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sissylittlefeather · 1 month

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Time for another Elvis movie character story!

Spinout: a Mike McCoy Story

A/N: So I lowkey love Mike McCoy from Spinout. Like, he might be my favorite Mike. He's definitely the one I watch the most! He's such a little shit, but he's so cute I'll allow it. Still, he needed to be brought down a peg, so please enjoy this unorthodox fic 😂

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, lots of sex in this one, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, ejaculation, also they drink alcohol in a couple of scenes

Word count: ~5.8k (I know; it's long. But I think it's worth it)

(There are NO GIFS of Mike McCoy, which is criminal. I'll make a few and come back)

After he married off the three women that had insisted on marrying him, Mike McCoy went back to his life of singing, racing, and hooking up with any woman who was willing.

You start as his new drummer not long afterwards and it takes you about five minutes to realize what he's like. You are less than impressed, to say the least. Still, he's cute enough, so you flirt with him on stage when he comes back to play one of your drums. He winks, and you smile despite yourself, but you're not sold on him yet. Once the show is over, he comes to you, fighting off the crowd of women that's gathered around him.

"That was some show, kid."

"Oh, thanks." You start to pack up your drum kit.

"No, I'm serious. You're great. Would you like to-"

"No, thank you Mike." He blinks, confused.

"You don't even know what I was gonna ask."

"I feel like I do and I'm saying no."

"Okay." He looks at you funny and then goes back to the crowd of women.

The one thing that's changed since you came around is you demand that the group stay in motels instead of camping. He agrees only because it makes it easier for him to bring home girls.

You load up the car with the guys and then head back to your rooms. Mike has a girl in the front seat, so you squeeze in between Larry and Curly in the backseat of the Duesenberg. She giggles obnoxiously as you ride to the motel and you roll your eyes. Mike really is insufferable.

Back at the motel, you have your own room, but you share a wall with Mike. Needless to say, the girl he brought home didn't get any quieter once they reached the room. You put a pillow over your head and try to drown out the sounds. You know whats happening; you don't need sound effects.

When morning rolls around, the guys come to your room to eat the breakfast you've thrown together on the skillet you travel with. This was one of the stipulations to joining the band: you have to feed them. Mike shows up without the girl, thankfully. He smiles at you glowingly.

"You like tired, y/n. Couldn't sleep?"

"Was a little difficult with all that noise."

"Oh, I'm sorry honey, were we too loud?"

"Please don't call me honey. And yes." You go to walk away but realize you're in a small room and there's nowhere to go, so you head out the door to get some fresh air. You're out by the car when he catches up with you.

"What do you want, Mike?"

"I really am sorry, honey- I mean kid. I didn't mean to bother ya."

"Mhmm." You nod unconvincingly.

"Listen, why don't you let me take you out tonight after the show? Make it up to you?"

"You really don't need to do that."

"No, but I want to." You look up at him and do a quick appraisal. He's not really your type- too pretty- but he's not bad. His eyes are kind and his smile is sweet. You'd really like to see what he looks like without his hair fixed. And you haven't gotten laid in months. At least this way you wouldn't have to listen to him with anyone else.

"Oh, alright. Just one drink, though."

"Okay. I can work with that." You give him a half smile and head back into the motel room.

******

That night, after the show, you find yourself three drinks deep with Mike McCoy and you're having more fun than you expected. He's only had two drinks, but you go ahead and order a fourth one. Once you finish it, you lean over on his shoulder and intertwine your fingers with his. He looks down at you with the strangest expression on his face. But you don't care. He's warm and strong and he smells good and you're in the mood. When he decides it's time to go home, you grab the front of his jacket and pull his lips to yours. He backs away slowly, same strange expression on his face. He shakes his head a bit and then kisses you again quickly. You put your arms around his neck and slide your tongue into his mouth and he pulls back suddenly.

"Yeah, we need to leave."

"Whatever you say, Mikey." He hurries you out to the car, where he puts his hands on your hips and pulls you in for another deep kiss.

"I'm sorry, honey, I just didn't want to kiss ya like that in the bar." He kisses you again. You let him keep kissing you, he's not a half-bad kisser, so you hope it's a hint at things to come. Finally, he ushers you into the car and you drive back to the motel with your head on his shoulder and your hand in his lap. You can feel his erection through his pants, so you begin to stroke him gently. He grunts.

"Honey, you better be careful. You're gonna have to finish what you start."

"Oh, I plan to." He groans and kisses you again before turning back to the road.

When you get to the motel, he swings into a parking space and practically drags you out of the car and to his room. He gets the key in the door and the door open all without taking his lips off of yours. It's clear he does this a lot and you start to get excited that this might be a pretty good night.

He walks you backwards into the room and pulls your dress up and over your head in one move. You get off all four of his layers on top, though it does take longer than you expected. Once you're in nothing but panties and he has on his slacks, hardness straining against the crotch, he lays you down on the bed. He kisses your neck down to your nipple where he nibbles on one and teases the other with his fingers.

"Ow!" He pinches you just a little too hard.

"Oh god, I'm sorry. Did that hurt?"

"Yeah, it's okay though, just keep going." He keeps moving down your body, dropping hot kisses on your skin as he goes. When he reaches the place between your thighs, you lay back ready to enjoy the pleasure he's about to bring you. But after a few seconds you sit up on your elbows and look down at him. Based on the way he's moving his mouth on you, you'd guess this is the first time he's ever done this. You know that can't be right, though. Still, he's moving all wrong in all the wrong places. You're not quite sure how it's possible the be this wrong about what he's doing.

You let him do his thing, hoping that at some point he'll get to the right spot, but he never does. After way too long, he pulls back and says,

"Cum for me baby." And you'd love to. You really really would, but it's just not there and you're not the kind of girl that fakes it.

"Umm... I can't." He looks up at you confused and exhausted.

"What?"

"I said I can't."

"Oh..." He sits up and wipes his face with his hand. "Too much to drink?"

"Sureee..." You'll let that be the excuse. He seems to be okay with giving up and climbs up your body to line his cock up with your entrance. He's got a beautiful dick, so you hope that this part will be good, at least. But once he pushes into you, you lose hope for that possibility.

He's a jackhammer, and not a graceful one. He pounds into you relentlessly, but somehow also not passionately? He soldiers on, seemingly unaware of how bad he is and you let him, just waiting for it to be over.

"Is that good, baby?" He whispers as he slams into you over and over again.

"Mmm" you give him a half-hearted moan.

"Yeah, it's so good." He grunts and pulls out quickly to pump his cock and squirt his seed all over your stomach. Somehow, he doesn't even do that part right and it gets all over everything.

He rolls over onto his back next to you and you lay there wondering how on earth this is possible. The girl he was with last night sure sounded like she enjoyed it. Maybe it was a fluke? You're not sure you want to try it again though.

"Was that good for you, honey? Did you...?" Again, you're not one to lie to him, but you don't want to hurt his feelings. Still, there's really no other way to say it.

"No, not really." You say it quietly and he sits up, stunned.

"What?" You sit up too and try to ignore the fact that he hasn't cleaned you off yet.

"Well, do you want me to lie?"

"Maybe..." He runs his hand through his hair, legitimately puzzled.

"Can I get a towel or something?"

"Oh, sure." He gets out of the bed and gets a towel from the bathroom. "You want me to...?"

"No, you've done enough, thanks." You take the towel and use it to clean yourself off.

"Why didn't you say anything while we were... y'know... during...?"

"I don't know. How do you tell someone in the middle of sex 'hey, you're bad at this'?" You get out of bed and begin to put your clothes back on.

"That's fair."

"Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow, Mike."

"Hey, can we not... tell the guys?"

"Sure. Goodnight." He walks towards you like he's going to kiss you, but you open the door and walk out, back to your own room.

******

The next few shows you play together are painfully awkward. He tries to flirt with you on stage like normal, but you pretty much ignore him. You're still not sure what to make of the weird sexual experience you had together. Part of you wants to give him an opportunity to redeem himself, but most of you is okay with letting it go. About a week after your encounter, Mike comes to you when the show is done.

"Hey, honey, are you mad at me?" You smile at him awkwardly.

"No, I'm not mad. Why?"

"You just haven't talked to me in a week."

"Oh, well, y'know..."

"Is this because of-" He mouths the next part silently. "...the sex?"

You sigh and put your hands on your hips.

"You want me to lie?"

"It is. Will you give me a chance to try again? Maybe with no alcohol this time." You seriously doubt that'll help.

"Mike, I really don't think it's a good idea."

"Why not?" He pouts and it's admittedly very cute.

"Mike...."

"Come on, please? Just one more chance. I'll make it worth your while." He steps close to you and looks down into your face. His eyes are mesmerizing.

"Um... " He leans in close and kisses you gently. Maybe you could give him one more try. When he pulls back, he smiles.

"Let me take you to dinner tonight."

"Okay. We can try this again." He kisses you on the cheek and then goes back to packing the car.

******

After dinner, you find yourself back in Mike's hotel room naked with him again. He lays next to you on the bed sweating and breathing heavily.

"That had to be better." You look at him and grimace. To his credit, he did try to add several position changes, but that just seemed to throw off his momentum and make it even more awkward. "You're kidding me."

"I'm sorry..."

"What the hell am I doing wrong?!" You look at him skeptically. You're not even sure where to begin.

"Oh, Mike, I'm sure it's just me." It's not you, but you're willing to accept the blame if it means he'll leave you alone.

"No. There's a reason girls don't sleep with me more than once. I always told myself it was because I didn't want to get attached, but they don't usually try again." He almost sounds like he's on the verge of tears. "You gotta help me."

"Mike, no..." He turns and looks at you.

"Please?"

"How would I even do that?"

"Teach me." You roll your eyes and look away from him.

"No."

"You're really gonna just let me go back out into the world like this?" You laugh and turn back to him. "You're doing a disservice to all of womankind, really."

"Maybe you could just keep it in your pants."

"Oh no, honey, you know that's not an option." He rolls onto his side to face you and runs his fingertips down your cheek. "Come on, it'll be fun. You can boss me around all you want."

"That is tempting." You roll over and look at him. He seems so genuinely desperate. "Okay, listen, I'll think about it."

He smiles and for the first time you notice how attractive he really is.

"Thank you, honey."

"I haven't said yes, yet."

"Well, thank you for even considering it." He has the strangest desire to ask you to stay in his room overnight. Thats totally not his style at all. He hasn't slept in a bed with a woman in years. Something about you is different, though. He's noticed it since the beginning, but it just gets stronger the more he's around you. Like he doesn't get tired of you and want you to leave.

You get up out of the bed and start to get dressed again. He watches you quietly. Once you're put back together you turn back to him.

"Goodnight, Mike."

"Goodnight, y/n. And thank you... for your honesty."

"Of course." You walk through the door and pull it closed behind you.

******

Two nights later, you play another show at another bar. Afterwards, you expect Mike to either do his normal hunting routine or try to come talk to you, but he doesn't do either. Instead, he sits at a table alone with a drink and looks at the crowd of people around him. You watch him stare down at his drink and then take a big swig. He looks so pitiful just sitting there by himself. Part of you wonders if this is an act for your benefit, but he seems to really be feeling down. When a girl walks up to him and starts flirting with him, you realize he's not acting. She's pretty, but he barely even smiles or looks up at her. His confidence is shot and it's your fault. The girl finally shrugs her shoulders and walks away. You make your way over to him.

"Alright, fine." He looks up at you nervously.

"Fine, what?" You roll your eyes impatiently.

"Fine, I'll teach you." He stands up and smiles a little.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Come on. Let's go." You hold your hand out to him and he takes it quickly, following your lead to the car. When you get there, you realize how excited he is and you hesitate.

"Mike, I'm not making any guarantees here. I'm not an expert."

"No, but you're obviously better than me. I'll take any kind of help I can get." You nod and he leans down and kisses you. He wraps himself around your waist and you put your arms on his shoulders. Suddenly, he stops and pulls away. "Wait. Am I bad at this part too?"

"No, surprisingly you're a pretty good kisser. So I know you have it in you. Somewhere."

"Oh, gee, thanks."

"Listen, if we're going to do this, you're going to have to be okay with me being totally honest with you." He straightens up and nods.

"Yes ma'am. I'm here to learn." You laugh a little and get in the car with him to drive to the motel.

******

"Okay, where do we start?" He asks almost as soon as the door to his room is closed. He's obviously eager. You think for a second about how to begin. You've never had to teach someone how to have sex before, so you're not exactly sure what to do. Then, you launch into a monologue about how every woman's body is different and just because you teach him yours doesn't mean he won't have to learn again with a new girl.

"Ah ha. That's where we start. You need to know how to read if you're on the right track."

"That seems like a lot of work, honey."

"You wanna get better or not?"

"Yes. Okay. So how do I know?"

"Well women will respond to certain things when they feel good."

"They usually do moan and say 'yes' and stuff." He offers. You purse your lips. These women are not helping.

"You know that's really easy to fake, right?" His mouth pops open. He had genuinely never considered that a girl might be faking pleasure with him.

"Noooo, I know what an orgasm sounds like." You roll your eyes and then start to moan. You gasp and cry out and moan even louder. You close your eyes and throw your head back, running your hand up your chest.

"Yes, yes, oh Mike, yes!" Then you stop suddenly and raise your eyebrows. When you finish your dramatic presentation he stands there with his mouth hanging open.

"Okay. Point taken." You sit down on the bed and he sits next to you. "So how do I know if it's real or not?"

"Look for body cues. Arching her back, grabbing the sheets, curling or flexing her toes. Also like, gritted teeth, faster heart rate and breathing. Sweating. It's hard to fake sweating."

"And if she does those things I should keep doing what I'm doing."

"Yes. Keep it steady, especially with your mouth. Like change it up a bit but if she doesn't respond then go back to what you were doing before." He nods.

"Okay. This is good. What else?"

"I'm not sure. You know what, just try to start and I'll stop you as we go." You gesture with your hands for him to touch you. He looks at you funny again and stays where he is next to you on the bed. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I just got really nervous all of a sudden." He smiles awkwardly.

"We've already done this twice before."

"I know but I just... I know it'll be bad..." He looks down at his lap.

"Hey! Look at me." You put your finger under his chin and tip his face up to look at you. "You're trying to get better. That's good. You could just keep going only worrying about your own pleasure, but you're not. Give yourself some credit."

The way you talk to him fills him with a kind of warmth he's never experienced before. He has the urge to kiss you, but not because he wants to have sex with you. He wants to kiss you because he wants to feel connected to you. Gently, he reaches out and puts his hand on your cheek, leaning in to press his lips against yours.

The kiss is more tender than anything you've experience with him thus far and it makes your stomach flip flop. He parts your lips and dips his tongue into your mouth passionately. The intensity continues to increase as your mouths move against each other and, without thinking, you climb onto his lap and straddle him. He runs his hands up under your shirt and pulls it up over your head. He kisses down your neck and for a second you forget that you're supposed to be giving him lessons. But then he takes your bra off and grabs your breasts aggressively.

"Okay... stop." He pulls back and looks at you breathlessly.

"What?"

"You're grabbing my boobs like they're trying to get away from you. Slow down. Touch me to feel me. Think about the sensation in your fingertips." You take his hands and put them back on your breasts. He looks down at them and squeezes softly. Then, he carefully runs his thumb over your nipple.

"What about my tongue?"

"What about it?"

"Can I focus on that sensation too? Like this?" Leaning forward, he gently licks your nipple until it hardens and you moan softly. He ghosts his lips across to your other breast and gives it the same attention, running his thumb over the other one to keep it hard. Your breath quickens and you run your fingers in the back of his hair. He drags his tongue up your chest to your neck and nibbles on your earlobe.

"There. Was that better?" He whispers in your ear and you nod with your eyes closed.

"Yeah, don't stop." He smiles and moves his hands to your back, kissing the supple skin of your breasts. You grind your hips against him and he groans.

"What happens now?"

"Now you flip me onto my back and use your mouth."

"Yes ma'am." He stands up with you wrapped around him, turns, and then lays you on the bed. He continues the pattern of gentle kisses down your body to the top of your pants. You arch your back and moan again.

"Ha! You arched your back!" He sits up and his eyes sparkle with pride. Something about that really tickles you and you erupt in a cascade of giggles. He frowns. "What? You did! I'm paying attention."

"No, you're doing great. You're just really cute. But don't stop." He smiles again and kisses the place between your bellybutton and the button on your pants.

"Can I?"

"Yes please." He unbuttons your pants and pulls them down and off. Next, he slides your panties down and tosses them to the side. He goes to move his mouth down to your center, but you stop him.

"Okay, now, here, give me your hand." You use your finger to guide his to where your clit is.

"Oh!"

"You feel that? That's where you want to focus your attention. Like this." You show him how to move his finger over and around it and whimper with the pleasure. You move your hand away and he presses down a little too hard.

"No! Gentle pressure." He adjusts to be softer and a small moan escapes your lips. "Yeah, like that. Now, give me your hand again."

He stops what he's doing and you take his middle finger and press it into you.

"I haven't done this since high school."

"Oh lord." You laugh. "You should do it pretty much every time." He moves it in and out by himself and then adds a second finger.

"Like that, honey?"

"Mhmmm." He notices that your breathing picks up again. "Now put your mouth on me where you had your finger a minute ago."

He leans forward and presses his tongue to your clit.

"Oh fuck..." You moan and you feel him smile. He begins to move his tongue the way he had moved his finger over and around you and you grab the sheets and whimper. "Yes, Mike, just like that."

Your hips buck into his mouth and he pumps his fingers in and out as he licks you in a consistent pattern with more fervor. You feel the pressure of your orgasm start to build.

"Mmm mmmm don't stop." You whisper through gritted teeth. He does a tickling motion with his fingers and you groan loudly. He feels your walls flutter and he pulls back.

"Are you close?"

"Yes! Don't stop!" You put your hand in his hair and push his face back to your center. He smirks at your neediness and then goes back to licking you with a new determination. He feels your sensitive bud as it hardens in his mouth and your walls flutter around his fingers again. Finally, the coil of your orgasm snaps and your release spills out of you onto his hand as you shudder and pulse around his fingers. You feel the pleasure rush through you in waves that crest and fall as it crashes out to your fingertips.

"Mike, yes! Fuck!" You squirm under him as he continues to lick you. You run your fingers through the front of his hair and push him off of you. He sits up excitedly.

"Did I do it?! Did you cum?"

"Yeah! Can't you tell?"

"Well, after seeing and feeling that I don't think I've ever successfully done it before now. But I did it!"

"Aw, baby." You sit up and hold his face in your hands. He's unbearably sweet in his excitement. You pull him to you and kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. He rips his jacket off and you tear at the rest of his clothes until he's as naked as you are. You line his perfect cock up with your entrance, but he hesitates.

"I don't want to do it wrong."

"Think of everything you've learned so far. Be gentle. Go slow. Feel the sensations instead of just driving towards an orgasm. And watch my body for cues." He nods and slowly starts to push into you. You moan as he fills you up and you stretch around him. He starts to pump in and out of you.

"Hmm." He makes a strange face again.

"What?"

"This feels so much better."

"Imagine that." You both smile and he kisses you again.

"Does it always have to be this slow?"

"No. You can go faster and really give it to me, but it needs to be because you're feeling the passion, not just because you're trying to rush through it."

"So, if I do this..." He holds one of your hips with his hand and picks up speed, slamming into you with increasing intensity.

"Yes. God, yes that's good." You grab him and kiss him deeply again and the passion builds between you. Both of you begin to sweat and he watches as your breasts bounce with his thrusts.

"Do you wanna get on top, maybe?"

"Yes." You push him backwards and he sits with his back against the headboard. You put one knee on either side of his hips and he grabs yours and lowers you onto his cock. You bounce on him and his hands go to your breasts again.

"God, honey, that's so good." You grind against him, pushing him deeper and deeper while he kisses your shoulder.

"You like that, baby?" You ask, moaning softly. Again, you forget you're supposed to be giving him lessons.

"I do. Is it good for you?" He asks as he runs his hand through your hair.

"Yes." He smiles.

"I'm gonna cum soon, honey."

"Okay. So when you do, try to direct it to one spot on my body."

"Yes ma'am. Where do you want it?" You pull off and lay with your stomach on the bed. He smiles and climbs on top of you, finding your entrance from behind. He starts with long, deep strokes as he kisses your back. After a few seconds, he picks up speed and reaches around you to gently squeeze your breast again as he continues to press his lips to your shoulder.

"I'm gonna cum. Oh, fuck!" He pulls out quickly and pumps his cock as he directs his release onto your lower back. "Yes, y/n, god, yes!"

He rolls over onto his back, his chest glistening with sweat. Without prompting, he jumps out of bed and grabs a towel to clean you up. He's still breathing heavily when he lays back down next to you and you roll over onto your side next to him. You put your hand on his chest and he grabs it and kisses your fingers.

"Was that any better?"

"That was much better."

"Yes!" He does a fist pump. You roll out of bed and start to gather your clothes. "You wanna stay?"

He's not sure where that came from or why he said it. All he knows is that something about you makes him feel relaxed in a way he never has before. He wants more of that feeling.

"Oh, umm, no thanks. I'll see you in the morning?" His smile falls a little bit.

"Yeah, sure." He gets up and puts his pants on to walk you to the door. When you get there, he pulls you to him and kisses you deeply one last time.

"Goodnight, Mike."

"You too, honey." He closes the door and then stands with his back against it. Why do you make him feel this way?

******

Even the guys notice that things between you and Mike have improved. You laugh and flirt and the next few shows you play have a better energy than they have in weeks.

What they don't know is you're giving Mike sex lessons every couple nights and have been for the last two weeks. He proves to be a pretty good student and he tries hard to implement what he's learned. Sometimes his attempts fail miserably, but you both just laugh and keep moving. He revels in the freedom he has with you to try and fail and still wind up in your arms again a few nights later. He's never really had a relationship before, so he's blindsided by the way he feels when you tell him you have a date and can't come to his room that night.

"But, honey, I thought we had a date?"

"Did you...? Do you..? Mike do you think we're dating?" He blushes a deep pink and goes back to packing up your drum kit, which he has started doing recently.

"No, I just..." His disappointment is palpable.

"Do you want me to cancel it?" You're not sure why you said that. You have no reason to actually date Mike McCoy.

"No! No, it's fine. I'm fine. Have fun." He finishes packing up and goes to get a drink. There's a weird feeling of guilt or sadness or something that settles in your stomach.

Mike decides it might be time to test out what you've taught him, so he goes to the bar and starts chatting up several different girls. He's not feeling particularly drawn to any of them, though, and he starts to really wish you were there. Still, by the end of the night, he's narrowed it down to a sweet little thing with blonde curls and big blue eyes.

Back at the room, she kisses him and he tries to remember everything you've taught him. He imagines your voice telling him to be gentle and go slow and really feel the woman he's touching. Eventually he opens his eyes and he sees you instead of the girl he's actually with. Suddenly, it gets easier to remember your lessons. He reads her body for cues and adjusts as necessary, just like you said, but he still can't get the image of you out of his head. She makes all the right noises and he can tell that her orgasm is authentic. But what should've made him glow with pride really just disappointed him that it's not you he's doing this with. He shakes his head to try to refocus and goes back to what he's doing. But when he cums, he has to work very hard not to moan your name.

He rolls onto his back, sweating and she laughs.

"That was incredible." He pops his head up.

"Really? You're not just sayin' that?"

"No. That was amazing." She rolls onto his chest. "I could stay. We could have round two in the morning?"

He's never had a girl volunteer to stay and have sex with him again. Something about what you taught him worked. He knows he should say yes, but he just can't. The only woman he wants in his bed is you. So, he does something he's never done before and says no to sex with a pretty girl, sending her on her way confused and disappointed.

He hopes your date was really bad.

******

The next morning, you do a morning walk of shame and the guys are already in your room waiting for breakfast. Mike looks at you, tries to say something but can't, and then looks away quickly. The other two laugh and make jokes about you showing up in clothes from the night before. You're surprised when Mike doesn't join them.

"Shut up, guys." Honestly, he's tired of thinking about you with another man, but he knows that can't be his excuse. "Y'know, just... leave her alone."

The rest of breakfast goes by in awkward silence.

As you go to leave the motel and travel to your next destination, Mike grabs you and pulls you aside.

"How was your date?"

"Oh it was gr-"

"Never mind. I really don't want to know. My night was terrible."

"Oh? What happened?"

"I brought a girl home."

"Ohhh and you forgot everything I taught you?" He purses his lips.

"No. I remembered everything. It was great. She wanted to stay and do it again."

"I'm confused." You shake your head, puzzled. Mike looks like he might explode if he doesn't open his mouth and say something, but he also stays quiet. He shifts from one foot to the other nervously. "Mike, just-"

"She wasn't you." Your mouth pops open.

"She wasn't me?"

"No. The whole time I just kept thinkin'... I just wanted you." You're not quite sure what to do with this information.

"Mike..."

"I think I want..." He looks up at the sky and sighs deeply. "I think I want to, y'know, be with you."

"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"Yeah. Or my wife. Someday. I don't know I just know that I want you. For a long time. And I don't want anyone else to have you. Ever." You stand there staring at him in shock. Did he really just say wife?

"I thought you didn't want to get married."

"Yeah, I know, but then I met you. And I need you with me, so I think that means we should get married, right?" You laugh a little. He really might be the cutest man you've ever encountered.

"I think it means we should try being in a relationship first. And maybe that'll lead to marriage."

"Are you saying yes?" You think long and hard about your answer. But you'd be lying if you said you weren't thinking about Mike the whole time you were with your date. There's just something about him. You imagine walking down the aisle to him at the end of it in a tuxedo. There are worse things.

"I'm saying yes... to the girlfriend part! We'll see about the marriage."

"Really, honey?" He's practically giddy with excitement.

"Yes." He picks you up by the waist and spins you around. Then he sets you down and kisses you deeply. When you pull back, you look up at him and smirk. "You need more practice anyway."

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @60svintage @deltafalax @aliypop @rjmartin11 @your-nanas-house @tacozebra051 @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @from-memphis-with-love

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #Mike McCoy #spinout #elvis movie characters #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis

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the-ninja-legacy-whip · 6 months

Note

trick or treat!

Trick or Treat! Fic Edition!

For being so supportive (and invested ghfgfdfd), you can have a small WIP-snippet from Book 3 too! Eat up! :3

“Lloyd,” Kai starts with an a warning cough. Lloyd cuts him off more bitterly than intended. “What?!” Kai recoils at the harsh tone, with Cole, Jay, and Zane also balking in surprise. Nya shoos them all away and approaches Lloyd with a little less intensity…yet still being direct about the elephant in the room. “You…don’t have to do this, Lloyd,” Nya says, following Lloyd as he insistently gathers up his things for school. “We can’t—we can’t force you into a situation where you’re treated like that. We know we made a big deal out of it, but we didn’t know—didn’t realize—“ “It’s fine.” Lloyd grabs his stacks of extra homework he finished up and shovels them into his bag. “You guys couldn’t have predicted that this is what would happen. But I already told you, I don’t wanna be away from you guys. Even if I did stay at the warehouse, I can’t train alone, and what else am I supposed to do all day by myself?” “He makes a compelling case,” Cole acknowledges, despite being nudged by Jay. Nya bites her lip. “But Lloyd, you don’t deserve to be treated so bad for what your father’s doing—" “But what about the stuff I did?” Lloyd shoots back. “I did unleash the Serpentine. I did unleash Pythor. I did…unleash the Great Devourer…” Lloyd hisses, staring down at the scar on his right hand. He clenches it into a fist before pulling on his gloves to hide the mark. What he can’t see can’t hurt him. “…and all that led to the city getting destroyed, and people getting hurt or worse, and…maybe this is what I deserve. Maybe it’s just a small way to make up for all those mistakes.”

#:'3 #ninjago #the lego ninjago movie #tlnm #legacyverse #the ninja legacy whip #lloyd garmadon #book 3 #fic tag #fics of mine #works of mine #trick or treats #goddd you people dunno how excited i am

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inthemytdl · 5 months

Text

Camping

Summary: Mickey and the gang go camping

“Are you sure there aren’t any bears out here?”

“There are no bears in New Jersey, Mickey.” Ema was snappier than usual, a result of their mindless wandering out in the outskirts of New Jersey.

Spoon shone a flashlight in her face. “Actually, there are quite a few black bears in New Jersey. It’s a relatively small amount and they aren’t dangerous unless you provoke them.”

Ema slapped the flashlight away. “Point that at me again and I’ll get you before any bear does."

"But then you'll have one less person to help if a bear attacks."

“Does anyone have any idea where we are?” Mickey interrupted.

They had lost their campsite at sundown when Spoon convinced them to visit a pond a few miles away and had been searching for it ever since.

It must've been well past six now, as the skys were pitch black, and Mickey was starting to get angsty. He had never been afraid of the darkness but he had also never experienced darkness quite like this. A complete emptiness. The ambiguity of what surronded him and what it could do. He was relieved to have Spoon and Ema along but wasn’t sure if they'd keep him sane or if their bickering would drive him to insanity.

Spoon crouched, digging into the ragged canvas.

“What are you doing?” Ema snapped.

“I left a trail of jelly beans to track our path but I think something ate them,” he said.

Mickey trailed away from the group. He clicked away the Low Battery signal on his phone and shone his flashlight around. “Hey, guys, I’ve seen this tree stump before. We passed it on our way to camp when we first got here.”

They must’ve not heard him because Spoon and Ema continued their bickering, the sound almost as loud as the chirping cicadas.

“Why would you use jelly beans!” Ema shouted.

“I didn’t exactly think they were an approved animal diet!”

“You idiot! I’ll show you an approved diet—“

Mickey stepped between them, holding his arms out to keep them at bay. It took more force to hold Ema back than expected. The adrenaline from her anger must have upped her strength ten times.

“Guys. Camp. I think it’s over there.”

Spoon stepped back, looking in the direction Mickey pointed.

“Do you hear that?” he said.

The three of them quieted down. And low and behold, between the hum of cicadas was the roar of whales coming from Spoon’s noise machine.

“Follow me!” he said.

Ema slapped Mickey’s arm away and followed behind.

“Why do you even need a noise machine? We’re in the woods. There’s noise everywhere.”

Spoon shrugged. “It helps me sleep better."

When Mickey caught up to them and was back at camp he wanted nothing more than to climb into his tent and fall asleep. Ema was quick to enter her own tent. She zipped it shut without a word.

“Night, Ema!” Spoon yelled before looking at his own unbuilt ten.

Mickey was the only one of them with experience camping. He knew the proper way to build a tent and where to set up camp. He knew how to start a fire and could tell good firewood from bad. Ema quickly catched on, building her tent almost as fast as him, and aquiring a hefty amount of firewood. Spoon, on the other hand, did not. His tent laid on the ground in a sad pile of poles and tarp, next to the twigs he collected for smores.

Mickey sighed. “Do you want to stay in my tent?”

“Yes, please.” Spoon gathered his noise machine and rushed inside.

Mickey followed behind and zipped the tent. He was too tired to register the whistle of whales as he fell asleep.

———

a/n: writing shelter fics to fill the void of shelter season 2

#harlan coben's shelter #shelter on prime #shelter fics #mickey bolitar #mickey bolitar fics #mickey bolitar blurbs #ashley kent #ashley kent fics #spoon spindell #rachel caldwell #ema winslow #troy taylor

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doctorhelena · 1 year

Text

Steggy Fic: Until Then (We'll Have to Muddle Through, Somehow)

This is my very belated @steggyfanevents Steggy Secret Santa 2022 gift for @imxthexhandler (although, this year I am not technically late because I also made (unrelated) fanart!)

The story is complete, and a new chapter will be posted every Wednesday.

Story summary: Five times Peggy and Steve carved out small moments of happiness, and one time they didn’t have to.

Chapter summary: In which there is an apology that goes even better than Steve had hoped.

Rating: R

Read it on A03

Excerpt:

London, December 1943

“Well, you’re brave, I’ll give you that,” Howard Stark told him, both amused and a little impressed, judging by his voice and the quirk of his mustache. “But it might have been less risky to parachute solo into Krausberg, pal. I can get you the stockings, but even if you bring your new shield with you, I can’t guarantee you’ll deliver them alive.”

“She isn't going to kill me,” Steve said in what he was starting to think of as his Captain America voice - a tone that often radiated considerably more conviction than he actually felt. Now that he actually was a captain, using his stage voice seemed to give people the impression that he knew what he was doing. It was undeniably useful, but - it was also at least partly how he'd gotten into this mess in the first place. “I’m too useful to the war effort.”

Howard guffawed at that. “Look, kid, I’ve made a lot of women angry in my day, and my first piece of advice is whatever you say to her, definitely don't lead with that.” He shook his head, turning slightly more serious. “And my second piece of advice is - why bother trying so hard to fix things with her? Just be glad she’s forgiven you enough to work with you without trying to shoot you.” He shrugged easily. “There are plenty of fish in the sea, and you, my friend, are prime bait. Peggy’s a bombshell, there's no denying that, but there are a hell of a lot of pretty girls who it’s a hell of a lot safer to try to kiss. And look at you. Handsome mug, supersoldier muscles, and a hero to boot - the dames must be all over you.”

"Yeah, that’s the trouble,” Steve said glumly. “Well, that, and you and your sudden craving for fondue.” He buried his face in his hands. “God, I can’t believe I accused her of fonduing with you.” It was awful on two levels - the worst, of course, was the accusation itself, but spectacularly misunderstanding the meaning of the word fondue was right up there too.

Howard laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “Oh, you have got it bad, pal.” He nodded thoughtfully. “All right, if you’re going to do this, you’re going to have to go big. My usual weapon of choice is diamonds - necklace for apology, bracelet for ‘it's over’, earrings for - well, it doesn't matter. Now, I stay far away from the rings, myself, but - ”

“I think I’ll just stick with the stockings, thanks,” said Steve firmly. “How much?” The Army not only fed and housed him, it paid him too, and from what he’d gathered from Bucky and the guys, he was pretty sure he could cover a pair of stockings from his savings, even at black market prices.

Howard waved his hand. “For you, kid, they’re on the house. Let me talk to my butler. How long are you in London?”

Steve blinked. Of course Howard Stark had a butler. Steve had never even seen a butler, unless you counted on the silver screen at Sunday matinees. “We ship out Tuesday,” he said. “But - if you could get them a bit earlier, I’d like to - ”

Howard smirked at him. “All right, pal, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” said Steve, sincerely. He was planning to apologize one way or another, but he felt better bringing a peace offering when he did.

Howard grinned. “I like your spirit, kid. And, I’ve seen the way Peg can’t keep her eyes off you. You just might have a chance of coming out of this alive.”

Read the rest on A03

#fanfic #steggy #my fic #steggysecretsanta #peggy carter #steve rogers #imxthexhandler

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questioned-quetzalcoatl · 2 years

Text

Call me Satan, Darling. Part 8

Rating: T

Parings: New Zealand/Tonga (Hetalia)

Characters: New Zealand, Tonga, Denmark, Philippines, Lithuania, Estonia

Variation: Demon/Human AU

Summary: When Kainga, an exchange student from Tonga, travels to New Zealand for his studies, he expects all to go well. It does. All except getting hit by a car by Satan himself, who also happens to be his seductive roommate. Kainga finds himself slowly falling for the devil after his declaration of love. Because nothing truly says ‘I love you’ more than being run off the road by a rusty old Ute.

AN: So, second to last chapter. It's been a hell (lmao) of a ride writing this but the first fic in this series is nearing a close. Two more characters added here, probably the last ones as I don't want it to get overwhelming for myself and readers uwu;;

I want to thank you all for sticking by with me and my sporadic updates, the support matters to me no matter how big or small it is. Now, expect the unexpected (ノ・∀・)ノ

Tolys - Lithuania Eduard - Estoina

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad!

Contents: [Chapter 1]

[Chapter 2]

[Chapter 3]

[Chapter 4]

[Chapter 5]

[Chapter 6]

[Chapter 7]

[Chapter 8]

[Chapter 9]

"I came as soon as I got your message. How is he?"

Densen stood at the doorway, leaning forward slightly while blocking the entrance with either hand on each side of the doorframe. Like he was protecting something inside his house. Piri was standing in front of him, Densen being the only thing stopping him from entering.

"Do...you want me to answer that honestly?"

"Well yes, but from the tone of your voice it doesn't sound too good."

Densen lowered his head not even making eye contact with Piri. He let out a deepened sigh, from that alone Piri knew things had gone south since he'd received that text from Densen that morning. In reality, he didn't know what he was expecting from the situation as a whole. Neither of them knew what had happened.

"Look, he just showed up this morning. Poor guy could hardly talk through sobbing. He sounded like he was in pain, what was causing it I couldn't tell. It was too dark and I was half asleep letting him in. From what I gathered, he just needed a place to stay. Somewhere that wasn't his own apartment. It's all very odd."

"Well he came to your house, completely away from our apartment block. If it was his apartment in particular he would've come to mine. Something must've spooked him really bad."

"Do you think someone broke in? Maybe attacked him? Auckland city isn't exactly the safest place on Earth." Densen spoke quietly.

Piri just shook his head. "I don't know. It's best we don't assume either. Is he stable enough to talk to? We can ask him what happened."

Densen stood to the side of the doorframe, letting the Filipino pass him before closing the door. The sound of the door locking behind him by Densen only made the atmosphere more unnerving.

"Where is he?"

"Passed out on the couch, under all the blankets and pillows. I let him crash there, but I suggest he moves before my mum comes home. She'd go nuts if there was some guy asleep on her sofa. It's expensive Danish furniture too."

Piri looked at Densen before slowly approaching the lump under the blankets on Densen's couch. There was shuffling from below it, evident of life. That was one less thing Piri had to worry about. Both that he was alive and awake, having not suffocated under the weighted blanket on top of him. Piri sat down on the end of the couch, two feet that stuck out from the end of the blanket soon retreating back inside of it.

"Kainga?"

No response could be heard from the Tongan under the blankets. Just silence. Not even a strain of words like he was trying to even speak to them from the weightiness both with his situation. Of course, he'd fallen in love with Satan. James had known from the beginning he’d have to kill himself, at least from the beginning of them having their thing, whatever that was. What did you even call it? Dating Satan could never be referred to as just ‘dating Satan’ and the more he thought about it, the more his life sounded like a young adult fiction.

In all honesty, he thought about leaving. Leaving it all behind, James, the stink of the City of Sails, his education and this godforsaken country.

In all honesty, he was way too tempted with the idea that James gave to him but now it wasn't for James. Killing himself, for himself. The thought of having to deal with James with the rest of his afterlife stopped him dead in his tracks however, because like fuck he was going to Heaven. He'd fucked Satan, whatever God there was out there would most likely strike him down than be of any assistance to him.

The more he even thought about it, the worse it became. That's when he started to shift and move from under the blankets with the sheer congested shame it gave him.

"Kainga are you okay?"

Piri found himself repeating, what else was he supposed to say? He didn't know about anything the Tongan had been through. Even why he'd chosen to come to Densen's house of all places. He was there to comfort him, be a shoulder to cry on like a good friend would be.

Kainga finally revealed himself, his eyes red and puffy against the mess of curly brown hair. Looking like he'd just woken up with his eyes adjusting to the Filipino in front of him. His head poked out from the blanket, finally letting his gaze settle on Piri who was sat smiling gently at him from the other end of the couch.

"Piri?"

He finds it hard to explain everything to them. Even in the retelling it hurts him to say anything about it, think about it was painful enough. He did what he could, despite the incoherencies during his occasional breakdowns and saddened pauses. Taking this opportunity to take it all in himself. What James had said, what he did. The scorch marks on his door, the wound on his arm that had hesitantly scabbed over most of it. Tears gently falling off his rosy cheeks, every tear clinging to his eyelashes and all he could do was look down at his hands.

Piri and Densen both listened to what he had to say. About what happened. What James had done to him, they couldn't help feel angry. This time, Kainga did nothing to defend him. He just couldn't, unable to even decipher how he felt about him now. His hands shook as they held comfortably in each other.

Piri was furious.

"I knew he was bad news. I knew it! Now look what that bastard's done to Kainga!"

"Piri come on now, try to stay calm. Kainga's already shaken up enough."

"How do you expect me to stay calm?! I knew as soon as I saw him he was a fucking snake! He's hurt him don't you see?!"

Kainga could only look up at the two. He hated feeling helpless, nervously gripping at the edges of his mug. Filled with Densen's recipe of Danish coffee to wake him up fully. What had he done, what had he gotten himself into? His arm still burned, festering like dying embers on his flesh.

"I'm thinking of going home." He said rather suddenly, it was hasty. He didn't really know where he was going with this, one thing he knew was that he missed his home. Tonga. Maybe that was it, just being homesick. Piri and Densen soon stopped, staring right at him again. There was a short silence, mainly at the suddenness of Kainga's words. How unexpected it was.

"Home? You mean, home home? Like back to Tonga?" Piri finally asked.

Kainga just nodded, still looking down and away from the both of them. Nuku'alofa was his home, Tonga's capital and biggest city. It wasn't even really a city, more of a Port. The main international airport was stationed just outside the capital at the town of Fua'amotu. Where he had taken off from before he arrived here, where he'd hugged and waved his parents goodbye. He just missed it even more now by thinking about it.

What would they think? His parents. It didn't help that is father was a raging Christian. He often helped out at the local churches and Tonga certainly had plenty of those. All the missionaries he'd meet when they arrived to 'The Friendly Islands'. Kainga always snorted a little at that nickname for his country. While it was true, Tonga was known for its gentle and peaceful nature, Kainga never exactly fit the bill.

If his father ever found out about his own child 'dating' Satan himself, he'd suffer something probably worse than death. He'd be at the mercy of his ill-tempted religious father.

“You’re cutting it a bit close aren’t you? The new semester starts in 3 weeks, Kai." Densen lowered his voice.

“I know, I should be back end of next week, I’m just a little homesick. It's not like I'm going across the world, it's only about a 2 hour flight from here to Nuku'alofa.”

Kainga ignored the worried look from the Dane's paler face. Focusing his attention down on his phone as he searches for direct flights, only to find it now out of battery. Ironic.

If he had not been so miserable, he would've laughed.

---

He still can't decide anything for himself. He felt empty, a shamed void of a man. Temptations of everything, death and escaping all washing over him as he remained indecisive on his situation. How could be possibly miss him now and somehow even more than before. Perhaps because now he knew he was gone, probably for good.

It was all his fault too.

He really couldn't help putting the blame onto himself. He was a fool, an idiot to trust him. He couldn't just kill himself now. No, not that, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do that and he went and did it, with Satan of all people, anyway, the anger he felt towards himself finally coming undone and exploding as it mixed in with the mess of emotions he was feeling with an almighty scream as he blurted out what he’d been so reluctant to admit these past few months.

"I FELL IN LOVE WITH SATAN AND WE BOTH FUCKED IT UP AND NOW HE ISN'T COMING BACK. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?! YOU GIANT, HOLY SHIT!!!" He screams at the ceiling, glaring at it bitterly before slumping into his seat, sore throat and fighting back the new wave of tears the Tongan felt coming.

He was truly pathetic.

A pathetic mess who missed a man who tried to kill him. More than once too. Inwardly fighting with himself with such pain as he clawed at the sides of his body. Curse him, curse this body now plagued and sinful. He wanted it gone, destroyed without any trace left because he knew that it didn't even belong to him anymore. Ever since that night with James. When he touched him like he did, he way he wrapped himself around his mind and heart like a snake. When he kissed him in places even Kainga forgot he had, was it all just a lie? Blinded by what he thought was love, now blinded by tears.

He cried, he couldn't seem to stop. His blue sweater sleeves now damp from the constant wiping of tears that spilled from his eyes. A shame, he loved this sweater. Whenever he wore it he felt such inner comfort. It was a beautiful cobalt color, he'd bought the next size up by accident so it draped off his body ever so slightly. The sleeves would hang off his hands, leaving only his fingers to poke out of the sleeve holes. Made of soft merino wool with small woven sheep embroidered onto it in a pattern across the sweater.

Sighing heavily, he pulled his laptop off the coffee table and onto his lap. His eyes begin to dry up at last. The new term was starting soon, his first year of university; he had enough time to go home right? A couple of weeks at best, come back the week before term started. Maybe the change of scenery would help him, being at home back in Nuku'alofa, or as far away from Auckland as he possibly could be. Going home to see his family again, surely they didn't have to know of everything that had happened. If they asked, the Satan part could possibly be reworked and reworded. Although it'd further convince his mother firmly who already had a strong disliking for the people of New Zealand. She always said how rude and wild they were, too loud and rowdy for her liking. Saying he got his heart broken by one and he wouldn't hear the end of it from her.

For now he just had to stop thinking about James and think about Tonga. He looked down at his laptop, brushing his fingers over the singed edges from the fire in the library. Yet another thing to remind him of James.

Letting out a scream of frustration, Kainga picked the laptop up as if to throw it across the room out of anger but he decides that's something he just couldn't risk. Taking in a heavy breath he placed the computer back onto his lap. He turned it on as he calmed himself down, watching as it loaded back up.

His home screen was a picture of his dog back home, a Jack Russel Terrier called Rex. He'd been Kainga's best friend ever since he'd got the puppy for his 12th birthday. They'd practically grown up together and he loved his feisty little companion more than anything. It didn't take a genius to figure out how they got along so well. He thought about his mother, who'd try and convince him to stay in Tonga with them. It was only now he realized how much he really missed them.

With that, he started searching for the next available flights to Nuku'alofa he could afford.

Kainga wanted to die or go home, whatever came first.

---

When one thinks of Hell, it's usually all the same.

Matthew, weeping and wailing. The gnashing of teeth and unescapable darkness as ones sinful enough rotted in the eternal fire and punishment. The absence of God's presence, the floor becoming alight with more of the damned. A fiery lake of burning Sulphur.

“Serpents, brood of vipers! How can you escape the condemnation of Hell?”

Luke, flames and excruciating torment. A place of great pain, the worst kind of Hell is the one unique to the one who questions it.

"And in hell He lift up his eyes, being in torments. For I am tormented in this flame."

There is a place of fiery torment called Hell, where unsaved sinners will suffer punishment for all their sins forever. Fire like eyes and gaunt faces, screams of pain and anguish as all they can do is plead. An almost blinding fire as gnarled hands clawed at legs, dragging you down as starved hands pulled at clothes, hair and arms, nails ripping skin and cloth alike before teeth joined in the fray.

Some even think Hell would be spending an eternity ruled by an overlord who demands you constantly praise Him. It's not too far fetched.

"It is better for thee to enter into life maimed, than having two hands to go into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched: Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched."

However one chooses to envision it, Hell may not be all that it seems. No. Hell is a parasite.

The problem with all these visions of Hell is that the torment never changes. No matter how horrific the torture, the tormented soul gets inured to the suffering. Sooner or later, it loses its power over the victim. But this Hell is one that is all too eerily familiar, we're unaware that Hell is no better than Earth itself.

The world as we now know it, every street, every landmark, everything that can be seen to the naked mortal eye like a flame. It has its own replica. The differences only arise in how twisted and dark the once comfortable world has become. You know what the most torturous thing about hell is?

Awareness.

The fact that you become aware that there is a loving God, who wanted to spend an eternity with you, and you made the conscious decision to reject His offer.

So Hell is an eternity of complete isolation from God. Imperfect and brooding. An existing parallel-like dimension that lingers just below the footsteps of its unsuspecting and unfortunate victims, created to succumb to their ultimate demise. Such a sad, pathetic reality. To live a life of suffering only to determine how much suffering will come next. Only a fool would refer to either option as a utopia or dystopia.

Cities and towns that inhabit Hell's twisted familiarity lingered over by a brewing storm of red, bedarkened and weeping. The clouds are churlish and kraken-cruel with a dark crimson. They cough out great gouts of flashing vermilion electrical currents. It teems down in a biblical deluge, it snaps and crackles like bracken pods in a bushfire. Loud cracks of thunder in the whirlpool of shrieking, keening omen of the carnage to follow within its blood red clouds. They drown out the screams with the cracking of red lightning across the tar like skies. The clouds race across the sky, thrumming with the charged energy they are desperate to release.

The storm is like a tyrant. Everlasting and ever continuing on with its screeching above. Its presence is so vast that it's the only natural light source Hell ever needs. Making everything below its thundering wake tinted with a tinctured cerise red.

Against the debauched and aberrant factors of it all, Hell does host life. Its maroon soil tattered with charcoal brush and undergrowth is further fed by the acidic rain fall that the hellish storm above them reaps onto the land. Torrential rainfall created an eco-system long ago where all the disgusting and vile creatures made from devilish hands roam the barren lands freely. Ones of repulsive beauty as loathsome beasts plague the wastelands of darkened deserts that lay just outside the cities and their walls.

The trees in the forest were malady-black. Grains of poison begrimed the bark and gleamed like witch dust. Packs of Hellhounds haunted the sooty coppices, salivating over their prey and smearing the blood over their heavy faces and gnarling jaws with rows of teeth. They feasted as a pack on their fresh kill, tearing and ripping at strands of meat from the carcass. The smell of the Caprae they'd killed was putrid. The decaying air and stifling atmosphere provided the perfect abode for those who worshipped the darkness rather than the light. In the dense shadows, spiders clutched their snare-strings. Their webs shimmered like meshed steel dipped in silver. Eyes a-flame with hunger, they were hoping to dine on bloated bodies and slurp on hot blood.

Stealthy scarves of the mist detached themselves, slowly glided in silence and coiled serpent-like around helpless limbs. Between the trees, wispy cobwebs threaded out like fibrous star-streak. They would be the sinewy tentacles of destruction for all those who would dare their tensile strength. Exhaling miasmas of rotting vapor rose up to meet the webs, while above, fevered eyes, glazed with hunger, waited among the endless damp. Cruel as those eyes were, they lacked the ferocity of the hunter’s eyes.

Centuries-old trees with sprawling limbs guarded the darkness, blotting out any light from the storm above. Their bark was mottled and splotched, as if bubbled soup had been frozen in time on its surface. Clumpy combs of wet moss dangled from their rotten boughs. Underneath the moss, lethal larkspur peppered the mulchy floor. A pungent tang oozed from every sentient being in the forest. Something loomed here, to let anyone that passed to know they're not welcome.

Everything considered edible in another forest was nauseating here. It left you with the same, sickening taste of your own blood. It was a forest to be avoided. It was truly a place to make your veins freeze over.

That's what Hell is truly like.

An eco-system that was livable to a degree, the demons down here had to adapt to the harshness of Hell's climate or they'd be left to rot. Their carcasses torn and dismantled by the beasts down here. It was kill or be killed and a lot like Earth, there was status. A social hierarchy of Demons.

The slave and peasant demons, slaving away for manufactures who'd taken it upon themselves to improve Hell's distribution of demonic goods. It was almost terrifying how similar Hell and Earth were, that they're one in the same. The constant balance, maybe Earth itself was the true evil that plagued itself and needed something or somewhere to blame for it all.

As it went up, the Working and Middle class demons and the Upper Middle class often worked for those in true power. The Final Class, the only class in Hell that has access to the mortal realm. The living world as his oyster, King and ruler of Hell. Satan himself.

James couldn't help but glare at the both of them. Stood in front of him on his throne, cowering like sheep to be slaughtered at the foot of the stairs. Hearing the news that his advisors had failed to comply in what he'd ordered them to do, his lips curled into a sickening snarl. The internal flames that burned within his eyes flickered with a overbearing sense of inhuman like dread, causing a soft glow like that of a candle being burnt in its wick.

"What do you mean, you couldn't find him."

The grueling voice of Satan echoed throughout the dimly lit hall. A terrible like sneer that drilled into your very soul, enough to make any creature freeze itself from trepidation.

His advisors only quivered more, too scared to dare say anything. They exchanged looks of distress before one stepped forward. Tolys, a Lithuanian demon, took the stand to the first stair step that lead up to Hell's throne. The tormented screams of the victims seared his soul. He was kinless and kith-less, with neither family nor friend, yet he had been smelted in the fiery forge of violence since he was a child. He thought he was no longer afraid and when face to face with Satan, how wrong he was. The blood-lust was upon him, a familiar feeling. He cleared his voice, that tinge of nervousness in his voice ever more present as he spoke to the mighty King of Hell who was royalty pissed off at the two.

"My Lord, we searched the entire city. There was no one who matched your Queen's description-"

"LIES!!!" James boomed above the two, leaning forward now off his throne seat now. Tolys recoiled away from him, almost tripping and falling off the step in his groveling.

"S-sir, please understand...! We've been looking for days now! He's nowhere to be found!"

"Did you check everywhere?! The apartment?! The campus?! He can't have gone far without my knowledge!!!"

James screaming at them to find his missing Queen like he hadn't of just done it himself. Sending his lackeys out to find him was evident of a very poorly handled situation, then again he run the risk. Risking his relationship with the Tongan like he hadn't just tried to kill him a few weeks prior. He knew Kainga well, knowing he didn't dare show his face near him after what happened. Like poking a sleeping bear with a stick, he just had to be careful.

Tolys found himself stammering once more. They knew all too well what James was truly capable of.

"Yes, we checked everywhere he could possibly be."

The New Zealander sends his advisors a withering look as he sits back down in on his throne. Not having expected for both of them to regard his plan with little to no promise, the Lithuanian was not one to disobey him. He didn't dare to, nor Tolys or Eduard dared to even usher words that James did not want to hear.

"I am not. I repeat NOT, giving you two such important access to the living world if yer going to return to me and tell me you didn't find my Queen. Return to me empty handed again and you will both suffer my wrath, do I make myself clear?!"

Tolys could only stare at him. Watching the King of Hell as he rested his cheek in his palm, leaning across his throne in a rather arrogant slouch. His tail swaying behind him when he expected an answer from his advisor. He finally spoke up in a meek voice.

"Yes my Lord. I swear we'll return to you with your Queen's location."

Tolys bowed to him quickly. More out of fear than respect. James smirked to himself against his own searing palm as his advisors basically tripped over themselves as they scrambled out of the Throne Hall. He knew that Kainga wouldn't be able to get far. If so, he wouldn't let him, he wouldn't let him get away from him.

Oh his Queen could run, but he certainly couldn't hide.

---

“Are you sure you’re just homesick? Are you sure it’s not because of…”

“Yes, I’m sure, I just miss Nuku'alofa. Don’t you miss Copenhagen sometimes?”

Kainga cuts him off sharply before the Dane could finish his sentence. Before he can even say the name, bringing all the surging memories back at the event or the man who caused it all. A small laugh escaping his lips as he spots Densen's face curling up in the rear view mirror as if he was figuring out whether he missed his home city or not. Auckland's traffic was as treacherous as always, what was meant to be about a 19 minute drive was now about an hour of sitting in the line of cars that seemed to never end. Kainga sighed heavily and leaned back in his seat to gaze out the window of the stationary car. Densen was kind enough to give him a lift to the airport, he didn't even feel safe catching the bus. Not after what happened. Whether that thing was real or not, he couldn't risk anything.

Of course, he was dodging the radar of Satan himself. But once he's in Tonga, he's sure there's plenty of churches for him to hide in. With a country as religious as it was, they'd be coming at James in mobs with torches ablaze and pitchforks sharpened. Kainga couldn't help but snort a little at the thought.

"Are you sure you're going to be alright? I can't help but worry for you, you know."

"Hey, Den, I'm going to be fine okay? It's only for a week or so, I'll be back before you know it. And you have Piri and Tino still."

"Yeah I know. It's just with all that's happened. You certainly haven't got the best luck in the world."

Even when Densen attempts to make light hearted jabs to ease the tension, that twang of nervousness in his voice always throws him off. Like the plucking of an untuned guitar string. How much Densen is really worried for him, he finds it uncomfortably humbling.

Kainga's nose wrinkled up slightly, the splatters of dark freckles on his tanned nose and cheeks moving up along with it. "I'll send you updates if you're that worried about me."

"Alright, sounds good. But you have to bring us something back from Tonga. Like when Tino went home to Finland and brought us back those little Moomintroll plushies. I still have mine, it's sat on my bed post." Densen grinned widely as he met Kainga's gaze in the rear view mirror when he looked back at him. Kainga felt his face heat up, just a little.

"Yeah yeah I will don't worry, probably won't be as special as Moomintroll but I'll do my best." he returned Densen's beam with a rather watery smile. "There's tons of tourist gift shops around everywhere, it's a pretty big industry. I know of a cute little gift shop in Kanokupolu, might stop over for a haul for you guys."

His arrival at Auckland airport seems to evoke the same dreadful feelings he'd had for the past few weeks. He remembers it like it was yesterday as he stood at the entrance. The heat haze that caused him to disorientate, loosing his vision in the blazing sun. Reaching for what looked to be a taxi before all he saw was the dirty hood of a Holden Ute. Speeding towards him like something from a Fast and Furious movie.

Even the thought of it now made him sick to his stomach.

That was the day he couldn't help but regret when it all flooded back to him. So much so that he sort of wished it'd happen again, with a different driver or not was debatable. It'd gotten to the point in his life that he got disappointed whenever he saw some car go ever so over the speed limit, almost expecting it to be that Ute. Because the disappointment of it not being James was getting too much. And with Kiwi drivers, it was all too common to see some reckless bastard packing the rounds down every street he passed. No matter the speed limit, they clearly weren't as respected as much down here.

He found himself clutching his backpack straps with such force that it made his hands shake and his knuckles turn white. His suitcase sat beside him as he stood there contemplating his entire life up until this point. He remembered his past self's own sheer excitement touching down in Auckland, if he could see him now he bet he'd be disappointed with Kainga's decision to go back.

Like he said, it was only for a few weeks. He'd be alright. He prayed.

Finally bringing himself to extend his suitcase's handle before grabbing onto it, he merely waved back over his shoulder at Densen who was still sat in his car. Beeping the horn at him until Kainga gave him a response. Densen could feel the unclarity radiating off the Tongan, when he was stood staring at the entrance of the airport like it was a haunted house, Densen knew that not even Kainga really knew what he was doing. Only succeeding in making them both more nervous as Kainga disappeared into the crowds of people.

At this early hour the airport is as serene as it ever is. The people move with ease, quiet rivers of humanity freshly roused from their slumber. The floors are clean and white, reflecting the early rays and the manmade light the same. The squeaking of rusty airport carts could be heard being pushed around the floors, its all very fast paced for his liking. Surprisingly enough, he's fairly early. Having about an hour or so left until his flight departs, maybe he should ease off some stress before his flight. Air travel, or just travel in general has never been his favorite thing ever.

Rechecking his belongings and passport while he waited by a nearby café, ensuring that he hadn't left anything behind. Of course he checked before he'd got here prior but Kainga loved to be fully organized and prepared. He got lucky in the instance that it was rather quiet today, his claustrophobia probably couldn't take on a fully packed airport. Even having this whole thing planned out in his head, grab some coffee and food, pass security then head to the terminal. Show his passport, get on the plane then boom, he was out of this hellhole. Quickly taking his coffee and pie as he thanked the clerk kindly and went to sit down at the seating area. The smell of the sloppy meat pie caused him to judder a little, No, he couldn't be reminded. Not now when he was so close to personal freedom.

Yet no matter how hard he tried as he walked through the airport, he couldn't shake that feeling. The feeling of being watched by something, or someone. Goosebumps trickled along his neck when his blood ran cold. This time, he couldn't explain it but, it felt like two pairs of eyes. Maybe even more. Watching him from all directions until he became dizzy with the feeling. His breath got sharp like the life was being sucked out of him from pure fear. Soon shaking it off, he started to calm himself down. Telling himself that it was all in his head.

He knew all too well that James was very much going to be the death of him, figuratively or literally. For now he just had to keep himself together.

---

Arriving home at Fuaʻamotu International Airport and taking a taxi into the capital. Watching out the window as he saw the passing palm trees and overall familiar landscape of Tonga. For once, he felt relief. Like all his worries disappeared once he was back to his home country. Traveling the costal roads that lined across the islands, watching the resplendent afternoon sunlight with an unwavering gaze on the tip of the Pacific sea that seemed to stretch out forever. The waves were calm and harmonious against the sands with crepuscular rays shading the atmosphere across the dunes. He was home.

His serene and content ambience only lasted until the taxi pulled up in front of his parents house. Thanking the driver, he gathered his stuff out. Preparing himself mentally to face his parents again.

She’d been as overbearing as he had imagined. 3 days since he’d arrived, 3 days of questions about why he hadn’t been answering the phone when she rang, why he seemed quieter than usual, the usual worry filled questions from a concerned mother whose son had left for New Zealand 9 months ago all smiles and cheer but had returned, out of the blue, unable to even fake a smile.

His fathers absence explained as he was away on his missions trip with the church, that was one bullet dodged for now. Still he dreaded seeing him again with the mere thought of him finding out about his dating Satan situation. He was barely surviving under the constant questions from his worried mother over the breakfast table. Picking at his now soggy cereal, he didn't feel like eating. Not even now.

"Kai, please eat something sweetie. I haven't seen you eat anything since you got here."

"I ate something yesterday, Fa'ē." he referred to his mother in his native tongue to try and throw her off. He was unsuccessful and she only continued on.

"I'm not letting you leave this house until you eat something Kainga, what on earth is the matter with you?"

"Nothing, Mum, like I said before I'm fine."

"I can tell when you're lying to me Kainga Lynley Tukuafu, you've showed up back here out of absolutely nowhere and you can't even force yourself to smile at me."

Kainga curled his lip in plain annoyance. Mainly at the fact he was reminded that his middle name was Lynley.

"Look, I just didn't have a great time okay?" he slumped against his chair in defeat. Giving up on picking at the cereal, only to be met by the disapproving stare of his mother. Making him hurriedly start to eat it. "I'm only here for two weeks then I'm going back to Auckland to finish my exams. I just...felt a little homesick."

She gave him a troubled look but decided to leave her son be until he was ready to perhaps go into more detail. Noticing Rex under the table, looking up at Kainga hopefully with his little tail wagging sharply against the wooden floor. "I believe your dog wants a walk Kai, why don't you take him around town? Maybe down to the port, he has really missed you."

Kainga lazily trailed his eyes down to the excited look the Jack Russel Terrier was giving him from below the breakfast table. The small dog was practically vibrating with excitement and anticipation for a walk from his favorite owner.

"Jeez Mum, did ya not walk him? He looks like he's about to bounce off the walls. Or piss himself-"

"Language!" she snapped at him quickly. Kainga lowered his head a little before she continued on. "Oh I did, but you know how much he likes your walks." She gave him a soft reassuring smile. Kainga sighed and sat up from the table, pushing the chair back before going to find his shoes and Rex's collar and leash. Rex following after him with loud yaps, his claws could be heard skidding along the wooden floor when he followed him like a shadow. Might as well make the most of the sun before winter starts to set in. As much as he loved Tonga, he despised the tropical storms that the island brought on.

He’d thought coming here would make him feel better but he can’t say it had, coming home to a place that didn’t feel like home anymore, stuck in a homeless limbo where neither of his residencies felt like his own anymore. Shaking his head, Kainga just figured he’s putting too much thought into it. He walked Rex along the dirt roads that led into the capital's main town. Still remembering the way to go from when he'd walked Rex before. The sides of the roads boasted lush undergrowth that flourished in Tonga's tropical climate. Woven in along the roadside where ferns and fronds, pineapple bushes, and banana trees sagging under the weight of fruit. Coconut palm trees loomed over top of him, giving shade as they gently swayed in the breeze. Causing their shadows to dance down below along the costal vegetation.

Rex started to tug on his leash a little, the rope tightening around Kainga's hand before he was pulled forward with the Terrier's force. "Alright alright! I'm coming, would you slow it down Rex?" he snapped at the dog before he could fall face first into the dusty sidewalk. Rex obeyed, coming to his heel when they passed a pasture of farmland. Barricaded off by tattered wooden fence and wires to stop the sheep running out onto the road. A few sheep where already out grazing, one reared it's head up to bleat at him rather loudly as they passed.

Pausing to catch his breath, leaning on his knees and ignoring the slight pain in his hip that had been present since he’d been knocked down 9 months ago, thankful that it was still too early for most people to be out and about to see him as out of breath as this. Still, it was embarrassing. Slowly straightening up, hesitating as he caught sight of the central capital's district, a distant blot on the horizon but even from here the sheer height of everything was clear. The words James had nervously spoken came speeding back to mind, the brunet chewed on his lower lip as he got lost in his thoughts of the New Zealander only to be yanked out of them as Rex whined and started pulling again. It only dawned on him now that, if James was Satan then there was also an opposed Heaven in existence too. After all, Satan could not exist without Heaven, making his fathers strictly religious lifestyle seem a lot less insane than Kainga had thought previously.

It was a strange feeling, the thought of a Heaven perhaps scaring him more than the thought of a Hell did. Probably because he'd fallen in love with its King and-

Great, he was thinking about him again. Lost in thought when Rex pulled him back down to the capital below. Back down the beaten track of flourishing bush and Rex finally off his lead, scampering ahead to the bakery in town he could probably smell. Some proper breakfast for them both wouldn't hurt, Kainga thought as he smiled and picked up his pace to keep up with the dog. Only increasing when he decided to let him run off down the dirt tracks of the hills that surrounded Nuku'alofa. Had he really slowed down that much or was his dog really that impatient? He had no idea but the dog had best be pleased now, Kainga having to all but jog to keep up with him now. Somehow managing a smile, a real smile when he chased after Rex for another adventure around the capital.

There was a rustling from the trees they passed however, not something like a bird or a Fruit bat that inhabited the islands. It was much bigger, a humanoid like figure that caught sight of Kainga through the thick leaves of the Frangipani tree. Eyes flared as they both watched on like a Gargoyle would on top of its tower of stones. One turned to the other in the same fashion a large dark owl would, turning a almost fully 180° to meet the other. Smirking at each other, clearly victorious when Tolys spoke up.

"Bring the news to the King, we've found his little Queen."

#fic: call me satan darling #hetalia #aph new zealand #aph tonga #hws new zealand #zeaonga #aph #hetalia oc #hws tonga #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #my fic #last chapter should be soon ish #aph denmark #aph philippines #aph estonia #aph lithuania

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reineydraws · 3 years

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the first bad guy to make me rethink my stance on bad guys

#i never got to the end of bleach and in fact im pretty sure i didnt even really finish the aizen arc #BUT grimmjow's hot shit and i will forever and ever love his character design #even if his hair is difficult af to draw like??? i couldnt even draw it i had to feel it out by painting it lmao #god but he's so cool #also again i never finished bleach and will never finish bleach BUT i fell down a grimmichi hole a decade after i stopped reading it #ten actual whole years and then i come across a fic writer who has one (1) grimmichi fic and i go HM #and next thing i know i have 23 tabs open and theyre all grimmichi fics haha #there's something about yelly assholes who know theyre hot shit and can back it up that i like in my fictional characters idk #and enemies/rivals to lovers is just so *chefs kiss #grimmjow #bleach grimmjow #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #bleach #arrancar #espada #also from the fics i have gathered he's less of a bad guy than we think????#and he's always been one of those it's all about the fight and the win kinda guys and i like that too #lowkey im just comparing his personality to bakugou lola #anyways #i cant believe i watched bleach at the young and impressionable age of 9 or 10 #when i watch it now im like 'idk if i can handle that amount of blood' but i just ate that shit up as a kid #wild

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anyoneseenadam · 3 years

Text

Healing

pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: TW - sexual assault, rape, objectification and implications of abuse, smut, consensual sex, azriel is a sweetie and rhys is a good bestie

a/n: first of all PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!! i’m really proud of this fic but I don’t want to trigger or upset anyone, that being said it isn’t too graphic but still. Anyway I hope u enjoy, this took me three days lmao <333

based on: this and this

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You had your first less than savoury encounter with men when you had barely turned nine. Your body still hadn’t finished forming, but you were growing, and your body was gaining some semblance of shape as you did. It wasn’t much – just a whistle from across the street – but for a second your heart seized up with fear, and in the next you almost felt giddy. A man thought you were beautiful.

You felt like a princess that day – felt the way you had when the boy from your class had kissed your cheek, still too young to process the intentions behind that single whistle. But you didn’t care – someone wanted you.

When you got your first period at twelve – even more changed. Your body felt new, and you didn’t feel comfortable in the changes. Your old clothes didn’t fit and now your mother forced you into tighter corsets for those long, long dinners you had to attend. Your parents were respected Fae in the Hewn City – nobles who liked to drink and smoke and throw extravagant balls. And with your new body you could no longer simply hide in the corner or climb through secret passages with your friends – muddying your dresses.

Now you had to smile when men hugged you slightly too long, laugh when they commented on how much you had grown up, sit pretty and pristine with an old mans hand loitering to close to your rear for hours as you watched your parents drink away their troubles.

By the time you were fifteen you were used to the constant attention, your beauty not uncommon where you lived but still doted on often. Unaware of their desire for your youth, your naivety. The women never offering a helping hand but instead glaring down high skewed noses as their husbands slurred into your ears – still in shock that a pretty, young thing like you was all alone at this party.

When you were sixteen you decided to change that – kissing an alright looking boy at a party and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear so he would kiss you back. He stayed when you didn’t protest as he pulled you to the bathroom and pushed you to your knees. And for this small request, the greasy hands on your body at balls and dinners or any other social gathering halved – now only the truly self-righteous felt they could touch you still.

The only problem was you truly did love the boy you had chosen. He had faults yes, but he was kind – he brought you flowers and kissed your cheek. But he also spoke over you, forced you into silence and took what he wanted. And he always wanted the same thing.

If anything it was his father’s fault. The military commander never leaving room for debate when he argues with his wife – and sons only become what they see in their fathers.

Your father had left with a younger woman a few months after your fourteenth birthday, and you hadn’t seen him since – only heard stories of him galivanting around the autumn court from your classmates. You could see the distaste your mum held you in as she realised she would have to stick around to look after you, not yet old enough to be married. Then Amarantha had taken hold of the country and that possibility had been thrown out the window anyway.

Weirdly enough not that much changed in your life when she took power, the only major difference was that now you had to block out screams before going to sleep and even they had become like white noise. You still drank with your friends on Friday nights, went out with your boyfriend on Saturdays and slept the pain away on Sundays. Your weekdays consisted of school, dinners, balls and whatever more your mother could throw together to appease the high queen.

That and the high lord of the night court had started making appearances at the events your mother threw. He was a cruel man standing so proudly at the queen’s side – but you saw something flickering in his eyes whenever people spoke, complimenting his power and rule. You saw what you felt as you laughed at compliments and lingering touches – you saw pain, but more importantly you saw anger. And right now you could use anger.

During one ball you watched him leave, taking an odd route – not the one that would help him escape the loud music but instead a long winding corridor leading to a series of smaller rooms. Without thought you peeled away from your company, muttering excuses and went after him – grabbing a bottle of wine as you did.

You found him reclining in an empty room and knocked on the door gently. He cracked open an eye – slow like a cat – and beckoned you in. You moved to perch next to him, leaning back with a straight back and letting your head loll slightly as you took a swig of the dark red wine, before passing him the bottle.

“You looked like you could use a drink,” you smiled, eyes focused on his sharp jaw as he held the bottle to his mouth with a laugh.

“One way of putting it,” he smiled. The two of you sat in silence for several minutes as you took in his beauty, his looks plus mannerisms all made him seem like a wild cat - a panther trapped underground.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked, and you raised a hand to trace that sharp jaw. But instead of devouring you as any lesser man would’ve, he brushed your hand away and held it tightly in his larger one. “That’s not gonna happen, you’re what sixteen?”

“Almost seventeen,” you said, cheekily. He laughed but shook his head, squeezing your hand before releasing it.

“You’re still a child,” he said matter-of-factly, and you scoffed, stealing your wine back to drink again.

“Yeah well that’s usually a selling point,” your voice was sad, but you didn’t dare let your eyes stray from his – refusing to show fear, “And you’re so nice to me, I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

He laughed as you pouted, “You practice this in the mirror or something?”

“Usually works in three seconds,” you confess, and he whistles under his breath, “Men are rather easy to manipulate when they’ve been trying to get into your skirts since your first bleed.”

“And you wonder why I’m not about to take advantage of you,” he laughed, and you smiled – a real smile, or real enough. “Plus I don’t think your little boyfriend would be pleased.”

“Eh, he’s never pleased - I don’t think this could make him worse.” Rhysand took the wine back and frowned.

“Does he hurt you?” his voice was sincere but the laugh you let out was not.

“Don’t all men,” he swore, and you laughed again, “Yet you foil my plan to make you fall in love with me and whisk me away to the moon.”

He laughed, but his eyes darkened with deep sadness you were sure you would never understand, “I think we both no that even I could not do that, but I might be able to crush your fly.”

“Little boyfriend? Fly? You really don’t like him do you?” you laughed, head lighter already.

“I don’t like any man who thinks they can hurt women,” he said, frowning when he realised through your passing back and forth there was no wine left.

“Shit that took us like five minutes,” you complained, and he laughed, waving his hand lightly as several more bottles appeared before you – you grinned as you grabbed another.

“So any friends with weaker moral backbones that I could marry?” you asked with a laugh, and he smiled at you.

“I’m sure I could find someone,” he leaned back again. You smiled – finally happy that one night might pass in the company of a decent man.

Soon, you’d find it would be more than one night, a close friendship quickly blossoming between you and the high lord. All your friends were convinced you were sleeping together but true to his word he didn’t touch you, and by the time you surpassed the age of eighteen you didn’t want him to. But that didn’t stop other men.

After a particularly bad argument with your boyfriend that had left you with a handprint on your left cheek you had broken up with him – sending away his apologies and flowers, smart enough to see he didn’t hold the mental capacity to change.

Plus you were beautiful and young, you could certainly do better. And you soon did – rich men who liked to buy you jewellery, and fine clothes, men who enjoyed literature and art and spending time with you.

And at the start of each relationship, for a few blissful seconds you would believe in their pure intentions. But then a hand would drift from your lower back to your ass, or the gentle kiss that followed a necklace would shift from your mouth to your breasts. Not one of them wanted to wait until you were comfortable, so you made yourself comfortable.

You pictured pretty, strong men were holding you down and making you feel something, slipping your own hand between your legs and they penetrated you to try and replicate what you were sure a lover’s touch must feel like. And as always – after the first time- they stopped asking for permission, you were their toy, so you no longer had choice over that part of yourself.

But through nice guys and bad boys, for fifty years you had Rhysand who was a friend – who treated you with respect and finally let you talk, let you breathe.

In the end he was the one who found you, in the backroom of a party – drunk and undressed. You were weeping, curled in a ball with your attackers’ seed dripping out of you, bruises decorating your bare skin. When he turned you over with his comforting hands he found your nose dripping red and the vibrant lipstick you wore smudged.

He helped you sit up and redress, took you home and stood outside the bathroom while you scrubbed yourself clean in scalding water – still unsteady on your feet. You changed into a nightgown silently and neither of you said a word when you crawled into bed next to each other, crying in your best friends’ arms as he tried to console you.

When you woke up, he was gone with just a scribbled message about Amarantha and the name of a healer he trusted. But you just placed it back down, turning onto your back and staring at the ceiling as hot tears ran into your hairline.

You barely ate anything for the days following your assault – fighting with your mother more when you rarely saw her and subsequently breaking it off with your current boyfriend. You had thrown his hands off you when he tried to touch you and the screaming match that followed ended your relationship.

Your bond with Rhysand grew only closer however as you spent nights drinking in candlelight, talking about anything and everything until you were sure he knew every inch of your soul and you his.

“You know what I’m going to do as soon as she’s gone,” you whispered one night as you stared at the twinkling lights you had hung on your bedroom roof to imitate stars.

“What?” Rhys had asked, never letting his eyes leave the ‘stars’ which he had laughed at and then proceeded to rearrange to make them more accurate. To which you threw a pillow at his head.

“Find a hill, or a pier, or a large pit or anything and scream into it until my throat bleeds.” You said and he laughed, the bed beneath you rumbling.

“Consider me on board.” He joked as you sat up to perch at your vanity – smudging the sharp eyeliner you wore with a small brush and applying some red lipstick.

“Wanna go out?” you asked him, and he sat up to with a small, sad smile.

“Can’t.” you understood his implication and frowned.

“I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t gutted me yet,” you tried to lighten the mood, but his face darkened slightly when he joked back.

“Oh she wants to, I’m telling her any information you give me about citizens, so she doesn’t.” He said, ruffling your hair as he stood to leave.

“That’s fair, I’ll keep an ear out,” you smiled, squeezing his hand gently before he left.

Things changed when Feyre Archeron appeared, you saw the way your friend watched her and realised you might be competing for his attention soon, but you were happy for him. Until he brought her to that first party – drugged and barely dressed. You felt the bile rise in your throat as you pushed down memories of yourself in such a similar position, and while you knew he would never hurt her – he was still a man. And you were foolish to believe for all those years that he was a man who would realise this was wrong.

Making polite excuses you left the party, picking up the tails of your dress as you all but raced home – ditching the dress and closing the blinds tightly as you made yourself food in your underwear. The sick feeling in your throat spreading through your chest and stomach as you ate, abandoning your meal halfway for a book and large sweater. And when he knocked on your door that night, desperate to tell you all about her – all about the human girl who he was sure could be his mate, you pretended to be asleep.

You barely spoke to him the whole time she was there, unable to look him in the eyes when she was so clearly out of it – and the feeling only grew when the next morning she would have all eyes on her. You understood that feeling. You instead spent parties flirting with Tarquin, the young high lord who was only a few years your senior or warding off marriage invitations with laughs and carefully placed words.

Rhys would sometimes catch your eyes – furrowing his eyebrows at you when you avoided his gaze, the sick feeling never really leaving. But it wasn’t until you watched Tamlin slay Amarantha with a smile that he tried to speak to you again. Feyre was Fae and leaving with her betrothed and Rhysand had just confirmed they were mates – and never had he needed his best friend quiet like he did now.

You were sitting when he found you, head in your palms and blood dusting the skirts of your dress. You had been sitting near Amarantha when it happened. You looked up when he neared, smiling sadly as he sat next to you.

“Want to go home?” he asked you quietly and you scoffed, standing, and moving to leave quickly. He followed after you, grabbing your arm as you wrenched it out of his grip with more ferocity than he had ever seen from you.

“Don’t touch me,” he held his hands up, backing away to give you space as you got your breathing under control.

“What did I do?” he asked – smart enough to not presume anything.

“How could you think it was okay, after what happened?” your voice was quiet again, and so sad.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he implored, stepping slightly closer again. You raised your eyes to meet his and he understood, the darkness you carried in your eyes shining through – the memories that resurfaced in those dark moments. “I’m sorry, let me explain please.”

You let him hold your arm softly as he winnowed the two of you to your house where you sat down heavy and tired.

“I did it because she needed out of that cell, but I saw what they did to you and you’re a fae woman, she’s… she was human. So it meant that no one else would touch her.” He tried to explain, “And she wouldn’t want to remember.”

“That’s a horrible thing to do Rhys.” You stated and he hung his head low, “How in anyway was that helping her, to get her out you could’ve snuck her here or just take her to a ball and let her dress normally.”

“I’m sorry, I just knew this would’ve been the safest option,” he grabbed your hand again and squeezed it like he did all those years ago, “It’s over, we can go home.”

“I am home,” you laughed bitterly, gesturing to your house.

“No, you’re coming out of this city – we’re putting it behind us.” He stood and held out a hand.

“I know you’re trying to be dramatic and all, but I have to pack – and think.” You said and he laughed.

“Take your time,” he said, sitting back to wait for you, “And I know it might take you a while to forgive me, but I’ll wait.”

You had left soon after, as he revealed his city to you. Winnowing to a house where two beautiful women stood at the door, strong winged men appearing next to them almost instantly – all sharing the same tear-eyed look. Well, all asides from a short, dark-haired woman who simply smiled.

The men you presumed were Azriel and Cassian barrelled towards Rhysand, attacking him in the most violent hug you had ever witnessed. Mor followed soon after and Amren simply offered him a curt nod, to which he bowed slightly with a cheeky smile.

Cassian turned to look at you and everyone followed suit, you straightened up – not wanting to cower under their gazes.

“And this, this is (y/n).” Rhysand said, placing a hand on your elbow, “She’s the only reason I survived under the mountain.”

You smiled at him, annoyed still – but you still held so much love for him in your heart. You looked away when Cassian approached and wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly.

When he released you he looked you dead in the eye, “I am forever in your service.”

“Cassian let go of the poor girl,” Mor exclaimed behind him, and you giggled, looking to Rhys for support.

“Forgot to tell you he’s a hugger,” he shrugged, and you shoved his shoulder.

“Oh did you!” you laughed.

“Gotta get used to it, you’re part of the team now,” Cassian slung an arm around your shoulder as he guided you inside, “which means lots of hugs and long talks about emotions.”

“Don’t steal my best friend Cassian,” Rhys jabbed at his brother as you all moved to sit inside around a long table.

“He already had I’m afraid, can’t reverse love like ours,” you joined in, patting Cassian’s hand as he punched the air in victory, Rhysand feigning pain as he dramatically collapsed into his chair – a hand over his heart.

When you were finally seated you caught Azriel’s gaze, his eyes locked on you – having watched you interact with his family for less than five minutes and already completely enamoured. You smiled softly when you caught his gaze and he grinned at you, no words passing.

Later that evening – after too many drinks, you found yourself alone on a balcony you found, drinking in the fresh air greedily after all those years underground. You didn’t realise he was there until he was next to you – silent on his feet, his shadows a cool chill passing over your shoulders.

You tilted your head to look at him, in awe of his beauty. Not even Rhysand had awed you as much as this man was, his beauty unparalleled by anyone you had met before. He turned his gaze down to you as well, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you as he watched you move with such elegant curiosity.

“We haven’t had the pleasure of being formally introduced,” you smiled, lifting your hand delicately, “I’m (y/n).”

He met your hand halfway, lifting it to his mouth with perfectly poised and trained grace. “Azriel,” his voice was deep, gruff – and sent chills through you quickly. But when he moved your hand from his mouth you held on, the sparks flowing through you telling you all you needed to know. He similarly made no move to let go.

“Are we? I don’t really know how any of this works,” you laughed nervously but he smiled so warmly and tugged you slightly closer to him with the hand you were still clutching.

“You’re my mate princess,” he said, voice rough from disuse. You smiled widely, eyes forming tears as your gaze never strayed from him – finally getting one person who would truly love you, not your body – but you. He tugged your hand gently and you followed him inside, smiling and love drunk.

“We should probably go to the house of wind,” his voice was quiet as you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“Me and Cassian have to share a room here, the bed are singles.” You smiled and laughed – irrevocably happy.

“Yeah maybe not,” you said, and he held your hand softly as he walked you to the front door, passed his past out friends, Rhys cracking an eye open when you walked past him, and you turned when he tugged your skirt gently.

You okay? He asked in your mind, and you smiled at him.

I’m perfect, why? You replied as he closed his eyes again, clearly too tired to hold them open - Azriel moving to retrieve your coats.

Just don’t feel pressured into doing anything you’re not ready for, Azriel is understanding he won’t get angry. A sort of cold feeling settled on your shoulders when you realised why Azriel wanted that extra privacy.

Shit forgot I had to do that you joked but Rhysand felt the stress growing, however before he could reply Azriel was by your side again and you were waving him goodbye, your smile tight lipped.

Honestly, you trusted Rhysand when he said that Azriel would understand – but so far you had yet to meet a man who truly respected the boundaries you set, a man who would truly wait. Azriel met your eyes in silent questions before scooping you into his arms, flying high above the house as you squealed in his arms, clinging tightly to his neck, and shutting your eyes tightly as you soared above the vibrant city.

He felt you tense as you neared the house, swooping lower in order to land on the large balcony attached to his room. He placed you on shaky legs gently and looked down to smile at you again – heart so full of love and peace.

Not only was his brother returned to him in one piece, but along beside him came you. His mate. His mate.

You caught his gaze and gave him a tight-lipped smile, terrified for history to repeat itself. You wanted to talk to him and know him – you didn’t want him to learn to love your body instead of you. And you were truly afraid to be touched again, you hadn’t been with a man since you were raped – fear stopping you before they could get close and walls slamming up if they tried.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice was dripping with concern – genuine concern, and the way he said it made tears well up in your eyes. His own instantly widened as he sensed the sadness and fear rolling of you in waves, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you sobbed into his chest. “Oh sweetheart we don’t have to do anything, c’mon lets go sit down.”

He guided you through the glass doors and sat you down gently on the bed, holding you gently and coaxing you through your breakdown. Once your breathing had calmed slightly and you had pulled out of his embrace, wiping your tears harshly with the butt of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered quietly, terrified to anger your mate when you’ve only just found him.

“It’s okay darling, what’s wrong – did I do something? You’re not terrified of heights are you?” he asked, and you laughed softly, a smile growing on his face as his worries eased slightly.

“No, that was fun,” he grabbed your hand in his scarred ones and you gripped it tightly.

“Then what was it?” you looked into those beautiful, worried eyes and let out an exhale – bottom lip quivering.

“I just don’t think I can – I can’t do that tonight.” You whispered the words lowly, afraid of his reaction as you clung like a child to his hand.

“Hey, that’s okay – we don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” he smiled, worries easing. You still wanted to be with him, just not in that way yet – and he could wait. He would wait a million years if you asked.

“Even if I’m not ready for a while?” You asked, and he held your face in his hands gently – looking into your tear-filled, defeated eyes.

“I would wait forever and then some – I have already waited so long to meet you, I’m sure I can last longer, especially if you’re next to me.” Your smile was so sad when you met his eyes.

“I’ve been told that before,” Azriel just pulled you closer to him with a cheeky grin.

“And were any of them your mate?”

“No,” you smiled at him again and he thought his heart was going to combust.

“Well then, I love to prove people wrong.” You buried your head into his chest as his arms came around you once more, “Would you like to sleep here, or would you like your own room?”

“Here is fine, I like the way you make me feel,” you said quietly, tugging on the bond experimentally. Azriel just smiled and tugged back.

“That works for me, I’ll get you a change of clothes.” He moved to stand but you stopped him – tugging on the dress shirt he wore.

“I want this,” you grinned cheekily up at him, and he laughed, but undid the buttons and pulled it off anyway – turning around to let you change in peace. When he turned back around you were looking up at him with wide eyes – looking impossibly cute in his shirt.

“It has holes in the back,” you complained, and he laughed, sitting down to tug off his trousers before sliding under the covers as you scrambled to lay in his arms.

“Well I do have wings,” he cemented his point by letting one drape over your shoulders as you sighed in content.

“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” you deadpanned quietly, burrowed deep under his arms and the covers. His chest rumbled with the silent laugh as he pressed a kiss into your hairline.

The next morning he awoke to you laying on his chest, tracing the scars on the backs of his hands with a delicately pointed finger. He stared in wonder, and you must have felt his gaze because you turned your head to meet his eyes, face still puffy from sleep. As you whispered to him that morning, your chin resting on his chest as you gazed up at him until he rose to get your morning drinks. Barely daring to leave for more than a few seconds. And when he returned he was so glad he did – welcoming the sight of you curled up under his sheets with a shy smile and tired eyes.

“Do we have to do anything today?” you asked as you sipped your drink slowly, Azriel’s’ arm tight and secure around your waist.

“Nope,” he said, delighted at the prospect, “I just want to be with you and my family.”

“Sounds heavenly.”

True to his word, for the next few weeks that past, you and Azriel didn’t progress past slow, occasional kisses and lingering touches. But before either of those he was always searching your eyes – asking permission. And you truly fell in love with him during those weeks.

He was caring and consistent – never promising anything he couldn’t bring. And he cared for you, he cared for you past your body and looks. He wanted to be with you for an eternity.

One night, while you lay together, speaking lowly and listening to the rain fall outside your room – a glass door cracked open, you decided you were ready. You pressed closer to him, your lips meeting his own in a kiss more passionate than you had previously shared.

He followed your lead with just as much passion, but when you crawled into his lap he pulled away slightly.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you,” he asked quietly, hands coming to rest on your hips.

“I’m sure, I love you and I want to be with you.” You told him sincerely, “But I haven’t been with anyone in a few years so I’m a little out of practice.”

You giggled nervously but he furrowed his eyebrows, “But you told me about your boyfriends?”

“Yeah but I – stopped dating about five years ago.” You tried to explain quickly, old nerves being brought up, but Azriel pulled you closer and as always his touch calmed you.

“Can I ask why?” he watched you drop your head a little as you breathed slowly – determined to not let your fear rise, you would probably end up telling him anyway so you might as well get it over with.

“I was raped.” You stated and his grip on your hips tightened slightly as he swore.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” he started but you stopped him with a sharp glaze.

“You don’t need to apologise, it happened and it’s over now.” He could practically feel you pull away, so he loosened his grip on your hips and instead brought his arms up to hold you against his chest.

“Who did it?” he asked, voice dark and dangerous. You muttered a name lowly – under your breath – and he pocketed in the darkest corners of his mind for later. His shadows itching to tear the man apart.

“Look (y/n), if you’re ready I am more than happy to oblige but I need to know you’re really ready, I will wait as long as you need.” You pulled away from his chest and kissed him gently.

“I’m ready, I trust you,” he smiled up at you from where you perched on his lap and you giggled and he flipped you over, laying between your legs with a feral grin.

He made you cum three times with his mouth and those beautiful, beautiful hands alone – more than you had ever experienced with a man and he hadn’t even received any pleasure yet. Except from the pleasure of watching his perfect mate fall apart on his sheets, over and over.

And when he lay over you, your legs pushed up and wrapped around his waist, and his forearms on either side of your head – he would later swear he had never felt more complete.

“I’m here with you remember, will be the whole time.” He assured you, voice soft as he lined himself up and you smiled.

“I love you so much,” you whispered, and he pushed in slowly, filling every part of you and pushing against every spot you didn’t know you had. You swore under your breath when he bottomed out, the slight pain quickly being reduced to please as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good,” you felt shivers run through your body at his gruff voice and smiled, moaning when he began to move.

He pulled his head from where it hid in your neck and watched as you closed your eyes – head thrown back with a smile – and his hips bucked, desperately trying to control himself as he watched you arch your back.

“Shit Az, you’re so big,” you moaned loudly, unaware of the trance you had pulled your mate into.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered with a harsh thrust, a hand coming to stroke down your face as you opened your eyes to meet his, “So perfect.”

You felt as if your heart was going to burst from the love that filled it as you reached up to kiss him softly – conveying every word, every thought, through that kiss. When you pulled away you were nearing your end, the sensations building in you without the need of a fantasy or your own hand.

You moaned his name, gripping his shoulders tightly as one hand instinctively moved to stroke down his wing. He shuddered above you with a loud groan – his thrusts speeding up as he to neared release, yours hips surely bruising from the force of his own.

“C’mon baby, need to feel you, need to know you’re mine.” His words ignited something in your stomach, and you clung tighter to him, kissing his sharp jaw as you smiled.

“I’m yours Azriel, now and forever.” Your gentle words pushed him over the edge and his skilful fingers dipping between your thighs brought you down with him. The two of you crying out at the sensations you shared as a growing need to never let him go consumed you.

He collapsed on top of you soon after and he intertwined your fingers with his own as your breathing evened out. He slipped out of you, and you smiled up at him as he sat up, rolling off your body and laying to the side while you came to rest your head on his firm chest. He brought his spare hand upwards – twirling strands of your hair slightly as you rested in silence. After a few minutes, you clambered into his lap and kissed him firmly as he pulled you impossibly close.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt his heart swell with gratitude to the world for giving him an angel that would willingly hold his hand and guide him out of the darkness.

“I am so in love with you,” he whispered back, and you giggled, a hand moving slowly to stroke him as you felt him harden beneath you again.

“Hmm, is that so?” you whispered.

Azriel, who had started pressing light kisses into your neck, nipped you gently, making you squeal, “What were you saying darling?”

“That I am also deeply, and unequivocally in love with you.” You replied and he rolled his eyes.

“Just putting me to shame with your big words.” He muttered and you giggled – crawling down his body.

“I’m sure I could make it up to you.”

#acofas #acotar #azriel #acomaf #azriel x reader #acowar #acofs #acosf

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dinosaurtsukki · 3 years

Text

⸺𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀 27: i should be over all the butterflies (finale)

i should be over all the butterflies | a chuuya x gn!reader smau

a/n: wow, so here's another smau coming to a close. this ended up being much longer than i thought it would be but it was entertaining to write until the very end. i hope you guys like the final chapter and please let me know what you think of it !!

also, i'm sure some of you have been curious about the title. well, it's actually based on the song 'still into you' by paramore. when i first listened to that song i kinda imagined vocalist!chuuya (it's because of the orange hair). if you like, give it a listen while reading this last chapter

ever since he first started performing with the mafia dogs, chuuya had never felt stage fright or even remotely anxious before singing onstage. he even surprised himself when he came to the realization that performing was just second-nature to him.

but god was he nervous now.

usually, he was the one who hyped up the crowd before playing but right now, chuuya busied himself with fiddling with the height of the mic stand as tachihara and dazai took on the role.

"hey everyone!" dazai yelled into the microphone. the crowd in front of the stage cheered in unison.

"you may know us as the mafia dogs," tachihara continued. "but right now, you can think of us as the newest members of the journalism club."

"yeah, we actually just sent our application forms earlier," dazai laughed, glancing sideways at chuuya with a look that expressed 'dude, your turn to say something.'

"so, uh," chuuya cleared his throat. "we're actually going to perform a new song."

the crowd cheered once again and that put a smile on his face. he scanned the people standing in the front row until his eyes landed on you. chuuya bit back a laugh at the matching mustard shirt and pants you were wearing that made it impossible for him to spot. right beside you was ranpo, in crutches but mostly leaning on oda for support.

chuuya took in a deep breath and calmed himself down. having akutagawa right next to him, who looked the happiest he's ever been as he fiddled with the buttons on his keytar, definitely helped.

"this song is actually dedicated to someone. well, two people," chuuya clarified after exchanging a look with dazai. "and, i hope our thoughts come across in this song."

chuuya nodded at dazai and akutagawa, feeling his breath swell in his chest as he began to sing.

"can't count the years in one hand that we've been together. i need the other one to hold you, make you feel, make you feel better"

the roar of the audience gave chuuya a surge of confidence and he grinned widely as he continued to sing. it was always a bit nerve-wracking performing a new song and hoping their fans would like it. after all, he and dazai just poured out their raw emotions into the lyrics and hoped for the best.

for a split-second, chuuya's eyes darted over to make you out in the front row of the crowd again. was that a grin on your face or was he just imagining things? chuuya tried not to let the anxiety grip him.

"because after all this time, i'm still into you"

but at the end of the day, chuuya knew he would "perish and die", in the words of dazai, if he never let you know how he felt.

"i should be over all the butterflies but i'm into you. and baby even on our worst nights, i'm into you."

chuuya could tell that everyone was getting into the song by the time the chorus hit. the audience was jumping up and down in unison to the beat. dazai was leaning into the microphone singing the back-up vocals. tachihara had a wide, gleeful grin on his face he played the drums. even akutagawa was bobbing his head up and down to the music.

seeing all of them getting into the song gave chuuya just a bit of courage to lock eyes with you in the crowd as he sang the next line that condense all of his feelings.

"yeah after all this time, i'm still into you."

...

as soon as the mafia dogs started playing the song, one of the first thoughts in your head was "damn, chuuya's pants look really tight" and then "damn, chuuya looks really good onstage."

you've known him practically your whole life and even though back then he demonstrated no inclination at all for being a band vocalist, it looked like chuuya was born to be one. on the one hand, you felt bad that you two weren't close for the past few years. you would have enjoyed watching their earlier band practices and showing up for his first gig or watching him brainstorm new songs.

but getting to know chuuya again, especially this side of him, wasn't so bad. he was your best friend after all. and thanks to that little introduction he made before singing the song, chuuya's intentions were now clear as day to you.

"let them wonder how we got this far 'cause i don't even need to wonder at all"

you weren't sure if he could make you out in front of the crowd all, even if your mustard ensemble, much less see the expression on your face. there were probably hundreds of students in the campus square all watching and cheering to the mafia dogs' new song. but maybe, just maybe--

and there.

chuuya unmistakably met your gaze in the crowd and you smiled broadly at him in return as he ended the first chorus.

"yeah after all this time, i'm still into you"

'jesus christ, chuuya,' you thought as you smiled to yourself. 'you could have just sent me a text.'

...

"just so we're clear... you do know the song is dedicated to you, right?" ranpo said.

"i'm not that fucking dumb," you scoffed, flicking him on the forehead. right after the talent show, the three of you gathered near a bench just outside your dorm building. the crowds were slowly starting to thin out as well.

"is it... safe to assume that," oda spoke slowly beside him. you laughed slightly at the apparent hesitancy in his voice. "the other person is... me?"

"oda, i'm proud of you," ranpo grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. as if on cue, a text notification from oda's phone rang.

"you should take that like, right now," you insisted.

"really?" oda looked between you and ranpo. "do you need help with--?"

"i'll make it up the stairs on my own," ranpo huffed. "i'm not that helpless you know."

"right," you rolled your eyes. "says the guy who--"

"uh, y/n?"

you turned around to see chuuya approaching the three of you with his hands in his pockets and his guitar in its case on his shoulder. ranpo pushed you slightly forward before hurrying back to the dorm building in his crutches. oda waved goodbye before heading off in the other direction, leaving you and chuuya.

"so."

"nice... outfit," chuuya nodded at your shirt and pants.

"well, i've always had a thing for monochrome," you laughed, placing your hands on your hips. "look at your outfit though. i mean, can you even breathe in those pants?"

"not going to lie, i almost passed out on stage," chuuya joked and the two of you laughed in unison. "so... what did you think about the song?"

"hmm," you cocked your head to the side. "i think that whoever that song is dedicated to must be very lucky."

"really? then does that mean--"

"ranpo would absolutely love to be your boyfriend. or tachihara's. or is it akutagawa?" you interrupted him. chuuya stared at you with his mouth open before you burst into laughter.

"you should have seen the look on your face!" you pointed teasingly. "like your mouth was all open and everything. i gotta say chuuya i really--"

before you could even finish your sentence, chuuya had wrapped a finger around one of the belt loops of your mustard pants, pulling you close and kissing you right on the lips. instinctively, your arms wrapped around his neck and you felt both of chuuya's hands on your waist.

"you should see the look on your face," he whispered in a low voice as soon as you two parted. the smirk on his lips was enough to make you want to cover your face with your hands.

"i hate you chuuya," you whispered back much to his amusement.

"oh yeah, it sure seemed like you do." he flicked you on the forehead for good measure before walking off, leaving you to catch up to him.

"hey, hey. how did that song go again?" you asked, skipping next to chuuya. "i should be over all the butterflies... it's pretty catchy! you're gonna sing it for me again, right?"

"i literally just sang it for you."

"aw but i want one that's just for me. please chuuya?"

"...fine. maybe tomorrow."

a/n: and that is the end of the series! what happens to the characters next is all up to you guys (i do love an open ending for my fics). let me know what you all think and thank you for reading my series!

⸺𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

@kiyoobi @atsumusdomain @laure-chan @goodfoodxoxoxo @guardianangelswings @kei-ya @loisuke @whootwhoot @liz-multifandom-hotel @kac-chowsballs @violentfarewll @fyoyacanruinmylifethanks @nightmare-light @miyakiyo0mi @whorefordazai @rirk-ke @cross-crye @alohablue @duhsies @alittlesimp @tetsustation @https-inarizaki @himboos @magpiemissy @hanazou @monochromaticelliot

reblogs and comments are much appreciated

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missgeniality · 3 years

Text

Opaline Moon (m)

“The Moon can never breathe, but it can take our breath away with the beauty of its cold, arid orb.” - Munia Khan

➺ Banner: @hobiandsprite 💕

➺ Pairing: Seokjin x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Friends to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11.2k

➺ Summary: You are ingrained to love Jin, right upto the blood that courses through your veins. Confessing, however, is a whole other game. So it’s a good thing you’re bad at keeping your hands to yourself, because happenstance can handle the rest.

➺ Warnings: talks about dance floor fucking, making out in the bar bathroom, fingering, pussy slapping, passing out drunk, daydreams about thigh riding, reader masturbates, they make out A LOT, neck kissing, a hickey, nipple play, some biting, cum eating (kind of, you’ll see), blowjob, protected sex!, reader and jin are corny, the hurt is real but the sex is real-er

➺ Author’s Note: My lovely, lovely moots - @taegularities, @kithtaehyung and @baepsaetan, thank you so much for betaing this and hyping it up, your comments made this fic a hundred times better! As I mentioned on the teaser, this fic took a lot out of me, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing the angst and will write more whenever the story aligns! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing, and I hope this lovable Jin reaches your heart! (ngl, in usual fashion, I will come back and edit it again, so if you see a spelling mistake, your eyes are lying to you) Do let me know what you think, your asks and comments make my day!

This is the second part of my Dress Down series, find more at it’s masterlist!

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Sweltering heat. Blaring traffic. Little to no sleep. Through all things wrong, one man’s thoughts wrapped around you like a cooling breeze, a shield to protect you from the vicissitudes of reality, to draw you back into all of him. Unfortunately, your reality may never see that day come to light.

Kim Seokjin.

Kim Seokjin, the man who cooked you up a greasy break-up meal at three in the morning with not a sight of discomfort, putting your needs above all.

Kim Seokjin, whose puns make you roll your eyes heavenward, half awed at how he manages to pull one out of his collection at a moment's notice, and half irked by the untimely laugh it brings out of you.

Kim Seokjin, the man who will never be yours, and you have no one to blame but yourself.

One could argue that the miscommunication that had caused this present condition was two-way. If you had stopped him, corrected him, let him know the truth… you wouldn’t have to resort to the extreme measures you’re currently entangled in. One would also say, you are trying to redeem your mistake by trying too hard. Surely, everyone and their mothers could see through your ruse.

This is the fourth time you’re visiting Jin for his BE shoot - a shoot taking place two hours away from the city, disguised under various layers of secrecy to prevent any leakage of the album concept, or Jin in general. Of course, you had been made privy to such exclusive information, because you and Jin were ‘best friends’.

Best. Friends.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Best friends. The term you coined for (and forced upon) the bond you had. The bond that was too close to sprouting into something new, something fresh, something that was filled with glimmering allure and dragged you in like quicksand. But also, it reeked of commitment, of shadows, of newness that you hadn’t felt in the longest time, and fear of already being far too deep in without even taking the first step.

The loud thrum of some internet kid’s new hit pulses through the air of the club as bundles of couples occupy the dance floor, laughing and gyrating to a song that, in your opinion, most definitely does not suit gyrating. But with enough of the weekend happy hours intake combined with hormone-riddled minds, one could very well throw it back to a church choir.

You weave through the drunken bodies, trying not to spill the precariously held three drinks in your hands, making your way to your inner circle, the only people to blame for dragging you to this slosh-fest.

“Y/N!”

Somehow Hoseok’s voice can echo across the club, but you didn’t even need his addressal because Jin’s laughter is loud enough to navigate anyone to your table. Seeing you struggle with the glasses (and mostly the crowd, with some of them living their exhibitionist dreams), Hoseok gets up to assist you.

“I swear, if I see one more couple pretending to be dancing as they rub one off of each other’s thighs, the black market will have my eyes.”

“Oh yeah?” Jin’s breathy voice interjects your black-market dreams, still bursting in short laughs from whatever sent him rolling before your arrival. “Why don’t you go join them?”

“And whose thigh is she taking, yours?” Yeji snorts out, one hand holding her nebula blue drink, the other wrapped around Hoseok, urging him to come closer. Jin’s features scrunch into a cringe, and you’re thankful for the dim lighting because the disappointment in your features does not reach them.

“The only action these leather pants are getting is in the damned laundromat,” he points to his shiny trousers, “some jerk dropped his drink on it.”

“You could be the first person to give some chick an orgasm and a yeast infection.” Hoseok giddily adds, his fifth shot clearly making a mess of his brain cells.

Jin claps and gets up to move away from the group. “Better than a pregnancy!” he yells, before zigzagging through the crowd, possibly to the restroom. He is on his third cocktail, and you’d think cocktails are lighter drinks. But in this bar, their taps just seem to flow with tequila, and it is very evident in the way Jin is currently walking.

His absence hits you harder than you think, but it might be the alcohol talking. Jin has always been the mood-maker of the group, the one who brings everyone together. Of late though, his magnetic persona has been an irritant in your life. Any outing you two take, any chance you have to come clean about the burgeoning crush you have on him, is effectively disrupted by one of his posse. And today, Hoseok and Yeji took that trophy.

“Earth to Y/N. Has the cocktail finally broken you?”

You flutter your eyes in a manic fashion, to disperse the daydream you were indulging yourself in, and bring your attention back to the couple calling for you. Surprisingly, they have stood up, Yeji emptying the last of her neon drink.

“What happened?”

“We are going to the club nearby, they have better stuff. And that’s code for ‘they actually add water to the drink and the surround sound doesn’t shatter your ear drum’.’”

She isn’t wrong. The cocktails and music here are a 19-year-old frat party dream, not something the working class can digest. But you’re tired at this point, and don’t want to be smothered by someone else’s love life when your own is down the dumps.

“You guys carry on! I’ll tell Jin where you are and he’ll meet you there!”

You watch as Hoseok and Yeji lead each other to the exit, hands circling their partner’s waist. They giggle on and on, about nothing and everything, and it only hardens the emptiness you feel inside you.

Why can’t you gather the balls to spit your feelings out? What could possibly go wrong? Yes, you may lose one of your closest friends, but is this friendship really worth the agony? The bitterness you feel when you see any couple enjoying themselves? The anger you harbor whenever Jin tells you about his dates? The heartache, when he hugs you and tells you that you’re the best thing that’s happened to him… as a friend? Is it? Your plastered brain tells you to not make any rash decisions, so you don’t, instead choosing to get up and search for your best friend.

The corridor leading to the washrooms is dimly lit, throwing a merlot filter over your eyesight, making you squint in search of your friend. You being shitfaced does not help, and while relishing in your floating wooziness, you see Jin come out, and feelings you’ve held at bay for so long slither through your currently porous defenses.

He has always been good-looking. He himself has said so a dozen times.

But wow.

His hair lays messily atop his beautiful face, unkempt, like a breeze of beauty swept across his mighty looks and displaced every strand, causing disarray, but even the disarray only frames his superior looks and adds to its potent charm. The black, patchy sweater hanging loose off his broad shoulders makes you feel things you shouldn’t feel as a friend. That stupid gut of yours is currently screaming, yelling for all hands on deck, trying to block all the feelings from gushing in and sending you into overdrive.

By the time you can gather yourself to stop from giving in to those dangerous thoughts, Jin has crossed the distance between you, coming close, too close. Chocolate-brown eyes peer into your soul, searching for whichever fantasy you chose to lose yourself in. His eyes flit down to notice your rumpled dress that has found its way a couple of inches above its designated spot. His gaze returns to yours, but not without a newfound hardness, an almost steely glaze over the kindness that you usually find in the chocolate pools, accentuated under the garnet lighting.

“Hey, umm…” You beg for a reprieve, from your thoughts, from your filthy mind, from the way he is eyeing your cleavage, or just for the burning between your legs. You’re about to make some serious mistakes, you can feel it down to your bone.

You’re far too overdressed.

You knew it when you were in the process of getting dressed, but right now, you feel it much more - you look like a shiny disco ball orbiting amidst the plethora of loose tees, leggings and flannels. Everything screams comfort, because the amount of work they’re putting into this begs for it.

The strappy lace sundress you wear is extremely out of place, the halter-neck tie behind your neck fastened a little looser than necessary, giving your breasts the exposure they deserve, a nice valley view. Your dress skirt, adorned with pretty frills and dainty flowers, cut across your thigh to frame your petite hips. You are one floppy sun hat away from an extravagant Greek cruise - and in the moment you wish you had one to hide your face in shame.

You’re just out here, trying to escape the zone.

“Oh, would you look at the time, it’s tits out Tuesday already?”

Your eyes roll before Sanghoon even finishes his sentence, because you wouldn’t expect anything else from him. On the team of the set design, he is carrying a whole drapery worth of plush, mauve curtains, struggling with the slipping fabric. But apparently not struggling enough to stop him from getting his nose into your business, it seems.

“Literally not even a time you just mentioned. Can’t get one thing right.” You can’t stop yourself from stretching a hand out to feel the curtain fabric, the satiny sheets begging to be touched. Before you can though, Sanghoon moves away, not allowing you to shift the focus of the conversation.

“Don’t steer away from the facts. Your tits.”

“That’s the fact?”

“They’re out.” He bucks up, trying to point with the hand stuffed underneath all the cloth. “That’s the fact.”

“Ugh, can’t a girl dress up once in a while?” The pointed attention makes you uncomfortable, because everything he’s insinuating is true. With every passing staff member, you count a new shade of grey, interspersed with occasional blacks and greens, a stark contrast to your floral overtones. Amidst the thousand footsteps taken in your vicinity, only yours are pointed heels, echoing across the studio with every clack. But you’re a stubborn one, refusing to give in to his totally valid argument. “I just woke up early.”

“Girl.” Like light through frosted glass, he sees through your bullshit, but only partially. “You put an alarm to dress up? I have nightmares of the boss brandishing her whip and telling me to get into position, and even that doesn’t wake me up.”

“Have you ever considered… not announcing your kinks to everyone and their sisters?”

“Ehh,” he simply shrugs, “nothing is new when you’ve serenaded your boss drunk in a karaoke bar and still managed to keep your job. Wait. Is that highlighter?”

“Stop staring into my tits!” You can’t believe you got caught, but also, who can you blame? After testing this outfit out from the crack of dawn, you decided your cleavage needed some extra help. Three YouTube tutorials and one TikTok lady - who make it look far easier than it is - down, the contouring brought out the swell of your breasts, and against the light fabric of your dress, it does look too good to be true.

Memories of that night in the bar come in billows and waves, of how enamored Jin was with the way your boobs looked at that time. Even under the dingy lighting, in the cramped space, under heavily inebriated scrutiny, you couldn’t miss the flicker of heat in his gaze every time it passed your chest.

One thing led to another, and it was a cascade none of you could stop. The heat of attraction between you two does not help your wandering mind, and the fever drowns the knowledge that what you’re feeling is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, crossing some lines that can never be mended back again. With the proximity, his musky scent invades whatever defenses you were trying to patch, piercing through all your inhibitions and you pull him into you, claiming his lips to be yours.

With his wobbly knees and your wobbly heels, you somehow find your way to the washroom - mostly he does, you give in halfway to wrap your legs around his lean waist, his sturdy legs balancing your weight on them as your back hits the wall, and his lips tear down your walls.

“You look so fucking sexy today,” between bated breaths and indulgent sighs you confess, “just driving me nuts.” Letting your hands drag along his abdomen, feeling the ups and downs of his abs, you attempt to rid him of the sweater that’s been on your hit list all night. But to your dismay, your endeavor is blocked, when Jin gathers your wrists in his palm, turning you around to bend you over on the countertop, the smooth marble chill hitting your braless chest, perking your nipples under the cold.

“And you?” Jin bends to give your earlobe a languid lick, progressing very slow, a complete contrast to the movement of his hips as he ruts against your ass, your already short dress bunching up with every move. “You think it’s smart to have your tits torment me like this?” Grabbing a handful from behind, he tests the weight of each fleshy mound, and by now you are certain your perked nubs can pierce his palm.

His free hand, not yet torturing you, decides to get in on the action and disappears under the counter, swiftly crossing the bunched fabric of your dress, gaining easy access to your pussy. The cold touch of his pads sears against the heat of your core, finding your pleasure button and languidly fiddling with it, with no intention to cross you over the brink in sight. The only pleasure you can indulge in is the reflection of him abusing your nipples, pinching and tugging them down, whispering filthy words into your ear as he takes in your fucked out countenance.

You feel lacking, weak hands balancing your dizzy self, finding purchase to keep you upright - but you’re both drunk on alcohol and hypnotized by his beauty to do much more than stare at his mirrored counterpart. “For fuck’s sake, kiss me.”

How he understood your slurred words, you don’t know, but you are glad he did. In a moment you’ve been displaced, the hurried motion sending your neurons into a flurry. Once your back meets the hard marble, and your eyes have the privilege to see his, you pull him in closer, the force enough to hold you against the wall while your legs wrap around his lean waist.

Originally not a fan of drunken misadventures, that side of yours is strangely mute to the going current onslaught. Well, you don’t have much breath left to say anything, because Jin is efficiently stealing it all, his teeth clashing with yours as you engage in the messiest kiss ever known to mankind (or at least, to you). He changes pace often, dragging his tongue leisurely against your lower lip, conveying tacit words, just to switch it up with a sharp bite and reel you in.

One corner of your senses can feel his fingers messing around your cunt, and playing with the wetness your thong can barely contain. It makes you shudder, the damage that his fingers can cause solely circling around your hole.

“Fuck me.”

In your drunken stupor, you don’t know if the words leave you right, but you get confirmation when his long fingers finally penetrate your cunt, giving your walls something to clench on - although nothing could possibly compare to what you imagine you can get from his dick.

“God, you feel that grip,” he grunts, with two of his fingers in you, and Jin’s smile is the most sinister you’ve ever seen. “I think we should take this home,” is what his lips utter, but his fingers delve deeper, searching for the spot that crumbles you. The base of his palm grinds against your throbbing clit, and you are forced to bite down on this sweater, lest an embarrassingly loud moan escapes you and cues outsiders into your filthy doings.

“Now,” you half-hiss, half-growl as you grab the cusp of his legs to feel his half-hard erection grow under the pressure of your hand. Your palm sliters up just to go down again, this time without the blockade of his pants, but you are stopped short of success when Jin’s fingers slip out of you to give you a sharp swat.

“Stubborn, aren’t we? Can’t fucking wait,” he whispers into your ear, and as he envelops your lobe with his cushiony lips, he continues, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

No, no, no.

Your brain rejects logic, chews and spits it out before any of the rationale seeps into you. You have wanted this for far too long. The need inside you for a meaningful relationship materializes in the form of recklessness, desperately looking for surface-level relief for the moment. A night of sewing sutures to your battle-worn heart, stitches that may come off at the slightest strain - but right now, that will do.

“Please, Jin,” your tantalizing tone riles up his cock again, eagerly waiting for your next words, “can’t you feel me dripping? Come on, I can take you.”

“Fuck, hear that wetness.” He lets his palm slap against your sopping entrance, not stopping with one. With every slap, droplets of your arousal splash out, the insides of your thighs coated in the sticky sweetness, but your body is an endless reservoir producing plentiful more for Jin to play with. “Have you been sitting with this all this time?”

Two long fingers invade your channel again, leaving you with no response other than a gasp. They scissor incessantly, preparing you for what could be the railing of your lifetime. One curl inside and his fingertips hit the spot he was looking for, making you warp your body to take the pleasure coursing through your veins. His tongue seems to mimic the actions, looping around your earlobe as he sucks it inside, both ends of your body engulfed in all the attention he could provide.

Your cunt is weeping against the assault of this man’s hands, tears of your cum flowing down your legs with every pump of his arm. You are getting there, the sweet swell of release inching closer and closer.

But something doesn’t feel right.

The tightness in your belly, that is to a point caused by Jin, is harboring other sensations that are not entirely pleasant. Maybe you’re anxious about the happenings. Maybe you haven’t had a good orgasm in a while and have just forgotten how this thing works.

Or maybe, the bar should have the water tap actually give out water.

Either your eyes close, or your brain does, but suddenly all you can see is darkness.

Again, you are just trying to escape the zone.

“Step under those studio lights,” pointing at the too-bright stage lights being set up at the moment, Sanghoon continues, breaking your daydream, “I bet you could signal to aliens with the booby-reflection. Call them to Netflix and chill.”

“In about five seconds, my heel will be puncturing your eye. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

Sanghoon’s drivel was cut short, and so were your murder plans, with his entry. “Oh look, he’s on set. Gotta go!”

It’s like the lights, earlier threatening to burn away your skin, dim down in reverence of the glow of his face. The twinkle of his eyes when they meet yours. The shine of his smile when he throws you one. The vibrance of his tone when he calls out your name. Everything he does now threatens to burn you whole and it’s a wonder you’re not scalding, but the singe hurts you deep inside.

“Y/N! How do I look?” It’s a bathrobe. Like satin, or silk. Fucking hell, your brain could explode with the adjectives coming up, a whole chunk of them very much inappropriate to utter out in the current scene. Your arms want to rise, engulf him into you, and you have to physically halt the muscles from doing anything stupid. Brain, quick! Say something snarky and spicy, as best friends do!

“What’s the theme, unicorn puke?” The safest way to deflect is to attack. So you do just that. “You look like you dressed out of Hannah Montana’s closet. Which if it's true, I really need to see it. There’s a top that I’ve been eyeing for decades!”

“Don’t say decades.” Jin’s eyes crinkle in humor. “Makes me feel so old. Your dress is pretty cool too!”

Cool.

You find out how difficult life can be when you count every single minute of yours. So far, you have counted 4,310 minutes. That is two days, twenty-three hours, and fifty minutes. Ten more minutes and it will be three whole days since you and Jin spoke.

Yet again, you can’t blame him. When you came to the next day, you were in your bed, clad in the same shimmering silver bodycon that you had donned last night. The same one that had been privy to the colorful deeds you had committed in what was a dreary, colorless setting.

One ibuProfen and ginger ale, downed with some severe recollections of the previous night, and you had been ready to throw it all up again.

I don’t want to hurt you.

Words couldn’t describe what you were going through, and numbers weren’t invented to count the endless thoughts racing in your brain. You don’t know what is more upsetting. The fact that you actually had a chance to open your heart and you totally let your pussy think instead? Or that he was the one coherent enough to stop you from getting too far, and you let your desperation get the best of you? Everything about that night was wrong. And all the wrongs lie on your side.

I don’t want to hurt you.

In the moment, it was physical, he had to have meant that. But there was a tremor in his voice, you can remember clear as day, a slightly shaken side of him had emerged through the intoxication, and the words he had breathed were not shallow. There was a gravity to them, that you’d stupidly ignored in the heat of the moment.

And now, here you are. Counting up till the last minute, after which you can effectively call the friendship ruined. Stirring your tea mindlessly, you try to focus on the show on TV, the variety show comedy not striking the usual funny bones that they could 4,311 minutes ago.

The programmed ding of your phone bursts your thought bubble, a sound you have missed the past 72 hours. The ring you dedicated to Jin, that always had you running to receive because anything he sends brightens your day. But unlike those happier times, this ring has your gut fall into a pit of despair, struggling to choose between dispersing the suspense or remaining blissfully unaware of the damage you caused.

Jin: Free tmrw? We could grab coffee Jin: And talk

Talk. How? You barely remember what went down, save for fleeting moments that you recollected with great difficulty. Your fingers type back, trying to mimic the nonchalance in his text, that is very much absent in your actual demeanor.

Y/N: Sure. Paik’s at 1? Jin: Yup. See ya

Three texts, zero laughs. Of course, you’re not expecting him to land his jokes in this situation, even someone as talented as he can’t flip this tension. You’re just going to have to wait for tomorrow, when he decides whether you have a place in his life or not.

The painstakingly worn outfit, accessorizing the whole look, the straps of your heels digging into your toes, the specks of makeup dust lying stale on your collar bones, the shine faints at that word. Cool. A perfectly normal phrase for a normal friendship. You are left maimed, while he absent-mindedly tends to the rope of his robe, blissfully unaware of the cyclonic emotions churning inside you. All you can possibly do is gulp it down.

He runs his hands through his hair, beautiful locks coming out of place, and from one corner of the set, a groan of anguish emerges.

“Oppa! Don’t play with your hair and face.” A masked lady runs forward waving combs that look like artillery, “We just got done setting it!”

Some finger guns, a happy apology, and some silly jokes later, all the stylists merrily round up to undo his doing, and Jin signals to you to catch up later. And as he walks away, the strings tugging at your heart reappear, as they do every time you come to meet him.

You have a masochistic streak in you, putting yourself through this every day, when he had made it clear, that you two never stood a chance.

As if things aren’t already difficult, he looks like a dream.

Soft, snowy skin gleaming like it has personal lighting wherever it goes, you get flashes of the rarely witnessed sweat on his skin, from the ferocity of last night. He’s blowing away the foam of his cappuccino, and tiny bubbles float into the air before falling flat on the table, like an animated shine that follows him along. God has His favorites, and God makes sure all the lighting in the world is perfect for these favorites.

In no hurry, you wait at the counter to get your latte. After receiving it though, you can’t linger any longer and drag yourself to the table of doom.

“Hey.”

If the rasp in your voice is evident, he doesn’t show any recognition on his face. But you’ve learned to never trust an acting major.

“Hi. How are you doing?”

Inadvertently, a snicker escapes your lips. “Are you interviewing me for a job?” you joke, trying to disperse the heavy air, filled with unspoken words. “If so, at least know that I’m very expensive.”

The familiar windshield wiper laugh does not greet you. Dead silence does. The half-smirk he painfully gives you is heavy, and the furrowed brows haven’t an inkling of joy. It shoots daggers in your heart, to know that you are the reason for this jolly man’s despondency.

“Listen, I don’t think we should skirt around the issue too much. It happened, these things happen. You think Hoseok and Yeji didn’t have sex before making it official?”

His matter-of-fact nature isn’t new to you. Jin has always been a very practical man. Regardless of his inane sense of humor, his logical point of view has always been flawless.

But right now, at this very moment, logic isn’t what you are looking for. You are looking for answers, but as far withdrawn from logic as possible, to take the edge off of the tension-laden air that surrounds your table.

“Yeah, but even… unofficially… we aren’t a thing, right?”

Your abrupt question takes Jin unaware, almond eyes widening, like a toddler caught in an act.

“No, no! Of course not! I would never!”

His confession slips out with an ease that hurts you, digs deep to carve out the part of you that dreamt of anything more. Your eyes fall to your knees to avoid his perceptive gaze, the sting clear as the sky on a summer day.

You force a smile and continue. “Then there’s no issue. Anyway,” you gulp your coffee down, burning your throat, but it's a distraction from the burning inside, “I need to get to work. Anything else?”

He’s still searching you, for what, you can’t possibly fathom. From the looks of it, he should be happy with this homeostasis; he doesn’t even know what this means for you. To still stay suspended in limbo, not being able to move up or down, to continue having thorns digging into your beating soul as you watch him like nothing bothers your already frail feelings. Scene by scene, you can visualize the future, him distancing himself from you as he finds the one he calls his, with you left in the shadows. Your knees tremble in fear of the impending future.

Seeing you in a tizzy, he calls out, the voice too loud for the cafe and your mind’s prison cage.

“We’re still best friends, right?” If you knew better, you’d say his expression is that of sadness, of regret. But your judgment is clouded with your own bothers, and you interpret it as a look of pity. Like a lovesick puppy, kicked to the streets, with nowhere to call home.

“Yeah! Always.” You give it as much enthusiasm as you can muster.

Best friends.

Ropes wind around your heart, tugging and causing the deep ache that sets in as you walk back into your dreary building. Each string pulls you into a different dimension where you could move on, where you could be okay with the setting you had just agreed to. Where you would keep up your end of the promise and truly remain friends with him.

But no matter how strong the tug, your heart never yields, never lets go of the castle of dreams you built, staying steadfast in its own misery, choosing to hope, choosing to live the life of unrequited love.

“And that’s a wrap! Good job everyone!”

Applause and hurrays echo across the set to bring you back to the present. The shoot has officially concluded, which means it's time for your most favorite and least favorite part of the day - Jin and you doing best friend things, like grabbing lunch, gossiping about obnoxious coworkers, threatening to disembowel each other (in Mortal Kombat, of course) and other friendly activities.

Ever so respectful, Jin takes his time thanking every member of the set, regardless of whether they moved a cushion or held the reflector screen for hours. All the women gush over his beauty, reminding him of how, even amidst the glowing ornaments, his face was the brightest. His responses vary, from quiet little giggles, to complimenting the crew for making it happen, to straight up owning his charisma like a boss. That’s your man.

Well, not quite. Not one bit.

After exhausting the handshakes and hugs to be received, Jin walks to you, hands pushing his robe back to give it a cape like effect. You’re just glad that the man’s child persona still stays with him, no matter the situation. He guides you to his green room, cracking his bones on the way, (very sexily, might you add).

“Holding a pose for that long gives me cramps! You’d think dancing breaks my back, and you’d be wrong.”

You’re desperately avoiding looking at his fingers, and keep your eyes below them - shoot! His ceaseless stretching gives you a glimpse under his shirt - it is dragging your memories back to the last time you saw them, and you’d rather not. It is hurting you in more ways than one.

Eye contact is your safest bet. Looking up, you give him a lopsided grin. “Your grandfatherly days are approaching, Jinnie.”

“Hey!”

The rest of the conversation was less speaking, more yelling and chasing after each other to the green room, Jin taking mock-offence at your jab at his age, and his fingers reaching out to flick your forehead in retort. In your noisy, messy fashion, you both finally enter the room, dim gold light bulbs and shiny mirrors meeting your huffing self.

One hand on your knee, you hold on to Jin’s arm with your other, gasping for breath.

“Your grandmotherly days are already here, Y/N,” he snorts, and earns a kick on the shin, but that doesn’t stop him from bursting into snickers.

“Wow, why does one man need 4 mirrors?” You gape at his current green room, mouth wide open. It looks better than your entire apartment, with the counter carrying top-of-the-line makeup products. Only the best for this man. “So you can admire yourself from 4 different angles?”

Jin has disappeared into one of the inner rooms, but you can hear him snort at your comment. “Come on, I’m not that conceited. When the whole crew shoots together, the extra mirrors help.” The last part of that sentence is muffled, and that cues you into an important fact.

Jin is currently changing into something more comfortable.

A process that includes him getting naked.

Well maybe he doesn’t get fully naked, top on, top off, bottom on, bottom of-

Still. You’re sweating like a whore in church.

And things only get tougher when he finally comes out.

The ocean blue sweater he dons is tucked in. Who tucks in sweaters? Kim Seokjin. Why does he tuck sweaters? Oh, because he’s got an amazing waistline that he should most definitely show off, and the heat between your thighs becoming increasingly potent is a testament to that. You pretend to adjust your heels, giving the right expressions to show you’re in pain, but in actuality you are bringing your legs closer to get you some relief, just any relief.

Ripped jeans too. You get a peek of the thighs you were denied access to the night of the fuckening. Ridged and beautiful, not a speck in sight to mar his perfection. You are glad the facial expressions for pain and pleasure are not far apart, because your thighs, albeit very lacking, are helping the imagery in your head. Just Jin, seated on one of these leather chairs, and you straddling his thigh, clit aching against the strands of the rips in his denim, the fabric soaking up the wetness, with every push forwa-

“Now that you mention it, I do look dashing.”

And there goes that dream.

You pinch his cheeks in adoration, the vulgarity of your thoughts getting whitewashed by his silliness and blooming heart-shaped flowers in their stance. You feel your own pinch in you, wondering if this scene would be the same had you blurted your feelings out that day at the cafe.

It's times like these when you remind yourself why you choose to quieten that side. This dynamic cannot reincarnate in any other form. Any imbalance to this equilibrium could cause a serious case of best-friends-turn-awkward-acquaintances, and you don’t know if that’ll hurt you more than you currently do. You don’t plan on finding out.

But on God, he tests that resolution every single day.

Jin doesn’t even hint that he knows of the turmoil blasting behind your eyes. He nonchalantly fixes his hair, gives you a one-over as you are mentally undressing him, nonchalantly as well. Then he moves to grab his cologne, and two spurts disintegrates all the whitewashing and takes you back into the obscenities you were unfolding.

“So I’ll just go over the shoot photos, and then we can leave! You’re cool waiting here?”

“Hmmn, yeah!” You don’t let your mouth run any longer, fearing what might slip out.

He gives you a wide, innocent smile. “Great! See you in a bit.” Poor guy. If only he knew how debase plans you were conjuring just from the aroma of his cologne.

It is musky, like cedar or pine, perfectly suiting him. It is the same scent you remember inhaling, face stuffed in his sweater when he was fingering you to the tenth circle of hell. As he walks away, the fragrance diminishes, save for the slightest hint of lingering. You search for the source, and find the culprit strewn across the sofa.

The outfit Jin wore for the shoot held remnants of the perfume, and when you bring the shirt close and take a long, deep whiff, you transport yourself to the land of your dreams. You relish the fever smell of his cologne, mixed with his own natural scent, deciding that this is what you wish to smell like every waking morning.

Your longing for him has crossed way beyond physical boundaries. You longed for his love, longed for his attention. Longed to be the one that brings the light to his face. From morning rays to the darkness of the night, you wanted to experience it all by his side. To be his lone star, shining bright beside the moon.

Your hands are moving without your control, disrobing you of your thirst trap of a dress and putting on Jin’s shirt instead. One look at the mirror and you let out a silent groan - it fits you just right. Just enough to cover your ass cheeks, loose enough to let the air conditioning hit your heated pussy. While well-fitting shirts have never been the cornerstone of a successful relationship, your delusional mind takes whatever wins it gets.

Adding layers to your pipe dream, you don the robe that gave you a tough time throughout the shoot. When you press the tails of the robe to your cheek, the softness of the material is soothing. Soft, like Jin’s eyes, like his hugs, like his smile. Like him.

Leaning against the counter, you steady yourself, mind split in titillation. Your fingers find their own path, drawing circles on your breasts over his shirt, imagining Jin’s long fingers in place. While teasing your nipple to pointed peaks, you slip your other hand under your panties, trying very hard to mimic his digits, twiddling your clit between your fingers. Alas, the effect isn’t achievable, because Jin seems to know how to play you better than yourself.

The scent is getting stronger, without any provoking, and it is doing wonders for your immersion. You let out a loud moan when your fingers press inside, and you’re just glad no one can witness this.

“Y-Y/N?”

Fuck.

You are pulled away from your dreamland that was so impenetrable that you didn’t hear Jin step into the room. All the blood gushing to your nether regions has made a U-turn to flood your brain to think of a plausible explanation for this position. Instead it makes you giddy, and when you try to stand you wobble in your heels, to be rescued by what you think is a very scandalized Jin.

Time stands still when your eyes meet, and what you see are blown out pupils trembling, many questions fluttering between you two. Jin crosses a tenth of the distance between you, lips flutter as they try to make a decision - do they want to part and give way to the voice of question? The voice of reason? The voice that will break this hush, burst this bubble where he has the one chance to give in to his longing?

You bring your lips closer, and cause immense disquiet in his dome, the way of his heart gathering speed against rationale. Your eyes dance between matching his gaze and finding his lips, every fraction of an inch you cross sending tremors through you. You can feel the shockwaves traverse through your body, making a pitstop at your lips, tingling them awake. They move downwards, passing your heart, beating it wildly against its cage, and then to the pit of your stomach to tighten in anticipation; finally reaching the tip of your toes, where you stand right now, a nanoscopic distance between you. Each one of you is afraid to cross the bridge, unaware of the other’s desires.

Finally, Jin acqueises and meets you on your side.

Atomic explosions ring through your head, clearing out every single thought that is not about Jin’s lips on yours. The ropes that held your heart from beating to the tune of your want, they’ve loosened their knots to give you the leeway to love freely. As your lips exchange positions, his teeth lightly drag across your plush petal, and it brings back the most important part of that night that you couldn’t recollect - the one where his lips sang wordless songs of adoration against yours. Blind as a bat, you were.

You dig your fingers into his hair, not minding your residual arousal coating his locks, and you feel his hands doing the same to you. With your eyes closed, you feel a rough edge to his cushiony soft lips, but Jin fixes that mistake - one stray strand of hair trapped in the middle of your indulgence - he pulls it away to give you all of the kiss. The hand tucked in your tresses pushes in, silently demanding more access, and you’re nothing but ready to give it.

His tongue sneaks in to play a game with yours - when you seek it, it goes into hiding, finding perfect pleasure in soft, sweet kisses, but when you stay, it comes back in, awakening your tongue to deepen again. Everything he is doing is too much and not enough in one go, and you whine into his mouth in desperation, seeking some well-earned relief after months of holding back.

Amidst the flurry of your lips, your back hits the vanity countertop, and Jin pushes away everything on top to make space for you, not caring what expensive item flies down the counter to accommodate your ass.

As if you’ve made up for the months of holding back, the softness of the kisses erodes, teeth coming into play more and more, reminiscent of the night that went by in a blur. He swallows every mewl you give in return, blissed out beyond repair, your neediness making his cock strain against the denim.

His hand snakes down, spreading his fingers to get a hold of your back to push you towards him, covering any gap that dared to intervene. Now unworried about the shoot, your hands have effectively ruined his perfectly placed locks and messed them up to resemble the craze he let you spin in.

Before he can glide his tongue back in, you break the kiss, lest you lose yourself in it to the point where you forget to breathe. With attached foreheads, you take deep drags of air, letting the oxygen flow to your brain before you make some ill-advised, unclarified decisions.

“I- I was jus-”

“Shhh. Wait,” he breathes out, wanting to take a second and fully savor the moment. You nod in return, making his head move along with yours.

After sufficient air fills his lungs, Jin starts. “Y/N, we should stop.”

Last time this had happened, you had tried to force your way through his barrier, without giving his feelings a second of consideration. So this time, you don’t repeat your mistakes. “Tell me why.”

“Because, I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I’m way deeper in this than you think.”

“Jin, I-”

“Let me finish.” He stops you before you can explain how much you reflect his emotions, possibly more. He doesn’t seem to want to listen now. “Let me finish, or else I’ll chicken out, for the millionth time.”

You’re dumbfounded. Millionth time? When was the first? Acting majors, by God.

“I love you, Y/N.”

No, now you are dumbfounded. Your hands, holding his precious locks, drop down in shock, at sheer disbelief that all this time, he has been ready and waiting to return you the favor. Jin though, misinterprets it as a look of disdain.

“I-I know I do, and I’m sorry that I do. I know you don’t feel the same way. You can hate me all you want, but this is the truth.”

“And yes,” he continues, refusing to halt for even half a second, afraid that the courage he mustered to confess would dissipate the moment he does, “I’m attracted to you, and I don’t know what went down here --” flicking his wrist to mention your (his) outfit, “--but I’m looking, okay? And I’m hard as fuck. But that’s not all there is to it.”

“I need all of you.” He takes an audible gulp, trying to stymy his emotions from overpowering him. “I want to take you out, I want to hold you hand, I want to bring you to all the places I love. I want to introduce you to people, not as my best friend, but so much more than that. It hurts me,” bringing his hand to his chest, he emphasizes the point of pain by clutching over his heart, “hurts to call you that because I’m lying through my fucking teeth.”

You break eye contact, because there are tears smarting your eyes at his heartfelt revelation. You can’t believe the idiot that you have been all this while. The man of your dreams stands in front of you, baring his soul, and you can’t even do him the decency of telling him what you felt yourself before jumping his bones.

And you love him, too. Maybe you haven’t said so, even to yourself, but you’ve known all this while.

You love him.

“If you are just looking for a fuck, or want any sort of a ‘benefits’ situation, we should stop. I can’t lie to myself anymore.”

“Jin, my God,” you half-sigh, half-laugh, feeling a burden lift off of you after months of pining.

“You don’t have to pacify me, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” Even in this moment, he is looking out for you. His lips are curved upward to show you that he’s okay, but his pupils are shaky and restless, not in sync with his smile. You hope your next words can fix that for him.

“Pacify you? Hate you?” You shoot him an incredulous look, one you will explain to him very soon. “You are a much better person than I am, Jinnie. For months now, I’ve loved you, but even at this point, I didn’t stop to tell you.” The guilt of letting your hormones cloud your judgement for the second time lays heavily on your conscience. “I’m sorry for not making this clear earlier, but let me now. I love you, Kim Seokjin. I have for way too long. I want you, I need you. You have me, in every possible way.”

It feels unparalleled to get that off your chest. The leaden weight of your emotions immediately disappears - or the fact that it's shared, makes it much, much lighter. But then you look at Jin, and he still seems to have not put two and two together. You patiently wait for him to process all the information.

When he finally recoups, he yells, “What?!”

You let out a loud guffaw, the first one with no inhibitions in the longest time. “What?”

“Why didn’t you say anything that day at the cafe?!”

“You said you’d never date me, asshole!” You punch his chest softly, before slipping your hands behind him and pulling him closer. “I might not look like it, but I have some dignity.”

“I said that?” Jin brings one hand to pinch his nose in annoyance. “What an idiot. I think I was just inverting everything to make sure I don’t accidentally slip up.”

You lift your head to meet his eyes again, letting him see the tears you were hiding. You find a couple in his eyes, too. But the smile on your face is genuine, and that is all that matters. “I was blind too, so don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Flitting your eyes down to find the contour of his cock against his jeans, you ask him innocently, “How about we make up for lost time?”

“Fuck, yes, please.” And with that, your lips are engulfed again.

When you have all your guards down, the kiss tastes sweeter than before. Mere moments ago, while thoroughly enjoying the kiss, a sense of reticence had clouded your pleasure, holding you back from luxuriating in the headiness. A series of what-ifs had plagued your subconscious without your realization, but with all that cleared, you wholly submit to the kiss, emptying your mind until nothing but his name remains.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jin gasps out, when you bite into his pillowy lower lip, “I thought you looked the prettiest in the dress earlier but,” after pulling away, he drinks your current attire in, “you look the most beautiful in this.”

You snicker. “Even more than World Wide Handsome?”

His eyes bore into yours, no hint of the joking lilt he always carries in them.

“So much more.”

Your hands find their place amidst his shaggy hair again, and you lodge his face into your neck - a command Jin acquiesces to with great pleasure. After a long, wet lick to your collarbone, he lays feather-soft kisses on the trail he left, starting from your shoulder and working inward, until he brushes against the back of your ear. You grasp at his sweater, because his lips feel so good. Your breaths are short, sucking in every time he allows your skin the luxury of a soft peck. Once he lays a kiss on your forehead, he brings his gaze down to one of the main reasons that causes his cock to stir.

“Fuck, look at your nipples under my shirt.”

Gazing down, you can see the two pointed peaks that caught Jin’s eyes.

“That tends to happen when I’m thinking of you.”

He twists a nipple over the shirt, hardening it further, and you throw your head back in the satisfying pain. “Yeah, I remember.”

You are unraveling every second, the ache swishing amongst the bliss his fingers are bringing in you. He’s switched over to drawing circles around your nipple, until he snaps and tugs your shirt up, finally revealing the palmfulls of flesh awaiting his hands.

“Ah that night, I didn’t get to do this. Take this off.” But then, he makes you put on his robe again. You throw him a questioning look, to which he responds with a sheepish smile, “Just so, you know… you don’t feel cold… or something.”

“Just say you like me in your clothes and move on.”

“I love you in my clothes,” he admits in a heartbeat, his expression that of anguish, “can we move on?”

“God, gladly.”

Unexpectedly, he bites the side of your boob - not hard at all, but feeling his teeth against your skin sends your head reeling backward. Your involuntary response is to wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your core against him. His teeth continue to nip you lightly across the expanse of your breasts, the trail of saliva he leaves cooling parts of your flushed body. Finally, finally, he latches onto your left nipple and gives it a long, pleasurable suck.

“Ahh, Jin - you’re too - God damn it - you’re too good at this.”

Without stopping the onslaught he is unleashing on your breasts, his fingers begin to move - but soon, they stop, hesitation rippling off of their tips. His pace falters, and his mind is fighting on the next course of action.

“Can I-”

“Finish what you started that night?” you complete for him, already prepared with your answer. “Yes, please.”

All forms of uncertainty shoot out of his touch, and he confidently trudges forward. Playing with the band of your panties, he gives you a well-intended chuckle, murmuring, “As far as I remember, I was so good you passed out.”

“Boy,” You groan, intended in jest, but his teeth slide against your jaw and it mostly comes out more wanton than jovial, “let me see you have tequila for dinner and remember much the next day.”

“Fair fair,” he gives in, shifting to buss the valley of your cleavage, feeling your heart thud against your ribs holding it in place. “Well today,” he starts without moving his face, his nimble fingers moving past the barrier of your underwear, pressing two fingertips directly on your clit, and hissing like it's him at the receiving end, “I’ll give you enough to remember.”

You pull his sweater off and chuck it away, not wanting to be reminded of any blockades that kept you apart, and your hands roam the expanse of his back remembering the touch of his skin from the night at the bar. His body isn’t new to you, but the circumstances make it feel different.

Finally, his fingers find their way inside you.

Yes, this. This was what was missing from your drunken tryst. With your heads in place, your ardor intensifies, and you move his lips back to yours needing to release your animalistic desire into his mouth. Pleasure surges through both of you as you threaten to swallow him whole.

You can feel him being more present, and considering the merciless finger-fucking you had earned that night, this is taking it to a whole other degree.

The night at the bar, his fingers did their best to ravish you, but now, Jin is paying attention, close attention to the way you respond. Every muscle movement is recorded in him as you struggle to accommodate three of his lengthy digits. Leaning close, he gives your peaked nipple the lightest feather lick - the suddenness sends shockwaves through you as he continues to tweeze the other, talented pianist hands performing his musical piece on both ends of you.

His fingers pump into you with determination, finding new depths to explore that he missed out on, and with a curl of his pointer, you blank out, screaming in the orgasm that is washing over you. Every skincell of your body feels the quiver of lust spreading, your cunt squeezing for an eternity, milking the orgasm out to the extent that you can.

When you look down, your metaphorical orgasmic flood manifestes as a deluge of your arousal leaking on the table. And when you look back up, you can see the salacious ideas making their rounds in Jin’s head as he looks at the inundation you released.

Hurried hands still convulsing from the intensity of your orgasm, you undo his belt, followed by his jeans and finally - getting the pleasure you were heartlessly denied of - his cock is out, in all its glory, twitching as the cool air hits its naked skin. Jin’s plans don’t go hand in hand with yours though.

“Are we just - holy fucking shit - just, umm, leave that to waste?” he lustfully looks down to your leaking core, and someway, through your hold on his dick, he tries to steer you into his plans.

“I don’t know about that,” you cheekily reply. You have the right idea to satisfy both of you, and get down to the task.

With the flat of your palm, you swipe across the droplets of cum you released, gathering them to transfer them onto his thick length. Jin thrusts into your hand, the wetness jolting him into attention, and he places an arm on your shoulder to steady himself.

“You’re going to taste yourself?” he asks as you continue your vacillating motion, twisting at the base of his head with the wetness you graciously provided yourself. You give him a nonchalant look, something he is trying to do to you as well.

“Who said I’m gonna suck you off?”

His look changes, and the one you get in return is cocky, arrogant, downright rude if you were honest. You expected him to play on with your banter, but one raised eyebrow and the lazy smirk he gives, to what he probably thinks is a joke - Zeus could land on earth and not be able to stop you from gobbling his meat.

Your mouth is filled with his dick even before your knees hit the ground. Jin staggers back, but your suction on his dick is funnily strong enough to pull him back before falling. You switch positions, having him balance himself against the counter, all while you refuse to leave his cock out. His giggle of endearment has you pouting, but it swells your heart and makes you want to give more, more of anything and everything. With your renewed vigor, you push yourself in until his pubes tickle your nose, and his tip tickles your throat.

“Your-”, “I-”, “uhh-”

Every new sentence Jin starts crumbles to your actions. You furrow your brows both in concentration on your blowing skills and trying to decode what he is trying to say.

Jin takes a large gulp, adamant on making this one a coherent sentence. “You know, I used to imagine this, and in my dreams I used to be very sexy and suave, talking my way throug-oof-” You run your tongue over the tip of his leaking dick, emphasizing the point he is coming to, “Now I can’t even complete sentences here.”

“You being you is super sexy in itself.” And you curve your tongue to match the arch of his cock, letting the incoming saliva pool on it before letting it run down his shaft, dripping down from his balls. Strings of his precum connect to your lips, and you swipe your tongue through them, relishing the salty goodness before going back in for more.

“Y/N, shit, did you just moan?”

How couldn’t you? The fact that he is horny for you, so much so that rivulets of precum don’t stop drizzling down your throat, has you preening. You hum your assent in response, not willing to let go even for a moment, but Jin pulls you off before you can get a chokehold on the base of his cock again.

“Never had a woman moan while sucking me off. It’s sexy as fuck,” Jin breathes into your lips as he dives in for a kiss.

Your chest is heaving, catching the breaths you lost when you were down. “Then why’d you stop me?”

“Are you kidding me? I was about to lose it right there.”

“Jinnie, come on,” you break the fragmentary kiss you were sharing, looking into his glassy eyes, “let me feel you come on my tongue.” To emphasize your conviction, you lick his lips, persuading him of the sinful deeds your tongue is capable of doing if he’d just let you.

“Oh man, stop. What’s worse than busting a nut in your mouth? Busting it while you’re kissing me. Making me feel like a teenager.” You erupt into a loud laugh, soon followed by Jin as well. It is so him to joke about this.

“And babe,” all hints of embarrassment vanishing from his tone, “I’m only going to come inside you.”

“Fuck, fuck, yes. You got a condom on you?”

“Yeah, let me grab my wallet.” The instant he moves away, you feel naked, shivering from the comfort stolen away from you. But then you hear Jin grumble, “I hope I don’t have the bacon-flavored one.” And the absurdity of it all puts you at ease again.

“Ew, stop, even you can’t make that sexy. My lady boner is dying.”

He envelops you again, and you can feel the laughter echoing in his lungs before making it out to your ears. He brings your attention to the familiar rustle of foil wrapper. “Thankfully, we got chocolate.”

“Mmmh, gotta love chocolate.”

You take the condom out of his hands, and roll it onto his stiff length, flattered that he’s holding his erection for so long.

“Okay, stick it in me!” And you smack your ass in readiness, and a very flabbergasted Jin breaks out chortling.

“Y/N, stop being my best friend for like, five minutes!” His brows are furrowed in pretense exasperation, but you can see his lips holding back a genuine smile through the grimace, just happy that your dynamics haven’t changed the slightest, even though everything else has shifted.

“Okay okay,” you try and suppress your own laughter, before continuing, “how do you want me, baby?”

“Bend over on the vanity. And keep your eyes on the mirror.” And as you move into position, his palms grab your ass and squeeze it hard, feeling your glutes push back against his grip, and he pushes you forward till you're on the tips of your toes. You watch him through the mirror, watch him admire the way your ass curves over the table edge, how your toes struggle to keep you up, and how the dimples of your back are deepened by the arch, peeking under the bunched up robe tails, just waiting for him.

“Jin.” Your hushed whisper puts him in action.

Pushing the head in is anguish and relief at the same time. His bulbous head stretches your entrance; even with your preparation, you feel it sting. The searing gets better and better with every inch slipping in, and when he finally lodges inside, you let out a heavy breath, still panting and keeping yourself from screaming bloody murder in pleasure. Jin bends forward to paint the back of your neck, sucking the flesh till the circular bruise comes to surface.

“Can you- can you-fuck, no, wait-” Your brain is at war with itself, battling between adjusting to his girth and having him pump you into adjustment.

You can feel Jin’s snicker from behind you, and he finally makes the decision for you. “I’ll wait, I have things to do here,” he says before playing around the patch of skin, spreading from the base of your hair to the expanse of your back, his teasing licks relaxing your walls and accommodating his girth. The pain is almost gone, expect for the lingering ache that only helps you.

“You can move now, babe.”

“Okay, okay.” Your words snap him out of the painter’s dream he was in, and he twitches inside you. Something about the ease at which you both have adopted nicknames for each other softens his heart and hardens his cock.

Pulling out till only the head rests inside, Jin himself struggles against the third degree grip your pussy has on him. As he is thrusting inside again, your walls tense up, making it harder and harder for him to hold back.

“Y/N, sweetie, relax. I got you.”

“Jin, I’m-” You have tears running down your eyes, the pleasure and unsurmountable happiness rolling out in fat hot drops. “Fuck me harder. I won’t last.”

“Shit. Okay, hold on then.”

To what? Is what you’re going to ask before Jin unleashes his carnality onto you. Your breasts, dripping in sweat and saliva, are plastered to the countertop, which in itself is jiggling to the beat of Jin’s thrusts. His dick is curving inside to hit you repeatedly, and you have to gather the satin fabric to wipe your eyes to keep your gaze fixed on him.

He looks majestic. Forehead embellished with beads of sweat, his hair coiffed up, lips sanguine red after your vicious kisses - you swipe your tongue along your own lips to find them battered in response. His honey chest is heaving with every push, and a particular one hits you just right.

You let out a guttural groan, and Jin takes note of it immediately.

“Up,” he commands, and loops an arm under your belly to you pull you up and closer and now every thrust hits deeper into that spot he has found in you, your back connected to his chest as the two of you move in tandem; this is the most together you’ve ever felt with anyone. This moment is to be etched in your memories forever.

You scream into your fist to muffle the sounds, the edge of the table digging into your hip bone as you feel yourself getting closer to the brink. One swipe to the clit is all you have left to bring you to your release.

And from some telepathic force, or from the clutch your pussy has on him, Jin beats you to it. His fingers come down and carefully find your swollen nub, pinching it between his fingers. If he thought you’d shown him your hardest clench, he was wrong, because right now your dam has broken, and the iron-clad grip you give his cock sends him reeling, too.

You are gushing on his dick, the rubber dripping with your wetness. Jin too releases into the condom in stuttered gasps, his thrusts becoming shorter and shallower as he comes down from his high.

Petal-like kisses fall on your back as the two of you regain your breaths. The mirror that served you two well is covered in a fog of hot breath and perspiration, blearing your vision of yourself, but somehow, it sparkles with Jin’s reflection. His nobility-esque visuals use the haze as a valance for his appearance, framing them to make him look like you’re among the clouds. And in some way, you actually are.

“Ah, let me go.” You jiggle your shoulders back to make the man above you move. “Fuck, can you check if my spine is in place? I think you dislodged it.”

“Shut up and come hug me, I’ll squeeze it back in place.”

Now this is something you could get used to.

As he ties and throws away the used condom, you flip over to face him and fall back into his embrace, broad shoulders promising to protect you, making you feel safe in his care. Jin on the other hand is simply ecstatic to feel you on him, feeling your thumping heart beat for him, after months of pining and pondering whether anything would become of the seed of your tumultuous friendship. Now, it has blossomed to a garden of prospect and promise, every petal of every flower here reading a new opportunity to tell you how much he adores you, cherishes you, treasures you. How much he loves you. An opportunity he doesn’t wait to use.

“I love you.”

The pink tinge of your cheeks either comes from the sex, or from his comment, but either way, he is glad its from him.

“I love you too, Jin. So, so very much.”

If your heart could leap out of your chest, it would do so, to find its way to his and fuse into one. But for now, your entwined bodies give you all you want.

You hear Jin stifle a laugh, and pull back in question. He points to something odd on the countertop.

“What is that?”

The cream white surface of the table, that was maligned by your ignoble deeds, now sports two glistening, wheatish semi circles that look very similar to the sizes of one person who was splayed on top of it just moments ago.

“Is that…” Jin is trying to contort his lips and halt the looming snicker, and he brings his eyes down to your chest (trying not to get hard again), “Did you have makeup on your chest?”

“Shut up.” All you can do is fall closer into his arms, hopefully masking the tint of embarrassment highlighting the apples of your cheeks. “I wanted to make them look extra good for you.”

He’s given up on holding back, the full-bellied laugh that resonated from him echoing across the room. But it dwindles down fast, coming to small chuckles of tenderness, and he slips his digits beneath your chin to have you meet his gaze.

“They always look good,” he whispers, his admittance setting your chest aflame, “trust me, I’d know.”

Taglist 💛: @little7bitchh, @afangirllikeme-blog, @h34rt1lly, @marpotterhead

Thank you so much for making it to the end! I hope you enjoyed the fic, my ask box is always open for your lovely opinions. To read more of my work, find my main masterlist here. :)

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 3 years

Text

Teacher, oh, Teacher | Bucky Barnes x reader

Requested by anon / Summary: You’re a teacher and Bucky comes to visit you at the school.

A/N: you didn’t specify what grade you taught and what age the kids were in the request so I chose little kindergartners because i think they are the cutest little things. If the kindergartners seem to be too advanced or mature for their age, well, I’m sorry, just go along with it for the story please :)

Also, I really loved this concept and really enjoyed writing it! Thank you for requesting it! I’m sorry if it’s not exactly like you wanted. I thought I was following the request as I wrote and when I was finished it didn’t have everything you wanted, but I didn’t want to change anything so I kept it as it is! Hope you like it xx

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

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You’d only begun reading a story to your little kindergartners when there was a knock on your door. The kids got excited and you had to shh them, “Remember what we do when someone knocks on the door?” You smile and put your finger to your lips, the kids following your movement, quieting down.

You opened the door and were surprised to see Bucky there with a bag in his hand, “What are you doing here?” You greet him with a kiss on the cheek and he holds up a bag of food.

“Lunch. I didn’t see you grab your lunch on the way out this morning, so I thought I’d bring you something.”

“Aw, Bucky.” You’re grateful because you were late this morning and didn’t even think to grab your lunch, “Thank you so much.”

He shrugs and hears some kids coming down the hall, “I better get going.” He slips his metal hand into his jacket pocket to hide it.

“don’t you want to meet my littles?” You motion to your classroom, “I just started reading them Jack and the Bean Stalk.”

He shrugs you off, “No I better not.. I don’t want to bother you guys.”

You pout, “Come on.. they would love to meet you. It would make their day to have a visitor in the class.”

He glances down at his arm, “It might scare them. And I don’t want to be the reason you get emails from parents about their kids having nightmares about a robot arm.” He chuckles, trying to make a joke and seem like it doesn’t bother him, but deep down it does and you know that.

You put your hand on his arm, “Just come in and say hi.. you won’t scare them.”

He sighs before agreeing. You open the door, “Now class, it looks like we have a visitor! His name is Bucky. What do we say to Bucky?” You smile at them and then look to Bucky who stands uncomfortably next to you.

The class erupts into squeals about having a visitor and a chorus of “Hi Bucky!”

He forces a soft smile, giving a wave with his flesh arm, “Hey.”

“Is he going to read to us?!” A little girl in the front quickly asks, raising her tiny arm.

You glance over at Bucky, “umm. I don’t think so.”

“Awww.” The kids pout.

Bucky shrugs at you, “I can read them the book.. if you want me too.”

You hand over the book with a shrug, “The littles have spoken.”

“Do i just.. stand here or..”

You laugh and motion to the small chair next to him, “You can sit here and then they will all gather around and listen.”

He looks at the chair and then at you, “You want me to sit there? I’m like a giant to that chair!” He jokes, earning laughs and giggles from all the littles.

You laugh as well, “If you’d prefer, you can sit on the floor.” You motions all the kids up to the front and they sit around Bucky who does decide to sit on the small chair and he is for sure a giant to that chair. He knows now he’s going to have to show his arm so he can hold the book up and read at the same time. You also realized this and get on your knees in front of the kids to explain it.

“Okay class, everyone’s eyes here please.” You wait until they are all on you, “You know how some people are different than us? Maybe they have different hair or skin color? Maybe they are smaller or bigger than us?” They all nod their little heads, “We have to remember that even though they are different than us, we have to be kind right? We don’t stare, talk bad about them or laugh at them because that’s not being kind. Well, Bucky here is different than us.” You nod at Bucky and he slips his hand out of the jacket.

The kids all gasp. He waits for their panicked screams or cries, but none come. The kids are all staring wide eyed and amazed at the black and gold metal arm.

“That’s so cool!” One little boy yells.

“Can we touch it?!” Another one yells.

They’re all up and standing around Bucky, gazing at the arm in wonder, like it was the most wonderful thing in the world shining bright for the world to see. Bucky tells them they can touch it so all the kids are taking turns to touch it and some ask how he got his arm like that.

“I had a really bad fall and lost my arm.” The kids gasp, “Yeah.. so the doctors gave me this.”

“I want one!”

“O O can I get one?!”

The book was long forgotten and you were fine with that. It gave you a moment to teach the kids that just because someone looks different doesn’t mean they are any less of a person. They may have been too young to really know what that meant, but you hoped that maybe it would stick with them.

“My mommy and daddy do that too.” A little girl says as she saw Bucky give you a hug and kiss as he’s getting ready to leave. She stares up at Bucky, tilting her little head at him, “Are you Miss y/f/n husband? My daddy is a husband.”

You hold back a laugh and Bucky chuckles, bending down to her level, “I’m not Miss y/f/n husband yet...” He leans in closer, whispering like it’s a secret, “But maybe I will be one day.”

The little girl giggles and runs off to her table.

“Maybe one day, huh?”

He shrugs, straightening, “Maybe one day.”

Comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated xx

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#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fanfic

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spunky-89 · 3 years

Text

All Power (Kol Mikaelson x Female Reader)

A/N: Woo a new fic! Cause updating or finishing old WIPs is apparently not as cool. Also, this fic is a bit of a crossover from Teen Wolf, not anything like major, just some references and such.

Word Count: 1.8 k

Warnings: None that I can think of

The air was tense in the courtyard as Kol stood protectively in front of his lover, facing off against his pain-in-the-ass hybrid brother. Elijah stood between the two trying to keep them from tearing each other apart. Freya was off to the side holding herself, feeling guilty for starting this disagreement.

“You come anywhere near her Nik and I swear it will be the last thing you do.” Kol threatened.

“I don’t like liars, especially not in the house where my daughter sleeps,” Klaus growled.

“You really think I wouldn’t make sure that my girlfriend had no ill intent towards my niece? Do you think that low of me brother?”

“Enough, both of you,” Elijah spoke, turning slightly to look at his youngest brother and his lover. “Now, would you care to share what this ruckus is all about?”

“I don’t know, ask Nik.” Kol spat, rage in his eyes.

“You stand there and make me the bad guy when it is your pet human that is lying and has been her whole time with us.” Klaus proclaimed.

“And how do you know this Niklaus?” Elijah inquired.

“Because I sensed it,” Freya spoke up, moving closer to the brewing storm.

“Sensed what Freya?” Kol snapped, becoming more and more fed up with the current situation.

“Something… off,” She tried, struggling to find the words.

“You need to do better than that sister, or else this is a waste of time because you have no grounds to accuse my girlfriend of anything.”

“Enough.” The woman came out from her position behind Kol and came to stand next to him. “Please just stop, all of you.” She requested.

“Darling?” Kol gave her a questioning look and she gave a heavy sigh.

“She isn’t wrong, I’m not human,” She started, avoiding eye contact and staring at the ground. “Well, not entirely human I should say.” She then looked to Klaus, “I’m honestly surprised you didn’t sense it. I mean typically wolves have a sense for this sort of thing.” She remarked.

“Get to the point, my patients is waning fast,” Klaus warned. As he did so, Kol took a threatening step forward, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm.

“Okay, calm down. The short version is I’m a werewolf.” The woman stated plainly.

“You can’t be, you’ve never turned on a full moon,” Kol stated, looking to his girlfriend in confusion.

“That’s because I’m a different breed and I’ve learned to control it.” She then gave a bashful smile at him and said, “I also happen to have an amazing anchor that keeps me grounded.”

“That’s it,” Klaus growled and sped at the supposed werewolf and pinned her to the wall, his eyes glowing golden. “Who are you?”

She saw Kol move to intervene but she shot him a look to let her handle this. She smirked as she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, opening them to reveal her eyes were glowing a vibrant purple, wolfish features taking over her face slightly. And before Klaus could make a comment or move, she dug her claws deep into his side and rake them upwards, causing him to release her in shock. She used that moment to roundhouse kick him away from her.

“Who am I? Well, I’m someone you really don’t want to piss off.” She huffed, fixing her clothes.

Kol was looking at her wide-eyed, never having seen her like that before. He watched in fascination as her face shifted back to the one he loved so much, though the claws on her hands didn’t disappear.

While Kol was focused on her, she was focused on Klaus. She knew she just poked the sleeping bear, or well in this case wolf. She acted casual, but she was ready for a full-fledged brawl. She heard him let out a chuckle, and her heart went icy cold. She knew that kind of chuckle. It was the kind that told her she’d just pissed him off and he was amused by her attempt to hurt him.

“That was a neat trick, love,” He said as he stood back up to his regular height. “But you’ll have to do a lot better than that if you want to hurt me.” He growled as his eyes flared and he started to rush towards the woman. Before he could even get close Kol threw him to the other side of the courtyard.

“I told you Nik, not a hair.” He seethed, standing protectively in front of his girlfriend, who was now minorly terrified and clutched onto the back of his jacket.

“Maybe I should just go,” She murmured to Kol.

“Nonsense, you are still welcome here,” Elijah promised.

Klaus had gotten up and was getting ready to argue when Elijah cut him off.

“Why don’t we give the lady the benefit of the doubt. As it stands, if she had wanted to harm any of us she’s had ample opportunities to do so and has not. We shall hear her out before we jump to any more conclusions.” He stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Everyone was slow to move, but eventually, all were gathered in the seating area.

“What do you want to know?” The woman asked, practically perched in Kol’s lap.

“First off, how is there another breed of werewolf?” Elijah asked.

“Well, there’s actually a few. I’m from the French line of werewolves, whereas your brother is of the North American breed. As far as I know, the only other breed is English wolves. But there are many different shifters out there from many cultures. Kitsune, for example, come from Japan.” She explained as best as she could.

“How is it we’ve never heard of any other wolves or shifters before?” Freya asked.

“That I am unsure of, but I’ve met loads of different shifters and other creatures. Where I come from, it’s practically a beacon for supernaturals.”

“And you can control your shifts?” Kol piped up.

“Well for the most part. The way French wolves and shifters work is that you can shift at any time, not just on the full moon. But the full moon makes us more susceptible to turning. But for older wolves, it becomes easier to control your shifts. Whereas baby wolves tend to be much more at risk of turning uncontrollably.”

She then spent the next hour or so explaining the differences between the different wolf breeds and other supernatural creatures, although she never really explained what she was. It was actually Kol that brought up the question.

“Me? Well, I’m kinda a special case. I’m a werewolf, but well, an extremely rare one. It’s why I didn’t tell you who or what I was.” She explained, clearly nervous to reveal who she was. But with one squeeze of the hand from Kol, she sighed and started speaking, “I am the twin sister of Scott McCall, the True Alpha. I am his opposite in most cases which makes us an elite team that is nearly unbeatable. So I am what is called a Compliment Alpha. Part alpha, part beta, all power. It’s why my eyes are purple. It combines the red of an alpha’s eyes and the blue of a beta’s.” She explained, once again flashing her eyes.

“Does that satisfy you Nik? Or does she have to go through her life story before you trust her?” Kol asked, seemingly done with his girlfriend being interrogated.

“I swear to you I am no threat to your family. I didn’t even know of your existence until Kol revealed who and what he was. Vampires are kinda new territory for me. This is not some evil plot to harm you or any Mikaelson. You all have become my new pack, and you don’t hurt your own pack.” She swore.

“I shall allow you to stay, but be warned little wolf, I see even the slightest hint of your inevitable betrayal and I will end you and your brother.” Klaus threatened, but instead of being scared she just gave him a smile.

“I would expect nothing less.” She teased as she stood from the couch. “But just so you know, my old pack and I are hard to kill. Trust me, many have tried, yet here I am.”

Kol stood as well and took her hand as they left for her apartment on the other end of town. He pulled her close by her shoulder and kissed her head as they walked out of the compound.

-----------

When they finally made it back to her apartment, he could see her noticeably relax.

“I have to say, darling, I’ve never seen you kick ass before but I would love to see it again,” Kol murmured as he wrapped his arms around her waist and laid kisses on her neck. She giggled and tried to push him away.

“Stooop,” She whined as she tried to wiggle out of his grip.

Kol, unfortunately, refused to let her go and held her tighter as he relished in her laughter. Moments like this were his favorite because there was just joy in the air. All troubles forgotten and burdens lifted to make room for the contentment he felt when he was with her.

The two settled down on the couch and just sat cuddled up in silence for a while. Kol was the first to break it after about half an hour.

“Would you have ever told me?” He asked, looking down at his lover who suddenly seemed very interested in the couch.

She sighed and sat up. She hated this. She knew he would eventually ask this. And she dreaded it because she didn’t have a good answer. But she knew she had to give him something.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” She started, “My identity and my secret is the reason why I ran here in the first place. The danger became too great for my brother and me to stay together. We had to separate, at least for a little while. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” She paused as she recalled the day she had to say goodbye to her mother and brother. The physical pain she felt when she got on the plane without him. “I was scared.” she admitted, “I trust you, and I wanted to tell you so many times, but…”

“But what darling? Cm’on darling, I just want to know.”

“If my identity was found out, I would have had to leave again. Which would mean leaving you. And I couldn’t- I can’t lose you too. It would break me. Shatter me to a point that I would become volatile and dangerous to those who came across me. Because my heart’s been broken a few too many times for me to be able to come back from that.” She said quietly, not realizing that tears had begun to stream down her face.

Kol pulled her back into his arms and just held her.

“I swear to you my love, no one will keep me from you. Not even my brother.” He vowed.

#kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson oneshot #kol mikaelson x you #kol mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson #the originals #teen wolf #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #kinda au #werewolf

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

Count the Shadows - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where Bucky wants you to sit on his face.

Warnings: smut, a more dominant reader than I’m used to writing, pining!Bucky, all of the good stuff, second hand embarassment

A/N: so... this is a gift to @navegandoaciegas. She gave me the idea for the Graveyard series ending, and that actually inspired me to keep working on that fic that was supposed to only be a oneshot and then became the pride of my eye. I hope you don’t mind that I’m dedicating this to her 😅 It also allowed me to explore some new kinks that might be appearing thanks to her writing and so really, I felt like this had to see the light of day. But really, if it weren’t for @world-of-aus, @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog and @awesomerextyphoon‘s support, I probably never would have had the courage to publish it, so thank you guys so much!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Friday nights at Stark tower meant that something out of the ordinary was about to happen, and I’d already grown used to it, after being a part of the Avengers for the last two months. However, that didn’t mean that the prospect of a night planned by Tony Stark didn’t bring me a hell of a lot of anxiety, to the point where sometimes I’d catch myself wishing for a simple recon mission to take me away for the weekend.

Despite all of my fears and discomfort, I’d been lucky so far. Not once had his attentions turned towards me, and he never even so much as called me to dance with him during one of the raves he liked to organize, so I was able to slip by unnoticed, seizing the opportunity to drink the good (expensive) booze and talk to my friends before retiring for the night.

By Wednesday that week, it was clear that the same couldn’t be said about the next event he’d be hosting.

“Say, Y/L/N, have I thrown you a welcome party?” Was my rude awakening on that fateful morning. Until his arrival, I’d been happily whipping up some pancakes for the supersoldiers and Sam, my morning run partners. The moment his question was processed in my brain however, I froze on my spot, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Oh, now, don’t give me that look. When have I ever thrown a bad party?”

Bucky choked on his coffee, and I immediately was by his side, lightly tapping his back to help him. “I guess this answers your question,” I joked, but with a serious face. Unfortunately, Tony simply rolled his eyes, too used to Bucky and I’s “antisocial behavior”, like he usually described, to give us any attention. “Okay, so maybe not bad, but if you’re going to throw a party using me as an excuse, I have at least one request. And it’s a dealbreaker for me.”

Something in my words truly interested Tony, because instead of brushing me off he actually turned to face me, raising his eyebrows in expectation. “So what you mean is that if I don’t give you what you want, you won’t join the party?”

I nodded, standing my ground. “That’s right.” Next to me, Bucky stood straighter in his chair.

“Neither will I.” That brought a smile to my lips, and I turned to hug him quickly.

“Thanks Buck,” I whispered in his ear, relishing in the way he always held onto my embrace just a second longer than I expected. It was always like this with us. Ever since I first noticed just how touch-starved the super soldier was, I’d find little excuses to touch him. And if I ever doubted my first assumption, the way he always chased away my warmth for just a second longer was enough to prove to me that I was doing something right.

“Very well,” Tony said after clearing his throat to regain my attention. “What’s your request?”

“Only the people who live in this tower can be invited.” I was expecting a lot of fuss from the billionaire, but surprisingly, all I got was a disappointed sigh.

“Figured as much. Okay, big shot. But here’s the deal: you’ll have to stay the entire night and participate in every game we decide to play.” I shrugged, taking a sip of my coffee. That sounded fair. “It’s a deal then! All you have to do is be here on Friday night, capisce? Don’t be late.”

I should have known something was up back then, but as it were, I was just happy that I was able to stop him from filling the Tower with people I didn’t know. Not only would it help to keep Bucky relaxed (and perhaps even allow him to enjoy himself for once!), it’d also help to keep myself relaxed.

I’d never been one to enjoy big crowds, and I especially didn’t want to celebrate joining the team with people who weren’t even a part of it. It made sense. So when Friday night rolled around, it found me in a way better mood than I expected. I even accepted Nat’s suggestion and let her pick my clothes. I was feeling so great, in fact, that I felt bolder, brave enough to accept to wear a satin red dress with a deep neckline that seemed to be able to attract every man’s attention upon seeing me.

Even Bucky seemed drawn to it. And I couldn’t deny that knowing I held that sort of power even to a man of his caliber, a man that attractive, made me feel even braver. But with braveness comes stupidity, and I was brutally reminded of that fact by Tony’s smug face when I heard the dare he had for me.

Listen, I would have never accepted the idea of fucking truth or dare if it wasn’t for this stupidly sexy dress. I mean, the powers that clothing can have… They can make you blind with clout. That’s the only way I could justify what happened next.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I argued, much to Tony’s (and the rest of the team’s) amusement. Each and every single one of them looked at me with barely contained laughter, with the exception of Bucky, apparently.

“Careful, sweetheart… The dare’s already on and that wasn’t very sexy of you.” Narrowing my eyes at him, I very carefully thought out my gameplay here. I could very well retreat to my bedroom and go to sleep. But then again, this whole night had been so fun, and Tony had been really nice to abide by my wishes to only invite people that I knew…

“Fine. I’ll spend the rest of the night being as blunt as possible as I hit on you guys. After all, this is probably the only way you’ll ever get to hear me talking dirty, huh?” And with a wink in Tony’s direction, I resigned myself to face the challenge ahead. “So, let’s get on with this orgy, shall we?”

Bucky’s P.O.V.

It’s not that I was jealous. Of course, I wasn’t jealous. It’s just… hearing her say those things in front of everyone else made my blood boil like nothing else. I knew it wasn’t my place to feel this way. It’s not like she owed me anything, much less attention. As much as I wanted, she wasn’t mine, or even close to that.

Despite being head over heels in love with her, I still hadn’t gathered enough courage to even ask her out for a cup of coffee - or anything else, for that matter. And the worst part was that everyone but her seemed to know about my feelings. Which made this whole night even worse, since I was pretty sure Tony had done all of this on purpose.

So I had to sit through a lot of “Oh, please fuck me”, and “I wouldn’t kick you out of bed,” none of which were addressed to me - and those were the least graphic ones. I couldn’t really blame her, since I hadn’t spoken a single word from the second this whole dare started, but still, I was sulking, and I knew it.

In fact, I was so lost inside my own head, that I didn’t even realize what had happened when she asked “Do you want me to sit on your face or what?” (which I’m pretty sure was directed to Sam) until a heavy silence took the place of the animated chatter that had been going on. Imagine my surprise when I realized everyone was staring at me.

“What?” I asked, my heart already beating out of control, looking from one face to the other in the hopes of grasping what I had lost in the conversation.

“You just said you wanted Y/N to sit on your face,” was the response I got, from no other than Sam himself, and if my heart had been pounding on my chest only seconds before, now it felt as if it had stopped altogether.

“You’re crazy,” I tried to joke, trying with all of my might not to look at the woman who was staring at me. I could feel her gaze on my face. It burned and I ached to look, to see what sort of expression she was wearing, but my anxiety was just too strong - stronger than my curiosity ever could be.

“I wish I was, man. But you literally just answered ‘Please sit on mine’ when she asked if she could sit on my face.” I was going to die. I was sure of it. My face felt so warm, there was no way I wouldn’t just spontaneously combust any second now.

The worst part was, I knew Sam was telling the truth. Because those were the precise words I thought the second that I heard the offer leave her beautiful lips. And now I didn’t know what to do.

“Fine, your room or mine?” She broke me out of my self-deprecating thoughts, surprising me so much that I automatically raised my eyes to meet hers, finding her looking down at me with a mischievous smirk on her lips. Was she joking? Was this part of the dare?

The room erupted on laughs and I forced myself to join them, praying to whoever was available up in the heavens that they would let me be and thankfully, soon enough, the conversation smoothly transitioned away from me and my stupid malfunctioning. Y/N didn’t look in my direction again, which helped with my task of trying to get my breathing pattern into a normal one once more, and in a half hour people were breaking up into small groups and going back into their own rooms for the night.

I figured it was safe to do the same. So I got back to my bedroom’s floor with my hands buried deep in my pocket, trying to figure out what the hell had happened that night, when the door to my room suddenly opened and a tiny hand wrapped around my wrist, hauling me as best as they could into my own living quarters.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Bucky looked beyond surprised as he stared down at me with his mouth hanging open. I was tempted to tease him about letting flies in if he stayed like that, but I didn’t want to make this any more difficult for him than it clearly already would be. To be honest, I also had no idea how I’d been able to move that mountain of a man.

“What are you doing in my room?” Oh, right. That’s what he was concerned about. Fair enough.

“I wanted to show you something.” By the way he opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally being able to say anything else, it was clear that it wasn’t the answer he was expecting, but then again, he obviously wasn’t expecting me to be in his room.

“W-What?”

I grinned, immediately curling my fingers on the edge of my dress before promptly pulling it over my head and sending it flying across the room. Bucky’s jaw dropped, and it only made my smile grow bigger as I quickly got rid of my bra before finally doing the same to my underwear.

“What? Did you think I would let you suffer?” The poor thing, he didn’t seem capable of answering at all, eyes the size of plates as he stared at my naked body, practically drooling. I ran my hands over my breasts, cupping them slightly before trailing further down.

“Did you think I’d let Sam learn what my pussy tasted like? Or Steve? No, no, no, James. This is for you and you only.” Burying a finger inside of me, I made sure to let out my loudest, most pornographic moan as I slowly thrusted it once inside of me before raising it to his face.

“See how I’m soaked? I always get like this when I’m near you.” Bucky actually whimpered, knees faltering for a second as he reached out to grab a hold of himself with the wall next to us, and I laughed before raising a challenging eyebrow in his direction. “What are you waiting for? Get on your knees.”

My breath hitched as I watched the mountain of a man before me literally do exactly that, hypnotizingly staring at the space between my legs before slowly meeting my eyes with a look of pure need in his perfect face. Jesus. How the fuck was I supposed to control myself when he was looking at me like that?

I had gathered the sense that Bucky wanted me, that much became clear tonight, but I had no idea the extent of his desire until just then. Until he looked at me with pupils dilated from under his stupidly long eyelashes, breath coming out from his open mouth like he was desperate for me, desperate to taste what I had to offer.

He looked like he would do anything I asked him to in that second, and the feeling of power that thought gave me left me horny as nothing else. So my first order of business was to command, “Eat me.”

The second the words were out, it was clear that was all he was waiting to do what both of us so clearly wanted. Two strong hands grabbed me from behind and with that grasp of my ass, he pulled me to him until I was in fact seated on his face, wholly dependent on his muscular body to keep me up.

“Oh God,” he was the one to whisper, and a shiver ran through my body as he licked my pussy from clit to hole before diving in as if he was determined to rid me of all of my wetness - knowing fully well it was an impossible task.

Bucky Barnes didn’t need any guidance in the art of eating pussy, that quickly became clear to me, but I still felt the need to grab a hold of his hair just to help keep myself grounded into the reality of this moment. The way he moaned against my cunt at the action, the vibrations running through my body and making me tremble on top of him, certainly didn’t make me regret any part of my decision. It was clear he liked that sting of pain.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

I was having a hard time believing this was really happening, even though I had Y/N’s completely naked body on top of me, her cunt spread open by my own tongue, her juices covering every inch of my tongue. I couldn’t even convince myself to close my eyes to fully enjoy her taste, too preoccupied with memorizing every little thing about this moment.

And the second she opened her eyes to find me already looking up at her, I was particularly glad for my decision, if only because I got to witness the delicious smile that took over her beautiful face before she grinded her pussy against my lips.

“Fuck, you look so good like this. I could get used to this.” A jolt ran through my body at the implications of what she was saying. Before I could even fully process it, I was already responding with the only thing that occupied my mind then, “Please do.”

If I thought I would scare her away with my desperation, a delighted giggle immediately managed to calm my nerves. “Do you always say what you’re thinking?” She asked, still rubbing herself against me, so it took me a while to be able to moan against her wetness an honest, “Yes.” When I did though, the vibrations managed to be exactly what she needed to gush her release onto my waiting mouth, making me growl in excitement. She was so fucking sweet. My cock was so fucking hard it hurt, but all I could think about was how much I wanted to pleasure her, how much I never wanted this night to end.

Unfortunately for my plans, she decided to climb down from me, eyes drinking my kneeling position while she caught her breath for a bit before she threw herself on my bed, feet on the mattress so I’d get a perfect vision of her perfect pussy. Hypnotized, I didn’t even notice I’d gotten up and approached her until her voice broke me out of my reverie.

“Would you like to take a picture?” I knew she was joking, but there was no way I’d miss the slightest possibility of getting at least a permanent reminder of this night, so I answered as truthfully as possible yet again, “Of course. Would you let me take one?”

I was expecting her to laugh it off and move this along, but once more her answer surprised me. “Only if you promise me you won’t use it to jerk off to.” The confusion must have been clear in my expression, because she quickly added, “That’s what I’m here for.”

My heartbeat picked up as I struggled to process her words. “D-Does this mean you’ll want to do this again?” I watched as a small smile grew on her lips and she sat up on the mattress before reaching out to me.

“Every night, if you’ll have me.”

Another moment of silence as I struggled to accept that this was real, that this was really happening.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I couldn’t contain my delighted giggles at the lovestruck expression on Bucky’s eyes. But my need for him was growing deeper every second, so while he stared I reached out for his jeans, quickly managing to unzip them and push them down until I could wrap my hands around his member.

“Jesus, you’re so hard.” Even without any actual stimulation, apparently just giving me pleasure was enough to get him ready for me. I could barely wait to feel his cock inside of my pussy.

“I-I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispered while climbing on the bed and settling between my thighs. “I’ve been dreaming about this for the longest time.” Gosh, could he be any more perfect?

“Well, it’s happening now, James. Please, please, fuck me. I need your cock in me.” His lips looked wet from our earlier activities, and my gaze immediately fell on them when he gasped at my words and the feeling of his cock rubbing on my pussy. When I positioned the head and pulled him closer to me, signaling what I wanted, he followed without any resistance, his entire body trembling as he struggled to keep himself up with both hands on either side of my head.

“You’re doing so great, baby. God, it feels so good to be with you like this.” Apparently, Bucky grew tired of fighting against his own body, since he allowed his massive frame to fall just over mine, resting his forehead on mine.

“Fuck.” Hearing the word whispered so close to me, his warm breath dancing over my skin, while he was effectively about to do just that, felt incredibly arousing for something so small. “It’s like I can’t get close enough to you.”

In the search to feel more connected to me, he finally started thrusting, and then it was like I’d forgotten to speak altogether. Only able to hold tight to those shoulders that tempted me for so long, I struggled to keep the moans and whimpers inside so I could continue to hear the little breathless whispers that he was releasing, almost like he was speaking to himself…

“So wet…” It all only made me more desperate for the enchanting man on top of me, so beautiful, and yet so insecure of his own allure. I hoped after tonight he’d start understanding just how attractive he truly was, at least to me.

“Bucky…” I managed to whisper, calling out for his attention and earning it when his eyes snapped open to meet mine. “Bucky, kiss me.” I needed to feel those lips against mine, to have that one sweet gesture of entwinement that we still hadn’t shared. Apparently, he felt the same need, because in a second, he was onto me, mouth slowly prying mine open so his tongue could explore yet another part of my body that now belonged to him.

By then, he couldn’t contain his moans anymore, and I was grateful that I was still able to keep mine low so I wouldn’t miss the symphony of whimpers and whines, especially after he pulled away to catch his breath and his eyes met mine.

“Fuck, darling…” Each sound from his lips made my pulse grow quicker, my body warmer, that incredible high closer and closer to me. And still, because I needed to tease him, I found myself saying, “For someone who was so embarrassed about the team knowing you wanted me, you surely can be loud.”

Bucky hid his head on the crook of my neck, making goosebumps rise all over my body as he rubbed his nose against my skin, breathing me in. If I thought it was a gesture of shyness, his next words assured me that wasn’t the case at all.

“I want them to hear. I want them to know I’m yours.” The confession had the fire of desire burning brighter inside of me, and my hands slipped around his back, certainly leaving nailprints behind.

“Oh, is that it? You’re mine now, James?” The thought thrilled me to no end, but I needed him to say it, not only because I wanted to be sure there was no uncertainty in his feelings for me, but also because it made me even weaker for the soldier and the dominance he had over my body.

“C-Can I be? Please?” There was so much vulnerability in his beautiful blue eyes that the only answer I managed to give at first was the connection between our lips again, pulling him down to me so our bodies were completely glued to one another once more. My fingers buried in his locks, I pulled on them when I needed to gather some air, and finally give him an actual answer.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

“Hell fucking yes. We’ll be the hottest couple on Earth.” A shiver went through my body at the realization that she truly wanted this, that she truly wanted me. A sound escaped my lips before I could realize, and in fact, I only noticed it because she broke me out of my reverie by saying, “You know, everytime you whine, I have the overwhelming urge to just tie you down to this bed and give you a reason to do so.”

Shit. This woman made me weak. And the moment I lost control of my own weight, she took advantage of it, inverting our positions so she was the one on top, while managing to keep my cock nestled deep inside of her.

“Do you want to cum, sweetheart?” Hearing the filthiness that spilled out of her lips only made me hotter and hotter, my hands flying up to hold her waist as she began to ride me. “Tell me just how badly you want it. Say it, or I’ll leave you right here, right on the edge of bliss, and I’ll cum on your thigh instead.”

I heaved loudly, trying to force my own tongue to work, but the sight of her breasts bouncing with her movements was too hypnotizing. I would never regain full control of my body again, I realized, for as long as she wanted to keep me around. But instead of feeling lost, like I did when the Winter Soldier took over, all I could feel was peace.

She wanted me. She wanted my body, my soul, every part of me. Despite every missing piece, every scar. Everything anyone had ever done to me, everything I’d done to so many. And I’d gladly give it all to her, forever.

“Please, please let me cum, ma’am.” The name left my lips before I could realize, but it made her smile. And right then, I knew I’d done the right thing. Her movements picked up, her hand searching mine to guide my thumb to meet her nub, and as soon as I started rubbing it, she gasped in the most melodic of sounds.

“Cum for me, James. I wanna feel you cumming inside of me.” Jesus fucking christ. I didn’t have a choice, my body reacting to her calling like she was a siren and I was helpless. I felt helpless. It wasn’t difficult to see that I liked it, though. I liked being under her control. I liked how she pulled me apart and held me in place all at the same time.

“If you don’t take your thumb away, so help me God.” Her voice broke me out of my thoughts, realizing her chest was heaving with the effort to breathe properly now that she’d reached her climax with me. I smiled sheepishly before adjusting on the bed, right when she climbed down from my body, and a whine escaped my chest despite my better wishes, making her look at me with an amused smile.

“I’m sorry, I just… I kinda miss you already.” Her smile grew bigger, her eyes twinkling under the moonlight as she leaned over me to kiss me, and I couldn’t help it. I just had to hug her closer, have her falling on top of my chest just so I could invert our positions and kiss her some more.

“I want something that’ll show them I’m yours.” I admitted once she pulled away to gather her breath, and her eyebrows rose in surprise, but also interest, I could tell.

“Like a collar?”

“I was thinking more like a love bite, but I don’t mind.” Her giggle was the most adorable sound in the universe, I was sure of it.

“Baby, I’ll let you fuck me in front of them, if it’ll help your insecurity,” she soothed me, and the thought of having everyone see us together, fully understand that I belonged to her, electrified me. “You’re mine now. You can be damn sure if anyone tries to flirt with you, they’ll have to deal with me. And I’ll make sure they know I’m yours and only yours if they try to chat me up.”

The thought made me smile, and I laid back on the bed and pulled her to rest against my chest, my hand instinctively coming up to play with her hair. “I can get used to that.” We stayed like that for a while, just breathing in each other’s presences, relishing in the comfortable silence between us, until I felt the need to break it.

“Can I kiss you again?” I felt her smile against my skin, before she pushed away to reach for me and connect our lips once more. God, I don’t think I’d ever get used to knowing I could have this anytime I wanted. “One more,” I begged when she pulled away, and she pretended to think for a moment before shooting me a mischievous grin.

“Only if you come fuck me in the shower.”

The only thing I could think to say in response, as I watched her strut in the direction of the bathroom, was “Fuck, you’re sexy.”

#my fics #bucky barnes smut #smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes reader inserts #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes oneshots #I'm gonna reblog it with the taglists later

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mirohlixie · 3 years

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Love Talk (Hyunjin)

Hyunjin x Reader (gender-neutral) Genre: Smut, one-night-stand Words: 3.3k

Summary: Y/N accidentally bumps into a stranger in the club. The two of them have a dance-off and leave the club together. The two strangers end up sleeping with each other without even speaking the same language, or knowing each other's names.

Content Warnings: Alcohol, Marking, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Sex.

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!Disclaimer!

I don’t know any Korean, so the Korean that appears in this fic comes from google translate and I cannot vouch for it being free of mistakes. Furthermore this fic works with the idea that Hyunjin doesn’t know any English at all. This only so that the plot fits with the song! I know reality is different, don’t worry!

It was Saturday night and this week was no different than any other week. Y/N and their friends were at the club, the one they usually went to on Saturday nights to get drunk, dance and leave with a stranger. It had become a ritual they went through every single week, and nobody was complaining so why would they leave it behind?

They walked in, wasting no time before getting on the dancefloor and dancing like there was no tomorrow. Most people were shy and only danced a little. Y/N and their group weren’t. They knew no shame and definitely were not scared to show off their moves. People often looked at them, but they didn’t mind at all. The DJ played a nice song and a lot of dancing started to occur.

After a little while Y/N heard some commotion at the entrance of the club, but they were too focused on their surroundings and the music to care enough to check what was going on. If it was of importance, it would become clear soon enough anyway.

“Look at you go,” Y/N’s friend shouted over the music. “You got moves,” Y/N smirked and moved their hips, feeling one with the music. Dancing had always been a talent of theirs and they loved being able to do it in such a casual setting without too many people giving weird looks.

After dancing for a bit, the group stumbled to the bar for a drink. It is truly like a work out. They decide on a round of shots and throw them back before getting a more substantial drink of choice. While drinking, Y/N looks around to see what the commotion earlier was about, but there’s nothing that seems to be different from the usual. They shrug it off and decide to let it go again.

The group drinks a couple more drinks before heading back to the dancefloor again with a drink in hand. The music’s gotten even better so everyone is absolutely enjoying themselves moving to the rhythm. More and more people are starting to gather on the dance floor now and it’s getting quite crowded.

That’s not going to stop Y/N though, cause they didn’t mind a few people around them when dancing. They kept swinging their hips and shaking their ass to the beat as they tried to work their way around all the other people.

Their friend smiled at them as they swung their hips in sync. Y/N did a step back to create more space between them and then saw their friend’s eyes go big, their word forming the word “watch-”, but it was already too late; Y/N had bumped into someone. They turned around and looked right into the eyes of a stranger. He looked slightly annoyed, as he eyed Y/N head to toe. He was taller than them, so his looking down at them seemed even more apparent than it was supposed to be.

“조심해!” He yelled over the music. Y/N squinted their eyes, looking at him in confusion.

“What?” They yelled back, not having understood a word he said just now. The stranger rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak again, repeating “조심해!”

“I don’t speak whatever language that is!” Y/N said. The guy looked Korean, but Y/N didn’t want to make an assumption like that.

“신경 쓰지 마,” the guy said before giving Y/N one last glare and walking back to the little group he was dancing with. They all looked really stylish and important, but Y/N had no idea what they should know them from. The gey they’d bumped into had long blond hair, reaching over his shoulders. His face seemed almost unreal, which annoyed Y/N. How could one person be so flawless? It was unfair.

He seemed to have forgotten about what had just occurred, so Y/N decided to do the same and continued dancing. They were a little more careful than before, scared to bump into someone again. As the evening progressed, more drinks were bought and consumed, and everything started to become a little fuzzy. In a good way, though. The music was more intense and the moves Y/N made even more careless and passionate. More people started to watch, but not in a bad way. They seemed generally impressed. This caught the attention from even more people, and also one person in particular.

When Y/N awoke from their daze a little and looked up, they saw the guy from earlier looking at them again. His eyes had narrowed into a glare as he eyed them up and down. He didn’t want to show it, but he was clearly impressed, if not interested. He approached Y/N as they kept dancing, sending him a challenging look. What did he want anyway? Why was he looking at them so intently?

Y/N’s friends moved aside and made way for the tall guy, which made Y/N look at them in surprise. What the hell was going on here? Then, right before they could fully process what was happening, he started to move to the music as well.

God damn, he was a great dancer. He moved to the music smoothly and moved his hips right on the beat. This wasn’t the first time he was doing it; he must’ve been a professional dancer or something like that. Y/N didn’t shy away, though. He clearly was challenging them to a dance battle, so a dance battle he would get.

The people didn’t exactly form a dance circle around them, but somehow it made Y/N think of those when they saw everyone gathering around to watch. The guy must be some kind of important person, or people wouldn’t be this invested. It was hard to believe this particular dance battle interested them all this much.

“Come on Y/N!” One of their friends cheered and Y/N saw this as a sign to give their all. As the music kept going, the two danced their hearts out. The stranger was really good, but Y/N was absolutely not giving in to that. They were determined now, even if only for the guy’s denigrating gaze. They swung their hips to the beat and made fitting movements with their arms and legs.

They were evenly matched and the crowd around them grew bigger and bigger. They were cheering for both sides, which gave Y/N new strength as the stranger stepped closer and grinded against them, throwing them off a little due to the sudden proximity. They stepped around him and gave him the same treatment, making him move his hands to their hips. They heard him take a sharp intake of breathe and smirked to themself, knowing what they were doing to him.

The music changed once again, the crowd began to dissipate as the dance fight grew less intense. Y/N only vaguely remembered this song, but they were familiar with the beat.

“You got me sayin', you got me sayin'. How you doing? Tell me what's your name, what's your sign,” the singer sung. Y/N swung their hips, slightly grinding into the stranger as he tightened his grip on them, digging his fingers into their skin.

“진정해,” the stranger spoke in their ear, making Y/N giggle softly as at the same time, the lyrics of the song were “Baby we two distant strangers. I know you don't speak my language, but I love the way she's talking to me.” It was all very convenient. Y/N turned around, pressing their chest against the stranger’s as he moved his hands to their waist. They draped their arms over his shoulders and bit their lip when they realized how close their faces were now. “I can hear it callin'. From where you are. Loving the way you wanna talk. Touch me tease me feel me up.”

“당신은 그렇게 나쁘지 않을 수도 있습니다,” the stranger said, making Y/N look at him. They shook their head and chuckled softly before answering.

“I have no idea what that meant, but I think we should kiss,” apparently the stranger could understand the word ‘kiss’, cause it only took him a split second to smash his lips on theirs. They kissed back just as eager, though, wrapping their arms around his neck. They heard whooping from their friends and stuck up their middle finger behind the stranger’s neck.

As the song progressed, the kiss became needier and more lustful. The stranger bit Y/N’s bottom lip softly and tugged on it before pulling back slightly, making them long for more.

“Wow,” Y/N whispered, a universal word the stranger knew too, as he smirked in a cocky way.

“내 집으로 돌아 갈래?” The stranger asked, making Y/N furrow their eyebrows. They really did not understand what he was saying whatsoever. The stranger squinted his eyes in thought before speaking again. “My hotel?” He repeated, in broken English now. Y/N gasped quietly and nodded, letting him take their hand as he led them out of the club. In that moment, they didn’t really care if their friends knew where they were. They’d probably assume where they went anyway.

Luckily, the hotel wasn’t too far away and when the two got to the elevator, they couldn’t manage to keep their hands off each other. When nobody else entered the small cabin, Y/N was pushed against the mirror wall. Eager lips found theirs as they made out in the fancy space. Y/N was ready to lose themselves in that kiss, but soon enough the bell rang, indicating they’d reached the floor they were supposed to be on.

Stranger dragged them out of the elevator, down the hall to his hotel room. He quickly fumbled with the keycard before opening the door and pushing Y/N against it when he’d closed it.

“나는이 일을하는 바보 야,” he muttered before connecting his lips to Y/N’s neck, immediately sucking and nibbling, creating marks that would definitely still be visible tomorrow.

“I don’t understand a fuck from what you’re saying, but it’s kinda hot,” Y/N admitted, tilting their head to the side to give the tall guy more access to their neck. He absolutely attacked it, leaving marks everywhere before moving his lips down their collarbones, stopping at the collar of the top Y/N was wearing. He looked into their eyes, asking for permission with silent words. Y/N nodded and before they could blink, the top was off and the stranger was kissing down their chest, leaving hickeys all over there too.

Many hickeys from both parties later, the stranger had somehow pinned Y/N under him on the bed. Their hands ran up and down his sides as they were entangled in another kiss. The only thing restricting them at this point, was their underwear.

His entire body looked so good under those clothes. He definitely looked trained, so the guess of him being a professional dancer hadn’t been that strange after all. All of this showed signs of years and years of intensive training. Y/N wondered how this would show in his skills in bed. He might’ve been really flexible, after all.

Y/N gently bit the stranger’s bottom lip, causing him to release a moan an be distracted for a split second. Y/N took this opportunity and pinned him under them on the bed. They left kisses down his torso, stopping at the waist band of his underwear before looking up at him.

The stranger, who was watching them as he bit his lip, nodded briefly, giving Y/N the okay. They pulled his boxers down and were immediately greeted by his large member springing up and slapping against his stomach. They gasped audibly, earning a cocky chuckle from him. They rolled their eyes and licked a strip up his shaft, eliciting a suppressed moan from his lips. He leaned his head back on the bed as they wrapped their lips around his tip, sucking playfully as his moans turned into whines and his hips bucked up.

“놀리지 마,” the stranger muttered and Y/N assumed that he didn’t wish to be teased. They giggled around him before letting their head sink down around his length. They slowly started bobbing their head, occasionally swirling their tongue around the long shaft. Stranger was evidently enjoying this, since his content moans were hard to mask. They gently grazed their teeth over his sensitive skin, making him whimper. A quick “fuck” escaped his lips, making Y/N almost jump in surprise since they weren’t used to hearing an English word from the stranger.

He began to twitch in their mouth when they hollowed their cheeks to increase the pressure and they quickly withdrew their head from his member, earning an aggravated groan from him.

“Not yet,” they whispered with a satisfied smirk. This made the stranger regain the confidence he had earlier as he flipped them back over. He moved his head down to remove their underwear with his teeth. This sight was so hot that Y/N got even needier on the spot. They needed him and they needed him now. No more teasing, no more playing.

“Fuck me,” they said boldly, sure that even the most no-English-speaking person should understand those words. Luckily the stranger did, as he moved back up, grabbing a condom from the nightstand and ripping the wrapper before rolling it onto his hard length. He hovered back over Y/N, dipping his head down to catch their lips in a feverish kiss before lining up with their entrance.

“Ready?” He whispered with a thick accent. Y/N nodded, looking up at him while biting their lip. He slowly pushed himself into them, earning moans from the two of them. His large member stretched Y/N out good and hit just the right places. Their tight hole encompassed his length perfectly and he waited for a second to help them adjust before slowly moving in and out.

Y/N dug their nails into the stranger’s back, making him groans. They made a mental note: he definitely enjoyed pain. They weren’t sure why they were even making this mental note, since it obviously was just a one-night stand and they weren’t even sure if they would stay the night after this.

Y/N wrapped their legs around his waist, urging him on to go faster, which he did. He snapped his hips forward in a sharp movement and grazed over their sweet spot. They moaned out, only encouraging him to go faster and harder. It was passionate but also rough at the same time. It was perfect. Exactly what Y/N had expected from this stranger with the amazing body.

He sped up more, clearly chasing after both of their climaxes which were approaching fast. Y/N didn’t know how much longer they would last as they started to clench around his length.

“C-close,” they moaned in his ear. “P-please,” this much he understood, as he somehow moved even faster and harder. He pulled all the way out before slamming back in, making Y/N cry out in pain and pleasure. They wouldn’t last anymore and by his twitching they could tell that he wouldn’t either. They whimpered as they felt their orgasm wash over them, clenching around him strongly, sending him over the edge as well. He groaned in their ear, connecting his lips with theirs as he eased the both of them off their highs. They stayed like this for a little, steadying their breathing as their bodies trembled in pleasure and satisfaction.

“Wow,” Y/N muttered when the stranger eventually rolled off them and laid back next to them. Neither of them spoke for a while as the minutes passed. Y/N was unsure of what to do next. Were they supposed to leave now or? They sat up slightly, ready to get dressed. However, the stranger grabbed their shoulder.

“Stay,” his thick accented voice muttered. He was clearly struggling to find more words, but he didn’t know what else to say. All they knew is that he didn’t want them to leave. Not now, at least. His fingers started to trail over the skin of their arm tenderly. Y/N scooted closer to him and he wrapped his arms around them, holding them close to his chest as they listened to the steady beating of his heart.

They fell asleep like this, forgetting about the world around them. It wasn’t until the next morning that Y/N was woken up by a loud knock on the door and some voices in the hallway. With their head pounding from the hangover, they quickly got dressed and ready to leave. The stranger woke up too, panic immediately taking over his face. He quickly got up and dressed as well before opening the door. Y/N hid behind him, silently cursing him for opening the door while they were still here.

It was the friends he had with him at the club last night and they seemed surprised when their eyes roamed over the two of them.

“Uh, hello,” one of them said, his voice covered with an Australian accent. He had freckles and his eyes were friendly. “We are here to pick him up for an interview,” an interview? So he was some important person, then?

“Oh- Of course,” Y/N said. “I have to go anyways,” stranger’s friends sent him knowing looks and he looked away, blushing a little. Y/N smiled at him and nodded their head before grabbing their purse and leaving the room.

“Well, goodbye,” they said. “I had a good time,” they knew that probably nobody except the guy who’d just spoken English to them would understand, but they reckoned they couldn’t leave without saying it.

Stranger nodded back and stopped Y/N before quickly whispering something they couldn’t understand to his Australian friend.

“Um- He wants to have your number,” the latter said. “He wants to talk to you more, if you’re okay with that,” Y/N was surprised, but nodded before quickly writing down their number on a piece of paper that was handed to them. They smiled, handing the note to their one night stand, before saying a quick goodbye before actually leaving.

“What your name?” They heard him calling after them.

“Y/N,” they said over their shoulder, smiling briefly before taking the elevator down and walking out through the main entrance of the hotel. They realized they’d forgotten to ask him for his name, but alas, it was time to go home. When they got to the pavement, they were crowded by cameras and microphones. They looked up in surprise, blinking against the flashing lights. What was going on here?

“Miss, miss,” one of the people behind the microphones said. “Is it true you came back here with Hyunjin last night?”

“Who?” Y/N asked, for a moment forgetting who or where they were due to all the attention that was placed on them right now.

“Hyunjin, member of Stray Kids? The popular K-pop group?” The person said, looking at Y/N as if they were stupid. Member of the what now?

“Popular K-pop group?” Y/N repeated.

“They’re known worldwide,” the interviewer said, clearly growing impatient.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Y/N shrugged them off before quickly making their way to a cab and giving him the directions to bring them home. So their hook-up was a celebrity? A K-pop idol? Woah, no wonder he’d been such a great dancer. Hyunjin… They definitely had to look him up when they were home. What kind of shit had they gotten themselves into now?

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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years

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an icarus and his sun: chapter 8

A/N: hello i have returned!! this chapter was weirdly difficult for me to write, but from here on out i think the writing will go much smoother! but unfortunately i do have classes to be worrying about soon, so who knows how much time i will have to write. but still!! very excited about this fic and how you guys will react to upcoming events >:) (plus i added some implied nature wives (katherine and shelby) to this bit so this fic is basically turning into me making empires smp gayer) also check out this stunning art of chapter 5 by @artanogon! and if you wanna make art of this fic, you absolutely can, just be sure to tag me so i can see it!

Warnings: depression of the heartbreak variety, past violence

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

Jimmy was trying his hardest to not be mopey as he helped Katherine with rebuilding. He knew that he had promised that he would help her- but his own confusing feelings about Scott, his lack of building know-how, and the dejected look Katherine had as she looked at the slight crater where her castle used to be had Jimmy feeling far out of his league. But he put on a brave face- he needed the distraction, after all.

They began with filling in the crater, mostly silent as they moved dirt over with their shovels. Then once the ground was level, they could begin with setting up the framework of the castle. They spoke more to each other then- but it was mostly Katherine telling Jimmy where to put the support beams. Jimmy wanted to say something, anything to break the tension and melancholy air- but he couldn’t think of a single thing to say to Katherine that didn’t lead back to the tragedies they had experienced. Jimmy wished that Joel or Lizzie were there- but they were off gathering more materials for Katherine’s castle, and probably wouldn’t return until nightfall. So until then, it was just Jimmy and Katherine, silently stewing in their respective sadnesses.

Luckily- or maybe unluckily- someone much more chipper than either of them came along. Jimmy almost didn’t recognize her at first- but quickly realized that the figure approaching them was the mushroom gnome queen, Shrub. Or Shelby-she had said they could call her that too. She was dressed far more casually than she had been at the ball, a polka-dotted red kerchief tied over her head, brown overalls over a green shirt, and red boots with white polka dots. She had a bag slung over her shoulder, and Jimmy could see the tops of mushrooms peeking out of it.

“Um- hello! I- I wanted to offer some gifts from the Undergrove, maybe they could help with rebuilding! Or they could just look pretty- or just be a peace offering- or a gift of sympathy for what happened,” Shelby rambled, seeming just as skittish as she had at the ball, but was less afraid and more excited. Katherine set down the beam she was holding, and gave Shelby a small smile.

“The gift is much appreciated, thank you. It was nice of you to stop by- I apologize for the appearance of the Overgrown. Usually it’s prettier here,” Katherine said, looking over her lands for a brief moment before focusing back on Shelby.

“Oh! Well, what I saw of it at the ball, your empire is lovely! I’m sure it will be back to its former glory soon… if you’d like, I can help! I’m good with plants and I’m not a bad builder!” Shelby offered with an encouraging smile. Katherine practically glowed at the praise of her empire, and smiled back.

“I’d love to have your help- it’s just been me and Jimmy working all day, and most of our time was spent filling in the crater. Some extra hands would definitely help things go faster,” Katherine replied, gesturing at the land around her. Shelby beamed back at her, setting down her bag of mushrooms.

“Then I’m more than happy to help! We gnomes are small but mighty, just tell me where to lug these beams around and I’ll do it!” she chirped. Katherine blinked in slight surprise at her eagerness, but looked over to the stack of beams beside them.

“Well, there is one that needs to go across those two over here for the entrance. If you’re as strong as you say, then maybe you can help Jimmy with getting it up there- I’ll set some scaffolding up so you guys can reach it,” Katherine explained, going over to where two beams were upright and doing just that. Jimmy watched her set up the scaffolding for a moment, until he felt a pair of eyes on him. He turned and looked down to Shelby, who quickly looked away once she realized she had been caught staring.

“Is everything okay? You seem jumpy,” he asked, brows furrowed in confusion. Shelby chuckled nervously.

“Oh. Well- you see, gnomes can’t swim. And I’m kind of afraid of the water and water related things because of it. But you and the ocean lady seem like really nice people! So… sorry for being jumpy. It’s a habit,” she admitted sheepishly. Jimmy let out a good-natured laugh.

“I mean you’re right to be spooked by Lizzie, she can be scary when she wants to be- but most of the time she’s very nice! And trust me, there is not a single threatening thing about me,” Jimmy said, tone turning a bit rueful at the end of his statement. Shelby frowned.

“The guy with the goggles and his friend sure seemed to think otherwise, why else would they bother you like that?” she asked. Jimmy blinked in surprise at that.

“You… you think Fwhip and Sausage are afraid of me?” he asked in disbelief.

“Well… not afraid, but definitely threatened. I’ve seen it before, back where I came from. You’re someone who won’t bow to people easily, and people like them don’t like that,” Shelby explained with a shrug. Jimmy considered this for a moment.

“Huh. I guess… I never saw it like that before,” Jimmy said, a small smile coming to his face.

Their conversation was ended by Katherine waving them over, and Jimmy and Shelby picked up one of the beams to carry over to where the scaffolding had been set up. Shelby was surprisingly strong for her stature, and carrying around the beams and placing them where they needed to be was much easier than before she had arrived. It was less quiet with Shelby around too, as she cheerfully asked questions about their empires, as well as sharing some things about her own empire. But then there was one question that caused Jimmy’s blood to freeze in his veins.

“So you said that Joel and Lizzie were getting more building materials, but what about your partner? Is he with them too?” Shelby asked, and for a moment, Jimmy was confused.

“My… what?” he asked.

“The elf guy you were dancing with at the ball! You’re very cute together, by the way,” Shelby continued, completely oblivious to the tension in the air her statement created. However she soon noticed Jimmy’s pained expression, and it was her curious smile changed to a concerned frown.

“We uh. We were never together. And he betrayed us,” Jimmy said stiffly.

“Oh- oh I’m so sorry. You guys had just looked so happy together, I had just assumed- I’m sorry,” Shelby rambled, and Jimmy gave her a weak smile.

“It’s alright. I guess I was kinda happy- but it was never real. Not for him, at least,” Jimmy replied, throat feeling tight. He hadn’t really meant to burden all of his issues onto Shelby, but his mouth was moving a little faster than his brain was at the moment, and he couldn’t hold back his words.

“Well- well then that guy is missing out! You seem great, and he gave you up for what, tactical gain or political advantage or something?! He doesn’t deserve you!” Shelby declared, hands on her hips as she smiled up at Jimmy confidently. If someone he barely knew had so much confidence in him, then why shouldn’t he? Jimmy smiled back at Shelby.

“Maybe you’re right,” he conceded. Shelby gave him a half laugh, half playful scoff.

“Of course I’m right! Now c’mon, this castle isn’t gonna rebuild itself!” she chirped, heading over to the stack of beams. Jimmy could only stare after her for a moment, dumbfounded. Katherine seemed just as amazed by the gnome’s boundless positivity, a smile growing across her face.

“She’s spirited,” Katherine murmured. Jimmy chuckled.

“Yeah, you two are like birds of a feather,” Jimmy murmured back.

"We both are definitely nature-oriented," Katherine added with a chuckle. She looked at Shelby fondly for a moment, until her expression turned into a frown as she noticed something in the sky. Subconsciously her hand started reaching for Jimmy’s, and he took it as he looked up to the sky with her. Two figures were flying in- and the tension in Jimmy’s shoulders relaxed ever-so-slightly when he recognized them as Pearl and Gem. But he still gave Katherine’s hand a gentle squeeze all the same.

“What’s going on? Are we under attack again?!” Shelby asked anxiously, coming over to stand beside them and look up at Pearl and Gem flying in.

“Don’t know yet- they weren’t directly behind the explosion… but they are allied with the people who were,” Katherine said apprehensively. Shelby looked down from the sky, frowning in concern- and upon noticing Jimmy and Katherine’s joined hands, she grabbed Katherine’s other hand with a comforting smile. Katherine flushed slightly, but smiled back at Shelby gratefully.

“Please don’t be alarmed!” Gem shouted as she came in for a landing. Frankly, that didn’t make Jimmy feel any less alarmed.

“We aren’t allied with Fwhip and Sausage anymore. We don’t want any part of what they’re up to,” Pearl clarified, landing beside Gem.

“Really?” Jimmy asked warily. Gem looked to Jimmy with an open, pleading expression.

“I meant what I said when we told you that we didn’t know what Fwhip was up to. He left myself and Pearl completely in the dark, while Sausage and Scott were the only ones who knew about the full plan. But even then, I don’t think those two had the full picture, they looked surprised that we hadn’t known about the TNT. The point is- Pearl and I were tired of being part of an alliance that lied to us, and lied to us to hurt others! Katherine- if I had known what was going to happen, I would have never gone along with it and would have tried to put a stop to it,” Gem explained, turning her focus to Katherine as she spoke.

“So… you two are… on our side then?” Katherine asked slowly. Pearl gave her a gentle smile.

“If you’ll have us, yes. We also figured you could use our help rebuilding,” Pearl replied. Katherine looked to Jimmy, as if she was asking for his opinion. Jimmy blinked, and looked at Pearl and Gem. They seemed… candid, at least. But after Scott… Jimmy wasn’t sure who he could trust anymore besides his steady allies. However, they weren’t Scott. And furthermore, it really wasn’t his call to make. It was Katherine’s.

“It’s your empire, Katherine. If you don’t want them here, then just say the word. But you won’t get a fight from me if you do want them to help,” Jimmy said gently. Katherine smiled, and looked back to Pearl and Gem.

“I would absolutely appreciate your help. We’ve almost got all the framework for the castle set up- but having someone with wings help us out with some of the taller parts would be lovely,” Katherine said. Pearl beamed, and Gem clapped her hands excitedly. Gem came closer and Katherine let go of Shelby and Jimmy’s hands to talk over building plans with Gem, Shelby following after her and listening as well. Pearl, however, walked over to Jimmy with a mildly timid expression.

“Pearl?” Jimmy asked.

“There’s something I think you should know,” she blurted. Jimmy blinked in surprise, tilting his head to one side in confusion.

“I… okay,” Jimmy said semi-apprehensively. Pearl took a deep breath, like she was unsure of how to continue.

“Gem and I just came from a meeting with the Wither Rose Alliance. Well… it wasn’t much of a meeting, Gem and I broke off ties with the alliance pretty quickly and then left. But… there’s a… there’s something about Scott,” Pearl explained slowly. Jimmy tensed, swallowing nervously.

“Oh?” Jimmy asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“Like I said, Gem and I didn’t stay long so I don’t know for sure- but there was something off about Scott. He just… didn’t seem himself. I think he was just as unhappy with Fwhip as we were with him. I… I just know he meant a lot to you. And I think you meant a lot to him too. I just… I don’t want to get your hopes up, but maybe… maybe you should give him a chance,” Pearl continued. Jimmy’s mouth fixed into a firm line.

“It’s a nice thought… but I don’t think I can trust him anymore. Not after everything that happened,” Jimmy said, throat tight as he tried not to cry. Part of him really wanted to hope that maybe there was some sort of misunderstanding, that Scott really did care about him- but Jimmy couldn’t afford that kind of hope. Pearl nodded in understanding.

“That’s fair. Like I said… just thought you should know,” she said, before walking over to join Katherine in her discussion for the build. Then Jimmy- only feeling ever so slightly useless now that Katherine had so much more help- swallowed the tears that thinking about Scott caused, and joined them.

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