.

It made sense, sadly.

Pernille had been your constant since birth, with Magda popping in as often as she could but being restricted to the phone screen for most of your life.

It makes perfect sense that Pernille's absence makes you worried.

Which was why, though heartbreaking, they were doing this in the first place.

You're sat on the carpet, having some supervised Lego play (Magda worried incessantly that one day you would put a brick in your mouth when they weren't looking).

"I don't know," Pernille says, chewing on her bottom lip as she watches you.

Ever since your little episode, you had been relentlessly clingy and sweet but she didn't exactly want you to go through what you went through last week all over again.

"It's for the best," Magda says, though there's a waver in her voice," She can't just stay like this. What happens when she starts going to school?"

The question lingers for a moment before Pernille sighs and goes to put on her shoes. You perk up when she passes you, thinking that she's come to play Lego with you but she doesn't. Your brow furrows in confusion.

"Momma?" You call as you watch her slip on her shoes. "Where you going?"

They'd established through this past week that your anxiety only flared up when your routine broke. You were happy to abandon Pernille at training or to go with Magda to the park or shopping but if Pernille was anywhere different to where you'd left her then you'd burst into tears.

Her putting on her shoes to leave at this time of day very much broke your routine.

"Just out, princesse," She says, trying to act blasé about it, to not worry you further.

Your worried crinkle appears regardless though. You stand on your feet and wander closer. You spy your shoes sitting neatly next to Morsa's. You sit by Momma and put your feet out to her, to get her to put your shoes on.

She picks you up by your armpits and sets you back on your feet. "No, princesse," She says firmly but not unkindly," Momma's going out. Not y/n."

Your next question comes out in a quivering whine. "Why?"

"Because Momma needs to grab something from the post office." It's not a lie. There was something waiting at the post office but Pernille could have easily just had it redelivered to the house if she really wanted to. It's about twenty minutes there both ways plus however many minutes it took to actually get the package.

It wouldn't be as long as your separation last week but certainly the longest you've been separated since.

You seem to realise something similar as your chin wobbles and your crinkle gets deeper. "I..." You look around at Morsa, who hasn't gotten up. You tap your chest. "I go too. Shoes. Please."

Momma laughs and strokes your cheek with a finger. "Silly y/n," She says," You need to keep Morsa company."

You tap her on the arm. "Keep you company."

"Oh, princesse. I think-"

She doesn't get to finish though because you're scooped up and placed on Morsa's hip. You hadn't even seen her move and suddenly you've no escape.

Momma moves to kiss you on the cheek a few times, pulling away wistfully. "I love you," She says, looking into your arms," I love you so much. I'll be home very soon."

Your worried eyes follow her to the door, staring longingly at it seconds after it has been closed. You look between it and Morsa and then you promptly burst into tears.

Morsa bounces you. "Okay," She says," Okay, princesse. Come on."

Magda picks her way back to the sofa, careful to avoid your scattered Lego bricks. She slouches in her seat, propping her legs up on the ottoman and leaning you back against her folded knees.

You're still sobbing but not quite hysterical just yet. You keep looking back at the door pitifully as fat tears roll down your cheeks. Your Morsa's calm look and the rhythmic way she's rubbing your tummy makes your sobs quieten until its only short bursts of sucking breaths in.

"How are you feeling, princesse?"

Morsa's a little slow sometimes, you think. It's pretty clear how you're feeling.

"Wan'-Wan' Momma."

"I know." She's completely sympathetic and sweet and it distracts you slightly from your want for Momma. "But she'll be home very, very soon."

Your tummy clenches at the reminder that your Momma isn't here. It almost sets off another wave of tears. But Morsa keeps talking.

"You know, before you two moved here, I missed you and Momma so much."

You blink away tears and say shakily," Really?"

She nods. "Uh-huh. I missed you both with every little bit of me. But I found ways to cope." She gasps like she's just remembered something. "Do you know what? I think I can make you miss Momma a little less. Would you like that?"

You nod pitifully.

You're back on Morsa's hip again and you rest your cheek against her shoulder, completely limp against her as you stare blankly ahead.

Morsa takes you to her and Momma's room and she grabs a nice-looking wool jumper from the top of the dresser. It looks warm and it's a nice dark green that's not exactly Christmas tree colour but close.

She sets you on the Big Bed and you whine when you're out of her grip. Morsa crouches in front of you.

"This was Momma's from way back when we used to play with each other at Linköping. When I left, I took this with me because it smelt like Momma and it helped me when I missed her."

She holds out the jumper to you and you sniff the fabric.

She's right. It does smell like Momma.

Morsa bunches it up and pulls it over your head. The arms are floppy and it fits you like a dress, almost dragging on the floor. But you don't really care. It's like being wrapped in a nice blanket of Momma even though she's not here.

"Now," Morsa says," Every time you're missing Momma, I want you to close your eyes and take a nice, deep breath of Momma's jumper and think about how much she loves you, okay?"

You do as she says and relax marginally.

"Now, Momma will be home very, very soon. What do you want to do while we wait?"

You feel a little bit teary but you manage to squeak out," Lego." You poke at her chest. "With you."

When Pernille comes home just under an hour later, it's not to carnage. You're sitting with red-rimmed eyes on the floor, telling Magda where to put each brick, wrapped up warmly in Pernille's ratty old jumper from years ago.

You don't look completely at ease without her, especially when you spot her and abandon Magda completely in favour of barrelling towards her like a charging rhino, going limp in her arms as they wrap around you (and then refusing to leave them until dinner). But it's better than nothing.

It's still progress and that's all the really matters.

Besides, you look extra cute and cuddly in your stolen clothes.

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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lorelune · 5 days

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O4O: part i

|| jing yuan x reader || E/18+ || omega for omega, soft smut || wc: 10.3k || ao3 ||

Jing Yuan has been content riding out his heats alone for centuries. You, despite being another omega, are happy to lend a hand if Jing Yuan will have you.

minors, antis and ageless blogs dni

💦🎀 this piece is apart of SPRING FEVER: an omegaverse collab! 🎀💦

part i (here) — part ii (coming soon!)

notes: hello omega jing yuan omega jing yuan save me... the way omega jy has haunted me for months. MONTHS. this fic is incredibly indulgent soft, needy smut with non-traditional a/b/o dynamics. THANK YOU to the lovely @owlespresso for beta reading!! please read the tags and enjoy!! <3

CW: a/b/o dynamics, omega jing yuan (with afab and amab anatomy), omega reader (afab anatomy), past yingxing/jing yuan/dan feng, bottom jing yuan flavors (though reader does not do any penetration), use of toys, worldbuilding around omegaverse, lots of biting, milfy jing yuan, mommy kink without the word mommy (at least not in this part 👀💗!!),

Jing Yuan has not shared his heat with anyone in a very, very long time. Centuries, most certainly. Jing Yuan doesn’t find it very useful to keep track of that length of time— he finds it cumbersome if anything. There’s no use holding onto a past that only forces him to redigest pain.

Jing Yuan rarely has heats. He keeps a diligent schedule of medication and only has to go through them once every decade or so. Occasionally less, if the Luofu is passing a particular star system or comet field. His heats are always cumbersome. He can conceal his omegan sensibilities often, but it is more difficult prior to a heat.

Preheat is a different beast.

When Jing Yuan sequesters himself in his estate for the better part of a week, anyone who knows he’s even there assumes it is to go through a rut. A week is a standard amount of time to take off for a rut and is expected. However, a heat has a standard time off of about two and a half weeks. Much longer to accommodate preheat and nesting needs.

Jing Yuan rarely indulges his own.

The Luofu, at large, assumes he is an alpha. This is manufactured, however only partially. Generally, the citizens of the Luofu assume, given that he is the General and he has a larger, broad-shouldered stature, that he is an Alpha through and through. He always wears scent patches in public, which is normal for both omegas and alphas. Betas, too, occasionally. Depending on the subtype. The Charioteers know that he is an omega, but they are committed to some amount of discretion and guard the information as a secret. Lady Fu, an alpha, will occasionally scold him for being so secretive. Like he harbors some sort of self-hatred that he is an omega.

It is simply more convenient for him to be seen as an alpha. Jing Yuan doesn’t wish to disturb this perception.

And therefore, it is much easier to wait as long as possible between heats and bear them alone. Whatever instincts he has can be satiated with toys and a half-decent nest. Jing Yuan has always considered this enough. ‘Enough’.

(It’s not sating. Jing Yuan cannot lie to himself about this. He remembers laying with Yingxing, and how the alpha made him feel more full and content than Jing Yuan had ever thought possible during a heat. Or ever, truthfully. He remembers how calming Dan Feng’s presence had been— grounding and reassuring, too. Jing Yuan was fucked, filled and protected. An omega’s dream.)

Jing Yuan... copes with what he has. A large, plush bed with a downy mattress, a few donated, alpha-scented garments, and a collection of inflatable, knotting toys. He always leaves his heat with lingering cramps, a brutalized hole, and a yearning that takes a few weeks to quiet itself.

It is natural that he craves his mates. Even if they are long dead (not dead. Not really. Not the same as they once were, anyway.)

And certainly, never to be his again. The mating mark on his neck has long faded.

Jing Yuan tracks his heat so such yearning can be anticipated and planned for. He knows when his heat is approaching, down to the specific day it will occur. He titrates off his suppressants carefully, and maps out a portion of time off for himself a year or so in advance.

Which is why it is very odd that he starts exhibiting preheat symptoms in the middle of the day, a random day, during a tactical meeting.

Even if he had been titrating down his dose in anticipation for a planned heat in a few months time, it is far, far too early to begin feeling symptoms. The familiar itchiness prickling under his skin is entirely unexpected. Jing Yuan has to put a particularly large amount of effort to get through this unnecessary meeting without letting a single symptom slip. He can only adjust in his seat so many times before it is improper, or juggle the cradle of his jaw from one hand to the other before it is clear something is wrong.

If any of the Charioteers and their advisers notice anything amiss with him, they say nothing. The only one who looks off-put is Fu Xuan. She’s a spitfire alpha herself, and perhaps she’s keen enough to notice that Jing Yuan is beginning to feel... unwell. Though he is masking his scent as he always does, he imagines that the flush in his cheeks is becoming increasingly obvious.

Fu Xuan gives Jing Yuan a wary look as the meeting is dismissed.

“General,” She says curtly. “Are you well?”

“I’m fine,” He gives her a rich laugh as he stands, muffling a groan as his stiff back and knees ache. He’d sat for too long. He feels light-headed as he rights himself and Fu Xuan glares at him.

“I doubt that,” Fu Xuan huffs. “I will not interrogate you in public, nor do I think you would give me an honest answer even if I did—”

“So little trust in me, Master Diviner—”

“ However, I will urge you to go home. ” She takes a step closer and sniffs the air. It’s just the two of them in the meeting room now, the rest of the parties in attendance having filtered out. Subtly and without fanfare, she takes his hand in her own, and presses her wrist to his. Jing Yuan keeps an easy grin on his face but can’t help the way he tenses his fingers, flexing them at the contact. “Do you need an escort?”

“Is Lady Fu worrying for me? How kind.”

“I’m— not, ” Fu Xuan huffs now and more roughly smears their wrists together. The scent gland she is almost abusing is swollen and hot to the touch. It takes all of his composure not to squirm with her treatment. “I’m no fool. If you have a heat starting, you should be comfortable at home, not in a war room.”

“Master Diviner, you think I’m an omega?” Jing Yuan says with a smile. He knows she is already privy to this, but he can’t resist teasing her a bit.

“You are insufferable. Even in this state. Go home. I will take you there myself.”

“I’m afraid I can’t return home just yet,” He hums. He imagines he has a few hours before proper pre-heat sets in. “I have a lunch date that I cannot miss.”

“You— a lunch date?”

“Yes, of course. It’s a scheduled event, dear Diviner.”

“Do not patronize me.”

Jing Yuan laughs as she fumes. He has the urge to ruffle her hair, but thinks better of it. The complicated updo would surely be ruffled, and Jing Yuan is already getting an earful as it is.

“I would never.”

Fu Xuan yanks her arm away with a growl. She wears some type of masking perfume, she always has, but with her frustration swirling, a bit of her actual scent peaks through. It’s light on the back of his tongue, floral almost. Nearly inedible, but the kind of scent Jing Yuan that makes him nostalgic—

(For a master with a scent like frost-covered roses, and a packmate with a scent filled with springtime lilac blossoms in fat clusters.)

“If this lunch is really so necessary, may I escort you there at least? Or will your alpha be meeting you here?”

“They’re not an alpha.” Jing Yuan hums. His stomach feels warm regardless. “And I’ll be just fine getting there myself.”

Fu Xuan looks at him, questioningly. Her lips open, then close once more. There are questions she clearly has. And for all her brashness and hot-blooded fervor, she understands decorum better than most. She pries out of care and her good intentions, and Jing Yuan can respect that if nothing else.

“I’ll concede,” Fu Xuan sighs. “ However, please let me know if there’s anything else you need. You have my number.”

“Noted.” Jing Yuan rises, and feels the heat clouding his head sink lower in his body. He’s being engulfed.

Fu Xuan deadpans, “General—”

“Have a good rest of your day, Master Diviner,” He calls with a light laugh, slipping away before Fu Xuan can give him any further grief.

...

As the Arbiter General of the Luofu, Jing Yuan knows its streets and secrets very well. There’s more than one way to arrive at his favored terrace garden without being seen or smelt by the public. It is helpful that this path is lined near an aqueduct stream, surrounded by lush greenery and clumps of fragrant azure asters. This path is tucked away, straddling an external tunnel of the Luofu’s inner tunnels. Really, only the Calibrators aboard the ship use it, and as there are only a few and they tend to keep to their delve, Jing Yuan has very little fear walking this way at his own leisure.

He is glad you tend to take your lunch dates in the privacy of this particular garden, under the gazebo and nestled atop its many silken blankets and pillows. A conventional restaurant in this state would be doable, but unideal.

Jing Yuan can smell you as he approaches. It makes him pause, just outside the gate. His hands hovers over his jade abacus as he opens his mouth to taste you in the back of his mouth.

(Warm, a familiar scent that he associates with the rare indulgence of relaxation. It’s not overly sweet or ripe, but balanced and full-bodied. Not quite floral or fruity, and not deep enough to be akin to an aged black tea. Perhaps like the roll of a hearth or the beeswax of a lit candle.)

He’s sighs. It calms him instantly.

Even if you aren’t an alpha, you are familiar, as is the current setting.

You’re sitting at a low table in the shade of the gazebo. There are several plates of cheeses, cut fruits, salted meats, and nuts laid out. You’re ladling sticky honey into a small dish as he enters, and look up at the sound of the gate closing.

You smile when you see him.

“General,” You smile. “I apologize, I started setting up lunch without you. Everything should still be chilled.”

“No need to be sorry,” he laughs gently, brushing a hand against your shoulder before rounding the table, and taking a seat across from you. “I could never complain about your diligence. You have chosen quite the spread today, haven’t you?”

You flush with a nod, and gesture down to the table, “The markets were lovely today, I had to splurge. You’ll have to let me know what you think.”

“Only if you do the same.”

“I-I can do that,” You smile at him softly.

Despite your familiarity, you still regard him with some amount of anxiety. Jing Yuan has long since placed this has less to do with his status as General, and more than likely due to a deepened amount of affection that Jing Yuan... entertains. Enjoys. Thrives off of, even. He perhaps returns it, though he hasn’t told you that explicitly.

Besides, you believe him to be an alpha. He’s sure that, if you did know his secondary gender, such affections would fade quickly. The allure of what he could provide as an alpha is quite different from what he can provide as an omega.

Jing Yuan takes a sip of sparkling juice, and as he lowers the thin-necked glass, you look at him strangely. A crease knits itself between your brows.

“Did I get some on my face?” Jing Yuan chuckles and wipes at the corners of his mouth with his thumb.

“No... you just,” You stumble with your words, hands flexing in your lap. “Are... are you alright? Your cheeks look quite warm, and you’re sweating around your hairline.”

You always have been keen to bodies other than your own. It’s not the most common trait.

“... Am I?” Jing Yuan could choose to lie at this moment. It would be easy to say he was using a new brand of suppressants, or blame it on a stressful day. However, he doesn't like lying to you, only twisting the truth when entirely necessary. “I do suppose I’m at that point in my cycle.”

“Oh!” You startle and sit up more straight. You push a plate at him. “Pre-rut? You should eat, then. You’ll need your strength. Do— do you have someone I can call? I don’t mind.”

Your worry is cute.

Jing Yuan can’t help thinking about it. You are an omega full of so much care and urge to help. Jing Yuan has seen it and experienced it many times, and has also seen how it has gotten you into unfortunate situations. You have a trusting mind and spirit, and more than once, it has been used against you.

Jing Yuan likes keeping you close, so he can look after you, even if it’s from a distance.

He stares down at the plate. There’s a pile of glistening orange grapes, a few roses of sliced, cured meats, a chunk of honeycomb, and buttery looking crackers. It does look delicious, however Jing Yuan has always struggled to eat in his pre-heat. When he looks up at you to decline, your expression looks even more worried, almost sour.

Before he can speak, you are. Petal-soft lips lips downturned. “Are you... not in pre-rut, General?”

He deflates, slightly. He is old— and. He does not wish to steer you away from what is a correct assumption. You are his most trusted companion.

“I am not,” He says softly, and picks up one of the grapes. He squeezes. The skin is taut and tight. “And, please call me Jing Yuan. Formalities can be dropped, yes?”

“I— yes, of course.” You look from his plate to him. “So, you’re... pre-heat?”

“I am, yes.”

“Oh!” You immediately heap his plate with several other kinds of fruit, and grab a clean glass and pour ice water from a pitcher into it. “I apologize— for. Making such an assumption.”

“No need to apologize.” He soothes and lays a hand over yours. “I’m aware of what the vast majority of the Luofu assumes my secondary gender to be. It does not bother me. If it did, I would have corrected the greater public long ago. I apologize for not telling you directly until now.”

“It’s— okay,” you reply. Perhaps a bit hurt. “I never asked. I just— I just thought. Wrong.”

(Please be kinder to yourself, he thinks. It hurts to see you saddened on my account.)

“Nonsense,” he laughs and gracefully takes the water you offer. He downs the glass down his parched throat. He— hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. “No harm done. If anything, I’m grateful that you now know.”

(Regardless of how it could change your feelings toward him.)

Jing Yuan has tempered heartbreak for millenia. Another one— is not nothing, but it is manageable. Perhaps not during preheat, but he still has time to mourn.

“I’m glad too,” you tell him, and squeeze back his hand. You only scent him sometimes, always so shy about it, but now you firmly rub the scent gland in your wrist against his. His aches, and the sensation and exchange of pheromones nearly makes him wheeze. He straightens his spine.

“Was that—?” You almost pull away.

“No, it’s very welcome.”

You stare at him, intent and soft, before settling. Tentatively, you rub at the gland in gentle circles.

“You should eat,” you say after a moment. “Do you have an alpha I can call? Or— um, anything you need me to pick up for you?”

“I am fine.” Jing Yuan will text Qingzu for the essentials, rather than troubling you. “I’ll finish lunch with you, and then see myself home.”

“... No alpha to pick you up?”

“None to speak of, no.” Jing Yuan manages a smile.

(It has been— centuries since Jing Yuan had an alpha to care for and stake a claim on him. The notion of finding another has been put out of his mind since he himself had to confine Dan Feng to the Shackling Prison and exile the man Yingxing became. Even after meeting them as they are today, Jing Yuan knows they are no longer his mates.)

“Oh.”

Every one of your emotions is so clearly on your face. You look so sad for him and you squeeze his hand. He has half a mind to pull away, and remind you that he does not need your worry. However, he is in pre-heat, and by Lan, he is craving worry.

“And... heatmates?” You ask. “I don’t want to pry, but it’s hard to spend a heat alone.”

“Once again, none.” Jing Yuan replies without hesitating. The silence that follows is poignant as you study him.

“I see.” You frown again, clearly thinking. Jing Yuan can see the thoughts turning around just behind your eyes. You pile on even more fruits to his plate. “Eat, eat. You need it.”

“This much fruit will give me a stomach ache, I fear.”

“Some of it, at least!” You huff at him. “For me, please?”

Jing Yuan meets your gaze, easy and soft. There’s no threat, only the heat that matches your scent and the feel that radiates in his chest.

(You are not his alpha. You are something entirely different— something that he wants so badly to hold.)

“For you.”

...

By the end of lunch (in which, Jing Yuan does manage to eat a decent amount of the fruit you’d put on his plate), Jing Yuan’s pre-heat has begun to simmer into a more uncomfortable territory. He desperately wants to shed his uniform and armor, and slip into a robe and no bottoms. He hasn’t begun to slick yet, but he will surely start to by sundown.

Jing Yuan stands after the meal, stretching. It’s proper afternoon now, and the birds of the garden chirp eveningsong.

“Jing Yuan?” You ask as he stretches his arms above his head. His name sounds lovely in your mouth.

He hums, “Yes?”

“Do you want a heatmate?” You ask quietly.

He looks at you.

You’re fiercely meeting his gaze, even though you’re clearly struggling to. Your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth, and you’re fighting a frown from the crinkles on your forehead. Regardless, you stand your ground and ask a question that is surely difficult to broach, especially so directly.

“I—I am offering.” You stammer. “To clarify.”

“To be my heatmate?”

“Yes— I hate to think of you suffering alone, Jing Yuan. If I can be by your side to ease it, if only a little, I would like to be.”

“That is very brave of you to ask.” He smiles with a tilt of his head. “And bold.”

“I— I’m being honest.” You almost whine. It’s so cute. “Is that a no?”

“No, not at all.” Jing Yuan replies. “However, I wouldn’t want you to help solely for my benefit. If you wish to enter my nest exclusively to be an aid, and not out of... personal wants, I would feel guilty.”

“It’s— it’s personal wants too.”

“... Is it now?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Even though I’m not an alpha, as you thought?”

“Yes.”

“You’re certain.”

“ Yes, Jing Yuan.”

“I cannot give you a knot—”

“I do not need one!” You break, much to Jing Yuan’s amusement. “I am happy to be by your side, regardless of that! If anything, I’m more than happy to share a nest with you without the assurance of a limp and a potential pup.”

Jing Yuan smiles, almost unrestrained, and your cheeks heat deliciously.

You stammer, and poke at his chest, “You’re teasing me—!”

“I apologize, you must forgive me—”

“ Rude—!”

Your bury your face in his chest and nuzzle there. It’s— clearly a self soothing action, one you realize a moment too late isn’t quite proper. You stiffen, beginning to draw away, before Jing Yuan catches you by your scruff and holds you there.

“You’re alright,” He holds a wide palm there. “I apologize for teasing you. I mean so warmly.”

“... Scoundrel.” The sound muffles into his chest.

“Am I?”

You peer up at him, so warm in the cheeks and eyes... almost watery. Something in his chest feels sticky and molten.

“ Yes—” You dare to meet his eyes again. “But, one I’m very fond of.”

Jing Yuan steels himself.

You are an omega. It is not your pheromones addling his mind. There is clarity in the attraction and affection he has for you, one not influenced by the urge to be knotted and bred. Though, Jing Yuan wants that, maybe part of him needs it. There is a trunk full of toys and implements he has tucked away that will sate the urge. The feelings that he carries for you will not so easily be placated.

“I would like it very much if you were to share my heat with me,” He speaks softly, just for the two of you to hear. Not even the garden birds will know his words. “If you are still offering.”

“Yes,” You say quickly, tentatively wrapping your arms around his waist. “Yes.”

He chuckles, easy and low, and presses his nose into your hair. Perhaps it’s pre-heat, making him sentimental and mushy. He usually hides out and bears it alone in his comfiest nest so these feelings typically do not get expressed in any other way other than delirious, anguished cries while a knotting toy takes the edge off.

Jing Yuan finds these are nice to indulge, as your scent envelopes him.

...

“I lied earlier,” Jing Yuan says as you enter the threshold of his estate. “I apologize sincerely.”

“Oh?” You ask with a tilt of your head, accepting a pair of house slippers eagerly. “... What about?”

“I am in pre-heat unexpectedly. Though I have been tapering suppressants for an anticipated heat, it has come far earlier than planned . Things are... not as I would like them. You’ll need to excuse me for a few moments.”

Jing Yuan, like any omega, is particular about his home and nest, especially around his heat. He knows his home and inner chambers are not to his liking and he’ll need to prepare them. Even if you aren’t an alpha entering his nest, you are a guest and companion he is very fond of. You deserve only the best.

“Of course, whatever you need,” you assure him. “Do you need me to grab anything while you do so? I don’t mind running to the market—”

Jing Yuan turns on his heel, grabbing your arm firmly, “You’re not leaving.”

“O-Oh.”

Your eyes widen, and heat rises in your cheeks. Your throat bobs as you swallow and nod. Jing Yuan— were he not in pre-heat, would perhaps be a bit embarrassed by his brazeness. However, now? The idea of you leaving his home sends him reeling. You cannot leave— not until you smell like him and his nest. Not until— not until this is over.

“I sent a request to Qingzu to fetch us a few things during the walk over. She’ll be here shortly. I do, however, have a bowl of fruit that could be cut up while I get myself sorted. How does that sound?”

You nod eagerly, happy to follow instruction. Jing Yuan knows this about you and enjoys it thoroughly.

He sets you up in the kitchen with a bowl of sunsiettas, a box of meldberries, and a few bunches of perfectly ripe, round kaishen grapes. Jing Yuan leaves you to the task, which he can already tell you will do dutifully. You thrive off of praise and direction. It’s a dangerous trait of an omega to carry, even more terrifying to hold openly as you do. Jing Yuan knows it has burned you before.

However, he intends to indulge you well and kindly, as it pleases him very much.

His mind, far-too warm and itchy, yearns to spin fantasies as he locks himself in his room with a shake of his head.

He must keep it together. Just for awhile longer. His bed is— not a nest. Not the nest he wants (needs) it to be. His duvet, thick and luxurious as it is, needs a fluffing and a fresh scenting. His pillows are not arranged to his liking, and he needs to poke through his linen closet and add some extra layers as well. He needs to make sure there’s lube nearby with clean toys. Water out. His phone charged and volume on— (though, he already sent a message to Qingzu stating his heat has hit and he’ll be out for at least a week. ‘Defer to Diviner Fu :3’ , which is Jing Yuan’s payment to Lady Fu for the list of errands he had sent her.)

Jing Yuan shakes his head with a laugh. The little alpha will certainly be pleased when she hear she’ll get to play General for a while.

Pre-heat drives him forward. He sheds his many layers (without aid, which is objectively a headache and he regrets not asking you for assistance initially. However, Jing Yuan is fairly certain that if he were to be fully bare around you, regardless of his pre- heat or not, he may jump you and drag you into his nest—)

Pre-heat is also making him somewhat irrational.

He throws on his favored robe, a silken, cream-colored garment with delicate gold and red embroidery around the hems. The sleeves drape at his wrists and a sash ties it snugly around his waist. The itch that’s been rolling around just under his skin feels duller, with the less restrictive garment. The fabric crosses over his chest in a way that is... revealing. Probably too revealing, under any other circumstance, especially given that you have never seen him in anything less than his daily regalia.

The thought of looking so indecent around you has its allure to it. One that Jing Yuan lets himself entertain with a smitten smile as he works.

He is attracted to you, surely. This he knows and has known.

Jing Yuan acknowledges that this is both emotional and physical. You are dear to him, truly. In a way that is unique to any of the connections, he holds in the present. Your presence is one he thoroughly enjoys, and, more than once, (many times), has craved during his late-evening ruminations in his courtyard. He— has thought about inviting you over, if for nothing else than a chat in the moonlight and tea or wine to your preference, however—

He has always stopped himself.

Yearning, he will allow in the ways he has learned to manage it over the centuries. Small doses of longing that can be enjoyed and swallowed down, without festering. Being brazen with his wants and feelings is... slipperier. Especially concerning you, as you are dear to him, and Jing Yuan, for better or for worse, would like to share space with you for as long as he can manage.

This attraction is regardless of secondary gender.

Jing Yuan has not cared about secondary gender for a great while (since he shared a bed with a short-lived alpha and one of Long’s Scions, who, like all Vidyadhara, did not have a secondary gender at all.)

Your presentation as an omega was never a deterrent to him. If anything, it was something of a comfort. Jing Yuan was claimed long ago, and he knows that no alpha’s claim will feel the same as Yingxing’s and he wouldn’t want anyone, especially you, to attempt to emulate it. The ownership of a claim was not something he sought. Jing Yuan has had his heart broken enough for this lifetime. He is sure you could rend his heart asunder, however it would not be in the way of losing a mate that he is biologically tied to.

Statistically, Jing Yuan is lucky that such a loss did not cause him to become Mara struck five hundred years ago.

He is very content with whatever your relationship could become. If nothing else, the prospect of it allures him. Especially now that you know his presentation and clearly seem undeterred yourself. If— if anything. Your scent calmed and cooled when he’d told you on the terraces.

Another thing that Jing Yuan will have to parse when he isn’t so wet that he’s leaving puddles in his wake.

For now, Jing Yuan’s nest is satisfactory aside from a few personal items.

Now, all it’s missing is you.

...

Jing Yuan does not find you in the kitchen, but rather the foyer, wishing Qingzu a goodbye with a wave and shout.

Jing Yuan must—

(Temper his instincts because you are far too close to the door and you need to be in his nest and his teeth need to be in you and his scent on you—)

“Jing Yuan,” you say to him warmly, with a smile. There are a few canvas bags on your arms. “How are you feeling—?”

Jing Yuan can’t stop himself from dragging you away from the tall set of doors and back to the kitchen. You squawk at his firmness, but don’t reject his touch. He helps you heft the bags onto a low table. His own arms shake, with both the strain and his own heat-induced weakness.

“It’s really progressing, huh?” You tentatively raise a hand, and place it on his forearm to stroke there.

Jing Yuan practically purrs when you rub over the silken fabric, “It is. Quickly. However, my nest and appropriate supplies are ready. Did Qingzu deliver all that I asked?”

“It seems so.”

There are— three more bottles of lube. A few pearly-looking medicine pills, a specialty item from the Alchemy Commission. Several stacks of ready-made meals and electrolyte powder. There are several vials of milky-looking oils he had her grab for more scandalous purposes as Jing Yuan would like to avoid any type of friction abrasion. Lastly, there are few unmarked boxes with new toys.

“You’re so well-prepared.” Your eyes are wide as you take stock of the haul. Jing Yuan bundles things into a basket and ushers you to his nest.

“I have gone through many heats,” he chuckles. “I have learned the best tricks.”

“I-I can see.”

As you enter his bedroom, you stare at his nest with wide eyes. You jump when Jing Yuan locks the door.

“... Is that alright?” Jing Yuan asks.

“Yes, yes, of course. I just—” You swallow. “I haven’t ever helped another omega through a heat. If you have any pointers or preferences, let me know while you’re still in your full mind, please? I’d like to make this as comfortable for you as possible.”

Jing Yuan thinks for a moment. With a tilt of his head, he rests his hands on your shoulders. Your scent is spiced, a bit nervous, but also undeniably aroused. Your gaze darts down to his exposed collarbones and chest, then quickly back up to his eyes. Heat rises fiercely in your cheeks.

“Your presence will be helpful in and of itself,” he assures you with a squeeze. Carefully, he hooks his thumbs on your outer garment and pulls it down, undoing buttons and ties along the way. Your lips part, breath hot. “I’ll guide you as I need. My heats tend to be mild, though they do last a full week. There will be lulls, which I tend to be quite worn out during. I’ll need your assistance more than anything.”

You nod, taking in his response.

Jing Yuan— he’s holding it together. Slick is beginning to drip down his inner thighs and there’s an ache in his core that feels heavier and hotter by the minute. However, he does want to do this part slowly. He prides himself on his patience. Piece by piece, he takes off your day clothes and tosses them into his nest. Without them, your scent is stronger. Your neck is bare from any topical or adhesive blockers.

“During the rest of it though?” You ask, softly. “When you’re in the throes of it.”

Jing Yuan hums, letting a shaking hand rest on the curve of your waist, “I’m not certain. It’s been quite some time since I’ve shared a heat with anyone.”

“... Really?”

“Yes.” Jing Yuan presses his lips to your forehead without thinking. The heat of it, of you, sinks into his own. He feels like he’s going to burn up. “Does that surprise you?”

“Yes.” You answer, and push yourself closer to his neck. Your lips part to taste his scent on the back of your tongue. “You are a catch. I know you have quite the lineup of suitors... I just assumed.“

“You also assumed I was an alpha.”

“The General is a skillful liar.”

Jing Yuan clicks his tongue, sliding a hand below your last garments. Satin, lacey things that are almost sheer. Thin. He could tear them easily, but doesn’t. His touch lingers.

“ Jing Yuan,” he reminds you. You stammer before pitching into him. He carefully walks the two of you backwards. His legs are close to giving out. “And I’d like to think of it as a skillful withholding of unnecessary information.”

“ Jing Yuan is very good with his words,” You murmur into the soft skin of his neck, lingering around one of the scent glands there. They ache, sore and unstimulated.

So carefully, you stretch up on your tiptoes to nose at one of them. Your scents bloom together and his eyes almost roll back into his head at the meld of it, the relief and rush of connection.

It’s the last push Jing Yuan needs before dragging you into his nest with a stifled moan. Coherency is shattered and all he can do is crave, crave, crave.

...

You are a good heatmate.

Astoundingly good. Attentive, kind, and so soft. It’s a relief to Jing Yuan, who’s heat-addled mind is so used to loneliness and cold. You do not have the scent or knot of an alpha, but you’re more than enough. It’s presence and comfort in a way Jing Yuan so, so missed. It’s enough in a different way— and that difference is good.

(You are not Yingxing or Dan Feng, and Jing Yuan is grateful that you aren’t.)

Jing Yuan finds himself on his back, with you wrapped around him. You let him pillow his cheek against your collarbone. His nose presses against your scent gland, and he pants against it with an open mouth and spit slicked lips. Your hand lays over his chest, cupping his breast while gently thumbing over his nipple. He’s so swollen there, aching.

He cries out as you pinch, as if it could relieve any of the pressure roiling around under his skin.

You curl closer into him with your lips against his temple. “Does that feel good?”

He can only keen and hope you understand that it’s a plea for more.

You must because a moment later you’re squeezing with your entire hand. It’s— too big of a handful for you. Your fingers are soft and your touch gentle. The visual of the plump flesh of his chest bulging out from between your fingers rewires Jing Yuan’s brain for a craving he never knew possible. A rush of slick gushes from his cunt and— it’s so much. He lurches into your neck, licking blindly at your scent gland. Vaguely, he notices you stiffen and your scent grows a little sharper.

It’s worry. Jing Yuan can’t have that.

With every ounce of his strength, Jing Yuan rolls you below him, and sits on your hips. You let him, so pliant and agreeable, and lay below him. Jing Yuan’s breath catches and drool slips to the corners of his mouth.

You are beautiful. You look debauched, and you’re not the one in heat. You’re flushed and damp with sweat, just as he is. The robe he’d draped you in is mostly open, revealing supple skin and your last bastion of modesty in the form of a cute pair of panties that Jing Yuan will fantasize about later.

You look up at him in awe, lust-hazed just like him. There’s little composure to be had as your fists ball up in the sheets around his thighs. Your gaze goes glassy as you look from his face down to where he’s seated atop you and back again.

“No teeth,” he assures you. It is the last coherent thought he has, if only to provide your some comfort.

You look up at him sweetly and nod, grabbing the plump flesh above his hips. “No teeth.”

(A claim wouldn’t take, anyway. Not really. Omega-to-omega pairings lack the necessary pheromones to stake a claim on each other. The most it would do would indicate that whoever has been bitten is a submissive-leaning packmate. Which— Jing Yuan actually would not mind biting you. He would like his teeth in your neck if you would ever allow him.)

He groans at the thought, lowering his head as a silver mane of hair spills around his face.

Jing Yuan is drenched and hard, leaking from the tip of his cock and seam of his cunt. It’s— filthy. You’re soaked too, with a mix of him and undoubtedly yourself too, though Jing Yuan can’t scent it over the smell of his own heat. It’s regrettable as he is sure the mix of you must be divine. Heavenly.

He wants it in his mouth.

Jing Yuan slinks down your body, licking and sucking at patches of your skin. You try to bat him off, haul him up and away from your own leaking sex, but he resists. He needs a taste or he’ll die, probably. His heat can be quelled in a number of ways, he presumes.

With his face buried in your cunt, surrounded by your scent, the ache for a knot is dulled. When you cry out on his tongue, it is almost deafened.

Jing Yuan drinks you up— he should pay more mind to your clit, probably, if he wants to get you off properly. However, he is so immensely distracted by your entrance and the essence of you that’s leaking out. There’s a rapidly widening damp spot beneath your ass. A steady flow that Jing Yuan needs in him.

He seals his mouth over your cunt, and prods his tongue inside of you. He presses so close, suffocating with his nose tight to your clit, to lap at your insides.

You— you wail above him. Your hands bury in his increasingly tangled mess of hair for any sort of leverage. Jing Yuan doesn’t let up; he doesn’t think he can. Your tone crashes into one that’s softer, more airy, begging for more. For less. Jing Yuan can’t entirely tell. He isn’t sure he cares, truthfully. All he knows is that your thighs tighten around his head with each suck and slurp.

The sound of it is heavenly.

Your thighs press around his face. Flush to his cheeks are the scent glands in the apex of your inner thighs. Not everyone has them, as they’re something of a recessive trait among all secondary genders. The scent that comes off them is your own, however muskier and deeper. It sticks to the inside of his nose and pours down his throat like a nectar. You mewl when he breaks away to lap at one, coaxing out more of the scent. He gluts himself on it.

He needs, he needs, he needs.

“Jing Yuan,” you pant above him, propping yourself up with one arm while the other blindly reaches among his nest. “Do you need it? Knot?”

He—

(He needs to be filled. He isn’t picky if that feeling is quenched with his cunt, ass, throat, or nose. The scent of you is almost enough, even if he clenches down on nothing and feels hollow in his belly. The sensations are so dull with you nearby. He feels heat incensed, but in a way that craves closeness with you and not the manic pursuit of a knot.)

It’s refreshing. Jing Yuan regrets not propositioning you for this treatment sooner.

“Are you offering?” Jing Yuan purrs. He places his thumbs over the scent glands of your inner thighs and presses down on the swell of them, just under your skin.

Your back bends off the bed and you throw your hand over your mouth. Teary eyes meet him and you nod. From the folds of the nest, you pull forth a knotting toy with a shaking grip.

It’s beautiful for a toy. It’s a model that Jing Yuan had seen in a few high-end adverts on the few social medias he moonlighted on. It’s a flesh-like plastic cock, with an inflatable knot at the base. A little, wired remote drags along the blankets of his nest as you hold the phallus out to him. The plastic of the toy is a light gold, cut with veins of blue. It looks otherworldly and unreal. Jing Yuan has never cared for much realism with his toys, though this one is human enough.

He makes a mental note to get Qingzu a bouquet for purchasing it for him on such short notice.

The head of it feels cool against his cunt. It’s a welcome sensation as it feels like his body is burning up from the insight. He lays over you, wrestling you a bit to be flat below him, with his thighs caging yours. He growls when you try to grab the toy from his hands to assist.

It makes you pause.

Your soft palms cup his cheeks, “Do you not want me to help?”

“The angle—” The angle won’t be right, Jing Yuan wants to say. His words feel lost in his throat as he slowly begins to push inside himself. He gasps and tries to duck into your neck, to like and suck at the gland there and feast on your scent.

“I can try—?”

“ No.”

Jing Yuan wants you just like this. In his nest, smelling like him and arousal and safety. The toy that’s sliding into his cunt is mostly irrelevant, as is the twitch of his cock as he slowly and methodically fucks the toy into himself. Little by little, he bullies it into his underused hole. The stretch is— is not bad. It would be far more uncomfortable if he weren’t in heat and pouring slick.

You ask more quietly, just as he bottoms out. You still haven’t let go of his face. “Are you sure?”

He is, but he can’t find the words to say so. Instead, he nods and tucks himself closer to you. You pet down the back of his neck and push on his scent glands. They ache with his heat. The pressure and direct contact makes him grunt as he adjusts to the toy in his cunt.

You hush him and nuzzle in his cheeks, “You’re doing so well. So good, Jing Yuan.”

He keens and pulls back the toy cock, only to shove it back into himself a moment later. Praise from you is a drug. He’s sure. You’re unbearably earnest and sweet and you are too kind to him. You whisper more of them into his ear as he fucks himself, deep and slow. He feels the sentiment of your words more than he hears it. Deeply affectionate and caring. If he were more lucid, he would be disarmed by you, speechless even. Perhaps he is already speechless, but he blames that on the heat haze and how the head of the toy is pressing deliciously into his sweet spot.

He narrows his focus on the spot and fucks him on the toy in earnest.

Jing Yuan will have an arm ache after this. Many aches, actually. It will be worth it. It is easiest to bear with you underneath him, tilting your hips up to grind against his dripping cock. It’s not the friction his body craves, but it’s welcome. It sends sparks down his spine and he whines into your neck.

You nip at his neck, high on the side of it, and Jing Yuan lets loose a cracking moan. It’s almost embarrassingly loud. Were Jing Yuan able to feel shame in that moment, he’d be red-faced.

Instead, he tips his head to the side, allows you room to mouth and suck marks as you desire. You catch on quickly, and hum, licking broad stripes and soaking him in your scent. Your marks. It surrounds him.

He fucks himself on the toy faster.

(It’s nothing like the heats he had while he was mated with Yingxing and Dan Feng. Not at all. They were shorter, back then. Perhaps it was his youth or the relentless pace and haze Yingxing kept that burned Jing Yuan out faster. Or, maybe it was that Dan Feng always made sure he was wrung out, despite not craving him in the same way Yingxing had. It was carnal then. It still is now, but it does not feel as manic. You are gentle without qualifiers, sweet without expectation, and happy to let him rut into you and back onto the toy as much as he pleases. Your kisses are bruising, but not bloody like Dan Feng’s. There’s a different pace, a different scent, and a different intent.)

Jing Yuan once enjoyed the desperation that Yingxing put into everything he did (including him). He had fallen in love with Dan Feng for his poetics and distanced care. You have neither of these. It is unfair, ultimately, for Jing Yuan to draw comparison.

Perhaps, he’ll feel guilty over it later. For now, his arm gives out and he falls into your chest with a keen. His back arches, hips raised, and the new angle is so, so good. You run your hands through his hair, and move your thigh, just right, so he can grind on it to his heart’s content.

He’s close; he can feel it in his belly.

What sends him over the edge is the feel of your lips against his hairline, the way your lips have curled into a soft, easy smile as you kiss him there. You stroke down his back, like how a good lover would.

You are a good lover.

He shudders as orgasm grips him. The sound that rips from his throat is shattering, as overwhelming as the heat that boils over in his guts. And you are such a good lover, that the little remote must have already been in your hand, as in the moment he comes, the knotted base of the toy begins to swell. Jing Yuan can’t— can’t chase his orgasm. He can feel his eyes growing wet while his body feels out of his control (he hates that, he really does). You, however, are a good lover and reach and stretch, matching his angle with the toy and fuck him through it yourself. The knot catches once inside him, then a second time, and with the third, it locks him and the toy together.

And with what can only be called a sob, Jing Yuan fully collapses on top of you.

He can’t keep himself upright, he realizes. His thighs tremble terribly, and his arms are the same. His eyes are filled with tears he didn’t expect and doesn’t know what to do with. It feels vulnerable. Too vulnerable, in a way that Jing Yuan has avoided for centuries now.

Before the feeling can consume him, you’re coaxing him onto his side and wrapping yourself around him. A sheet gets pulled atop the both of you and you’re nosing into him wherever you can.

“It’s okay,” You tell him. “You’re okay, I promise.”

A muffled sound that comes from your throat, followed by the low roll of a purr.

Oh.

All for him?

He shoves himself closer, skin to skin in all the spots he can reach. His tongue laves at your scent glands as his cunt flutters around the toy. He claws at your back before locking his arms around your waist.

You’re purring for him.

He can help but do the same, even chirping without meaning to as he nips at your jaw. Jing Yuan trails his lips to your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. You curl and laugh at his touch, and Jing Yuan steals the lovely sounds from you with a kiss. It’s something deep and consuming, and Jing Yuan needs more of the taste of you. You squirm into it, gasping and opening your mouth for him to explore as he needs. Your openness continues to undo him.

It’s all the reassurance he needs. Any poisonous feelings fall away, and Jing Yuan, for the first time in far too long, finds himself content and knotted.

...

Jing Yuan has never had a heat quite like this one.

It is certainly more mild, and certainly a bit shorter than what he was expecting. The worst of it lasts five days, followed by three days that he can’t quite call post-heat. Though the desire in him is less feverish, he still craves your presence so much it hurts, and the idea of you being out of his nests sends him into a toothy panic those days. The ‘no teeth’ rule is modified to allow some biting, as long as it doesn’t involve any scent glands.

(However, Jing Yuan still would not mind putting a claiming bite on you. He makes a note to bring this up when he’s feeling some clarity of mind and can... attempt to court you properly.)

The most intense days of his heat are spent with a knotting toy in his cunt, rutting against your soft thighs, or with your hands wrapped around his cock. He eats you out whenever he can muster up the energy to shimmy between your legs and luxuriate there. Any down time is spent dozing in the warm sun rays that his bedroom is perfectly placed to receive.

The latter days of his heat, Jing Yuan is more lucid.

It’s in those days he truly enjoys his heat. Though the burn of arousal still lays within him, it is easily tempered with your presence in his nest and your many shared bite marks. Your time awake is spent lazily kissing, speaking in low voices, and sharing laughter and cups of cool water, one after the other.

Jing Yuan, partially, did not think he would ever get to experience this type of connection again. with you or any other partner. The intimacy of the act is so deeply vulnerable, and after the spiritual loss of both Yingxing and Dan Feng, he never endeavored, or wanted to endeavor to, open himself up in that way again.

He, perhaps, convinced himself he did not need to.

(Nevermind the many nights, both heat-addled and otherwise, Jing Yuan spent craving nesting companions. Nevermind how many nights Jing Yuan lay alone, accepting his losses and mourning mates he’d never hold again. Jing Yuan could never choose to be selfish.)

It helped when Yanqing was little. He was just a small pup with golden eyes like Jing Yuan’s and a fiery spirit, even when he was so small. Jing Yuan had never considered himself maternal, however having a pup to take care of brought out latent instincts he’d spent the better part of his life pretending didn’t exist. As Yanqing aged, however, he was less receptive to such affections and connections. After presenting (far too young, poor thing, traumatized body), Yanqing wouldn’t share a nest with Jing Yuan unless he fell ill. Even then, Jing Yuan would have to coax him into it.

It quenched something in him. It allowed Jing Yuan to let himself care in the direct way he craved. With his position as General, how often does get to show care with his hands, and not with his words or stratagems? Not with sacrifice or poetry, but with his body and scent.

Jing Yuan realizes now that there truly have been so many urges and behaviors Jing Yuan simply did not indulge.

And as his heat breaks, Jing Yuan thinks he’d like to start indulging them more.

...

On the last day of his heat, you stir around nightfall. You are exhausted, Jing Yuan knows this. Though his heat has provided him with a surprising amount of stamina, you are in standard condition, and looked wrung out halfway through day two of his heat. Jing Yuan’s grateful you’re as fond of midday naps as he is.

You are cradled against his chest, your cheek pillows on his breast. He’d thrown a robe on while washing up, and hadn’t elected to remove it. The silky texture of it feels lovely against his flushed, sensitive skin. You seem to enjoy it too as you grip at the fabric of it in your sleep, nuzzling into his chest.

Your brow scrunches and a little sound pops from your throat as you try to burrow closer. It’s a hopelessly sweet gesture, desperate and honest. Jing Yuan can’t help but chuckle and smooth a hand over your mussed-up hair.

When your eyes crack open, your voice is raw, “‘S morning?”

“No, nighttime.” Jing Yuan nods to the darkened window.

You raise yourself up just enough to look, hum, and then fall back on top of him, “Feels like it should be morning.”

“We haven’t been keeping a very consistent sleeping schedule,” Jing Yuan rarely does, but he imagines that you and your position with the Sky Faring Commission have quite a regular routine. “You can keep resting.”

“I don’t wanna’,” Though, you shove your nuzzle into his chest, smearing him with your scent. “I wanna stay up and talk to you.”

“Me?” Jing Yuan smiles, smitten. He pinches your cheek. “About anything in particular?”

“... Not yet.” Your eyes slip closed. “Maybe later. I want to say things to you, but I feel... mushy. Inside my head.”

“Pheromone drunk?”

“‘Something like that,” Your words slur. “Not that I’m complaining. You smell so good, Jing Yuan.”

When you say his name, he shudders. The hand that’s been playing with your hand slips to your nape and squeezes. You keen at the contact and tangle your legs with his. It’s an impossible amount of closeness you are seeking, but Jing Yuan must attempt to give it to you. It’s abashed and honest, and in the stillness of night, how can he not indulge?

“Do I?”

“ Mhm.”

“Like what?”

You’re falling asleep, clearly. You’re struggling to keep your eyes open even as you inhale deeply. Your lips part and you take his scent into your mouth.

“Earth after rain,” You hum. “Sunbeam and linen. Warm milk.”

He squeezes you.

(A long time ago, Yingxing had complained about his scent. ‘Complained’. His face had been flushed crimson, telling him how distracting his sweet, rich scent had been. Dan Feng thought it was the funniest thing, considering Yingxing so clearly enjoyed Jing Yuan’s scent, as did he. They’d described it similarly— “petrichor” Dan Feng had told Jing Yuan while sweeping his mane back from his neck— “the smell of sunshine” Yingxing had told Jing Yuan after berating him.)

“How complementary.” Jing Yuan purrs and pulls you closer by the waist. Your face is smushed against his chest, but you don’t complain. You keep your lips parted to enjoy his scent. “And you like it?”

“So much,” You assure him, droopy-eyed.

So good for him, so so good.

Jing Yuan presses the tip of his finger to your lips, a bit chapped from the dehydration and exertion. You chirp with it, a bit more awake.

He hushes you, and pushes his finger further into his mouth, “Sleep now, dear. You need to rest.”

“‘So do ya’,” You try to say, though it comes out garbled as Jing Yuan lays his finger on the flat of your tongue. Your eyes widen and go a bit crossed to look at his wrist, then up to his eyes.

Jing Yuan isn’t entirely sure what compels him, but something does. Gently, he leans down and presses his lips to your forehead. He idles there, and pets down your side.

“I’ll sleep soon, I’m sure you know.” Jing Yuan says softly. “Will you indulge me?”

(He asks to be selfish.)

Without hesitating, you nod.

(And you let him.)

Jing Yuan doesn’t explain himself. He doesn’t need to. Maybe it’s the specific sweetness his scent must take on, or the night air in contrast to the warmth and comfort of his nest, but you understand what he wants and give it to him without so much as a word.

Your lips open a little wider and Jing Yuan slips another finger inside. You stroke your tongue on his fingers as you close your mouth, eyes going dazed and heavy-lidded. You take a deep breath, inhaling his scent into the deepest parts of your lungs. You suck on his fingers gently.

Jing Yuan watches with still, even breaths.

Later, he will analyze why this scratches so many itches in his brain. Why his post-heat mind feels more calm and sated than he thought possible. Why he wants more of this, always, even if he doesn’t have a name for it yet.

For now, he is so, so content to have you this way. You are lulled back to sleep so easily, sucking on his fingers with your cheek still smushed against his breast. Even as you sleep, Jing Yuan doesn’t remove his fingers. He explores the inside of your mouth with gentle, easy pressure, so as to not wake you. It’s exploratory, more than anything.

He plays with you in such a way until he’s too drowsy to continue. Satisfied and warm, he drags you under the covers and holds you close, scenting you one last time before letting himself fall into a contented, new kind of sleep.

...

You depart suddenly, while Jing Yuan is in the kitchen deftly chopping fruits and assembling little parfaits.

You had been in his bathroom, freshening up with whatever products you’d like from his stash. Jing Yuan had left you your own robe for when you exited, quietly beaming that he’d have yet another article with your scent on it.

However, when you do leave the bathroom, you are fully dressed in the day clothes you arrived in a week ago. You stand at the doorway of his kitchen, pausing, wide-eyed.

“I n-need to go,” Your voice wavers, like you’re going to be ill.

Something squeezes in between Jing Yuan’s ribs. There are thin, transparent patches on your neck on either side. Scent blockers. Your eyes look watery. Jing Yuan immediately sets down the knife he had been working with.

“Is everything alright?” asks Jing Yuan. He knows something is wrong, even if he can’t smell you, you’re clearly distressed and disheveled.

“It’s— it’s nothing. It’ll be okay.” You tell him. Your voice trembles and you shake your head.

“Are you sure? I can help.”

“It’s— it’s really nothing. I need to leave. I-I’m really sorry.”

You look from him to the foyer that leads to his front door and back again. There’s a desperate look in your eye that Jing Yuan has never seen with such an intensity before. It makes his heart ache and his hands feel clammy. He sighs.

(And a quiet, ever-present voice in his mind says, “they all leave, eventually.”)

“Alright.” Jing Yuan gives you a smile, the best he can muster. He knows it must be sadder than intended, as your expression falls and you look like you’ve been punched.

“I’m so s-sorry.”

“It’s alright,” It isn’t. Not fully. “Handle whatever it is that you must. I’m only a call away. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”

“Okay.” You take a shaking breath and shudder out the exhale. You’re trying not to cry and it takes everything in Jing Yuan’s being not to rush to you and attempt to mend whatever is causing you distress but—

(He can’t. He can’t do that. You have asked him to leave you be and Jing Yuan has spent his entire life honing his ability not to chase, even when he so, so badly wishes to.)

You give him one final, fleeting look, “Thank you. I— I’ll see you at our next lunch, okay? I’m sorry.”

It looks like there’s more you want to say, but you’re already out the door before you can. Jing Yuan hears it open and shut with a soft thud that vibrates throughout his home. It leaves Jing Yuan standing alone in his kitchen, frozen, while the robe he wears slips down his shoulders. He bears your marks, and reeks of your scent. His nest grows colder each minute. And though his heat has ended, the yearning for you has not.

If anything, the feeling is far stronger than it was before.

He latches onto the fact you will have your lunches. That— he will find some clarity then. That he can inspect you for damage during the next sunshine-filled meal you share, and prod to see if the last week and half did not carry the same type of... meaning for you, as it did Jing Yuan. He will need to make sure you’re well. He’ll fret until then, he knows this.

(A more dormant, possessive part of him wishes he snatched you back from his foyer and threw you back into his nest. If something was wrong, he could. If something needed fixing, he could help. If it were anything official for your work, Jing Yuan would pull any and all strings to get you out of the obligation. If you were hurt, Jing Yuan would do anything to see you better.)

Instead, Jing Yuan idles in his kitchen, feeling struck and helpless. Something in him aches, deep and low, and Jing Yuan lays a hand over his chest and squeezes it into a fist. He had thought he had become used to this type of loneliness, but it aches all the same.

#lore writes #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #hsr x reader #cw omegaverse #ITS HERE... ENJOY!!#part one hehe <33

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sordezos · 1 month

Text

Farewell promise II

Soo this is the second part! hope you like it!

Word count: 2232

Warnings: bit of angst, happy ending tho

Thanks @wososapologist for the amazing ideas!! x

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You open your eyes a minute after trying to relax yourself. You finally turn the engine off and turn your head to the right, logo big enough to make you realize again what you were doing here.

After Ingrid’s departure, you spent one year more at Wolfsburg, but it wasn’t the same, so when an offer from Chelsea appeared, you accepted without hesitation. It was known that you were rather a private person and not so talkative in public, but you and Guro hit it off instantly, become close friends after a few weeks. Time passed, you won your place at the starting squad along with a few titles and being recognized as one of the best wingers.

Your family used to tell you at every call that you had everything: friends, a good job with a good pay and at the peak of your career. At first, you agreed, not even thinking about that person that was on the back on your mind. So every time they asked when you were going to get a boyfriend you just laughed and waved them off, changing the topic after.

If someone asked Guro about your love life, she wouldn’t know what to say. Yes, she has seen you going on dates arranged by her and Erin, but every time you came back, excitement about a second date was never present, you just said the same thing: “We didn’t connect” or “He was nice, but I don’t think we hit it off” and went to prepare dinner. Usually, after you came back the three of you would have dinner and watch some movies. It was there when Guro noticed the way you would fidget with the bracelet placed on your wrist. But she didn’t push it, if you wanted to talk, she would give you all the time you needed.

The season came to an end and a decision had to be made. After Chelsea won the league, offers started to rain, and after talking with your agent about each one, both of you decided for a change. After signing up the contract you went to your shared apartment and shared the news with Guro.

You could tell that she was sad, but the encouraging comments made you think that you did the correct decision. It wasn’t until you were in your bed that you started to overthink, was it a hasty decision? It's true that it was the highest offer by far, but you weren’t sure about a lot of things. Well, about one thing, were you ready to see her again? Will she be happy or mad? Will things be the same? Before you could think more, exhaustion caught up to you and sleep consumed you until the morning.

After the official announcement was made, you went to a goodbye party organized by your now ex-teammates. While the driver got you to your new house after the flight, you took your phone to see the ton of messages from a few of your new teammates. You would lie if you say that disappointment didn’t cross your face when that teammate didn’t send a message.

So now you’re here, sit in your car and looking at the giant FC Barcelona logo on the building on your right, checking the time in order to not be late. Today you and Ona Battle were about to start your season at Barcelona, both looking for a change from the London weather.

The two of you have played together at national team camp, so you were good friends, and that’s why when she knocked of your window and smiled at you that you smiled back and got out of the car.

“Qué tal guapa? Con ganas de empezar?” (What’s up? Eager to start?) she asks you jumping on your back as soon as you get out, happiness radiating from her, so you can’t help it but laugh and take your training bag out of the car “Claro que si, te vas a bajar?” (Of course, but are you going to get down?) you say while you start walking “No” is all she says as she tightens her grip and laugh.

Upon entering the changing room you are meet by cheering and applause, your national teammates happy that the two of you are finally playing with them and not against them. They all hug Ona, and they all hug you, except one person. You sit in your assigned place next to Claudia and Patri, and they instantly start to talk to you about something and not wanting to think too much about her, you join the conversation, taping your wrist at the same time and head to the pitch a few minutes later with them.

Ingrid on the other side of the room, watches you leave and turns to Frido, already regretting not approaching to you a few minutes before. Her friend looks at her confused, and before she can ask any questions, Ingrid takes her hand get them out of the room, heading to the pitch. On their way there, Ingrid explains to her all, and by the time she has finished they are already at the pitch doing some paired drills. Frido takes her wrist taking a better look to the special bracelet and before Ingrid can ask her, Frido starts to scold her for not talking to you before.

From the other side of the pitch you see as she takes Ingrid’s hand rather confused, have you read things wrong? Where they something before and you haven’t seen it? Thankfully Patri seems to read your mind, because the next thing she does is explain to you about what happened between Mapi and Ingrid and the aftermath of it, telling you about how Ingrid ended things because she said that she feel things for other person, and before she could tell you anything about said person, the whistle blew and the team got prepared for a practice match.

To your luck, you were put in the same team as Ingrid, and both of you stood there, a few meters apart. Not knowing what to say, should you say something about what happened back there? Say that you’re sorry for her breakup? You finally decided on your words, so you turned around to look at her, just to find that she was looking at you. You finally opened your mouth only for the both to talk at the same time. A laugh came out from your mouth and Ingrid could feel the feelings that she has tried to put down for years coming to the surface at once. Before you could ask her why she looked serious the whistle let all of you know that the match was on, so you turned around and gave your best on the grass.

1 goal and two assists is what you get by the time practice has finished. Making your way to the water bottles you receive several congratulations from your teammates, more than one highlighting how you and Ingrid seems to read each other’s mind with your passes.

You finally go back to the changing rooms along Marta and Alexia, talking about strategies for the next match, taking the tape off your wrist and giving your opinion on a few plays. What you didn’t see is how Frido and Ingrid were behind, and Ingrid was listening to her teammate about the plan that she made for her in order to win you again. Ingrid herself building up the courage to talk to you after all the team left the locker room.

Taking your time on the shower, trying to get rid of your already sore muscles you hear the changing room door opening and closing, thinking it was the last teammate leaving, therefore you thought you were the only one left.

As you get dressed up and exit the showers, you're surprised to find Ingrid waiting for you by your locker. You send her a smile, and she smiles back looking more… relaxed?

But there's something different about Ingrid now—she seems more confident, more self-assured. And as you study her face, you can't help but notice the subtle changes that time has wrought. It's clear she's grown since you last saw her, both as a player and as a person.

Meanwhile, Ingrid studies your face and doesn’t fall to notice how now you are a bit taller than her, how you have let your hair grow longer, and how you seem more mature, looking at a small scar that you had since you were little just above your eyebrow.

Ingrid's eyes twinkle mischievously as she catches you staring, and she smirks teasingly. “Like what you see?” she quips, her tone playful.

You roll your eyes, unable to resist teasing her right back. “Please, I've seen better,” you retort, earning a mock offended gasp from Ingrid.

It seems like the right moment, so you decide to offer your condolences about her breakup with Mapi, not wanting to intrude.

Ingrid's expression flickers with a hint of sadness before she offers a small smile. “Yeah, we broke up,” she admits, her voice tinged with regret. “I realized I still had feelings for someone else.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words, a glimmer of hope sparking within you. Could it be...?

You catch the subtle shift in Ingrid's demeanor, the way her eyes search yours for understanding. You don’t know from where the confidence came from, but with a teasing grin, you nudge her playfully. “Oh, so you finally realized you couldn't live without me, huh?”

Ingrid laughs, a sound that you wouldn't mind listening to every day. “Something like that,” she teases back, her eyes dancing with mischief.

As you continue to chat, Ingrid's gaze drifts to the bracelet adorning your wrist—the same bracelet she gave you years ago before she left. Her expression softens, and she reaches out to touch it gently, her fingers tracing the familiar pattern.

“I can't believe you still have this,” she murmurs, her voice filled with affection.

You shrug nonchalantly, trying to hide the warmth that spreads through you at her touch. “What can I say? It's a good luck charm.”

Ingrid smiles, a genuine smile that reaches her eyes. “Well, it certainly seems to be working,” she says softly, her gaze lingering on yours.

Is when she let go of your hand that you notice her bracelet. “And what do we have here?” you ask her now taking her hand in yours.

She just smiles and shrugs “What can I say? I have excellent taste in jewelry.”

Your laughter fills the room, a melodic sound that sends shivers down her spine. “ Well, I can't argue with that, princesa” you quip, your eyes sparkling with affection.

Then, in a bold move that takes you by surprise, Ingrid asks if you'd like her to show you around the city.

As Ingrid's words hang in the air, the tension between you becomes palpable. Your hidden feelings under the surface threatening to scape at any moment.

Without a word, you step closer, your hands finding their way to Ingrid's waist, pulling her gently towards you. Ingrid's eyes widen slightly in surprise at the sudden intimacy, but she doesn't pull away. Instead, her hand finds the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as she draws you closer.

The kiss is hesitant at first, a tentative exploration of emotions long suppressed. But as the seconds pass, it deepens. Your heart pounds in your chest as you lose yourself in the taste and feel of Ingrid's lips against yours.

When you finally pull back, breathless and exhilarated, Ingrid's eyes are filled with a mixture of wonder and longing. You can see the uncertainty lingering in her gaze, a silent question waiting to be answered.

“So, is that a yes?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, her fingers still tracing patterns on your skin.

“Well, I don't know,” you say, feigning uncertainty. “I've heard you're a bit rusty when it comes to giving tours. Might need a more experienced guide.”

Ingrid rolls her eyes playfully, a smirk playing on her lips. “Oh, please. I practically wrote the guidebook on this city,” she retorts, her tone teasing.

As Ingrid's fingers continue to trace patterns on your skin, you can't help but tease her in return, savoring the playful banter that has always been there between the two of you.

“Well, in that case,” you say, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes, “I suppose I'll have to take my chances with the self-proclaimed expert guide.”

Ingrid chuckles softly, her smirk widening into a grin. “You won't regret it, elsking” she assures you, her voice laced with amusement.

With a playful grin, you lean in once more, capturing her lips in another sweet kiss. When you finally pull back, you can't help but laugh. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for, don't we cariño?” you remark, a hint of teasing in your voice.

Ingrid's eyes sparkle with amusement as she nods, a playful glint in her gaze. “Oh, definitely,” she replies, her tone filled with promise. “But I have a feeling we'll have no trouble catching up.”

And before you know it, you are hand in hand walking towards your car and talking about the movie you are going to see tonight.

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I just hope ya'll liked it, if you have any request feel free to tell me!

Any ideas for the next one?

#ingrid engen x reader #woso x reader #woso community #woso imagine #barca femini x reader

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historiaxvanserra · 1 year

Text

Reverence

Pairing: Azriel x female!reader

Description: Azriel’s love had always been rough-edged but in the soft light of morning his love is reverent, devout, almost holy.

Word count: 2.8K

Warnings: 18+ only! this wasn’t a request it’s just shameless smut without plot (dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral sex, etc).

This is the sequel to Ruin but they can be read separately. Part II here.

Tossed from the bosom of dreams and into the arms of a pastel morning you wake with a jolt.

The sun perforates through the thin satin of the curtains and fractured light illuminates the room in golden shadows. It’s a myriad of dancing light, like a broken kaleidoscope, sparkling and shattered– but beautiful still. The sun soaks your dewy skin with her burning kisses, searing white hot into naked flesh and the smell of sleep and sex lingers in the air. You lie cocooned between creased sheets, and recount the night before; his rough touches, and the feeling of his calloused palms as they gripped your hips, his chest and how it tasted of salt, his lips and the curses that fell from them like prayers as pleasure washed over you both.

Your fingers ghost over the bruises that he has left. They bloom like roses on the expanses of exposed skin. The stirring of the body next to you, pulls your from the thoughts of last nights tryst. Rolling onto your side you’re greeted with Azriel’s sleeping figure; his hair falls in messy strands onto his face, the longer hairs sticking to his forehead that is coated in a thin veil of sweat, his long eyelashes press against the tops of his fine high cheekbones and the dull crescent moons under his eyes are hardly visible, his mouth parts slightly, soft snores erupting from him. You watch closely as the rise and fall of his chest lulls you into a hazy state wakefulness. He looks at peace in this light, the shadowed sunbeams ribboning onto his sleeping form casting him in a heaven-yellow light.

Lost in introspective thoughts you don’t realise that he has woken from his slumber. His eyes flutter open, hazel irises illuminated in the daylight, flecks of gold and amber that melt into leafy green. Your eyes bore into his and the ghost of a smile forms on your face as he rubs the remnants of sleep from his eyes.

Still half-dreaming Azriel snakes his arms around you, pulling you closer to him, feeling the heat of his body and the beating of his heart in his chest that rises and falls in a steady rhythm. His mouth runs blazing trails of messy kisses down your neck and along your collarbones, nipping at the sunkissed skin of your shoulders and whispering words of adoration into perfumed skin. The memories of not so distant fever dreams, passion still hot in his veins only this morning in the soft, pale light his love is gentle, careful, almost holy.

You relish in his tight embrace and the heat of his skin thaws the cold morning chill away. Him and the sun; burning and ardent. You sigh contently as the gentle kisses he places at the base of your neck become more urgent, breathing him in as he runs his fingers through your hair, you are reminded what heaven smells like; icy air and cedar. Brushing a stray hair from his forehead you stretch in his hold and you bruise like fruit flesh in his tender grip.

Azriel shifts in his position, rolling onto his forearms and his hands settle between your shoulders and your head, sweeping your hair which has fallen in haphazard curls away from your face. Your body curls into him, fitting together like it was always supposed to be this way-- you and him in the pale morning light.

Swallowed by his height and the expanses of his broad shoulders you run your hands over the taut muscles beneath his skin. As your body, still flirting with sleep, melts into him, you snake your arms around his neck, one hand stroking the loose strands of chestnut at the nape of his neck and the other tracing the inky patterns along his right shoulder blade. Your lips meet his slowly, breathing him in with ardour and adoration, deepening the kiss, your swollen lips pressing into his harder this time. Azriel’s hands come to either side of your face, cradling you in his palms, the calloused pad of his thumb tracing soft circles onto the skin of your cheek, running along your cheekbones, temple and jaw. His lips move slow against yours as you melt into each other. He sighs into your mouth, taking you into him, clinging to you, his breaths synchronising with yours and lulling you into a state of bliss.

The way he touches you is full of devotion and something akin to worship. He looks at you more reverently than he does any divine being or High-Fae. He doesn’t know if he believes in a The Mother but looking at you all sleepy, and sunkissed and ethereal, wrapped up in divine light he believes in something. He’s been searching for too long for a place to worship and you, whispering his name like sin against his skin and your hands scorching his flesh, seem the closest to the next world that he will ever get.

He rocks gently into you, his lips dragging across the skin of your neck, brushing his knuckles over the soft, exposed planes of skin at your ribcage, only stopping to whisper in a language you can’t understand, words comparable to prayer.

In those fleeting moments, doused in pale light as he moves over you, it’s clear that the need for each other outweighs all else. Yearning for release, longing for him makes everything more intoxicating. Your breathing grows laboured and heavy with a serene bliss, your senses blur, drunk on his touch and the heat of his skin on yours. His calloused hands, once covered in blood, kiss hymns up your sides, scars grazing over yours, skin whispering and limbs, like heavenly bodies caress your supple skin as they curled into each other, entwining two bodies and becoming one.

His breath hitches in his throat, coming out in breathy rasps as he comes to rest upon your hip, you push your bare hips into his. His cock hardens, silken and cool marble beneath your touch as you press against him in an unyielding rhythm. He groans, his eyes darkening and boring into yours, lips parting and eyes drifting shut so beautifully that your walls tighten at the sight of him. You stroke your hand up and down his length, growing harder under the delicate touch of your hand– the hand of the Gods he thinks to himself.

Azriel pulls your hand from him and entwined his fingers with your own, kissing you, he sucks your lower lip lightly, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. He begins to kiss down your jaw, the crook of your neck, the base of your throat and collarbones, the peaks of his knuckles ghosting the skin of your hips and thighs. Dipping his head into the valley of your breasts, his nose and beard grazing the silken skin as he hums against you, taking a hardening nipple in his mouth while he massages the other. He has committed the maps of your body to memory; always able to find a home in you, returning to those sweet spots he knows make you weak. Giving yourself over to him you exhale, arching your back into him, his one hand holding you, where your back curves away from the bed and into him.Your lips parting with a gasp as his tongue runs light circles over your nipples, flicking them slowly, the grain of his stubble rough against your softness.

Sinking slowly down the curves of your body, savouring you in the light of the rising sun, Azriel prays to you, his words and his touch like velvet over your skin and into your ears. Whispers of worship and the sound of his lips on your skin, marking you as his. You thread your fingers through the tresses of his head when his head settles between your parted thighs kissing odes into the skin there.

You cry out softly, gentle rasps, like hymns when his tongue begins to circle your clit. Sliding his strong arm over your hips so he can hold you still, his muscles, taut and contracting beneath the skin, he holds you down with ease. You’re painted in a blush the colour of the dawn sky as he runs his tongue up your folds, watching your hips struggle to roll in his hold, his pupils dilating and sharpening, a look of devout adoration glinting in his hazel eyes.

Azriel’s tongue sends waves of pleasure rippling through you, heat that creeps up your spine and pools in the pit of your stomach. Your mouth falls agape, a string of curses and praises falling from your pink lips. A soft furrow of your brows in an effort to stop yourself coming undone. Your pleasure and heavenly moans only make him grow more ravenous, he hums deeply as his tongue, inside of you, causes your hips to roll in protest. Sliding his hands around your hips he holds you to him, continuing his assault against you until you’re begging to come undone, begging for him. He draws his lips away from your core, only obliging you by pressing two fingers into your tightness, your walls fluttering around him. His lips fall open, laboured breaths falling from his lips in curses.

You fist at the sheets, needing him close as your body begins to writhe under him, the slow, hypnotic movements of his fingers making you ache. He returns to you, kissing you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue before pressing his forehead to yours and watching you as he thrusts his finger inside of you; a thin veil of sweat on his brow, lips parted and through his eyes darkened in lust you swear you see his soul.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers, silencing your gasps with kisses, “I’ve got you.”

Your walls begin to clench around his fingers and Azriel’s breath catches in his throat, his eyes leave yours, that search for heaven behind his, to watch himself once more, his fingers curling into your sweet spot, swearing before your permit him to put his lips upon yours again.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, “Come for me.”

Unravelling, coming undone is easy with his words in your ears and his arms sheltering you, cradling you against his chest as your body quakes with the rippling waves of your orgasm as you come, your cries quiet against Azriel’s lips.

Gentle and unyielding, he doesn’t give you time to recover, sitting up and pulling you into his lap, your ankles digging into the base of his spine and the length of his cock, like marble smooth and hard at your entrance. Adjusting to his size you hold Azriel’s face and look down to his parted lips, drinking in his breathless sighs and whispers of reverence as you roll your hips against the thickness of his cock. Swearing sharply, he arches himself into you filling you. His knuckles grazing the knots in your spine, he holds his lips against your forehead as his thumb traced the outline of your swollen lips, smiling against you when your kiss the calloused pad of his thumb.

“you okay, pretty baby?” Azriel murmurs, voice soft and soothing against your skin, nodding in response to your hum of agreement. “Always so good for me.”

Slowly at first, he fucks into you, gradually gaining momentum as your tightness yields to him. You’re left unable to answer his question, moaning into the crook of his neck, trying to muffle your cries. He combs the messy strands of hair that has fallen into your face with his fingers, curling them away from your face while your name, like some ancient prayer, falls from his parted lips. His hands roam your body, touching with delicate caresses the curves and contours of your body, his arm resting on the bottom of your spine, his hand splayed across the small of your back as he thrusts into you, your hips rolling to meet his movements.

“Don’t stop,” you say airily, tugging on the dark hair that rests at the nape of his neck.

His head falls back, eyes closed and lips parted as he draws closer to his own orgasm. Azriel’s head falls to rest in the crook of your neck, his forehead settling onto your skin marked with the ghosts of his adoration. Unable to find the words, he only growls vows into your skin as his hand on your back pulls you further into him.

With your bliss encroaching the world seems to blur at its edges, bursts of colour and white light momentarily blinding as he fucks into you at an unforgiving pace, his thrusts rough and sporadic as he teeters on the edge of heaven.

Azriel moves you upon his cock and it brings a blush to your skin, pink staining the exposed flesh of your chest. Your moans now little more than whispers as he brings you to the brink of paradise, your body wrapped around his as he lays you back down, pressing your into the bed. Azriel pulls away admiring the glow of your skin in the morning light as the sun peeks over the horizon; the pink and gold sun beams falling in technicolour ribbons and becoming tangled between the waves of your hair. As he comes back to you, pressing his lips roughly to yours his hips begin to snap into yours at a faster pace than before, desperate for release. His lips never leave yours, holding your face in his hands again, thumb rubbing circles into your skin. He groans against you, your ankles crossed against the small of his back, holding him in place.

Your orgasm stirs in your stomach like a raging tempest, whispers of pleasurel dissolves into profanity. Stroking your cheeks, running his thumb over your jaw and up your neck, and whispering in your ear those words that only he knows, he sanctifies your body, bringing a hand to your clit, rubbing slow circles and coaxing your orgasm closer still, so you give yourself over to him and sacrifice never felt so unholy.

Azriel’s name once fierce on your tongue dissolves like sugar, like prayer– you whisper it. Unholy against rose petal lips. It catches in your throat like confessional and he fucks you like a God. Thrusting deeply into you, as his lips leave blazing kissed along your collar bones, his thrusts don’t slow even as the heat of him spills inside you.

There’s no scripture that ever foretold you of such sweet agony; his hands in yours, or his lips that atone a mass across your heaving chest, or the blasphemy he rasps when he spills into you. His fingers bruise like sin into the cradle of your hips. When he’s buried so deeply inside of you until the only word you know– his name– falls from your lips. You wonder if other angels fell so sweet.

Laying you back down on the bed he sits back, pulling out of you watching his orgasm spill from you with a lustful gaze. He rubs comforting circles into your hip with his thumb, his head tilts slightly as he watches you; the rise and fall of your chest beginning to even out, his skin on yours grounding you to this earth. Your skin sheened with a thin veil of sweat, pallid in the divine light of high summer.

Crawling to him, kissing his damp chest that tastes of salt and sweat, and taking his softening cock in your hand, his moans are gospel against your bare chest. Azriel groans softly, his eyes closing as your hand on his skin is a familiar paradise.

You lean your forehead against his and graze the tip of your nose with his, as your lips moved to meet him halfway. Before he kisses you, those amber eyes lock with yours and linger there, as if to convey what your words could not. The harsh edges of your narrow eyes soften. He looks at you in a way that assures you it will be this way, always. All you can do is kiss him, inhaling slowly as you press your lips to his. A warmth settles in your chest when his eyes catch yours again. Laying on his chest, melting into him again, you breathe him in and he hums gently. The heat of the sun and the comforting silence lulls you into a misty wakefulness.

Your finger ghosts his tattoos where the sharp blade of his shoulder meets inky black shadow and your legs entangle themselves in his as he murmurs vows of reverence in a foreign tongue against your dewy skin. The sun finally breaks over the horizon, the veins of amber, topaz and molten gold illuminate the sky.

It’s then he realises that not all angels are made of flesh and feather, milk and honey, molten gold and stardust; some are made of scars and sin, sleep and sweat, flesh and blood and in the heaven yellow light you look holy to absolve him

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar smut #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #azriel headcanons #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x female!reader #azriel x you

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3rachasdomesticbanana · 10 days

Text

Among Strangers II | Han + Bang Chan

Synopsis: You know nothing is ever as it seems. You never assume and you always expect for things to get a little messy. You didn't expect for things to end up like this though. Not like this...

Pairings: CEO Bang Chan x AFAB Reader x Han Jisung

Content Includes: smut, non idol au, light bondage, possessiveness, biting/marking, oral (m+f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie lots, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mfm, angst, jealousy, light fluff, happy ending.

an: there's a lot going on in this one and I'm sure I missed some content to list. If you feel that I should add it please let me know♡ Also forgive me if this doesn't do justice to part one... I tried ಠ⁠﹏⁠ಠ

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

PS: Those who asked to be tagged/asked for part 2 are tagged. If you want to be removed please let me know.

Also thank you to everyone who expressed their love for part one. Even if I didn't respond, your words meant more than you can ever imagine, more than I can even say♡

It's been a whole week since that steamy, unforgettable encounter with your hot new boss, Chris, in that crowded subway car. Now, every time you catch each other's gaze at work, it's like reliving that sweet sinful moment all over again. The memory of his hands on your skin and the warmth of his chest pressed against your back still lingers. The tension between you two is palpable, and your cheeks flush hot every time he brushes past you in the hall. His playful smile, those charming dimples, they only add fuel to the fire that continuously burns in you and the physical reactions your body has when he's near.

You've tried avoiding him but he's everywhere. Every turn there he is, dark eyes, hair perfectly styled and outfit tailored in all black perfection looking runway ready. Each time you've seen him and turned to walk in the opposite direction, there he is. It's like he spawns in front of you and there's nothing you can do but blush at the sight of him as he walks away with some important looking people. It isn't until Friday at the end of your shift that he catches you in the staff break room when you go to get your thermos from the fridge.

“You've been avoiding me, y/n ” Chris states, his voice low, walking into the room and shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

You spin around startled, heart in your throat and too stunned to speak. The top three buttons of his black dress shirt are undone and his sleeve have been rolled up halfway. He looks breathtaking and the sudden sight of him throws you off. You didn't see much of him today so you figured he either was too busy or just left earlier but here he is looking just as sexy as he did that day on the subway. The way he’s looking at you right now you don't trust yourself being alone with him. Not while still being at work where there's a risk of anyone catching you two. Swallowing nervously you back up as he starts to walk towards you smiling.

“Do I make you nervous y/n?” He asks, getting closer to you. Your heart is pounding far too fast now. It would be a miracle if he couldn't hear it himself. Why is he making you react this way?

“No.” Your voice comes out small and weak as you lie. He can see the way your chest rises and falls rapidly that you're full of shit.

When he reaches you, your back is against the counter and he cages you with his arms, hands on the edge of the counter. You smell so good to him and he loves the soft blush on your cheeks. He wants to see it deepen while he's deep inside you. Every time he saw you earlier in the week he could feel his cock stiffen at the memory of your cunt around him. He wanted nothing more than to take you and bend you over his desk.

Just yesterday he lost it when he saw you in the hall wearing all black like him. He couldn't help but wonder if you did it on purpose. The tight black skirt that reached your knees hugged your curves and the blouse you wore made his imagination run wild. He took his erection in his hands in his office thinking about how pretty you would look on your knees with all of him down your throat.

“I could have you right here, right now y/n. I want to. Do you want me to?” You bite your lip and nervously look at the door behind him. “It's locked. Just say the word.”

You open your mouth to speak only to close it and nibble on your lip with your face full of uncertainty. It isn't that you don't want him. You positively want him in the worst way, in every way possible, yet you hesitate still. He's watching you, still smiling sweetly waiting for your answer and you can't help but notice the barely visible freckles that pepper his handsome face. They go from his cheek bones and up around the outside of his eyes like stars. You're lost in his beauty when you notice how red his ears have gotten and he chuckles.

“Like what you see y/n?” He teases trying to sound cocky but there's a shyness to his words. You take him by surprise when you nod and finally speak up.

“Yes. To both of your questions. My answer is yes.” You tell him and his brows go up in surprise before his hands are on your hips and he's kissing you, groaning when your lips make contact.

You wondered how those lush full lips would feel on yours and it's like nothing you could've imagined it to be like. His lips are soft and taste of strawberries as his tongue glides over yours before he nibbles on your bottom lip. Just with a kiss he makes you feel weightless, like you're suspended in the air. As the kiss grows more intense you can taste his need and Chris is lifting you up sitting you down on the countertop standing between your legs.

“Fuck y/n, do you have any idea how crazy I was feeling the whole week without hearing from you?” He asks after pulling away from your lips. “Nothing I did satisfied my hunger. Only your cunt can do that.” He kisses you again and rubs his hard bulge over your clit through your dress and hitches up the hem.

He reaches between you both and with his fingers rips your thong like it was made out of paper. Your moans are loud with shock but muffled by the kiss. He pulls back and looks at you with eyes like embers and kneels between your legs. He wastes no time in diving his hot tongue inside of you. He shows no mercy on your cunt and it doesn't take long to feel that electric sensation in you build but he stops just before you can reach your climax. He growls “no.” when he feels your muscles tighten around his tongue.

He looks up at you, his neat hair now a mess because of your greedy fingers and he says, “You'll cum on my cock again. I've got to feel you bear hug my cock like last time y/n.” He says standing up straight, flicking his belt out of the loops and it falls to the sides as he begins to unbutton and unzip his slacks. “I'd bound your wrist with my belt if I wasn't so fucking desperate to feel you.” With a clack his pants hit the ground and he snaps into your drenched sex hard.

In one thrust he's completely inside of you with a groan deep in his throat from the pleasure. Your eyes are on the ceiling, mouth hung open in a silent Oh. A moan that got stuck somewhere in your throat, lost in oblivion. You forget all about where you are, only that you can finally wrap your legs and arms Chris's muscular body and grind your pussy into him as he fucks you instead of having to be restricted. His cock feels so much lengthier this way and each time he bottoms out your moans get so loud you have to bite down on his shoulder over the neatly pressed black cotton of his shirt.

“Fuck y/n, I knew you'd feel amazing around me like this. Free to move, free to… ah. Free to crush me with your thighs.” He tells you and his arm wraps around your waist tighter. “Come back to my place after work tomorrow baby.” It's not really a question, though if you said no he wouldn't force you. He knows your mind is so muddled with lust and passion that you'll agree. Because you need him right now, because you're so close.

“Yes! Oh god Chris fuck. Yes I'll come. Fuck i'm gonna cum.” You gasp. Every breath leaving your lungs is cut short with each of his rough thrusts and he smirks against your neck.

“Yeah baby, thatta girl. Cum on Chris's cock. You can do it for me. Be as fucking loud as you want. No one can do anything about it. This building is mine and so is this pussy.” He grunts, his body trembling.

Although it's only the second time, you've noticed that he sets claim to you when he's close to cumming. When he really relaxes and lets go, he loses all of his composure.

“Y/n, don't hold back princess, I need to hear you. I wanted to hear you moan my name on that fucking Subway to let everyone around us know that it was me making you feel good.”

Instead you bite through the fabric of his shirt harder making him hiss and slam into your cunt harder than he has. The sensation makes you come crashing down shuddering and whimpering into his shirt as your cunt convulses around his cock. He keeps his thrusts going, pushing past your muscles that tighten. He's groaning loud, not caring about who walks past the break room door. Every curse, every praise can be heard by anyone within fifteen feet of the room.

“That's it. Fuck, oh yeah baby keep cumming for me, don't stop beautiful. Make a fucking mess on my cock.” He groans, slamming his cock into you and rotating his hips.

He could very well cum right now, fill your pussy just like he did last week but he's holding back because he wants you sore and spent when you go home. He wants your mind on nothing but his cock until he sees you again.

“Mm fucking hell. You like that don't you? Yeah I can tell you do. Your pussy tells me just what I need to know baby girl.”. He breathes, voice sounding strained.

He feels like he's going to go insane. The veins in his neck, arms and hands are prominent showing just how hard he's fucking you and how much he's straining himself. It's taking a lot for him to hold back and wait for you to cum again especially when you arch your back like that, eyes shut, mouth hanging open and whispering his name over and over. It's a beautiful fucking sight to him. He should've waited until he had you in his bed but soon as he saw you step off the elevator and walk into this room his feet were moving. He meant every word when he said that nothing could satisfy his hunger except for your cunt but now he's not even sure that'll do it. He still feels like a starving man even now that he's balls deep inside of you, ready to coat your walls white.

“Gonna cum, I can't- mm! I can't… I can't fucking hold it anymore y/n, shit!.”

You open your eyes and find his eyes on you, round and glassy like he's high. His face and ears are red and his bottom lip is pulled in-between his teeth grunting into you. You feel his cum filling you up and the pressure sends another orgasm ripping through your body. You're both shuddering and out of breath and equally both craving more.

“Shit that was fucking intense y/n.” He whispers, still feeling your cunt fluttering around his cock like butterfly wings.

The clock on the wall behind Chris reads 7:40pm and you should've been home an hour ago but right now, Chris is intent on helping you clean up. Brushing a soft clean handkerchief that he pulled from his pocket over your sensitive core sending jolts throughout your body and his sly smile says how much he's enjoying himself.

“I think you're enjoying yourself too much Mr. Bang.” You tease watching his hands between your legs. He chuckles and looks up at you, stuffing the cloth back into his pocket along with your shredded thong when he's done and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“I enjoy myself plenty around you y/n if you haven't noticed. I'm sure I'll enjoy myself even more. Meet me in the parking garage tomorrow after work?” He asks and you nod. “Sweet then I'll see you then.” With a wink he leaves you alone in the break room blinking and shaking your head with a small laugh.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

With a groan, your body sags against your front door soon as you step foot into your apartment. Kicking your heels off you watch as they clatter and go skidding across the hardwood floor. You're in need of a hot shower, it's been too long of an evening for you on top of work and Chris cornering you in the break room. Never in your wildest fantasies did you think you'd be doing something like this. All because you fucked your boss in a crowded subway car.

You shake your head at the memory of the moment he showed a glimpse of who he truly was that day. He knew you worked for him before he even made a move. That didn't stop him and as you walk further into your apartment you wonder if he'll regret anything in the long run. Lost in thought you're oblivious to the large shadowy figure standing inside the dark bathroom waiting for you to walk past.

Soon as you're past the open door the figure emerges and a hand goes around your mouth while the other traps both of your wrists, holding them behind your back. The screams you let out are muffled as you try to shake free but it's useless. Whoever has you is strong and they're not letting go. Your only option left is to fight. Fight to win just like your friend Minho taught you. As you raise your leg, intending to kick it back, a dark whisper against your ear stops you cold.

“I wouldn't do that y/n.” Says the voice, raspy and deep.

Your eyes go round at the sound of your name like that. It's full of such anger and venom. It turns your blood icy.

“Fucker! Let… Go.” You mumble loudly but it just sounds like, “Mm! Mmpf.. mmm.”

Your captor laughs darkly behind you and holds you tighter making you groan uncomfortably by their strength. “I'm loving these noises that you're making y/n. Is this all it took in order for me to hear you sound like this? Shit, baby.”

You roll your eyes and when you smile, the man lets your mouth free to speak, “Jisungie baby, I always sound like this for you.”

Your boyfriend Jisung chuckles and licks your neck right over the hickey that Chris gave you last week. The color has faded some but Jisung will just bite and suck the same area to make it come back.

“That's my lovely baby. You're going to be loud for me aren't you jagi?” He asks, still buried in the crook of your neck. “I need you baby. Need you so bad. Need to remind you whose pussy this is. God it's always so hot watching another guy enjoy what's mine.” You feel him smirk on your neck.

That damn smirk. You almost said fuck it that day in the subway train car when he looked at you like that. That smirk always makes you wet. It's so cocky, so confident, so… Jisung. This game the two of you have, has been going on for so long you never know when it starts and ends or if it actually ends for that matter. The plan is always the same, pick up a guy at the bar and bring him back home where Jisung sits in the shadows to watch you get your back blown out. Afterwards he fucks you even harder than the guy did all with the warm cum of another man still inside you. It's a win-win you think. You like being watched and Jisung loves to watch. But that night you ran into Chris was a pure accident. Since it was the middle of the week the bar was dead. Boredom muddled your mind and when you saw that your boyfriend was behind you, you had the brilliant idea of playing cat and mouse. You just didn't expect to get fucked in public let alone to be fucked by your boss.

“I'm relentless, am I now? hm? That's what you told him that day right lovely? Hm?” He hums against your neck before biting down over the mark making you gasp that soon transitions into moan trailing off into silence. He sucks down hard and when your body turns to liquid he's picking you up and taking you into the bedroom you share.

“Yes…” You hedge and he smirks again before kissing you rough.

“Mmm gonna show your pussy just how relentless I really am. Do you still feel his cum inside of you my love?” Jisung questions you sweetly. You told him about why you were late when you got into your car to drive home. He was mad he didn't get to watch but you knew he'd be waiting at home, hard and in need of your sore pussy. When you nod he bites his lips. “Fuck.”

He tosses you onto the bed and is on top of you before your body can stop bouncing. His hands roam all over your body like he hasn't memorized every inch of it over the past 4 years you've been together. Jisung undresses you, tossing your clothes into the open closet. When he sits up to take his shirt off you catch him off guard by biting his left pec. His legs shake and his arms fly around you.

“Again jagi.” He demands, twisting around and falling back onto the bed with you on top.

His chest is littered in bite marks and his erection is now too painful for him to handle. You take care of him, removing his baggy black acid wash jeans. Your aim isn't as good as his and when you toss them over your shoulder they hit the wall. You both laugh at your clumsiness and his eyes are so full of love. You love your boyfriend, never once has any man you've slept with threatened the bond you two have. Jisung has never been jealous even when you're arching your back and moaning while someone else fucks you senseless. Because he knows that this is where you always end up in his arms.

When you take his cock into your hands still smiling wide while lining him up with your entrance, he caresses your body and whispers, “I love you my baby.”

With a smile that grows as well as your arousal you sink down taking every inch of him and moan, “I love you too Jisung.”

You ride him until your legs wobble, two orgasms in and he still isn't ready to let you go. He wasn't kidding when he told you he'd show just how relentless he is. Flipping you over onto your back he fucks two more orgasms from you and only then does he cum. Claiming your body and heart as his. Neither of you plan on moving from where you are, too spent to lift your heads off the pillow. But after a quick nap your activities resume. Following into the shower, to the kitchen and back into the bedroom until late in the night.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I don't know Ji, should we really keep this going? He's my boss, this is different than some rando in a bar babe.” You sigh, holding your phone in your hand.

Today was your off day but Chris got your number from your file at work and texted you wondering if you were still down to meet up. You were having second thoughts about the whole game now. This could get really messy if it starts conflicting with work. Jisung walks over to where you stand in the kitchen and wraps you in his arms.

“What is it baby? Are you afraid I'll get upset? Why would I when I know that the only one that can fuck you right is me.” He gives you a cocky grin and kisses your forehead. When he looks at you again he's got a serious expression on his face. “If things get to be too much we'll stop, baby. I promise.”

You nod, still feeling a little indecisive but not wanting to worry Jisung. He needs all his focus on this song he's writing for a big client of his. Some guy named Seungmin, who's a pretty big deal you've been told. It's just nerves you tell yourself. You're just nervous since Jisung won't be around like he normally is. It's definitely not because you're worried about how Chris makes you feel.

“Come straight home after you leave his place baby. I'll miss you if you stay too long.” He pouts a little, making you smile.

“You know I hate being away from you for too long, Ji.” You tell him before leaving the apartment.

The whole drive to the parking garage of CBO your heart would not stop racing and your hands, sweaty on the steering wheel, began to shake when you pulled into the dim garage.

Get a hold of yourself y/n, shit. If Ji isn't worried then no reason I should be right?

Your little pep talk in the car is cut short when you see Chris walking out of the elevator looking hot in a plain black tee and black jeans. Your heart skips a beat and you force yourself to move. When he spots you stepping out of your car his reaction to you wearing a white tank top and denim jeans is just about the same as yours only he becomes instantly erect at the sight of you.

“Sup gorgeous?” He greets you, putting his hands in the front pocket of his jeans, giving you a cheeky lopsided grin.

You giggle and feel yourself relaxing at how casual he looks and talks to you. “Sup yourself Chris.”

“Come on let's get out of here before I fuck you in the backseat of my car. I don't think I can keep my hands to myself seeing you looking like that.”

He walks in the direction of his car and you mutter under your breath, “Feeling's mutual Bang.” Too quiet for him to hear.

Twenty minutes later you're underneath him, a whining begging mess, tied up to his bed and overstimulated beyond your limits just like he's dreamt about. He's brought you to the brink of cumming so many times you've lost count. You're not even sure how long you've been in this bed, you're only aware of the sounds that Chris conjures up from you and the satisfied moans of his that follow.

"Please Chris.” You whimper when he pulls his cock out for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “Mm! Please let me cum. Please, please.” He looks down at you with bedroom eyes and trails a hand down the length of your body.

“Nah, don't wanna. Ceebs baby. Think I'll just leave you like this.” His smile spreads ear to ear when you widen your eyes and he starts laughing, throwing his head back. “I'm just kidding, beautiful but you should've seen your face.”

He comes plowing into your cunt with so much force that the headboard bumps the wall and you're screaming out his name. Chris smirks with each long quick stroke inside of you, getting just what he wanted. For you to lose control and let go. He needs to hear his name being spilled out from your soft lips that he can't stop kissing as if you were his girl. The way your body shivers when he grinds his pelvis hard over your clit makes him fuck you even harder with possessive primal moaning growls.

“Call me baby.” He demands out of nowhere gasping and kneading your breast in his hands as he looks down at you.

Without thinking you do it. It's impossible to not get swept up in the heat of the moment, to do any thinking of your own right now. So you call him baby. Over and over you say the name and watch as it has a physical reaction to him. Like a button that's been pressed Chris puts his all into fucking you.

“That's it baby girl. Sounds like heaven from your lips. Fuck, ah! Gonna cum y/n. Cum with me yeah? You're gonna cum with me. Yeah, yeah like that.” He sucks in air between his teeth slowly before gritting them. His jaw muscle flexes and you feel his cum spraying inside of you just as your own orgasm bursts through you.

It felt so good to Chris. To have you in his home, in his bed. It felt… right. Felt even better having all of you to himself. He only kept edging you simply because he didn't want the night to end so early. He knew you'd leave his side soon. When he finally drove you back to your car it was like torture to him. He couldn't pull away from you and ended up fucking you in the back seat of his car.

By the time you get home, poor Jisung doesn't know what hit him. You're on him as soon as you walk in the door. Sex drive still high, cunt still needy and the guilt of calling another man baby simmering inside you. Although Jisung doesn't complain, he feels this sudden odd feeling begin to gnaw at him. He's never felt this type of emotion. It's strange and foreign to him it's starting to piss him off but he bites the feeling down, pulling you closer to him suddenly afraid of letting you go.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The difference between Jisung and Chris is like being struck by lightning from both sides. No bolt is the same but you'll still burn from the inside out. With Jisung his moans when he fully lets himself go are whiny, desperate, needy just like your own and the random grunts and growls here and there when his orgasm builds always echo in your mind pushing you to reach your own peak. It's like diving off a cliff into the ocean, it swallows you up. Chris, he talks a lot more, praises you through gritted teeth with a low feral growl at the end of almost every sentence. He's the epitome of alpha male commanding your body to experience an earth shattering mind altering orgasm with a single word.

And night after night Chris commands your body. You return home to Jisung after spending a few long hours with Chris after work and you never get back home in one piece. Not without some new mark on you. Whether it's from his mouth or the pretty white ribbons he ties your wrists and ankles with, there's something. Ji always covers them up with his own markings with a growl and claim to you. “Mine. Naekkeo.” Jisung will moan, filling you up as many times as he can.

Tonight will be no different when you go home. You're currently tied up in Chris's bed with his tongue buried in your cunt as you cum with so much force you pull hard on your restraints not caring that they dig into your skin. You hear Chris laughing, feeling his breath breeze against you all while your legs are shaking on his shoulders.

“That's my girl. You're so delicious y/n. Shall I have another go? I'm still hungry.” He says, with amusement in his voice, raising his head and licking his lips.

“Chris please. I can't… that was the fifth orgasm you've given me with just your mouth. I'm too sensitive and far too out of breath. Let's call it a night please?” You beg in-between your panting breaths.

“Only because you said please and you look so cute like that. Why don't you stay the night babe hm?” Chris smiles down at you, freeing your hands from his headboard.

“I can't, I mean… remember I told you I don't feel comfortable.” You stutter rubbing your wrist looking down at the bright red line that goes all the way around.

“Right. My bad angel, no worries. I'm sure I'll wake up to your beautiful face soon.” He winks smiling like he's got some juicy secret that only he knows about. “Need a ride?”

Shaking your head you look up at him, “It's okay I drove.” You reply smiling sweetly and once you're dressed and not walking like a newborn fawn, he kisses you on the head and walks you out of large home.

When you get home you barely have it in you to take a shower. Every step you took, you could still feel Chris's mouth. His hot tongue, his beautiful lips sucking your clit. You're still too sensitive and it's a beautiful torture. As soon as you're out of the shower you fall into the bed with Jisung right behind you sliding up to you cock out and hard but you're too tired. You feel bad about leaving him to take care of himself.

“I'm sorry baby he spent two hours eating me out and I'm so tired.” You tell Jisung groggily and he pouts, taking your hands in his, kissing your wrists.

“That fucker.” He mutters under his breath angrily. He's upset but not with you. “It's okay though sweetie, you sleep.” He rubs his nose over yours and kisses your lips making you smile.

“I love you Sungie.” You mumble before drifting off to sleep peacefully.

Waking up is anything but peaceful though. Jisung is pissed and shuffling around the house pouting with his brows furrowed and a dark aura around him like some anime villain.

“Baby?” You say and there's silence. “Ji?” Still nothing. “My Han and only?” That does it and he cracks a smile while shoving instant ramen in his mouth, pointing his chopsticks to the plate of breakfast he made you. “What's the matter Hannie?”

He chews still pouting and you can't help but smile at him. His cheeks puff out when he gets like this but you know after breakfast he'll fuck you in the kitchen and he'll be okay.

“That fucker Bang.” He grumbles.

“I'm sorry about last night, baby.” You say taking a bite of watermelon.

“He's been keeping you later every time for the past two weeks and when you get home you're so sore that I wonder if I'm hurting you or we can't do anything at all. I haven't fucked you in two days. Don't go today, baby. Stay with me.” He confesses and you get up to sit on his knee.

“Of course I'll stay baby. You know if you don't want me to go that's all you have to say. I'll text Chris later and let him know.” Jisung nods and nuzzles your chest with his cheek like a cat.

“Sweetie… you don't like fucking him better than me do you?” Jisung asks, suddenly making your heart crack.

“Of course not baby. Why would you even think that?”

“I… uh. You were talking in your sleep last night and moaned his name.” He says.

Oh so that's why he's so mad… Now you're the one pouting.

“Never baby. I'm sorry for my brain. You know it has a mind of its own.” You say and he laughs hugging you tight. “You're going to make me do more than moan your name aren't you Sungie?”

“Mmm lovely you know I am.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Breakfast long forgotten Jisung has you bent over the table staring into your reflection of the closet door across from you. Its surface is a mirror from ceiling to floor and you can see the pure desire on his face from behind you.

“Fuck.” He whispers, rubbing your ass in a circle after smacking hard and chuckles when you give it a shake. “I want you to watch me fuck you.” He tells you low and tender.

He slides his cock into you with a groan, throwing his head back before looking at your reflection. He loves seeing your cheeks turn pink from pleasure, loves how your lips poke out making him wish there was two of him so you can wrap your lips around his cock while he fucks you like this. He starts moving and you grip the side of the table hard with a gasp. You're sore still but you both love it when your swollen like this. You have a feeling this'll be a quickie but your boyfriend will worship and cherish your body all day long, making up for the two days he didn't have you.

“Gotta fuck his cum outta my sweet lovely baby.” Jisung says picking up speed. He groans along with you when you push back into him meeting his thrust.

“Jisung!” You gasp and he chuckles behind you.

“See how you look baby? You see why I can't ever get enough of you huh? I really needed this. Needed you, y/n baby” Jisung slaps your ass and then rubs his hand over the redness.

He repeats the move again each time he rams his cock into you. Over again until you're falling flat onto the table and letting out a long groaning moan and cumming around him.

“Yes.” He whispers, extending the word before he loses his ability to say anything more.

He's fucking you just as hard as Chris does all while moaning uncontrollably, breathing heavily and digging his fingers into ass as he grips it tight. God you love the sounds he makes. He's always been the noisiest man you've ever slept with, never shying away or holding back and you found that to be the sexiest thing ever. What started as a one night stand between you and Jisung years ago became what you have today. Four amazing years.

“Oh? My baby's gonna cum again. Hm? Hm baby? Oh God. Fuck y/n. Yeah rub your clit just like that. Gonna fill you now baby.” Jisung grunts, pulling you back into him as he thrusts forward three final times, feeling you reach another climax before throwing his head back, freezing and spilling his cum inside you.

That's how your day goes with Jisung. Spoiling you not just with sex but love. Deep inside you know it's because he feels like he has to do better than Chris, be better than your CEO boss but he doesn't need to do any of that. Can't tell him that though. Once he sets his mind to something, he sees through it till the end.

With Jisung on the phone with his client Seungmin, going over the song he wrote for him, you decide to message Chris and let him know you won't be able to come over tonight before doing some light chores. Ding! Your phone notification goes off from the coffee table while you wash dishes in the kitchen.

“Ji baby, could you check that for me please? It's probably Chris. I let him know I wouldn't be coming tonight.” You call over your shoulder. It's nothing new, you two always check each other's phone whenever the other has their hands full. However this is the first time a message has actually angered someone in the relationship.

Jisung scoffs staring down at your phone, feeling the rage and jealousy build up inside of him. He's seeing red at the short text message in front of him. The room is quiet and you're unaware of all the sudden anger that's seeping out of Jisung but inside of him is so loud.

“No worries, my baby. If you need me you know who to call.” He spits out in a mocking tone making you turn around in shock.

You've never heard him like this. You watch Jisung pace the floor grabbing his hair in his hands and you quickly go to him. Placing a damp hand on his shoulder carefully, he looks at you and you finally see it. Past the anger in his eyes there's uncertainty. He really is worried about losing you. Worried that your boss is trying to take you away from him and it's been eating him up inside silently but for how long? Why couldn't you see it before? Why didn't he just tell you that was how he was feeling? Communication, that's what you two always lived by.

“Sungie baby…” You whisper.

“Who does he think he is huh? Your boyfriend? No. I am. You're not his. You're mine.” He kisses you roughly before you can speak.

You moan against his mouth when he slips his hand over and under the band of your leggings and finds that you're not wearing any panties like you normally do at home. He growls and bites your bottom lip before plunging two fingers inside.

“This pussy is mine, it won't ever belong to another. Isn't that right sweetie?” He asks, breathing heavily like he's just ran a marathon.

“Yes baby, all yours. Only yours.” You breathe, legs shaking as he fingers you and kisses you hard again.

That night Jisung fucked you harder than ever. It was like he was a possessed man, it wasn't him but you'd never admit that you loved it.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Though he was still feeling a little jealous, Jisung still encouraged you to go to Chris's but this time he'd go with you and wait in the car. That's why you're tied up and blindfolded in Chris's room on your knees in front of him. You can hear his feet shuffling around but you just assume he's cleaning up after he filled your throat with every inch of him, fucking your throat until he came. He's been pretty easy on you tonight. You're not sore and the ribbons don't pinch so much.

“So babe, did you miss me?” He asks, coming to stand in front of you.

“I did.” You answer honestly.

“Yeah baby?” He purrs and you feel him get down to your level. “Did your boyfriend fuck you good the other night?”

Your mouth pops open comedically and Chris laughs kissing you on your head. A thousand thoughts flood your mind, jumbled and frantic.

“Yeah, I know about Jisung beautiful. When I ran a background check on ya he popped up. I've known ever since that day after we met. He's a great songwriter at the company. Pops was right to hire him.” He confesses and you're too stunned to speak but he's not quite done.

“What surprised me though was that the so-called creep following you that day was your boyfriend. It's a fun game you two play, so I'll go along with it for however long you want.” He stands up, lovingly caressing your head. “Because I know that despite you going home to someone else, it's my cock that you're thinking of and lusting for.”

He fucks your mouth again but denys you when you ask if he's going to fuck you now. Instead he unties you and reminds you that your boyfriend is waiting for you in the car. You're fuming when you get into the car. Jisung doesn't quite know how to handle the situation at the moment, not while he's driving. It's not until you're home that he takes care of you once you're both home in bed. Laying in bed post climax, Jisung has the most ridiculous idea that's ever come out of his mouth and he's said some crazy things before.

“How about a friendly competition between men? Chris and I take you together and see who's the better man. You know, just for fun.” He smirks to himself laying on his arm and looking up at the ceiling. “If he can't handle it, then game over Christopher.” He says and laughs at himself before rolling over and burying his face in your tits.

“Uh, yeah... I don't know if he'll be down for that Hannie but if that's what you what I'll relay the message.” You reply and thread your fingers through his hair. "Just remember he's responsible for our paychecks."

You're certain Jisung is just joking or if he isn't he'll change his mind. Right? There's no way he'd go through with that idea but isn't that how this game you two have going on started? One crazy idea from the genius mind of Han Jisung. Could you handle it though? Having both men inside of you? The thought made you nervous and excited and honestly you were kind of hoping that Chris would agree. And to your surprise, he does. Now you're in a coffee shop talking about a threesome. How did your life get to this?

“You're a crazy man Han Jisung.” Chris says, leaning back in his chair. He's looking every bit of the CEO that he is in the small cafe that he agreed to meet you and Jisung at. There's an amused smile on his face as he takes a sip of his freshly pressed juice. “But you're on. Obviously this is just for shits and giggles. In the end whatever y/n wants goes.” He continues and smiles at you flashing his dimples.

“Of course what my baby wants goes. Anything to make my girlfriend happy.” Jisung responds, placing his arm over your shoulders possessively pulling you closer to him.

You sit in silence looking between both men amused and intrigued. The conversation shifts into one of more intimate topics: You. Specifically your body and who would be where inside of you. Your whole face and chest flush pink at how casual they talk. They actually seem to be getting along well when they comment on what you like and don't like. Both men know your body so well. Probably even better than you know yourself.

“So it's settled then. My place the day after tomorrow? Let's say… around 8.” Chris says looking pleased with himself. “I don't plan on losing so it may be a long night. I figure 8 will give you time to rest before princess.” He looks at you and winks before getting up from his seat to leave. “See you two then.”

When Chris is gone you turn to Jisung, doubt in your chest. You need to make sure he really wants this. This will get messy quickly if more jealousy seeps it's way back into the mix. You don't want to lose Jisung so you double and triple check with him on if this is really what he wants to do.

“Are you sure you wanna do this baby?” You question taking in your boyfriend's features as the sun from the large storefront window makes him glow radiantly. The brown in his eyes pop, looking like the cup of coffee in your hands.

“Lovely, I could ask you the same. Please don't do this if you don't want to. I know you love me naekkeo.” He brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “Don't feel like you have to do this for either me or Chris, okay?”

You smile and nod feeling your heart bloom in your chest. You hit the jackpot with Jisung. Have you gotten wealthier with Chris too?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The room is silent and a gentle breeze from Chris's open window stirs your hair around your shoulders. You didn't think you'd feel so nervous but you're shaking with anticipation as you're kneeling on Chris's large bed naked for both him and Jisung. Biting your lip, you sit up on your knees straddling Chris and wait as Jisung comes up behind you. Taking your hips he lubes your ass and his cock up, making things slippery so it's easier for him to enter you. Slowly he guides himself into you from behind all while kissing his way down the side of your neck, pausing to bite down gently on your shoulder. You're moaning and crying with pleasure once your boyfriend is fully inside of you. All the while Chris lays underneath you. Watching you and stroking his cock, caressing your left thigh with his fingers.

“You ready baby?” Jisung whispers behind you in your ear.

Your body reacts, shuddering around him and his groans are felt against your chest. You feel his cock pulsating inside of you and you feel desperate for movement. Nodding your head Jisung guides you down onto Chris who lines himself up with your entrance nice and slow. Excruciatingly slow. Just the tip of Chris's cock is inside of you and you're whining at the pinch and stretching sensation. Brief doubt that you can take them both bubbles up in your mind but you push it aside and keep pushing down taking the length of him in carefully.

When Chris pushes up helping you take the last remaining inches, your back arches and you cry out. Not from pain although you can feel that sting of being fully stretched but from pleasure once both men are fully sheathed inside of you. It's a strange blissful feeling, their cocks pressed tightly together with only the thin wall of your flesh between them. With Jisung taking your breasts in his hands, Chris sits up and guides the movements like the leader he is. It's just a natural thing and the three of you seem to fall into that unconsciously. Thrusting and moving your hips along with his guiding hands until a synchronized rhythm starts. It's slow at first, far too slow for you and it becomes hard for you to relax your muscles around each man.

“Fuck me.” You grind out, sweating and already breathless.

There's a shared moan between Jisung and Chris that vibrates through you and echoes in the quiet room. You don't give them a chance to respond, you're moving for them, taking over the pace. Fuck does it amazing, that fullness. Your orgasm is quick and you're groaning and writhing with pleasure cumming hard.

Your head falls back, landing on Jisung's shoulder while he still keeps his push and pull in and out of your ass all while you cum around Chris's cock. His thrusts force your body to continuously rock against him, heightening the sensation and pleasure all together. Chris grunts and fights back to urge to cum with you, determined not to lose against Jisung. Both men, stubborn as hell would gladly fuck you all night long trying to last longer than the other but you're not sure how much longer you can keep up. Your legs would've given out long ago if you weren't held up by Jisung's arms as he cradles you, pumping his cock into you.

“Fuck, I can feel everything baby. God keep cumming. More baby.” Jisung groans in your ear, coaxing you.

Your whimpers make both Chris and Jisung feel absolutely insane. Chris in particular is struggling watching your face. How your features contort beautifully with each synchronized thrust, it's like seeing the stars for the first time to him. He feels his balls tighten and he knows that he'll lose as soon as you cum around him again. You're already babbling incoherently but it becomes even more crazed and hard to understand when Chris places a firm thumb over your clit. Your whole body tenses up and both men curse and grunt in harmony and it's such a beautiful sound.

“Mm y/n. Shit, shit that's a good girl. You're close baby girl. That's right cum on my cock again.” Chris whispers and bucks his hips up off the bed causing both his and Jisung's cock to ram up harshly inside you.

“Ah, fuck!” You cry loudly holding onto Jisung's arms and clawing at him. Legs shaking, eyes rolling in the back of your head and with a strange tortured groan your second orgasm erupts from within you.

It's too much for them, you feel so much tighter than before and their own orgasm happens with no warning. Both your cunt and ass are being filled at the same time and the feeling is phenomenal.

“Ah! fuck naekkeo… F-fuck me!” Jisung groans and the sound shortly turns into a long winded whine.

“Oh shit y/n fuck. So beautiful, so fuuucking beautiful.” Chris breathes and growls, thrusting upwards more. “Yeah that's- mm! That's it baby.”

Fuck a bet you need to experience this everyday. Is this what addiction feels like? They're still inside of you, cocks softening while slowly dribbling the last drops of cum into your sore and stretched holes but you want them to fill you up even more. As completely fucked out of your mind you are, you still don't want to move from where you are. Two pairs of hands caress your body, relaxing you after the intense full body orgasm you just had. You feel so loved and taken care of. It's an overwhelming feeling and a tear falls from your eye and down the side of your face onto Jisung's shoulders.

“Sweetie? What's wrong, does it hurt? Here I'll pull out first slowly.” Jisung says worried voice tender and full of concern.

Once he's out and moving to stand beside the bed he picks you up, pulling you off of Chris's lap and gently lays you down beside the man who's looking at you wide eyed and terrified that he might've hurt you.

“Y/n babe, where does it hurt? Tell us beautiful. Please?” Chris pleads when you start fully crying.

Shaking your head and covering your face you take a deep breath trying to calm down. “I'm sorry boys, I'm okay. I'm not hurt, I'm just… fuck. That was just amazing. I felt so overwhelmed and I don't want this,” you wave your arms around gesturing to the three of you. “To end because the bet is over. I also feel like shit for wanting that but…” you trail off looking up at the ceiling laying on top of black silk sheets.

The room is silent and when you close your eyes you feel Jisung slide into bed on your other side. For a minute, the three of you just lay there listening to the cars drive past outside through the open window. You don't open your eyes until you hear laughter on either side of you.

“What's so funny?!” You say turning your head back and forth to look at Chris and Jisung.

“Oh my gosh she's so cute. You're a lucky man Jisung.” Chris says, wiping fake tears from his eyes.

“Thanks bro. That she is.” Your boyfriend says and you sit up suddenly wincing at the soreness.

“Okay not that I'm complaining but where the hell did this sudden bromance come from?” You question, which only makes them laugh even more. Crossing your arms you pout and wait for their laughing to subside.

“My baby, my angel, my lovely... We're two men who only want to make you happy and cherish you from head to toe,” Jisung kisses your shoulder when he sits up. “How could all that not have been a bonding moment between all of us? I'm down to do whatever makes my baby happy.

“Yeah, no worries gorgeous. I mean granted we… ya know, work out a better routine or something, this arrangement can work out I think.” Chris agrees and takes your hand in his playing with your fingers.

You're touched that they care so much about you to even agree with what you want let alone agree so quickly. Could this three person situation actually work though? Or have you just made things a whole lot messier for yourself?

••••••••••••••••One Month Later•••••••••••••••

“Babe! Could you tell Ji his client wants to run a few ideas for the song when you get back to CBO please? I've got to go to a meeting in a bit.” You hear Chris call out to you from the shower.

Walking into the steamy room you see his body fully submerged under the spray of the water. You try to scare him but he's fully aware of your presence outside of the glass and he opens one eye in your direction smiling at you.

“Can you also tell him that I can't keep wiping the cameras so you two can fuck in the stairwells. Poor security guard had a front row show last week. I'm still jealous.”

Giggling you lean towards him past the open glass for a kiss that he returns with a groan. “Fuck y/n you know what your laugh and those lips do to me. Keep it up and we won't get any work done and Jisung will be pouty all day.”

“My bad babe, you just look so good wet.” You giggle again and now he's pulling you into the shower with him fully clothed.

You squeal when the warm water soaks the flowy white summer skater dress you had just put on and Chris's mouth is on your neck lapping up the water and nibbling your flesh. His hands are quick lifting the dress up and over your head letting it fall to the tiles in a loud splat just outside the door. His cock is inside of you before your hair is even fully saturated with water. The loud wet sounds and your moans echo throughout the bathroom as Chris holds one of your legs up and fucks you up against the shower wall. Your hands slip and slide over his bare back feeling every muscle shift with his movements.

You let out a loud moan when you hear the door creak open to a heavy lidded Jisung in a black blazer, white tee and jeans, standing there looking into your eyes and watching his girlfriend get fucked by another man. He slowly grins and saunters into the room, eyes still on you until he reaches the counter. There, he continues to watch you, watch Chris's cock quickly slip in and out of your cunt. His grin grows when you struggle to keep your eyes on him and the flush to your cheeks deepen. When you reach your hand out to him he shakes his head and chuckles deep.

“Take his dick like a good girl, lovely. I'm a patient man. I'll fuck you after until your body is dry and your pussy is dripping on my cock.” Jisung says and you feel Chris laugh while he sucks down hard on your breast.

Jisung rubs his hard cock over his pants and your cunt locks down around Chris's length making you both breathe out a soft moan.

“Fuck Sungie.” You whine with a pout, reaching out to him again but he won't be swayed that easy. He's used to waiting his turn while watching you.

“No, no naekkeo I'm not here remember.” He says sitting up on the counter next to the sink, getting comfortable.

Chris begins to thrust into you harder, taking your other leg and wrapping it around his hips. “Mmm, you heard the man baby. Take my cock so he can fuck my cum out of you when I'm gone.”

Chris's words make you shiver all over and you lean your head back onto the wall behind you giving in to the sensations Chris's cock and Jisung's eyes give you. Some days they take turns, some days they share you together but in the end both men would have worshiped your body inside and out. It's been a month now having this strange relationship with your two boyfriends and your heart isn't the only thing that feels full everyday. Sometimes messy isn't always a bad thing.

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