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cleo-fox · 8 months

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Close Quarters

Part 1 of 2

Summary: “You don’t have to like it,” says Fury, “you just have to do your job.”

Your job, as it turns out, is to go undercover at a luxury resort.

The only problem? Your fake husband is Loki Laufeyson—the infuriatingly handsome Norse god turned Avenger who delights in making you flustered. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ (Minors DNI), dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, elevator sex, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, a hint of dom/sub, Dom Loki.

A/N: there will be a part 2. Also have a handful of related one shot ideas, so if people like this, I may post those. This is also posted on AO3.

Your self-sufficiency has always been a point of pride for you, both personally and professionally. The highlight of your career was overhearing Nick Fury say that he didn’t need to send in a team of people for a mission so long as he had you on the payroll. You are calm, competent, and ruthlessly efficient; you are used to relying only on yourself.

So it comes as something of a surprise when Fury informs you that Loki Laufeyson will not only be accompanying you on this undercover mission, but will also be taking the lead.

It takes a lot to render you speechless these days, but this does it. You gape at Fury for a moment before you’re able to speak.

“You never send me in with anyone,” you say.

“This mission requires a unique skillset.”

You scoff. “He can’t do anything that I can’t.”

Fury raises an eyebrow and folds his arms across his chest. “Really? How’s your conversational Sokovian?”

There’s, of course, no argument to be made with this. Your lips press into a thin, hard line. “I still don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it,” says Fury, “you just have to do your job.”

Your job, as it turns out, is to play the part of Nina Pine.

Nina Pine is bubbly and vivacious, the sort of person you’d see in the society pages. She wears designer clothes and owns jewelry that is so ostentatious and expensive that it looks like it must be fake. She is not particularly bright or talented; she is the product of good luck and generational wealth.

Three weeks ago, Nina married Jonathan Pine, who she met six months ago at the home of a mutual friend. Jonathan does something in finance that sounds like it’s just a tarted up version of gambling, but with more complicated rules and less oversight. It is Jonathan’s higher tolerance for risk (and healthy trust fund assets) that has him considering an investment in KorolCo, a company owned by Ivan Litvinchuk. Litvinchuk uses KorolCo as a front to launder money from illegal arms deals.

Loki would be going undercover as Jonathan. Your new husband.

You are not particularly happy about this little detail (a detail that Fury mysteriously failed to mention when you met with him), in no small part because Loki has already started leveraging it to annoy the shit out of you.

“How are you already this annoying when we’re still in prep?” you say after a particularly exasperating meeting.

“I’m simply overcome by my love for you,” says Loki with a cloying faux sincerity that makes you yearn for the sweet release of death.

Fury, you note, is suspiciously unavailable during all of this. After ignoring three of your (admittedly lengthy) emails on the subject, he sends you a frustratingly short reply:

Do your job, Agent.

Maybe you’ll take up meditation.

If there’s a bright side to what appears to be a massive clusterfuck in the making, it’s that you’ll at least get a free vacation of sorts

The mission will be taking place at The Indigo, an absurdly expensive and exclusive hotel on a private beach not far from La Jolla Cove. The Indigo is the sort of place that you’d only read about—the kind of hyper exclusive resort that is only ever mentioned in damning Pro Publica reports about the questionable actions of high ranking public officials. Rooms start at fifty thousand a night and you are staying in one of the suites, which likely costs more. Your room information was included in your briefing materials and it all sounds too good to be true: a soaking tub and waterfall shower. Private terrace with an infinity pool. Private bar. In-suite chef and spa services by appointment. Ocean view.

One Norse god who delights in irritating you (non-negotiable).

You suppose you’ll try and make the best of it.

The first problem is your sleeping arrangements: there’s only one bed. Granted, it’s a big bed, but still—it suggests a level of intimacy that you had not thought about and are not at all prepared for.

“Well, Agent, this isn’t how I envisioned taking you to my bed, but I suppose it’ll have to do,” says Loki on your first evening there.

You chuck a pillow at him, which he easily dodges.

“Keep it up and you can magic yourself a pillow and sleeping bag and sleep in the hall,” you say.

“Even if that were an appropriate accommodation for someone of my rank and title, I rather think it would do some damage to our cover.”

He has a point and you don’t like it. You decide to ignore him and start getting ready for bed.

The pajamas that had been packed for you are a little fancier than what you’re used to—satin and lace instead of cotton tees and shorts. Normally, you’d relish the opportunity to feel a little fancy—it’s an unexpected indulgence, a splurge on the company dime.

But with Loki now thrown into the equation, you are suddenly hyper aware of the fact that the fabric will likely cling to your curves, that the hem of the skirt is just a little too high. You choose the most demure one of the lot—a pale rose colored thing hemmed with lace—and head to the bathroom to change.

Even with the matching robe, you still feel a little awkward and oddly nervous. You avoid looking at Loki—if his gaze is lingering on your legs or your hips, you don’t want to know about it right before you hop into bed with him—and go about your normal routine. You manage to have a relatively normal conversation about your plan for tomorrow and you read a couple chapters of your book before you start to drift off.

It’s a king sized bed with plenty of room, but somehow you wake up perched near the edge of the bed with Loki pressed up against your back.

He’s got one arm wrapped around your waist so that you’re pinned against him and the deep, even breaths brushing against the back of your neck tell you he’s still asleep. You’re pretty sure this must have been unintentional on his part: Loki doesn’t seem like the sort to willingly allow himself to be seen seeking out human contact. It’s too vulnerable, too soft for the sharp and sarcastic veneer he presents to the world.

He shifts slightly in his sleep, his grip on you tightening. Something hard pokes against the curve of your ass.

You can’t help the responding ache between your legs. You should feel embarrassed—and you do, just a little—but there’s a competing feeling of warm curiosity that makes you press your thighs together. It’s been a while and you miss being held like this. The silk of your nightgown is cool and slippery against your skin, and you feel oddly restless and alert despite the early hour.

You should put a stop to this—that is the professional and sensible thing to do. So you carefully lift his arm from your waist and gently extricate yourself from his embrace. You pad to the bathroom, leaving the light off to spare your eyes.

In the bathroom, you run the tap as cold as it will go. You cup your hands and drink before splashing some water on your face in an effort to quell the restless heat building between your thighs.

It doesn’t really work. You’re not entirely surprised—if you were by yourself, you would simply take care of it, but that’s obviously not an option now. Out of curiosity, you slip your fingers between your thighs to assess the state of things and you immediately regret it: you’re soaked and just the feeling of your index finger glancing against your clit is enough to undo the admittedly minimal effect of the cold water.

You splash your face again and shut off the tap, taking a few deep breaths and smoothing your hands against your hair.

You exit the bathroom and slide back into bed. Loki reaches for you in his sleep and you are only half surprised when you let him wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him. The throbbing ache between your thighs intensifies and before you can think about it, your back is arching and your breath is hitching.

He pulls you closer and suddenly his breath is warm on your ear. “You know, if you wanted me, all you had to do was ask,” he says, his voice deep and smooth, only a little husky with sleep.

“This is a bad idea,” you say, even as your back arches again and you press yourself against him.

Lips press against where your neck and shoulder meet. “But you want it.” His fingers toy with the hem of your nightgown. “Yes?” he asks, his voice husky against your ear.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Agent.”

“Yes. Please.”

“Agent.”

Your eyes flutter open. Loki is standing at the foot of the bed, hair wet, and wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“It’s eight o’clock,” he says. “You need to shower and dress if we’re to make it to breakfast on time.”

It takes you a moment to process this information. Partly because he just woke you up from a sex dream about him and partly because wearing only a towel should be fucking illegal when you look like that. You try to keep your eyes trained on his and not let them drift to his flat stomach where you can see a faint smattering of chest hair that gathers in a line that trails directly to his cock. And definitely not to any of the muscles that are on tantalizing display and dotted by drops of water that are begging to be licked away. Nope. Not looking at any of that. Just at his devastatingly handsome face.

Fuck.

“Agent?”

You shake your head. “Sorry. Bit groggy this morning. Finish up what you were doing and I’ll go jump in the shower.”

He gives you a bit of an odd look, but mercifully walks away without further comment.

This gives you an opportunity to stare at his broad back as he walks away. Goddammit, even his ass looks good in that towel.

Fuck.

You have a feeling this is going to be a long week.

It’s only day one and it’s becoming clear to you that you are not really prepared for some of the practicalities of being Loki’s wife.

Specifically: being the primary focus of his flirtations and little gestures of affection. His hand on the small of your back, his fingers lacing with yours, the brush of his lips against the back of your hand or the shell of your ear—it’s all a little overwhelming in a way you don’t expect. It was one thing when he was razzing you in your prep meetings—he was quite clearly doing it to be irritating. But at The Indigo, he has to appear sincere for your cover and that particular detail makes it a different beast entirely.

The fact that both his regular appearance and the blond-haired, blue-eyed glamor he’s adopted for the mission are both devastatingly handsome certainly doesn’t help. Nor does the additional baggage of your sex dream this morning.

Unfortunately for you, Loki quickly ascertains that he now has a great and novel way to fluster you. Equally unfortunate is the fact that he seems to find this as hilarious as he did back in prep meetings, which prompts him to be only more outlandish.

“Are you trying to sabotage this?” It’s later that afternoon and you’ve gone down to the pool with the plan of schmoozing with Litvinchuk and his associates. Loki has clearly decided that this needs to be more difficult than it is and has fully committed to the bit, as they say.

(You’ve also gotten very good at whispering threats under your breath and making it look like you’re flirting; the timing of this is not a coincidence).

“I don’t know why you’re so distraught about sunscreen,” says Loki, rubbing a generous amount between his palms.

“It’s not the sunscreen, it’s that you’re going to find some way to be inappropriate about it.”

“I’d never.”

“You are so full of shit.”

“You wound me.” He places his hands on your shoulders and begins rubbing in the sunscreen, going much slower than you think is strictly necessary. “Perhaps this trip is merely bringing out our natural chemistry.”

“You wish.”

“Is it the hair that does it for you, Mrs. Pine? Do you have a particular fondness for blonds?”

“Do you have a fondness for being murdered in broad daylight? Because that’s the fate you’re headed towards, buster.”

He tuts at you as his hands slide to the small of your back. “Temper, temper. You really need to work on that.”

“Have you considered working on not annoying the ever-loving shit out of me?”

His breath is suddenly warm against your ear. “Now where’s the fun in that? And before you answer, be advised that Tarasevich is looking right at us.”

Fuck. Tarasevich is the most suspicious and paranoid of the lot—years in the Sokovian mafia paired with recreational drug use will do that to a guy. You turn so that you’re facing Loki. He looks at you fondly, looking for all the world like a loved up newlywed just smitten with his new wife.

“One of these days, I’m going to drop kick you into the motherfucking sun,” you say in the sweetest voice that you can muster.

“Now, now, Mrs. Pine, let’s keep the foreplay in the bedroom.” He rests his forehead against yours, reaching up to stroke your cheek. “There’s such a thing as public indecency laws, you know.”

You sigh heavily. “Why are you like this?”

“Oh, because it’s so much fun.”

“Is he still looking?”

“Yes and I’m going to kiss you to put him off, so do try to contain yourself.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage.”

You catch a flicker of a smile before he leans in and brushes his lips against yours. You intend for this to be brief, but his mouth is so warm and inviting and before you know it, he’s gently coaxing your lips open and leading your tongue in a slow and seductive caress that has your mind drifting straight to the gutter.

His hand slides to your thigh and you can’t bring yourself to be mad about it.

“Ah, Pine. Mixing business and pleasure, I see.”

You pull back from Loki to find Ivan Litvinchuk standing in front of you, wearing the smug, congratulatory smirk that you often see men like him trading with one another when they think they’re getting somewhere with a woman.

“Normally I try not to, but I’ve found it rather impossible these last three weeks, haven’t I, darling?” Loki takes the opportunity to loop his arms around your waist and pull you into his lap, nuzzling your neck.

You give a good natured laugh. “You’re insatiable.”

“Oh, I don’t think anyone would fault me when I have such a tempting little wife.”

This, paired with the squeeze of his hand on your thigh, sends an unexpected rush of heat to your cunt. Fortunately, the effects of this are quickly tempered when you notice that Litvinchuk is eyeing you rather appreciatively. The wardrobe team has really outdone themselves with your clothes, but the swimsuits they’ve sent are definitely more revealing than you are used to—today’s choice is a bikini with a split sweetheart neckline that dips a lot lower than you’d like and a fucking underwire in the top. Underwire! The bottom is no better—it’s both low rise and high cut, the perfect way to ensure that half of your ass is exposed at any given time. Even in the matching translucent cover up—which of course you’ve left on the chair that Litvinchuk is standing in front of—you feel a little more bare than you’d like, a fact that Litvinchuk seems to be appreciating, if the path of his gaze is any indication.

“You’re a lucky man, Mr. Pine,” he says, his eyes flicking briefly to your cleavage.

You expertly tamp down your disgust and smile at Litvinchuk before turning around to bat your eyes at Loki.

“You are, aren’t you?” you say, twining your arms around his neck and planting a brief, chaste kiss on his lips.

He gives you a dazzling smile that’s so sincere it makes your stomach flip. “Very much so.”

Another squeeze of your thigh, more heat to your cunt. Fuck.

“Well, Pine, when you are ready to discuss more business—” Here he switches to Sokovian.

This is the part you dislike the most about this particular mission: whenever anything of substance comes up, Litvinchuk and his cronies immediately switch to Sokovian, leaving you in the dark.

To add insult to injury, Litvinchuk still seems infatuated by your cleavage.

Litvinchuk says goodbye a few minutes later and you manage to bite your tongue until he’s out of earshot.

“I really don’t love the fact that he spent half of that conversation sneaking looks at my boobs,” you say quietly.

“Well, to be fair, they do look spectacular,” says Loki. “I’ll have to send a thank you note to the wardrobe team for that.”

Heat stirs hopefully and unhelpfully in your hips at that comment.

“This is what I meant by being inappropriate, you know. Did he have anything interesting to say?”

“He’s invited me to a game of cards this afternoon.”

“Do you need me for that? I could go try and talk to the wives, see what I can find out.”

“Originally, I’d thought no, but since dear Ivan seems so enamored of your assets, it might not be a bad idea to have you come along.”

You sigh. “How am I now at the point in my life where letting an illegal arms dealer stare at my tits is a fucking mission objective?”

Loki laughs quietly. “We’ll keep that out of the final report.”

The card game ends up being a lot worse than you thought it would be. And not because of Litvinchuk’s wandering eyes.

They’ve set up the game on the pool deck tables and chairs. As best as you can tell, it’s a Sokovian twist on a combination of rummy and poker. You’re not the only woman at the table: a few of the other men have their girlfriends or mistresses draped over them like strange human scarves, though their roles seem to be largely decorative.

Loki makes a big show of pulling you into his lap, saying how he just can’t bear to be apart from his new wife for terribly long.

“Ah, young love,” says Mikhnevich. “I remember when my Irina and I were like this.”

“Now she begs for him to leave the house!” says Litvinchuk. There’s a hearty round of laughter—it’s not a particularly funny joke, but you suppose that’s one of the benefits of moving up in the world of crime: people will laugh at your jokes because they’re afraid you’ll kidnap their families or something. It’s all very dysfunctional.

Loki makes an effort to teach you the game, but Nina is not the sort who pays very close attention to that kind of thing, so you find yourself giggling and letting him steal kisses or whisper in your ear as he explains some strategy or another.

There are several problems with this arrangement. The first is that you are positioned on his lap in such a way that you can feel his cock nudging your ass or your thigh, depending on how he’s sitting. And it’s close enough proximity for you to ascertain that he is long, thick, and semi-erect.

The second problem is his thigh; specifically, how it presses against your cunt, how every time Loki leans forward to draw a card, he inadvertently rocks you against the firm muscle. Each time, it feels better than the last; each time, you clench and ache and talk yourself out of riding his thigh until you have a screaming orgasm right on the pool deck. Each time, the idea becomes more and more tempting.

The third problem is his hands. Specifically, where and how they are wandering. He plays it off like it’s unintentional, like he’s just absently fidgeting with the part of your suit that lays against your hip or idly drawing lazy circles on your thigh. You can’t help but think that it must be calculated. He’s spent the last twenty-four hours intentionally trying to drive you crazy–there’s no way that he would pass up an opportunity to play his little games without you scolding him or rolling your eyes.

The fourth problem is that the first three problems are turning you on a lot.

Your clit seems to swell with every pass of his fingertips on your bare skin, no matter how casual. It drags against the slick material of your swimsuit every time you shift on Loki’s muscular thigh. You can feel yourself growing slicker and slicker with every moment. Eventually, it becomes too much and you try to shift in his lap, crossing your legs to give yourself a little relief.

This does exactly nothing useful. Instead, your movement causes his cock to twitch against you, which only escalates your growing arousal. He hooks the elastic of your suit at your hip onto his thumb and pulls, letting it snap back against your skin. His expression is playful when you look up at him, but there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

You are throbbing, your cunt practically weeping with slickness. And you’re pretty sure he knows.

And you’re pretty sure you don’t mind.

You lick your lips.

He hooks his thumb back into your suit at the hip, and this time he leaves it there, his fingers splayed along the curve of your hip. It’s casually possessive and ridiculously hot and the polar opposite of helpful.

He definitely knows.

Your heart is pounding. Can you go into cardiac arrest from being too turned on? You wish you could use Google. At a minimum, some sort of visual equivalent of a cold shower would be helpful. Pictures of Henry Kissinger or something. Budget reports. Taxes. Anything to get your mind off your aching cunt and the mess that you’re making in your swimsuit.

“I think you could do with a bit of a lie down, Mrs. Pine.” Loki's voice is low in your ear. “You seem…warm.”

You would have thought that Loki knowing about your current state of arousal would be cause for humiliation, if not irritation. Instead, it only seems to add fuel to the fire, especially with the way he’s talking to you. You’re not sure how he’s doing this, but it feels like his fucking voice is vibrating in the cradle of your hips, sending a fresh wave of slick arousal to your dripping cunt.

“Yeah,” you say. “Very warm.”

It’s perhaps a testament to your current state of mind that you can only manage this sentence and not some smart remark.

“Would you like my help with that, darling?” he asks. The phrasing is innocent, but the question is loaded. And sincere. You take in a shaky breath. You know all the reasons why this is a bad idea, but you also can’t bring yourself to say no. He may be wildly irritating, but you suspect he’s likely a good fuck…and you really need to be fucked.

You nod. “Yeah…I’d like that.”

“We’ll go up to the room after this game ends,” he says. “And then I’ll take very good care of you.”

It takes everything in you not to whine. Fuck. You didn’t think it was possible to be this wet, this turned on.

Loki shifts slightly, pulling you close against him, his cock now fully erect and pressing hard and thick against your ass.

“Do you feel me?” he asks, his lips grazing your ear. “Do you feel what you’ve done?”

You nod and wiggle your hips slightly, partly to situate yourself and partly because you want a little bit of payback. His grip on your hip tightens.

“I’d advise you not to play games, little wife,” he rasps in your ear.

More heat builds in your hips. You can’t remember the last time you were this turned on. Maybe never. You throw a look at Loki over your shoulder. “It’s not a game,” you say. “I’m just very warm.”

His eyes are dark. “Burning up, I suspect.”

“You have no idea.” You lean back against him, turning so you can nuzzle your face against his neck. God, he smelled good. “Please,” You say it so quietly that only he can hear, “I’m aching.”

He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and you feel his cock throb. He clears his throat. “Gentlemen, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take my leave a little early—Mrs. Pine is feeling quite unwell.”

Fuck yes.

If Litvinchuk and his men suspect there’s anything untoward about your departure, they don’t say so—and you imagine you must look a little unsteady anyway. Loki slides an arm around your waist as you leave.

“Now Mrs. Pine,” he says once you’re out of earshot, “tell me exactly what ails you.”

You let out a shaky sigh. “Are you seriously going to do this?”

“I only want to ensure that we are on the same page,” he says with a smirk.

“Like hell you do. I already told you, you just want to hear—” You cut yourself off, realizing that you’re playing right into his hands.

He smiles like a cat with a bowl full of cream. “What do I want to hear, darling?”

You press your lips together. This is infuriating.

“I’m waiting…”

You blow out a shaky breath. Fuck it. “You just want to hear me say that I’m fucking soaked because you’ve been rubbing me against your thighs and touching me for the last two hours and if I don’t come soon, I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”

He smirks as you approach the hotel lobby. “Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting to hear you say all that.”

“You absolutely were.”

The air conditioned air in the hotel lobby feels extra icy against your sunwarmed skin and your sandals seem to clack particularly loudly against the marble floors.

“You have a smart mouth, do you know that?”

“You like it,” you say as you approach the bank of elevators. “That’s the reason why you pull half of this shit with me.”

“Perhaps.” He gives you a smile that feels a little dangerous and sends even more heat to your aching cunt. “But do you know what my favorite part of your smart mouth is, Mrs. Pine?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

The elevator door opens. It’s empty and your cunt clenches at the possibilities this presents.

“My favorite part about your smart mouth,” says Loki in a low voice as you step into the elevator, “is that it will sound that much sweeter when I make you beg for me.”

The elevator door slides closed and you barely have a chance to react before he’s backing you up against the wall and pressing his thigh between your legs.

“You’re a disobedient, wicked tease, Mrs. Pine,” he growls, sending a thrill through you. “I think you could benefit from a firm hand.”

“You like it,” you breathe, rocking your hips against his thigh, trying to capture some of the same friction that was driving you wild earlier.

“Rutting yourself against my thigh in public like a common slut,” he purrs. “You must be desperate.” He slides a hand between your legs, slipping his fingers under your bathing suit. His expression changes the moment his fingers dip past the fabric—almost like he expected you to be wet, but not this wet.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purrs as you keen. “You’ve made a mess of yourself, haven’t you?”

“I need to come so bad,” you gasp.

“I know you do.” He reaches over and slams the emergency stop button and the elevator shudders to a halt. “And you’re going to. Right now.”

“I can wait until we get to the ro—”

He spins you around and pulls you to him so your back is pressed against his chest.

“No, you can’t.” He curls his big frame over yours, sliding his hand back into your bathing suit and stroking the full length of your sex and making you cry out again. “You need it too badly.” He starts rubbing your clit with his middle and index fingers. “And I don’t think it’s going to take all that long, darling,” he growls, sucking your earlobe into his mouth, “because you’re already so fucking wet.”

There’s a small, distant part of you that resents the fact that he’s right about anything, let alone anything pertaining to your orgasms.

The larger part of you is focused on the fact that he’s right: you’re going to come and you’re going to come hard.

Your legs are shaking and you brace your arms against the elevator wall to hold yourself up. You moan loudly and arch your back as the feeling starts building in your hips.

“You need this so badly, don’t you?” He nips hard at your earlobe. “You’re desperate for it. I felt you tense up every time your sopping cunt rubbed against my thigh, every time I touched you just right.”

You whimper, pressure rising in your hips as you rock with his hands.

“You’re so close,” Loki purrs in your ear. His hips are thrusting mindlessly against your ass, like he can’t wait to be inside you.

“Fuck, I need to come,” you whimper.

“Oh, I’m going to make you come, darling, but I think what you really need is to be fucked.”

You moan as your orgasm starts to crest.

“You need to be fucked properly and hard,” he murmurs. “You need me to take care of your sopping wet, needy little cunt. You need to be filled to the brim with my cock and my come like the good girl that you are. You need to come over and over on my cock until you can’t take it anymore.”

This is what pushes you over the edge. The muscles of your cunt clench and then pleasure is blooming in your belly as the tension of the last two hours comes to a peak and you come hard. You cry out, your hips rocking against Loki’s hand, chasing the shimmery aftershocks.

“There she is, that’s my good girl,” he purrs. He holds you as you shudder and shake, his fingers still moving, still coaxing out those final waves of pleasure. But just when you think he’s about to pull his hand away, he starts massaging your clit again, one long finger slipping inside you.

“You don’t think you’re going to be satisfied with just one, do you?” he growls in your ear. “Not a needy girl like you, not when you’ve been dripping for hours. You need more, don’t you?”

“Oh fuck—” You can feel that pressure growing again and you know it’s going to be different this time.

“You’re going to come for me again, pretty girl,” he purrs. “And this time, I want to hear you scream.”

Everything is coiling up so tight and tense and suddenly two of his fingers are inside of you and they’re curling just right and the edges of your vision go white as everything inside you fizzes and releases and a sharp cry falls from your lips as you come.

“Good girl,” his voice rumbles low over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

His hand finally stills once the final aftershocks roll through you. Your legs are shaking, but his grip on you is still firm. Boneless, you turn to him and he presses his slick fingers past your lips. You suck and lick his fingers clean and then he’s kissing you, sucking your own essence from your lips and tongue.

“Fuck,” you breathe as the elevator shudders to life. “Fuck, that was so good.”

Loki laughs quietly and scoops you up into his arms as the elevator arrives at your floor.

“Oh, we’re nowhere near done, darling.”

Continued in Part 2

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raplinesmoon · 8 months

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Après Moi, Le Deluge (JHS x F!Reader)

pairing: Hoseok x afab!reader genres/au/rating: angst, smut, some fluff, mafia au, sort of arranged marriage au, exes au, 18+ summary: It was one night. One night where Hoseok sought refuge from the storm outside, from the life he led, from the past that haunted him. And where else does fate lead him but back into your arms?

word count: 8.2k

warnings: the mafia, mentions minor character death, cursing, smoking, alcohol use, use of weapons, strained relationships with parents, mental health issues, mentions threats against people Hoseok cares about, brief, non-graphic depiction of blood and injuries, breakups, makeups, a cameo by one Xu Minghao, Hoseok and OC are both very closed off and bad at communicating, Hoseok is lowkey an asshole for most of this, happy-ish ending, smut warnings: making out, fingering (fem receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, marking, teeny bit of cockwarming

a/n: Hello it is me, profusely apologising because there is no reason this should have taken this long to write, other than I had the worst case of writer's block ever, but I missed Hoseok and I needed to see this through. This fic is set in the same universe as Doom Boy, my Namjoon mafia fic! You don't necessarily have to read Doom Boy to read this, but it may help some of the moments mentioned here make sense! The title is a reference to a famous saying by King Louis XV of France, or if you're me, season 1 episode 11 of The Originals. I hope you all enjoy <3

listen to the playlist here!

The rain slams down on the pavement, rendering the soles of Hoseok’s shoes even more sodden than they’d previously been. A cold, sticky feeling settles across his spine, and he heaves for breath, wishing he could just stop and take a break. But he can’t. He has to keep moving. Resisting the urge to shiver and warm himself up, he rounds the corner.

The day had started off normal enough. Hoseok had been assigned patrol duty for the day by Namjoon, a task he was more than familiar with. After the collapse of the Kim empire and his father’s death, Namjoon had returned to clean up the family business. And he was doing a damn good job at it, training the younger ones like Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook in how to run a business.

But there was more to this than a business, and Namjoon knew that well enough. Someone had to be around to air out the dirty laundry, to clean up the streets. And who better for the job than Hoseok?

He was used to it anyway, more comfortable around knives and guns than he’d ever been around people who weren’t Namjoon, Yoongi, or Seokjin. It was partly the reason he’d been sent out tonight, to monitor the slimy activities that took place under the cover of night.

Yet sometimes, the downpour got the best of Hoseok. He hadn’t been expecting the Choi cronies to spot him, much less for them to be armed. Luckily they were as thick-skulled as Hoseok expected them to be, and he’d been able to craft a quick escape. For the time being.

But it wouldn’t last for long. Hoseok knew the men would be on his tail all night, and as much as he wanted to call for backup, he didn’t feel like bothering Namjoon, Yoongi, or their families, at this time of night. He wouldn’t have had a problem bothering Seokjin, but that fucker had run the moment he’d shot up Namjoon’s father.

Looking around, he falters. The buildings around him loom ominously, stretching much taller than he’s used to, the lights from the highest floors creating artificial stars against the cloudy backdrop of the sky. Hoseok gathers that he must be in the swanky part of town. He scoffs, knowing from personal experience the rich were no better than the mobs and gangs they pretended to look down upon, licking at their bootstraps whenever the necessity arose.

Still, he decides it’s better to take cover. He spots the sleeping security guard from outside one of the buildings, and slips in, shaking the raindrops from his hair. Making his way to the elevators at the end of the lobby, his mind ran with plans of how he’d clean up the mess with the Choi men in a way that Namjoon would approve of.

Which is why he misses the other person entering the elevator at the same time as him, instead collapsing against the railing and letting out a loud sigh, rubbing at his eyes.

“H-Hoseok?” the voice that calls out to him is quiet, barely above a whisper. But its familiarity sends a chill down Hoseok’s spine. It’s a voice he thought he’d never hear again.

His eyes open slowly, and he sees his shocked reflection mirrored in the ones directly across from him, eyes that he’d never been able to forget. The way they look at him now is the same way they’d been the last time he saw you, on a similarly cloudy day.

The eyes of his former fiancée.

The doors of the elevator screech shut, the sound doing nothing to drown out the pounding of your heart. The soft tiny plops of raindrops echo on the grey floor, falling from Hoseok’s hair as he freezes at the sound of your voice.

You suck in a breath, lungs desperately searching for air, unable to squeak out anything beyond his name. Brows furrowing, you check him for any signs of injury, relieved when you find nothing but his blank eyes blinking back at you. You didn’t have to ask him where he’d been tonight. Both of you already knew.

It infuriates you that even after everything, after all this time, he still manages to have this effect on you. You hate how you can’t take your eyes off the lean curve of his neck, or the tiny mole above his heart-shaped smile.

A chill runs down your spine, despite having never stepped foot out in the rain.

“Why are you…” your throat feels heavy, struggling to get the words out, to ask him why he ended up here of all places. Especially when you made it clear you never wanted to see him again after the last time.

“Choi’s men were tailing me, I had to get them off my back,” he barks, immediately regretting his harsh tone when he looks into your weary eyes, on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry,” he adds on, more gently this time. “If I’d have known, I would never…”

Never what? Never managed to infiltrate the one place you thought you could be free of him, from the past the two of you shared?

Your shoulders slump against the panel, and you realize you’d never pressed the button to go up, too consumed by his presence. Finally managing to muster up the focus, you turn away, hearing the elevator creak to life.

“You’re always sorry. How can I be sure that this time, you mean it?”

Hoseok is annoyed. First of all, this damn elevator is taking nearly too long to go anywhere, and he longs for escape from this metallic box that’s imprisoning you both. Second of all, your words cut at him, sharper than any knife and hotter than any bullet any of Choi’s men could have sent his way tonight.

As far as he remembers, you’d been the one to end it. You’d been the one to walk away from your arrangement.

He doesn’t know why he grits his teeth, biting down to combat the throbbing pain in his temples. You were supposed to be gone, your goodbye delivered in the same way the designer bags and packages piled up at your doorstep - neat, polished, shallow, the ties that had brought you together unraveling before they’d even had a chance to be joined properly.

Unfinished business. That’s what you were. And Hoseok hated unfinished business. But somehow, he’d never managed to hate you. You’d never given him a fair chance.

. . .

Hoseok shrugged the wife beater over his head with a grunt, immediately turning around to see if he’d woken up his sleeping companion, but she remained unfazed, her soft snores echoing into the pillow.

He lets his eyes linger over her body appreciatively one last time before he slips on his leather jacket and is out the door. For a brief moment, his hand twitches, yearning to reach into his pocket and call Namjoon for old times’ sake, detailing every last detail of his lascivious romp. The thought is abandoned immediately, Hoseok’s mood souring at the thought of his former best friend. Namjoon had no trouble leaving all of them behind, so why should he even bother? Instead, he reaches into his other pocket, his frenzied emotions finally calming down when he pulls out the lighter. Ducking under an awning, he checks his surroundings for anything suspicious before affirming that the coast is clear, lighting up and taking a drag. The smoke drifts away on the nighttime breeze, and Hoseok follows, roaming the city streets.

It’s lonely at this hour, not another soul in sight, but Hoseok prefers it that way. Gone are the days when he and his friends would run through the city, stealing cars and honking horns at everyone for fun. Now, shit had hit the fan big time, and there was no room for fun anymore. With Namjoon gone, Hoseok, along with Seokjin and Yoongi, had been sucked into the tangled web of duties he’d left behind, each stepping up in their own way.

Holding a gun in his hands for the first time had been a sobering experience for Hoseok. It rattled him that if he pressed down on the trigger, so many things could change in a split second. He’d heard the higher-ups in the organization rave with glee about how much fun it was putting the city’s other families in line, Namjoon’s father at the head of them. And for a brief moment, Hoseok understood what it was that Namjoon had run away from. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still pissed off about it though.

His lips turn up in a smile when he takes in the graffiti on the building in front of him, thinking back to his younger, more rebellious self, before faltering. Someone else was there.

He wonders if you’re cold, the thin satin gown doing nothing to protect you from the chill, and he wants to laugh at the contrast between his well-worn leather jacket and the jewels dripping from your ears. They must cost a few thousands of dollars, money he’d never had in his pocket. His eyes scan around for someone, anyone – a boyfriend, or a husband maybe. But you’re alone.

Nobility has never been Hoseok’s forte - Namjoon and Seokjin had always been the womanizers, and poor Yoongi had been in love with the same woman for over ten years, but he clears his throat, prompting you to turn around, eyes widening at your company.

If he catches a glimpse of unshed tears in your eyes, he doesn’t say anything.

“Kids these days, huh? They’ll do anything to cause a little chaos,” he quips, a sinking feeling building up in his chest when you don’t respond.

“Ma’am,” he grapples with whether he should ask for your name, “do you need me to walk you home?”

“Did you read it?” your voice is quieter than he expects, yet he draws closer, wanting to hear more of it. Coming to stand beside you, he takes in the captivating features of your face, made all the more alluring by the shadows cast across them.

Following your gaze, he looks at the mural on the wall. A giant wave, Hosukai-style, crashing into a set of words. “After me, the flood,” your voice whispers, and Hoseok feels a rush of emotion at the way you say it, his mind circling back to everything that had happened in the past few years - the dark cloud that had settled over all their lives with Namjoon leaving, the city’s underbelly coming to life, crawling out of the woodwork.

“I have to go,” you interrupt him, heels clacking against the pavement, before Hoseok’s gaze turns sharply on you, the desperation in his eyes begging you not to go. Come sunrise, he’d be forced back into the same grim routine, but right now, it felt nice, standing here with you.

“Will you be okay getting home alone?” he asks, grappling for any chance to prolong the moment.

“My driver is around the corner,” you tell him. “Thank you for keeping me company, –”

“Hoseok,” he fills you in, his chest aching with the desire to ask for your own name, but you’re already gone.

. . .

Hoseok wakes up the next morning to the rattling of the blinds, the sunlight causing him to immediately shut his eyes and bite back a groan. There was only one person who’d have access to his apartment at this hour – and exploit it.

“Eomma?” he rasps, burrowing his head further into the sheets. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you forget Hoseok-ah? Hurry up and get dressed, everyone’s waiting! You have five minutes.”

Forget what? His mother’s fussing continues in the background as she leafs through his closet, no doubt trying to find him a suitable outfit amongst the many pairs of ripped denim and oversized shirts he prefers on a day-to-day basis. Hoseok wracks his brain, trying to remember what could have called for such an occasion, but comes up empty, his mother’s stern warning echoing in his ears.

As per usual, if it had anything to do with the organization, he’d do best not to ignore it.

Slipping on the stark white shirt and tie she’d chosen, the fabric itches against his skin, and he rakes his fingers through his hair, attempting to comb the mess into something somewhat presentable. He’s sure there was little to be done about the bags under his eyes, and the faint smell of tobacco emanating from him, and hoped that whoever these important guests were, they wouldn’t catch onto his late-night activities from the previous day.

Stumbling into the hallway, Hoseok hears the faint chatter of voices, his father’s bellowing laugh a stark contrast to his mother’s delicate titter, and is immediately confused. Conversations with the bosses of the organization weren’t usually so… enthusiastic.

When he rounds the corner to his living room, he stops in his tracks. Sitting next to his mother and father is another older couple he doesn’t recognize. They reek of wealth that his family could never even imagine, he notes, the polished Italian leather of the man’s shoes and the older woman’s massive diamond ring speaking for themselves. But he could honestly care less. Because to their left side, sitting on his favorite armchair, is you. The woman from in front of the mural. You’re clad in a simple sundress today, but you still manage to be nothing short of breathtaking against the backdrop of the sun’s rays.

“There you are, Hoseok!” his father beckons him over jovially, but Hoseok remains frozen. “This is Mr. and Mrs. ____, and their daughter ____.”

Hoseok’s turns his gaze to his father, watching him recoil at the sharpness present in his son’s expression, a thousand unspoken questions lingering on his lips as to why these people were here, what purpose they had in his home, his space.

“We’d like for the two of you to get to know each other,” your mother speaks up with a smile so wide, he’d assume it’d been plastered onto her face.

“Why?” he finally manages to whistle out in between grit teeth, looking only at you. But you don’t meet his eyes. Instead, your gaze is looking out his window, at the city beyond, the same loneliness from last night ever present in your eyes.

“Because,” his father continues uncertainly, fidgeting the glass of wine in his hands, “___ is going to be your wife.”

You can feel Hoseok’s eyes glaring into the back of your head as he follows you wordlessly down the hallway. Moments pass before you come to a stop outside your apartment, and you hear the faint stumble of Hoseok’s boots as he stops unexpectedly in his tracks. His warm breath fans against the back of your neck for a brief moment before he straightens with a grunt, and you resist the urge to shiver, despite having never stepped foot into the rain.

The lock clicks, and he follows you inside. You can hear him rustle behind you as he struggles to remove his coat and boots, but you look straight ahead, hoping the darkness can hide how your fingernails are digging into your palm.

“I won’t stay long,” his low voice breaks the silence. “Just until the storm passes.”

“Please,” you manage to muster up your most polite sounding voice. “Have a seat. I can get you something, maybe some water, o-or a cup of tea…”

You want to curse your voice for wobbling in his presence, hating the way he still affected you even after all this time apart. Your brain bades you to walk away instinctively, and so you pad into the kitchen, wanting to put distance in between you and Hoseok so he can’t hear the rapid fluttering of your heart. The noise pounds in your ears as you rattle around in the cupboards, cursing when you realized you’d forgotten to turn on the light. It seemed embarrassing to do it now, and so you reach aimlessly, looking for some coffee.

The pot bubbles, and in mere moments, you’re clutching two steaming mugs, finding your way back onto the living room. Hoseok has settled himself onto your couch, taking extra care not to rest his soaked shirt against the back of it, instead hunched over and dangling an unlit cigarette from his fingertips.

“Sorry, I didn’t know if you’d be okay with me…” he gestures to it, twirling it around in his fingers. “I know you don’t like the smell.”

You’re unsure whether to be touched that he remembers, or uneasy at the way he says it so monotonously, as if you’d still judge him for something so mundane when so much else had happened in between you.

“Here,” you set down the coffee in front of him, taking the seat directly opposite. “It’ll help take the edge off.”

The warm liquid burns your throat as you rush to take a sip, and you nearly sputter trying to keep it down. Over the rim of your cup, Hoseok remains frozen, his own mug steaming and untouched. His dark eyes bore into you, studying your face, and you feel your cheeks begin to burn.

If he notices the bags under your eyes, he says nothing. The same way he says nothing when he probably remarks at your simplistic clothes and lack of jewelry, a far cry from the expensive dresses and diamonds he’d been used to seeing you in.

“Were you about to go out?” Hoseok asks, and the question catches you off guard. “I’m sorry if I stopped you from going somewhere.”

“Or meeting someone.” The last part is a hushed whisper, mumbled underneath his breath, in the hopes that you wouldn’t catch him. But you had. You wish he’d stop apologizing. It makes you feel guilty when you shouldn’t be, like he’s trying and you’re shutting him out, when in reality it’d been the exact opposite.

All of a sudden, your phone buzzes to life, a text message lighting up the screen. You freeze when you see who it’s from, quickly snatching your phone and cursing in your head. Minghao was a friend of a friend, the two of you running into each other a number of times over the past couple of weeks, before he’d finally plucked up the courage to ask you for a coffee date.

You’d told him you’d think about it, and now here he was, lighting up your phone to ask you about your decision. Of course, how was he supposed to know that the reason you’d been holding off was the very man sitting in your living room, whom you’d almost married, and still couldn’t seem to let go?

Clutching your phone to your chest, you turn it to silent, setting it down beside you. Hoseok’s eyes are alight with curiosity, his lips turned up in a faint smirk, as though he’s remembering his statement from earlier.

You take another sip, willing the caffeine to give you some strength, to rein in the bare threads of this conversation back to your control.

“How are your parents?”

Hoseok is taken aback by the question. He hadn’t expected it from you. There had once been a time where you’d been bright eyed and eager, wanting to know everything about him, bombarding him with question after question every time you were together. And yet somehow, he’d never managed to give you the time of day, always giving brusque answers and half-hearted excuses that there were other things that needed his attention.

He knew it was just a poor attempt to fill the silence, but his heart lurches at the thought that there’s so much you don’t know anymore. Namjoon coming back, Seokjin running away, the life that Hoseok knew being turned inside out. What’s more unsettling is the fact that he yearns to tell you, despite knowing he’d lost the privilege to do so.

“They’re okay. Doing well,” he lies through his teeth. “We all are. How about yours?”

He thinks it’s an innocent question, but he watches your fingers blanch as you grip the mug so tight, he thinks it’ll break.

“I wouldn’t know,” you whisper out softly, and his heart stops. “I haven’t spoken to them since– you know.”

Hoseok feels dizzy at your confession. What do you mean you hadn’t spoken to them? Suddenly, it all begins to make sense in his head. The fact that he hadn’t expected to run into you tonight, because he hadn’t expected you to live alone, with your austere clothes and hair tossed up into a messy bun. It was so different from the woman he’d known, the dazzling one he’d written off as hollow in his mind, the one he was incapable of forming a real relationship with.

And here you were, living the exact opposite of the cozy life he’d painted for you in his head. He thought you’d be fine, that you’d move on, your family offering you up to the next prospect that came along. And you’d accept them, like you’d accepted Hoseok with all his flaws, not caring that he could barely give you what you deserved.

His thoughts flash back to the last conversation you had, tears streaming down your face as you sobbed.

I can’t live like this anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, and he watches annoyance flash across your face. He knows he’s done nothing but apologize this entire time, but it probably isn’t even worth a damn. No consolation would ever make up for losing someone that meant everything to you. He’d known that when Namjoon had run away.

“Hey,” you set the mug down, leaning over the table. For a brief second, he sees your hand reach out blindly in the darkness, almost as if it’s searching for his, but you withdraw just as quickly. “I’m okay. I really am.”

“I wish you’d stop pretending,” Hoseok blurts out, and he watches you jolt in surprise. “Why do you always have to pretend like everything’s okay, like nothing affects you? Is it the society training? Or do you really just not care about what happened at all?”

You chew the inside of your cheek, mulling over Hoseok’s words in your head.

“The same way you can pull the trigger on someone and be able to lie in your bed and fall asleep,” you seethe, a venom that Hoseok has never heard in your voice.

“I knew who you were Hoseok. I knew what kind of man I was marrying. You think it didn’t affect me? You think I wasn’t scared out of my wits because of what you did, what other people could do to you?”

You rise up, palms quivering as you open and close them, strolling over to the window. Hoseok watches your shoulders shake before they slump completely, and he knows that you’re crying.

He’s up before he can stop himself, feet ready to walk out the door. He’d fucked up the moment he’d stayed in the elevator with you, all the ugly feelings between you coming to a head, ones he’d struggled so hard to keep buried.

But his body betrays him, instead leading him right behind. He pauses until he’s just close enough that if he reaches out, he’d be able to grab your arm and turn you around to face him. But he waits instead.

“I did what I did because I realized I was chasing a ghost,” you huff out, resignation in your tone. “I wanted you to be someone you weren’t. I wanted you to care so badly. But you didn’t. I don’t want any part in whatever you’re caught up in, Hoseok. Whatever has a hold on you so badly that you couldn’t even look beyond your cynicism to give me a chance.”

“I just want to survive.”

Hoseok grips the bathroom sink, knuckles turning white. His cell phone clatters on the counter beside him and he has to keep from heaving. This whole thing was a mess – no one had counted on Namjoon coming back. Even less so on him refusing to take up his father’s mantle. And so the threats continued – the words from the anonymous phone call still ringing in his ear, your name echoing across the line.

While he didn’t know what he felt for you, or whether he could even marry you, Hoseok knew you were an innocent person. You didn’t deserve to be the victim of your parents’ greed, them using you to bury their secrets in the hands of even more powerful people. You deserved gardens full of flowers and meals together every night, not coming home to an empty bed. Or a fiancé who couldn’t spare a moment during the entire night to even dance with you.

He’s so lost in his brooding that he doesn’t hear the door the click behind him, the soft tapping of heels on the floor coming up behind him.

“Is something wrong?” you ask him gently, and he feels the bristle of your hand on his jacket.

So much was wrong. You couldn’t even begin to understand.

“It’s fine,” he clears his throat, straightening up to adjust his jacket. “I’ll need to leave soon. I can have the car stay behind for you.”

The farther away he got from you, the better. That way no one could hurt you – or him.

“I can go with you,” your voice echoes from beside him, “I was getting tired anyway.”

Hoseok turns to face you, watching you recoil at the red rimming his eyes, the bags underneath them becoming even more prominent in the dim lighting of the bathroom.

He doesn’t know what possesses him to reach for the single strand of hair that has managed to escape your polished bun, but he watches you suck in a breath, lips parting in surprise.

Before he knows it, your face is drawing in closer, and he can smell the rosé on your breath. Your lips barely ghost against his, and he has to fight every nerve ending not to grab your hand and run away from here, somewhere where he wasn’t Hoseok, and you weren’t ____, and you didn’t need protecting from everything around you – most of all him.

His paralysis slowly melts away and he’s pushing you away without realizing, the door to the bathroom suddenly materialising in front of him.

“Like I said,” he doesn’t bother turning around, knowing his heart would twist at whatever expression he found on your face. “I’ll have the car stay behind for you.”

Before you can wrestle with the weight of your confession to Hoseok, a hand is clamping over your mouth. Caught in a silent scream, you turn your eyes to see Hoseok lifting a finger to his lips, willing you to stay quiet. And that’s when you hear them. The voices.

Raucous laughter echoes through the hallway, tinged with malevolent glee. The air around you feels cold, a breeze at the base of your spine, and you instinctively curl into Hoseok.

“Come out, come out,” the disembodied voice cackles from the hallway. “Are you hiding from us, Jung? Found some poor rich girl to use as a body shield?”

Your hand seizes Hoseok’s wrist clamped against your mouth, nails digging into his arm, the fear taking over. Slowly, his wrist lowers, slipping to take your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?”

He’s so quiet you almost can’t tell he’s said it at all. You nod reluctantly, eyes continuing to dart to the door.

“Go hide underneath the bed. Lock the door. I may or may not come back but please stay inside. Don’t come looking for me.”

His voice is clipped, the faint hint of nerves colouring his tone, but his eyes are filled with a resoluteness you know all too well. You’d spent the better part of over a year staring into them, hoping they’d look back. And now they finally were.

“Be safe.” Your voice comes out louder than you’d intended, but there’s no anger in Hoseok’s expression. All he does is nod, and then you turn, stumbling down the hallway to your room, never bothering to look back until you hear the door click behind you.

. . .

Hoseok’s heart pounds in his chest, a strange pain settling in his ribs – he never expected to be in this position again. His sense of duty had always been his biggest downfall – and while you were no longer his, he owed it to you to make sure he gave you exactly what you’d asked him for – the chance to survive, to come out on the other side of this. That’s why he had to settle this once and for all.

Choi’s cronies linger at the other end of the hallway, too dumb to notice Hoseok slipping out of your door, reaching for the revolver he’d kept hidden in his coat pocket. A chill settles in his bones as he runs his fingers over the metal.

The brief events of the night play over in his head – the rain pounding against the pavement, the ding of the elevator, the now-cold mug of coffee that sat on your coffee table. And then there was you – your eyes, the softness of your skin, the faint smell of gardenias that lingered on your skin.

And it hits Hoseok that while he was very much alive – he’d been in mourning. Mourning for the friendships he’d never be able to recover, for the youth that had been taken away from him. But most of all, Hoseok’s heart mourns for the relationship he’d never gotten to have with you. The glass walls he’d so carefully put up around himself shatter, making way for a torrential deluge.

After me, the flood.

He remembers the first night you’d met, how he’d been drawn to you without even trying, the portrait of the wave. He remembers the months that passed afterwards, where you drew closer to him and he drew back. He remembers the regret he’d buried deep in his heart for not kissing you back the night of the gala, not knowing he’d never get another chance.

But most of all, he remembers the somber expression on your face the day you’d ended things, pressing the engagement ring back into his hands, the very same ring that was still sitting in the first drawer of his nightstand.

Choi’s men finally perk up, noticing Hoseok’s solitary figure lingering at the end of the hallway, smirks twisting on their grotesque faces. A shot rings out, and Hoseok thinks of you now, hiding under your bed. And then he charges.

The alleyway was grim at this time of day, the sunlight barely able to reach beyond the towering skyscrapers, the clouds casting everything in grey. Rain fell softly from the sky. You clutch your coat tighter around you, unable to stop looking at the mural of the wave.

So much had changed since you’d first seen it. And yet it was still the same.

You know Hoseok from the thud of his boots against the pavement, coming up beside you. His head turns, an eyebrow raised in your direction, wondering why you’d asked to meet him here of all places.

You avoid his eyes, fingers clasping around the blue velvet in your pocket. His eyes widen with surprise when he sees the box, confusion marring his handsome face.

A knot forms in your chest when you watch the confusion turn into alarm as you press the box into his hand, the dazzling diamond no longer on your left finger.

“I don’t understand,” he grunts, breath visible in the cold air.

“We can’t do this anymore, Hoseok. I can’t do this. I can’t live like this.”

“Was it something that I did?” he questions you, desperation creeping into his voice.

You scoff, watching him flinch, pain on his face.

“No, it’s the opposite. It’s what you haven’t ever been able to do. It’s been an entire year, Hoseok. I’ve watched you answer every phone call that comes your way, disappear into the night to do god knows what, run whenever your friends call. And in that entire time, have you ever thought about us? About the future?”

You take a deep breath.

“I know that neither of us chose this, but Hoseok, we were engaged. Did that mean anything to you?”

He squares his shoulders, fists clenching at his sides, a tick in his jaw.

“You don’t understand. I-I’m not good for you, ___. I dont think I’ll ever be. There’s too much that’s happened, too much I’ve lost. But please don’t walk away like this.

“I thought it’d be enough,” you whisper, and Hoseok freezes. You didn’t know he’d heard you.

“I thought me loving you would be enough for the both of us. But it’s not. I need more. I need someone who I know will come home to me every night. But what I need even more than that, is for you to let me walk away so I can breathe again. So I can be myself.”

Your eyes are just as sad as the first time Hoseok saw them, and all of a sudden, you remark at how stagnant the two of you had been together.

“Hoseok please, I know I can’t ask you to do it if you love me, but if you’ve ever cared about me, even the tiniest bit, let me go.”

You watch him open the box, gazing at the ring. Moments pass by before he slips it into his own pocket, his eyes flitting to the wave as he gives you a small smile, the most genuine one you’d ever seen.

“Goodbye, ____.

Hoseok’s fist rattles against the door, before he slumps over, heaving for breath. The pain in his side licks at him like the flames of a fire. He hisses when he presses a hand to it, eyes widening when it comes away covered in blood. Those fuckers had managed to get him. Shit.

His eyes are about to close when the door springs open, the wide eyes of Kim Namjoon taking in his battered figure.

“Hobi, what the fuck?” Namjoon seethes, offering him an arm and pulling him inside. Slinging an arm around Hoseok’s shoulder, the two of them hobble to Namjoon’s kitchen, the burning in Hoseok chest causing him to let out a loud groan.

“Hyun is sleeping,” Namjoon chastises him, and Hoseok bites his tongue, remembering that this Namjoon was dealing with a pregnant wife and a toddler. “You gonna tell me what the hell happened, or do I have to force it out of you?”

“I made a mistake, Namjoon. I went somewhere I shouldn’t have tonight. I fucked up, but I-I didn’t mean to I swear…”

Hoseok feels himself shake as the words pour out, the ruined mission the furthest thing from his mind. He tells Namjoon everything – from being tailed to running into to you, to how he’d left, not knowing whether you were okay or not.

“That was a dick move,” Namjoon huffs.

“Excuse me?” Hoseok looks up at his best friend, who looks more pissed off than he’s ever seen him.

“I said what I said. That was a dick move, just leaving her like that.”

“I don’t need a lecture on running away from you, Namjoon-ah.”

Namjoon wipes away the blood on his side, and Hoseok bites his tongue at the sting of the alcohol, before slumping into the chair next to him.

“You’re an idiot, Jung Hoseok. You’ve been so afraid of letting yourself feel things for so long, and I know it’s because you think that everyone around you is going to leave, or that you’ll lose them. But I’m telling you right now, that’s the stupidest thing you could ever do.”

“You have to let yourself just be, Hobi. Just let go. Enjoy things - life, your friends, your family. Be open to the possibility of love. It’s the only thing that can keep the darkness away.”

Namjoon’s voice shrinks when he says the last line, and Hoseok knows his friend is far off in his own mind, battling the demons that plague him.

“I think I’m too far gone for that, Namjoon,” Hoseok tells him. “Maybe some of us weren’t meant for happiness. Maybe some of us needed to make sacrifices so others could live the lives they wanted to.”

“That’s a damn lie if I’ve ever heard one, Hoseok.” Namjoon striaghtens, rising up from the chair. “I know you’ve been angry at me for leaving, for keeping you all in the dark. I know how much it hurts to not be able to share your happiest moments with people you love. And I’m sorry for that. But you have a chance to change things.”

“Listen Hobi,” Namjoon crouches down to his level. “I want to be the best man at your wedding – I want to be there for you in all the ways you didn’t get to do for me. This is my way of making amends, but you need to fix whatever this is between you two.”

“What makes you think she’ll even take me back? I was awful to her… god, she didn’t deserve that Joon. She deserves so much better.”

“Do you love her?” Namjoon asks him, and Hoseok is shocked when he doesn’t even have to pause to think about it. He wants to start over, to be by your side, to have a chance to love you properly this time around.

“Second chances come when you least expect them, Hobi. Think about what would have happened if you hadn’t stepped out into the rain last night. And don’t let it happen again.”

The knock at the door startles you, your phone clattering to the floor. Swearing under your breath, you pick it up, perusing the message from Minghao once again. He was nothing if not persistent. And Hoseok was never coming back. You’d convinced yourself of that.

It’d been over a week since he’d left you that night - the promise to keep you safe burrowing its way into your heart. And then radio silence. You’d heard the gunshots in the hallway, but when you’d opened the door, no one was there, the only evidence of the showdown being the faint splatters of blood on the wall. When the police had questioned you, you’d left Hoseok’s name out of it – those words echoing in your mind, instilling a false sense of loyalty in you.

Why did you think things would be different this time around? It’d been foolish to assume that Hoseok thought anything more of you. But you couldn’t forget the look in his eyes, the gentle touches, the way he’d promise he would never let anything happen to you, and you fell for him all over again.

Throwing your phone aside, you grumble as you make your way to the door, making a mental note to respond to Minghao later, agreeing to the date.

Swinging it open, you freeze when you see who’s on the other end. Hoseok, looking worse for wear with bruises on his jaw and a nasty cut on his forehead, nervously twirling a tiny bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You’re dumbfounded - unable to speak as you take him in, his dark, inquisitive eyes gazing into your shocked ones.

“You better let me in, ____,” he says with a grin. “Or the neighbours are gonna think I did something really bad this time.”

Wordlessly, you open the door to allow him to enter, watching as he slips off his coat and shoes, an exact repeat of a week ago. You watch him, trying to open your mouth and say something, ask him anything, but nothing will come out.

“These are for you,” Hoseok nearly shoves the bouquet in your hands and you watch him rub at the back of his neck, his ears reddening.

“Are you okay Hoseok?” you finally manage to ask him, setting the flowers on your coffee table. Your concern wins out over your confusion once again, but the whole scene is odd – him, smiling in your apartment, the late afternoon sunlight casting half his angular face in a mysterious shadow.

“Just a little nick to my side,” he lifts his shirt up, your eyes widening at the bandages on his abdomen. “But actually, I’m not okay. I haven’t been okay since the day I let you walk away, and I can’t live with it anymore.”

You take a step back, unable to breathe. The space in between you seems to have lessened considerably, and you can make out every delicate detail of his face. Dizzy, you put some distance in between the two of you.

“Everything hurts, ___. It hurts because I look at you and I feel like I can’t breathe anymore, knowing how much pain I put you through. It hurts knowing that you’re so kind, so understanding of someone like me, when I don’t deserve it at all. And what hurts the most is knowing that I love you, and I’ve been lying to myself this entire time because I’m afraid you’ll leave just like everyone else, but I lost you anyway.”

Hoseok’s voice cracks on the last words, and you watch him sway, gripping onto your counter for support.

“I thought it was just me this entire time,” you finally manage to look him in the eyes, tears spilling out of your own. “I thought I was crazy, because ever since you walked out that door a week ago, all I’ve been doing is waiting for you to come back.”

“I’m here,” Hoseok closes the gap between you, arms wrapping around you. You breathe in the faint scent of tobacco on his leather jacket, mixed with the spice of his cologne. “And I’m not leaving. Not this time.”

You grip his lapels, before your arms come up to wrap around his neck, running your fingers through the soft hair at his nape.

“What if it’s not different this time around?” you whisper into his neck. “What if nothing changes?”

“What if it is?” his low voice rumbles into your hair. “Can you trust me, ___? One more time?”

You take his hand in yours, bringing it to your chest, his lips parting in awe at the fluttering of your heartbeat.

“Only you can do that to me,” you say softly, a smile gracing your lips.

Before you know it, Hoseok’s lips are crashing against yours, and you can feel him release a euphoric sigh, groaning into your mouth. It’s slow, tentative in the way he waits for your body to respond, never pushing more than you’re comfortable with. Eventually, even the small bit of distance in between you becomes too much to bear. You card your fingers into his hair, pulling slightly at the strands, warmth blossoming in your chest.

It feels too short when he pulls away all too soon, lips tinged with red and eyes dark with something that sends a shiver down your spine.

“I’ve wanted to do that ever since the night of the gala,” he rasps, warmth blooming in your chest at his confession. “You were—, I mean you still are, breathtaking.”

You can feel the rapid beat of his heart, his pulse point right there below your fingertips, and you reach for his hand, watching his entire body soften at your touch.

“Come with me,” you ask him, eyes turning down the hallway to your bedroom. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for.

Hoseok tries to ignore the rapid rushing of blood in his ears, his focus narrowing to your head resting on his shoulder, the two of you looking out at the city together for the last little while from your bed. It’s somewhere he never imagined he’d be, but he’d felt the ice around his heart melt the moment he’d finally kissed you for real, warmth filling his veins.

And despite relishing in your presence, it was spiking to a fever pitch. He’d tasted you, and now he couldn’t get enough. All it takes is a brief moment for you to look in his eyes, and he’s pulling you into him once again, mouth hard on yours, unable to resist the desire for more, more, more.

You whine into his mouth, hands fisting at the edge of his shirt, struggling to pull it over his head. He uses one hand to pin both arms behind you, reaching over with the other to hike your dress up to your stomach, finally peeling it off, and you lie back, eyes alight with desire as you take him in.

He kisses you again, his lean body hovering over yours, hands roaming everywhere – your arms, up your neck, and on your thighs. He inches higher and higher, fingers ghosting over your core.

“Hoseok please,” you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulder blades. “I can’t wait anymore.”

You part your thighs for him, and he wastes no time, pulling your soaked underwear to the side and dipping his fingers into your arousal. He presses another hard kiss to your lips, catching your moans in his mouth while he works you open, leaving you trembling underneath him.

You whine when his fingers leave you, clenching around nothing, coming up to cup your exposed breasts in both hands while he licks and sucks at your nipples.

“Fuck,” he groans against your chest. “How are you so perfect? How are you even mine?”

His voice breaks, and you mouth at his jaw, mirroring his actions until purple bruises begin to bloom in the spots where your lips previously were.

“I’m yours,” you nip at his bottom lip. “Whether you like it or not.”

“Believe me,” he smirks. “I like it. I like it a lot actually. Let me show you how much.”

With adept skill, he manages to remove your panties in seconds, throwing them to the wall. The clinking sound of his belt drives you mad, and your hands join his, the two of you awkwardly fumbling to remove it.

You feel your mouth go dry when his cock springs free, and he chuckles at the depraved look in your eyes.

“Some other time, love,” he whispers, voice lowering a few octaves. “Right now, I need to feel you.”

You gasp when he pushes in, and he pauses, wondering if it’s too much, but you nod, letting him know it’s okay. He thrusts shallowly, before pushing in all the way, watching you squirm underneath him while rutting your hips.

“Move, please,” you beg him, and he obliges, hiking one leg up over his shoulder to open you up for him, the wet sounds of your pussy accompanying the fluid snap of his hips. His knuckles grip the headboard, turning white while he pins you underneath him, unable to take his eyes off the way your tits bounce with every thrust. His hands grip at your ass, every jerk of his hips an excuse to hold you tighter, until he can see your skin redden underneath his fingers.

“Oh my god, Hoseok, I can’t–, it’s too much,” you groan, rocking against him in an attempt to quell the sparks underneath your skin, lighting you up like a livewire.

“Come for me,” he grunts, trapping your clit in between his fingers, rubbing tight circles until you snap, seeking his lips once again, your orgasm flooding your entire body like a wave. Hoseok speeds up his thrusts to join you, roaring when he feels himself explode, before slumping against you, chest heaving with the weight of his breaths.

Moments pass like this, him remaining inside you while he burrows into the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning your damp skin. Eventually he pulls out of you with a soft whine, brushing away the sweat-soaked strands of hair at your temple, before rising.

You trap his wrist in your hand, panic settling in. He watches your expression change and immediately stiffens, cradling you against his chest.

“That expression you always talk about, the flood. I-, I looked it up. And I know the life I have isn’t ideal, and maybe things will only get harder, but I promise I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I don’t want to live out the rest of my life not caring anymore.”

“Do you know what I was thinking of that night, looking at the wave?” you mumble in his ear, and he gazes at you inquisitively, watching the way your skin glows under the moonlight as you take a breath.

“My whole life, people have forced me into this box, this image, of someone they want me to be – the perfect daughter, the perfect wife. It’s been suffocating. All I wanted that night was a taste of freedom - that feeling of happiness you have on a beach, feeling the waves crash at your feet. And then I saw you.”

Hoseok leaves a kiss in your hair, his fingers intertwining with yours. Briefly, his heart drops at the absence of the ring he’d given you on your finger, but he knows when you’re ready, it’ll be waiting for you. He’ll be waiting for you. And the two of you will step into the flood, together.

a/n pt. 2: Okay long ending note here. First, please visualize this Hoseok with the undercut ;) Second, I don't normally say this but the writer's block really got me good with this one, so I apologize if it's not up to my usual standards (pls be kind tho). And third and last, this fic definitely would never exist if it weren't for the wonderful Guarded series by Ana (@xjoonchildx). I think about it more than is necessary and this is definitely my tribute to the impeccable Captain Jung.

As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3

taglist (pls let me know if you want to be removed): @jalexad @secfir @hobi-love @back2bluesidex @temptingempress

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whatthebodygraspsnot · 2 months

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#canon divergence where they get drunk as hell on hot toddies one night and keep calling each other papa bear and baby bear

.....can i have this? pretty please? how can i get this? what can i do?

one (1) beautiful kiss is my fee

it’s a dark and chilly night. spring is just around the corner, but before it comes, winter’s using its icy clutches to snatch them up one more time.

ian is grumbly (“we’re so close to tomatoes mick 😩 i can practically taste em”) but mickey sees it as an opportunity to trap his husband in for the night and get him good n liquored up.

they’ve been on a bit of a hot toddy kick for a lot of winter, claiming that it’s something they can be overly decadent about because what they’re spending on ingredients, they’re saving on their heating bills - their internal temps and shared body heat rendering their furnace unnecessary.

they’ve tried apple cider toddies, ginger, even a coffee recipe that left them both grimacing at each other after a single sip, never to drink again.

tonight it’s a tried and true favorite - bourbon, honey, a lil cinnamon stick that mickey always ends up puffing on like a cigar to make ian laugh. he’s returning with their third round (it’s very cold, okay?) and ian is a heavy-lidded, slightly swaying angel where he’s waiting for him on the couch, the blanket bunched over his lap.

“thank you, honey,” he grins, amused beyond belief with his own joke as he accepts the warm glass with both hands. it’s only interrupted when his sip leaves him sucking in quickly, cooling his mouth with a breath. “oo…that shit is too hot.”

mickey helps himself to the other end of the couch, “yeah alright, goldilocks,” remembering to at least blow on his first because this has to be their hundredth hot toddy of the season, and his husband is sometimes a simple man, bless his fucking heart.

and speaking of.

the sound of glass hitting their coffee table is mickey’s first warning of the approach. what comes next is the shifting of the couch cushions, ian helping himself to every inch of his personal space. “goldilocks, huh?” he murmurs through a drunken grin, lifting mickey’s glass now too and taking it away with great care. “think i’m more of a papa bear, no?”

mickey blinks. can’t help the smile that tugs at his own mouth. “no.”

but he’ll definitely take ian loving up on him, all that warm, spiced bourbon warming his belly. “mhm…”

“and who’s that make me, huh…?”

ian noses close, sharing his smile with him as their lips brush. “mm…baby bear, of course…”

mickey can taste the honey. the cinnamon. the deep, infectious desire to play as it radiates off his husband. “you callin’ me short?”

a beat… “no, baby…”

“think i’m more of a papa bear outta the two of us.”

ian’s big ol head lists back a little, his heavy-blink unconvinced. “no, baby…”

and really, how is that not an invitation to play?

“oh yeah,” mickey insists, using the space to flip the script and start crowding ian instead, pushing him back to the other end of the couch until he’s made himself sooo fucking comfortable in his lap. “you’re baby bear, on account-a how fuckin’ cute you are.”

ian looks up at him, trapped in now by mickey’s thighs squeezing him on both sides. “whole point of goldilocks is sizes, mick,” he slurs. like he’s really doin somethin with it. his big thesis statement. “papa bear’s biggest.” and of course those big ol arms wrap around mickey to prove it. “like me.”

mickey grins down at him from his seat in his lap. can’t deny that ian being so fucking huge is a very real turn on for him. but. “‘big’ don’t gotta mean size, ya know.”

“that right…?”

“uh uh,” mickey explains. and damn, fucking on the couch could be nice right now, huh? “‘big’… ‘papa bear’… s’all about power.”

ian blinks up at him. processes. and then slowly, his brows furrow in amusement. “mick…you want me to call you daddy, just fuckin’ say so.”

it’s got them both collapsing into a mess of drunken, breathy giggles, the wind whipping away outside as ian gains the upper hand and lowers mickey onto his back on the couch, following him down with a steamy “c’mere, baby bear.”

by the time they make it back to their drinks, they are no longer too hot.

#julissa the things i do for you are far reaching and never ending #gallavich #asks #ray writes

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rerefundslocals · 1 year

Text

Do it right j.jk

Summary : tip toeing has never gotten you anywhere, and with your undying crush for your roommate, you definitely aren't tip toeing through it too.

>>pairing : Jungkook x fem!reader

>>trope : roommates to lovers

>>genre : tiny angst, fluff, tiny ahh smut

>>word count : 1.7k

>>warnings/tags : softkoo, teasing, makeout sesh, dry humping, cumming through panties and briefs, mention of jungkooks legs, confessions, some attempt at poetry?.., they're cute.

a/n - uhh I'm trying to get descriptive as possible with my writing, but for now, here's something from jungkooks part 1 live!! And just little side comment. Set me free pt 2?!?!? Makes me wanna write for Jimin😭. Uhm anyways enjoy and feedback is very encouraging and I want it so much, so please don't be shy. (Not proof read)

~★~

"Too cold or too hot?"

"Just right, Kook."

Sitting in your shared living room, you and your roommate sit discussing the weather.

"Right?! Thank heavens this weather isn't boiling or freezing us to death." Jungkook exaggerates, while standing up to head to the kitchen.

His legs are on display today as he sports a Nike short and a black shirt, hair ridden as it frames his pretty face. Though you won't tell him.

"Yup." You reply, popping your p.

Your head is tilted to the side as you try to peak at Jungkook, and see what he is doing in the kitchen. He looks like he's pouring a drink for you both as your ears recieve the sound of two glasses hitting the countertop and you lick your lips at the though of the drink. Your cravings for jungkooks treat sitting at the back of your mind.

Both you and Jungkook have been roommates for about 4 years and oh has it been the most tempting years of your life.

While you try to avoid your feelings, You're completely oblivious of Jungkooks own.

Well mainly cause, he'll like to bring his hookups in the apartment and fuck them dizzy till morning while you quietly sob cause you're in that deep.

But they'd be gone by morning. The feelings, you mean. Atleast you try to rid them by getting hookups as well, and damn, they dont work. You'll be thinking of Jungkook during a makeout sesh, and it completely throws you off.

Why did you fall for him again? Why can't he like you back? And why is it yout goddamn roommate of four years?

All these questions play like a song playing on loop on your Spotify playlist. Haunting you on and on.

And this song. It never stops. As hard as you try to pause the song, to stop the song, or move on to the next song. It is nearly impossible and it pisses you off.

Because you just wanna play the next song. You wanna think of something different.

Maybe the sun and how bright it is, or the stars and how glowy they are or even think of what to eat Tommorow. But it is almost impossible with that same damn song playing in your mind and worst part ever?

You aren't fucking bored of it.

The glass in front of you and Jungkooks voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

"You're zoning out an awfall lot, Princess." He teases, but lowkey serious.

"O-Oh right, Thanks, Kook." You reply, completely letting the petname pass off as normal.

Jungkook moves closer to you out of instinct as one of his hands come up to fix your sundress strap that was falling off.

You cough slightly, "Thank you, Kook." He only nods and lays his head on your bare shoulder right after taking a sip of his iced coffee.

"Tell me what's on your mind." He prods.

What is on your mind? Could possibly be him. But you won't tell him that.

"A date I have tonight." You blurt. Well it's not entirely a lie, but Mya did invite you for this double date with strangers she found on tinder.

To be fair, she thought it'd be fun.

Jungkook bluffs as he sits up. "You? A date? Since when?"

"Oh why do you care?" You spit. Unintentionally being mean.

"I was just joking, chill. And it was a simple question, ____." You render in your head, that yeah it was a simple question and you're just so fucking sensitive, because you have a big fat crush on Jungkook. Emphasis on the fat.

"Right. I lowkey don't wanna go though." You mumble, but Jungkook catches it.

"Stay with me then. We can ball out on the Whiskey and watch some John Wick before the new one comes out. And when it does, watch it with me. On me. I'll pay for everything." He says, eyes daring into yours as he finishes, tongue toying with his lip piercing.

When you dint respond for almost a minute. Jungkooks tattooed hand reaches out to touch your bare thigh, caressing it softly to gain your attention. "Mmh,Princess. What ya' think?"

Stuttering, "oh yeah right, that's perfect. I'll text Mya to cancel." You respond.

Jungkooks hand never leaves your thigh as he continues to caress it while you scramble for your phone that's next to you, to send Mya a quick text.

Your mind is wobbly and all over the place as you text Mya. Jungkooks hand distracting the shit out of you.

You : Hey, Babes. I'm sooooooo sorry but Junhkook lowkey making a move rn and I'm canceling on that date 😓 pls don't kill me. Atleast you can have a threesome tonight!!😟🕺🏾🕺🏾

After sending your informing but long text, Mya quickly responds the second you do.

Mya <3!! : I hate u😟 but have fun m'lady😓💕

You chuckle at the text, almost forgetting Jungkooks hand laying on your thigh.

Settling your phone down, you mumble an 'excuse me' to Jungkook as you stand up to get the Whiskey in the cabinet.

"Bring the cheap one!" Jungkook shouts from the living room. And from where you are, you can see him scrolling on his phone, a small smirk playing on his lips.

A mischievous like smirk. Probably looking through his next hookups text messages.

You ignore the feeling of jealousy in your heart. Shaking off the bitter feeling as you bend over to grab the Whiskey at the back. The furthest the cheapest.

You grab two Whiskey glasses and head over to the living room. Settling everything down, you swiftly lean back as your hair shadows your face and you do your best to move It away.

You both go through a whole hour of silence and making some small comments about the movie you're watching, while balling out on the Whiskey.

Never abruptly stopping with the Whiskey, you both end up finishing a whole bottle, and immediately after that, Jungkook gets up to get the second bottle.

This the 3rd hour. Second movie. More silence, yet so silently, little do you know what plays in Jungkooks mind.

"You didn't tell me you were into tattoos." Jungkook breaks the silence.

Taking a seat and handing him his glass of Whiskey after pouring what seems to both of your 10th glass you softly sigh. "Well I am. And how do you know this?" You question with furrowed brows.

"Your Instagram. And you've never expressed that love for my tats." He smirks.

"Y-you saw my insta?" You breathlessly ask. Feeling a wave of shock come over you. He was fucking Smirking at your Instagram.

He nods, "yeah. It's sexy."

That tickles your pussy. And feeling bold enough, you play along as you slowly take a sip of your Whiskey, finger seductively rubbing the rim of the glass.

"Oh yeah? How sexy?" You question.

Jungkook moves closer and grabs the glass from you, "the fact that it's you. That's sexy enough." He finishes, placing the whisky on the coffee table.

"Are you drunk?" You ask. Ignoring his comment.

"Takes more than that to make drunk. Why? You think I'll regret this?" He softly sighs ; moving closer to you, he grabs your waist and settles your body on his lap. Hands rubbing your waist.

Truth is, you do think he'll regret this. But you shake your head no. Maybe if he just fucked you, all the feelings would leave.

And you'd be free from the looped song that continues to play.

Lips hovering yours, you lean in closer, hands placed on his rigid shoulder.

Jungkook abruptly turns his head to the side, and your heart aches.

"Be honest. Did you think I'd regret this?"

You whisper an audible, "yes."

His lips encase yours for a long peck, that feels loving and reassuring.

"Trust me, I really have a thing for you. That typa shit that makes me wanna do what couples in New York do. Show everyone that you're mine and I'm yours. I have for the longest time."

You almost feel dizzy at his confession. Not because you refuse to believe it's real, you've wanted this to be real for the longest. It just now occurred to you that he felt the exact same way.

As your way of responding, your lips land on his for a sweet kiss that he leads. Really soft smacks of you both kissing resounding in the room.

You briefly pull away after a minute of kissing, "I like you, too." You shyly mumble.

Out of embarrassment, you bury your face in his chest and Jungkook chuckles above you and you know this because his chest rumbles.

"You're so cute." He whispers, fingers playing with your ear, and you smile up at him, meeting his smile as well. Drunken but he's not really that drunk.

Your eyes lazily shut and you cuddle closer into him.

"____," He starts and you pay him attention as you lean up. "Can I please be your boyfriend?" He asks. Hands holding yours like a delicate flower. Your favorites even.

You giggle and that makes his heart skips a beat. Who would've thought the sound of your laughs would make his heart smile so much.

"Yes, Jungkook. You can. I'd love that so much."

He smiles and it almost reaches his ear but you attack him with a kiss, sloppily making out with your Boyfriend, and his hands come up to caress your him, guiding you to grind on his prominent bulge.

"Argh- fuck, just like that." He props of your mouth, leaning to kiss up your neck as you grind on him with force, making yourself incredibly wet, that it soaks right through your floral lacey thong, soiling Jungkooks expensive Shorts.

You go about dry humping him. Hoping to cum that way.

The moans in the room.are synced and ragged and broken up as Jungkook grinds up into you, hoping to find his release as well.

You finally cum in your panties, head coming down onto Jungkooks shoulder as he shoots into his briefs, releasing as well.

"Oh, God." You muffle in his shoulder, feeling lightheaded from all the alcohol and energy put into humping.

Chuckling, "you Okay, sweetie?" Jungkook questions.

You would've answered simultaneously, but you're Slumped and deep into your sleep already.

Jungkook notices this when he tries to get a view of you above him.

"So pretty." He murmurs at your sleepikg figure,placing a loving peck on your forehead after moving his sweaty hair from his face and you're both loudly snoring after that.

In your mind, you're really glad that you were able to get rid of the looped song.

~♥︎~

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chunksworld · 2 years

Text

Sunflower

ARTMS Choerry x Male Reader | (Tags: Fluff, Smut) | girlfriend!Choerry

A/N 1: A sequel to Sunkissed. Thank you to @asmodeussoularium for the inspiration and ideas; thank you also to @kaedewrites for the beta read.

A/N 2: I miss Choerry so damn much. I hope she’s doing fine wherever she may be.

—————————

“Wake up, oppa!”

There’s no better sight to wake up to than your girlfriend peppering your face with kisses—something she loves doing. Especially when she’s wearing your shirt after a passionate night of lovemaking; it is so large on her that it basically covers her body right down to her inner thighs. And with the prettiest smile on her face, she looks absolutely ethereal. How did you get so lucky having a girlfriend like her? No time to ponder because as soon as you’re fully awake, she immediately starts to grind on you.

“C-Choerry wait, we have class in twenty min—“ No use in arguing with her because she’s already taken her shirt off. Unsurprisingly, she’s not wearing a bra underneath so her small and perky breasts are presented to you, along with her curves that never fails to amaze you. And in a flash your shorts have already been discarded as it joins the pile of clothes on the carpeted floor—revealing your morning wood already leaking with precum. What a way to start off your day; not that you’re complaining or anything. She gives you a wink and a bite of the rosy flesh that is her inviting lips, before proceeding to let out her signature infectious laugh. Your brain goes haywire once again, short-circuiting at the ethereal sight in front of you. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. If there’s anything you’ve learned in the four years you’ve known her, it’s that what Choi Yerim wants, Choi Yerim gets.

That damn physics class can wait. Who cares if your physics professor gets angry, he already hates the two of you anyways, even more so when you two became a couple. You dive in to capture her lips, the taste of her cherry chapstick lingering in your mouth. Like clockwork, you remember every nook and cranny as if it’s the back of your hand. “But I want you so bad, oppa.” A sultry whisper in your ears is enough to send you to overdrive as you proceed to take your shirt off. “Plus, you didn’t cum inside me last night so I’ll make sure you do this time.” A pout from the ball of sunshine currently straddling you—how can she look so cute yet so damn hot at the same time? It’s also not a surprise how she’s already drenched, juices dripping down her luscious thighs as her shorts are removed. “I hope you’ve still got some left.”

“Shit!” Along with a bunch of other curse words come out of your mouth as she impales herself on you. Despite having sex with her plenty of times, she’s still so amazingly tight which you are absolutely not going to complain about. Yerim is in an equal state of pleasure as she slowly begins to grind her hips, thighs rubbing with yours as she leans her head back. This presents you the perfect opportunity to leave marks all over her neck and collarbones, like an artist creating a masterpiece on a blank piece of canvas. You’ll make sure that she has a difficult time trying to hide it during the lecture.

“Hnnghhh. S-So deep in me, oppa…” Her moans go directly into your ears as you feel her nails claw at your back, adding to the scratch marks she left last night. She’s truly become an expert in riding you; wide and curvaceous hips gyrating in a way that renders you almost speechless during every session. But you don’t want your girlfriend to do all of the work so you begin thrusting upwards as well, causing Yerim to squeal as she wraps her arms around your neck tightly.

“I’m gonna fill you so fucking much, Yerimmie.” Her cheeks are set ablaze with the use of that nickname—she’s still not used to it despite six months of being called that by you. And that just made her subconsciously tighten around you, sending shockwaves through your body as you twitch inside her, more precum leaking out of your shaft. You’re drowning in your own pleasure that you don’t feel the first waves of squirt flowing down your crotch and thighs and eventually the sheets as well. The sun explodes into a supernova as she clings on to you tightly, her strong orgasm leaving her shaking and breathless in the aftermath.

She looks down at the mess she made and blushes furiously. “A-Ah sorry oppa….” You find it extremely adorable how she always apologizes even though you’re already used to it. “I-I’m just so horny today.” That in itself is very apparent, considering she woke you up wanting to ride your morning wood. Again, you’re not going to complain. An insatiable Yerim is a sight to behold and after she calms down from her high, her eyes brighten up like stars. “Now it’s time for you to fill me like you promised.”

“Of course, my sunshine.” You didn’t need to be told twice as you grab her by the waist and pick her up before placing her gently on the bed all while your length is sheathed deep inside her. She recognizes this position all too well and proceeds to wrap her legs around your waist but you had a different plan in mind. “Let’s try something.” She lifts a curious eyebrow as you lean forward and grab ahold of her legs, placing them on your shoulders as you effectively put her on a mating press. The position allows you to impale her even further and she lets out a moan so deep and seductive that you just wanted to pound her. And that’s exactly what you did.

No more words exchanged between the two of you as you worked hard to reach your own climax—which isn’t too difficult considering how much she’s gotten you worked up. Each slap of the skin echoes throughout your room, squelching sounds indicating just how wet she is as she continues to squirt all over your sheets. Guess you’re going to have to do laundry in the middle of the week. Your cock is throbbing much more than before and Yerim senses this which is why she grabs your face with both of her hands and pulls you in for a heated kiss.

The kiss is full of love and passion, what she can’t express through words is instead delivered through her actions. A grin from her as you pull away. “I love you so much, oppa.” She whispers in your ears and those three words are enough to push you to the edge and as you bury your face in her neck, you fill up her walls with your semen like she begged you to. You came so much that even as you pulled out, ribbons of your white substance landed on her tight stomach and her thighs.

You immediately crash right beside her as you try to catch your breath. You would indulge in some post-sex cuddle with her like you usually do but as she looks at the bedside clock, she painfully reminds you that you have a class to attend. That damn physics class. Maybe you should just drop out so you can spend more time with her.

“Oppa, it’s starting in three minutes!” —————————

“I’m gonna have to buy lots of concealer and foundation if you keep marking me, oppa.” Yerim pouts, intertwined hands as the human embodiment of sunshine meets its much larger counterpart ninety three million miles away.

Your automatic response whenever she pouts is to give her a kiss, which also allows you to taste her cherry lip balm. If you could kiss her every second of the day, you would. “And what’s wrong with that? Can’t I show everyone that you’re mine?”

She bites her lips, trying her absolute hardest not to squeal at your words. But her face has already betrayed her, cheeks reddening faster than the speed of light. “Really, oppa? Even if it means getting kicked out of physics?”

“I mean I don’t mind, I hate going to that class anyways.” You shrug, resulting in the pouty princess to give you a light punch on the arm.

“Hnnnghh don’t say that! It’s the only class we need before we graduate!” Right, one more class before you get thrusted into the hellfire that is job searching; thankfully you have her by your side.

“It’s so fucking exhausting though. I mean it took us forever to solve five problems yesterday.” Studying with Yerim is a double-edged sword. One on hand you get to spend more time with your girlfriend; on the other hand you get too distracted by her antics which includes randomly kissing you on the cheeks and leaning her head on your shoulder. But you absolutely do not mind; you’d rather go on dates with her than study, anyways. “Is this even all worth it?”

Her walking stops to a halt and she moves to stand in front of you, her unoccupied hand taking yours.“Just four more months, oppa! And then we can finally tour around the world like we planned.”

As always, Yerim is the positive one. Whenever things go sideways, she’s always there to reassure you that everything will work itself out. With her trademark optimism, it feels like you two can conquer anything. She’s a true sunshine princess and you’re her not-so-confident-in-himself oppa. Perhaps it’s this dynamic that’s allowed your relationship with her to thrive so well. No power struggle as to who’s in charge and whatnot. You are her protector and she is your everything. It’s clear that Yerim’s intense gravitational pull on you has only strengthened with time; your crush on her only growing from the moment of first encounter.

Her signature sunshine smile never fails to send you into overdrive. Forget the fact that other students are rushing trying to get to their lectures. It’s just you, Yerim, and the millions of constellations that make up the sky. Try as they may but they’ll never be able to outshine the glowing red, hot star currently occupying your heart.

“By touring you mean going to the UK so you can finally fulfill your dream of becoming a real-life wizard?”

“Don’t act like you don’t wanna go there too, oppa. Didn’t you almost buy tickets to watch a race when they came here?” Her love for Harry Potter can only be matched by your obsession with F1. Yes, that means making her wake up at an ungodly hour on Sunday mornings to watch the races while she makes you go on Harry Potter marathons with her.

“Fine, let’s just say that we both want to go there.”

“Deal. And after that, we could go to Spain! Or even Italy!”

Or perhaps into the unknown. Or maybe to the edge of the observable universe. Or maybe she drags you out of bed on a Saturday morning to go on a shopping date with her. Or maybe even just in the confines of your two bedroom apartment, hands and legs intertwined as she makes you watch yet another fantasy movie–with her eventually falling asleep in your arms as she dreams about her future with you. And it’s during those moments that you realize how much of your soul she encapsulates, how much she truly means to you–as your housemate, best friend, and girlfriend.

Your only regret is not meeting her much earlier in your twenty one years of existence because every second spent with her is filled with bliss and you want to spend the rest of your life with her. No need to ask her the same question because she more than confirms such a statement every day with you. Just imagine if you two were childhood friends—how much more in love would you be with each other?

“How about we travel back to Korea? We haven’t been back home in a while.”

“That’s also a good idea! Then we can finally go on a Han River date! I heard it’s the perfect spot for couples.” Right. Out of all the dates you two haven’t been on yet, that’s on the very top of her list. “We could have a picnic there too.”

And as always, doubt begins to fill your mind once again. “Do we even have enough money for the trip? We can barely pay the rent.”

“Don’t worry oppa, we’ll figure it out!” More reassurance from her, hands subtly squeezing yours. “Money won’t be a problem once we start working in Silicon Valley.”

“You’re saying that as if we’re definitely gonna get a job there.”

“There’s a reason why we’ve both gotten dean’s list every semester we’ve been here. We’ll do just fine!”

“But–” A kiss to make you shut up. Such a gesture is fine in the confines of your apartment but with seemingly the entire world watching, your heart is set ablaze. Like a skillful wizard she easily puts you under her spell.

“I believe in you! So you should do the same, okay?” God, you love her so fucking much. What good deed did you do in your past life to have such a perfect girlfriend as her? Perhaps the stars are rewarding you for doing an adequate job as her protector. But it’s not a job when it comes to Yerim. You do it because she is more precious to you than anything in this universe.

“Ha! Is oppa blushing?”

It’s extremely rare for Yerim to hit you with the uno reverse card but its effects are devastating. “W-What? No, I’m not.” Now you’re the one losing your composure. If there’s anyone that can send you into a frenzy with such ease, it’s her.

A celebratory dance, as if she just won an intense title-deciding race. “You so definitely are! Now I can get you back for all of your teasing.”

Ruffle her hair. “That doesn’t count, Yerimmie.”

Two Hufflepuffs battle it out for who truly deserves to belong in such a prestigious house. Stubborn vs. Stubborn. Sectumsempra vs Aveda Kedavra. Sun vs. Moon. “It sure does, oppa! Just like when we went on our first date.”

“The arcade date? When I won you that teddy bear?”

“Yes! And you were blushing so much when I hugged you tight.” How could you not when she loudly proclaimed how much she loved you in front of so many people? It’s like a scene straight out of a Korean drama, perhaps she was trying to play out such fantasies with you.

“You’re really not gonna let me forget about it, are you?”

“Of course not!” It’s evident with the polaroid selfie of you two taken on that day displayed on the back of her phone. Lips planted firmly on your cheeks while you were a mess still very much processing the fact that you just went on a date with your housemate.

Suddenly you are pulled into her warm embrace; its effects on you remain much the same as it did exactly one hundred eighty five days ago. An overflow of dopamine that sends you to cloud nine; fireworks; supernova; solar flares–a cosmic explosion only Choi Yerim is capable of.

“Didn’t you also make it your lockscreen, oppa?” Of course you did. That was the first thing you did as soon as you got home.

“Still is, actually.”

“Seeeeeeee?”

Just like every battle, the wizard from Bucheon prevails once again.

—————————

Like a sunflower, your relationship with Yerim quickly blossomed. It was almost natural, like your friendship with her was bound to turn into something romantic the moment your eyes first landed on her—not that you were already planning your future with her or anything at that very moment. You can still vividly remember when you announced to your friends that you were finally dating her; it seemed like they were even happier than you were. All you heard were ‘I knew it’ and ‘I told you so’ for an entire week and you just wanted to bury yourself in a hole.

It turns out they were right all along; Yerim was and still is hopelessly and deeply in love with you. What took them minutes of watching you two interact took you approximately three years. How did you not notice the fact that you were the only guy she interacted with? Or the fact that she always made sure to bake your favorite mango cake on your birthday? Or the fact that she cried like a baby when you sprained your ankle while playing basketball? Or the fact that she drunkenly confessed to you one time and you chose to ignore it?

But as they say, better late than never. And perhaps having known her for a long time already before dating gets rid of any possible awkwardness. Nothing changed between you two—except maybe that you can now freely kiss her on the lips and she can hug you anytime, anywhere. She’s also become much more clingy, not that you’re complaining or anything. So much so that she always sleeps in your room now, regardless of whether there is thunder or not. She always wants to be by your side.

“You have your own room, you know.”

That just makes her tighten her hug as she scoots even closer to your chest. “But I like it better here! Plus, I can cuddle oppa while I sleep.” Fortunately your bed is enough to barely fit the two of you or else she would be sleeping while straddling you. Not that either of you are going to complain.

“We always cuddle when we watch movies or F1 races though.” Or basically whenever there’s an opportunity, she’ll cuddle with you even during a party. Nothing can stop the sunshine princess from staying close to you. But it’s not like you won’t do the same; you want to be with her as much as she wants to be with you.

She gets off of you and proceeds to straddle your lap. “But that’s different!” Purple LED light strips she insisted that you put in your room makes her glow in a way that not even the Sun could. “Cuddling during movie time is very different from cuddling during bed time.”

“Whatever you say, Choerry.” You sit up and proceed to pepper her face with kisses. Giggles from your girlfriend as you secure your arms around her waist. She squeals as you pull her closer towards you, leaving no inch of space between the two of you. “We’ll cuddle the entire day if you want to.”

She smiles so bright that it makes your brain go completely haywire. That’s the perfect opportunity for her to sneak in a quick kiss. “Mwah. Now that’s more like it, oppa. I know you’re very clingy.” Brush the loose strands of hair on her face aside, allowing you to see more of her ethereal beauty.

“You literally used your legs to prevent me from getting up this morning and I’m the clingy one?” Another kiss on your lips. If that’s her way of shutting you up then you’ll gladly keep on teasing her.

“That’s because you woke up so early! I thought we were gonna go on a date or something.”

“You know what? That sounds like a good idea. Halloween’s coming up so maybe a haunted house date?”

“Hmph you’re so mean, oppa!”

You’ve never seen Yerim as terrified as when you took her to a haunted house after you two lost a bet—not even the fiercest thunderstorms could compare to how much she absolutely hated the experience. It’s funny considering how confident she was at the beginning too, claiming that “only kids” can get scared of such an attraction. Needless to say she spent most of the time screaming and holding on to you for dear life. By the end she was full-on crying and as always, it tore your heart to shreds seeing her like that.

“Nah I’m just kidding. We can go to the amusement park again, if you want.”

Bright, starry eyes immediately widen at the suggestion. “Yes please!” Without a moment of hesitation she’s already agreed to your plans. “We better ride the Ferris wheel this time, oppa. You can’t back out now that you’re my boyfriend!”

“And what does that have to do with anything?”

“Cuz you chickened out last time! All because the ride attendant told us we looked like a couple.”

“Well you were holding my hands the entire time.” Try to recreate that same scenario, except now there’s no hesitation to intertwine your hands with hers. “I don’t think friends do this, Choerry.” There’s no hesitation to peck her on the lips either.

“Because they make me feel comfy and secure!” Then again, it never truly felt like you two were just friends. Everything you and Yerim did was uncharacteristic of two people engaged in a strictly platonic relationship. But it was inevitable; as if her gravity was fated to pull you in with every “friendly” date and the not-so-subtle public displays of affection that came with them.

“Yeah. That’s why we looked hella sus the entire time.”

If her objective that day was to make your heart explode then she almost succeeded. Your smartwatch kept warning you of how extremely high your heart rate was despite being a physically fit twenty year old male. But how could you remain calm when she proceeded to act like you two were dating? Even more so when she gave you a kiss on the cheeks just as the fireworks were setting off at night. You were one millisecond away from confessing to her then.

“I guess that’s something we don’t have to worry about this time, oppa.”

Pinch her cheeks. “Absolutely not. I’ll proudly show everyone that you’re my girlfriend too.” Such simple words are enough to make her swoon and she melts in your arms like putty. Dark amber and ginger lily infiltrate your senses as she proclaims her love for you only in a way she can.

“I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you!” A kiss after every iteration; each one seemingly lasting longer than the previous.

“Are you trying to cast a spell on me or what?”

“Nope! I just wanna let you know how much I love you.” She doesn’t need to because she always shows it through her actions—much more so than with her words. But you’ll take any verbal reassurance from your girlfriend, especially since you didn’t even think you would hear those words coming out of her mouth months ago. Or that any of this would be happening. Housemates turned lovers; that you don’t see quite often. “I love you so much, oppa!”

“Well I love you 3000.”

Perhaps even more. More than the seemingly insurmountable odds it took for the Avengers to beat Thanos. More than the number of atoms that comprises the universe. Only if there was a way to truly convey it to her.

And maybe there is.

—————————

“Do you ever think about getting married, oppa?”

It’s truly amazing how she can drop bombshells on you so casually. As if she’s just telling you an interesting anecdote from the past week. It’s perfect timing too considering how you just shoved a spoonful of chocolate ice cream in your mouth as she uttered those words. Next thing you know, you’re coughing and struggling to swallow your favorite dessert.

“I-I’m sorry, oppa!” She immediately hands over a napkin as you try to clean up after yourself. “Didn’t know you would react like that.”

“Where the hell did that come from?”

“Cuz I’ve been thinking about it! Since we’ve been dating for quite some time now and everything.” A spoonful of her favorite cotton candy ice cream then a hum of satisfaction. “I just think it’d be really cute if we got married!”

Marriage. It’s not a surprise that Yerim is already thinking that far ahead into the future, it’s a plan that is even grander than any of the international escapades she wants you two to embark in. A life-altering decision that will permanently seal your fate with hers, one that ensures the sunshine will be by your side until the end of time. But it’s not like you weren’t thinking about the same thing either–flashes of her walking down the aisle in a wedding dress is your recurring dream.

Reach over for her left hand. “Guess we’re gonna have to replace that ring then.” The piece of jewelry wrapped around her left ring finger has never left its position ever since that fateful day nor has the position she took in your heart. “Think a diamond ring would look much better on you, Choerry.”

A vehement shaking of her head. “No need to spend more money on me, oppa! Just your presence is enough.” She always says that. You might as well give her a plastic toy ring and she will still treat it as if it’s the rarest material in existence. As long as it’s from you, she will cherish it with her entire life.

“I wanna treat you, though,”

“You can do that when we’re married!”

“But I don’t wanna wait.”

A moment of silence and you think you’ve finally won a battle against her. But then she utters the next eight words that completely stops your orbit. “I can’t wait to be your wife then, oppa.”

Mission control is out of reach yet again. This time the solar flare is much stronger than anything you’ve ever faced and you succumb immediately. You don’t even notice Yerim trying to catch your attention because you are trapped under the intense gravity of her statement. “Oppa? Are you okay?” Her words float away into space, your mind reduced to cosmic dust.

Choi Yerim; Choerry; Yerimmie; sunshine princess; sunflower; the cutest crybaby; the hottest ball of star; the best girl; your housemate; your girlfriend. You love her so much that it hurts; it hurts so good everytime she wakes you up with kisses, everytime she pulls you into a hug, everytime she tells you how much she loves you, everytime she whines when you don’t give her enough attention. It’s the little things that make you deeply and painfully lovestruck.

One kiss from her is all it takes to break your train of thought. “I got you again, oppa!” When she’s at her happiest, you’re at your happiest. The ultimate synchronization; the alignment of stars; the culmination of three years of friendship; six months of pure adrenaline rush; countless nights spent stargazing; countless movie nights; countless ice cream dates just like this one. The thought of spending the rest of your life with her is enough to melt you; and knowing that she feels the same way sets off fireworks in your fragile heart.

“I-It’s just cold, that’s why.”

“Hnnnghhhh why are you so stubborn, oppa.” A light tug on your arm. “You don’t have to act so tough around me, you know. I’ve known you for too long.” Three years but it feels like she knows you more than your parents. As if you’ve known her your entire life. Call it the red string of fate or just a connection far deeper than you anticipated when you first met her but if soulmates were truly a thing, then Choi Yerim can be described as such.

“Can’t just say that and expect me not to lose my shit, Yerimmie.”

“It was on purpose! You keep talking about how much you want to marry me in your sleep so I know I have to tease you.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah! You keep fanboying over me, oppa. Didn’t know you had that side.” Might as well dig a hole and bury yourself in it because there’s absolutely no escaping this. Your face reaches temperatures far hotter than the biggest star in the galaxy. But at least Yerim knows that you feel the same way about your future. You just wish she wouldn’t repeat the things you’ve apparently mentioned in your sleep. A revelation of your deepest desires; what your heart wishes you could explicitly say to her.

“Wanna make you the happiest girl.”

“I love you so bad.”

“Let’s move into a big house.”

“I wanna have kids with you.”

The grin on her face grows wider with each sentence but it’s not a teasing one; but rather one that shows gratitude for how much you truly appreciate her as your girlfriend and perhaps, future wife. A grin accompanied by the reddening of her cheeks. “How dare you not tell me that you want kids as well, oppa.”

“Cuz I don’t know if you want kids as well. Don’t wanna pressure you.”

“Should’ve asked me then! I just know our kids are gonna be cute!” That explains why she made you watch a video compilation of babies on YouTube one time. You brushed it off as her being the cutest sunshine but it all makes sense now. “Imagine we have twins, mini Choerry and Oppa!”

“You’re telling me I have to deal with another Choerry?”

“Hmph! So mean, oppa. I know you’re gonna love them as much as I do.”

“Hopefully they’re not as big of a crybaby as you are.”

“Yah!” —————————

“Hnnghhh this movie is so boring, oppa.”

The brightest pair of brown eyes looks up at you, flecks of dark brown hair scattered all over your chest as the glowing hot ball of star wraps her limbs around you. Another Friday movie night, another opportunity for her to cuddle you. Matching pajamas that she bought after your first month together is worn proudly. A set of purple cherry-patterned pajamas; truly fitting for the sunshine princess and her oppa.

“Weren’t you the one that picked this time?” Hands instinctively run through her hair as her favorite cherry shampoo infiltrates your senses yet again.

A pout from the sunflower; not even the darkness can prevent her from shimmering. “Yeah! But it looked so good from the trailer.”

“I told you we should’ve gone on a dinner date instead.” Intertwined hands like clockwork; if there was a way to permanently glue your hands to hers, she would take the offer in a heartbeat. “There’s this Italian restaurant that just opened up a block away.”

“I didn’t wanna dress up though.” An audible whine, that just makes you want to cuddle her even tighter. “Takes too much work to put on makeup and look nice for you.”

“We could pick another movie, if you want.”

She sits up on the couch and a familiar look spreads across her face. “I-I actually wanna do something else.”

“What is it? Oh-“

In a split second Yerim has sealed her lips with yours; her soft, succulent, and addicting lips driving you insane as usual. This is far from the cute and innocent kisses that she loves to imitate. You can already feel the heat she generates despite the air conditioner on full blast in the living room. Sit up from the couch and she immediately straddles your lap; stare into her eyes and you could immediately see her turn from ‘cute Choerry’ to ‘sexy Choerry’

“Let’s try a different position this time, oppa.”

It’s truly amazing how her entire aura can change like a flip of a switch. But you absolutely do not mind this side of her. Her gaze is intense as you pull away from the kiss, a string of saliva following the lip lock. You can already feel your cock hardening under her and you know she can feel it as well with the slight whimpers emitting out of her mouth. She reaches for the top button of her pajamas and begins unbuttoning it, following the same process for the rest.

You are much more impatient however as you just pull the obstruction over your head and throw it somewhere in the room. This allows you the perfect view just as she’s removing the last button. A bite of her lip and a wink as more of her flesh is revealed to you, then a laugh . She spreads the clothing open and begins the long and arduous process of taking it off of her flawless body.

“Choerry, fuck…..”

You’re probably drooling right now but you don’t care. From her shoulders that you just want to mark to the cleavage being covered by her white lingerie down to that tight stomach that you just want to paint; Choi Yerim is sculpted by the gods and you’re lucky that you can spend such intimate nights with her. Your impatience rears its ugly head once again and you reach for the hem of her pants but she rightfully stops you in your tracks.

“I’ll do it myself, oppa.” But how can you be patient when you’ve got the epitome of perfection stripping bare all just for you to see? In one swift move, the matching purple pants is pulled down her legs which exposes her meaty and luscious thighs; her white panties already drenched as always. If this was any other time you would have eaten her out already but you’re curious as to what she has planned. Though if she keeps looking at you with a lustful and insatiable gaze, you would gladly pound her on the couch right now.

You’re so focused on her that you don’t even realize that your pants have come off as well; only left in your boxers that’s pitching a tent and dripping with so much precum. The horny sunshine doesn’t waste anymore time and proceeds to strip off her undergarments, leading you to do the same. No foreplay tonight, she just wants you to fill her as much as possible; maybe give her the twins that she wants.

“F-Fuck me from behind, oppa…..” In the smallest and shyest voice as she turns around and gets on all fours; her juices are already starting to drip all over the couch and normally you would ask to move to the bedroom but her request sends you into overdrive even more. All sense of logic and reasoning has flown out of the window at this point.

“Are you sure?” It’s hard to think straight with her butt presented to you and your precum adding to the mess that she already made. It doesn’t help that her hips and waist look even better from behind, ready to receive your heavy load. Yerim only responds with a nod, cheeks flushed red as she feels more exposed in this new position. But she trusts you and slowly but carefully, you insert your length inside of her.

A silent groan from you as her suffocating warmth welcomes you once again, but this time from a different angle. Somehow, it feels better than just her riding you or you fucking her in missionary. The rest of her body is laid flat on the couch with only her hips raised up in a prone position, and soon enough she’s tightening around your length so tightly that you might just explode immediately. Her arms grab onto the edge of the couch as her moans are muffled as her face is buried on the couch. It’s becoming evident that she’s so close and you continue to pound her at a relentless pace.

You lean forward to place kisses on her neck and shoulder, your body pressing on top of hers as you slow down the pace to a grind. It’s more intimate than any other position you’ve tried with her and the sunshine princess might just send you into a cosmic explosion. She tries to look up at you but the pleasure is so immense that she can only announce her impending orgasm in a breathless whisper. “G-Gonna cum so much, oppa…” A few more thrusts before the dam breaks, her squirt flooding your couch as she moans your name much louder than before. Pull her into a deep and passionate kiss before the neighbors complain.

You don’t stop thrusting however as you are also very close to reaching your orgasm. With the remaining energy you have, you bring Yerim to an upright position with her back pressed against your chest. Wrap your arms around her stomach as you begin to increase the pace again, pounding her steadily. Watch the mess she’s made on your cock as your hands explore her body, wrapping your arms possessively around her tight stomach and rubbing it. Leave marks all over her neck and shoulders as her intoxicating scent drives you closer to your peak. “I’ll fill you up so fucking much, Choerry.” You can feel her get wetter and tighter due to your statement.

“Do it o-oppa, please! Let’s have plenty of kids together!”

“Fuck!” There was no way you were going to last any millisecond longer and with one final thrust, you spill everything you have been saving inside of her. Ribbons after ribbons of thick sperm filling her to the brim and spilling out of her–joining her squirt on the couch. Needy groans as weaker thrusts follow the more powerful ones; the last spurts of your semen joining the overflow inside of her.

She immediately crashes onto the couch and you do the same, not caring about the possibility of having to replace the piece of furniture you two are currently cuddling on; or the fact that the movie she put on is already halfway done. You pull out in time to witness more seeds spilling out of her and you try to leave the couch to grab a towel for her but she stops you and pulls you in to cuddle once again–the lack of clothing makes this cuddle session more intimate than usual.

“S-Stay here, oppa……..”

Thankfully, there’s a blanket laying around so you won’t have to freeze in the living room. Yerim spent so much energy that she’s already snoring as soon as you turn off the TV; place a kiss on her forehead as you make sure that she’s in a comfortable position. Instinctively, she buries her head into the crook of your neck–wanting you to be as physically close to her as possible.

Likewise, you always want to be with her. Though you may not be as expressive about it as she is, every second without Yerim is hell. Her stubborn oppa is just as needy and clingy, perhaps even more considering how you’re always thinking about going on more dates with her; marrying her; or buying a house with her; or having kids with her.

But knowing that she trusts you with all her heart is enough. That she chose to live with you despite not knowing you at all. That she chose to give you her outpouring love and care and cuteness. Are you even truly deserving of such a treatment? There’s only one way to show her just how grateful you are and it’s to marry her. To ensure that she feels loved every single day just as much as she shows her love to you. That the budding sunflower currently resting on your chest can keep that smile that sends your heart racing to the moon and back.

Four more months like she said and you can finally explore the world with her; make more memories and perhaps take that next step in your relationship. But as she falls asleep in your arms, you can’t help but think of one thing:

What if you want to marry her already?

#kpop smut #male reader #kpop fanfic #reader insert #smut #loona smut #choerry smut #choi yerim smut

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genericpuff · 7 months

Note

1) I absolutely freaking adore LO rekindled and it’s really inspiring me to finally work on my own damn comic n 2) I heard you mention flats before lineart. How does that work exactly??? I use lineart to let me fill in color quickly but I’m always down for trying new methods to learn!

Aww thank you so much! I've seen lots of comments like this since it started and I think it's great that it's getting more people to dive into making their own <3 <3

Also it's basically exactly what it sounds like, I put the colors down first before the lines! Sometimes I'll do lines first if there's a spot I'm struggling to figure out with just color, but I find most of the time doing color first helps me block out the shapes better than if I had started with lines. Here's an example with panels of Hermes from Ep 30, before he had all of the lines and rendering added !

This is basically what all of our panels look like at the start, just solid blocks of color that we shape out and then finalize with lineart and shading. I've found since using this method, it's helped me a lot because it works better with my brain. It also helps prevent the color from not filling in correctly as the line brushes we use are pretty textured so the fill bucket doesn't detect gaps quite as well as it does with my other pieces and comics that have smoother lineart. That said, if you try it and don't like it, don't sweat it ! Do whatever works for you :)

#ama #ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore rekindled #lore rekindled comic #lore rekindled ama

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basketballanonsblog · 2 months

Text

Enchanted is the longest thing I have written so far in the Jihyo x angel!reader AU, so I'm gonna split it in two.

TW ⚠️ : mentions of blood, violence, and d***h (including a minor)

Enchanted (Pt.1)

You were shoved against the wall, and while most people would be intimidated, the tall aggressor, you were astonished. He was looking for money, and you scoffed.

Man's greed for any slither of riches never failed to surprise you.

He pressed a blade to your throat in a further attempt to scare you, but you just smirked. It amused you to see the anger in his eyes.

What you weren't expecting was a glass bottle to impact the back of his head, rendering him unconscious. You frowned and crouched to make sure he was still breathing. Damn, you were just starting to have some fun.

"Are you alright?" Her voice was captivating.

"That was reckless."

"Excuse me?"

"He had a weapon, and could've hurt you. I had the situation under control."

"Didn't look like it to me." She mumbled.

"Are you going to keep your hood up the entire time, or is my rescuer's identity going to remain a secret?"

She revealed herself, and for a moment, time stood still. She was beautiful.

"The name's y/n."

"Jihyo."

After that, when time and duty would allow, you would see her. It was refreshing, spending time with someone who wasn't your sibling. You enjoyed the friendship you shared, but you weren't naive.

Within two years, you, an angel, were falling in love with a human.

~x~

Jihyo was being chased, falsely accused of stealing. She tripped, but you landed before her, wings out and all before she got caught.

You carried her to a secluded area, where she stumbled out of your arms in shock and fear.

"Jihyo, please." You implored. "Don't be afraid, I'm still me."

"Yes, but with wings and the capability to fly."

You explained the truth of what you were, which calmed her down. She promised that this wouldn't cause a rift, lifting the weight off your shoulders.

She took it surprisingly well, but you broke a fundamental rule, something that she would soon learn.

It was dark when she saw the shape of wings. She called out your name, thinking it was you. Jihyo tensed when someone else stepped out of the shadows.

The stranger stared at first before speaking.

"What makes you so special?

"I'm sorry?"

"My sister knows we shouldn't reveal our nature to mortals. Yet, not only did she tell you, she showed you her wings."

"Remiel, what are you doing here?" You rushed there once you learned your sister had gone to earth.

"Nothing significant, I was curious."

She vanished after that, and you held her close.

"Did she hurt you Jihyo?"

"No." A sigh of relief escaped.

"But she told me something."

"What?"

"She said you're not supposed to reveal what you are to humans."

"She's right."

"So why tell me?"

"Because you deserve the truth." She rested against your shoulder.

"I didn't realise I meant that much to you."

Don't say it.

"Why is your heart suddenly beating out of control?"

Don't say it.

"Y/n?"

Say it.

"Jihyo, I love you." She snapped her head up. All she found was sincerity in your eyes. This was the first time you had shown vulnerability.

How astonishing, she thought. That a powerful being would reciprocate her feelings when you could have anyone you wanted. There was so much she wanted to say, but she struggled to begin.

The only option was to kiss you. Both of you affirmed your love, over and over again, well into the hours of the night.

~x~

It had been a while since Jihyo ran away from you. Any time outside of work was spent sulking in bed; and you certainly hadn't slept well since. That was obvious, based on the dark circles under your eyes.

"Heard anything?"

"No, Lucifer. I'm giving her space like she wanted."

"Oh, c'mon. The y/n I know would be irrepressible. Have you been keeping up with what the group is doing?" He began typing on his phone.

Lucifer took the lack of response as a no. He went wide-eyed for a split second, making you frown.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"We both know you don't lie, so whatever you saw, just spit it out." He showed an article. The top picture wasn't super clear, but you recognised her car, and the title made you freeze.

'Is Park Jihyo dating Kang Daniel?'

You faced the wall, curling into yourself and hiding under the covers.

"Sis-"

"For once, Lucifer, would you please leave me alone."

He sighed with remorse, leaving you to your heartbreak.

~×~

"We're not dating. The article was exaggerating."

Her members kept asking her about the rumours every five minutes. It was tiring.

"Does y/n know that?"

"No."

"When was the last time you spoke to her?"

"Three months ago." A chorus of 'what?!' Made her flinch.

"Did you guys fight?" Sana asked.

"No, but it's complicated."

"But considering it's all over the internet, there's no way y/n hasn't heard about it."

Jihyo knew they were right, and that intensified the feeling of guilt.

"Just you?" She heard you murmur. "Like you aren't the reason my heart beats every day. As if I wouldn't move the heavens and earth for you."

If it wasn't for the situation, she would've asked if you meant what you whispered that night.

~x~

Damn it. Getting chocolate was a good idea at the time, but from the minutes you were in the store, the weather decided to do a 180. Of course, you didn't bring an umbrella.

Halfway home, you saw Jihyo. Sure, she was being discreet, but you would recognise that hoodie anywhere.

Her head turned, and your eyes locked.

"Jihyo!" He called out, and that was enough of a distraction, as she turned to him. You were gone when she looked your way again.

You sat on the roof of your apartment building. In your loneliness, the bitter rain became a friend; as always.

Finally, the tasks were completed. Cuddles with your girlfriend were your main source of motivation these days. It was usually Lucifer who would pester you, but today, it was someone else.

"Azrael? It's unusual to see you in this neck of the woods."

"Y/n, what's the name of your significant other?" Even the mention of her brought a smile to your face.

"Jihyo. Why?" The other angel's expression turned sombre.

"I'm sorry, y/n." It clicked after a second, and you got a chill down your spine.

"No. You stay away from her." You attempted to jump and stop them, but your sibling had already disappeared.

You travelled down to earth at breakneck speed, but it was too late. The knife had been pulled out.

"Jihyo!" Thunder and lightning danced along the sky, as you grabbed the man from behind, and threw him away. You'd deal with him later.

The blood wouldn't stop, regardless of what you did to lessen it.

"I'm here now, love. I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner. I'm going to get you help." You got ready to fly, but she weakly grasped your arm.

"I'm not going to make it, y/n."

"Don't say that. It's not too late." Your voice quivered, but she smiled at you.

"Shhh. It's okay, y/n. Our time together in this lifetime may have been cut short, but I know you'll find me again in the next."

Jihyo kissed you before wiping your tears as best she could.

"I love you, my angel."

"I love you."

She continued smiling as her eyes fluttered shut and she went limp.

"Jihyo?...Jihyo!"

Silence.

You desperately sobbed, gently rocking her body.

"No, please, please. Please. Don't leave me."

The heavens opened, and the rain was unforgiving. You kept her dry with your wings as a shield.

Azrael approached, and you trembled.

"Please, not yet. Spare me this moment before you take her soul away.

"I'm sorry, y/n." Never in a million years did they think you would be on the receiving end of the angel of death's task.

Four days later, you were kneeling in front of her grave. You couldn't bear to touch the cold stone. There was a harsh finality if you were to do that.

Your heart was unprepared for this hellish reality. You bowed until your head was touching the ground and sobbed ceaselessly.

"I am so sorry, my love."

~x~

Jeongyeon, Sana, Dahyun, and Lucifer observed you in concern.

Lucifer would never turn down the chance for drinks, and the three members were the only ones available to accompany you.

You were already tipsy when they arrived and showed no signs of slowing down. They forced you to stay put after your several attempts of going around the bar singing.

In other circumstances, they would let you run free, but they knew you were hurting. You told your brother, who in turn told the others what you saw.

"Maybe it's time to stop, y/n."

"Since when did my brother, the night club owner, become the alcohol police?"

"Drinking isn't going to help you forget about Jihyo." You clasped your hand over his mouth.

"Let me stop you right there, bro. If she's happy with him, then I am happy for her. I'm not gonna lie and say it doesn't hurt, but you know, years from now if they decide to marry and have a family of their own, then I'll still be happy for them."

The longer you spoke, the more your tone dampened.

Sana wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"Totally." Even as a blubbering mess, you kept drinking. Lucifer snatched the glass away, making you angry.

"Hey, that's mine!" You took a swing at him but failed. Instead, it sent you falling into the chair and table.

The four of them dragged you outside after apologising on your behalf. You quickly passed out against Dahyun on the way home.

Your brother sighed, glancing at you through the rear view mirror.

"I'm worried about her. For the past week, she's been doing this. It's not healthy."

You kept flickering into a frown. Even in sleep, you were troubled.

"My sister loves her." No surprise for anyone in the car. "It's my fault y/n is like this. My intention wasn't malicious, but I forced her hand into telling Jihyo something personal."

You whimpered, and the idol trio knew what they had to do.

"Then it's time to fix it."

~x~

"The three of you are back early. Did you get bored?"

"Not exactly, but there's someone for you."

Lucifer peered around the corner, and his presence made Jihyo nervous yet disappointed. She hoped it would be you.

"I need to talk to you."

"I can't."

"Please, even for a few minutes."

They sat in the park opposite their residence. It might have looked odd, a man dressed in a suit sitting on swings next to an idol.

"I'm not going to hurt you if that makes you feel any better. Not like I could anyway, y/n would kill me."

His attempt to lighten the mood wasn't well received.

"I'm sorry, Jihyo, for what you saw that day. I forced my sister to tell you something she wasn't ready to say. Now look what happened."

"Is she okay?" Concern spiked inside.

"No. She hasn't been herself for the past few months. When she's not at work, then she's hiding in her room or at the bar. As of late, alcohol has been her friend, and I'm afraid she'll end up hurting herself. She misses you. "

"I miss her too. It's just a lot to process."

"I understand. But just so you know, she cares about you deeply. Everything she does is all for you. Just consider it, she's working tomorrow."

He left her alone then, leaving Jihyo a lot to think about.

~x~

You were in the nursery, checking over the newborns. It was an aspect of your job that you loved.

You wanted to protect their innocent hearts, especially from the cruelty of the world.

"For the hundredth time, Lucifer, you shouldn't be here."

"How -"

"I'm your older sister. Of course I know." Plus the overwhelming scent of aftershave. "Seriously, brother, they're vulnerable. I don't want you potentially infecting any of them."

"I'll go in a minute, but I want to talk about last night."

"I've thought about it, Lucifer. If she's happy with someone else, then I'll let her go."

"What?!" He accidentally startled one of the babies, making them cry. You took them in your arms and gently rocked them back to sleep while glaring at him.

"Sorry. But seriously, are you going to give up just like that? After everything you did so, Jihyo would be brought back?"

You turned sullen.

"A second chance didn't necessarily mean another chance with me. I asked Father to bring her back, and he did. I won't be selfish "

"You're trying to be righteous again. This is anything but selfish. Listen to me, I have never seen anyone love another person, the way you love Jihyo. So please, y/n choose your happiness too."

"But -"

"No, look." He turned you around, and you saw her. She heard everything.

She ran to you once you were a few feet away. Holding her felt right, like you were home.

"The article. It's not true." She muttered.

"Y/n I lo-"

A commotion from the waiting area caught your attention. You ran there, only to see a man waving around a gun. Jihyo stood behind, clutching your arm.

"Do you trust me, Jihyo?"

"Most assuredly." You smiled.

"Don't be scared." You stepped out of her hold, approaching him. He was carrying an infant.

"I need a doctor. My son isn't breathing!" You sprung into action.

"Can you explain what happened?"

"He wouldn't stop crying, and I just wanted him to be quiet."

You tried to find a pulse, but there was none.

"How long has he been unresponsive?"

"Two hours." Damn it.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do. Your son has passed away." The man started crying, and your heart filled with pity. But that changed when you heard him mumbling about he didn't mean to press the pillow down so hard.

This was something you couldn't ignore.

You instructed Jihyo to call the police but he didn't like that.

"It was an accident!" He shouted.

"And due to the circumstances, I have an obligation to report it as what you have done is a crime."

"Then I'll bring her down with me." He pulled the trigger, with Jihyo being in the line of fire.

In your eyes, time slowed down. Before the bullets could reach their target, you jumped to shield her.

The excruciating pain made you collapse.

"Y/n!" Lucifer became furious. He easily crushed the gun, crimson eyes ablaze, frightening the man.

"Lucifer, she's hardly breathing!"

Your colleagues took you away and whisked you into the operating rooms.

The love of your life and brother could only look on helplessly.

Tbc...

#twice x reader #park jihyo x reader #jihyo x reader #twice fic

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assistantquail · 1 year

Text

Well damn... (Adults) 1/2

Male reader is left with no choice but to use a female avatar, not that he minds using it on the first place, to save their best friend's life.

Characters: Jake, Neytiri, Tsu'tey

Pronouns: They/Them

Warnings: Cursing, injury, mentions of blood, Jake is shot in every headcannon in this part (bc why not), kithes?, simps, everyone is bi >:3, gender is a social construct, idk a thing about injuries or fighting, ooc

The timelines are different per character;

Jake & Neytiri: After the RDA left

Tsu’tey: Before the big battle

(None of the ff images/gifs are mine)

Jake Sully

He didn't know what to do at first but this is definitely not doing any good for his chest... His heart and the bullet wound-

“I've been shot, I'll be needing some back up”

The man is applying pressure to his injury, leaning on to the tree as he issues orders for the spotters to return.

“Copy that, back up is on the way” Norm's voice can be heard from the earpiece as he hears a mellow voice in the background saying that someone is already on the move.

Since the humans retreated and Jake knew that this area is sort of close to where his comrades are located, he decided to ask for their help as he broke off from the Navi group before the battle.

Luckily the bullet missed his vital organs but it might’ve grazed through his veins, rendering his legs useless. Making him feel a bit panicked whether or not this is temporary, silently praying to Eywa for strength. He already lived through having crippled legs in his first life, will he experience the same now?

What if he can never use his legs again? What if-

“You idiot! This isn’t a minor injury!” A voice pulled him out of his thoughts, his eyes trailed to you in your avatar form. An unfamiliar Navi yet he feels like you look familiar. That eye shape, nose, lips, and 5 fingers...

“Who- wait, Y/N!?”

“No shit sherlock” You rolled your eyes while approaching him, taking the bag of materials off your shoulder. His mouth formed an ‘o’ and he can’t help but study your form. You glared at him when you saw that he was eyeing your chest, throwing bandages at his face.

“Eyes up here skxawng”

You placed your hand under his chin, forcing him to look up. Still speechless from seeing you, he just kept staring and you’re starting to feel bare in front of him.

He saw you hissed at him playfully, but that look on your face is hot-

To distract yourself, you started to inspect the wound, you brushed your fingers near the bullet hole.

At this moment, Jake doesn’t know what to feel. He thought that he has great self-control and he can manage his expressions whenever you’re near but this is an impossible task now.

Do not get him wrong, he loves you dearly in your human form with the size difference between you and him. But seeing your avatar, despite being a female, still has your prominent features that fit greatly to the Navi beauty standards.

When he felt your fingers under his chin, making him stare into your golden eyes, he wanted to melt into a puddle.

He wanted to say something but he is sure that his voice will betray him and make him seem unmanly which is the last thing he needs you to see.

However, when you touched him, his will power almost vanished completely. This is a huge foul! He’s getting overstimulated by a lot of things at once: your touch, gaze, heat radiating from you, and his heart.

This is all too much for the man. He was as silent and still as a rock, the whole time you were treating his injury. You can feel his intense gaze on you as you tried to brush it off before you do something.

You thought he’ll tease you throughout this encounter but you were met with serenity and it’s making you feel awkward. You would rather listen to Jake make fun of you or just listen to him say anything than this.

Is it that weird? Do you look unattractive? Is he disgusted?

Those thoughts are plaguing the back of your mind, you’ve always wanted to let him know about your avatar but you’ve never really thought it will happen today.

When Norm told you that Jake was shot and needed help, you went to your pod and took off, no questions asked. This man will be the death of you but living without him is just as bad.

The silence is slowly breaking your heart which made you work faster, so that you can get out of there and look for a hole to hide in.

Rather than suffer, you decided to talk instead.

“What happened o mighty Toruk Makto? I never thought that you will get injured this bad...”

You were met with silence so you just chuckled nervously, hoping that he doesn’t notice your struggle.

Not even want to see the expression on his face, you hurried to tie the bandage around the injured area and secure the wound to stop bleeding.

“You are free to go now, just do not use your leg too much for a couple of days” You picked up the scattered materials you’ve used and stuffed them in your bag, swinging it over your shoulder as you looked at everything else but him, “Well I’ll be out of your hair now, I don’t want to taint your eyes any longer”

You felt yourself wince at your words, internally face palming yourself while you walk away.

“Wait no” A familiar hand fell on your arm, immobilizing you from taking your escape.

Jake finally got himself together when he saw that you were walking away, his body reacted before his brain. He wants you to stay, he wants to tell you how beautiful you are, avatar or not.

“Sorry if I was being a skxawng, your beauty just caught me off guard that I almost couldn’t stop myself from taking you”

He stared at your face, engraving every detail in his face as he watches your eyes widen and cheeks turn purple. Which gives him a boost of confidence to caress your face in his hand.

“This isn’t how I wanted to confess but I’ll be damned if others want to start courting you”

“Oel ngati kameie Y/N”

Your lips trembled, seeing the man you’ve always wanted, look at you with such an expression.

“Oel ngati kameie Jake, I always have”

This would’ve been a heartfelt moment but Jake couldn’t help but smack your butt.

Extra:

“Cat got your tongue or is it just me?” This made you want to take back your confession and just unalive this man.

“Shut up or I’ll feed you to the direwolves”

Neytiri

Neytiri had never imagined Y/N as a Navi or a female one because they already look very attractive in their human form, but she would've kneeled and thank Eywa for being blessed by the view of it weren't for the current situation.

You shot up from your spot when you heard that Jake is injured and their coordinates are close to where you are doing research. There is no problem with heading into the battlefield, you're a skilled Navy and healer despite being younger than him. But there is this tiny problem that might hinder you from going...

Your avatar body, which was previously your sister's who sadly had to remain on earth to recuperate from her injuries. There is nothing wrong with its quality though! You love how everything looks because it resembles you a lot, but only a few people knew how your avatar looks like. Adding the fact, that your crush is certainly there as Jake's right hand woman, you are not sure how she will react to seeing you like this.

Internally groaning, your morals overpowered the embarrassment that will be bestowed upon you as you sadly see Jake as your family.

“I’m almost there, just hang on” You spoke to the walkie-talkie, doing a great job avoiding obstacles that are blocking your way as you pray to Eywa for guidance.

On the other side of the area, the idiot who got shot is currently being hidden as the other Navis are retreating

“Neytiri, your mouth is gonna catch some flies from how wide it is”

With you there, she held back from hissing towards and throwing this skxawng who still had the nerve to make fun of her while bleeding on the ground.

You gestured "I see you" to Neytiri with a smile before approaching your sworn brother. Trying to play this situation coolly as you don't want to embarrass yourself in the presence of the Navi princess, who you've been pining on for years since you did not use your avatar with anyone knowing but the scientists and Jake... Probably Tsu'tey too...

The woman just stared at your form, as you turn your back on her to check up on Jake. She didn’t even notice how she kept staring at you until Jake made fun of her which resulted to a smack on his head.

The moment you saw the injury, your personality did a switch becoming a professional medic drowning out the environment to focus on the man in front of you.

“Don't take this the wrong way, but I would prefer to get invited over on random times and not in every situation where you're close to dying from foolishness” Mutters fell from your lips, as you examined the severity of the injury. The bullet almost made an exit hole, which thankfully missed his vital organs.

A pair of golden eyes watched you from behind, curiously looking at all your features. She wonders why your waist seems to be smaller than hers despite being almost having the same height (slutty waist ya got there).

She went beside you, staring at the side of your face while you and Jake are bickering like children. Your freckles framed your face perfectly, highlighting the facial features that Neytiri adores whenever you stop by the clan, in your human form.

“That's not how you should talk to an injured person” Jake huffed, rolling his eyes at you. He then took note of how his right hand woman is still looking at you like you're the only person in Pandora.

A hand met the back of Jake's head rather roughly as the slap echoed around the area. “Hey, you don't hit an injured person!” He puts his hand on his chest, wearing a betrayed look on his face.

“Be glad that I don't hit women” Your shoulders tensed as you take a deep breath, pressing your fingers against your temple.

“I pray to Eywa for patience” Neytiri watched in silence, imagining what it would be like to hold your hand. Seeing you stressed by this skwawng made her want to hold you close, it is not the first time she thought of acting on her feelings.

“Don't you usually pray for strength?” Jake retorted like he wasn't the one bleeding on the floor, still focused on winning this silly argument.

“I need patience to not throw hands with an already injured skxawng”

The Navi princess felt jealous that Jake was being touched by your precious hands while she has never felt your skin on hers. All your attention was on him and she knows that her thoughts are childish, but she can’t help it.

When you turned to get some materials from your bag, you met face to face with Neytiri. You both are inches away from each other, her eyes glowed majestically in your perspective. You have never been this close to her, you became more aware with the freckles on her face.

Eyes trailing to her nose then lips. While you did not even notice that she was doing the same, Neytiri is drilling the memory of you into her heart, making sure not to forget any detail of how your eyes shine like the sun.

You both were staring at each other with so much love that Jake had to stop himself from gagging, do not get him wrong, he is your biggest shipper but he would rather not be forced to watch this.

“Can you guys undress and mate later? There’s a dying person here-”

Again, a slap met the back of his head but it was from Neytiri as you covered your face in embarrassment. Your throat let out some nervous chuckles as you finished wrapping the bandages, you can feel the heat gathering on your cheeks and ears.

But inside you were glad that she did not seem to treat you any differently, this was a huge step up for you. You can feel her eyes as you stood up. “Well um you are all better, now I will just bounce-”

“Y/N...”

That was all it took for you to give her all of your attention again, oh Eywa you are such a himbo.

“Can I meet you later at the entrance of the clan”

“Huh-?” Your brain filtered out whatever she just said, you were too busy trying not to melt under her gaze so you just nodded your head.

“Perfect, we shall have what you humans call as a date”

Tsu'tey

Jake nudged the Navi with an all knowing smirk creeping on his face. Just a moment ago, Tsu'tey was focused on keeping other dreamwalkers away from this skxawng who got shot but now he can't tear his eyes away from this one female dreamwalker who is running toward them. His instinct is telling him not to shoot but his chest somehow makes him feel like they are familiar with each other.

“Take a picture it will last longer- ow!”

The injured Navi held his shoulder that was punched aggressively to soothe the ache. Jake glared at his sworn brother while he got hissed back.

“Alright, I kind of deserved that”

When the female Navi nodded towards them, all of Tsu’tey’s attention is back on them, on you.

“Oel ngati kameie” You greeted them, facing Tsu’tey with a shy smile before turning your focus on Jake. Your tongue made a clicking noise as you examine the injury, the bullet runs deep but not that fatal if treated quickly.

The young Navi cannot help but feel envy as the injured skxawng gets to receive your attention, on the other hand he is using your moment of distraction to study your features.

Your avatar has the features of the female Navi, noticeable from your height and figure shape. Is this the reason why you disappeared for so long? Did you not want him to know?

He was not able to catch a glimpse of you for the whole week which is why he is “more grumpy than usual” in Jake's words which he wholeheartedly denied.

“Hey there gorgeous, where have you been the whole time?” Jake grins at you wearing the playboy smirk, making you roll your eyes at him.

You gagged at his attempt to tease you in front of your crush. “I think I just threw up, please spare me”. After giving him a short examination, you placed your hand on the ground beside you.

The bag full of medicinal herbs, bandages, etc is something you bring along everywhere for emergencies. That’s one of the things Tsu’tey loves about you, always looking after others before yourself. It is a double-edged sword, no doubt, but that is where he comes in.

He always makes sure to take care of you and remind you to take a break. You are well aware that he shows his affection through actions and acts of service rather than vocalizing his thoughts.

The two of you sort of have an ambiguous relationship? You gift him some crafts you make whenever you stop by every other day for research, the whole clan welcomes you with open arms since you aided Grace with her school before the whole fiasco happened.

You are well aware that the corporate people have some things hidden in their sleeves, you have seen glimpses and whispers of their plan but you have no power to put a stop on it.

So you are glad that they accepted Jake into their clan, not really but you suspect he is close. You and Tsu’tey were able to amend your friendship with each other in your human form, hopefully developing something more, but deep inside you know very well that Navis only mate with Navis. Plus you are a man! You cannot give birth to an heir...

A human can never be with a Navi, especially if the Navi is next in line as Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya clan. The man also lost his future mate because of your kind, for Eywa’s sake!

Without you knowing, Tsu’tey has already thought of those. He actually prayed to Eywa for guidance, if what he is feeling is just temporary because he does not know how to deal with these type of things.

He is a warrior, who lost his fated mate almost a year ago. He loved her, they were supposed to be together forever...

It seems that Eywa have other plans for him because he met you.

As your body worked like a robot, familiar with what needs to be done with muscle memory, you placed your hand down without looking. But you felt that you touched something warm, your head quickly turns to Tsu’tey.

His hand was holding the bandages you were about to retrieve, you made eye contact with him for a few seconds before realizing that you were still holding his hand.

“Thank you- and sorry about that!” You squeaked as you took the bandages from him.

“There is no need for that, this is such a simple thing” His voice was lower than usual, is it because you have not heard him for so long? But it sent you feeling some shivers down your spine.

You flashed him a smile, showing your fangs and it nearly took him out. So he just looked at you as you turned your attention back on your best friend.

Jake watched this painful love show playing in front of him, he cringed at how awkward you both were acting.

Tsu’tey stayed silent again, he was thinking of what to say to you. Should he compliment you? Ask how you are doing?

At first it is because, of how you took his breath away from your form. You have always been an attractive human but now that you are in Navi form, his willpower almost became nonexistent.

He wanted to take you away and make you be worry free but he knows that this is not the right time. He does not know when that time will be, where both of you can finally let go of what is stopping you from being together.

For now, he can be satisfied with how things are, he just does know until when he can keep it all together. With your avatar, he will make sure that no man dares to covet you...

Extra:

Tsu’tey hands you a necklace after bringing Jake back to the Hometree, this is the first gift you have received from him and you could not stop smiling. He offered to put it on you, which you just nodded at him.

Feeling his fingers brush on your neck, you let out a laugh because you are ticklish. Your body reacted by holding his hand to stop him from tickling you and your hand fits perfectly in his.

Next Part: Tonowari, Ronal, and Quaritch (Male reader)

I will also be uploading another version with Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri, Tsireya, Aonung, and Roxto. Tell me what you guys think as I need constructive criticism QvQ.

Female reader version

#avatar #avatar: twow #avatar: the way of water #jake sully #neytiri #tsutey #avatar x reader #avatar x male reader #jake x reader #neytiri x reader #tsu'tey x reader #headcannons #idk what im doing #I need more tsu'tey material #avatar 2022 #avatar 2009 #atwow x reader #tsu'tey #I should be doing homework but no

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