#and of course my brain had to go and make an x-men au out of it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

halcyone-of-the-sea · 9 months

Text

Songs That Sound Like Sea-Foam (III)

AU MASTERLIST || FINAL CHAPTER

PAIRING: Fisherman!John Price x F!Mermaid!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 7.1k

WARNINGS: Angst, blood, death, violence, swords & firearms, abductions, hurt/comfort, torture references, nakedness, needles, gore, etc.

A/N: Alright, and that's a wrap on this mini-series. Biker/mechanic!Ghost is next on the list.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You hit the water and immediately push back to the surface, ignoring the burning of your open wounds.

“John!” Your high and panicked call can’t be heard above the yells to arms and the distressed wails. “What are you doing?!” Bodies get chucked from the side of the ship and all you can do is watch as they meet the water around you—skin cut open and eyes dead.

While the sea was numbing your pains, your heart was hurting enough for all of them; hands flailing to try and help keep you above the waves. But everything was so dark, only the light far above giving you a sliver of perception.

“John!” You scream again, eyes snapping back and forth along the ship. Your arms burned with heat.

“Go!” The words ring out and make you cringe, graveled and ragged—an order. But how could you? Vile grunts and skin meeting skin sound out, no more shirking blade edges or the boom of pistols. Fists meeting ribs, bared teeth.

“The Mermaid was wearing tags! He’s part of the King’s forces!” The leader. “If we can’t have the beast, we’ll have the coin from a turncoat!”

“Deserter!”

“Traitor!”

“Tie him to the post!”

Your ears twitch and pull at the horrible words, lungs near hyperventilating and black waves going red. If you weren’t able to ingest water, the way your head was slowly sinking would have left you sputtering and choking.

What will they do to him? Why can’t I help? It was the only part in your life where you regret having a tail, because now you can’t save John in the same way he saved you. Your eyes lock helplessly to the upper deck, far, far above. You can’t drag yourself up or even find the energy to stay above water.

Your strength was waning quickly—you needed to be tended to; healed. But it felt worse than a betrayal to see not even a glimpse of John’s brown hair or his large arms. To not feel the hold he kept on you. You wanted his lips and his flesh to be pressed into you, to venerate your image as he always did.

A Hierei that worships at the shrine that is you.

“Curse you,” you say aloud to the men above. The ones that tie your raging love to a post; you hear his low growls and biting expletives like blades in their own fashioned way, the sea garbling your words. “Curse your greed and your violence!”

But no one listens, and with a heavy and weighed heart, you have to let your dead muscles rest as they give out completely against your will. Sunking under the battling waves, you feel like dead weight; no different than the various bodies around you that John had dispatched.

You felt useless.

Above you was John, being tied up and taken—taken to a King that wants your species dead. You don’t want to leave, but the current is snatching you away like seaweed, limp and broken. Whatever John had done to your wounds, the fabric of his shirt was holding fast to your shredded flesh, but it didn’t stop the agony or the inner conflict.

He was right above you…why aren’t you strong enough to help?

Your eyes flutter, hair and arms floating.

Everything grows dark, but John never once leaves your mind. Perhaps the Fisherman was worshiping you, but you did the same unto him.

The eyepatched leader’s words loop in your brain, paired with storm-blue eyes. Gentle praises.

“...I think he loves the beast!”

Your body sinks with the rest.

—

The sand under you is coarse and dry as your eyes barely open, chest rising and falling but shakily, stuttering in its course. Small noises groan in the back of your throat, fingers like stones beside your face.

Everything hurts, but something has woken you up. Noises. Muttered speaking.

“Now why would she have these?” There was a moment of clinking metal and a low huff.

You groan louder and curl into yourself more, only to stop when the tears in your flesh pull. Your lungs inhale sharply.

“Oh, Christ,” the accented voice is smooth as it gets closer. “Easy, then, Ma’am. Shite, I was hoping you’d stay under a bit longer, I’m not bloody done yet.”

Forcing your eyes open, you hiss at the burn of morning light, laying on your stomach with…your brows tighten…were you wearing a tunic? A hand meets the back of your shoulder and you cry out, jerking.

“Woah!” More force is applied to keep you down but it only makes you struggle more. “Please, I’m trying to stop the bleeding!”

You stall at this revelation like a bird, panting. Muscles tight, you cautiously look over your shoulder to weakly stare at whoever this man was.

Brown eyes meet your own, and a dark-skinned complexion over an oval face. They blink at you with concern and hesitation, sparing only a nervous smirk and a chuckle. You stare widely, saying nothing.

“I…I’m just trying to stop the bleeding. Whoever got you,” this man trails off, glancing down at your tail. “Well, they did some proper damage.”

“Who are you?” Your voice is damaged from all the screaming you’d done, cracking and frail. You stifle a cough and survey the land with frantic snaps of your orbs. This wasn’t your cove.

Where were you? What had happened to the ship? To John? Your hand travels to your neck but lands on nothing. It’s like the world stops turning.

The necklace.

“My name’s Kyle, Miss, but I’m just as well off being called Gaz—” Your hand snaps to his shoulder, wrenching him down in a violent slam to the sand; with a shove of your ailing body, you cross an arm over his chest to pin him.

Brown eyes widen, and one hand easily raises in a placating manner. You don’t bother to look at the other, your head broken into bits of instances and images of horror.

“Where is it?” Your lips hiss out. You didn’t know you could make a sound like that.

Kyle, dressed in a fine outfit of a Bookkeeper, furrowed his brows at you. He didn’t look off-put by your brashness, or by the fact that you were of the Merfolk.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am…I’m not following. Where’s what, exactly?” There was a glinting at his throat, and you snatched at it with a glare and snarl of ‘thief’ on your tongue.

A blade presses into your side and you freeze. Kyle stares up at you with a frown on his face, body tight. “I think you should let that go, Miss, yeah?”

The metal discs are the same as John's, but they hold a different name entirely.

“Kyle Garrick, Sergeant, 141st company under the King.”

“One Hundred and Forty-First?” You whisper in a hushed voice and the blade loosens from you. Mouth opening and closing, you forget for a moment what Kyle is. Your eyes go glossy with hope. “You know John?”

Eyelids blink at you in astonishment and all at once the knife is sheathed at his hip once more. Gaz gapes, his slight stubble shifting on his face as he talks slowly.

“Yes, I do…how do you know the Captain? No offense, but I didn’t peg him for the type to run off with…well…” he trails, chuckling. “Not run exactly, then, is it?”

You glower and push back, flinching at your aches but waste no time in speaking frantically to the man as your tail flaps. If he was on the same ship as John was, they certainly knew each other well; Kyle had to assist you.

“Please, you need to help me,” The man’s face goes serious and he pushes himself up, “—there’s been a terrible event. John has been taken, don’t you understand?” Your hands grasp at his collar, forgetting to ask about the missing necklace in your mounting hysteria. “They took him. They’re bringing him back to the King and it’s all my fault!”

You don’t know if it’s the pain or the fatigue, but your emotions spill from you in droves, silver tears falling like drips from a blacksmith's smelter to the beach of this foreign place. Your body feels unable to hold itself up—so much blood lost.

Gaz gains a sheen of panic at your state, gripping your shoulders lightly above the given tunic.

“Now, now, Ma’am, steady. You’ve lost a lot of blood, eh? We need to get you sorted.” But internally your words disturbed him. John had been taken? His Captain? And he had known a mermaid?

“I don’t need to be sorted,” you mock, shaking him, “I need my John back! And you’re going to help me.”

Kyle gazes around awkwardly, clearing his throat and trying to comfort you as his upper half gets forced back and forth.

“First,” he stops you with a firm squeeze on your shoulders, “we’re getting you stitched and wrapped, Ma’am. If what you’re telling me is real,” Gaz pauses, glancing at the sea lapping at your tail, “then I need to get in contact with the others.”

Your body slightly sags, panting and shaking. While you should have asked who the others were, your adrenaline was too great to allow you to think above the fact that Kyle was going to help you. He had known John—that was enough for you to know he was a good person.

“Easy,” the man mutters, face pulled in concern. There’s a moment of tense silence before Gaz shifts a hand to the pocket inside of his tweed frock coat, slipping to the side of his green notch vest. He blinks his brown eyes at you before he lightly takes John’s necklace from the depths of his clothes. Kyle presents them as your shoulders loosen with a small sliver of comfort. “I believe you were looking for this, yeah?”

He spares a friendly, boyish, smile.

Your fingers brush his as you delicately take the metal up, fingertips weeping with torn flesh. Staring at them, you bring the item to your lips and kiss it gently after a moment of agony, a few more tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Oh, John,” you whisper, “you fool, what have you done?”

“I’ll be needing to move you, Ma’am,” Gaz clears his throat and looks back to the grass-coated road. The beach where you had washed up was near the bottom of a slight hill, and along with sand, there were a lot of pebbles. The wind was chilled. “I was just finishing up with a temporary binding when you woke. We can speak more when I get the larger wounds stitched.”

You see his gaze fall down you once more.

“I’d think there’s a lot to catch up on.” Shuffling John’s necklace over your head, you allow Kyle to take bandages from his Gladstone bag which he had brought down from the road with him. He says he found you on the beach unconscious not five minutes before you woke back up as he takes out John’s tunic strips before packing the wounds with fresh material.

“You stopped?” You ask quietly, body shaking. “Why?”

“Well, I left the same time that the Captain did,” he explains, looping fabric around your tail as you shudder and clench your teeth at the long cuts over your scales. Kyle spares you a glance before continuing. “Same reason too. The minute innocent beings were being hunted, everyone in the One Hundred and Forty-First deserted. They weren’t too happy with us, I’d imagine. I do what I can to help anyone, regardless of species.”

Gaz pulls back and finishes up, brushing his hands on his folded legs and sighing.

“We all separated and led our lives the best we could—got jobs, hid ourselves, the like.” While the story was fascinating, as John was rare to talk about the King or his service beyond a clenched jaw, you truly were suffering from blood loss.

Every moment it became harder to keep your upper-half vertical and your eyes open. Gaz’s words slurred in your eardrums as the sand under your hands got pushed back by pressure like a rock being dragged. Your head must have swayed, because the next moment you’re being lifted with a grunt and a steadying of feet.

“Can’t say I’ve ever carried a mermaid,” Kyle grumbles to himself, blinking down at your form as our head rests limply on his chest. “Certainly not one that knows Price of all people.”

You focus on your breathing as he ascends the hill, going slowly and holding your form tight so as not to drop you. While not John’s size by any means, the man was still strong in a more lean and lithe way where your Fisherman’s was upfront and bare with it.

You’re carried down the trodden path to a lone house on the upper hill above the water, small and quaint, it’s only a single square room.

Truly this event speaks to your luck—how on earth had you found perhaps one of the only men on the planet that knew John and sympathized with magical creatures?

Kyle sets you back on his bed softly, pillows pressed into indents of your head and cheek.

“Alright then,” he sighs, “let's get this figured out, yeah?”

You’re offered food and water, but all you care about is sleep. Your tail hangs off the end of the bed and your fins ache with torn skin. Without even looking at your scales, you know they’re damaged immensely. Most will be left with great scars.

Merfolk could be called vain in their lifetime, and the sentiment wasn’t entirely untrue. You were beings of elegance and beauty—ethereal lustfulness hardwired into your DNA. Image was important to you, and this loss was great.

But the loss of John hurt more than any torture someone could inflict on you; any wounds. You needed him back.

As Gaz prompted you to tell your story, which you did with failing consciousness, your hand traveled to your necklace to grasp it tightly. Lips quivering. When the first push of the man’s needle entered your hard flesh, you never even felt it.

—

You awoke for the second time, once more, to the sound of speaking.

“Well, he’s sure gotten up to it while we’ve been away! Fuckin’ bastard.” This accent didn’t belong to Gaz, and thus your eyelids pushed back with slight unease. Had John’s Sergeant sold you out? With a struggle, you blink back to reality only to find a pair of bright blue eyes stuck on you.

For a moment you startle, those shades so similar to John’s that for a moment you had forgotten what had transpired. Then the pain in your tail strikes up and you balk back sharply.

“Soap!” Gaz hisses, grabbing the large and built man away from the bed. “Get the hell away from her, would you? Christ, she’s been through enough without having to look at that face when she wakes up, Mate.”

“What in the hell does that mean?” Soap, as he’d been introduced, was the epitome of a blacksmith—ash still on his square jaw and his large black apron tied at a stiff waist. His arms were as bulky as your head and while he was shorter than Gaz he made up for it in sheer muscle.

Blue eyes darken with annoyance before they swivel back to you, but they lighten just the same when they spot your fear-spiked expression.

“Sorry about that, Little Lady. Just curious, is all.” You swallow the saliva in your throat and turn to look at Gaz in question. “Not every day somethin’ like this happens.”

“Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish,” the man offers, rubbing at his neck apologetically. “Served with John and I. You can trust him.”

You blink and turn back to Johnny, and, sure enough, around his neck were the common silver discs that Gaz and John wore over the tunic and apron.

“A…” You try to remember what your Fisherman had told you about human customs. With a frown, you carefully extend a hand and hold it aloft while your tail rests and your other limb keeps you up. “A pleasure, Johnny.”

A wide grin meets your eyes and a hand is clapped into your own; shaking it firmly as yours remains limp.

“Ah, please, the pleasure’s all mine.” When his grip leaves you look down at the various stitches and thick wrappings around your body before thinning your lips and gazing back at Gaz. He stares and tilts his head when you lock eyes with him.

“Thank you, Garrick. I…I owe you a large debt.” He’s already shaking his chin at you.

“Negative, Ma’am,” Kyle denies. “The only thing we need to be focusing on is getting the Captain back. Simon should be along by the evening.”

“Sure the man’ll show?” Johnny raises a brow and stands to his full height, going over to the small table in the middle of the room and sitting down with a huff. He picks up a flagon and takes a sip of ale. “He’s far off cuttin’ stone.”

“I sent a rider out and said it was urgent. He should be getting it about now, yeah?”

“Well, hell, I’d sure hope so else we’re out of our favorite Ghost. Can’t have that.” You watch and stare at the ease these two converse with the other, years seem to bleed from their mouths like waves in water. They had it all figured out, and noticeably, they weren’t at all panicked.

“How are the both of you so calm?” You can’t help but ask. Brown and blue turn to furrow their brows at you.

“They took the bloody Captain. Only person worse than that to steal away would be Simon.” A chuckle. “I’m more worried about the bastards themselves than him.” And it was left at that.

At times throughout the day, Gaz would bring you bread to nibble on to help settle your stomach, water, and ale whenever you needed it. When the dryness of the air and the fireplace got too warm for you, Johnny would be the one to carry you down the hill to the water where you’d soak your wounds in the surf. In those moments you could finally take in the pure silence under the waves and let your anguish take hold.

But you always had to break the surface at some point, shimmy into the dry tunic that Soap offers with respectfully averted eyes, and let him carry you back with his bulky arms.

As it always did, the water let your wounds heal far faster than a man’s, though the aches were still intense.

John’s eyes would not leave you. His crown of stars or the lantern light on his face—the way he whisked you away from danger and put himself dead center into it. Keeping you to his large chest as he held aloft a sword in your honor.

“...I think he loves the beast!”

Oh, and you loved right back and you hadn’t told him.

It’s hours upon hours later when the door is shoved open as you sit up in the bed; tail limp and dim on the floor below. You look up in shock at the man whose frame nearly takes up the entire doorway, shoulders wide and thighs vast under work pants and a large tunic, cowl over his head and clasped with a brooch at his left pec. Under shined a deep brown gaze and pale brows, but his entire lower face was covered by cloth.

Intimidating, his visible expression was entirely blank. You wondered if perhaps a vampire had walked into this place without proper entry, but then you remembered the man Johnny and Gaz mentioned.

Simon. Ghost.

Well, he certainly fits the part, stone dust on his clothes and large boots stacked with scrapes. A Stonemason.

“There’s the man!” Johnny exclaims, raising his hand which has another cup of ale in it as he’d downed the other some time ago.

“Where’s Price?” Deep was Simon’s voice, and he spares you a glance but nothing more. Gaze falling down your tail with hidden flickers of intrigue and wafting back up to stop at John’s necklace. His brows pull in as he turns.

“Gone—taken to the King,” Gaz explains from where he leans against the fireplace, face serious.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon grunts, walking in and closing the door behind him. “Where was he last?” It’s mildly amusing to you that he doesn’t seem bothered or even surprised by a mermaid in Gaz’s home.

“Just off Harpies Nest,” Johnny pipes in, itching at shaved sides of his scalp. “Where the old beasts used to fly from.”

“I’m guessing she’s the reason for that, then?” Everyone was anxious to act, even you. These men were close, and while circumstance had forced them away from one another the loyalties still lay.

“Affirmative. Price’s been in good company, seems.” A stale glare is sent his way and he chuckles and puts up his hands.

“Is there anything we can do?” You ask, looking at each in turn. Seeming to still hold that ingrained ranking that all men in the service do, Johnny and Gaz look to Simon. Brown eyes blink slowly, turning to look at you in a narrowed thought.

After a while, he speaks in a monotone.

“They’ll be bringing ‘em to the castle to stand trial. We’ve already lost a day’s time and there’ll be no ship that can sail as fast as we need it to.”

“By land?” Gaz wonders. Johnny’s shaking his head.

“How do you expect we get the Lady through that?” Eyes turn to your lack of legs. Body stiff, you huff and grit your teeth. If they thought you weren’t going along, that was foolish of them.

“I can swim to the docks,” you pause, “but you’ll have to tell me the way, for I do not know it.”

John had talked about docks—places ships went to rest. You’re sure you can make it, even like this. You had to.

Johnny stares before he chuckles twice, sharing a glance with the others and motioning to you. “I like ‘er.”

Gaz and Simon look at one another with a side-eye, before Kyle sighs and shakes his head. Simon hooks his thumbs into his pants and huffs out, “Sure you’re up for that?”

“I’m helping John.” Pushing, you meet those brown eyes head-on and steel yourself. “I need him back.”

There’s no further fight, and Ghost takes everything you say at face value. “Fine.”

And that was that.

—

The plan was so stupid you wondered if these men had gone brain-dead, but inside the castle dungeons, John had no way of knowing that.

He frowned deeply as his pounding skull tipped back to connect with the cobblestone wall, blood dried over the right side of his face. A growl on his lips as the chains keep his hands high above him and hanging as his backside stays seated on the floor. His limbs had long since gone numb, circulation cut out in an uncomfortable state of numbness.

But inside of him, there was a sense of accomplishment despite everything. He’d gotten you away from dirty hands—away from hooks. Away from danger.

John could die happy with that.

On the ship, before he’d been brought to the castle, the crew had tied him to the mainsail mast with a ragged rope that had skinned his flesh in just minutes of the rocking waves. They’d taken his vessel as well, and all of his belongings were confiscated in the docks. From there it had been amused jabs at his stomach with fists and knife-throwing practice.

John had cuts along the sides of his arms and the meat of his thighs—clothes shredded and torn from blades. His forehead had a long gash from the scalp to the temple, dried now but pulling with red aggression.

The fisherman hums under his breath and thinks only of you.

It was a fact that you had brought music into his life; a melody of waves and scales that could not be denied. Songs that sounded like sea-foam and a lapping of a tail across the water. When he’d seen you that day from behind the black rocks, John had lost a piece of himself to your wide eyes and tilted head. That spark of connection.

He had never been so thankful for choosing a new place to cast his nets, because he’d unwittingly caught the greatest creature he ever could have—one people have been running after for years.

You.

John’s lips pull in a tiny smile, eyes going soft. Above him his chains rattle and his arms flinch, wounds burning, but for the life of him, he can’t stop smiling. Wherever you were, he hoped you were safe and that he gave you the best chance of survival. He hoped you could forgive him.

Footsteps echo off the ground, and John looks over to the iron bars of his cell stiffly, mask re-falling to his stern face like a curtain. Two guards in armor clink down the hallway, expressions hidden by hoods and cloth. One produces a rusted key from his belt and slips it into the door, the metal rattling as it gets forced back and forth until the telltale click signifies the opening of the lock.

“Finally letting me out, then?” John speaks dryly, voice holding a rasp.

No one answers, and soon John’s chains are dropped and his arms seized. Yanked up, the fisherman grunts in pain as his legs drag behind him across the cobble—being taken somewhere. Probably, if John had to guess, the noose.

Desertion isn’t something you can get out of shy of a life sentence; to hell or to a cell was entirely up to the King. And the King wasn’t entirely fond of John and his One Hundred and Forty-First.

John was forced out into the open courtyard, a dichotomy of brightly flowering bushes and expensive finery to the platform placed in the very middle. The brunette's lips thinned at the sight of the large and imposing body made of wood and rope belonging to the gallows, a grim reaper of earthly material. There would be no great fight from him, no roar of a death rattle, just a kicking of his feet and tight wheezes, but no more.

He knows his final thoughts will be of you—what you’re doing right now, how you’ll live the rest of your life. John hopes you don’t cry for him.

The two guards shove him forward, and already a crowd has formed below the viewing platform for the monarch himself, who sits in all of his finery. Wyvern leather for his gloves, unicorn horn for a scepter, and…John’s eyes go tight, scales that make up a crown of opal and gold. Vibrant scales.

Unmistakingly Merfolk, anyone who’s met one of the species would know it. It has the same shine as the one John holds in the pouch on his belt; the fisherman clings to the fact that, against all of it, you were still with him in even a small sense. You’d be with him.

So John grits his teeth and glares up to the dias defiantly as the guards hold him under the noose, shoving his head to the side to grab the rope. He feels no fear.

“Fuckin’ watch it, Muppet,” the fisherman hisses, snapping his head to the side to stare into the glinting brown eyes from under the hood. He pauses, brows furrowing. “What…?”

As his hands are forced behind him, they’re not tied as the excited murmuring from the crowd begins, the King’s forward-leaning attention.

They’re given a knife.

John hides his surprise and looks over to the other guard as he fits the noose over his neck. Amused blue, and around his neck the glint of silver discs.

“Oh, bloody hell, you’re takin’ the piss,” the former Captain growls lowly. He knows those damned eyes, just as he knows his former Lieutenant’s.

MacTavish and Simon.

“Chin up, Captain,” Johnny jokes under his breath hidden by cloth. “Show’s about to start. Let’s give ‘em a proper scare, yeah.”

Blue eye glare, but they lack the venom. A barred-teeth smile grows. How had this happened? Johnny steps back and goes to his side, the wood under their feet creaking. The crowd falls silent, looking to the King for the verdict.

The King’s fingers raise and John memorizes his face in that instant…because it’s only then that he sees Gaz.

Gaz, who was on the upper terrace of the courtyard’s walls, holding a musket with the stock trained to his cheek; body still and ready—tutored to a perfectly motionless trance. There aren’t any guards to be seen near him. It’s a moment of pure silence, a ruling energy. The crowd is waiting for the King to verbalize an answer that he’s never able to give.

As the monarch’s lips open there is an eardrum-bursting boom that shatters the call for John’s doom and instead spells his own in his very castle from one of his former men. A poetic ending, John would say, but he’s unable to verbalize it as he’s suddenly falling through the gallows hatch as Simon reems on the handle.

“Knife!” It’s all the Ghost yells in warning.

With a rush of air, there’s a split second to cut the rope before it breaks his neck, and with a snapping motion, John perfects it in an instant—instinct as sharp as any blade that could be put into his hand. He hits the ground with a loud grunt of pain and struggles to sit up until Johnny and Simon jerk at him from where they’d jumped down as well. Not a second too soon, as lead balls from rival guns were already hitting the gallows.

Not all the guards were dead, then, and apparently, the three had known that would be a possibility.

John would have to scold them later.

“What in the hell is going on?!” The fisherman barks, but he’s being dragged before he shoves their hands off of him and follows to where they beeline into the fleeing crowd.

“What?” Johnny belts out laughter. “No ‘thank you?’ We just saved your neck!”

“Left!” Simon shouts, and although John’s body can’t take much more, they all dart into the cover of the castle walkways. “Make for the docks—the Sergeant’s meeting us there.”

“Bloody fucking Christ!” John growls but quickly goes onto the most important topic. “She’s behind this, isn’t she?” Johnny’s smirk only confirms it.

“Proper girl you’ve got there, Gaz found her on the shore. Else we’d never have heard about it all before you were dead and gone.” John blinks at him. “Getting reckless without us, now?”

The former Captain ignores the remark. “Where is she?”

“Oi!” Ghost hisses, looking over his shoulder as the three hurry on as shouting rings from behind them. “Get your head in the game. Focus on not getting shot, yeah?”

Brown meets blue.

“You’ll see ‘er soon.” Simon ends, dead eyes shifting to a form that rampages through the hallway behind them. “Behind!” He calls loudly, and John ducks just as a knife is thrown with pinpoint accuracy. A sound of a body hitting the floor echoes over the distant screaming and calls of alarm.

The King is dead.

All of the men reach their destination by sheer luck and the knowledge of how to use a blade, cobblestone leading to open streets and back alleys. Finally, the wide stretch of sea was visible, and a shadow slinked out of a corner quickly.

“Hell,” Gaz blinks at them, “do you think I’ll ever be let back into the castle?”

Johnny pants a laugh. “You’ll be lucky to get into the province, ya sneaky Bastard. Fine fuckin’ shot.”

Simon looks at them. “Gaz, Johnny, get to it.”

They’re by the open water of the dock, long wooden walkways stretching out with ships shifting in the waves. John wonders if his boat is here in the back of his mind, but his eyes are already combing the waves greedily in search of you.

Were you here? Oh, he hoped you weren’t. You’d be placing yourself in the middle of a very real and present danger.

“Get to what?” John questions, looking at each man in turn. “What ‘ave you planned, eh? Seems I’ve missed the meeting where we decide to assassinate the bloody monarch in broad daylight.”

Gaz places a hand on his shoulder as he shimmies past. “Best to leave the heavy lifting to the ones who can stand fully, Captain.”

“Aye,” Johnny confirms. “You’ll want to be here more than anywhere, bet ya.”

Simon shares a look with the blacksmith and grabs John by one shoulder, leading him to the water as Johnny takes the other. The brunette blinks quickly in confusion and grunts an expletive.

“Get your hands off of me you pair of—!”

“Have fun!” Johnny and Simon both shove him into the water with a final push and dart off like wisps.

Water rushes into his ears, covering his head and soaking his clothes before it drags him under. John’s arms flailed to propel him back to the surface. A jolt later, his head is breaching the water with a venomous glare and a barked order on his lips to a vacant audience. The boys had already sprinted off to who knows where.

“Son of a…” John trials, weak legs kicking to keep him afloat. Something brushes his thigh as water drips from his nose, cleaning away the blood with a reddish tint to the liquid.

The fisherman startles, head snapping down just as your hands grasp at his abdomen, sliding up as you press your lips deeply into his in one swift motion. He gasps, grip instinctually moving to hold onto the small of your back.

You press into him tightly, pushing every emotion into the locking of your mouths with desperation and longing. Sighing deeply into the kiss, John melts into you as your tail brushes his legs, torn fins visible and shimmering stitches pulling at flesh. Scales glint somewhat brighter under the waves, water dripping along your shoulders and wetting your hair.

John brings you closer when he realizes it’s your form around him, eyes fluttering closed and fingers weaving behind the base of your skull. It’s as if the world stills for that quick and reverent second as if everything is right. The both of you break the kiss with soft eyes, and after a moment of staring your chest releases a chuckle; hands coming up to capture your fisherman’s cheeks, weaving through those beard hairs once more.

The brunette stares at you and lays his forehead into yours, not knowing what to say. A smile plays on his lips.

“...It seems my fisherman had more of a reckless side than I anticipated,” you speak for him, whispering into the air. Your eyes flicker over the cuts and bruises visible on his pale flesh and a flash of fear alights in your expression. “Oh, John…What have they done to you?”

“Just scratches,” the man reassures delicately. “It’s alright, Love. I’ll live.”

But you both know this conversation can’t happen here. With a few more pecks of kisses to his lips, you ask in an ethereal voice, “Do you trust me?”

Your hand is locked to his wrist, pulling him along the waters as your head tilts at him and tail sliding along his flesh.

John wastes no time. “Of course.”

Lips flicker to a small, loving, grin and then you drag him under the water.

—

“Do they hurt?” He asks you carefully, running a calloused hand along the tears in your fins you know will never heal fully. You sit on the rocks below Gaz’s home, the water still dripping off of both of your bodies.

Out farther in the water the three other men are sailing back in John’s fishing boat, a few minutes out. You blink down at him and move a hand to shift his jaw upward to you, humming.

“Not when you touch them like that,” confessing, you keep close to him, held tightly under the crook of his arm and breathing in that scent of rope and wood oil. You practically vibrate with comfort, all of your worries able to be put aside at last.

John looks down at you and chuckles, putting a deep kiss on your scalp and taking a deep inhale.

“Cheeky,” he teases. You smile.

“And yours?” Your voice speaks out in question as the water brushes your tail.

The man peels back to look down at you slowly. “Already better…I owe you, Sweetheart.”

Huffing, you shake your head, “You owe me nothing. The only reason you were there was because of me.”

John’s brows furrow, taking your chin in his fingers and tilting your head back to him. He stares into your eyes for a long while until your face starts to heat with emotion, blinking up at him innocently. His blues dart over the healing cuts and marks with hidden emotion.

“I’d do it again,” John whispers. “A million times over, you hear? I’d be a bloody fool not to.”

He kisses you as you both wait in the setting twilight for the others, bloody and beaten—more scar tissue than anything else—but still your John.

“Thank you,” he mutters into your lips, and then again when he nips at your flesh. The man plays with his necklace at your collarbone as he traces patterns in your scales and smirks when you shiver.

He wonders how he got so lucky when the others anchor the boat near the shore, hopping off and wading the rest of the way to the beach. John kisses your forehead and says he’d be right back.

You watch him with glinting eyes as he walks over to his men, taking each in a heartfelt handshake and conversing honestly. Your eyes blink at the care they display for one another and raise a hand when they peel off, back up to Gaz’s home to rest.

They reciprocate and disappear atop the hill.

What’s he doing? You ask as you watch John climb aboard his vessel and rummage around his fishing barrels, opening some and tossing the tops to the deck. Hands shifting along the rocks, you can’t hide the amusement or affection in your eyes at the sight of his ramping annoyance. What was he looking for?

Your fingers go up to play with his necklace and watch.

You can’t say you feel much heartache at the loss of your cove—even with the king dead, you were still hunted for your scales—though you had grown to see it in a new light. The place was only a home when John was there, and you knew wherever you went as long as he was there it would be alright.

The both of you wouldn’t let anything happen to one another.

John comes back carrying something tucked in cloth, a small parcel held in one hand and longer than it is wide. Your interest is immediately piqued, curiosity straining your eyes.

He holds it out to you with a mischievous glint and a smirk.

“Go on,” John motions. Blinking at him, your brows furrow as you carefully take the item from his hands, settling it in your lap before you shift the cloth away.

Your fingers go to cover your mouth, small gasp entering the air.

It was a golden box, engraved with movements that resemble lace and waves—shimmering in the low light.

“John,” you stutter, “what is…?”’

“Open it,” the man insists, kneeling down in front of you as if his muscles didn’t ache. “It’s the reason I was late that day.” John grunts, rubbing at the bottom of his beard and watching intently; crinkles beside his eyes.

You stare for a moment with burning tear ducts before you grasp ahold of the lid and open it after running a digit over the make.

Inside sits blue velvet and, strangely, your own scales, but atop that…the blinding gold of a pair of twin cuff bracelets—stones the same shade as your tail. It was perhaps the most elegant piece of jewelry you had ever seen.

For a solid minute you’re rendered speechless, mouth opening and closing as your tail hangs limp in the low tide. Chucking, John takes the pieces out and your ears twitch to the sound of your scales clacking together like glass.

“Why would you…” You can’t make sense of it.

John slips them over your wrists and you gape in wonder. They fit just perfectly.

You look up into your Fisherman’s face and feel tears drip down your chin. A hard hand comes to wipe them away as you laugh through a sniffle.

“Do you like them, then, Love?” He asks lowly, beard pulled back in a smile.

“Yes,” you say immediately, giggling. “How could I not? John, they’re lovely. Far too beautiful for me.”

The former Captain grunts and his brows pull in, frowning. “Now why would you say that?” He brings your hands to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. Can’t make me change my mind on that, eh?”

Your eyes bore into him, lips parted. After a moment your face feels like it’s on fire and you cover your cheeks.

John laughs loudly, grabbing your arms and lightly squeezing the flesh before taking your grip back down to your lap. You smile so widely you’re afraid your face might crack open.

“No need to hide,” he hums. “Let me see that face.”

“You’re good to me, John.” His face softens, wrinkles fall away, and his chest swells with pride. You kiss his lips and whisper, “I bare my soul to you.”

It wasn’t an ‘I love you’ but something far more precious.

The man’s face deepens with devotion, gruff figure more than easily leaning over yours as you’re carefully laid back to the tiny pebbles behind you—a hand behind your head and at the swell of what would be a hip.

In the darkening night, the sun shines its dying light across the waves just like the extending fingers of John’s firm grip; dragging you into him as sea-currents would. Wrapping you both in kelp and a salty grave. His voice is the grating of sand, the slide of a rope across a wooden deck.

“Then I’ll take care of it for as long as I live.”

Your fisherman damns you to a crypt of land and air, and you couldn’t worship it more. To live and to die beside him is to have existed just as you should have.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

2K notes · View notes

gatitties · 4 months

Note

Hello again my little butterfly 🦋✨

I came to place another order if that's ok! so, the scenario is a One Piece AU, where YN has an arranged marriage with Shanks, who is one of the richest men in town, but even so, YN decides to run away on her wedding day and throw herself off a bridge, but she can't, they find her and the family manages to bring her back to the wedding, Shanks is a man very much in love with YN, the moment he sees the sadness in YN's eyes when she walks up the aisle and puts the ring on her finger Shanks, he decides to conquer her and make her the happiest wife in the world! ( PS: Shanks is in a desperate situation when he learns that his beloved literally decided to throw herself off a bridge rather than stay with him, even little sad :( )

─Shanks x wife!reader

─Summary: you didn't want to be part of that ceremony, but you're not brave enough to run away either

─Warnings: slight mention of suicide attempt, modern AU

Oh hi hi love!! 🫶🏻🦋 you really like angst 😳

You ignored the perplexed looks of people, without stopping or thinking about a second option, you gripped the thin white fabric of your wedding dress harder so as not to trip over it, your shoes had long since disappeared so you could run more comfortably. You didn't want this, you didn't want to marry an unknown guy, no one thought about your feelings? It's not something your parents have the right to play with and you weren't going to let them ruin your life for financial convenience.

The moment adrenaline started to increase when you saw how you were now being persecuted, probably due to the absence in the ceremony that was taking place in the nearby church, you felt bad for the man you had been engaged to, since it wasn't his fault either and you didn't even know him enough to determine that he was a horrible person, but this decision was too hasty and you definitely didn't agree to this.

With your heart in your throat you ran until you tripped over your own sore feet, your breathing accelerated even more when you heard shouts of your name, taking courage again you stood up with a new impetus, although when you noticed how the distance between your pursuers was shortening more and more, your brain began to draw an extreme line in your thoughts.

Would it hurt? Could you die? Well, you were going to see for yourself what it felt like to jump off a bridge just to avoid facing an unwanted fate.

You quickly climbed onto the thick railing, stabilizing yourself standing on it, the next few seconds felt like a blur, like a part of memory that was difficult to remember, the fear of possible death and the indecision that comes with taking a long time to jump into the void made one of the guys chasing you caught you before you did something crazy.

The next thing you know after that, you were back in one of the private rooms of the church, being yelled at by your mother while your father looked on disapprovingly, you didn't care, nothing mattered to you at that moment, you let them go back to put on your makeup, you let them put new shoes on you and they changed the dirty surface fabric of your dress as if you were a doll, lifeless.

The ceremony returned to its course, Shanks waited awkwardly all this time at the altar, and when he saw you appear next to him his heart shattered, you weren't even looking at him, your eyes were lost somewhere far away in this unwanted reality, you lacked any kind of expression. He knew it, he knew how you felt, and yet he felt a little selfish for wanting to be your husband, for wanting to love you unconditionally, this marriage may be arranged, but he admired every drop of courage you poured out to prevent this event, every anger and every fierce response you gave to the first meetings between both families.

"Now… husband and wife, you can kiss each other."

You were both so absorbed in your own thoughts that you barely heard the priest's last words. Shanks was the first to step forward, holding your waist slowly as if he were asking permission and asking if it was okay to do so. You didn't move an inch, your eyes were still lost even when he sealed your fate with a cold kiss devoid of love, at least, lacking on your part.

Shanks knew it wouldn't be easy, that you weren't going to trust, that he wasn't going to receive tons of affection, even looks, he knew you were in a delicate state, after all, you'd rather almost kill yourself than get married.

You didn't bother with his emotions, you didn't bother to ask about his tastes, his hobbies or how his day had been, you just spent the days dead, repeating your routine, your life remained the same in a way, a few more numbers in the account. but in exchange of what? Your freedom and decision. You were hurt, you had been damaged by your own parents, your emotional wounds would not heal overnight and you would refuse to show a modicum of affection until you recovered.

Shanks knew that he would have to sleep alone for months, that an empty house would await him, that all his praise and gifts would be quickly discarded, but it doesn't matter, maybe you didn't look for him or you didn't want him, but as your husband, he would do everything he could to at least help you cope with the situation, he really loves you, but it won't be easy to win your affection because you never wanted this.

Your heart began to heal over time, it took a long time, you decided to completely break the relationship with your family, although before they were the only ones you could turn to, Shanks showed you that he would be there, that despite not being the husband that you chose as such, made you trust him, made you feel loved again.

He wasn't a bad man, he wasn't the most wonderful person in the world either, but he proved to be enough for you to stop feeling that emptiness inside your heart, step by step he managed to break the walls that you built around your emotions, Shanks turned out to be something unexpected in your life, someone you didn't think would be so important and he was able to grant some peace, some happiness back into your life.

Maybe you are not yet ready to accept that he is your husband, but you slowly began to meet someone you could voluntarily fall in love with.

#one piece #op #one piece x reader #one piece modern au #modern au #shanks #shanks x reader #x reader #husband shanks #wife reader #fem reader #request #one piece x fem reader #shanks x wife reader #sfw #reader insert #xreader #angst?

279 notes · View notes

kichiyosh1 · 11 months

Text

Deceitful youth

Modern au! scaramouche x f! reader

w//: yandere themes, suggestive, cross-dressing, obsession, photographs of you and your stolen things

summary: When you finally transfer to an all girls school, he was left with no choice but to take on a false female identity. Just so he wouldn't have to be separated from you, he'd do anything.

< previous | Masterlist | next >

He was obsessed with you from the start.

That day in grade school when you found him playing alone in a corner and you came to offer your hand out for him to take, inviting him to play with the other kids with a cheery smile on your face.

"It must be boring playing there by yourself, come on! i'll introduce you to the others!"

He only stared at your outstretched hand, before looking back up to meet your eyes, his eyebrows drooping before he averted his gaze a few seconds after.

"I don't like playing with the other kids, they think i'm weird..."

"What do they think they're talking about? there's nothing wrong with being weird! I mean, i think i'm weird, but there's nothing wrong with me, see?" you then proceeded to flail your arms out in the air, thinking that'd somehow convince him of your point.

'nope, there's definitely something wrong with you' he wanted to say, but he decided ignoring you would be the best course of action. Unfortunately, you weren't going to let him.

"Let me play with you then! whether if you're called weird or not, I dont mind, because you're definitely much cooler looking than the other kids!"

Cool? you think he was cool? better than the other kids even? he went silent after that, a little too flustered to say anything, but didn't make a move to pull his hand out of your grasp as you led him to who knows where.

if only those times with you could've lasted longer

As time went on you became more distant with the people around you, especially when it came to the opposite sex. He knew what your reasons were, you had told him before you decided to cut all ties.

"My mom... doesn't like the idea of me hanging around with other people, especially boys for some reason. Ah, it's not that I don't like hanging out with you! but, I'm really sorry."

Despite this, that didn't stop his on growing obsession for you. From grade school all the way to high school, he was content knowing you were still in the same school as him. Even if he had to keep a good distance away as to not scare you off. How his fingers nails would dig deep into the wood of the outdoor table when he sees you all buddy, buddy with your friend group, and to no ones surprise, only consisted of girls.

Your mother really did engrave it in your brain, the 'all men are evil' kind of saying, annoyingly enough. The way your face would deflate whenever a guy would walk by a little too close to you. Seeing you fear other guys brought a strange feeling of delight and relief to him. The chances of you getting a boyfriend was beyond negative and non-existent.

Maybe your mother wasn't all that crazy and weird after all. It's true, had it been anyone else, any other guy, they were undeserving of your time and attention. Who knows how they would have treated you, but not him, because only he could treat you right.

You had befriended him first, and in return he will continue to watch over you, as the loving boyfriend you didn't know you had and needed.

So why.

Why did you leave?

"It's been a week since [y/n] transferred to that all girls school."

A week? he's surprised he hasn't spiraled yet into madness.

"Tsk, she thinks she's better than us that she can just up and leave like that?"

'Annoying wench, of course she's better than you, in fact, you're not even close to her league'

"Man, good thing I'm a guy, If I wasn't I'd probably be there too."

'ugh, nobody's forcing you, who the hell cares what—'

he nearly choked

eyes bloodshot when he scanned the room, his bedroom. Why was he here? shouldn't he be in school? Wait, you didn't attend the same school as him anymore, so what even was the point of going?

He layed there with his arm over his forehead, his eyes devoid of any light, the same ones that were present whenever you'd step into a room.

If only he could follow you, he would, but how? If only the world would bend down to his wants, and rules be damned when it came to you. He zoned out the knocking at his door, faintly hearing the jingling of keys when his sister stepped into the room.

"Really? getting all worked up because of some girl that you can't even bother with your attendance anymore?" Raiden Mei, better than being scolded by his mother atleast.

"You're trespassing." said in such a robotic and raspy voice, his glare was received unfazed by mei. "Relax, I've got today off so I decided to be the oh so kind sister that I am and do everyone's laundry. Unless you want to continue living like the hermit that you are under all this pile of trash." He didn't bother replying, and neither did mei want to continue the conversation further, so silence enveloped the room as she rummaged through the pile of clothes that were on the floor.

but something caught her eye, at the foot of the heep was a pretty [f/c] t-shirt that had obviously no business being there. "This-","Don't touch that!" the grip he had on her was inhumane, he hovered above her with a look that clearly said 'don't'. Despite the burning sensation on her wrist, there wasn't a single sign of discomfort shown, instead it was disgust.

"So not only are you a creep," Her eyes wandered to the many pictures of you he had on his wall, she tried to the best of her ability to ignore whenever entering his room, "you're a thief too." She jerked her hand out of his grasp, leaving the t-shirt alone before quickly finishing up collecting his dirty clothes.

"Mind your own damn business","if it would make you feel any better, mom thought you were gonna be a girl, atleast she hoped you would be."

she rested her hand on the doorknob, pausing for a moment, causing scaramouche to raise a brow. "and that's going to help me feel better, how?"

"maybe if she continued believing you were a girl, maybe you would have been, if that came to be then i guess you would have been able to follow her." His breath hitched, the cogs in his head finally starting to turn.

The door to his room was already closed when mei let out a sigh, 'Could have been blessed with a sister, but I've been cursed to have this gremlin for a brother' she'd be lying if she said she wasn't concerned, whether if it was for you or for him, that was none of her buisness.

"poor girl".

Back in his room, he was already plotting what he'd do next. The answer was so obvious, so easy for him to achieve, that he's wondering why he hasn't thought of it sooner.

"Being a girl, huh," it wasn't impossible for him to do, he already has feminine features, as he wasn't blessed with a muscular body. He knows how to do make-up, and it would probably be best if he wore a wig to add on to his girly appearance. He'd need to change his wardrobe too, he'll have to do a little bit of research on what girls usually wear depending on what occasion. He's not worried about changing his identity, he's had experience before when making fake accounts and id's. The transfer won't be a problem, he can use his mother's connections to get him in, quite the convenience. You probably already forgot about him, as much as it hurts to say, but it's for the best so you won't be able to recognise him.

He's already getting lightheaded at the idea, giggling to himself imagining all the things he could get away with. Visiting your room wouldn't be weird, sleepovers? he gets to sleep next to you? he's shaking at the idea. Maybe even borrow each other's things, make-up, clothes, food? If you saw him as a girl then you wouldn't have to be afraid of him. It wouldn't be weird if he got all touchy with you, I mean your friends do it all the time, right?

something was starting to rise between his legs, he cringed at the motion. He better keep that in check if he doesn't want his secret to be revealed once he gets close to you.

He's sighing dreamily, his hand going over the framed photo he has of you on his desk. It was the one his mother took when the both of you were still in grade school.

"My [y/n], my darling [y/n]." His gaze softened at the idea of finally being close to you, once again.

"Let's start over."

pt.2?

#kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer #kabukimono x reader #kabukimono #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin impact x reader #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche #I forgot secret alliance existed damn

954 notes · View notes

salsasvault · 4 months

Text

I don't write often but this au has just been sitting in my brain ever since i watched an ep about border security and i need to get it out.

nsfw below, mdni

airportsecurity!ghost + airportsecurity!price x reader

tw: abuse of power, non-con elements, /f!reader/ 18+

It was standard procedure, any sort of suspicious activity needed to be investigated, and it just so happens that was the very flight you were on. Boarding was easy, and the flight was surprisingly pleasant too, a contrast to the intense anxiety you’d felt before the trip, so really everything after that should be a breeze.

Walking into Heathrow Airport gave you a sense of excitement, the trip to London that you had been thinking about finally coming to a reality.

With your carry-on behind you, you made the walk toward the exit, thinking about the trip to the hotel and where you’d eat lunch. As you made your way toward the walkway however multiple TSA agents were blocking the way, the passengers ahead of you already being questioned with their passports in hand.

You let out a quick breath, steading your nerves, this is unusual but then again what do you know about London and their security measures? Trying to suppress the number of anxiety-inducing thoughts, you make your way to one of the available officers. Dressed in a black outfit, name tag reading Riley, in all caps, you look up to meet his eyes. He speaks first.

“Just need to see your passport, and ask a couple of questions.”

“Yeah, no problem! Just give me a second.” You quickly reply, hoping to not raise any suspicion, you really had no reason for him to be suspicious at all but a situation like this left you even more anxious than normal.

Fishing through the handbag, you were thankful for keeping your passport handy, hastily pulling it out, to not waste any more of his time, you hand it over to him.

“Thank you.” He flips it open, glancing at your picture, date of birth, and other information

You silently cringe at the almost 3-year photo old, you haven’t quite mastered the art of government pictures yet.

“And where’ya headed love”

“Just out to London.” You keep your voice steady, trying to keep a sense of calm.

“Alright, you here on business? What’s the reason for your visit?” He glances up at you this time, handing your passport back to you.

You slide it back in your bag while giving him your answer.

“Just here to visit, always wanted to see London.” You say, letting out a nervous laugh at the end of that.

He nods his head. “Are you meeting anyone?” He asks tilting his head.

“Uh yeah, my dad, he flew in earlier, a couple of days ago.”

You respond hoping that this little interaction would be over soon, you weren’t sure how much longer you could chat with a man that looked like him while maintaining composure. Sure he was an officer, but by god was he a good-looking one, you internally scolded yourself for that remark, he’s just doing his job, and thinking about him like that is very wrong. Besides these are highly trained men, so the chances of him knowing you're attracted to him are higher than normal. Of course, normal people probably can't tell.

“A couple of days ago, separate flights?” He questioned.

“Oh yeah. he got a really good deal for the 7th and I was supposed to be on that flight with him but I couldn’t get my time off for that date, hence why, the later meeting.” You gave him a timid smile, gesturing slightly with your hands, hoping that answers any of his questions. You were truthful and didn’t say anything to raise suspicion, so really you should be able to go so you could then blush profusely at the close contact and his accent.

He glanced back at what seemed to be his superior officer, receiving a nod from him you assume you’re in the clear. That was until he opened his mouth.

“Okay, I’m just gonna ‘ave you come back with me, for a couple more questions.”

Your heart dropped, swallowing you gave him a an awkward smile.

“Yeah, yeah no problem.”

“Follow me this way.”

You followed him as he led the way, the nervous thoughts that had so far remained in check started to spring loose. What if they falsely accuse you of something and you can’t prove you didn't do it? God, you had just watched a documentary of a man who spent 30 years in prison for something he didn’t do, what if the next movie’s about you? Cringing internally, you shove everything away, focusing on remaining as calm and composed as possible.

Simon knew they had already apprehended the suspect, they received a tip from the JFK airport that there may have been someone smuggling some form of narcotics, and it was their job to search for them. Stopping passengers was not a common practice but Simon’s done his fair share. Ask the usual questions, confirm their passport, and look for any details that may give anything away.

When you approached him, the only free officer, he felt something stir in his stomach. A young thing, innocent looking, fresh off the plane. He knew you were most definitely not the suspect they were looking for, nonetheless, he proceeded with the standard procedure.

After hearing the first words come out of your mouth, he immediately turned to glance at Price. Both sharing the same look he went back to the task at hand. Pre Deciding they couldn’t just let a pretty thing like you escape from their grasp. He listened to every word you said, a small smirk playing at his lips from the nervousness that lightly dripped from your voice. Poor girl, all alone, being stopped in an unknown country, he could feel the anxiety rolling off of you no matter how much you tried to hide it.

So when he knew he was just about done and ready to take you back, he gave Price one last look, a sly smile tugging on his face, and a nod following. Nothing felt as good as watching you slowly pale after he told you he’d need to bring you back for questioning.

Sitting in the chair opposite to, what looked to be one of the two officers' desks, you bounced your leg up and down. Your luggage tucked in the corner, your phone in hand as you waited for either of them to arrive. You unlock your phone sending a quick text to your Dad, telling him you were caught up with security and they just had some questions to ask you. In return you receive the classic Dad response, a single thumbs up followed by a: “Don’t worry, you’ll be out soon.” Your Dad, ever so helpful.

When the door opened you stilled glancing back to see both men enter, the previous officer, Riley, and a man who looked just slightly older than him, name tag reading Price.

You mentally sighed and cursed at your luck, not only were you stopped for extra questioning but of course as fate would have it both officers had to be stupidly good-looking.

If your underwear started to gain a slight wetness to it, it definitely has nothing to do with them.

Officer Riley locked the door behind him, going to stand in the corner as his superior moved to sit behind the desk.

“I’m Officer Price, we just ‘ave a couple o’ questions to ask ya.” He clears his throat, his demeanor straight to the point.

You glance at his hands, folded on the table, we you wait to answer anything he throws at you.

"You said you were meeting your Dad?" He waits for confirmation looking back down at the paper.

“Yes, He flew a couple days ago.” He shifts.

“Alright, now ma’am, I’m going to be honest here, we were alerted by JFK that there was someone who was potentially smuggling drugs.” He glances up at you before returning his gaze to whatever was on his paper. All the while Officer Riley’s eyes burn holes through you. Your eyes momentarily flicker to his before you return your gaze to the man sitting in front of you.

A small “Oh” was all you could manage, if your heart could drop any further, it did. Your heart rate slowly rises, you know you didn’t smuggle anything, but the thought of being put away for something you didn’t do sat heavy on your mind.

A cute little thing you were, sat fidgeting in front of Price, each word coming out of his mouth made you shrink. He could practically feel the anxiousness oozing off of you. No fret, you’ll feel better soon. He knew that none of this was necessary, all for show so he and Simon could have their way with you. If they were on their own personal lunch break you wouldn't know, he continued, explaining what would happen next.

“I’m just going to have Officer Riley here search your bag if that’s alright.” He voices, he looks down at the same sheet of paper, and then raises it back up to look at you.

“Yeah! That-That’s no problem.” You sit in your seat as you watch Officer Riley move to grab your luggage, mentally going through anything in there that could raise concerns.

He lifts the suitcase, setting it down on the metal table tucked in the corner. Unzipping it, he opens it, revealing your clothes and the various little bags you made to separate your toiletries. He goes through the clothes, sifting through each, one by one, unfolding and rearranging. He lifts a pair of your black lace underwear, holding it up and inspecting it.

Your cheeks burn, your face hot in embarrassment.

Once he’s satisfied with the extent he’s searched, he closes the bag, zipping it back and placing it on the floor.

“No issues detected Sir.”

“Good, alright following protocol were gonna ‘ave to search ya.” His scouse accent trickling through.

You felt another wave of heat and embarrassment and hint of wetness flooding you. Rendered a little you speechless, you nod. Answering finally,

“I-okay, you-okay.”

Officer Riley from his position in the corner.

“ Need ya t’a spread your arms for me, move those legs apart too-yeah just like tha'.”

He really had no reason to sound so sexual for something as tame as a search. You did as told though, following his orders. His hands roaming across your body patting down any areas “necessary”, you chalked off the extra time he spent on your breasts and crotch to another ‘simply doing his job’. Once the search was over he straightened up, telling his superior that it was all clear. You finally let out a breath, hoping to be let free.

“Last step and we’ll send you out, I’ll be conducting a strip search.”

At this point whatever forces that were out there were torturing you, you could no longer hide the wetness pooling inside your underwear. And the shock running through your body made sure you were unable to form words. You gave a nod in replacement to the stuttering alternative.

He walked you over to the table where your luggage had just been, bending you at the waist. As your heart rate picked up, you then open your mouth.

“I’m sorry-but is this really necessary, I mean I’ve never committed any crime, like ever, and my suitcase is clear I-”

“Just do as you're told, if you have nothing to hide you should have no issues.”

You quickly close your mouth as his hands pull your pants down roughly, pooling at your feet. Your underwear clinging to you, the wetness apparent. He continues his “search”, pulling at your underwear, letting it fall alongside your pants.

You squeak out a sound of embarrassment, eyes filling with humiliation. He presses up against you, fingers moving up and down your slit. The faintest groan could be heard, from who, you weren’t sure.

“Fucking dripping.” He lets out a chuckle, as you go to protest. Before you can get anything out however he shoves a finger inside.

Your eyes screw shut, as he thrusts his finger into you, adding a second to join in.

“Part of the procedure, sweetheart.”

You let out small breaths, the faintest whines following after, as you tried to conceal your noises. He hits a spot inside you causing you to choke out a gasp. Price lets out a noise of approval, choosing to then continuously hit that spot.

“You-” you let out a small moan, as he rubs around your g-spot, your brain short-circuiting.

“What’s that? You gonna ‘ave to speak up love.” He taunts, relishing in your embarrassment.

He continues his ministrations, his other hand coming to roughly rub at your clit. You can’t help the small moans that leave your mouth, as you try to hold them back.

“Oh fuck-”

You hear Officer Riley move toward you, manhandling your body so your splayed at the corner, backside facing Price while, face level with his crotch. He crouches down slowly to meet your eyes.

“Be as loud as you want lovie, no one can hear ya.” He probe his finger in your mouth, as you keep it clasped shut.

“Have t’a search it, part of the procedure.”

Price hits that spot inside you harder, causing you to let out another moan, mouth opening for him.

“Perfect.” He groans out, fingers pushing your tongue down.

“Where ‘ave they been hiding ya?” He smirks, standing to unbutton his pants, a noise of surprise is let out by you, muffled by his fingers.

Left hand singularly undoing his belt. Shoving his pants down, stopping at his knees.

His cock springs out, thick and large, your eyes widening at the sight.

Price behind you pulls his fingers out abruptly, helping you regain some consciousness you open your mouth to protest at the man infront of you.

Your actions however, are interrupted by the thick length being shoved inside you from the man at your backside.

“Have to be thorough.” He lets out a laugh, dark eyes feeding off the sight of you.

You choke a sound of surprise, as he almost immediately starts a brutal pace. The man in front of you speaks.

“You're gonna be a good girl for me, open up nice and wide.” He clicks his tongue.

You shake your head until Price drives into you especially hard. Mouth opening in surprise.

“That’s it, good girl.” You gasp around his length, being fucked into by the pair of them.

Price chimes in from behind.

“Look at you, such a good girl letting two officers fuck you, making sure she’s not causing any trouble.” He reaches over to rub at your clit, fingers moving in quick circular motions. Both of them rocking into you at a brutal pace.

You feel yourself approaching your climax, with muffled moans and cries.

“Can you feel clenching around me sweetheart, be a good girl, come on my cock, that's it.” He groans, his pace speeding up as the other approaches his climax as well.

After a harsh rub to your clit you come, body shaking as tears leak from your eyes. Price continues his thrusts, as you inadvertently suck him in, the little whines vibrating around Simons's cock. They both finally come with a low groan, thick salty liquid coating your tongue and insides as you struggle to swallow.

“Fuckin’ hell.” The man in front of you moans out.

They both slowly slide out, leaving you boneless on the table, as you whine out at the movement.

“Quite the mess.” Price comments, a dark laugh following from the man in front of you.

You make an exhausted noise in response. Quite the mess indeed.

#simon ghost riley x reader #john price x reader #salsawritesforonce #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley smut #john price smut #captain john price x reader #cod mw2 #cod smut #john price x reader smut

189 notes · View notes

welldonebeca · 6 months

Text

about offices and feelings (1)

Summary: When Steve is stuck in an elevator with his office crush, he is forced to face his feelings about her. Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fat!F!Reader WC: 1.6k words Warnings: Office AU. Dirty thoughts. Office crushes. Masturbation. Tension. Broken elevators. Fluff.

masterlist

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Steve Rogers was so stupid. The stupidest of stupid men to have ever been stupid.

After Pepper had insisted on him for months, Tony had a new assistant, and his secretary threatened to sue him for delegating the work to her instead of hiring someone to do it properly.

He hired you, a perfectly adequate and competent personal assistant with very good experience and a track record of being the perfect fit for the job.

The day you walked into the office of Stark Industries was the day Steve Rogers' brain quit its job and never worked properly again.

You were beautiful, as gorgeous as if you had come right out of the Renaissance art he used to study in college, but the women in the paintings didn't hold a candle to you. Their soft jaws were not as beautiful as yours and your round cheeks, their curves not nearly as tempting and mouth-watering as yours.

And it made him feel such shame with his reaction, because you were modest and very professional, and he couldn't speak a word of negativity about your behaviour while his own behaviour was terribly gross.

Every day you were polite to everyone and tidy, and Tony's life was perfectly organised again, while Steve was thrown into a mess of madness and lust.

He was crushing on you, and really - really - hard. Steve was grateful that Tony's office was on a completely different floor of the building, which meant he didn't have to see you all the time, and so he wouldn't have his productivity tanked from not being able to look away from you. He barely saw you once or twice a week.

That was why when he caught your name in his inbox, he opened your email right away, finding a reminder of a meeting that would happen later that day, about the company's near mandatory day in the city park, which you were organising in Tony's name, of course.

Steve wrapped up his work, not wanting to leave you - or the other departments - waiting much, and actually finished ten minutes before it was supposed to happen. It gave him enough time to go to the coffee machine and make you a nice mixture of a cappuccino and hot chocolate, which he knew was your soft spot and favourite drink, and put it in a tall cup before making his own coffee and carrying them to the meeting room.

You were alone, setting up the presentation for Tony when he walked into the room, so focused you didn't even notice him as he put the coffee on the table and sat down, and he had time to adjust his posture before clearing his throat.

"Mister Rogers," you gasped when you saw him, a beautiful grin coming to your lips. "Good afternoon. Always early."

"Miss Y/N," he greeted, smiling, and raising his drink for you. "I got you coffee."

"Thank you," you spoke politely, reaching for it in his hand, and your fingers brushed against him when you picked it up, warm and soft.

You were all soft.

He took in a deep breath from behind the large table, your perfume was very faint in the room, and you smelt so damn good.

Steve would have loved to focus on your face and see your reaction at realising he had made the chocolate-cappuccino mix and not just gone for the mocha button in the machine, but there was something else he couldn't look away from.

You'd gotten up, and you were wearing a pencil skirt.

Steve could see your belly, its curve in all its glory, and all he wanted was to touch you, squeeze you and...

"Is this a mocha?" you asked, snatching his attention to your face.

Steve swallowed down hard, nodding as his cheeks felt like they were set on fire.

"I thought they weren't making mochas anymore," you sounded surprised.

"I mixed it myself," he told you. "The cappuccino and then the hot chocolate, I remember you like it better that way."

You were wide-eyed for a moment, a bit shocked, and smiled.

"Thank you, Mr Rogers," you gasped.

He gulped, nodding quickly. He was so close to a fucking HR summoning.

"You are welcome, miss," he squeezed it out of himself.

And before he could put his foot in his mouth, a group entered the room, greeting you two and taking their seats, and he put himself into his work mind again, which he should have been in since the very beginning.

He did his job like a good head of his department, took notes and offered his opinions, and behaved very correctly.

He also ran away from the meeting room before anyone else and locked himself in his office and his private bathroom once he was alone.

His work day was over anyway, and if anyone asked, he was having a stomach ache.

Steve didn't even have half an ounce of shame in him as he unbuckled his pants in the bathroom stall and pulled out his cock, lust coiling in his belly like a stupid teenager who had just seen a tit for the first time.

Fuck, he would love to see your tits. They were big, enough that he knew they would spill out of his hands easily. They probably were just as soft as you, and probably smelt so good if he buried his face in them.

He wrapped his fingers around himself, closing his eyes as his cock throbbed, neglected in his strict daily routine and already half hard as he jerked himself, muffling his sounds with a hand, afraid of being caught.

It was humiliating, jerking off in the company's bathroom like that, and he couldn't even be ashamed of himself.

He caressed his head, sensitive and shining with precum. Fuck, would you like his cock?

Would you suck it?

Fuck, he throbbed with the thought of your lips around his dick, of you hungry for him to cum down your throat.

He fucked his own hand needy, uncovering his mouth to fondle his balls, trying to be quick.

If it was for him, he would be putting his cum right in your cunt. Fuck, to have you under him, with your ass up, moaning as he fucked you hard and put his cum deep, deep in your cunt.

Steve bit his lower lip, stifling a moan as his balls tightened, and aimed for the toilet as he leaned against the wall, his cum hitting the porcelain right on time as his legs trembled, and breathed through his pursed lips, letting himself go and trying to calm down.

"Damn it," he hissed.

He was so fucked.

Steve hid in his office for another hour, emailing his team and sending the meeting's notes to them, so they would all be informed, and the office was already empty when he walked off, suit over his arm and suitcase in his hand, completely relaxed knowing he wouldn't cross paths with you.

He didn't know how long hiding from you would even work. You were both adults, he was a grown man who knew he was absolutely in the wrong position, and while - so far - it wasn’t something you seemed annoyed with, he didn't know how long it would be until you picked up on it and started to get uncomfortable around him!

Steve wasn't mean, he knew you didn't owe him anything, and the last thing he wanted was for you to think he expected something in return for just being a decent human being around you.

He waved to the janitor as he walked to the lift and pressed the button, waiting for it quietly.

He was ready to go home, have a nice dinner and rest.

And then, when the door opened, he was shocked to see you.

"Mr Rogers," you greeted.

Steve was frozen for a moment, staring at you wide-eyed, and shook himself into walking into the elevator.

"Good afternoon, Miss Y/N," he greeted. "Afternoon? Evening?"

You thought for a brief moment, looking amused.

"Is it six yet?"

He looked at the buttons to see if you had pressed the button to the existing level and then checked his watch.

"Six and two minutes," he told you.

"Evening it is," you decided.

He hummed a quiet confirmation to you, watching the numbers going down.

"Long day?" you asked suddenly.

Steve turned to look at you, surprised by the tentative small talk.

"Yeah," he confirmed, a bit too honest. "Lots of work."

"Yeah," you agreed. "Lots of... stuff."

"Yeah," Steve agreed.

You two exhaled together, and the doors opened in an empty floor, closing right after.

Steve was about to ask you something - anything, whatever was enough to make you feel like he wanted to keep talking - when the metal box you two were in shook and stopped suddenly, and if he didn't reach for you quickly you would have fallen onto the floor.

His heart came to his throat when the lights became black and the elevator started free-falling, and you grabbed him, squeezing him for dear life and screaming in fear.

And then it stopped, not killing you two, but not leaving you comfortable either.

The two of you fell down on your butts, and held you as you panted and sobbed into his neck.

Steve didn't even think before wrapping his arms around you, squeezing you through the panic.

"It's okay," he rubbed your back. "It's okay, we are okay."

You pulled back, looking at his face and then around, opening and closing your mouth, all blood gone from your face as you literally shook in his arms.

"We are alright," you stuttered. "We are alright. In a broken elevator."

Shit.

He looked around, the elevator still completely dark, and reached up, pressing the red button to get security's help, knowing better than to try to get out.

You seemed to be trying to calm down as he did it, and Steve rubbed your back slowly, trying to calm you down.

"Hello?" security answered.

…

“about offices and feelings” was posted on my Patreon in June. To read it now, subscribe to my page! It’s just $2 a month, and I post 6x a week.

…

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth @amythyststorm33 @shaelyn102 @yknott81 @maximofftrash @kgbrenner @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80 @mogaruke @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever @deemoriarty @05spn18 @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67 @averyrogers83 @notyourtypicalrose @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega Marvel forever tags: @its-daydreamer23 @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @tayrae515? @indecisiondecisions? @afanofmanystuffs? @patzammit? @thevanishedillusion? @widowsfics? @alexisshoto @princess-evans-addict @dreams-of-feysand @dragonqueen0606 @izbelross @isabelle-faith

#welldonebeca's about offices and feelings #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x reader fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x fat!reader

149 notes · View notes

hwanchaesong · 2 years

Text

"Cliché? Cut!"

Badboy!Seonghwa X RichKid,Nerd!Reader

Synopsis: A promise of not ending up like those couples in sappy dramas in a fake relationship is the best idea for facing reality.

genre & warnings: fluff, smut, angst, cursing, university au, mentions of weddings and cheating, appearances of other idols, alcohol, break ups

word count: 7.3k

requested by: my lovely friend @hwadump (ps i am so sorry for this late af request 😭)

Park Seonghwa believes that he is the king of ATEEZ University.

All boys want to be him and all girls want to be with him.

People respect him, worship the floor he walks on, look up at him like he just walked on top of the sea.

Those came crashing down right at this moment, in front of you, L/N Y/N.

Truth to be told, all of these are for the sake of winning a bet.

Okay, let's get this straightened up.

A popular guy like him means that he is also in a prominent group, a circle that contains the other known men in their school.

It's only natural for them to get on their high horses and play with other people's feelings for fun, and that includes banging innocent girls just to break their heart afterwards.

And it happens that you, the school's infamous nerd and teacher's pet, was his group's next target.

"It couldn't be that hard." Hongjoong mused, showing Seonghwa a photo of you in his phone. (something that he got from your social media of course)

Wooyoung nodded his head in agreement before adding, "True. Besides, girls like that are easy to read and manipulate."

Yeah right, easy to read and manipulate. He will never, ever believe his friends again, especially Wooyoung, after this because what the fuck.

Who would even believe it when he says that the school's geek is currently trapping him in his seat, trying to seal a deal with him in the middle of an isolated library.

"So, whaddya say?" you smiled at the gaping man, your voice effectively snapping him out of his minute daydream.

"Uh? Pardon?"

'Damn it, Seonghwa. You could've done better than that!'

Seonghwa cursed himself internally for his stupid reply.

"I said," you leaned closer to him, close enough for him to smell your strawberry perfume, "I heard your little bet with your friends a while ago."

He gulped, at loss for words because even if he's handsome as hell and is good in bed, covering up a discovered dirty secret is not his forte.

"So, like I was saying before.." you continued, taking a long pause before spilling out the beans in one go.

"I'd participate in your bet willingly, but do me a favor and pretend to be my boyfriend as well so my family will stop pairing me with random guys."

Seonghwa blinked, once... twice.. his eyes widened when your words sank in his brain.

How will he handle this uncanny situation?

"Why? I- Can you. No, b-but are you-"

"C'mon, it couldn't be that hard." you parroted his friend's statement from before, bringing him back to reality as he straightened his self up.

"Okay, let's talk about this one by one." Seonghwa replied, able to form coherent sentences this time.

You shifted in your position, creating some space between you two, "Sure thing."

You sat down on the table, crossing your legs and casually raising an eyebrow, signalling for Seonghwa to continue.

He cleared his throat, adjusting his position as well as he tried to keep his cool, "First, you'll go along with the bet and let me win all those money."

You nodded your head. Upon your confirmation, Seonghwa carried on.

"Second, in return, you want me to act as your boyfriend."

"Exactly!" you happily exclaimed, standing from your seat with a cheery bounce, elated that he finally got the idea.

Seonghwa opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

"Here's the catch though." you removed your glasses, perching it atop of your head. Your eyes glinted as the corner of your lips curled, "let's make this a bet ourselves."

This is a new look that no one had ever witnessed before, an appearance that only Seonghwa had been able to see.

It's astonishing to say the least, you keep on surprising him and he couldn't help but be interested in your offering.

"I'm listening, Ms. L/N."

You scoffed, "Don't go and be formal like you didn't try and flirt with me a few minutes ago." you stood up from your seat and walked towards the window, gazing outside for a bit before facing an amused Seonghwa.

"I don't want this to end up like those sappy romantic movies." you looked down at your shoes for a bit, pondering your next words.

"That is why let's make some rules." you voiced out, approaching him and raising your hand for a handshake, "The one who falls in love first will have to pay the consequences."

Seonghwa smiled, standing at his full height and accepting your handshake, "That's a deal, my girlfriend."

It's safe to say that you guys laid down all the rules for the both of you to follow during the 'dating era.'

Which consists of:

1. No one is allowed to speak of the details of the agreement, family and friends are not exempted.

2. Act like a real couple in public so everyone will believe the lie.

3. Falling in love is strictly prohibited.

4. The first one to fall in love will be considered the loser and shall be punished by paying a fee of $10,000.

5. This 'relationship' shall go on within the duration of 3 months.

"Oh my fucking god, I said fuck her but really? You're dating her?!" Wooyoung shrieked when he saw his hyung's wallpaper which consists of a photo of you and him in a photo booth.

It has been a full two months since the pact and everything is going smoothly.

Seonghwa made up a story of how you hooked up with him in his car and voila! He won the bet and got the money without any problems.

On the other hand, you have already introduced him to your family. No more blind dates on your side and bonus points - your parents highly approved of him.

Seonghwa looked at his phone, staring at the sweet picture where he has his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder while you have this surprised pikachu face going on.

"Well duh," his eyes moved up to the younger boy, "is it really that surprising?"

"Surprising?" his other friend, Yunho, piped up from behind him, "It's ground breaking!"

"True that. It's not like you to settle down with someone. Especially if they are just supposed to be a one night stand." San concurred, making Seonghwa sigh.

"Is that really how you see me?" he tried to make them sympathize with him to no avail. Everyone in the room collectively agreeing that yes, they all thought that he'd die alone because of his playboy behavior.

"You motherf-" before he could curse at his friends, his phone rang, your name flashing on the screen.

A series of 'oohs' and 'aahs' resonated in the entirety of the living room.

"Shut up." he glared at them, "I'm leaving now, and I swear to God, if y'all make a mess out of our dorm, you'll regret it."

His eyes landed on Jongho and pointed at him, "You're in-charge since Hongjoong isn't here." he declared before walking out the door, not minding the fuss that followed.

"What? But I'm the third oldest! Why is our youngest in-charge?!"

"Suck it loser, now obey me."

1:24 PM

You stood there at the entrance of the mall, waiting for Seonghwa to arrive patiently.

"Good grief, I told you to wait inside because it's too hot in here." a voice from beside you startled you, turning around and meeting face to face with yours truly.

"And I did say I'll pass on that. I want to walk together with you." you insisted, entering the mall with him trailing behind you.

Seonghwa smiled a bit, endeared at this attitude of yours.

Truth to be told, everything about you is unexpected. Your whole demeanor is not what he thought really is.

You may be the school's nerd, but you are so much more than that.

Within the span of 30 days, he had already learned a lot about you.

You came from a rich family but still remain humble, your dreams and aspirations in life, your favorites, likes and dislikes. It is kind of alarming with how much he pays attention to you, or the fact that he's enjoying his time with you.

It's a red flag, he knows it, but paid no attention to it because c'mon. He is THE Park Seonghwa. This feelings of his? Pft, it's nothing but a simple admiration of how free and bubbly you are outside of school.

"Are you listening? What looks better on me? Blue or red?"

Seonghwa blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, "Pardon?"

You rolled your eyes, "It has been two damn months and you still say that word to me." you feigned an offended look, "When will you even listen to me properly for once?"

His eyes widened, thinking of the possibility that he might have done something wrong, "I am listening, I'm sorry. Okay, sorry. Please tell me what you just said again, I swear m-"

Your laugh interrupted his rambling.

What a dork, really.

Until now, you still can't believe that this man is treated like a deity in your university.

Seriously?

His image is far too different from who and what he really is. You have learned that much, of course you would, you spent almost every day hanging out with him since your bet begun.

"Oh goodness gracious, Seonghwa." you tried catching your breath, stopping yourself from laughing out again when you saw his confused face.

"It was a joke, you dummy." You lightly tapped his shoulder before showing him the dresses again.

"Blue." he immediately answered, getting the context of what you're asking him a while ago.

You raised an eyebrow, "That's fast." you placed the red dress back on the rack, turning on your heels to face the mirror with the blue dress on your arms. "You really think that this looks good on me?"

"It's my favorite color, so yeah." he mumbled, to which you almost didn't hear it... almost.

You giggled, finding his shy nature adorable, "Alright, I guess I'll buy this one then."

4:36 PM

Seonghwa offered to drive you home, saying that he won't let you commute because that is his purpose as a 'boyfriend.'

"So when's the wedding again?" he asked, staring straight ahead on the road but still paying attention to what you'll say.

"Next week, on Thursday. And that reminds me, we have to go to their place a day before the event." you shifted from the passenger seat, unlocking your phone and scrolling through the messages.

"Because Uncle Eden said, and I quote, 'Let's have a family reunion first before I finally tie the knot with the love of my life.' end quote." you read the message that your uncle sent you, perfectly mimicking his voice that made Seonghwa snicker.

"I'll get ready for that."

After his sentence, you realized that you're finally home as he parked his car and... what the fuck? Why is your mother waiting at the gate like she's expecting you any minute?

"Don't tell me.." you whispered, terror coating your features.

"I'll tell you." Seonghwa smirked, getting out of the car and going over to your side, acting like a real gentleman for opening the car door for you. "I did tell your mom that I'm coming over, and guess what, I'll even stay for dinner."

You groaned, not happy at this at all. As much as you love having his presence around, you hate it when he's visiting at your home.

Your mother gushes about him all the time. With how handsome, respectful, charming, intelligent and the fucking list goes on. You're getting tired of it, especially when she lets the "Have you ever thought of the aspect of building a family?" question.

You don't like it, but now you're beginning to think that Seonghwa finds enjoyment in this horrible, terrible scene.

"Welcome home!" your mother greeted you with a hug, doing the same with Seonghwa. "I am so glad to see you again, son! Come in, I have something to tell both of you."

You made eye contact with Seonghwa, shrugging it off and thinking nothing of it. Upon arriving at the living room, your mom dropped the bomb.

"What?" you screeched, was that right?

"It's not a big deal. It's fine." Seonghwa interjected, holding your hand as an attempt to calm you down.

Your heart is beating wildly at the idea of sharing one room with him.

"What are you overreacting for?" your mom crossed her arms, "You're dating, it's not a crime for you to share a bed."

Yeah, fuck she's right. You still have to carry this damned act on even if it kills you. One more month, and everything will end soon.

"Yes." you took a deep breath, "You're absolutely correct."

Everything will be fine. It's not like difficult things will come your way when you spent a few nights with him in a single room.

Right?

"Boo." a sultry voice startled you from behind, making you almost yell and curse at the perpetrator.

You closed your eyes and held a deep breath, calming your annoyance down. You are so not gonna embarrass yourself.

You had arrived at the site of the wedding, a resort, today and you were given a luxurious, spacious room to hibernate in while waiting for the d-day.

It could have been treated like a vacation if it wasn't for this dumbo with you. No choice though, he is still technically your 'boyfriend' so it is mandatory for him to be with you on occasions like this.

Currently, you two are getting ready for the reunion party tonight. And frankly, you want to look like a total princess, partly because you don't want to be criticized by your relatives and mainly... you want to look pretty for Seonghwa.

Okay, in your defense, he looks like a charming prince with his white suit and neatly arranged hair. You certainly don't want to look like a pauper beside him.

"Seonghwa." you called his name out menacingly, "I swear to heaven and hell if you did that again I w-"

You were cut off when he yawned and plopped down on the bed, "You what?" he challenged, unfazed and he's sporting this snarky smile that irritated you further.

You went closer to him and sat down on the edge of the bed, "Shut up and braid my hair."

He gasped, complaining that you had degraded his status as a boyfriend into a hairstylist. You then felt him stand up, his fingers threading through your looks gently. Despite the complaint, he still complied with your request.

It was silent for a few minutes until he decided to break it, "Do you still remember when I first braided your hair?"

You giggled a bit, recalling that hideous incident. How could you forget that when it was so memorable that you think that was the turning point of your fake relationship.

It was a big mistake for you to go and fetch Seonghwa from his last class, I mean, it really is especially when you see him kissing this snotty girl.

"Park Seonghwa." you mumbled his name lowly, and your voice seemed to wake him up and he immediately pushed the girl away.

"Y/N, this isn't what it looks like. I'll explain."

You just stood there, contemplating whether to hear him out or leave. You did neither when the bitch decided to clung unto Seonghwa and commented some rude remarks about you.

"Oppa, who is this? Why is this ugly nerd here? Will you go away? I am having some alone time with my oppa here."

Oh it's on.

Fire burning in your eyes, you stomped towards her and forcefully pulled her away from Seonghwa. A loud thud followed when she fell right on her butt, to which you didn't give a shit because she deserves it.

"Let's go, Seonghwa." you ordered, but one step and someone has their hands on your hair.

The pain was unbearable and everything was a blur, you couldn't discern what was happening. Not until a teacher broke the fight and hearing the faint voice of Seonghwa stating that the other girl was at fault.

You just got your hair pulled like a k-drama scene, huh.

Fortunately, the teachers believed that a good student like you wouldn't even harm a fly, thus, you were out of the principal's office without any problem.

You speed walked outside the school, keen on getting away as soon as possible. After a few minutes, you sat down on a bench in a nearby park. Only then did you realized that Seonghwa didn't follow nor check up on you.

You looked down at your trembling hands, no no no. You ain't gonna cry because of a pathetic excuse of a man like him.

Suddenly, tender hands are massaging your scalp and his familiar soothing voice began talking about how he didn't mean for that to happen.

"Y/N, please believe me that I am not cheating on you. That piece of shit suddenly lurched at me and I didn't have the time to react."

You continued looking ahead of you, focusing on the scenery of bright orange skies caused by the sun setting. You won't look at him now, because if you did, then you'll cry.

"I really am sorry, Y/N. Please."

You stood up, walking back home and you know that he's following you all the way, making sure that you're all right.

It somehow made your heart all mushy, knowing that he cares, but that is still not enough for you to accept his apology.

You made a bee line towards the bathroom when you arrived at home, wanting to take a warm bath and sleep the bad day away.

You halted in front of the mirror when you saw your reflection, it was your hair... beautifully braided.

The next day, the whole university was shocked when Seonghwa announced that the two of you are dating.

He is officially yours and you are officially his.

That was the day when you two got the title of "The Nerd and The Bad Boy Couple."

That was also the day when you learned that Seonghwa carries some girl stuff in his bag for you to use whenever you need it.

The gesture is sweet and wholesome, it made you forgive him in no time. Surely, that was a weakness of yours.

Back in present time~

"Yeah, I do remember that you were an asshole back then." you cheekily replied, an affronted expression crossing Seonghwa's face in return.

"You have the guts to tell me that when here I am, braiding your hair almost everyday." he sassed back.

"Well, I love the way you braid my hair." you admitted openly, inflating Seonghwa's pride knowing that you found something to love about him.

His hands cupped your cheeks, mushing it together and craning your head backwards so you'll be able to make direct eye contact with him, "You mean you love me?"

You scoffed and lightly pushed him away, "You wish. Now let's go and make a grand entrance there."

Grand entrance means you, linking arms with Seonghwa as you greeted every relative that you encounter.

"This is tiring." you groaned, slumping in your seat and your mood further slacked when you heard your female cousin's voices.

"Ooh, Y/N, is this your boyfriend right here?" one of them asked, to which Seonghwa answered for himself.

"Yes, pleased to meet you. The name's Park Seonghwa." he bowed exactly 90 degrees, impressing the older women.

"What a handsome young man!" a man's voice interjected this time, another uncle of yours that seemed to take interest in Seonghwa.

He's like a star tonight, everyone has taken a liking to him and truth to be told, you can't blame them. You understand why they naturally gravitate towards him.

"Is it okay if I borrow him for a bit? Ya know, man chitchat." your uncle asked, to which you agreed in a flash.

You watched as Seonghwa got dragged around, and before he could leave your sight, you saw him mouth an 'I'll be back.'

"Man, your boyfriend is like an actor. People are all around him."

You looked at your side to see who talked and see Jungwoo, a close friend slash cousin of yours.

"Yeah he does. I mean, I can see why." you smiled and picked up a glass of water, chugging it down.

"And I can see how much he loves you."

You choked.

"Easy there!" Jungwoo tapped your back, "What the hell Y/N, what was that for?"

You tried to calm your coughing fit down, "I'm sorry I was surprised. But, what was that about how he loves me?"

Jungwoo grimaced, kind of like he was so ready to beat you up for not noticing.

He held his fingers up, counting the things that he observed, "The way he looked at you. The way he talks about you. His actions towards you. H-"

"Okay enough." you interrupted him before the list could go on, you couldn't believe what you are hearing.

You stood up from your seat, getting all panicky about the recent discovery.

"Where are you going?" Jungwoo asked, puzzled that you're suddenly acting weird.

"I am gonna serve us some drinks."

And maybe you had too much wine because you now find yourself in Seonghwa's arms as he carried you back in your shared bedroom.

"Damn girl, did something happened while I was gone?" he asked, softly laying you in bed and was about to go and get you some water but his footsteps halted.

"Do you think I'm ugly?" you queried out of nowhere.

The ambience of the room turned into something indiscernible. It was suffocating.

How could a one question do this?

Seonghwa slowly faced you, and fuck, the view is enough to make him crazy.

There you are, vulnerable and your hazy, innocent eyes are begging him to do something that he might regret in the future.

He closed his eyes and willed himself to look away, "No, I think of the opposite." he answered truthfully.

He had always thought of that, from the bottom of his heart, he genuinely viewed you as someone who has a gorgeous face and personality.

It was unreal at first, that is why he did say that his feelings are nothing but a jolt of admiration for you.

And now that he's in this position, his mind begs to differ.

Is the attraction an actual one and not imaginary?

He doesn't know, but he does know that his friends had pointed out multiple times with how he turns into a completely different person when you're around.

"So you think I'm pretty?" you asked again, and this time you groggily sat up, holding onto Seonghwa's hand.

The man before you hasn't moved an inch, and you took that as a cue to continue.

"Seonghwa, I-I... My cousin told me that you love me and I don't know what to do with that information."

His eyes widened, was he really that transparent?

"But what made me more anxious is that, I didn't hate the idea of you loving me." you stared at him, silently imploring him for any refutal.

This is a dangerous territory that you both are trespassing, and when the bullet have been fired, there is no going back.

"What about you? If I told you that I love you, what will you do?"

And he snapped.

Without any hesitance, Seonghwa bent down, kissing you fully on the lips. You reciprocated it within a second, no more pretending and rationality out of the window.

The lip lock was full of vigor, an overflow of hidden emotions had begun to spill out, and nobody could stop whatever would transpire for the night.

Seonghwa bit your lower lip as he guided you down back to the mattress, lightly nipping on it before slipping his wet appendage inside your mouth.

You didn't have the energy to fight back, allowing him to completely dominate you.

A whimper escaped from you when his mouth snaked down just below your ears, "If you told me that you love me, then I'll probably do the same." he whispered, causing goosebumps to raise over your skin.

You gasped when he bit a sensitive part of your neck, and you did it again when he sucked on your skin.

He is leaving his marks all over you, it would be a herculean task to hide all of those but you couldn't care less, basking in the feeling of his hot mouth in your blazing skin.

"S-Seonghwa." you moaned his name out, a small hum coming from him as a reply, "I have never done this before."

He pulled away for a bit, examining your features and caressing your flushed cheeks, "Don't worry baby, I'll take care of you."

And he meant that, he will make you enjoy this night to the point that you'll never be able to feel anything like this if it didn't come from him.

He started removing your articles of clothing one by one, and the more skin you showed, the more excited he becomes.

You look like an angel, so pure and sinless and he couldn't wait to wreak havoc in you.

"Nu uh, baby, don't cover that up." he stopped you from hiding your breasts when he got rid of your bra, pinning your arms on your side.

You are beginning to feel shy, feeling his gaze on your body, "You look so perfect and..." Seonghwa licked his lips, "delicious."

He released your arms, his hands going around and in between your chest. He proceeded with a small massage, his palms squeezing your busts, lightly tickling your areola until your nipples are hardened enough to his liking.

All Seonghwa could feel is the cloud-like softness of your boobs and he just wants to bury himself in it.

His eyes peered over yours, looking for any hints of resistance, and when he saw none of it, he dived right into you. Putting a nub in his mouth and experimentally doing all tricks for you to feel good.

You squirmed in his hold, the growing pleasure is now running in your veins.

He started with small flicks, then he had gotten more bold and circled around it. A buzzing sensation came through when he sucked on it.

The anticipation was worth the wait, considering how skilled he is.

He suckles hard, then slows down into kitten licks. Your other boob never forgotten, his fingers tweaking and playing with your nipple.

When he's certain that he has gotten his saliva all over your breast, he had gotten another mission in mind.

His hand slides down to your belly, prying your legs open in a gentle manner.

"You good?"

You nodded your head, not able to form a word as you tried to comprehend all the things that are currently happening in your body.

Your confirmation was enough for Seonghwa to continue devouring you.

And oh boy, did he went wild on you.

No mercy as his middle finger began to rub on your clit. You had never felt like this before and it's too much.

"If you want to cum, then let it all out."

You were about to ask what does he mean by that, but there is no need to when he demonstrated it to you.

He plunged two fingers into your sopping core, easily taking him without any problem.

"Ah! S-Seonghwa!" you cried out when he positioned himself in between your legs to prevent you from closing them.

"If you can't take this now," he came face to face with your heat, "then how will you handle me later, hm?"

Another loud moan was elicited out from you, his tongue prodding and teasing your bundle of nerves.

You knew he was good with his tongue, you had observed it a lot of times, especially when he darts it out like a chameleon.

You knew that, yet this is a domain that you never knew will feel so heavenly unless you tried it for yourself.

The loud noise of you moaning, him slurping all of your juices, and the lewd wet sounds coming from below you every time he curls his fingers inside are insane.

Seonghwa felt your muscles tensing, a sign that you are close to release. Thus, he switched his style into something more of a challenge for you.

His digits went to your clit, rubbing it in a circular manner and his tongue slid inside your pussy.

The electrifying feeling of having your sensitive nub get played with, along with the constant darting of his tongue inside you were enough to send you over the edge.

Seonghwa continued his actions for you to ride your high, only stopping when you tried to move away from him.

You were breathing heavily, eyes closed and ready to go into dreamland. Until something hard poked in your entrance, "You think this is over?"

His voice snapped you awake and you were crying out in both pleasure and pain after he entered you in one go.

You are still vulnerable from the previous orgasm, but that also allowed you to feel how big and thick he is.

He momentarily ceased his movements for you to adjust to his size. On your side, he was stretching you out so good and fuck, you want him to move.

See, you are not the type to do shit when you get desperate, but you are already out of your mind and your hips begin to move on their own in search of friction.

"I can't Seonghwa, please move." you pleaded, which sounded so sexy for him.

He bit his lower lip, bending downward and putting a chaste kiss on your nose before whispering, "Your wish is my command, princess."

Yes, you did say for him to move, turns out that he really planned to go all out on you right from the start.

He snaps his hips so hard, his pace is also fast that the bed started shaking.

Seonghwa loves the way you react to him, not only that but the sensation that you're giving him.

You are so tight and warm. Just exactly how he wants it.

Your pussy effortlessly pushes him out, yet the moment he starts pushing in again feels like he was getting hugged by wet, mellow vacuum.

You can also feel how he slides in and out of you, mind blowing even when he shifted the positions.

Lifting your legs and putting it over his shoulders let him pound into you on a deeper level.

So deep that his tip grazed over your g-spot, making you arch your back and that gave away the fact that he had hit the prize.

"Finally, I have been looking for that for a while now." he muttered victoriously, smiling darkly as he held onto your waist.

"Get ready, baby."

With the last warning, he thrusted into you relentlessly. His speed is faster than before and he rams harder than before.

Your hands went over to his toned arms, clinging to it like your life depends on it.

"Don't stop." you whimpered, and you really don't want this paradise to end.

You could say that he is a monster in bed, literally.

He is destroying you, tearing you into pieces yet you are all down for this.

You are willing to be demolished, as long as its him.

"Shit, you feel so fucking good baby." Seonghwa praised, his eyes roaming all over your appearance.

And he was stoked.

Strands of your hair are sticking to your face due to the sweat, reddish skin, boobs jiggling because of the amount of force he's using to fuck you silly and mouth open in a silent moan.

Even in your disheveled state, you still managed to look like a goddess and... oh my god he loves you.

He doesn't know what to do with this information, but he'll ignore this now and focus on giving you more pleasure.

"S-Seonghwa, I'm close." you said, looking at him tantalizingly. You couldn't hold it back, the euphoria began washing all over you like a wave and it felt so marvelous.

The overstimulation is getting too much for you to handle after a few minutes of your orgasm yet Seonghwa's still railing into you like there is no tomorrow.

You unintentionally clamped on his length, with a grunt and a few more thrusts, Seonghwa pulled himself out and came all over your stomach.

Sticky and dirty, two things that you'll normally hate but under these circumstances, it is weirdly comforting.

You weren't aware of your surroundings anymore, too tired and sleepy to care.

Still, you vaguely notice Seonghwa clean you up, cuddling you close to him and whispering a sweet goodnight on the crown of your head.

The glaring light of the sun woke Seonghwa up, he was in a good mood, but that turned sour when he saw that you weren't beside him anymore.

"Seonghwa! Are you awake?! C'mon you have to prepare too." The door opens, revealing you in a robe, clearly getting ready for something.

"What?" he dumbly asked.

"What do you mean by 'what'? you playfully rolled your eyes, setting foot in the room and coaxing him out of the bed, reminding him that today is the wedding.

He had no choice but to comply for now, and he'll talk to you later. But there is a bad feeling inside his stomach, he couldn't put his finger on it but... why are you acting normally? Like nothing happened last night.

Are you seriously gonna do this?

You went on with your day like you usually would. Excitedly clapping throughout the wedding and being giddy until the end.

It was suffocating, and he couldn't wait to confront you during the party.

The reception hall was like a palace, with the gigantic chandelier in the middle of the ceiling, marbled floors and touches of red and gold. The wedding planner did so well as he managed to make the place look magical with the set of decors.

But Seonghwa doesn't have any time to dawdle, waiting for the dance part to come so he can zone in on you.

"For all the couples out there, this is your time to shine." the emcee announced, much to his ease.

A slow song was played, and now is his chance. He went and approached the table where you are sitting with your female cousins, doing this gentlemanly thing of asking you for a dance.

In the middle of the heavily populated room, the background is blurred and all he can see is you.

The blue dress that you bought together is perfect on you, hugging your curves just right and it elevated your charms.

His heart is pounding so fast and he doesn't know what to do.

"Y/N, I-"

"Let's forget what happened last night."

And his world shattered into pieces.

You took a deep breath, gathering every bit of your strength and gazing straight into his orbs, "We only have a week, and what happened last night was a mistake, right?"

Reality struck Seonghwa in the face, reminding him of the actual setting he's in.

He's not supposed to fall in love with you. He's not allowed to fall in love with you and vice versa.

Curse this.

"Yes, that is what I was about to say." he agreed despite the bitterness that was pooling in the pit of his stomach.

You smiled a bit, albeit a tiny hint of sadness is hidden behind it, "I'm glad we're on the same page. I don't really want to ruin our friendship."

Suddenly, your arms that are dangling on Seonghwa's neck are heavy and his palms on your waist feel like fire.

So that is what you are, friends.

Either way, life goes on. After the wedding, going home in your own places, you two felt like you did the biggest mistake of your lives.

It was the regret after all, knowing that the cards had been laid out yet the decision you made is to turn a blind eye on it.

Funny thing is that the both of you continued hanging out every day. Spending time with each other day and night, like you are making the most of the remaining time.

It's worse though, because the more you make memories with Seonghwa, the more it makes it difficult for him to accept that the finish line is near.

"Hyung, are you okay?" Yunho asked the drained older man, slumped on the sofa.

"Yeah, I am." he answered blankly.

Before Yunho could badger for more information, Seonghwa stood up and exited the dorm, saying that he has to attend his next class.

On the negative note, he can't concentrate. His brain is doing him a favor by thinking about you, and as if on cue, his phone dinged.

Flashed in the notification of his screen is your name. Upon, opening it, he read a text message from you.

3:17 PM

From: Y/N

Hey Seonghwa, are you busy right now? Can we meet in the school garden, I have something important to say.

He was always good at making excuses, but this might be the best one where his brain cells worked so fast to make reasons for him to be able to get out of class, bolting towards you like the flash.

Upon arriving in the garden, he saw you in a crouching position, petting a stray cat.

As much as he loves to watch you, he's still curious about the urgent matter that you need to address. Thus, he calls your name to catch your attention.

"There you are!" you beamed at him, and before he could react, you grabbed his hand and tugged him along with you.

"Wait! Y/N, what are you doing?!" in his panicked state, which is rare, he doesn't understand what your motives are.

"Isn't it obvious, we're skipping classes!"

He can't believe what he's hearing. You, the top student is skipping classes with him. Isn't it supposed to be the other way round?

Seonghwa was too busy in his own world that he didn't notice you stop in a familiar place. It's the park where he first braided your hair.

"Come sit." you happily tapped the empty space next to you, to which he obeyed.

You examined his side profile.

Ethereal.

That was the only word that you could think of if someone asked you to describe him. Well, that was the adjective that popped in your head whenever you remember how he looked above you that night.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." he teased, making you smack his shoulders.

"Very funny."

"I know."

The ambience before was tense, a complete 180 of today's atmosphere.

Everything is chill, but the bomb is about to be dropped.

"All good things must come to an end." you quoted, and Seonghwa took a sharp intake of breath at your insinuation.

"This is it, huh?" he stalled, just a few more seconds, please.

"Yeah." you looked down at your feet, closing your eyes and getting ready for the final moment.

"You are one of the best things that happened to me, surprisingly." you took off first, lifting yourself off of the seat and raising your hand for him to take.

"It was a wholesome three months with you, Mister Park." you were waiting for his reply, but got flustered when he enveloped you in his arms.

"And you made me the happiest man on earth during these three months, Ms. L/N."

At the time of your separation, Seonghwa thought he'll be fine.

The 'break-up' was mutual, he was actually stunned that he was able to go through that without shedding a tear. So he really was convinced that he's okay and that he will be able to move on from you.

He has never been wrong.

"Seonghwa, get up and eat." Hongjoong, his friend, turned on the light in his bedroom, making him grumble a small "I don't wanna eat and go away."

Hongjoong sighed and sat at the edge of the bed, revealing a secret that he had been keeping for days.

He's tired of seeing his friend like this.

Dark circles under his eyes, tangled hair, pale complexion, and frankly, he needs to take a bath asap.

"She cried."

Seonghwa immediately removed his covers, eyes wide and ears ready to listen, "Come again?"

"I said, she cried, dumb ass."

"And you made me the happiest man on earth during these three months, Ms. L/N."

Seonghwa let go of you, and you couldn't bear to look at him anymore or else you'll cry on the spot.

"Alright then... bye!" you bowed, turning around and running away from him.

When you're sure that you're out of his sight, you collapsed in a nearby tree and clutched your chest, the area exactly where your heart is.

You expected this, you gave yourself a long peptalk about this last night. But the agony is still unbearable.

Withdrawing him, breaking things off with Seonghwa, is fucking painful than getting punched in the face.

"Excuse me miss, are you okay?"

You looked up at the source of the sound, acknowledging the presence of yout student council president, Kim Hongjoong.

"Oh, yes. Yes, I'm sorry I was just.. doing some things." you felt awkward, knowing that he's one of Seonghwa's friends.

He raised an eyebrow at you, aren't you Seonghwa's girlfriend? Why the hell do you look like a kicked puppy on the side of the road?

You quickly stood up and dusted your skirt, fixing yourself in a hurry, "I gotta go."

"Wait!-"

When Hongjoong got home that day, he saw his brooding friend's broken hearted expression. He looks so down, and that was enough evidence for him to piece two and two together.

"And that's what happened." Hongjoong concluded the story, relieved that he's been able to get that off his mind.

"Really?" Seonghwa rhetorically asked, and something inside him sparked.

"I should go to her. No! I must go to her!"

He left in a hurry, leaving Hongjoong alone in the room and muttering to himself, "He should've at least taken a short shower."

Seonghwa ran around like a mad man, looking for your whereabouts.

The mall, market, park, convenience stores. He's sweating like crazy and the sun is about to go down, where the fuck are you?

Then like a meteor hit him.

The library!

"Y/N!" he opened the door, shouting your name that scared you to death.

"Oh my fu-! Seonghwa?!" you were astounded when you saw him, that increased further when he marched closer to you.

You backed yourself up on the table accidentally, no room to escape when he held you in his arms and kissed you like there's no tomorrow.

You returned the kiss, enjoying the moment that you've missed dearly.

You two are now back in the same place where it all started. Determined to turn a bet into something more realistic.

Pulling away for air, Seonghwa took in every detail of you.

He yearned for you, and he was miserable without you.

"Seonghwa." you murmured, this feels like a dream, because you have come to terms that you'll never be able to see or hold him again like he was truly yours.

"Y/N, fuck the rules." he mumbled, getting straight to the point. "I don't fucking care if I'll turn into loser, as long as I become your lover."

Your eyes turned glassy, tears forming the corner of your lids. Some had already fallen down as Seonghwa kissed all of them away.

"Seonghwa.. I-I need you in my life." you confessed, not at all ashamed, "I know I said that falling in love is forbidden but I love you so much."

Your sobs were muffled when Seonghwa closed the distance between you two once more, sealing the deal.

"Then that's it." he said against your lips, "You are finally, officially, and eternally mine."

The corner of your lips curled up, burying your face on his sculpted chest, "I accept."

There is nothing more than you could ever wish for more than an agreement like this.

---------------------------------------------------

@hyuckilstan @ateezbabysitters @minkiflwr @kpopcrossworlds @hwadump

1K notes · View notes

btskitten7 · 1 year

Text

Silent Grace| Chapter one: the 'perfect' family

✎ ship: Min Yoongi x Fem reader

✎ au/genre: Mafia!Au , angsty , smut, Violence

✎ rating: Mature 18+

✎ wc: 3.2k

⚠︎ chapter warnings: none

✎summary: Min Yoongi lives a pretty private life for the most part. He is rich and powerful. His name carries weight. He is one of the most feared men alive but he has a soft, sweet spot. You are his sweet spot. You are the one thing he swore to protect...even if it means lying to you...

About everything.

“Good morning, beautiful”

The words always filled your heart with happiness as you turned into your boyfriend’s arms, pecking his lips softly and wrapping your arms around your neck while he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Good morning, my love.”

Yoongi always knew how to make you swoon whenever he was near. You knew him back in high school but you wouldn’t say you two were close, per say. More like when you were in class, you’d talk casually but after school you had your separate group of friends. Especially since you were focused on getting your Nursing degree while Yoongi was focused on music amongst other things from what you heard. So you were acquaintances for lack of a better term. You didn’t even become friends with Yoongi until you ran into him while working at a random cafe after high school.

You guys almost clicked instantly, for you it was a nice catch-up but for Yoongi, it was nice to see someone from his past when his life was still normal and calm. You guys ended up talking until you closed that night.

The night was full of laughter and good conversation which led to Yoongi coming by every day at closing to spend some time with you. It was easy for you because you had someone to talk to while doing chores, and it was great for him since he didn’t always like being in crowded areas all the time.

From that moment on, Yoongi always related you to his tranquility, his eye of the storm. He quickly fell into a routine. He’d wake up, eat, go to work, come home, shower then come see you, go home, then finally, he’d go to sleep with you on the brain. He had a lot of thoughts about the future for him, for you, just how he could be the best for you.

In the beginning, you didn’t see Yoongi that way nor did you think he thought of you like this. You always found him handsome of course, even in high school. That wasn’t something you ever denied. You just never put Yoongi and a potential boyfriend in the same category. He was popular then and he still was. Mainly because his family is rich and had so much power in Daegu. Everyone respected the Min family. They always had the best of the best. The best parties, the best cars, the best homes. You’ve been invited by Yoongi multiple times to come to one of his parties but you always declined to focus on your studies. By the time you graduated high school, Yoongi was already classified as a millionaire. But even with that, Yoongi wasn’t the typical popular guy. He didn’t ask for it, nor did he do anything in particular to gain popularity. He knew most people became his friend just for the status or for good looks. He was more on the quiet side and his other friends were the loud ones, he was in his own world most of the time. He only had two friends that he trusted, mainly because they’ve been in his life for as long as he could remember.

Namjoon was a few years younger than him. They never had class together, but they would always hang out with one another growing up. Namjoon’s father was best friends with Yoongi’s father. Even to this day, both of their fathers still consider each other great friends. They always took care of one another so naturally, Yoongi and Namjoon did the same for one another. Namjoon looked up to Yoongi, and he always wanted to make him proud oddly enough.

Seokjin on the other hand viewed both Yoongi and Namjoon as two younger brothers he never had. He didn’t have much of a relationship with his parents, in fact he hardly knew them. He always did things on his own until Yoongi’s father found him when he was just sixteen years old. Yoongi wasn’t looking for a sibling but when Seokjin came around, both Namjoon and Yoongi loved having him around. He was always cracking jokes and he always loved cooking. That’s where Yoongi learned how to cook, even if he hardly does it now. Namjoon could never get a hold of how to cook, but he didn’t need to, he was more book smart anyway.

You hardly remember seeing Seokjin or Namjoon while in school with Yoongi. You were pretty sure they were around but you were more focused on your school work than anything else.

With that being said, Yoongi wouldn’t talk to anyone other than his friends…and you when in class of course. You were different to him. He didn’t know if it would develop into anything, but he knew he liked you.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to become closer.

You quickly became friends that eventually became lovers.

Yoongi was everything you ever wanted in a boyfriend. He was sweet, he was attentive, he even cooked with you. He had a big beautiful home and money, you didn’t really care about that, but it was a nice perk. He loved taking you on dates, it was truly his favorite thing. He didn’t care where you wanted to go as long as he was with you. You guys mostly went out around evening time or after it was dark. You didn’t mind it too much since the streets of Seoul light up the best after dark. A truly beautiful sight. Hardly ever did you both have time to go out during the day, which was understandable since you were moving forward in your career and he had his own as well. You assumed he decided to work with his father to maintain his family riches or he really decided to take music seriously. You’ve heard a few of his songs and he’s really good.

You had days off but it seemed Yoongi never had any days off and he was always leaving, sometimes for days at a time. At first you were understanding, you didn’t want to question him about his work. But these work trips were becoming more frequent and more demanding. Some would last a few weeks, and you wouldn’t hear from Yoongi often; again usually at night wherever he was.

You found those work demands to be odd. He was always extremely tired and cuddly when he came home. You didn’t hate that but sometimes, it was concerning how he clung to you at the end of the night. It was almost like he had a guilty conscience when he came home. Nevertheless, you were always there for him. Never questioning him. Maybe working with his father was hard.

There was more than that though. Sometimes his co-workers or people who worked for him–actually not some times, damn near everyday– his workers would come over and talk business with him. For hours.

Yoongi also had so many people that would come over to your shared home on a daily basis. You remember back when Yoongi had asked you to come move in with him. He had maids, cooks, gardeners, even car keepers and mechanics would come by and perform certain tasks. Nothing out of the ordinary for someone that has lots of money, but different for you.

Most of the time, you guys wouldn’t drive. Yoongi always had a driver to take either you or him wherever you needed to go. You liked it, especially when you worked long hours and didn’t feel like driving but it was new to you.

He had it all. Anything you wanted, he got it for you and more. No matter the price. He even mentioned to you about building another home closer to your mom. When you guys would be at his home, your mom could stay in the other one. You wondered what your boyfriend and his father did to afford a lifestyle such as this. You presumed they were businessmen, since you knew his family owned a couple companies. Although Yoongi was gone a lot, often he would continue his work in his office. You hardly went in there, you couldn’t even remember what it looked like inside. The door was always locked. Only Yoongi, Namjoon and Seokjin held the password for the room which was odd to you, but you presumed that it was very important business in there, and since he had so many people in and out of your home, he didn’t want just anyone walking in and out of his office.

You’d met his mother but never his father. He was always busy and never able to get out of work. But yet, Yoongi’s father was always on these business trips with him.

You tried asking his mother about the work Yoongi and his father would work on, but she would stumble around the question or just sweetly tell you it was something for Yoongi to tell you, which he had no intention of doing. You never really asked, so, could you blame him? Today, that will change.

Finally building the courage, you decided that today you were going to ask the burning question.

Your fingers played with Yoongi’s long hair that rested against the nape of his neck, looking into his eyes. His eyes rest on your lips before looking into yours. Chuckling softly.

“What’s on that pretty mind of yours? Is there something you want? Whatever it is, it’s yours, no questions asked.” Yoongi smiled softly before he turned his head and gave the most chilling look possible to the chef and maid who were doing their duties in the kitchen.

“Do you mind? My girlfriend and I are having a private conversation,” his voice was teetering on the line of dark and demanding, but not rude. Just very stern and straight to the point.

They didn’t question him, they immediately dropped what they were doing and left the kitchen. Of course you were taken back but you didn’t question it either, he’s done it millions of times at this point, you were hardly phased by it.

“They didn’t have to leave baby. I just have a question,” you exclaimed. “They did, we deserve to have each other to ourselves before we head to work.” Yoongi smiled as his hands rubbed your waist. “Speaking of work..” you trailed off. His eyebrow cocked as you continued, “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“You’ve decided to allow me to take care of you?” Yoongi asked. You playfully rolled your eyes and scoffed as he chuckled from your response. “You already take care of me, my job is practically a stressful hobby at this point,” you laughed along with him. “All the more reason for you to leave it altogether” he soothed.

“Seriously baby, I have a real question,” you giggled, he lifted his hands and chuckled, surrendering “okay okay, love. Talk to me.”

You took a deep breath before pushing your words out. “I’ve been thinking, we’ve been together for a few years now, four to be exact, and I realized that you never told me about your job before. You’ve taken me to work parties and I’ve met your co-workers but I haven’t been to your job to, you know, bring you lunch or do other…things, you know? But what do you do? What’s your job title?” You both shared a small chuckle as you continued, “I just want to know what my man does.”

You couldn’t tell but Yoongi was genuinely taken aback by that question. He quickly realized you were right. He never told you anything about his job.

“You’re right baby, I guess I never told you, huh? Well, my father and I own a real estate company. We have different clients all over Korea, Japan, and the states. My father started it when I was younger and once I graduated, he began teaching me about the business so I could run it and pass it to my son. Whenever that happens.” Yoongi explained. “The reason for the recent jump into more traveling is my father wants to expand to Paris amongst other places.”

You believed him. No question about it. That would explain the many trips, late nights, and early mornings.

“That’s so cool. I bet you see so many beautiful places!” you smiled completely amazed. “I’m kind of jealous.”

“Baby, you can see any of those places and more. We can go whenever you want. I can easily have Namjoon or Seokjin take over for me for a while. They’re more than just co workers, they are like the..’boss’ when the boss is away. Name the place and we’ll be on the next flight,” Yoongi said, kissing your lips. You pouted. “You can take days off since you practically own the company, nursing isn’t so forgiving,” you said, popping a strawberry into your mouth after kissing him goodbye. “I’ll see you later tonight baby! I have some errands to run and your mom wants to meet up for a little!” you yelled as you walked towards your shared room and back to your stunning walk-in closet that looked like a room all on its own.

Yoongi let out a sigh of relief as you walked off. Leaning against the counter, his head was spiraling as Namjoon and Seokjin walked in.

“Why does it look like you’ve been stressing over an exam?” Seokjin joked while Namjoon scoffed playfully. Yoongi wasn’t in the mood to laugh.

“I just lied to my girlfriend…again.”

The guys looked at each other before looking at Yoongi. They never knew what to do in these situations.

“Truthfully boss, we told you it wasn’t a good idea. Especially with the life you currently live,” Namjoon advised.

Seokjin agreed, “You should have learned from your parents’ situation.”

Yoongi scoffed, “ I have no intention of marrying someone I don’t like, let alone love. I can’t live like that…” he trailed off thinking about you.

“You must really love her,” Seokjin said.

“With my whole heart.” Yoongi challenged, “There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s the one I love.”

“Then why haven’t you told her?”

Before Yoongi could answer you waltz back into the kitchen to kiss him goodbye.

“Oh, good morning Joon. Good morning Seokjin! I’m sorry for interrupting, I just wanted to tell Yoongi goodbye.” You smiled as you squeezed past them to get to Yoongi who’s smile hasn’t left his face since you entered the room.

“You weren’t interrupting anything, we were just talking about the day ahead. Speaking of, when you get home, let’s go somewhere tonight?” Yoongi asked, kissing your cheek gently.

“Okay baby, wherever you want to go.” You kissed his lips once more, “your mom is waiting for me! I’ll see you later. Bye Joon, bye Seokjin! See you soon!” you smiled as you headed out the door.

“Have a great day, yn.” Joon smiled

“Bring me back something special!” Seokjin joked, earning a look from Yoongi. “Have fun, yn. Stay safe!” Seokjin chuckled along with you as you left

Yoongi sighed once you were out the door.

“She seems pretty understanding, why won’t you just talk to her?” Namjoon asked, finally relaxing.

“She sees this big house, all your workers, the late nights, the traveling…why not just be honest?” Seokjin asked as he signaled the cook to come back and complete breakfast.

“We know what happens when people find out about our ‘work’; they no longer want anything to do with us. I don’t want that with yn. More importantly, the less people that know about her, the better chance I can keep her safe,” Yoongi admitted. “I’m afraid that once someone knows about her…I’ll lose her. Not because she found out, but because someone found out about her…”

Namjoon and Seokjin nodded.

“So…I guess we’re real estate agents now?” Seokjin joked, breaking the silence.

“Yes, we are. I need you two to go buy some property. Some here, some in Japan, and the states. I don’t care what you buy but just make sure it’s at least liveable. Something you can see yourself in. Maybe we could really sell something to bring in more revenue,” Yoongi said, tossing his keys to Namjoon as he headed back upstairs.

“And what are you going to do?”

“I’m going back to bed.”

The guys watched Yoongi run his fingers through his long locks as he yawned heading to his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

“I wish I could go back to bed,” Seokjin scoffed. “Lucky bastard.”

Namjoon chuckled, “There’s always time to sleep on the plane. Let’s go find some property to make us some money.” He wrapped his arm roughly around Seokjin’s shoulders as they headed out the door.

Yoongi didn’t go to sleep, though. He just laid there. Thinking about you. He knew his ‘job’ was gruesome in some– most cases. He knew his life up to now wasn’t something to be romanticized or even glorified. Noting he did was something you’d be proud about. You wouldn’t even find the things he did to be exciting or fascinating. You were too gentle and sweet to enjoy things like that. You hardly watched true crimes. You work as a nurse and sometimes you’d see the worst of the worst. Why would you want to come home and hear about the same thing you just handled at work? Yoongi saw how sometimes work took a toll on you, it killed him to hear about some of the cases that he was the cause for.

It really fucked him up in the head to hear about his girlfriend taking care of a person his guys handled on his behalf. He hated it. It’s one of the reasons why he wants you to quit.

But he knew if you did, you would be here alone, a lot. Then the questions would begin again and you would possibly find out the truth. Then you would leave him. Which he didn’t want, but if you ever left him, he couldn’t keep you safe. You and your family would be in danger, he couldn’t have that. You weren’t like his mother and he wasn't like his father. You really cared for one another. He wanted nothing but the best for you, and you wanted nothing but the best for him.

“She’s different, Sir,” one of his maids, Kai, said standing by the closet. Yoongi looked over at her before looking back at the ceiling. Kai has been his maid since he was a kid. He has a soft spot for her, so he hardly ever yells at her and he often comes to her for advice.

“I know. Isn’t she amazing?” he smiled softly. “I did nothing to deserve her.”

“You’re a good kid, too, Min. You’re better than your father,” she admitted sitting next to Yoongi. He sat up and nodded, chuckling. “Everyone is better than my father. There’s no questioning that.”

Now, Yoongi wouldn’t let a soul talk bad about his father. Deep down, he knew his father had good intentions. But he couldn’t deny the shit he put his family through, let alone Kai’s family.

“Just promise, no matter what..You’ll treat her with the same love and respect you show me and your mother.” Kai smiled.

Yoongi pulled his lips into a straight line and nodded, “Of course. I really love her Kai…I really do.”

“Oh? So a baby and a wedding soon?” Kai joked.

“Wedding? Possibly. A baby? To be determined,” Yoongi laughed.

#bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts jungkook #bts jhope #bts smut #bts angst #bts x reader #bts yoongi #bts jimin #bts namjoon #bts taehyung #bts jin #bts fluff #bangtanwhq

523 notes · View notes

minisugakoobies · 9 months

Text

Paradise Chapter 14 - Teaser | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, neighbors to lovers (not quite friends but not quite strangers), love triangle, Stripper!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Teaser Warnings: reference to blow jobs

Teaser Word Count: 859 (actual chapter TBD)

Disclaimers: None, other than obviously I don’t own BTS - they simply inspire me

A/N: Helloooooo… sorry it's taking so long for the next update. Here's a little peek at how the chapter begins. Can you believe we're coming up on 2 YEARS since this started?? 😳 Wild. Thank you for hanging on! 💕

(This chapter is still in progress, so this is subject to change!)

Paradise Main Masterlist 💜 Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

Turns out that impulsiveness looks pretty good on you.

Or so you think to yourself, catching your reflection in the mirror of the men’s room as you leave Jungkook to collect himself after giving him the best blow job of his life (your words - although, based on the look on his face as you’d swallowed, you might not be far off).

You hadn’t planned on dragging him into the bathroom like that, but upon seeing him walk out onto the terrace in that grey belted suit, looking like an absolute dream, well, you simply could not help yourself.

You also hadn’t meant to tell him you missed him last night. But you had, because you did. God, when had you turned into this - this massive simp? It was only yesterday morning that you’d woken up in Jungkook’s embrace. You’d barely spent 24 hours apart - so why were you so desperate to get back into his arms?

Of course, none of this matters right now. There are only minutes to go before the ceremony begins, and you need to pull your head out of the clouds and get back to Jennie and the others. Starting by escaping the men’s room sight unseen.

“YN!”

Or not.

As soon as you close the door, you hear Jin’s voice calling to you. He’s standing at the other end of the little hallway, near the entrance to the reception room.

“Hey,” you reply, trying to be the most nonchalant you’ve ever been in your life, as if you weren’t just gagging on Jungkook’s dick in a public bathroom.

Jin smiles as you approach, but there’s a gleam in his eye that makes you nervous, and you’re so busy trying to come up with a valid excuse for why he saw you emerging from the men’s room that you apparently forget how to walk, trip over the hem of your gown, and crash directly against his chest.

“Easy, tiger!” he laughs, arms locking around your back as he helps you stand back upright. “I’m used to ladies throwing themselves at me, but only you’ve taken it literally.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re pretty sure he’s not lying about fighting off admirers, given that he looks like a supermodel in his crisply tailored tuxedo. His bowtie is a little crooked thanks to being squashed by your face during your ungainly landing, so you gently fix it, and Jin thanks you with a soft grin.

“I left my glasses at home, so tell me - did I just see you leav-” Jin suddenly stops in the middle of his sentence, his gaze drifting over your shoulder. “Oh. Nevermind, I see.” He takes a step back, arms falling from your waist.

Another hand slips into yours.

Jungkook didn’t wait very long before following you out of the restroom. He squeezes your hand as you glance at him, but he stares directly at Jin, nostrils flaring slightly, eyes narrowed, lips pursed tightly as if - as if -

Oh, shit.

“You left this behind, jagiya.” Jungkook turns to you, his face shifting into a softer expression as he produces your clutch like some sort of trophy. You must’ve left it on the counter. “Did you want me to hold it during the ceremony?”

Your brain is lagging severely at the moment, trying to process two major facts at once. Fact one: Jin obviously realized that you were with Jungkook in the bathroom. Fact two: you completely forgot to tell Jungkook that Jin would be at the wedding. Which, given the events of the last 24 hours, it’s understandable that it slipped your mind, but this isn’t how you’d expected to officially introduce them.

On top of that, Jungkook has asked you a question. And is now waiting for an answer, while Jin watches in polite silence.

“Um. Yes. Sorry, yes, can you keep an eye on it for me?”

Jungkook nods, tucking the clutch into his jacket and patting it lightly. “Of course,” he says, nodding solemnly, as if you’d just asked him to protect precious goods and not a cheap bag full of tissues and mints.

Jin clears his throat lightly.

“Oh! I’m sorry, Jin, this is Jungkook, Jungkook, Jin.”

Of all the ways for these two to meet, this might not be the most embarrassing, but it’s definitely up there. There’s still a bit of Jungkook’s taste lingering on your tongue as the two men shake hands, Jin wincing slightly.

You try to quickly fill Jungkook in. “Jin’s the best man.”

“Sure am.” Jin grins.

“He and Yoongi grew up together,” you add, ignoring Jin’s little interjection, knowing that Jungkook didn’t miss it based on the way his jaw flexes violently, as if he’s gnashing his teeth.

“Nice to meet you, Jungkook. That’s quite a grip you have there.” Jin slides his hands into his pockets. “YN’s told me a little about you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Jungkook replies, inclining his head slightly. His hand returns to yours, fingers locking firmly. “Wish I could say the same, but YN never mentions you.”

You try to control your face as you look at Jungkook. What did he just say?

#bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts imagines #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #fic: paradise

148 notes · View notes

creative-crybaby · 2 years

Text

Desperate Times

PAIRING: Iwaizumi Hajime x fem!reader x Ushijima Wakatoshi

GENRE: college!au (post graduation, I suppose) | wee bit of angst/comfort | smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: threesome, double penetration, anal, oral (m and f receiving), overstimulation, fingering, light manhandling, mentions of voyeurism, mentions of cyber sex, tit-fucking, facials, mentions of masturbation (m), squirting, cum eating, size kink, creampie

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 6.2k

SUMMARY: The rare chance arises where you have both boyfriends to yourself, and you make sure to take advantage of your limited time together. All characters are 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here ya go, ya filthy animals <3 Final. Part.

Part 1: Desperate Times Calls for Desperate Pleasures

Part 2: Desperate Times Call

You made it work.

You tried to, at the very least. Not much was different between you and Iwaizumi; you’ve only grown closer with the change in your relationship status. School is out of the way, so now he can prioritize working under Utsui (and being with you, of course). Plus, you two already see each other every day—living together tends to do that to you. From his side, everything is simple: he wakes up to your sleeping form hugging his waist and goes to sleep with you by his side after a long day.

Ushijima doesn’t appear too bothered by the arrangement. When it comes to intimacy, you’d stick to how it all started: fucking your roommate while the volleyball player watches behind a lens, stroking his cock at the sight of your fucked out expression. You’d try to video call him whenever you could, and he has agreed with you when you’d whine about wanting to see him in person. Though, he still has volleyball as his top priority.

Truth be told, you may be the only one blowing the situation out of proportion. Iwaizumi’s plenty content waking up next to you every morning; Ushijima, while he misses you, has volleyball occupying him. Not that you don’t have a life outside of your boyfriends, but the possibility of neglecting them lingers in your head. You sometimes worry about the Schweiden Adlers member as you spend time with your roommate, then that stress shifts to the lack of attention you're giving him when he points out your distant stare.

You’ve gotten all sentimental, and you find it difficult to remember your carefree attitude from before. You don’t regret being with the athletes at all, of course, and while you haven’t changed completely, the difference between the current you and you from sophomore year wracks your brain. A couple of years is enough for one to grow, but you wish you didn’t care so much. Wished you had the same mindset as the men you love so much.

Your boyfriends are aware of your anxieties. They can’t say they blame you, though it’s not an easy problem to solve. You’re at your happiest when Ushijima visits, quick to pull both men along with you wherever you go to make up for the lost time. The last time the volleyball player was in your area, he had a game against an opposing group in that state. You couldn’t afford to go, though you rapidly pushed the spiky-haired male into your car and drove to the stadium as soon as you knew the game was over. You picked up your other boyfriend and brought him to your home, and that evening was spent with you riding him while stuffing your mouth with Iwaizumi’s cock.

So when Ushijima informed you of his plan to stay in California for a bit after your graduation, you were quick to offer to pick him up.

“My father is already going to do that.” The Schweiden Adlers player doesn’t miss how you falter at his words. “I’ll be staying with him, too, but I still plan on spending as much time as I can with you.”

As glad as you were to hear one of your boyfriends try to rebuild a relationship with their father, you can’t help but think about how much you’d like him all to yourself. The guilt from your selfish wishes soon follows, and you resume talking with him before eventually ending the call. Since then, you’ve repeatedly checked the date as if it would bring the volleyball player to you sooner. Even Iwaizumi had to threaten to take the calendar away should you let it continue to distract you.

Your roommate’s necessary threat didn’t stop you from bouncing your leg in anticipation as you waited for the desired date to arrive for you to drag your other handsome partner along.

So when you find said boyfriend standing at your door a couple of days earlier, your brain needs several seconds to process. With the initial confusion pushed aside (but not forgotten), you pounce on him. As tired as he may have been from his flight, Ushijima doesn’t mind the affectionate attack.

“You’re here,” you exclaim, words slightly muffled with your face buried in his neck. The volleyball player wraps his arms around you, the familiar warmth and musk tickling your senses. He hums in affirmation (not that it was necessary), and the sound of footsteps makes way to your ears.

“Hey, welcome back.” It’s your other (other?) boyfriend. Still holding onto Ushijima, you whip your head around.

“Did you know he’d be here sooner?” you ask somewhat accusingly. Iwaizumi’s wolfy grin–one that supposedly means “Surprise!”–makes you pout, but you’re quick to return your attention to the taller athlete. With a light peck on his cheek, your voice grows softer, sweeter. “How was your flight?”

Oh, you’ve changed, all right.

“It was fine,” he answers, gently placing you back down. Your arms remain secure around him. “My father picked me up, and my things are at his place. I’ll be having dinner with him tonight, so I won’t be able to stay here for long, but I still wanted to visit.”

You hide your disappointment by burying your face in his chest. Iwaizumi notices this and motions for Ushijima to enter.

“You must be tired still,” the spiky-haired male says, closing the door behind the other athlete. “How about some tea?”

The volleyball player nods. “Thanks.”

The visit was shorter than you would’ve liked. You’d try to get Ushijima to talk for as long as you could, not just out of interest, but in hopes he’d lose track of time as he’d recall one of his matches. Unfortunately, he’s the least talkative of you three. He noticed the time on the clock and announced it was time for him to leave. You masked your dismay with a chipper offer to make dinner for the three of you tomorrow, and his acceptance made you feel somewhat better.

The rest is routine whenever the volleyball player comes to visit: you’d follow him back to the entrance like a lost puppy, hug him for a little too long and pepper a little too many kisses on his face, and he remains quiet as you do so before giving you his rare but gentle smile. Then, he’s out the door.

A pair of bulky arms find their way around your waist from behind, and you lean back into the touch.

“You know you’ll see him tomorrow,” Iwaizumi murmurs against your neck, planting a light kiss there for good measure. You close your eyes, exhaling through your nose.

“Don’t worry, Hajime.” A teasing grin spreads on your face as you turn to face him. “I haven’t forgotten about you.”

Your roommate scoffs lightly, settling his chin on top of your head. “Not what I’m talking about.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Silence trails behind your dismissive mumble, and you rethink your actions during Ushijima’s visit. Even with his appearance not being as frequent as you’d like, would all the attention you give him to make up for the lost time make Iwaizumi feel neglected? You’ve voiced your concerns before, and even with his reassurance, you can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever cross a line neither of you knew was there.

Another kiss melts into your skin; this time, your temple.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi’s voice is soft as he gently pulls away from the embrace. With one of his hands cradling your cheek, he looks down at you with adoration. “It’s been a long day, even before Ushiwaka showed up. How about I run you a bath before dinner? You can use one of those bath bombs, too.”

You hum, leaning into his touch. “Will you join me?”

The spiky-haired male chuckles. “That was the plan, yeah.”

You smile coyly at him as your arms snake around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. He returns the affection, drawing you closer before signalling for you to jump by tapping your hip.

He’s carrying you to the bathroom like you weigh nothing. Your fingers tangle themselves in his messy locks as lust and need gradually replace the innocence in your kiss. Whatever paranoia consumed your thoughts has now disintegrated as Iwaizumi kicks the bathroom door closed behind him. You catch his expression as he pulls away and gently settles you down: with hooded lids and blown-out pupils, he has his appetite on full display as his hands glide down to the hem of your–his–shirt.

“Let me take care of you, pretty girl.”

Ushijima isn’t nearly as tired the next time you leap into his arms. Dare you say he was prepared for the impact, arms opening to hold your frame while you nuzzle your cheek against his. He greets Iwaizumi upon entering, walking to the couch like he’s back home with you gripping onto him like a koala.

“Let him breathe, (Y/N),” your roommate scolds.

“I don’t mind,” replies the Schweiden Adlers player, the baritone of his voice adding heat to your cheeks as you turn to grin mischievously at the spiky-haired male. He rolls his eyes at your childish response.

“So,” Iwaizumi starts, “I heard your team played against a team in Italy a few weeks back.”

Your other boyfriend nods. “We won.”

“Wish we could’ve watched it,” you slump against him. “I had exams at the time, and Haji was talking things out with your dad.” At the mention of his father, Ushijima turns to the other athlete in the room.

A proud grin itches onto Iwaizumi’s face. “I start working under him next week.”

You mask your snort by burying your face in the crook of Ushijima’s neck. “He’s totally in love with your dad, Toshi.”

The aforementioned boyfriend’s eyes trail down to your snickering form, then the glaring athlete sitting across from them. “A little strange, given our arrangement.”

“I’m not into your dad, Ushiwaka,” Iwaizumi grumbles, ears growing red as your giggling increases in volume. “She’s just messing with me. Nothing new here.”

You pull back from your hiding spot as your laughter dies down, looking up at the volleyball player. He returns your gaze with furrowed brows, though you know he’s not upset.

“Don’t worry,” you wink. “Your father remains safe for another day.”

“(Y/N), I swear to God—”

You squeal as you barely dodge the pillow your roommate threw at you (not with too much force, obviously). It slaps against Ushijima, pathetically bouncing off his chest and onto your lap. He watches you burst into another fit of giggles while the other athlete curses under his breath (something about “Shittykawa”).

“You should bring him over sometime,” you muse after calming down. “It’d be even cooler if we could see him in Argentina, but my wallet won’t let that happen.”

“Having you two in the same room in-person sounds like a terrible idea,” Iwaizumi immediately interjects, crossing his arms. You stick your tongue at him before facing Ushijima.

“I met Oikawa via video call a while back,” you clarify, then grin cheekily. “Is everyone in Miyagi as attractive as you guys, or am I just really lucky?”

“We’re not adding him to the mix,” the spiky-haired male grumbles.

“Don’t worry,” you shake your head at him before returning your attention to the volleyball player, eyelids drooping. “I’m plenty happy with you two.” You kiss him deeply, moaning into his mouth as he reciprocates the action. Your arms find themselves around his neck while your fingers toy with the hairs on the nape of his neck, and Ushijima pulls you closer in his embrace. Drawing back, you lock your eyes with his. ��You’re happy, aren’t you, Toshi?”

“Of course,” he breathes out, and it’s beautiful coming from such a stoic yet majestic being. You stamp a trail of kisses down his jaw to his neck, finding a vulnerable spot to sink your teeth in. A choked groan makes way to your ears, though it doesn’t come from the partner who currently has your attention.

“You’re a real tease, you know that?” Iwaizumi grunts as he watches the display before him.

You pull back, not bothering to hide your smirk. “Obviously.”

You catch Ushijima’s Adam’s apple bob as you leech back onto his neck. His breathing pattern, while slow, is shallow, and soon enough, you feel something poke your thigh.

Oh.

“Someone’s needy,” you drawl, separating from him once more to glimpse down at the bulge in his pants. The volleyball player presses his lips into a thin line as his brows crease.

“It’s been a while,” seems to be his reasoning. This is the closest you’ll ever get to a flustered Ushijima; what you wouldn’t do to have a camera right now.

You turn to Iwaizumi, also sporting an erection, and smile. “Guess we’re going straight to it, huh?”

He scoffs, palming himself as he mocks you. “Obviously.”

That seems enough for the volleyball player, who gently grabs hold of your jaw to pull you into another kiss. Having him tear your dress off suddenly makes you gasp, and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue in, his movements hasty and juxtaposing his personhood.

You like it.

He’s carrying you to another room—you’re not sure which one, too busy focusing on the heated kiss melting your tongue and watching your other boyfriend strip from the corner of your eye.

It’s Iwaizumi’s room; the mattress Ushijima gently plops you on isn’t as cushiony as yours. The loss of warmth from your partner puts a frown on your face, though a dreamy smile soon replaces it as your roommate enters in nothing but his boxers. You make grabbing motions towards him, and he joins you on his bed, kissing down your neck as you watch the volleyball player remove his shirt. Then his belt. Then his pants. Then—

Then a rough hand pulls your face to look away from the display. Your eyes meet blown-out pupils outlined in dark green; your lips, harshly with another pair.

Iwaizumi’s quick to hold you in his lap, needing you as close to him as possible while his hands map out every dip and curve and roll your body has to offer. You eventually feel your bra slide off your chest, the cool air making contact with your breasts and travelling down your spine. It only adds discomfort as your panties grow damper, and you grind your hips against your partner’s erection to soothe yourself. His response is a low groan, fuelling the lustful flames that dance in your lower stomach.

The bed dips behind you, and another pair of lips attach themselves to you: just as feverish, yet still as meaningful. More hands are on you, with these ones focusing on your mounds. Not a centimetre of skin on your chest was left untouched, from squeezing the soft flesh to rolling the buds between calloused fingertips.

It’s all too much. You pull away for air, gasping as Iwaizumi joins Ushijima in worshipping your body.

“Wait!” you pant out. The spiky-haired male stops suckling at your neck’s junction, but doesn’t release his hold. The volleyball player halts his movements, his lips barely ghosting over your skin.

“Do you want to stop?” You can feel his baritone against your nape, spiralling down to your core. Your panties cling against you like a second skin, and you’re certain you’re leaving a stain on Iwaizumi’s boxers.

“No,” you rasp, embarrassed by your sudden hesitation. “I want you both now.”

The slight crack of your voice shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was, but here the men were, attached to every one of your commands by a leash.

The athletes look up at each other, communicating through sharp gazes and a curt nod before they bring you to lie on your back. You watch with hooded lids as they reposition; Ushijima between your legs and Iwaizumi, now completely nude, on your chest with his thighs on either side of your body.

“How’s this?” Your roommate’s tone holds a sliver of playfulness as he peers down at you, teasingly stroking himself. You can’t see your other partner behind him–mainly because your focus is on the precum pearling at the tip of the cock only inches away from your face–though you find yourself absentmindedly nodding to the question. The spiky-haired male turns to your other boyfriend with a smirk and gives him a curt motion of confirmation.

Ushijima silently gets to work, lowering himself to face your covered core. You feel his fingers tugging at the waistband, and you try to lift your hips to help him remove the last article of clothing. His eyes remain glued to the string of slick connected to the cotton as he slides it down your legs, watching as it eventually separates and throwing the fabric somewhere in the room.

You’re clenching: empty. The volleyball player leans closer to your entrance, taking in your scent before burying his face between your thighs and wrapping his strong arms around your hips. His tongue barely teases you, if at all; it glides along your cunt with its tip flicking your clit. Just a drop of your taste is enough to bring him closer, plunging into your hole while nudging at the sensitive nub with his nose. For such a silent man, he was the loudest in this environment; him feasting on your pretty pussy can’t go unnoticed as it echoes throughout the room and rings in your ears. Had it not been for your current position, you’d be digging your nails into his scalp as encouragement.

For now, your eyes remain on the thick cock standing tall before you.

“Open up, pretty.” It comes out as a mix between a coo and a command. Iwaizumi grips onto the base to lead his shaft to your mouth. Peering up at him, you decide to grab hold of your tits, separating them. He gets the message, placing his dick between the soft mounds before you squish them together. His tip barely pokes out from in between, and you loll your tongue out to tease the sensitive head as he begins thrusting. Saltiness lingers on your tastebuds with every stroke, and your roommate’s pants add to the symphony started by your other partner’s vigorous smacking and slurping.

You feel Ushijima lift your legs, hooking them over his shoulders as he quickens his pace. You hum around Iwaizumi’s tip from the gluttonous dance performed by the volleyball player’s tongue. Your arms hug the spiky-haired male’s thighs, nails marking crescents on his skin as your orgasm approaches.

With your breasts no longer suffocating his cock, Iwaizumi takes the opportunity to shove more of him down your throat. The sound of you gagging almost overpowers Ushijima’s melody, and your roommate has to refrain from turning this detail into a competition. He instead relishes your warm mouth and how perfect your glossy lips look wrapped around him. The tears forming at the corners of your eyes don’t go unnoticed, either, and they only cascade down your cheeks once his strokes go deeper.

A familiar warmth fills your mouth as Iwaizumi’s hips still. You hollow your cheeks, swallowing every thick drop he can offer you with a hazy enthusiasm. Your gaze doesn’t leave your partner’s stiff form above you, his struggle to keep his eyes open almost entertaining. He can be stubborn when he wants to, and if you could see yourself from his perspective, see how ethereally lewd you look, you’d understand his persistence.

Your roommate empties his cum down your throat and pops his dick out with a shaky breath. With your eyes never leaving him, you give his tip a final peck before he rolls off of you.

All your attention goes to Ushijima, your fingers planting themselves in his hair as he continues his endeavours. You feel his lips wrap around your clit, sucking harshly at the tiny nub as his hold on your lower half tightens. And for good reason, too, as your hips buck erratically from the heavy engagement. With every suction, the string thins.

Until it snaps.

You hold the volleyball player in place as he does the same with you, his mouth continuing its actions as the orgasmic tsunami forces you underwater. It’s too much; you hardly notice the clear liquid staining the sheets and your partner’s chin. Not that he minds, of course.

Ushijima gently places your legs down as you release your tight hold on his hair, your body limp against the mattress as you try to catch your breath. A hand –Iwaizumi’s–swipes stray tears away from your cheeks, and the spiky-haired male plants a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Ready for more?” he asks, his voice nearly faint, as if speaking any louder may hurt you. Noticing the volleyball player moving to sit next to your frame, you try to sit up with your partners’ help. With a meek nod, you manage to shift to sit in between Iwaizumi’s legs before motioning for your other boyfriend to sit on his knees. With the two athletes getting the memo, the former holds your legs open with his own while the latter pumps his cock inches away from your swollen lips. The angry burgundy tip stares at you as you invitingly open your mouth.

With barely half of the shaft in, you’re full. The head tickles the back of your throat, though you avoid gagging with little to no struggle. Having plenty of time with your roommate, you’ve gotten to practice swallowing his dick whole. And when the volleyball player occasionally manages to come over, you can take more of him every time with more ease.

Your focus is so heavily on pleasing Ushijima that you don’t notice Iwaizumi sliding a hand between your thighs until it’s too late. A finger swipes across your cunt, earning a muffled gasp out of you as it collects your slick. More silence sounds escape you as that same digit enters your hole, stretching you out with each pump. The vibrations from your noises attack the volleyball player’s cock, making him grunt as you bob your head up and down his shaft, your tongue poking out to massage the underside. It’s a sort of pipeline: Iwaizumi’s finger–sorry, two fingers now–stroke your sweet spot while his thumb plays with your clit, causing you to moan along to the orchestra that is the lewd squelching between your legs, all the while adding to Ushijima’s pleasure as his cock stuffs your mouth full.

Three fingers: that’s what tips you over the edge once more. It usually does the trick, though, and with the effects of your previous orgasm lingering on your body, you finish quicker than you normally would. You freeze as euphoria travels through your veins, your eyes crossing as more tears spill. Another puddle finds itself on the sheets as you squirt once more, drenching the hand that caused the mess. Iwaizumi holds you closer while Ushijima caresses your cheek. It does little to soothe the ache in your jaw or swat away the exhaustion that follows the orgasmic high, but both are appreciated nonetheless.

When your senses return, you aren’t given the chance to finish the job; Ushijima pops his dick out of your mouth, rapidly stroking it until he reaches cloud nine. With your tongue lolling out, you catch some of the ropes of cum spurting out of his slit, though most of it either ends up on your face or chest. The heavy pants that follow the mess are a sign for you to open your eyes, and the godly sight that is one of your boyfriends greets you: a softening monstrous cock, flexing muscles with every heaving breath, vermillion flush staining his chest, neck and face, swollen parting lips, and furrowing brows.

Reality trickles back once you feel fingers sliding out of you, that same hand wetly tapping your thigh. Slowly turning your head, you’re met with lips slamming against yours that you would’ve lost balance had it not been for the muscular arm around your waist.

“Still got it in you, pretty?” Iwaizumi breaks from the mini makeout session to ask. You’re left in a daze as he nibbles on your shoulder, your other partner lowering himself to mark the opposite side of your neck.

“You still got the lube, right?” you breathe out. The spiky-haired male pauses his actions, Ushijima only slowing down his own at your question. “Want both of you at once.”

Your roommate’s touch immediately abandons you as he dismounts the bed to retrieve the bottle. The Schweiden Adlers member takes this short moment to grab some tissues from the nightstand to clean your face and chest, holding you as you try to regain some energy, knowing damn well you’ll need every bit of it.

“Are you sure you want this?” Ushijima hasn’t spoken since before everything started, his baritone snapping some sobriety back in you. You give him a droopy smile, planting a delicate kiss on his cheek.

“I’m sure, Toshi,” you whisper, and he feels his heart flutter at the nickname. “I know what I’m getting into, don’t worry.”

“You can stop whenever you want.” His voice remained monotonous, and maybe it’s the sex haze, but you swear you can hear panic there.

Still, you giggle. “I know. The rules haven’t changed since the arrangement started.”

Iwaizumi returns with a mostly-full bottle of lube. You two have dipped your toes in anal play, though this is the first time you’re going any further.

“You sure about this?” he asks, his voice and expression soft (or as soft as it can get with such sharp features and arched brows). You let out a half-sigh, half-snort at his question.

“I’m not made of glass, you know,” you tiredly quip, “and your dicks aren’t weapons of mass destruction. I won’t be doing much of the work, but what else is new?”

The athletes share a look as if they were reminding each other to be careful with you.

“All right,” Iwaizumi climbs onto the bed, “how do you want us, then?”

You lean into Ushijima’s chest with a hum, your cheek squishing against one of his pecs. “You take the back. Toshi, up front.”

With both partners nodding, they hoist you to sit on the volleyball player’s lap. His cock is hard again, poking at your stomach before you lift yourself by your knees to aim the tip at your entrance.

He could’ve sunken into you a thousand times, and you’re certain you still wouldn’t have been able to take him without at least a little bit of pain. Thanks to your previous orgasms, he can slide in much more easily, though that isn’t to say the burn is nonexistent.

Ushijima takes his time, examining your reaction as he adds another inch. His grip on your waist is tight, but not bruising, knowing you’ve got enough on your plate. Iwaizumi, meanwhile, tries to distract you by peppering kisses on your shoulder blade. You hope your focus on his lips against your skin will pass the time, but the clock’s arms seem to slow down the more you’re stretched open.

He’s in, though. You’re certain he’s made room for himself in your guts, feeling him there with every breath. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you hiss, but he doesn’t say anything as you try to adjust.

“(Y/N),” Iwaizumi starts, his words somewhat muffled your back against his lips, “are you sure you want to keep going?”

“Yeah,” you gasp. Despite your roommate’s concern, you can feel his cock poking your back.

He hesitates. “We can go one at a ti—”

“I wanna feel both of you.” You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt Ushijima’s thumb swipe away a few tears. You give his palm a loving peck, your glossy eyes peering up at him. “I don’t know when will be the next time I’ll have you two together. I can handle it.”

You’ve grown soft, Iwaizumi thinks. Then again, maybe you were always like this. He doesn’t know much about your previous relationships, and even if he did, you could’ve matured since then. You’re still outgoing, and your teasing hasn’t stopped since you started dating both athletes. Your promiscuity hasn’t died down at all, not that the spiky-haired male is complaining. The difference now is the lovestruck looks you’d give them; whether you think they don’t notice (even though you aren’t slick and they totally catch you) or you’re afraid they’d forget how dear they are to you (they couldn’t even if they tried), it’s one of the main acts dedicated only for them.

Iwaizumi can see that same look when you turn to face him, even with a layer of tears fogging your vision.

He presses his lips against your warm and damp cheek. “Okay.”

You sigh shakily, adjusting your position for him to better prep you.

He’s using more lube than the previous times you’ve experimented, you can tell. With each careful finger he’d only slide in on your command, you could feel him take his time stretching you out, pumping and scissoring until he’s convinced you’re ready.

Of course, his dick isn’t the same as his fingers. Iwaizumi’s made it very clear that he’s going at your pace, and you appreciate it when he’d add more lube whenever you’d ask. It hurt less over time, though it’s still a strange and foreign feeling. The spiky-haired male sprinkles feather-light kisses on the nape of your neck while Ushijima cradles your cheek, and their soft touches almost lull you to serenity.

You have to remind yourself of the current situation. “You two can move now.”

“We’ll be gentle,” Iwaizumi assures, adjusting his hold on your waist as your other partner lowers his grip to your hips.

The first few thrusts are hesitant, unsure of a rhythm. The stretch of both holes has you hissing, though you don’t want to stop. This is the closest you’ve felt to the athletes, albeit physically speaking: sandwiched between them, stuffed to the brim. Soft lips and calloused hands guarantee your safety. Promise of delicacy.

And eventually, the pain lessens. Your boyfriends find a tempo, still gentle, and whimpers and broken moans replace your hisses. Iwaizumi whispers in your ear, praising you for taking both of them so well and being so good. Ushijima’s forehead finds yours, his eyes fluttering to stay open and watch your every reaction. When one cock slides out, the other moulds your hole to its shape; you’re desperate to savour everything happening, even if it drives your senses into overdrive. With your thighs too weak to hold your body up, you’re grateful for them doing the work, the muscle trembling every time you flex it.

“More,” you choke out. “I can take it. Please.”

Ushijima grunts, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. “Are you sure—”

You stop his lips with your own, halting his breath in his throat as your hands slide up his heck to hold his face. And when you pull away with hooded lids, you give Iwaizumi the same attention, turning his head to face you as you take his breath away.

“I’d tell you to stop if I needed you to,” you promise after pulling away. “It feels good, and I want more.”

Again, your boyfriends share a look: brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. The several seconds of silence make you antsy, though that feeling soon evaporates when both men adjust their hold on you.

Ushijima’s the first to thrust back in, and your body jolts at the sudden impact. Iwaizumi’s quick to follow, drilling his hips upwards as the volleyball player slides out. Back and forth, back and forth: you’re never fully empty.

“S-Shit!” you shriek, squeezing your eyes shut as your nails find Ushijima’s shoulders once again. You can’t contain your cries, not when there’s a swordfight happening in your guts. Could they feel the other’s cock inside you? “More, more! Just like that!”

Both men have their torsos pressed against you as they fuck up into you. You can feel Iwaizumi’s heartbeat hammer at your back, same with your other boyfriend’s against your chest. Or maybe that’s your heart causing the racket? Could the volleyball player even truly get nervous? You’ve seen him uncertain, sure, but nervous? Or maybe that’s adrenaline you’re feeling against you?

So many questions for someone whose brain is literal mush. You can no longer form a coherent sentence; what makes you think you can create a single thought now?

Oh, wait. Nothing.

“Cumming,” you manage to slur out, legs shaking. “Gonna cum again.”

“Shit,” Iwaizumi mutters against your neck. “Go ahead, pretty. Make a mess for us, yeah?”

You can’t see well with the tears fogging your vision, but with Ushijima so close to you, it’s not hard to tell that his eyes are silently urging you to finish. And when a hand–whose, you aren’t sure–slides down to give your poor clit some much-needed attention, you can’t go against their encouragements even if you wanted to.

With little to no space between you three, you hardly move when your body hurdles forward from the impact of your orgasm. You’re squirting again, and it almost hurts as you gush onto the athletes’ muscular thighs. Your choked wail is muffled by Ushijima’s shoulder, your grip on them gone and now on his biceps. If your markings hurt him, he doesn’t show it. Or rather, it can be mistaken for the pleasure that comes from his own orgasm, flushed face twisting to bliss as he grits his teeth behind sealed lips. Iwaizumi’s not far off, either, sloppily thrusting into you a few more times before biting down on your shoulder to quiet his groan.

Even as your body burns from adrenaline, you still feel both boyfriends spill their load inside you. It has you quivering even more, toes curling against the messy sheets as you try your hardest to sit up longer.

You’re still warm once your high evaporates, the bulky frames of your boyfriends giving you little room to breathe. The thin layers of sweat blanketing your bodies don’t help, either. At the very least, the two athletes continue to hold you up. You can’t even do that by yourself.

“I’m going to get her a towel and some water,” Iwaizumi quietly tells Ushijima. “Hold onto her while I’m gone.”

The volleyball player wordlessly follows your other partner’s order, wiping away stray tears as you weakly cling onto his build. He’s grown more comfortable holding you like this over time: still cautious to avoid hurting you, though doesn’t shy away from physically showing you the affection you deserve.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, carefully examining your frame in his hold.

You tiredly shake your head, rasping out a small chuckle. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a bit, but I’m fine otherwise.”

His eyes glimpse upwards, as if pondering. “I can carry you around.”

“I know, dear.”

Iwaizumi returns not long after, and you groan as Ushijima shifts you to sit up.

“Careful,” you quip with a wince. “I’m sensitive.”

“That’s usually the case, yeah,” your roommate replies monotonously, watching cum ooze out of your holes before gently wiping the towel across your cunt. He rubs a soothing hand on your thigh when you flinch. “Thank God for birth control.”

“Oh, hush.” you scoff, eyebrows creasing as he continues to clean you. The water bottle he brought sits next to him, leaning against his thigh almost tauntingly. A large hand from behind you takes it, unscrewing the lid.

“You need to rehydrate.” The baritone rumbles against your back as the Schweiden Adlers player speaks. He brings the bottle to your lips. “Drink up.”

The bottle shakes slightly once in your hold, and you take light sips in between intervals. “I don’t think I’ll be able to make dinner for us tonight.”

“No worries,” Iwaizumi responds curtly, placing the towel to the side. “We can order takeout for tonight.”

Your eyes light up, though you don’t make an effort to move. “Can we order from that new place down the block?”

“Whatever you want.”

You turn your head to peer up at Ushijima excitedly, a smile stretching wide across your face it almost hurts your cheeks. “You gotta try their food, Toshi. I think we have their menu around here somewhere. We can help you pick something out.”

“Hey,” your roommate tuts, tone sharp as he heads to his closet. “Don’t tire yourself out even more. Relax.”

“Yes, mother.” He glares at your response, walking back with a large t-shirt and some shorts. You eye the clothes with a groan. “I think I need a bath first.”

You yelp when you suddenly feel yourself being hoisted up.

“We’ll help clean you up,” Ushijima offers as he dismounts the bed with you in his arms. It sounded more like a statement, actually, and it seems that he meant it as he walks out of Iwaizumi’s room with him in tow.

Your eyes flutter closed, half-listening to the spiky-haired male scolding the volleyball player to be careful with you.

What do you have to worry about? It’s not this simple: those anxieties may continue to poison your thoughts. They should leave eventually, no doubt, but until that happens, you’ll remind yourself as many times as necessary that the support that follows you on your journey.

You made it work.

You’re making it work.

And you’ll continue to make it work.

#hq #haikyu #haikyuu #fanfic #fanfiction #haikyu!!#haikyuu x reader #smut #ushijima wakatoshi #iwaizumi hajime #shiratorizawa #aoba johsai #seijoh #ushijima smut #iwaizumi smut #ushijima x reader #iwaizumi x reader #college!au

1K notes · View notes

raffe156 · 1 year

Text

Chain Mail and Silk

Pairing - Price X MC (Tank) F!reader

Summary - Little fluff drabble for the Knights AU

A/N - The brain rot I have for this AU is crazy haha I wrote this today while nursing a hangover from being out very late last night so please enjoy!

I really appreciate all the recent feedback and asks! Please keep em coming! Especially to the anon that started this DLC 🤣

Warnings - slight angst, forbidden love? Language, fluff, Age gap Relationship, Price (40) Tank, (25) she defo should be married off by that age haha

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters - Only Tank & Luke

Tags: @shuttlelauncher81 @fanficandartgal @deadbranch @soapyghost @mostannoyingbillioner @chb-7

“My lady, please let me finish it off for you, your fingers look sore…” Cece pleaded with you.

“No…it’s quite alright…ow…I want to do it myself”

A few more stitches an you were finished, your initials just legible in gold thread, it wasn’t perfect but it would do. You looked at Cece triumphantly.

“Very nice mlady”

“Let’s just hope he actually does ask for my favour after all that”

********

Price watched as you took your seat in the royal box, your father being an advisor to the king allowed for that privilege. He had donned his best armour and rode out onto the field, his heart pounding with anticipation. The slight scandal of him asking for your favour was not lost on him. He was the knight commander his mind was meant to be focused on battle plans and strategies, not wooing a lady of the court 15 years younger than him.

Your eyes fixed on him as he rode towards you. You had convinced yourself he wasn’t going to ask you and ask one of the other women instead, but there he was just below you with that eye crinkling smile that made your heart flutter.

“My lady, may I ask for your favour? Such a token would be an honour to an old knight commander such as myself” there were a few mumbles as you leant forward.

“Of course Sir Price” you handed him your handkerchief his hand holding on to yours for a few seconds longer than needed. As you slowly withdrew your hand Price looked down at the silk handkerchief, your initials embroidered in gold thread on the corner, just under the last stitch a tiny dark spot, you must of pricked your finger.

“Thank you my lady, I shall keep it next to my heart for it shall protect me better than any chain mail” he bowed his head as he folded it up tucking it under his breast plate. You bowed your head in return his kind words making your cheeks flush. The mumbling started up again, but you didn’t care, The knight commander had asked for your favour.

*******

The day was long and grueling, but Price fought with all his strength and skill. And in the end, he emerged victorious, having unhorsed all his opponents and won the tournament. Even at his age his level an skill never let him down even against men half his age.

As he removed his helmet and wiped the sweat from his brow, he felt a surge of pride and joy at the sight of you stood applauding his final victory your eyes wide with excitement. He hoped Garrick had got the message to Cece that he wanted to meet with you later that night in the eastern tower.

*******

As the whole castle slept you creeped through the dark corridors all the way to the eastern tower a tall candle lighting your way. You climbed the steep stone steps to the top opening the door to the small room, you thought maybe Price had changed his mind as it was empty but then from the shadows he appeared his dark blue eyes as if light from behind greeted you from the dark.

“I thought you’d changed your mind” you placed your candle on a near by dresser.

“Never…” he closed the distance between you in one stride, his arms wrapping around you pulling you back tight to his chest his face buried in your hair.

“You did well today, I heard the king singing your praises and you made a lot of men very rich by the way” you rested your hand on the back of his head.

“I don’t care about making other men rich and I’d take you singing my praises over the king any day” he mumbled the words into your hair.

“Don’t let the king hear you say that…or my father for that matter…he still wants me married off to sir Luke the one with the highland cows” Your words made Price step back he hated when you spoke of your fathers numerous attempts at marrying you to the highest bidder, it caused his heart to ache and blood to boil.

“Sir Luke can gladly fuck off…” Price scowled at even the repetition of the name.

“Never mind all that…..what was it you wanted to show me?” There was that child like excitement in your eyes again, your hands clasped together tight.

“Sit down” he guided you to sit in the small seat by the candle light, the glow illuminated your face and it almost caused his heart to cease, you were the most beautiful creature he had ever had the grace to lay eyes upon and here you were entertaining an old fool of a man.

Price handed you a small velvet box. Inside was his gold signet ring, his family crest engraved on the front.

“I know this is not nearly as beautiful as your handkerchief," he said, "But I hope you'll wear it in some form as a symbol of my love for you” as he spoke you took the ring from the box and slipped it on to your ring finger holding your hand up to admire how it looked in the candle light, you smiled at him, your best smile only reserved for him, it made his heart pang back to life in his chest.

“It looks rather nice on that finger doesn’t it?” Your smile turned to a grin. Price gave you a small smile, he would love nothing more than to slip a wedding band onto your finger, fully an finally claiming you as his an him yours, for the whole kingdom to see, but that was a new kind of war he hadn’t yet planned a strategy for, but for now he simply agreed with you.

“It does my love…it truly does” he held your hand up kissing it just below where the ring sat.

******

You had both been talking for hours entangled on the old ornate lounger as the tall candle was now just a wick fighting to stay alight.

“You better get back to your chambers mlady…I’m sure Cece will be thinking I’ve had my wicked way with you…” Price nuzzled his face into your neck his beard tickling you.

“I’m sure she will be climbing the walls, that or hunting poor Garrick down!” You laughed at the thought as you made you way to the door Garrick was a highly decorated knight and had fought in many battles but he was terrified of little Cece.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” You looked back at him.

“I’ll make sure to find you, maybe I’ll escort you on you afternoon ride? Cece permitting” He bowed his head taking your hand in his again to kiss it. You longed for his kisses on other parts of your body. Parts that made your skin run hot an heart to beat loud like a drum.

“I’d very much like that…” you made your way down the steep steps the cold wall guiding you down.

“Good night mlady” he bowed his head once more. This parting ways was always bittersweet as now you had to return to your respective roles only offering small glances an secret smiles across crowded rooms. Price watched as you made your way back to your chambers the glow from the moon lighting your way. Though it pained him, he knew you would hold his token of love close to your heart an he yours.

159 notes · View notes

kitten4sannie · 1 year

Text

16 - ꜱᴀᴅɪꜱᴍ - ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ

ʟɪʟʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴀʟʟᴇʏ

pairing: mafia boss! jongho x fem! reader

genre: mafia/gang au, thriller??, smut

summary: as the leader of an infamously cruel gang, jongho makes sure his men, as well as his pretty plaything, know their place.

w.c: 2.6k

warnings: *possibly triggering content* violence, murder(s), use of a gun (gunplay...), blood, sadism, hard dom! jongho, sub! reader, mention of sex work, exhibitonism, pet names, name calling, heavy degradation, one single slap, choking, dacryphilia, unprotected sex

a/n: idt you guys are ready for this ;; truly this is the most out-of-pocket thing i've ever written like i saw sadism and my brain just did all of this …. like just be warned bc this one's reallyyyy intense!

FFF Masterlist

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

“Your tea, sir,” you spoke softly, setting a black tray holding a small jade teapot and a single celadon teacup down onto your boss's mahogany desk, trying to hide your trembling fingers by lowering them to your sides, giving him a bow out of forced respect.

Jongho held out a single hand, pressing two fingers together and making the ‘come hither’ motion. You swallowed, heading around the desk, waiting for further instruction. He reached up to grab you by the jaw and brought you down to his level, his lips just barely brushing over yours. “I love it when you act all proper, like you aren’t just a filthy little whore that I use day after day. Weren’t you just on my cock a few hours ago?”

“S-sir, please…” You gripped his shoulders, your cheeks burning, loving and hating that he treated you like this in front of all his men, who you prayed were still talking to one another and not paying you any attention. A swift smack to your cheek brought your focus back onto the powerful man below you.

“How do you think you’re ever going to please me if you don’t cater to my every whim, lily?” Jongho questioned, calling you by his nickname for you, his voice sugary sweet, despite the rough squeeze he had on your jaw.

You previously worked at a popular massage parlor in the red-light district, coined The Flowerbed. Of course, it was owned by Jongho; he owned and ran most of the places of business on his side of town. He visited once in a while to see how things were running, always making sure to see you, enticed by your seemingly innocent persona, despite your ability to suck and fuck him with unwavering enthusiasm. Finding himself coming back time and time again, he set you free from your debt that you owed when he brought you home to his residence — though you weren’t really free. You still had to share your body with someone, though this time around, it was a cruel, bloodthirsty gang leader, rather than some sweaty, drunken man who had a couple hundred dollars to spend.

Jongho's eyes narrowed. “Now, admit you were just riding me in my office earlier, before I get upset.”

“Y-yes, I was…and S-sir, I’d love nothing more than to please you. You know that,” you replied, with a small smile, before glancing downwards, taking note of the still steaming tea on his desk, pointing to it. “Your tea, sir. It’s going to get cold.”

Jongho’s cold, unfeeling eyes bored into you, studying your nervous features, his fingers running along your jaw. “Such a sweet, caring girl.” He leaned in to run his lips and tongue up your exposed neck, stopping just underneath your jaw near your ear, whispering, “You’re just an innocent little flower that’s living amongst a sea of thorns, aren’t you? How will you ever grow without getting ripped to shreds?”

Shuddering when he sucked on your skin, your hands drifted down his sleek black suit, feeling his muscles through the expensive material. “A little pain never hurt anyone, sir. I can take whatever you give me.”

Satisfied with your answer, your boss slowly let go of your jaw and patted your still stinging cheek. “That’s what I like to hear. Now, go sit down somewhere and look pretty for me.”

Once you were free from his grasp, you brought your arms to your sides and bowed again, before scurrying off to the opposite side of the room. You weaved past various members of his gang who were watching you with hungry eyes, some of their hands settled inside their pockets, some of the more trigger-happy ones running their calloused fingers over their glocks.

You sat down on one of the leather couches nearby, trying to leave enough space between yourself and the large man sitting beside you, anxiously fiddling with your skirt. Your eyes remained on Jongho, your body tense as you watched him bring the teacup to his lips, only to set it down. He picked up his vibrating phone instead, answering a call.

A strong hand settled down on your thigh, his fingers squeezing into your soft flesh, the man’s body leaning over to yours to inhale your scent, his tongue sliding out of his mouth to swipe across your neck. “Mm, I can see why the boss likes you so much. You taste so good. I bet your pussy tastes just as sweet.”

About to crawl out of your skin from repulsion, you pushed his hand away, only for him to grab you by your arm, yanking you closer to him. “Please, stop it…”

Ignoring the concerned looks of his coworkers, their eyes practically bulging out of their skulls from how hard they were staring at him, the man scoffed, slipping his arm around your waist, holding you with an iron grip. “But you’re such a whore for the boss. Why don’t you like it now?”

Just as you were about to explain yourself, the sound of Jongho’s leather chair groaning as he pushed off of it made you close your mouth back up. The men in the room quieted down, some of them backing up out of their boss’s way, their heads lowering out of respect, but mostly out of fear. The tension in the meeting room was so intensely palpable, you’d probably need a chainsaw to cut through it.

Jongho’s heavy black oxford shoes clicked against the floor as he walked around the leather couch and rested his hands on the top of it, standing behind you and the man who slowly let go of you. He cleared his throat, making you both crane your necks to look back at him with wide eyes. “You know, you’re right,” Jongho started in a low tone, reaching out to wrap a lock of your hair around his finger. “She is a whore. A dirty little bitch that’ll get on her knees anytime I ask her to.”

The man chuckled nervously, nodding his head in an exaggerated fashion, a few strands of his slick backed hair starting to fall into his face. “Right? I knew you’d agree, Boss.”

His expression turning sour, Jongho slipped his hand into his back pocket, glaring down at his subordinate with so much ferocity, the man was seconds away from pissing himself. “The thing is, she’s my whore, and mine alone.”

“Boss, I didn’t mean–” Before the gang member could explain himself, Jongho pulled his revolver out and fired a single shot in between his eyes, making the man’s face freeze up, then go completely lax. He slumped over onto you, making you scream and shove his lifeless body onto the floor, his bullet wound leaking onto the blood-proof mats below.

Jongho snapped his fingers, causing a few of his men to jump into action, picking up the man’s body and slowly dragging him away, most likely taking him to the incinerator in the basement. Someone else grabbed the cleaning supplies in the corner of the room and got down onto their knees, cleaning up the blood while whistling a simple tune. You simply sat there, staring forward at the full tea pot on Jongho’s desk, wiping the blood from your forearms, in a state of shock. It was time for Plan B.

“Apparently, some of you don’t understand your place,” Jongho informed the surrounding men, giving some of them immediate stomach aches. He placed his hands on your shoulders, leaning himself down to press his lips to your ear. “Darling lily, don’t you think you should demonstrate your loyalty to me so that all these fuckheads know who you belong to?”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, sir,” you replied in a somewhat shaky voice, of course terrified of him, but finding yourself to be turned on as well. Maybe being around a bunch of monsters who found solace in murder, sex, drugs and the combination of the three rubbed off on you. Or maybe you were always this way, simply waiting for outside influences to corrupt you further.

Jongho sat down on the couch next to you, pushing his raven hair back, his large thighs spreading apart. “On your knees.”

You obeyed him, climbing off of the couch and sitting on your knees before him, looking up at him for further instruction. The men in the room made themselves comfortable against the wall or on the other couches, waiting for the show to begin.

Jongho looked down at his revolver, admiring the sleek black edges, thumbing the chamber to watch it spin. “You know, my father, may he rest in peace, gave this revolver to me before he died.” He rested it down on his crotch for a moment, studying your timid expression, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips in anticipation. “You know what he said to me when he put it in my hands?”

“What did he say, sir?” you asked in the softest voice you could conjure up, jolting slightly when Jongho leaned down to slide his fingers into your hair, stroking it.

“He said this gun isn’t just good for killing. It has other uses.” Jongho lifted his revolver to your mouth, nudging your lips with the cold steel tip. “Such as watching pretty whores suck on it like they would with a cock.”

Shivering with fear and arousal, you placed your hands on his thighs, your fingers clutching them tightly. “Th-there’s no bullets in it, right, sir? You wouldn’t do that to me, right…?”

Letting out a low chuckle, taking delight in the way the color slowly drained from your face, Jongho gripped your chin and tilted it up, commanding, “Suck. If you do it right, I won’t blow your brains out…and maybe I’ll let you have the real thing.”

Glancing at one of the men standing behind Jongho, you begged for his help with your eyes, making a small whimpering sound. The man slowly shook his head, mouthing the words ‘not yet.’

Jongho growled, tugging your face forward, his fingernails digging into your skin. “You better show me what you got before I paint the walls with your blood, little flower.”

Already sniffling, your thighs squeezing together, you parted your lips, allowing the barrel of the gun into your mouth. “M-mm…” you murmured, slowly sucking on it like you would when you gave Jongho head.

Jongho licked his lips, grabbing you by your hair near your scalp and holding you still, sighing, “Look at you, about to cry for me. You’re so sweet and soft for me, pretty girl. It makes me want to break you…”

With your body trembling, you allowed the entire barrel into your mouth, your eyebrows drawing togther after tasting the cold metal. You felt a surge of nausea overcome you when you watched him cock the gun, making you let out a few small whimpers, your eyes wet with incoming tears.

“Cry for me, baby,” he groaned, his cock straining against his black tailored pants, clicking the trigger three times in a row, sending you into a state of shock.

You shut your eyes instinctively, letting out a muffled cry, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, dragging your black mascara down. When you opened your eyes back up, you were still alive, still sucking on the gun like your life depended on it, which it did, in a way. And you've never been wetter in your life. Maybe you were just as fucked up as the rest of them.

“Alright, that’s enough, petal,” Jongho sighed, his cock too hard to be ignored at this point, needing direct stimulation. He tossed his gun to the side and unzipped his pants, pulling his throbbing length out, using his pre-cum to lube it up. “Show everyone why you’re my favorite hole to use.”

Eyeing the same man behind Jongho, you lifted your skirt up and sat down on his lap, reading the man’s lips. Almost, he says. Well, you guess you could hold out a little while longer. “I love being your favorite hole, sir,” you sighed, as you slowly sunk down onto your boss’s cock, setting your hands on his wide shoulders.

“There’s my filthy little whore. I was wondering where she went. I bet you’re soaked just from having my gun in your mouth,” he sighed, grabbing you by the hips and slamming himself into you, not even allowing you to get used to his large size.

“Yeah, I’m so wet for you, even when you treat me like this,” you cried out in a strained voice, tears stinging your eyes from the burning sensation in between your legs, wrapping your arms around Jongho’s neck, holding onto him for dear life. "Don't you fucking stop..."

“God, you filthy fucking bitch,” he grunted out, in between harsh breaths, slamming himself into you as quickly as possible, his cock rubbing rapidly against your plush inner walls, making you moan incessantly from the combination of pain and pleasure. “Look at you, already ready to cum for me and I’ve barely fucked this cunt for a few minutes. Brain dead whore. All you’re good for is taking my cock. Aren't you?"

You could barely speak from how hard you were being fucked. He was always like this with you, always using you like a cocksleeve and nothing more. “Y-esss, sir…!” you gasped, your throat starting to hurt from how hard you were breathing. Looking at Jongho's unnervingly evil facial expression reminded you of the deep hatred you felt for men like him. You were just a doll being used by your Master for his own personal satisfaction. All throughout your life, you’ve had different Masters that used you for the same selfish reasons, never giving you your own choice. Well, it was about time you cut the strings.

Jongho grabbed you by the throat, squeezing his fingers tightly around your delicate neck, his cold rings pushing into your skin. He drilled himself into you, able to feel your arousal leaking down to the base of his dick, your hole locking around it like a vice. “That’s a good toy. I can feel your cunt clenching around me. Are you going to cum while I choke you out like this?”

Though you were growing intensely dizzy, you reached one arm out past Jongho’s head, taking the knife that the man behind him handed to you. “Yeah, I am…” you whispered, barely able to get your words out from how hard he was clutching your neck. When you sent the knife across Jongho’s exposed neck, you finally felt relief, able to take in a deep breath, your cunt pulsing and throbbing intensely, knowing you were right on the edge of euphoria.

“Fuck…” Jongho mumbled, coughing up blood, the large droplets splattering on your sweaty face. He grasped at his neck, not understanding what happened in the span of mere seconds. How his entire empire was crumbling before his eyes. Everything he had worked for was disappearing, and it was all because of his favorite plaything. The very one that was gazing down at him with a bloodlust, your cunt so tight around his cock that he thought he might cum just before he took his final breath.

You were finally about to be free. Truly free. It felt so good, so good you couldn’t stop yourself from chasing your high, bouncing on Jongho’s stiff length with a fervor you didn’t know you had. The men around you, who had seen some fucked up shit during their lifetime, were shocked even by your actions, whispering amongst each other. Were they scared of you? That would be a turn of events. It pleased you.

“What’s wrong, sir?” you asked sweetly, panting heavily, your eyes barely open from how hard you were cumming in that moment, your arousal mixing with the blood that was spilling out of Jongho’s neck and dripping onto your inner thighs. “Why do you look like you’re about to cum too? Does it feel that good to die for me?”

“But...why?” was all Jongho could get out, looking for his men to help, though they simply stared back at him, not a single shred of sympathy in their soulless eyes. When you grabbed him by the jaw and forced him to look at you, he coughed harshly, grabbing at his throat, unable to keep the crimson from slipping past his ringed fingers. “I thought you were my lily…my pretty…little flower…”

You licked some of the crimson liquid that splattered onto your lips, letting out a series of giggles, completely overwhelmed with bliss and borderline insanity. You were finally your own Master. There were no strings left for someone to control you with. Bringing his face close to yours, you pressed a kiss onto his blood-stained mouth, whispering, “Like you said, I'm surrounded by thorns. I have to protect myself, right?”

✖��✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

FFF: @hwalysm @scuzmunkie @creativechaoticloner @dilucpegg3r @yeosxxx @gemjimin @wonwowzers @sanjoongie @manipulatedstars @k-drizzle

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#ateez #ateez smut #jongho #jongho smut #choi jongho #ateez jongho #ateez imagines #jongho x reader #ateez x you #ateez scenarios #ateez drabbles #kpop smut #jongho x you #ateez fanfiction #february filth fest

389 notes · View notes

jungkookstatts · 1 year

Text

Nepenthe - University Superstar Drabble 3

Nepenthe - [N]. Something that can make you forget grief or suffering

[Summary]: Jungkook’s life has always been a polarizing battle. It has been pushed and pulled from a constant fight about which should take control: his heart, or his brain? He could never balance it all, the overwhelming emotions too much to even out all by himself. But when he met you…all of that disappeared. When he met you, he felt both organs rest, allowing him to embrace all that is life, and all that is you.

[Theme]: Jock!Jk, LacrossePlayer!JK x TeacherIntern!Y/N, Friends(?)ToLovers!AU, EnimeisToLovers!AU, Inside the mind of Jeon Jungkook

[Rating]: 18+ for mentions of the deed, fluff (so many tingling feelings), a slight hint of cheating (if you'll call it that [I feel like everyone has a different boundary with what they associate as cheating, so I'll put this here and leave it for you to decide])

[Word Count]: 1,545

[A/n]: Not me setting my expectations for men to the highest standard with this drabble. Read with caution.

[Masterlist]

Jungkook was the quiet boy. He always kept to himself, just bunny smiles and wide eyes as he went about his younger years.

The boy was good. Never had to flip his green card to yellow or red in his life — minus the one time he accidentally hurt a girl's feelings in the second grade for calling her pigtails uneven.

He never missed a day of class, never once received a grade lower than a C+, and never got involved in drama or fights.

Every day was a blessing when he was growing up. His parents taught him well, giving their son their best heretic traits of pure goodness to Jungkook to go about his life with. He was giving and generous with his friends, even more so to strangers. Always giving up his favorite things to make someone feel better or sacrificing his time to spend a little extra with someone who needed him near. Beyond humble and caring he was, always the teacher’s favorite student.

But that was Jungkook. He was the good boy. Until he came face-to-face with puberty.

Junior High was dreadful. That goodness he went about life in started to not make sense. He was angry and breaking out in pimples and his voice started cracking with every breath he took. In what world would holding goodness be okay when the growing pains in his shin provoked him to quit the soccer team?

It was a mess. He was a mess.

And he was so unbelievably horny.

It was embarrassing how horny he was.

In the eighth grade, he was chosen to be the class speaker at his graduation ceremony. However, as he stood up there, all he could think about was whether or not the crowd could see the massive boner he waist-banding under his belt buckle. It was as if he was sporting a hard-on with every breath he took, and suddenly he realized that his right hand became much stronger than his left.

The next two years couldn’t have gone by any quicker, because soon Jungkook was the most popular kid in his high school. His sophomore year was by far the easiest with the way he was climbing up in popularity.

Jungkook was in every upper math class, honors, and AP course a person could possibly have the opportunity to fit into one semester. Despite being in classes with total nerds and questionable individuals, the minute he exited his upper-level courses, he was bombarded with the cheerleading team sticking their boobs in his face and his own friends fighting to ask him when he had the next day off practice to hang out together.

He would have guessed it was from his final stages of puberty. Finally, that crack in his voice was gone, and the pains in his bones were starting to fade. Besides, he was pulling so many women, he started getting tested every week just to make sure that he wasn’t overdoing it with how much sex he was having.

By his senior year of high school, he was one of the tallest, most athletic kids in the class. And, as if no one was expecting it at all, he was elected his high school's prom king.

Through it all, Jungkook still didn’t find much reason to apologize. It was a strange word coming from his lips. He had always respected others enough to the point where it was rare that he really did anything wrong. Not because he was a person who didn’t have any negative thoughts or who didn’t indulge in negative actions. But Jungkook was always good at blending. If he wanted to do something bad, he did it with others. If he had negative thoughts, he pretended he didn’t. Big walls and big problems formed from his very own defense mechanism to never have to run into upsetting someone else from his presence.

His “jockiness” formed with his first girlfriend, Park Haneul. She was quite the opposite of Jungkook. If she had a problem, she’d say it right then and there with no warning or build-up to coat any of her insults. She also constantly had a problem with Jungkook, which made it really hard for him to understand why. He felt like he was doing all the right things — he listened to her, let her cry on his shoulder, hugged her when she was feeling down, made her tea when she was angry, gave up almost all his time for her, took her out on the over-ly expensive dates she demanded as a “make-up” technique. He did it all, and yet there were still fights and a dissatisfied girlfriend by the end of the day.

When he finally got fed up after being yelled at and told that he wasn’t being a good boyfriend, he figured he needed to say that he was sorry to make it right. However, it was really hard for him to muster the words to apologize.

Instead? He coated himself with the biggest percentage of confidence within himself that he could bring out.

And, well.

It worked.

His relationship with Haneul began to feel like a ride in a Rolls-Royce. Not a singular bump in the road or crack in the windshield could be felt. His relationship with her was smooth sailing. However, just because he couldn’t feel the bumps in the road or the cracks in the windshield, doesn’t mean they weren’t there.

Three years rolled by, and he couldn’t do it anymore. There was no "pop", no drive that made him feel this overwhelming sense of love he knew he was supposed to feel when she told him she loved him. It wasn't fair to either of them, and he couldn't take it anymore. Not when he realized that he wasn’t feeling anything when he looked into her eyes. Not when he looked in yours and felt the life of passion you lived through them.

He wanted that. He wanted to hold your face and stare into your eyes until he could learn how it felt to feel like you did. He wanted to be near you; to watch that fire in your eyes teach him how to live as you warmed his soul while doing so.

And so, he left in search of your fire. He searched and searched and searched until he found it in a coffee shop, covered in his coffee. With just a bat of your eyes, you became a nepenthe to him. Years of pining and tensity he spent while trying to find you lifted, and that desire to join you in life came back.

It was a strong desire for Jungkook to be everything to you. To be the reason you light up in flames and laugh until your stomach hurts and to be the person you run to when you need to feel safe. He wanted to do everything to you that you did to him. And he soon found himself in a crossfire between who he was in elementary school and who he was in high school. A heart of humility and good, so full of passion and warmth, competing with his defensive brain who so brutally reminded him of all the walls he built in order to protect that special heart of his.

It took reality to break his wall. While your aura warmed him, it also warmed everyone else. And you were in high demand to light aflame to whoever captured it first.

But the fact angered Jungkook. You’re not to be captured. You’re to be spread, just like a fire naturally would. And if he had to spend the rest of his life protecting your flame from those who dared misunderstood it, then he was going to do it with everything he had.

The intimacy of being understood was what made him fall in love with you. Though you slowly began melting his candle into the pores of your heart, that look in your eyes sped up the process. It was as if you held him hostage as you nodded your head, telling him that you understood, telling him that you loved him. Euphoria ripped through his body, that feeling of falling in love for the first time was excessive, almost abnormal as it took over his soul.

You single-handedly made him forget all of his grief — years of suffering he spent trying to balance himself and figure out who he was and what he wanted to feel in life. You gave him joy on a silver platter, handing it to him as if you didn't just find his true self protected behind all those walls.

It was then that he realized that you’re gonna be where all his paths end. You've embraced his weakness and helped him strengthen into this foreign body he knows is himself but better. That weak, confused boy at the center of thick walls and defense mechanisms and hurtful words stands with you by his side. He’s made it a mission to go about his new life, walking with you with the intent be everything to you that you are to him. This is the start and end of all lines. He does not want more. He just wants you. Only you, and you alone.

----

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]

310 notes · View notes

riaarivic · 1 year

Text

HATE 1: Omen (M) I MYG x F!reader

🌙 Pairings YoongixReader

🌙 Genres Mafia!AU, Smut, Angst, Action, Thriller, Enemies to lovers

🌙 Rating 18+ minors DNI

🌙 Summary You were an INTERPOL Agent assigned to infiltrate the depths of the most powerful Gang in South Korea: The Seven Moons. Your objective: to impersonate the daughter of one of their leaders and destroy the operation from within. That is, if they don't discover you first.

And Traitors won’t have the mercy of a quick death

🌙 Warnings For this chapter: mentions of death and vioence, foul language

🌙 Chapter wordcount 831

🌙 Series Index

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

🌙 HATE 1: Omen 🌙

Heartbeat pulsing slow in my ears. Bump, bump, bump

You were running.

Running like a bat out of hell, darting across the rooftops of a hidden neighborhood within the heart of Seoul. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, propelling you forward as if the demos from your worst nightmares were snapping at your heels.

Don't look down, fuck.

You could hear your heartbeat in your ears and the footsteps of the men who were chasing yoy. They were getting closer to you at a speed greater than you could possibly run.

They were going to catch you.

Your heart pounded louder with each passing second, and the relentless footsteps of the men behind you grew ever closer. They were like shadows, ominously encroaching on your escape route. You couldn't help but think of how it all went down just a few minutes ago.

For a second you have to fight your brain’s urge to yell, "Parkour!" when you jump from the railings from a staircase to a rooftop – even though it would've been hilarious under different circumstances.

"Focus, Y/N," you muttered under your breath.

This was definitely not supposed to happen this way.

This wasn't how things were supposed to play out, and you knew it. Against your better judgment, your instincts, and the damn training you'd gone through, you'd made every wrong move that led you to this edge.

You knew your options were running out and you couldn't keep running forever.

Trying to escape with no avail. Jump, jump, jump.

The road was over.

The road ahead had run its course, leaving you with nothing but a drop of a hundred meters straight down to the Han River. Below it’s waters ran dark, icy and unforgiving.

If you fell, you would fall to a cold painful death.

And fuck, how you hated the cold.

You needed a plan, and you needed it fast, because right now your options were to end the day with a bullet to the head or be found gray and cold floating on the banks of the Han river by the police.

No, it wouldn't be a swift, merciful death.

"Traitors don't deserve the mercy of a quick death."

Those were the chilling words of the former leader of The Clan. Once they sounded like a cautionary tale, now they were a promise.

One last bad decision? Choose, you can't keep running.

You came to an abrupt halt and faced the men who had brought you to this.

The mission had failed. Your cover was blown.

"This is how you die, Y/N." you thought to yourself. You always knew you’d have a violent end. But never thought you would meet death by the hands of someone you loved.

That was the harsh truth. Everything that had the microscopic chance to not go as planned had gone up in flames, then gone wrong.

Like washing your hair the next day you bleached it - wrong.

Like stealing from your mom - wrong.

Like trying to put stilettos on a horse – wrong.

You get it, right?

Because now, you'd rather die to protect them.

The very people you were initially sent to destroy. The same people you were supposed to despise with every fiber of your being, all because you were an agent of the law, and they were criminals.

But that was then, and this is now.

Now, you were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to buy more time and help them.

Now, you'd choose death over something happening to him.

No song affects me anymore. Crying out a silent cry

“Choose, die in his hands or in yours” again the voice in your head reminded you that you had no real choice anymore.

You dropped your weapon and raised your hands. His eyes remained cold, anger and pain swirling like a tempest in dark his irises. But the rest of his face remained inscrutable.

And he kept pointing his gun at you.

He took a step closer without breaking eye contact, the cold steel of his gun pressing against your temple. He removed the safety and eased off the trigger, not enough to fire.

His hands trembled.

For an instant, you saw your own emotions mirrored in his eyes.

Pure hatred.

Hatred for himself, hatred for you – for making him love you, then betraying him.

And something else that was enough to break you.

Sadness.

You could handle the scorching heat of his hate. Forever if necessary.

But couldn’t stand another second watching how a single cold tear ran down his cheek.

You didn’t deserve to break his heart.

"Do it, you have to." You whispered so softly you weren’t sure he heard you.

The thing was, you knew he didn't want to kill you; he simply couldn't.

And neither could his brothers.

But you had it coming. You'd shattered their trust, broken every rule and code. Betrayed all the oaths you'd sworn.

You broke your oath as an Interpol agent when you started lying to your team to protect them.

And then you broke your oath to them when you exposed their clan to the police.

You'd pledged allegiance to them, wearing their mark on your forearm. And you knew you could’t lie to yourself and say it was because of the mission.

"You have to... If he can't, you have to. It's the only way to keep them all safe." you thougts were frantic. But you knew there was no other way.

You took a step back, still locked in that intense stare, and in that brief moment, he realized your intentions.

You offered him one last smile, then let yourself plummet into the void.

Ocean with all light silenced, shut, yeah, yeah, yeah. My wandering feet held in a rut, yeah, yeah, yeah.

"No!" The anguished screams of the seven men echoed in your ears as you fell.

Their terrified faces would haunt your dreams for eternity.

"I hope you can forgive me." That was your last thought before you faded into darkness.

At what point had everything gone to hell?

When had the deepest hatred transformed into love?

And what was worse, the kind of love worth dying for.

Every noise and sound's been cut yeah, yeah, yeah. Killin' me now, killin' me now. Do you hear me yeah.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙 So, Hi. Hello How are you?

I decided I will translate this fic from my original language (Spanish) and post it from wattpad. This is a whole series and I will be changing a few things from the original plot; you can feel free to read it if you want to

Here: Odio || BTS || SUGA x OC x RM || MAFIA AU

I am very proud of this chapter btw 😅 And it feels kind of weird, because most of the times when I reread something i wrote in the past I feel the sudden urge of washing my eyes with bleach and erase it from the face of Eath, forever.

I’m kind of new to posting on Tumblr (Yeah, in 2023) so I will be editing in a while to make reading easier!! If you want to like and reblog that would be highly appreciated and thank You so much for your feedback!!

#bts yoongi #bts smut #bts mafia au #bts mafia series #mafia au #yoongi #bts fanfic #bts #bts au #series #enemies to lovers

242 notes · View notes

haitanisbug · 2 years

Text

Chase the Shadows

Pairing: Gojo x Fem Reader

CW: light smut(-ish. Kind of..) Minors DNI, explicit and suggestive language

Note: Reader and Gojo are in an established relationship. This is part of my JJK Street Racer AU.

“You can’t compete with him, Gojo. Do you have any idea how much shit he has under that hood? Paid it all with daddy’s money and he’ll smoke you with it too.” It’s rare for Sukuna to sound this concerned about his friend. Usually apathetic to all of Gojo’s chaotic antics, but tonight is different. The two men are standing near Gojo’s car and waiting for the official call that the roads have been cleared to start the race. Gojo had pissed off Naoya earlier that week (some ill-timed insult about Naoya’s small dick or something like that) and instead of Naoya’s men shooting Gojo’s brains out, they decided to settle their squabble with a race.

Sukuna continues to chastise him “It also doesn’t help that you’ve only done cosmetic mods to this car.”

“Eh, it’s not about the engine. It’s about who’s driving the engine. And that happens to be Gojo Satoru. No need for performance updates. I’ll smoke his ass in a slow car, and I’ll look fucking cool doing it too.” arrogance is practically dripping from Gojo’s voice.

“This isn’t Fast and Furious, man. A slow car is still a slow car. Your driving skills aren’t suddenly going to make it go faster.”

Gojo lowers his blacked-out shades and peers at his friend through the tops of them, crystal eyes glinting with mirth. “You say that like I haven’t smoked you in a slow ass car before.” Sukuna scoffs at that, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You only won that race because my clutch slipped.”

“Excuses, excuses” Gojo teases, “Besides, who says cosmetic mods can’t make a car go faster? I swear Geto’s art gives me a speed boost.”

“You are so going to lose this race and I almost pity anybody stupid enough to bet on you tonight.” The streets around them are filled with people, more than the usual street race. It definitely can be attributed to the reputations of the two men racing. Gojo has been at the top of almost every race for the past year. His fame amongst the Tokyo street circuit spread quickly, and whenever he races, people always come to gawk. Naoya’s immoral rep, and the Zenin name itself attract a fair share of spectators too. Not to mention the streets tonight are crawling with his men. Scantily clad women crowd the streets and occasionally pass by Gojo and Sukuna; loud music and the revving of cars fill the gaps in their conversation.

“Speaking of betting, where the hell is Toji? I can’t believe he actually agreed to let you race Naoya.” Sukuna looks over his shoulder, eyes sweeping his surroundings to find the older man. When he can’t spot him, Sukuna lets out a few curses. “Don’t fuckin tell me… you didn’t tell Toji about this?!”

Gojo has the nerve to look slightly sheepish “...uhh well I didn’t thi-”

“Shut up, man. You’re racing the heir to one of the biggest Yakuza groups in the fuckin country and you didn’t tell your fucking manager?!” AND You’re driving it in a ride that’s basically a glorified Hot Wheel. How stupid are you?”

Gojo’s lack of response spurns Sukuna on, “Please tell me you didn’t bet any money, or at least any of Toji’s money.”

“No! I am offended you think that I’m that thoughtless. Of course I didn’t bet any of Toji’s money. That would have been asking for a death sentence... money-hungry old man” Gojo mutters the last bit under his breath.

“Fine. Whatever. Since you didn’t bet any of his money, and I know you're flat out of cash right now, what did you bet?”

If Gojo looked sheepish before, now he looks downright guilty. His eyes flicker over to where you’re standing talking to a group of girls and then they shoot away nervously.

Sukuna catches all of this, his gaze narrowing. “You bastard.” Sukuna almost whispers. “You’re betting your girl?”

“Well… she’s the only thing Naoya was interested in. He refused cash and my car so it was the only option.”

“Does she know about this?”

Gojo’s silence is deafening.

“You’re fucking slimy. Absolute bastard, asshole, and a dickhead. Can't believe I’m friends with you.”

“Oh please don’t act like you’re any better, Sukuna.” Gojo lets out a mocking laugh. “You’d do the same thing if you were in my place and we both know it. You’re a glutton for adrenaline too.”

“No, I wouldn’t. If Naoya ever laid eyes on my girl, there wouldn’t even need to be a race. I’d send him driving back in a fucking ambulance.”

“Well, none of this even matters! Because I told you, I’m going to win.” There’s shouting from the race moderators, letting the crowd and drivers know that the race will begin in five minutes.

“I’ll see you on the other side” Gojo winks at Sukuna. “With my girl and Naoya’s McLaren.”

You suddenly run up to Gojo, oblivious to the tension between the two men. “Good luck Satoru!” You sling your arms around his neck.

“No need for it, princess! But I’ll take your kisses anyway” Gojo greedily slots his lips over yours, hand running down your back to the base of your ass. You giggle as Gojo gives it a slight squeeze, and he smiles against your lips. He gives you one last peck and straightens up.

“Please be a little bit careful, Satoru. I know Naoya races dirty.” You warn, hands coming to rest on his forearms.

As Gojo starts to respond, the revving of a car interrupts him and loud cheers fill the air. Naoya parks his car at the starting line and gets out. The street lights illuminate his bare back and the unnerving tattoo that snakes around his torso. He lifts up his arms, stirring up shouts from the crowd again. You shiver at the sight of him. “Satoru, I’m not joking. He’s dangerous.”

“I know that better than anyone.” Gojo‘s look seems serious, but there’s a hint of pride laying underneath. “He likes to think he’s good. Unfortunately, no amount of daddy’s money can substitute for pure talent.” He swings his car door open and plops into the driver’s seat. He rolls down both windows and levels you with a sultry gaze. “I’m expecting a congratulatory prize after this.” he winks at you and you roll your eyes knowing exactly what he's insinuating.

“Ok hotshot, win the damn race first and then we’ll talk.” With that, Gojo whips his car around to the starting line and pulls up next to Naoya’s McLaren F1. Naoya is back in his car and sneers at Gojo through his open window.

“I hope y/n is prepared to be warming my bed tonight. Or maybe I should say my hood. She’s so irresistible, I’ll fuck her over my car as soon as I win the race. I’ll make you watch, and give you a few pointers on how to please your next woman.” Naoya takes glee in the way Gojo’s hands tighten around his wheel.

Gojo’s shades are perched low on his nose, and he glances at Naoya across his car. “All I’m thinking about is how nice she’ll look when I’m fucking her in the McLaren I’m about to win.” With that, Gojo rolls up his windows effectively shutting out any reply from Naoya. He revs his car, heating the engine and provoking Naoya at the same time.

After parting with Gojo, you had joined Sukuna and Geto where the other spectators stood on the side of the road. The roar of both engines filled your ears and your eyebrows scrunched in worry. It wasn’t that you doubted Gojo- you’d never seen him lose a race to anyone other than Sukuna- but something felt different this time. The drop in your heart must have been evident in your expression because Geto reached over and squeezed your hand. It was impossible to say anything with the combined noise of the crowd and the engines. You looked up and gave him a strained smile and then locked eyes onto Gojo’s car.

‘Please let Satoru be okay’ you think. You have no idea what was on the line, but knowing Naoya’s involvement in the yakuza you knew it had to be something valuable.

A flag girl walks between the two cars for the countdown of the race. As she waves the flag to indicate the start, the drivers accelerate causing the tires to screech against the asphalt. They both have a smooth start and tear across the road to begin the 16-kilometer circuit that’ll wind throughout Tokyo and loop back to where they started.

The dust settles and the ringing in your ears fade. “Well”, Sukuna mumbles with a cigarette stuck in between his lips “that’s as strong of a start as any. Too bad you didn’t slice one of Naoya’s tires earlier, Geto.” He pulls the cigarette away from his lips and lets out a cloud of smoke.

“Oh yeah, like that would have helped Gojo’s situation out. Pulling something like that before a race like this is asking for a bullet in the head. He’ll be fine. He always is.” Geto gives your hand another squeeze and this time you return it.

“I wish they had markers set up throughout the circuit. I don’t wanna wait till the last kilometer to see their positions.” You’re squinting, attempting to see the two cars in the distance although their silhouettes have already been swallowed by the Tokyo skyline.

“Here, I’ll narrate for you princess.” Sukuna’s gruff voice is directly in your ear as he bends down a little. “The shitty daddy’s boy is going to pull some illegal move….. hmmm probably try to crash Satoru a few times.” Your eyes widen as Sukuna continues talking, the smell of nicotine invading your nose, “Gojo’ll probably bang-up his own car in the process trying to dish it back to Naoya...maybe get himself killed and then-”

You cut Sukuna off, pushing his chest away from your body. You scowl at him. “You’re an asshole, Sukuna.”

He throws back his head and laughs with his whole body “I get that from your boyfriend y’know.”

After a while, the familiar roar of engines sounds in the distance and you feel your stomach drop as the two cars drift through the last turn. They’re pushing through the last kilometer when the crowd of people start yelling.

“He’s ahead!” You’re shouting and leaning as far into the road as you dare. Geto’s got a firm grip on your shoulder preventing you from falling into the street. You take a quick look at Geto, and his dark eyes are filled with delight.

“Not by much, but looks like he’s still gaining speed.”

“Slick bastard.” Sukuna flings his cigarette onto the street, a smirk is stretching the corner of his lips. They speed through the finish line, Gojo one car length ahead of Naoya. The crowd is going absolutely wild and rushing onto the road, hoping to get a glimpse of the action that’ll inevitably occur between the two men. You make to run to Gojo’s car when Geto’s hand suddenly pulls you back.

“Wait a bit, angel.” His tone is protective, and his grip tightens on you. “You don’t want to get into the middle of that fight. And you don’t want to be around Naoya. Ever.” He’s looking at you, deathly serious now. And as you’re scanning his features, there seems to be an ounce of fear buried underneath.

Gojo drifts his car in a half-circle and drives back near the finish line. His door flies open and he emerges from the car, one long leg stretched out after the other. His hair is running wild, and he’s got a maniacal grin set on his face. He looks back at Naoya who’s stumbling out of his car and stalking towards Gojo.

“You piece of shit, Satoru.” The words tear through Naoya’s throat, eyes set in ablaze. “What the hell did you put under that hood. There’s no way you gained that much on me in the last kilometer.”

Gojo laughs in his face, looking down at Naoya. “Like I’d ever tell you my secrets, Zenin. Now hand over my keys.” Naoya tosses them straight at Gojo’s face, but he snatches them with quick reflexes. Gojo lets out a whistle, body turned towards his new car “Mannn I’m going to enjoy the sex in this one.”

There’s pure, unadulterated malice in the look Naoya gives him. “Watch your back Satoru. Your luck will run out one of these days, and when it does I’ll personally send you to hell.”

Gojo places the new keys in the pocket of his jacket. “I’m sure you will, and if that happens I’ll drag you down with me.” Naoya sends him one last dirty look before joining his men and disappearing from the track.

“Toru!!” You’re running full speed at your boyfriend and he just manages to turn in time, before you fling yourself into his chest. “Oh my god” you’re laughing and when you look up into Gojo’s face, the lights from the street frame your features. “You totally smoked his ass. And by a whole car length too!”

Gojo chuckles alongside you “Did you forget who you’re dating? The king of fucking street racing, princess.” And with that, he grabs your wrist and tugs you to the McLaren he just won with a slight skip in his step. His boyish enthusiasm excites a round of giggles from you as you trail behind him.

You vaguely catch Geto utter “here they go again.'' Before Gojo swings you around and pushes his hips against yours. “Time to commemorate my... no our new baby” and you laugh against Satoru’s lips as he backs you up onto the hood. He slides your butt up with one firm hand on your hips and braces his other next to your face. You’re laying back fully now, Gojo’s stature is blocking out the moon and your attention is on the restless energy emanating from his body.

Gojo leans his face in closer and steals a kiss from you. It's sloppy; all the adrenaline from the race coursing through his lips. You immediately allow him access, and he greedily accepts. There’s an urgency in the way he sucks and nips at your tongue.

“Toruuu” you pull back with a whine.

“Fuck it.” He murmurs. There is a fire ablaze in his face and he roughly pulls you off the hood. “Get in the car. Time to get outta here.”

He tosses the keys of his old car to Geto. “Take it back to the shop for me, Suguru. I might’ve scraped up the paint a bit too.”

“Of course you did.” Geto gives his friend an annoyed look, but there’s no real anger in his voice.

Gojo puts the keys into the ignition, and the engine turns on with a purr. “Fuuuck, it sounds almost as sexy as you babe.”

“Gojo if you compare me to a car ever again, I’m dumping your ass and you can get yourself off with a steering wheel.” Your side-eye is sharp enough to cut, but Gojo just cackles.

“Hmmm, I’ve never tried that before. Think ya could give me a lesson before you leave though?”

“Can't believe I ever agreed to date you.” You murmur under your breath looking out the window in irritation. Despite his joking words, Gojo links your fingers and rubs soft circles against the top of your hand. He’s speeding through Tokyo now, one hand on the wheel. He seems at ease but you can tell he’s on edge still- probably antsy to get back to his apartment and fuck you into tomorrow.

He’s weaving in and out of traffic, downtown Tokyo getting closer and closer. It’s a familiar setting, Gojo in the driver’s seat, the city lights casting blues and reds across the dashboard. It’s almost enough to put you at ease, but this time the air is filled with something else. A tension that clings to Gojo’s shoulders and lays plainly across his face. It’s unlike him but you don’t comment on it, opting for caressing his hand instead.

You quickly make it to his apartment building, and Gojo swerves the car into the closest parking spot. He runs over to your side, rips open the door, and pulls you out with both hands. He’s almost pushing you to the doors of the elevator at this point.

“Slow down Satoru, we have all night.”

“That’s not enough time, it’ll never be enough.” You would’ve laughed at his childish statement if it weren’t for the last bit he mutters and your ears barely catch it. You ride up the elevator and stumble into his apartment, Gojo’s hands running all over your body. “Bedroom.” He mumbles against your neck, trailing sloppy kisses all up your jaw. “Wanna fuck you right.”

He leads you into his bedroom and tears at your shirt, ripping it over your head. He reattatches his lips to your neck and begins to suck. You’re pushing at Gojo’s shoulders trying desperately to rid him of his jacket, but the taller man is leaning his weight on you, and it’s impossible to even move. Gojo’s lips move over yours as he pushes you onto the bed. He’s hovering over you and you take the opportunity to grab at his crotch, giving it a slight squeeze. Gojo growls into your mouth, his hands tightening on the bed sheets above your head. You use the distraction to stick your tongue in his mouth, trying desperately to gain some sort of dominance. He tastes lightly of cotton candy, probably from the lollipop he was sucking on earlier.

Gojo’s breaks away, hands trail down your body. Once they reach the top of your skirt, he rids you of them and your underwear in one go. “Fucking beautiful” he whispers against the skin of your thigh. You buck your hips slightly trying to encourage him to speed up his pace.

“Please, Satoru- need you.” Your eyes slide shut as he trails his lips back up your thigh and to your stomach.

“Patience, princess.” his warm breath, makes you shiver and your hands come up to tug at his hair. Gojo obliges and brings his head back up to yours, hovering for just a second. All of a sudden he lowers his hips and simultaneously grinds once into your cunt as he kisses you.

You pull at his pants. “Satoru, I need to feel you, please.'' He leans back from your body and strips off his shirt and jeans. Your eyes are racking up the plains of his pale skin, and you reach out to his shoulders to bring him down closer. His kisses are getting sloppier and sloppier and his grinding is getting more intense. Gojo starts mumbling and lost in your pleasure you can’t make out what he’s saying. Until he lets out a particularly loud curse, and in your haze you catch one sentence.

“Fucking Naoya, I’d never let him have you.” Your entire body shivers and it’s not because of Gojo’s increased pace. You look up at him and his eyes are unfocused.

“Satoru..what.” You can barely speak, body stiffening. “What’d you mean ‘let him have me’?” Gojo stills and his eyes focus on an area above your head, a guilty expression present on his face.

At his remorseful look, it suddenly all clicks in your brain. Gojo’s antsy attitude this morning- How he never gets like that before a race. You just brushed it off as nerves from never racing Naoya before. The way he was still nervous even after the race was over, as if he was relieved. All of the tell-tale signs begin to make more sense.

“You bet me.” Your whisper grazes across Gojo’s lips and his eyes slide shut, his head hanging a little. “You told Naoya he could have me if you lost? Gojo are you kidd-“ tears start to prick at your eyes and Gojo suddenly opens his eyes as he interrupts you.

“Never.” He staring at you with a sincerity you’ve never seen him display before. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb catching a stray tear. “I’d never let him touch you. And if I had lost, I would’ve shot everyone in the Zenin yakuza starting with Naoya and his cheap dye-job.”

Something about Satoru threatening to kill one of the most powerful men in Tokyo turns you on even more. You wrap an arm around his neck and buck your hips, encouraging him to start moving again. “He’d have to chase us into the shadows before I’d ever let him lay a hand on you.” Gojo’s head is right up against your ear.

Despite his rash decision and asshole attitude that got him in the situation in the first place, you know in your heart that Satoru would never bargain you off like a piece of property. Your boyfriend is more distraught than you’ve ever seen him. Probably thinking that you’ll dump him for not telling you about the bet. You’ve been through too much together to do that though. Your heart beats wildly as you think might even love him too much. A sigh escapes your lips, forgiving him instantly and carding your fingers through his hair for reassurance “Im here Toru. You won. I’m not going anywhere.” You pull at his white locks, dragging his head to your lips. He captures them in a seething kiss.

“I’m sorry” he whispers, pulling back. “I should have told you.”

“Yea... But it doesn’t matter anymore Toru. You kicked his ass. And you looked fucking hot doing it too. ” The tension suddenly dissipates and Gojo lets out a sincere laugh.

“God, I fucking love you.” You’re shocked for a second before you push at his shoulders to switch your positions.

“What’re you doing, princess?” Gojo is admiring this new view of you above him, straddling his hips.

You lean down and with a nip at his ear lobe you whisper, “Giving you your congratulatory prize, hotshot.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou x reader #gojo fic #gojo x you #tj.fics #woo

448 notes · View notes