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yuwuta · 2 months

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JUST KEEP LOVING ME THE WAY I LOVE YOU LOVING ME — SATORU GOJO

pairings. satoru gojo/reader

content, warnings. non-curse au, doctor au (reader), ceo au (satoru), no real content warnings, fluff, satoru is nothing but a romantic at heart

word count. 3k

notes. this exists in the post-completion au of a larger universe/incomplete fic of mine, that i will hopefully finish someday lololol but this is way easier to write than that so here you go 🥳

“There are four chairs worth a collective seventy-five hundred dollars in this office, so, pray, tell, why is your ass on my desk?”

Satoru grins at your words, too distracted by taking in the sight of you to take into consideration the underlying threat. It’s been far too long, almost three whole days since he’s last seen you and, god, you look good. He knows if he said that you’d roll your eyes and insist that there’s nothing good-looking about your worn-in business attire and lab coat that was in desperate need of laundering, but it wouldn’t change his opinion: you always look good, and Satoru really fucking missed you.

Which is why he doesn’t say the words, but makes sure to throw a deceivingly charming wink your way so that you get the message anyway. As expected, you still roll your eyes, but he doesn’t mind; you look good doing that, too.

“Seriously, Satoru, what are you doing here?” you question, closing the door behind you when you fully step into the room. You make pace towards your desk, attempting to get to the other side, but this is exactly why Satoru chose to lean against it instead of sitting on any one of your very expensive and comfortable chairs—because this way, he’s in the perfect position to intercept your path and pull you to fit neatly between his legs before you can even think about reaching your office chair and ignoring him.

He pulls you by the loop of your lab coat, but his hands quickly find their way to your shoulders, unpeeling the white layer just enough so that your blouse is exposed to him, and he can slowly rub his palms against your arms and shoulders with just enough pressure to hopefully release some tension. You won’t let go of all of it, but that’s alright, because Satoru’s got other methods for taking care of you.

“Hi,” he calls, smiling gently down at you, “I missed you.”

This close, Satoru can see the exhaustion clearly in your eyes. There’s more, too: frustration, guilt, worry—and it takes everything in him not to coo and pull you into his chest and do his best to shield you from the world forever.

There’s a beat before you speak, a small sigh, that’s quickly painted over with a tired smile and a remorseful, “I missed you, too. I’m sorry for being so short, the interim chief has been getting on my last nerves, and—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Satoru cuts in, leaning forward to press a reassuring kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax under his touch. “I know you’re busy. I just missed you.”

It’s not easy to share you with anything or anyone, but Satoru knows that even on the hardest days, you love your job, and that so many people need your brilliant mind. What he does mind is when people make your job harder than it needs to be, and he’s been getting an earful about this new interim chief from just about everybody—you, Kento, Yuuji, Ieiri, even some of your favorite scrub nurses have indulged him in the gossip about the newest common enemy—and he doesn’t appreciate that someone is putting extra stress on his baby. So, even if it is a makeshift massage in your office and distracting you from your paperwork, Satoru will do what he can to help you relieve tension.

You reach your arms to wrap them around his shoulders, taking a half step closer to him, peering up at him. Satoru loves when your arms are around his neck like this; he can’t quite pinpoint why—maybe it’s the way you have to crane your neck to look up at him, the way you’re perfectly nestled under his view, the feeling of being wrapped in you. He does his best to close the loop of your intimacy, resting his hands on the small of your back and pulling you impossibly closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax into his touch.

“You’re sweet,” you smile, rubbing your thumb against the shorter hairs at the back of his head. Satoru feels himself melt into you, too. It’s been too long since you’ve been this close, three whole days too long. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for, baby,” he smiles, stealing a gentle kiss. Satoru loves this the most, loves the feeling of your lips on his—and it’s definitely been too long since he’s kissed you, so he makes sure to do it again, and once more after that for good measure.

But it’s not enough. He’ll have to take you home, sit you on the couch so he can kiss you all night and make up for the lack of kisses and touches and youness he’s been deprived of these past few days. But first, he’ll have to pull you away from your work, and that’s not easy work.

“Come home,” he muses, leaning his forehead against yours, “We can order in, and share your favorite bottle of wine, and watch a movie.”

You lean up to kiss him briefly. “Every time we share a bottle of wine, we end up making out and not watching anything.”

“Do we?” Satoru feigns innocence, “I never noticed. Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, though.”

“Satoru,” you whisper, quiet but firm, with a smile that lets him know you want to, but you can’t. It’s a tone that Satoru knows all too well, and isn’t particularly fond of. “I have charts to finish.”

“Finish them tomorrow,” he steals another kiss, “Or pawn them off on Kento,” another kiss, “Or Yuuji. Residents always need more experience—isn’t that what you and Ieiri always say?”

You let him kiss you again, and again, and again. Each time a little longer, a little warmer, a little less innocent than the last, growing from a little, to a lot, to all-consuming. Satoru hums when he feels your nails raking through his hair; an unfortunate move, as the sound pulls you back to reality and away from him in a decrescendo of kisses.

“You’re really good at that,” you laugh, voice soft.

“At kissing?” Satoru dips his head down to taste your laughter against his lips, “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice with a very pretty girl.”

“No,” and you’re laughing again, louder this time, and Satoru counts every little giggle as a victory, “You’re good at... seducing me without saying you’re seducing me.”

“Oh, that?” he grins, tucking his pointer and index finger under your chin to meet you in a knowing kiss, “Yeah, that’s a talent of mine, too.”

You let him steal one more, and Satoru doesn’t take it for granted. “Come home,” he whispers against your lips before slotting them in yet another kiss, “I miss you.”

And he can feel it when you finally break, sighing into the kiss, and melting into his touch completely. One more, he just needs one more kiss to seal the deal, and then—“Fine,” you concede, “But I get to choose where to get dinner from.”

“Of course, sweets, whatever you want,” Satoru grins, pulling back to kiss your forehead again, “Now—shall we? If we order in the car, we can probably pick it up on our way home.”

He’s in the home stretch now, but he’s not completely free: if you catch a glimpse of your work, or someone comes in to find you, or your godforsaken pager beeps then all of his plans could come crumbling down before him. The key to transitioning from the “you’ve agreed to come home with him early stage”—if you can count 9:45pm, coming off of a 17-hour work day as early—to the “we are actually leaving this hospital and nobody can stop us phase” is swiftness. This time period is critical, and Satoru is ready for the sprint.

He shimmies your lab coat all the way off of your body for you, checking for the weight of your pager in your right pocket, before hanging it on the back of your chair. He shoos you to grab your coat, and makes sure you don’t get within three feet of this side of your desk—taking your purse out of your locked drawer and closing an open file folder in the time it takes you to slip out of your heels and into your sneakers, and by the time you’re turning back around, Satoru is already there next to you, with your purse in one hand, and his other hovering on the light switch.

He makes sure you’re out the door first, and flickers off the light with a satisfied grin. His baby was coming home early with him, and there is nothing else he’d rather do than spend time pampering you.

You must truly be more tired than you know, because you make no protest when he slings an arm over your shoulder on your way out of the elevator. Usually, you chastise him for any PDA within hospital walls, but tonight you let it be, even leaning some of your body weight against his as you walk. Satoru’s not complaining at all, maybe he’ll try his luck and sneak a kiss on your cheek.

He decides to go for it, leaning over for a kiss, when you suddenly pull away, turning and patting against your side. Confused, and disappointed, Satoru pouts, “We’ve really got to work on this fear of affection you’ve got going on, sweets. It’s the leading cause of makesatorupout-itis.”

“We’ve been over this—you can’t just add “itis” to the end of your words to make them diagnostic,” you giggle, “I was looking for my keys.”

Satoru’s frown deepens. “You have the fancy reserved doctor parking space, they can’t tow you. So, we can take my car home.”

“No, we cannot, because I do not trust you to wake up and drive me back tomorrow morning.”

“Then I’ll get you a cab in the morning, or—even better, I’ll call Ichiji to pick you up.”

“Ichiji is still in Paris,” you remind him. Satoru purses his lips. He did ask Ichiji to stay with Megumi. Damn it.

“I have other cars, you can drive one of them in the morning.”

“And park it where?”

“In your fancy reserved doctor parking—oh, okay I see the flaw there,” Satoru pulls back. You find amusement in his disappointment, but he doesn’t think there’s anything funny here.

He shakes his head. He should have taken a cab from his office, but this is okay, a minor setback, nothing he can’t think around. “New plan: we take your car, and I’ll come by to get mine tomorrow. Easy peasy.”

“Yours will be towed by then.”

“That’s fine,” Satoru shrugs, “I can afford a tow fee.”

“Satoru,” you call, reaching your free hand up to place your palm against his cheek, “We both drive home. It’ll be thirty minutes, tops. Forty if there’s traffic, but if you stop pouting and we leave now, we should be fine.”

Satoru sighs. He knows that’s the most reasonable plan of action, but the simple truth is that he doesn’t want to be away from you right now, even to go the short distance home. He’s already spent the last few days without you, and even though this is calling it in early for you, he only gets maybe four hours awake with you before you’re off again. Thinking about that makes him miss you again already. Pathetic, maybe, but he doesn’t care.

“Oh, Dr. (_____), hey!” Yuuji’s voice is an easily distinguishable interruption to your petty argument, and Satoru’s sulking, “Perfect timing—I’m glad I caught you before you left. Is it okay if I ask you to sign something before you go?”

You easily warm up to the younger boy and agree, fondly making conversation with Yuuji as he scrolls through some documents on his tablet. And just as you’ve finished scribbling your signature along the screen, Satoru has a bright idea.

“Hey, Yuuji, you can drive right?” Satoru questions rhetorically, already reaching for his wallet and car keys, “Great! Here’s two grand, it’s all yours if you drive this car home tonight.” Satoru smiles widely, shoving his keys and some cash into the pocket of Yuuji’s white coat.

“What—really? Awesome! But, why—”

Satoru dismisses his disbelief with a wave of his hand. He steps a bit closer to Yuuji, just enough to lean into his ear and tuck a couple more bills into his pocket, “And between you and me, that’s an extra three grand if you finish up a couple of charts for my lady so she can sleep in tomorrow. Not a bad deal, right?”

“Sure, no problem!” Yuuji salutes, “I’d do anything for Dr. Almost-Gojo. Plus, if I’m busy working for her, then I don’t have to babysit cells in a dish for Dr. Gakuganji.”

“Atta boy,” Satoru ruffles his hair, “Catch you later, Yuuji, I’ve got a hot date to get to. And tell Nanamin I say hello!”

You elbow Satoru shallowly, a silent warning to keep his voice down, and a verbal chastising of, “It’s Dr. Itadori and Dr. Nanamin to you.”

“More like Dr. Nanameanie,” Satoru laments, resuming the position of his arm around your shoulder, “I’ve left him six calls this week! He’s so cruel—he knows I have to leave next week and he’s depriving me of one on one time. I think I’m gonna have to sneak into his office at lunch tomorrow and confront him.”

Despite his crass words and dramatics, you laugh, and so, Satoru smiles. He finally gets that cheek kiss right as you two reach your car, bending down to plant one for you at the same time he steals your keys from your hand and banishes you to the passenger seat. He’s not much of a driver himself, despite his excess amount of cars, but you’re his baby and you deserve to be driven around no matter the case, but especially when you’ve spent all day taking care of other people.

Plus, on days like this, if he’s real careful and smooth, you fall asleep in the car and he gets to carry you inside. He makes that his goal for the next thirty minutes, and he succeeds in twenty, confirmed by your soft snores just as he pulls into the curbside pick-up spot of your favorite restaurant. He retrieves the take-out as quietly as possible, before making the rest of the journey home, taking the time to glance over at you during red lights.

Satoru loves the way you look when you’re asleep, loves to see you well-rested, but something even more dear to him than that is a fact that Nanami let slip in the aftermath of a dinner party he’d hosted about a year after you two had started dating: “She never sleeps outside of her bed, for as long as I’ve known her,” he muses, nodding to your sleeping figure on Satoru’s couch, “Not even in the on-call rooms during our 72 hour shifts. She must... she must really trust you, Satoru.”

(He also recalls the awfully strong grip on his shoulder and subsequent shovel talk Kento gave him a moment later. Not that Satoru ever had anything but pure intentions with you, but the threat of breaking Kento’s best friend’s heart was more than enough to keep his commitments in check).

Satoru peers at you fondly in his arms, held bridal style with the takeout in the grip of a pinky finger, glancing up only to nod and thank his doorman for pushing the penthouse button for him. Satoru prides himself on many things, but the one thing he always holds in his highest regards is you: call him cocky, but he thinks he’s quite good at caring for you, that there’s nobody else fit to look after you the way that he can; and knowing that you feel safe in his arms is the highest honor he could achieve in this life.

He sets you carefully on the couch once he steps inside the apartment, and places the food on the coffee table. He debates whether or not he should wake you up now; he hates to, but he knows you need to eat, and, selfishly, he wants to cash in on those few hours he has with you to hear your voice.

He’ll dish out the food first, and then wake you up to eat, he decides. He leans down to kiss the crown of your head, eyes flicking to your face, and pausing at your neck, where your engagement ring rests crookedly against your skin. You must have had an emergency surgery today, he thinks; your schedule for today was originally just to round on post-op patients and attend some meetings, but you knot the ring into your chain when you have to scrub into the operating room.

Carefully, Satoru reaches to undo it from the chain, and slips it back onto your ring finger. It looks pretty against your skin when it’s around your neck, but personally, he thinks it looks best this way, the sparkle of the aquamarine against the halo of diamonds fits perfectly across the width of your finger, just the way he had it made to be.

Satoru bends down even further to kiss the back of your hand, before laying it to rest on your stomach. He might need to bribe Yuuji to take care of some more work for you, you two really should get a move on that wedding planning, and you’re going to need at least a week off to fly and visit his grandma’s pastry shop in Osaka for cake tasting.

He smiles at the thought. He doesn’t feel so bad about waking you up now—wedding talk seems like the perfect way to end the evening if you ask him; there would be no sweeter sound than hearing how you imagine the start of the rest of your lives to be.

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sixosix · 9 months

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summary you take it upon yourself to make it up to lyney when he couldn’t perform on the night he looked forward to the most—and lyney falls a little harder.

or, sickfic, basically, but it’s more than that

warnings wc 3k, mentions of injuries and blood, fluff!!! and a bit of angst oops

A/N @hiraethsdesires wanted to get tagged so here u goo!!! hope u like reading it <3

“For the last time, Lyney,” you sigh, shoving one more macaron in the small, red box with the same shade as the accents of his hat, “I can’t attend your show.”

It’s a stroke of luck for him that you don’t have a line right now, or else you would’ve kicked him out the moment you saw him enter, fully expecting he doesn’t intend on leaving right away.

Lyney droops dramatically, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Seriously? Not this week either?”

“Not this week either. Not ever, I’m pretty sure I told you.” You push the box against his chest, to which he responds eagerly by situating his free hand firmly over yours.

He keeps his grip firm when you try tugging your hands away. He bores his eyes into yours, too sincere and open for a performer such as himself—you feel a bit of your will chip away. “That night is special to me. Won’t you consider again?”

“Why is it special?”

Lyney’s lips curl into a smirk, striking right when you’ve faltered. “Because you will be coming to watch, of course.”

You jerk your hands out of his grip as he laughs. “Bold assumption,” you say, smiling a little when Lyney cries a ‘come onnnn’. “Lyney, I already said—”

“—That you have no one else to take care of the shop if you leave, I know, I know,” Lyney interrupts with clear disdain. “But don’t you think I deserve a bit of compensation? Surely you recognize my efforts in being this bakery’s most loyal customer. Most purchases and most compliments to the prettiest owner.”

You roll your eyes, but you do give it a bit of thought. Lyney has been the reason why your humble little shop tucked in some hidden corner of Fontaine’s city has been gaining attention. You’ve definitely increased in customers ever since Lyney took it upon himself to come over every day with a Rainbow Rose and a dream (and Mora).

“If I attend to one, will you promise it’ll be the last?”

Lyney’s expression shifts instantly. He beams, leaning close enough until your noses are touching. You swear you can see the sparkles in his eyes. “I can’t promise anything if you enjoy it so much you keep coming back for more.”

“Don’t push it,” you say.

“I won’t, I won’t,” Lyney murmurs, his smile turning softer. “You’re not joking around, right? That’s a yes?”

“It’s a yes, I guess.”

He kisses your hand three times, saying, “I’ll make it the best night of your life, I promise,” between them.

You look forward to it. You wouldn’t tell it to his face, but if he were to look closer and see the tremble of your hands to the smile on your face, he’d know anyway.

Lyney doesn’t come over the next day.

You will yourself not to feel too disappointed. You have no right to be. Every time he does visit, he’d just invite you to one of his shows under the guise of ordering whatever you tell him is the best seller of the day, and every time, you’d reject his offer. Yesterday was an exception—on a whim.

Maybe he got a revelation, thinking that he'll find it boring when he finally got you in his grasp.

It certainly doesn’t help that Lyney still hasn't come to visit the day after that, which happened to be the same day of the performance.

They canceled the show, you hear them say, from outside on the streets and even in the walls of your bakery. What a shame; I was looking forward to it.

So was I, you want to say through gritted teeth.

You knew their fame knew no bounds, but it was only then that embarrassment crept in when you realized that the show star, Lyney himself, frequented your small shop with a bouquet in hand to invite you personally. And you had the gall to reject him.

You also learn that the bakery feels much more empty without his blazing presence.

The moment you finish watching the customer exit the shop with two paper bags in their arms, you rush to fling your apron off and flip the sign to ‘CLOSED’.

You don’t often leave the bakery in fear of missing out on what could be busy days, but this is more important than that. You can’t handle working idly for another hour with guilt in your stomach urging you to do something.

You must look like a sight: speeding through the pathway with a bit of flour on your clothes and a determined glint in your eyes. Only when you spot a familiar house overhead do you pause to take a deep breath.

You can do this. You need to find out what happened.

“He got sick?”

Lynette nods, sighing in defeat. “Would you like to come in? I’ll explain as I make tea.”

You glance around unsurely, feeling a little out of place. You occasionally break the heart of the brother of this woman currently inviting you inside their home. You can only hope that Lyney hasn’t been lamenting his bakery troubles to his sister.

Lynette directs you to the loveseat of their small living room before padding over to the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable,” she says in her endearing ever-monotone voice.

“I’m okay, thank… you…” Your gaze catches on a picture frame on the desk beside the seat of Lyney, Lynette, and what you can only assume from stories he’s shared is Freminet. Lynette is far from the camera, staring into the distance and sipping tea. Freminet is smiling awkwardly with no teeth, and the one eye he has visible isn’t even staring at the camera. Then Lyney sits in the middle, holding the camera with two arms and a wide grin, eyes screwed shut and his face so open.

You feel as if you’ve just caught a glimpse of something so personal, and the thought of that twists your heart and pushes it to beat twice as fast as normal. You’ve never seen him smile like that before. (You briefly wonder what it would be like to see it happen personally.)

“I’ve never seen him get this high of a fever before,” Lynette says, rousing you from your trance. She hands you a cup of tea, steam emanating from the cup.

“How did he even get sick?”

“I’m not sure… It could be because of the thunderstorm yesterday—he was out at that time and came home like that. He seemed really excited for tonight, too. Lyney kept telling me that this one would be special.”

“Because you will be coming to watch, of course.”

You nearly choke in your first sip because of your own thoughts.

Lynette looks back up at you over the rim of her cup. “With the stress of not being able to perform tormenting him, I assume he wouldn’t be getting better in time for the show. Or at least, not tonight at all.”

“Ah,” you voice lamely. You can’t even imagine the look of pure distress on Lyney’s sweet face—it hurts to even think about it. He’s done so much for you and even promised a whole show, only to fall sick before he could make it come true.

Will he think he’s at fault for this?

With your fingernails digging crescents on your palms, you quietly ask, “…Can I come visit him? Or would that be too much?”

Lynette’s gaze sharpens a little. “Has my brother told you the truth of our identities?”

“Most of everyone found out after the trial,” you answer without missing a beat.

“And still, you choose to care for Lyney?”

Is this a shovel talk? Are you experiencing a shovel talk right now?

“He makes it hard not to,” you say weakly; it’s the truth. You’re here because Lyney, throughout his little visits, has made you care so deeply for him that you started to look forward to each visit. “…Is that a no? Was that too much of a request?”

Lynette has a ghost of a smile on her face. “It’s perfect.”

The room is silent as you enter. You feel shame for visiting someone’s room without them knowing, even though you’ve been given complete permission by his own sister. Still, your face burns the closer you reach Lyney’s bed.

“Hey, Lyney,” you murmur as you kneel beside the bed. “I brought some of your favorites.”

He doesn’t respond, much to no one’s surprise. You wonder why you feel so disappointed that those lilac eyes aren’t looking at you, begging you, wooing you. Defeated, you place the bag of macarons on his bedside table, mostly an excuse to inspect his face closer.

His brows are furrowed, and a thin layer of sweat is on his forehead, even in his sleep. He looks nicer in casual clothes and his hair free from products.

A bowl of water is near his head, with a towel sitting in the bottom.

“You get really sick when you get it, huh?” you muse to no one in particular, gently wiping the sweat off his forehead. Then to his neck, where the warmth of his fever nearly burns you just by hovering close.

Lyney shifts a little. You pause with bated breath. Still, he doesn’t wake up.

“I’ll be right back,” you whisper, taking the bowl in your hands.

His nose is really red. You shouldn’t be finding it cute—really, what’s wrong with you recently?

But your movement brushed against the blanket over his torso and, with it, came revealing the side of his waist. His stomach is wrapped with bandages, and a spot of dried blood is seeping in on the bandage on his side.

Your eyes widen in horror, nearly making a loud, indecipherable noise before you catch yourself.

You rush to the door, finding Lynette in the same spot of the loveseat where you left her. Her eyes flick up to you, brows arched in surprise.

“Lynette, he—”

She catches on quickly. “He’s alright,” Lynette says, though her ears are curled back in distress. “He’s been given help. We knew of someone affiliated with Hydro and its healing properties. He’s alright.”

Well. Of course, she knew; she’s his sister. You can’t bear the thought of Lyney in the middle of a thunderstorm, finding himself in front of Lynette, bleeding. You feel sick just thinking about it. You can’t possibly imagine what Lynette has been going through, having to take care of her brother by herself.

You hesitate. “Can I come back here tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Wait—really?”

Lynette pauses. “Should I have not said yes?”

“I just thought you’d be a little more stern with me because of… you know…”

“I respect those who put my brother in his place,” Lynette says, then: “And those who don’t run from us when they find out what our identities are,” and that’s that.

“You brought a flower,” is the first thing Lynette says as soon as she opens the door the following morning.

“He gives me one every visit,” you explain, and you’re not quite sure why it’s humiliating to do so. “So, I want to pay him back at least this once.”

“Rainbow Rose,” Lynette notes as she shuts the door softly. You follow her into Lyney’s room, but she halts before you two can reach the door at arm’s length. “Do you know what this one means?”

You look at the Rainbow Rose nestled in your palm. It's been well taken care of since he gave it to you—all of them had been. “No, I can’t say that I do…?”

“He’s given everyone else Lumidouce Bells because this flower is a little more special.”

Lynette reaches for your hand, gently pushing the Rainbow Rose until you’re holding it against your chest.

She looks into your eyes. “That flower is like him giving his heart to you. Please, take care of it some more. Don’t give it back, okay?”

And as you mull over her words, she leaves. And left you standing in front of Lyney’s room alone, with your entire face feeling as if it’s been burnt by the sun.

But this is no time for distractions, no matter the implications. Lyney still hasn’t woken up yet, and it’s time to pay him back. He deserves that much.

“You finally feel better?”

Lyney blinks. Or, at least, he tries to, but his eyes weigh heavier than usual. He lays back down and chooses to close them back again. “Ugh…” he rasps out, “Lynette. My side is still hurting a little, but it’s much more bearable than yesterday. I thought I was about to die!”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Lynette says, handing him a glass of water. “You already caused quite a scene.”

“Hmmm?” Lyney answers absentmindedly, finding himself ready to fall asleep again.

“You didn’t get injured yesterday. That was five days ago. And the bakery shop owner kept coming over every day.”

Lyney’s eyes definitely open at that. “What did you say?”

Lynette’s tail flicks. “The bakery has been closed for about four days now, and no one else but I know that it’s because the person responsible for it has been here in this room instead, taking care of you. It was even on The Steambird.”

Lyney’s finding it difficult to catch up. “Wait… wait. Are you saying…”

“You made Y/N, Freminet, and I worry so much, you know,” she chides.

Lyney’s heart shatters. “Does that mean—my wound—”

“I wasn’t the one changing your bandages,” Lynette says with a tiny smile as she watches her brother’s face explode in red. “Do you still feel tired?”

“Not at all!” Lyney springs up from his bed, his grin wild and insane. His side will most definitely punish him for this, but that’s far in the back of his mind. “Ah, so Y/N does care. All my efforts weren’t in vain!”

Lynette sighs, but still stays to listen.

“And—bandaging my wounds? While I was out cold? How intimate… My heart is racing at the thought of it.” He clutches his chest, because it’s true despite his dramatics.

“I’ve never seen Y/N before; I’ve only heard of what you told me every time you came back from the bakery,” Lynette starts, urging him to lie back down. She presses a towel on his forehead, and he yelps because it feels ice-cold. “But you seem wrong about every assumption, Lyney. I know the face of someone who cares.”

Lyney falters, his expression softening impossibly. “Y/N’s not mad I missed out on the show I promised…?”

“Y/N was worried about the same thing, but in your shoes.”

Lyney hides his face with his hands, but that’s a fruitless attempt. Lynette has a clear view of his red ears. “I can’t tell if I’m elated or mortified,” he groans. “Both, perhaps?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Lynette says, getting up at the same time the door swings open.

“I’m sorry I’m late!” you exclaim, though hushedly. “Lynette, I brought food to eat. Here, help yourself. Has Lyney woken up yet?”

“Oh, he…” Lynette takes your handmade lunch and glances down at her brother, briefly surprised to see him with his eyes shut and his breathing as steady as it had been when he was sleeping. “Excuse me, I want to eat.”

“Wait, Lynette—” you start, but Lynette is already walking away and eventually shuts the door. She must be very excited to eat her food.

You turn to Lyney, and the world falls silent. Lyney doesn’t know why he’s terrified of you finding out he’s awake. Was it guilt? Shame for a promised night in ruin, or humiliation for seeing him at his lowest point? He grips the sheet under the blanket tighter. His heart racing seems like it’s neither of those.

“Hello again, Lyney,” you say in a low whisper, and all of a sudden, his grip loosens, and his shoulders lose tension. “You should wake up soon. I promised Lynette I’d bake your favorite dessert if you do.”

You're not expecting any reply, ceremoniously reaching for the towel on his bedside table, like you’ve lived here as much as he has been.

The steady beat of your heart calms him, and he wonders how you aren’t hearing how fast his is beating yet.

Lyney finds himself enjoying being under your tender care, until the warmth on his side disappears and he panics instantly. His eyes fly open just in time for him to see you leaning in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Lyney slips, instinctively reaching out to hold your head in place.

You both freeze, staring at each other wide-eyed.

His thoughts race. Four days. You’ve closed the bakery shop you swore to him you wouldn’t ever abandon just for anyone—yet you did for him. You’ve been taking care of him. And kissing his cheek, for god’s sake. Four days you’ve been caring for him so sweetly, and he wasn’t awake enough to experience all of it himself.

“You’re—you’re awake!” you exclaim, your hands on both of his cheeks. “Lyney, oh, you’re— Wait, how long have you been—”

Lyney silences you with a kiss on the side of your mouth. He smiles at your dumbfounded expression. “You shouldn’t promise my dessert,” he says, and he winces when his voice doesn’t come out as smoothly as intended. “I don’t want any more promises to break.”

“You didn’t break any promise, Lyney,” you say softly, and he blinks when your eyes glisten. “You’re awake right now, aren’t you?”

“Then,” he straightens to sit up, grinning, “let me make it up to you. I promised you a night you would never forget, didn’t I?”

A/N not another lyney fic...

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #lyney x gender neutral reader #genshin x you

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noiryinn · 29 days

Text

game over!

pairing(s): nagi seishiro x male reader

summary: when a game of fortnite leads to sex

warnings: amab!reader, top!reader, bottom!nagi, anal sex, crying, begging, riding, belly bulge, edging, overstimulation, reader is kinda mean, slut shaming, (minors + fem aligned dni, all characters aged up)

word count: 1.1k

a/n: first smut, enjoy! (kinda rushed and bad)

you were watching your boyfriend play his video games, as always. it annoyed you a bit, but you saw how happy he was playing them so you never said anything.

“hey, nagi?” you called out to him while laying on his bed. “yeah?” he replied, not even glancing away from his monitor. you really didn’t know what to say, you just called his name to he would pay some attention to you. your sex life has been kinda dry, so you just said the first thing that came to mind.

“if you win that game i’ll give you a blowjob,” you blurted out before quickly regretting it. you couldn’t take it back though, since he turned his head to look at you, “yeah?” nagi seemed to be challenging you. “and if i lose?” he asked. well, you didn’t think this far ahead so you just blurted something out again, “you have to ride me.”

honestly, it didn’t seem like a fair deal, but he took it anyway. “fine, deal.” you blinked in surprise, you never expected him to actually take it, knowing how much he hates doing the work himself. nagi was a pillow princess, there was no doubt. every time he laid there and looked pretty. a part of you really want this, maybe as pay back for the numerous amount of times he always payed attention to games and not you.

…

spoiler alert, he didn’t win the game.

…

“f-fuck! [name]!” the white haired boy whined in a pathetically high pitched voice. his eyes glossed over in pleasure as tears pricked the corner of his eyes. “please— ah…no- no more…” he begged. his moves were sloppy and uncoordinated, drool dribbled down his chin. his face was puffy and it was clear as day that he was wildly embarrassed.

“oh, seishiro…you’re getting sloppy, don’t tell me this is your limit? poor baby, is it nap time already?” you mocked him lightly. you couldn’t help laugh how he became such a overstimulated mess in just a few minutes. a small frown played on his face, “i’m not— agh…done yet!” nagi managed to slip out. “good. then prove it.” you condescendingly smirked at him, now it was your turn to sit and enjoy the show.

you fully took in the sight of your boyfriend. his ears and face flushed a mad red. he looked like he was nearing his limit, but didn’t want to admit it yet. the room echoed with the sounds of skin slapping and moans. you loved the sound of squelching when he sank onto your dick. there was even a outline of where it was on his stomach.

with a huff, he messily picked up his pace, drooling all over himself as he made pitiful attempts to keep up the pace. “is that all you can do?” you sneered, “shut up! i can— ngh…do more!” he made a weak jab to insult you back, but really he could barely think at all.

nagi was so perfect. the way he handled your dick, moaned, his facial expressions, you loved it. his pride made him refuse to admit that he was at his breaking point. you wanted to toy with him a bit, so you put your hands on either side of his hips and pushed him down onto your dick. his toes curled and his back arched in the most erotic way possible as he let out a lewd moan.

nagi’s head threw back and he tried to cover his mouth to stifle his moan when your dick hit his prostate in just the right area. you could feel his cute little hole clench around you. he was swearing up a storm under his breath, breathless ‘fucks’ and ‘shit’ rolled out his mouth as he kept babbling.

“i wanna…come ughh— please” he whined and begged as warm tears of pleasure rolling down his cheeks. “awh, already? but i was just starting to have some fun…” you pouted, “but hold it in, will ya?” you asked him. “i can’t, mnghh…[name] you’re being mean!” he said weakly. “you can’t what? use your words…” you looked at him in his eyes.

he stared at you back with that same frown on his face, it looked like he was choking back words. you waited for him to speak, wondering what he had to say. “i can’t…ride you anymore— ah!” you slammed him down on your dick again, “you’re too big…nghh…” nagi kept rambling on, “you’re— so mean…just fuck me already…please…?” he gave you a pleading look and you sighed. “looks like poor baby can’t ride me anymore. don’t worry, i’ll take it from here” you teased him one last time before switching the position you two were in.

nagi laid on the bed, his face having a fucked out expression, both of his legs wrapped around your waist. you barely gave him a moment to recollect his thoughts when you sharply thrusted into him, knocking the wind out of nagi’s lungs. you pounded deeply into his hole. the sound of his moans sounding almost pornographic.

nagi could barely think, let alone form words. all he could do was just lay there and moan. “you are such a whore for dick, seishiro.” you smirked, he made a desperate attempt to shake his head no, but he was too fucked out to actually do anything. “what a little slut, bet you lost that game on purpose huh?” you whispered in his ear. his only response was a little whimper.

you were surprised when nagi tightened his legs around you, rutting against you for any sort of friction, for you to go deeper. you smiled at this and leaned in to kiss him deeply. he lazily wrapped his arms around your neck. when you two let go to breathe, he whispered something softly in your ear, “mm…[name] i love you…so please, don’t go easy on me, okay…?” in that moment, what kept you from holding back (barely anything), just shattered in that moment.

…

“[name]~ my back hurts” nagi grumbled. you chuckled softly at that, “you were the one who wanted me to go hard, seishiro. don’t make a fuss.” he just responded with a petulant look. you two were on the bed looking at each other, sweaty and breathless. even when nagi was a mess he was beautiful. “you were being mean too…” he complained. “sorry, i couldn’t help it when you were being such a brat…” you remarked.

“ugh…that was such a hassle…i don’t know why we did it…” nagi mumbled while sinking into the bed. “you agreed to the bet!” you groaned, rolling your eyes at his complaint. for an athlete, he was sure unmotivated. “can you wash me? i feel gross…” he asked with puppy-dog eyes. it wasn’t unusual for him to ask you to do things like that. “okay, okay. i’ll carry you.” you sighed, unable to resist his adorable look. though it was a bit of work, you didn't mind doing it for nagi.

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ddarker-dreams · 2 months

Text

Worthy Motivator.

Blade x Reader.

Warnings: Typical Blade morbidity, Blade's slightly yan because I can never write him as Normal, and not SFW implications. Word count: 1k.

Author notes are at the end of the story!

Washcloth in hand, you wipe away the perspiration clinging to your skin.

While doing so, you squint, an act your reflection obediently mimics, confirming that yes; this disheveled figure is indeed you. You smooth out your hair, moisturize your face, then apply a light layer of toner. The process is completed in a timely fashion. A few hand motions made midair dim the bathroom’s lights.

Yawning, the door slides open at your behest, retreating into the wall like a turtle does its shell. The room is dome-shaped and customized to your liking. A light birch wood floor, pale pink walls, and windows showcasing scenery of a tulip field stretching on for miles. Windmills dot the distance, turning at their leisure. Gentle orange hues from two rising suns envelop the room in a cozy glow.

If you hadn’t known any better, you’d believe you were actually on the planet Ethos, not traversing the cold, unforgiving space between galaxies.

While playing with the settings to change the time being depicted to twilight, it finally dawns on you that you’re not alone.

Blazing eyes freeze you in place and your breath catches in your throat.

“Blade,” you greet, wincing at how gracelessly the word rolls from your tongue, “I didn’t expect…”

You cut yourself off, figuring that finishing the sentence will strengthen the bizarre atmosphere. What can be said, anyway? ‘Thanks for that,’ or ‘couldn’t have done it without you,’ maybe? Both options seem equally terrible. To make matters worse, he doesn’t explain why he’s stuck around. He continues to stand beside your nightstand, arms crossed over his chest, his lips drawn in a straight line.

You’re the only one boasting signs of your previous tryst, the most obvious being your unsteady gait. Hoping to convey some decorum, you clasp your hands behind your back and straighten your posture. Surely, he’ll spill whatever’s on his mind and then make himself scarce. That’s been his modus operandi ever since this undefined relationship stumbled into existence. You tried not to take it personally. You’re both adults, if he doesn’t want to stick around for pillow talk, you won’t fault him for it.

His eyes sear through your being.

“You’re going to Illij.”

You blink, thrown off by the flat delivery and the intentions it conceals. He’s either painfully blunt or cryptic in his word choice. It’d be nice if he could find a middle ground between both extremes, but that’s wishful thinking.

With unusual impatience, he adds, “Alone.”

Ah.

A certain magenta-haired beauty’s previous words resurface in your mind.

“—Alone? Not taking Bladie along for the ride?” she had tutted. “You’ll hurt his feelings.”

You thought she was teasing, as she’s wont to do, yet your developing dilemma proves otherwise. That, or you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge the truth in her words.

Whilst shifting your weight from one foot to another, you meekly reply, “Kafka gave me permission.”

He has the audacity to roll his eyes at you.

“Permission, huh?”

The condescension corrodes your former sheepishness.

Placing a hand on your hips, you reply, “That’s the word I used, yes.”

Your room pulsates with palpable tension. He stands to his full height — having been seated on your bed’s edge — sauntering over like a cat poised to pounce. You cross your arms over your chest as the distance shrinks. He’s yet to fully dress himself, wearing only his signature gray pants. His bare torso is marred with innumerable scars that vary in length and angle. Every time you both succumb to the heat of passion, his bandages occupy a new spot, depending on the circumstances of his latest battles. Presently, the cloth coils around his midsection and upper left arm.

He’s close enough now for you to notice the latter unraveling.

It isn’t anything logical that urges you forward. The sentiment resides deep in the recesses of your psyche, unsuccessfully shoved down by denial and trepidation. This formless substance takes shape as you meet him halfway. Blade towers over you. Given the massive gap in your abilities, you should fear him, but you know your pounding heart isn’t spurred by negative emotion.

Much to his perplexity, you set aside the nascent quarrel, focusing your attention elsewhere. Nimble fingers resecure the rebellious cloth.

“You’re terrible at taking care of yourself,” you mutter. “Honestly, what am I s’posed to do with you…?”

It’s subtle, but this shift in tone relaxes his muscles. That is, until you admit:

“I don’t like you being my bodyguard.”

Confusion contorts his countenance, then something more raw; something dangerously intimate.

“I don’t like seeing you get hurt because of me,” you continue, lowering both your voice and head. “It’s… it’s awful and— and then— you don’t even care!”

Hoping to avoid further humiliation, you stop there, taking deep breaths to prevent tears from flowing. This wasn’t the direction you wanted the evening to take. You wanted to take a bath, dip into a game Silver Wolf wouldn’t stop raving about, and then prepare for your imminent trip. The trip that’d put thousands of lightyears between you and a man whose blood spilled for your sake could rival an ocean.

“I’ll be fine on my own. I’ve got Silv’s disguise software and she knows how to track me. So — I don’t know — take it easy, or something. You’ve got the month off.”

His response is immediate. “I can’t.”

“Wh— did you not hear anything I just said?” you sputter.

“I heard,” he confirms. He raises his hand to the bandage you rewrapped, as if trying to savor your lingering warmth. “When you’re gone, I cannot ‘take it easy.’”

Blade uses your stupefaction to his advantage. He takes your much smaller hand into his and places it over his heart. It thumps at a slow, steady pace, like it hasn’t been obliterated and formed anew thousands of times. Your fingers twitch. His body, though colder than the average person’s, emits just enough warmth to indicate life. You feel the raised, textured skin that’s present above his every vital organ. It speaks of untold horrors; untold suffering.

His chest rumbles as he says, “If I’ve no choice but to live… you’d make for a worthwhile reason.”

You rest your forehead against his chest and squeeze your eyes shut.

Kafka… are you sure it isn’t my feelings that’re in the most danger?

A/N: owing to mental illness, aside from nexus, i devised another storyline for (slightly) less unhinged blade, this time with a stellaron hunter reader. while it has the material to make a series, i don't plan on starting up another multi-chaptered work until i make further progress into my current project 😭 still, i'm happy to talk about it if anyone's curious! here are some tidbits that give additional story context for this universe:

reader isn't super thrilled to be a stellaron hunter. a desperate situation ended in them joining the ranks. they're the emanator of the aeon of illumination, whose name i'm still undecided on. essentially, they're a 'consumer of stars,' capable of absorbing + storing well. you guessed it. stars. as you can imagine, this ability can provide immeasurable energy or devastation depending on its usage.

as a consequence, when reader's performing the sealing process, they're extremely vulnerable. it isn't exactly subtle, people tend to notice when their nearby sun is going cyaaaaaa ✌ and try to stop them. that's where bladie comes in. he kills anything and anyone that threatens them.

ethos is a pretty meadow planet that's known for harvesting clean energy (hydro, solar, wind) and using minimum technology. most of its inhabitants go their entire lives without ever seeing a computer. long distance communication is carried out through a dedicated fleet of carrier pigeons.

illij is a laissez-faire paradise. consumerism galore. ads projected in the night sky, ads projected in your dreams in certain low income areas where people can't afford space adblock™. it's a lot but sometimes reader appreciates the distraction.

#blade x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #stellaron hunters x reader #hsr blade #reader insert #blade brainrot #my stuff

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steviebears · 2 years

Text

Hard to Love

SUMMARY: Seeing Eddie with the beautifully perfect Chrissy was weighing on your insecure heart. Eddie notices and calls you over.

GENRE: angst, fluff (good ending)

WARNINGS: insecure fem!reader

You watched intently from across the hall as Eddie closely listened to whatever Chrissy was saying. He had his arm leaned up against the locker next to hers, the look in his eye was very telling.

Chrissy looked perfect as always. She never seemed to have a bad hair day, or bad clothes day or bad.. face day. She looked too good in that little cheer outfit and you were sure Eddie thought the same.

They were such a cliche.

God, why couldn't you be like her? Be so dainty and cute like she was. You'd only ever be 'one of the guys' to Eddie, you were sure of it. There was honestly no point in pining after him anymore, he obviously had his eye on someone else this entire time. Someone much, much prettier than you ever could be.

You arrived at his door cold and shivering, hair damp and clothes soaked.

"What the- did you bike here?" He looks confused as he ushers your inside, taking your coat off for you.

"My mom has my car and you said it was an emergency." He stares at you with guilt and worry in his eyes, feeling terrible for making you bike in the rain.

"You need to take a hot shower or you'll catch a cold- if you haven't already."

"What's the emergency? Doesn't seem very pressing." You ask on the way to his bathroom.

"It's not urgent. Just- take a shower, love." He said before speeding to his room to grab you a shirt and some pants to change into.

It felt weird, getting undressed in Eddie's bathroom, smelling his shampoo and staring into the same wall he did when he was- that's not important. You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, feeling fed up with the feelings that bubble up every time you are around him.

You entered the room, Eddie's eyes widening at the bareness of your legs. You felt a little embarrassed and set his pajama pants atop his dresser.

Your fingers played with the hem of your shirt as you stared into the tv displaying some gameshow on a low volume.

"The pants didn't fit." You say out of the blue.

"What?" He asks, eyes not leaving the tv.

"Your pajama pants didn't fit, and then my bra was all wet so I couldn't wear that either. I wasn't trying to be a slut-" You start to ramble.

"What? I never thought you were, what is this about? Is that why you've been so distant? Did someone say somethin' to you?" Eddie shifts up, sitting straighter while his eyes bore into yours. He was going to kill whoever called you a slut.

"No! No. I don't know why I said that."

"It's not like you would ever see me in that way anyway." You say under your breath with a dry chuckle. You didn't expect him to hear it or care even if he had because it was true. He would only see Chrissy that way, obviously. It was selfish of you to think about him the way you did when he was so clearly hers. He shifts his body to fully face you this time.

"What?"

You don't say anything, because if you did, you were sure the lump in your throat would let loose and all of your pent up tears would spring loose. He studied your face closely. It wasn't often- especially now- that he got to look at you so close. The plumpness of your cheeks and the curve of your cheek bones, the shape of your nose and the little space where your brow bone met the bridge. He was looking so closely, that he quickly noticed the quivering of your bottom lip.

You just couldn't stop thinking about how much he probably likes her. And how much you would give for him to feel that way about you.

"Y/n." His tone was so low and hushed, and him saying your name alone was enough for the first droplet to push through the threshold. Your facial expression didn't change, just stayed the same as the first few hot tears rolled down, leaving a wet surface behind them for the cold air to cling to.

His warm hand pulled your face toward him.

"What is it, sweetheart?" You squeezed your eyes shut at your pet name causing more tears to fall.

"Why do you have to do that?" You whisper.

"Do what, baby?" You shake your head.

"Make it so hard to love you." You open your eyes to see the most sympathetic yet confused face you'd ever seen.

"You really don't know?" You almost laugh, it was kind of funny how oblivious he was to how much you loved him. He wanted to speak, to say anything but his throat closed up on him.

"I see the way you are with Chrissy. You don't have to say anything." You look back at the tv in hopes of letting this whole thing go.

"Chrissy?" He was still turned toward you and his eyes were studying your expression.

"I know you like her." His eyebrows furrow. Sure, she was pretty, but so were you. How could he pick Chrissy over his girl?

"But- Chrissy's not even..." He starts, thinking about all the things he loved about you, having a hard time choosing just one to say.

"Right. I should've guessed. Not even she is good enough for you, you'd like someone like the chicks on all these posters you have." You were salty now, just honestly pissed off that you weren't enough.

"What the hell are you talking about? I don't want Chrissy or the girls on my stupid posters." You stay silent, eyes looking through the tv at this point.

"I want you."

You finally turn to face him and make a genuine frown.

"You don't have to lie." Your voice breaks and the tears start up again.

He sits up.

"But I'm not! Why do you think I even hang out with you so much?"

"Because I'm just like one of the guys."

"Do you see me one on one with Gareth calling him my baby girl?" You sigh and wipe away your tears. The look of your puppy dog eyes was breaking Eddie's heart.

"I'm in love with you Y/n. How many more ways do you want me to say it?"

"But Chrissy, she's so pretty." You say slowly in such a heart wrenching tone.

"Who cares? You're prettier, always have been." He nudged your chin up to look at him.

"D'you really mean it?" Your face was still frowning and your eyes were glistening.

"Of course I mean it. You're the prettiest girl in the whole world. I can't believe you don't know that." His words were such a reassuring relief to you that you couldn't help your hands flinging around his neck as you bury your face in his chest. You sob into it, finally able to release all your insecurity. He wraps his arms around you and hugs you as tight as he can. His heart is breaking at the sound of your cries and the dampness of his shirt. He pets your hair as you start to calm down.

When you look up, the two of you are so close you can feel his breath on your lips. God, they looked to plump and soft. As if he was reading your mind, he closed the space between you and pressed his lips against yours. They were as soft as they looked. The kiss was short, seeing as he was testing the waters. But once he pulled away you chased his lips and pulled him in for another one causing him to lightly laugh at your eagerness.

"For the record, I do see you that way. You're driving me crazy wearing my shirt with no pants." He murmurs on your lips, making you giggle and tackle him.

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savannahsdeath · 10 months

Note

hiii i love ur fics ive read them all i ws wondering if you could like do a 18+ with a extremely jealous ellie??

thank you sm ily😭💞and yes ofc i tried my best!!

JEALOUS!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

summary: els didnt like some of the messages she found on your phone..

warnings: 18+!! smut, jealousy(obv), language

writers note: sorry it took me so long to post it😓ive actually written it like one day after you requested but i had already some posts planned and i didnt want to change everything now💔

You came back after a meeting with your co-workers to see your girlfriend waiting for you. As soon as she heard the door open, she leaned on the doorframe of the living room, looking at you with an undefined expression.

"You're late." She mumbled, her voice sounding mad but the way she planted wet little kisses all over your face said otherwise.

Ellie's closeness wasn't just out of greeting, but out of an act of possessiveness and jealousy that you grew accustomed to in the relationship.

You sighed and looked at Ellie for a second, before saying, "Yeah, I'm late. Sorry." You gave her a quick kiss too while looking for your keys. "Meeting ended late." Your voice wasn't as cheery as it usually is.

Ellie then rolled her eyes. "Did you really had to stay that long?" She muttered loudly, trying to hide the jealousy that was so clearly showing.

"It was important." You said, finding your keys and pulling them out of your pockets. You didn't sound upset because it was hard to be upset with Ellie. She was like a little kitten who was possessive and needy at times, but still oh so sweet.

Ellie rolled her eyes again but smiled, and she leaned onto you with her arms wrapped around your waist in a hug. This was where you felt safe and home.

"C'mon," she said softly, "let's go to bed."

You nodded. "I'll just go to the bathroom, 'kay?" You asked, giving her your bag, like you always did after work - she'll lug it upstairs for you.

"Of course, darling." Ellie smiled as she took the bag from you, her expression now fully warm and affectionate. You were lucky to have her, and you knew that.

You went to the bathroom and started to wash your face and brush your teeth, taking a moment to yourself.

After a few minutes, and a good splash of cold water on your face, you exited the bathroom and made your way upstairs. Ellie was waiting for you in the bedroom.

She was doing something on your phone, which didn't surprise you - she was probably just going through your gallery, staring at your pics. You had nothing to hide anyway.

She often did that, smiling widely and mumbling things like 'my wife's so pretty'.

This time, though, she was silent and had a frown on her face.

"Who's Steve?" She asked when she saw you.

"I don't know." You answered honestly. You had no idea who is she talking about, probably a random boy following you.

"You two texted." She passed your phone to you with an opened short conversation. He replied to your story, complimenting you, you thanked him, that's all.

"Yeah, I remember now. What about him?" You lied down next to her, curiously staring at the screen, expecting some more messages to magically appear and explain the situation.

Ellie sat on top of you, playing with the hem of your shirt. "He's hitting on you." She said as she got more bold, now not only fingers but her whole hands sliding up and down your waist.

"I don't know him. He just texted me once." You shrugged, reading the conversation over and over again to find which part made your girlfriend act like that.

"Yeah, and what does his text say?" She smirked, not in her usual innocent way, but in a 'think twice before you answer' way.

You scrolled to his first message and read it out loud. It was simple "stunning💞" in a reply to your story - a photo Ellie took of you at the beach a week ago but you forgot to post it before.

"Exactly. Now, what are you wearing on that pic?" Her smirk widened as she started to undo the button of your jeans.

You didn't pay much attention to her moves, focusing on her orders. "A swimsuit. I mean, we were at th-"

She shushed you, pressing her lips against yours. She pulled away after a good minute, leaving you breathless. She forced the phone, which slipped off of your embrace while she kissed you, back between your fingers.

"Stop explaining yourself or I'll think you actually have something to explain. For now, I'm just asking simple questions. Do I look like I'm mad?" She held your chin with one of her hands, while the other was unbuttoning your formal-looking work shirt.

She really didn't look mad, but you knew it's just her ability to camouflage.

You let out a relieved sigh as soon as you catched your breath. "Oh. Right. Look, it's not a big deal, I told him I'm-"

"Busy. Yeah, I know." She cut you off. "Pretty pathetic excuse."

"What was I supposed to say?" You barely managed to say as she started tracing a path of messy, wet kisses from your neck down your body.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" She laughed and you could feel the vibrations in her breath caused by her sudden outburst on your stomach, right were she stopped to answer you.

You stayed quiet, not wanting to make it worse or seem even dumber in her eyes than you already do, if that's even possible. She noticed your confusion and didn't pressure you to read her mind.

"That you have a girlfriend. That she told you to post it. That she took this pic." She made a pause after every sentence to cling her tongue, followed quickly after with her mouth, to your core, watching your body slightly squirm. You didn't even realize when she arrived that low, and when she took off your underwear, but that wasn't important anymore. "That it was her idea to go to the beach. That she helped you pick your swimsuit. That she saw you in it first..."

"Els... Stop..." You moaned out, feeling jealous of how unbothered she looks while you were already soaking.

"Stop what?" She laughed, sucking on your clit while taking off her rings.

This simple, two-words question, turned out to be more difficult to answer than you'd thought. Actually, what did you had in mind while telling her to stop? Hers 'that she...' calculations? Her hand placement, which had a bruising grip on your thighs? Or her tongue, that had definitely affected you the most, making you drop the phone, screen-down on the bed, and hopefully hold into the bed sheets?

"That's what I thought." She said before you could think of a correct answer.

She had a whole scolding prepared in her mind, but you wasn't honoured to hear it as she had a better plan. Still, she wanted to talk to you through it, watching you do your best to answer or just understand her while she makes you look and feel like a total mess. In order to not leave your cunt hopelessly tremble, right after she took her tongue off of your clit, she pushed two fingers into your entrance.

You gasped, squeezing your thighs together, which made Ellie laugh. It was a normal reaction - her move was unexpected - but your eyes rolling back always got a reaction out of her.

"Back to the topic, want to tell me why you decided saying 'you're busy' will work?" She smirked, her fingers pumping in and out, clenching and unclenching, in a painfully fast and rough way. Her thumb rubbed your clit, replacing her tongue.

"I... If I-'d" You stuttered, taking a deep breath after every letter you managed to say.

"Y-Y...You what?" She mocked your mumbling, her smirk turning into a smile.

Your back arched, making your hips move higher, but Ellie held them down with her free arm. Even though her nails were trimmed short, so she won't have to worry she'll hurt your pretty cunt, you swore you feel them digging into your waist.

"That hurt-s..." You whispered, but you weren't really bothered by it, even though your eyes were starting to get teary.

"Yeah? Don't worry, I'm sure Steve would make it hurt more... if you'd give him a chance, that is. But you didn't and won't." Her free hand let go of your hip, taking your phone and staring at the unlocked screen, clearly thinking or considering something. "I know you're mine and you know that too." She finally concluded, but right before she put the device down, you got a notification.

She mischievously smiled as she saw who's the message from.

"You got yourself a fan." She laughed as she opened your conversation with the reason of her jealous behaviour. "'Still busy?' and a fucking winking emoji. Jesus, that's just embarrasing."

You couldn't help but admire how good her attention span was - one hand making you a whining mess, other typing on your phone, eyes barely looking away from you (only to read his text, she typed hers blindly), mind probably racing with ideas to make him, or you, or both of you, regret your little conversation. She was obviously overreacting, but then again, your profile was full of Ellie and there's no way he missed all the cute posts about her.

"Should I show him how 'stunning' you look right now?" She chuckled and shook her head. "Nah, this view is for me only."

"What d-id you do?" You stuttered, trying to take your phone back, but she placed it out of your reach and aggressively grabbed your wrist.

"I liked it more when you moaned instead of asking questions." And just as she said that, she got faster again, making your cunt tighten even more around her fingers. Even though it may seem she's not paying much attention to how precise she is, she kept violating your sensitive spot, not missing it once.

Your head hit the pillow, leaning back on it and exposing your throat from which many signs of your pleasure came.

She was wondering again, her eyes looking you up and down before finally staying at your face. Her smile faded as she looked at you for a few moments. Then, she picked up your phone and passed it to you, following by simple but stern words; "Block him."

Your hands were shaky, so instead of pressing the block button, you almost accidentally called him a few times.

Ellie's smirk came back as she looked at you obediently fulfill her requests. She knew she could make you do anything she wanted now, but she didn't feel the need to. The only thing she needed was you with her - her only.

She took the mobile from you, whispering soft 'good girl' as she saw you succeed to do what she asked you to.

"Next time, if someone bothers you, just tell me straight away." She patted your cheek, her focus going back to what's her right hand doing.

This boy didn't bother you at all, he was just nice. But you knew what Ellie meant - he bothered her. Without arguing, you silently nodded, knowing this is the last time you posted a swimsuit photo on your account.

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4ngel-inc · 5 months

Text

CHUUYA NAKAHARA W/ A TALLER GIRLFRIEND — "𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔤𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔣𝔣 𝔫𝔬𝔴" ୧ ‧₊˚

notes: this is a niche post ok no one judge me—i wrote it for me hehehehe (we all needed this post tho ngl). 1.3k words.

warnings: mdni. fem reader, teasing chuuya (lovingly) about his height but also being worried your own height may bother him, an angry chuuya, he's mad while fingering you, playful teasing.

𝟒:𝟓𝟒 𝐏.𝐌.

"oooh-taking your gloves off? you gonna tickle me to death?" despite the way your pretty lashes fluttered against your warm cheeks as you giggled, chuuya wasn't amused—not in the slightest.

you were sprawled out on your shared bed, relaxing on your back with your hair touseled over the pillow a bit, a few little strands stuck to your lips. he knew you well enough to know you were only looking for attention—you always brought out that little sarcastic side when you were feeling needy for him.

he knew he'd been ignoring you lately—but it wasn't on purpose. there was simply too much work piling up on his desk—too much shit to think about. it was the busiest time of the year for the port mafia, and though he enjoyed his job, he was feeling worn out. even arahabaki itself couldn't sustain him when he worked long days like this.

however, the way you eye-fucked him as he sipped on his favorite red wine, the expensive bottle resting at its usual place on the bedside table, had him thinking maybe he'd play your game for a while, if it meant getting what he wanted in the end.

he wanted you on your knees, begging for forgiveness at your sly little comment. isn't it true that shorter guys are usually less successful in business? i'm so glad that never held you back, baby.

he set the glass on the bedside table next to his gloves with a clink before approaching you at the bed, not climbing on top of you like you clearly expected, you arms making little grabby motions as he came closer—his face was completely neutral, despite your sweet, flirty smile, almost as though he didn't hear your comment at all.

chuuya was fully aware you liked seeing him angry—he teased you about it often. you just wanted to get me riled up, is that it? want some attention, baby? i don't think that's very funny. normally he brushed off your little comments—making his own in return and poking fun at you as well, but today, he simply wasn't in the mood.

it was his day off, he just wanted to fuck you, wanted you to help him relax—was that too much to ask from his sweet girl?

it had been difficult to focus on the words you were saying previously with how kissable you looked in that moment, soft lips and pretty eyes staring back at him like he held your whole world in his hands—he could never resist you. you were his greatest weakness, he'd accepted it long ago.

however, as soon as you made that comment, something darkened in his eyes.

"that's right, baby. the gloves are coming off—you wanted to see me like this, anyways, didn't you?"

only silence filled the room as he finished off his glass of wine, letting the red liquid slide down his throat with a single swallow.

chuuya's personality always seemed to change when he took his gloves off, and after almost a year together, he'd still never actually told you how the being inside him works—he'd only told you the gloves helped him stay in control, that they made him feel more human.

"i know why you're doing this, anyways." he sighed before rolling his eyes, leaning over your body and pressing his lips to yours—a sweet, soft kiss.

"oh? and why is that?" you pressed your lips to his again, surely tasting the lingering wine on his lips—clearly craving more as your hands slipped under his shirt to squeeze at his waist, pulling him closer to you.

"because my anger gets that little cunt wet, doesn't it? makes my slutty little girlfriend wanna fuck my brains out, yeah?"

you squirmed under his touch as his fingers trailed down your body, stopping when he felt the dampness of your pussy through your panties, rubbing soft circles over your clit.

𝟓:𝟎𝟖 𝐏.𝐌.

"hm, you want a boyfriend a little taller than you, that it, baby?"

chuuya was working you open with his fingers—words punctuated by the way he curled them inside you, making you arch your back as your head hung off the edge of the bed, tits bouncing with each harsh thrust of his fingers. his eyes were drawn to the light sheen of sweat covering your skin. you were just so damn beautiful—always so responsive to his touch.

"remember last night, when you came all over my fingers twice? told me i had the prettiest fingers you've ever seen, yeah? that a lie?"

chuuya knew well how his presence affected you—always catching you stealing glances at him when you thought he wasn't looking. you looked at him like he hung the moon with his own hands, and he knew you didn't mean your little sideways comments—but he was intent on punishing you nonetheless.

it was what you wanted, after all. your bratty comments always meant you wanted to be fucked—wanted to be the only thing on his mind for a while. if that's what you wanted, he'd surely give it to you.

"or maybe you wanna run back to those weak fucks you used to date—think they could fuck you better than me, yeah?"

"n-no, only y-you. . ."

his cock was hard and throbbing in his pants, delighted at the way you'd submitted to him entirely, so fucked out you couldn't form a proper sentence. he let his fingers slip out of you slowly, kissing your clit softly as he did, a wave of your slick following as you dripped onto the sheets.

he slapped your pussy with two fingers, harshly rubbing your clit with them afterward and making your thighs tremble.

"you want me to fuck this little cunt, yeah? fine, turn around for me baby—lemme see that pussy."

𝟕:𝟐𝟎 𝐏.𝐌.

"does it ever bother you that i'm taller than you?"

he laughed at that, "c'mon, seriously?" he'd assumed you were past the point of joking about this now.

"no, i'm serious, 'chu—sometimes i wonder if you don't like that about me." you stroked his cheek as he lay next to you, the soft gesture almost lulling him to sleep after fucking you so intensely—he was worn out from the entire week, only wanting to hide in bed with his favorite girl and sleep for a while.

he let himself sink further into your touch as his eyes drifted closed, voice soft and sleepy. "hmm- never bothered me once, princess. does it bother you?"

"no, not at all, i'm just. . . not very interesting—i guess it's not really about the height thing at all. i sometimes wonder if you'd be happier with someone more like you—someone special." your words sounded a bit more like a confession to yourself than to chuuya.

"that shit means nothing to me—i'm the strongest skill user in the port mafia and i'll beat the shit out of anyone who even looks at you wrong." he was more awake now, words seeming to defend you from some nonexistent threat he had imagined in his head at that moment.

he asssumed you were waiting for more reassurance, that your insecurities were still pulling you away from him, so he continued.

"wouldn't change anything about us—we're damn sure perfect for each other and you know i don't say shit like that often."

you buried your face in his side, reaching up to rest your hand in the curve of his neck—your favorite place, softly stroking the skin there.

"hmm, i agree. but if anyone's perfect here, it's you."

#— love notes: [chuuya] ୧ ‧#bsd x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd fluff #bsd smut #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #chuuya smut

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the-fandom-is-now-my-life · 19 days

Note

Hey >:) Just a thought I had while reading the child creator AU.

What if the child was actually on of the archons? like, would you imagine it being Zhongli or Venti? They be like:

Zhongli: I demand to know who the father is! *looking threadedly while holding his spear, ready to pounce at someone* Creator: *sweating and thought* It's you bu. *The other Archons arguing as to which mortal it was that laid their hands on their creator*

Creator: *looks at them, then looking at Venti* *Venti, catching the creators gaze, winked and took his tonged out, fully knowing he was the father but keeping quite. He wasn't that dumb.*

Anyway that's enough of me, bye!

Archon's son

WC : 1k, venti: 591 zhongli:594

(somehow they ended somewhat close! I thought zhongli would be longer by a fair bit)

Cw:

venti- nahida can see the baby kicking inside the belly (I heard some people feel it's like body horror so just in case)

Zhongli -reader passed out because of low iron, pica/eating rocks

I will admit that this is mostly centered around the idea that they do know that it's theirs or it's likely to but at the beginning there is something along the line of that, anyway, wouldn't it be fun if venti's child could change some features, one day he looks like you and the next he is his dad's clone

“Why is everyone so silent?” Venti fills his glass with some wine, the atmosphere thick enough to cut. You were hosting dinner in your serenitea pot, something informal and a thinly veiled excuse to strengthen links between nations, and somehow the papers written by your physician were next to the door long enough for both zhongli and the tsaritsa to read.

“Their situation implies that they shared bed with a mortal” the tsaritsa crosses her arms above her chest, the way her lips curved and the roll of her eyes show her distaste for the situation.

“If their grace wanted to be accompanied by a man shouldn't that be their choice?” Venti says out loud while feigning innocence “who are we even to judge that?”

“Surprisingly enough Barbatos does have a point, to react like this is to some extent patronizing” Nahida nods along.

“tsk!”

“They seem pleased enough with the current situation so I find no reason to meddle” Raiden speaks for the first time since being seated. As much as the tsaritsa would have liked to snap back at her, you appear from the hallway oblivious to their fight so she chooses to bite her tongue and hope you bring it up later.

“Aren't they fidgety…” Nahida mumbles softly as you pat her hair, the soft white hair mixing with her green streaks. Her head is resting on your lap as you drink tea, bright green eyes focused on the prodding against your skin, some kicks and punches from the inside.

“Mhm, I can feel it in my ribs”

“just one month more, your grace!”

“Never thought a child could be so similar to only one of their parents” Raiden watches the baby from his crib, a small wood cot that Candace sent as a gift from Aaru village.

“Well, to a certain extent I expected that” venti WAS originally a formless air spirit mimicking his friend's form, at first you didn't even think he would be able to reproduce, but here we are and hubris is your biggest sin.

“♪~~♪~” spirit form venti sneaked inside the nursery by the slightly cracked space between the window and the window frame, barely smaller than your pinky finger but just enough for him to slip inside.

A good thing of simply being a bard in his nation was the freedom he enjoys, he is known for his songs and how good they are so it isn't strange when you have him around your house or in your serenitea pot, the pretext that you enjoy music under the shadow of your garden and that your little clone gets lulled to sleep quickly by his soft tunes. Even then it would be strange for him to be around so often so sometimes he just settles for mixing between his son's plushies and watching him play around for a while, after all it isn't like he has anything better to do.

“!!” Swiftly he gets caught by his son's hand and thrown up and down like a doll. This wasn't as smart as he thought.

“Hello, baby” Venti babytalks the the 1 year old seated on the floor playing with stacking blocks when he sees him he smiles. As much as Venti loved the image he couldn't help but be slightly scared as when he opened his eyes they were now his exact same colour.

“Oh, sh-” next blink his eyes were your color, the sane he was born with “how about we make this our little secret we never talk about ever again?”

“Their condition isn't as dire as you are making it seem it's just-” Zhongli tries to calm down Raiden, who visited Liyue under the pretext of cultural exchange.

“It isn't dire? They almost passed out during a leisurely stroll”

“At most they might have gotten low blood pressure”

Baizhu lets your arm go to hush them a bit “they aren't sick, just pregnant and not eating enough iron. May I continue the check-up or do you wish to wait outside?”

“as I insisted, Raiden, their grace isn't ill, they are just pregnant, which falls under no criteria of sickness”

“I meant to tell this to everyone next month but I guess Raiden gets to be the second to know!”

“For one to be impertinent enough to dare bed their grace” Raiden snarls under her teacup, a frown on her lips.

“I must guess their couple must be Ill mannered and uncivil” the tsaritsa follows her idea, the rest of the archon were asked to visit Liyue sooner than arranged to receive an important and very unexpected news, even if they didn't wish to show you directly their discontent between them it was fair enough.

“Don't you seem too calm, Morax?”

“Not at all, I'm burning with hatred” he crosses his legs but makes the point of hitting his knee against the table “I'm so angry I can't even control my moves”

“…”

“i will be prescribing you with a herbal tea to ease the birth process, when you come out Qiqi should have them neatly portioned in the daily brew” Baizhu turns around to give Qiqi the list of flowers and roots and how much of each to put in little silk satchel. As he turns around to follow the examination he sees you close to the flowerpot on the desk and your cheek lightly swollen. A deep sigh leaves hus disappointed face, simply pointing to the pot “please, spit” and you do so, a rock falling back to the dirt. Even then Baizhu still looks disappointed.

“Didn't you tell me to eat more iron?”

“Not from dirt, my grace…”

“Then is iron ore fair game?”

“No… just simply no”

“He is a chunky baby” furina prods at your son's chubby cheek, before the time of delivery the doctors told you to expect twins but unexpectedly enough he was just a big baby around 4kg or 8.8lbs and he keeps growing as times goes.

“As heavy as a bag of stones!”

Lei headbutts your leg, his small hands scratching his scalp “please don't tell me you got lice, I told you to be careful” you settle your cup down on the table as you excuse yourself with cloud retainer, who visited to give you advice at childrearing.

“But I wasn't close to anyone with lice” quickly, your hands start segmenting his scalp looking for lice or eggs but there was nothing behind his ears or on his nape, but when you go higher towards his forehead you find two protrusions that made Lei push your hand away when touched.

“Ah? That does remind me back when Morax ripped his horn off during a fight, tte skin closed and we were so worried it wouldn't grown back, luckily a few months after a new one punctured the skin, even if he was so cranky like a child that season”

“And here I thought because he wasn't born with them he wouldn't get them”

“To suppress such minimal features shouldn't be too much work, even if this one thinks the child would prefer not to”

#genshin impact #gi #sagau #genshin x reader #self aware genshin impact #genshin sagau #genshin venti #venti x reader #venti genshin impact #venti x y/n #venti x you #sagau zhongli #genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli #zhongli x you #sagau x reader #genshin impact sagau #sagau venti

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heich0e · 1 month

Text

there's an east wind blowing beyond your bedroom window.

you know it's from the east because the rain falling outside is hitting the windowpane in a soft tap-tap-tap that occasionally intensifies on a particularly strong gust. you know your bedroom window faces east because every morning you can see the sun cresting in the distance, diffusing—soft and pink and warm on your favourite days—through the gauzy panels of your curtains.

"you up yet?"

it's not morning now. far from it, in fact. the night's still only new, though it's already fully-dark outside—and has been for most of the day thanks to the dreary weather. it's late enough in the evening that most businesses have closed their doors for the day and people have returned to their homes, but not quite late enough to justify the fact that you're already curled up tightly underneath the covers of your bed.

you roll over in your comfortable cocoon and spy touya in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he watches you.

he's got his coat on.

"are you going out?" you ask him, your voice a little thicker than it usually is. you've been awake for a while, but your afternoon nap (that ran longer than you expected) has left it hoarse from disuse.

touya makes a quiet sound of agreement. not quite a grunt, nor a hum, but something somewhere in-between the two.

you push yourself up slightly in bed, propping your body upright on your elbows. "but it's raining."

touya hates the rain, and has for as long as you've known him. he's the first one to complain when dark clouds roll in, to curse as his teeth chatter and he shakes droplets from his hair when he steps through the door after getting caught in an unexpected downpour, to go out of his way to avoid making plans that require him to leave the house at the slightest mention of inclement weather.

"'s letting up a bit, i think," he answers from the doorway with a little shrug. "i just need to run to the convenience store, anyway."

he shuffles a little further into the room as you lift your hand and reach out for him, approaching the edge of the bed wordlessly and slipping his hand into your own. he peers down at you from your bedside as you lift his hand and press it to your cheek.

"what do you need at the store?" you ask him, your lips pursed slightly. it's not that late, and the weather really isn't that bad, but you'd still prefer he stay here with you.

"ran outta patches today," he replies, though there's something almost a little resentful in the statement. even his expression is a bit more annoyed than it had been a moment prior, in a way that almost makes you giggle—but you suppose the nicotine withdrawal could be playing a part in that.

"just patches, right? not patches and a pack—"

"not patches and a pack of cigarettes to tie me over on the walk home," he finishes the sentence for you before you get the chance, rolling his eyes a bit. "i know, i know."

he frees his hand from your grip and pokes your cheek lightly, earning him a little laugh you can't help but let slip through your lips.

"i'm 24 days in, you know. not about to throw it all away now," he reminds you pointedly.

"good," you reply with an encouraging nod and a somewhat cheeky smile. you never doubted him anyway. "make sure you take an umbrella."

he nods, his touch still lingering against your cheek. his fingertips skirt down, tracing along your jaw, until he reaches your mouth. he presses his thumb lightly against your chin, seemingly just to watch your lips part.

"d'ya want anything?"

you shake your head in dissent, but then pause, your eyes lighting up.

"can you get pickled ginger?"

"pickled ginger?" he asks you, a bit incredulously. "again? thought we just got some of that."

"i finished the jar earlier," you reply with a shrug.

"that can't be good for you," touya remarks dryly, letting his hand drop from your face. "you're gonna start pickling yourself from the inside out if you keep eating so much of that stuff."

"it's not my fault that pickling is the superior form of food preparation." you flop back lazily against your pillows, meeting his gaze resolutely. you lift your fingers as you list out the various accolades. "cold, crunchy, sour, kinda sweet, sometimes spicy—what's not to love?"

touya's nose wrinkles. he's never been a huge fan of pickles, but especially not in the volume you've been consuming them lately.

"whatever you say," he answers, knowing now after all this time when he ought to bow out of an argument before it starts. "mom texted me earlier and said she was sending yumi over with side dishes tomorrow, and there'll probably be pickled vegetables in there. so you can wait until then."

"fine," you sniff, and you may pout a little, but touya knows your excitement at his little sister coming to visit outweighs any annoyance you may feel about having to wait a whole twelve hours to get your fix.

outside, the wind picks up again, and the tapping against the windowpane gets a little bit louder.

"sounds like it's getting worse," you murmur, your face turned in the direction of the window. you glance up at him again, blinking from where you're sprawled out across your pillows. "you sure you wanna go out in that?"

touya nods, kneeling at the edge of the bed and dipping down so he can press a kiss to your forehead. you're still warm from sleep, and soft in all the ways he's come to depend on. you smell like your shampoo and your sheets—and a little bit like him too, since the floral-printed bedlinen is as much his own now as it is yours.

"be back soon," he speaks quietly into your skin before pulling away.

you wave him off tiredly, and as he leaves the room, touya wonders if you'll be asleep again before he returns.

he pulls his shoes off the rack in the genkan, tucked away next to yours, and leaves his slippers there as he stuffs his feet into footwear better suited for the elements. he grabs his keys off the little table in the entryway, the keychain you bought for him at the aquarium glinting in the light as he tucks them into his coat pocket. last, he grabs the umbrella from just beside the door—he doubts he'll even use it, but you told him to take it, so he does.

there's an unexpected break in the rain as touya steps out into the spring night, and he blinks up at the sky overhead a bit incredulously when he realizes his luck. he doesn't linger to appreciate it for long, knowing that at any moment his fortune could change, shuffling off in the direction of the convenience store at the other end of the street.

he sidesteps puddles along the sidewalk on his way, admiring how the streetlights ripple in the surface as he passes.

touya used to hate the rain, but he can't help but think that it's not so bad when he knows that he has somewhere—and someone—warm waiting to welcome him home.

#idk what this is if i'm being real w u all #touya i want to make an honest man out of u #let me domesticate u i'm begging #touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #bnha drabble #bnha writing #writing

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wynnyfryd · 6 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 33

part 1 | part 32 | ao3

Chapter 8

cw: period-typical attitudes/language

"Steve," Robin hisses through the phone, and he can practically hear her nostrils flaring. "I have been trapped at Uncle Bobby and Aunt Deb's house for six. days." She drops her voice to a harsh whisper, the tone somehow even more disapproving at a lower volume. "HOW have you not kissed him yet??"

"It's not like I didn't try!" Steve throws his hands up; nearly knocks his broom to the floor. He's finally sweeping up the shards of glass in the living room, because he's tired of wearing shoes in his own house (and because at some point he's going to have to have the kids over whether he wants to or not. He's kind of surprised Erica hasn't shown up demanding to hang Christmas lights yet; that girl is aggressively festive.) "He was all 'ask me in the morning,' so I was gonna ask him in the morning! Not my fault it was Monday morning and his stupid uncle barged in yelling about how he was going to be late for school."

"You really shouldn't call him stupid," she interrupts, "that man is a saint."

"No, you’re right. Wayne's awesome."

It’s true. Wayne walked in on them that morning, like, fully spooning in their sleep — Eddie pressed all along Steve's back with an arm over his waist, their ankles intertwined — and rather than beat Steve's ass and ban him from their house like Steve expected him to, he just awkwardly grunted 'breakfast is ready' and shut the door.

"I'm always right," Robin gloats in his ear.

"You're always the worst."

"You love me." Steve hears shuffling as she adjusts the cord — probably wiggling around to lie on her stomach on the bed and kick her feet up in the air the way she likes — and then she says, "I'm still not seeing how this explains the other five whole days, though."

Jesus. Five whole days. Like she's his unimpressed boss and he’s late with the quarterly reports. "Our schedules kept not lining up! And then he went out of town with Jeff's family for the holiday."

"And you haven't called him?"

Steve glares flatly at the phone; hopes she can feel it through the line. "Literally how would I do that, Robin?"

"Well— I don't know! Maybe..." She hums in thought then snaps her fingers, talking fast. "Ooh! You could ask Wayne for the number? I mean, he'd have to know it in case he needed to reach Eddie, right?"

"Uh huh." Steve loves her solution-oriented brain, he really does, but that's one of the worst ideas he's heard in a while. (And he's including Mike and Dustin's attempted kidnapping last month.) "Yeah, let me get right on that," he snarks, switching the phone to his other ear. "I’ll just call them up and say, 'Hey, Mr. or Mrs. Jeff's Grandparents! This is Steve Harrington, may I—? Oh. Who's Steve Harrington, you ask? Nobody, sir or ma’am, just the kid who stood by and watched while his teammates gave your grandson a swirlie two years ago, so I'm sure he fucking hates me still for that! Anyway, can I please flirt with your house guest now?'"

Robin's whinnying into the receiver by the time Steve finishes his rant, and he begrudgingly laughs along with her, shaking his head as he stoops to pick up the dust pan.

"Okay," she concedes. "You may have a point."

"Thank you."

"But you still have to do something to make up for this when he gets home! Otherwise, he's going to think you're, like, having a straight boy crisis or something and get all weird."

"I'm not having a 'straight boy crisis,'" Steve rolls his eyes. He's having a bisexual boy crisis — at least, according to the three hour phone call he had with Robin the other night (which was humiliating, by the way; he never thought he'd be quietly crying tears of total confusion while saying the words 'I still likes boobies, though' out loud. Jesus Christ. Sexuality is embarrassing.) "And I already have a grand gesture in mind, anyway."

"Oh?" Robin perks up. "Do tell."

"I was thinking we could, like..." Hmm. It's sounding less grand when he goes to say it out loud. "Well, shit, I don't know. I thought we could go to one of his shows together when you get back, but now that sounds kind of lame?"

“No, that's good! That's perfect, actually. We can get a whole group together to go support him, then he'll see that you're not embarrassed to be seen around him with your friends."

"Wait, was that a concern?" Oh, god. He dumps more glass into the trash can; hisses when a little shard gets his fingertip; sucks the wound into his mouth. "Are you sure it’s not-? I mean, I want him to know I mean it in a romantic way, not just a friendly gesture."

"Well, yeah, obviously. But you can't just go by yourself; his bandmates hate you."

Oh, right. “Yeah.” That would be pretty awkward to loiter in a booth by himself all night while Jeff and Gareth and the other kid glare daggers at him. "Do you think you could get a group together? If I do it…"

"…We'll be hanging out with a group of dorky freshman all night?”

"Rude."

"Accurate."

"You know what? Tell Deb and Bobby they can keep you."

"Ah!" Robin gasps. "You would turn to stone like a troll in the sun without me, and you know it!"

Man, he misses her. "Yeah, I know it." He puts the broom back up on the hook. "When ya comin' home?"

"Soon, I hope. I swear to god if I have to hear Deb and Patty fight over the leftovers one more time—!" She cuts herself off with a strangled noise, and Steve laughs at her plight. "Anyway, yes. I'll ask some friends at school—"

"—Is one of those friends Vickie?"

“I can multi-task; shut up."

"I love you," he smiles.

"Love you, too, dingus.” Her voice dips soft and sincere for just a second; there and gone. “Hey, I have to go, Carrie wants the phone.”

“You have too many relatives.”

“Ugh, I know. Okay. Leaving for real now; can't wait to see you for Operation Woo Your Man!”

"Robin, no-!”

“Got to go byeeeee.”

“We’re not calling it that!” He holds the phone out with both hands so he can yell into the receiver. “Robin? Robin!"

The line's already dead.

—

part 34

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my writing #my fic

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bonny-kookoo · 6 months

Text

Jungkook x Reader/ Yoongi x Jimin

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Cream] 2/2

You're just so sweet, he can't help himself.

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past trauma, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though, just hybrid things (scenting, grooming, biting, licking, scruffing, and more), hurt & comfort

Length: 1.7k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: I hate this chapter so much.

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

When you come out of the shower, you don't bother with clothes- even the towel around you feels too much, any fabric covering you suddenly itchy and uncomfortable. And it's not like you've got something to hide either- he's gonna see you naked at some point anyways.

So you simply throw yourself back into bed, hair still dry since you only wanted to really rinse off the sweat from the night's fever- making Jungkook playfully smack your leg. "Don't throw yourself around like that." He scolds, but you just roll over and sigh, rolling your eyes.

"Did you have fun?" He asks, and you know he can probably still smell your pathetic attempt at trying to release some of the tension building up for you.

It failed- you've passed the threshold, you're no longer able to really.. get off yourself anymore. And it's frustrating.

"No.." you mumble, as he gets up presumably to shower too. He's not leaving you- you trust in that, and from the sounds of it in the bathroom, you're right too- he's just cleaning up, he's still gonna stay.

What you don't expect however is for him to emerge from the bathroom fully nude.

He's entirely unbothered by it, sitting down comfortably on the bed while you're short-circuiting. "We don't have to do anything, you know that, right?" He offers, and you nod after a moment.

"I just feel like.. I don't know." You huff, throwing yourself onto your back in frustration. "It's.. too fast." You explain. "It's.. all the.. thrill will be gone."

"You're worried I won't be interested in you after this?" He wonders, and you shrug, before nodding towards the ceiling. "That's bullshit." He says.

"You say that now cause you're horny." You huff, crossing your arms, cat tail swishing over the bed.

"Nop, still flaccid." He jokes boldly, making you sit up in a scandalized manner, causing him to laugh loudly, eyes sparkling in their crescent shape, cheeks round. "Listen.. things simply work differently for you and me." He explains. "We're not human. We're not Jimin or Yoongi." He offers, and you look down at his knees to not accidentally stare at his junk. "And I'm not like whatever you think I'll be like."

"Prove it then." You challenge, making him smile boyishly. "I'm not joking!" You scold, and he laughs, nodding.

"I know." He agrees. "And that makes me happy." He tells you, making you smile warmly as well.

Because he's right. He's already not what you thought he'd be like.

And it causes your confidence to rise enough for you to move, shed your towel to present yourself bare as well, simply to offer him the same as he offers you.

Yourself. Unfiltered.

And despite the fact that right now, he could do anything he wants with you-

He just reaches out to hug you, and hold you.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

It's funny how he adapts to your rather.. unconventional heat.

He's not interested in sex, because you're not either- you're more so needy for physical comfort, having him close, nesting with him, and occasionally playing around, his hand catching your fluffy tail but never too hard to hurt.

Jimin and Yoongi probably think you're currently soiling the sheets with sweat, and you are- the dog hybrid gently caring for you whenever your body falls into a fever from the confused hormones inside you raging wildly. He'll hold you, open the window so you can cool off a bit, and helps you wash as soon as your temperature regulates again.

And it's clear to you now that, while he's not gaining any sexual gratification from this, he's still satisfying a need of his own.

Because you want him. You like him. You trust him.

You don't fear him, no matter what he does.

He can growl, he can be loud, he can be wild, manhandle you around or playfight over who gets more blanket- you don't ever become scared of him. There's not a single second where you jump back from him, no instinct in your bones to shy back away from him at any point.

You're currently purring, rolling around in nothing but a shirt and panties, while he wears even less, only his underwear covering his most private parts.

Right now, even though you're not actually actively trying to mate, Jungkook would not let neither his owner, nor Jimin anywhere near you. You need to be protected right now, and that's his job- one he takes very seriously.

Especially now that you're both no longer talking at all, no words needed as he runs his hands over your skin, simply offering romantic affection with no underlying goals in mind. And you clearly enjoy it, holding onto his hand as it runs over your cheek, nuzzling into his touch as he moves to hold you again.

He worries, a little. Your waves of fever have become worse and worse every time they happen- and he wonders if he might have to go against his instincts after all, and get help from the other two humans in the neighbouring house.

He doesn't want you to suffer- and if he can't help you, he needs to find someone who can.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You’re shed your shirt you wore earlier, leaving him will full access to your bare body- the only thing the two of you are wearing being standard underwear.

He was definitely right about you owning the probably most cute and yet arousing underwear he could’ve imagined- lace rimmed panties decorated by a little bow and sparkling little charm in the middle. And he also has to admit that your bed is extremely comfortable- already making him a little excited about how to ruin the sheets one day if you’re up for that at any point in the future.

But right now, none of his or your touch has any sexual intentions at all. There’s no heat in your affections- just the need to be close, just the desire to be offered something physical.

You’re slowly easing out of your panicked state too, body apparently deciding that he’s no longer any kind of threat or danger- in fact, you’re actively seeking him now, clinging to him, hands kneading on his body occasionally, while he himself has become a little more bold as well, moving to pull you closer to him, face hiding in the crook of your neck where your scent is strongest. “How’re you feeling?” He asks quietly, and you instantly start to purr at the sound of his voice alone, causing him to laugh.

“I don’t.. Want this to end yet..” You mumble, pulling his arm over your waist to hold you- something he happily does, hand on the small of your pack feeling your soft skin.

“Doesn’t have to.” He shrugs, opening his eyes to look at you. “We can cuddle like this whenever you want.” He offers, and at that, your tail curls, legs caging his in.

“Whenever I want?” You ask, and he smiles, nodding. “What if I always want to?” You wonder. “As soon as you come home from work.. Or when we go to bed.. What if I wanna sleep in the same bed every night?” You demand, and he can’t help but laugh.

“I guess we can swap around every now and then.” He offers. “You can sleep in my bed over at Yoongi’s with me.. And I can sleep here in your bed with you from time to time..” He explains, and you nod.

“But you need more pillows.” You instantly argue. “You almost have none.” You huff, rolling a little onto your back now, his hand reaching out to squeeze one of your tits playfully, making you laugh and turn over entirely to hide from him.

But that’s not how it works for him, as he instantly takes the invitation to sit up and pull you back towards him, playfully biting at your neck, making you laugh loudly as you try and wiggle out of his grip. But he’s got a good hold on you-

And you also don’t really want to get away from him either.

“How about we take a nice long bath now?” He wonders into your neck. “Put the sheets in the wash, put on some clothes. I bet you Jimin is probably worried about you by now.” He tells you, and you shrug.

“He’s got Yoongi.” You huff. “And I got you now.” You turn to look over your shoulder at him. “And you’ll only need me, right?” You ask, and he smiles.

“Of course.” He agrees. “What else could I need other than a true princess?”

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

“There you are!” Jimin beams, instantly hugging you- making you cringe slightly, though you don’t actively pull away from him. “Everything okay now? Are you sure?” He rambles, while Yoongi puts a hand on his partner’s shoulder to calm him down.

“She’s fine, a little drowsy.” Jungkook teases, making your tail swipe from side to side. It’s clear to everyone that you’ve bonded over the almost week you’ve spent together- something having clicked into place it seems like, as you jump towards the kitchen with Jungkook in tow closing the fridge just to scold you playfully for ‘acting like you own the place’.

“She’s.. Really happy.” Jimin hums almost to himself, Yoongi patting his back gently.

“Not a bad thing.” He shrugs. “Get used to it. After all, looks like we’ll have to adjust the housing situation soon.”

“Why?” Jimin asks, almost offended.

“I mean-” Yoongi says, before looking towards the kitchen where you’re currently busy jumping behind Jungkook with your hands on his shoulders while he puts a pot on the stove. “-I personally would like to not accidentally listen in on whatever they’re up to in the future.” He laughs, making Jimin blush a deep red, never having thought about that.

“Oh.” He simply says-

Feeling a bit odd at the realization of slowly having to let you go. ♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x you

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personasintro · 8 months

Text

Mutual Help | #51

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.6k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

Never in a million years would you think you and Jungkook will go to work together. To the same workplace as if you were colleagues. In some way, you kind of are colleagues at the moment, even though you won't be exactly working together.

It definitely has some perks.

For example – you don't have to drive since Jungkook suggested you should go together in one car which makes sense and it is something you were planning to offer anyway. Jungkook's car is more comfortable of course, how can it not be for the money he spent on it, right?

You enjoy the freedom of not having to drive through busy Seoul to get to work. However, you still offer to drive once you see Jungkook yawning as soon as he sits down on the driver seat.

He even has the audacity to snort at your offer. "You driving my car? Nah, I'll pass."

You do feel offended, though you would never purposely try to drive his expensive ass car – too scared to get into an accident or scratch the perfect shiny exterior.

"Asshole," you grumble, "Didn't you offer your car when I got into the accident?" you point out, noticing Jungkook's grin which slightly falters at the mention of your accident. You know he's just teasing you, despite his morning tired state.

"It was a matter of life and death," he remarks, causing you to flick him off. "Sorry, angel. Hate to break it to you but you're not that good of a driver."

Angel... that's new. Even if it's his way of teasing you again, you can't help but feel the little fluttering in the pit of your stomach. It doesn't help that Jungkook has cleaned and dressed up nicely. His outfit is quite simple but knocked the breath out of you as soon as he stepped out of the bathroom, fully ready despite his tired puffy eyes. White button-up with black casual slacks – a total threat to your sanity.

"I am a good driver!" you argue.

Okay, maybe you're not a complete Michael Knight when it comes to driving but you're pretty decent. It took you a while to improve but experience helped a lot.

"You can't compare me to you!"

"I know, I know. I'm just teasing you." Jungkook adds teasingly, met with your annoyed huff as your back meets the car seat frustratedly.

For the rest of the drive, Jungkook takes it as his mission to make you laugh and he blasts old Justin Bieber songs, dramatically singing as you try to keep your laugh at bay.

"You're who I'm thinking of, girl you ain't my runner-up,"

He quickly shoots you a playful wink as you roll your eyes, nudging gently his shoulder as he keeps his eyes on the road.

"Just shut up and drive."

"Oh, that's a good song!"

"Oh god..." you mutter, staring from the window as your facade finally cracks.

Though as Jungkook glances at you, he sees your grin in the reflection and he knows his job is done.

Junho snatches Jungkook from you as soon as the elevator door opens, his nervous figure pacing around the place. His usual self nervous and on the edge now seems to be under control and you think it has something to do with Jungkook. Only because once he spots you and Jungkook, his eyes widening slightly before a welcoming smile stretches on his thin lips as he gives your friend a warm welcome. Not just you, but half of the staff witnessing this moment just gape at him.

Junho likes to kiss ass to everyone who works above him, especially any partners but you would never expect him to be so warm towards a photographer. It only proves he really loves Jungkook's work and is more than happy to have him on this project. So much, that he trusted Jungkook's offer of involving someone whose work he hasn't seen at all. Which reminds you Ester should be here soon, so she and Jungkook can get to work.

You assume once Junho is done kissing Jungkook's ass, he is leading him to the studio where they should go over the work once again before the models are prepared to have photoshoots.

There are many people, strangers who work for other companies, most of them make-up artists, agents. You've been here for three minutes and it's already looking hectic.

"Well, fuck me."

Turning sideways, you spot Yoongi glancing at retrieving figures of your boss and your best friend, similarly looking taken aback.

"Yeah, I know." you mutter, seeing him holding a stack of papers, wearing a gray suit.

"Asshole, we work for him for years and do most of the job and he never treats us like that."

You snort, not surprised by Yoongi's annoyance and irritation showing because in a way, you understand him. Junho can be very hard on all of you and he doesn't exactly treat you friendly, but he's not a bad boss. You're sure there are far worse bosses out there than just a simple man who's too greedy and ambitious for his own good.

"Shh, somebody is going to hear you." you scold him, mouth opening as soon as he thrusts the papers into your arms causing you to almost drop them. You glare at him but he's not even looking at you, sighing as Junho's figure disappears before he glances back at you.

"Like I give a fuck. Junho needs me, he's not gonna do a shit."

"You're too confident. Junho might need all of us," Yoongi rolls his eyes, "But he's got a temper."

"It would be his loss."

He's right about that but you don't tell him that.

"Why did you give me these papers?"

"Wake up, sunshine. You're at your work right now, chop chop."

And he simply walks away with no looking back which leaves your mouth hanging open, and you choke on the fit of curses that want to leave your mouth but you already hear your name being called, one of your colleagues rushing to you as they need your help.

Great. You haven't even got the chance to put your bag away. Fucking Min Yoongi and fucking Mondays.

Ester arrives a few minutes after Jungkook. He had to laugh at her petrified face when he politely excused himself to Junho, so he can help her get into the building since she doesn't know her way. It's enough she has to be nervous which only confirms once Junho so eagerly excuses him, leaving a few coworkers that are around completely speechless.

"Am I late? You said eight, right?" she asks him as soon as Jungkook holds the door for her to come in, chuckling at her anxious state.

"No, you're good and I did. I came a little early," he assures her and sees the sigh of relief she lets out, "Besides everything is just getting ready, well the final preparations but Junho, the boss I was talking you about," he says, momentarily stopping to make a space for people leaving the elevator before they both make their way in.

He pushes the button, turning to her as he gives her a comforting smile which she tries to return.

"He is gonna go over the things again with us and then we should get to work. We have a long day ahead of us."

She nods, not giving any sort of other reaction – her nerves getting the best of her.

Meanwhile you spot Ester and Jungkook coming in, getting to work right after – you're already swallowed by your own responsibilities and not having time for anything else.

Despite the day's business, it feels as if it's dragging painfully slowly. You don't get to see Jungkook in action, somehow he's always just a blur in the background and you're not phased even in the slightest when you catch a glimpse of him, doing a great work with models. He's a true leader, involved just as much as he can be as he naturally communicates with the models and Ester on the side, who seems to be in her natural habitat.

You don't know any other photographer besides your best friend but seeing how two of them work well together, both of them understanding each other right away makes you think they have a lot in common when it comes to photography. They joke a little, Jungkook helps her with her camera once it seems as if there's a little problem in the setting as he sorts it out for her – all of this you experience in a span of five minutes watching from the distance, some of your coworkers beside you as you wait for the shoot to end. Well, a part of the shoot anyway.

"He's doing a great job, isn't he?"

You almost flinch at the sudden presence of another body next to you, looking at Benjamin who hands you a cup of coffee. You see Lauren holding one of those as well, shooting him a last appreciative smile before she focuses on the tablet in her hands.

"Thank you,"

You thank him, not having the heart to decline his attentive gesture. You don't like to get through the day drinking coffee, it bites you back in the night as it follows with the hassle of not being able to fall asleep. But it's soon lunchtime and you haven't had the time to just sit down, even if it's for five minutes so you gladly take the cup from the coffee machine and take a cautious sip.

"You're like the fifth person who told that in a span of ten minutes." you chuckle causing him to do the same as he lightly shrugs.

"It's true, I had to be there for a few minutes and seriously, he's amazing. You must be proud of him."

There's nothing but sweetness and tenderness in his raspy voice and soft expression and you have to look away to try and shoo away the approaching guilt, still feeling like an idiot for lying to him. To be fair, he hasn't tried anything since then but still remained sweet and friendly. Jungkook is not your real boyfriend but he doesn't know that and ever since he heard the revelation, it's obvious he backed away. You're glad he's still the sweet guy you met – unfortunately, it makes it even worse for your guilt and the little white lie.

"I am," you respond, cutting your thoughts off before you can feel like a total loser.

No lies need to be told, not when it comes to Jungkook's talent and you being proud of him. You remember the beginning of his photography career. He has always been doing good, but it took a lot of courage to get a freelancer career right after college, praying he will have enough clients to pay his bills. In the end, it wasn't the smoothest start but he's nifty and ambitious which helped a lot in this journey.

Despite his parents voicing out their concern for his son, not that they didn't believe in him but their concerns weren't helping him to smooth his own concerns of the future, he has managed to pull it off.

"Photography is his passion." you add softly, not really sure why you just shared that because you're not sure if Benjamin even cares but he responds with one of his charming smiles.

You continue to watch the scene happening in the distance, noticing the tall model you remember from the company's party standing now alone, exposing her skin and legs to everyone's eyes. She's not phased about it, how can she? This is her job and she's used to it, having done a good amount of photoshoots in her lifetime. You know you couldn't just stand there in a bikini, revealing the curve of your ass and most of your ass-cheeks exposed to dozens of men. Nobody in your company is disrespectful and just as she's used to the eyes, you all are used to seeing models. It doesn't matter what gender.

Her blond hair is curled into big beachy waves, breasts pushed up in the bikini bra as she professionally poses for Jungkook's camera. He chats with her throughout it, both of them trying to figure out the new positions and concepts together as they share a laugh together before returning back to work.

There are other models watching them, both female and male as the women seem equally attracted to Jungkook, despite there being male models right next to them.

All the men models are handsome, looking almost unreal even from the distance where you are standing. All of them are captivating and interesting looking in their own way, which makes them special and you know your company has done a good job at picking them up. You're not sure you've seen so many abs in your life like you're experiencing right now – even though most of them have thin robes draped over their shoulders.

Despite it all, you stare back at Jungkook and it's like no one competes with him. It's not even about him having an equally amazing body than the male models here. It's just him and for a split second you panic. You know you're attracted to him, that much is clear because you wouldn't be able to let your new deal keep going on for this long. But you're scared. So you hide your distress behind the plastic cup as you take a few sips of the coffee, letting more caffeine into your body.

"Don't do that."

Turning to Benjamin, you're met with his soft gaze once again and for a moment you think you see an amused grin spreading on his plump lips.

"Do what?"

"Well, at least I hope you're not comparing yourself to them." he says, pointing his head towards the models direction as you glance at them, met with the perfect skinny bodies and shiny skin while his eyes stay on your face, watching you attentively.

"I--no, I'm not." you assure him, but it comes out unsurely and way less honest than you intended.

Working here, you think almost every woman gets through the whole insecurity process at least once. Especially if you're met with gorgeous women on a daily basis but it comes out of inner insecurities in the first place. Eventually, if you're in a happy place with yourself, embracing your own beauty, it's not something you beat yourself over or getting on a radical diet, so you can even come close to them.

You're not envious and jealous, not at all. There are times when a woman can get insecure, or compare herself with literal models and by "a woman" you include yourself too. You think it's only natural in an environment like this but you're happy with yourself and you hope every single coworker of yours is too.

"Good, because you're pretty," he says, a serious tone laced with softness as you stare at him with wide eyes, not expecting the compliment but honesty too. "Ah, sorry have I crossed a line? I didn't mean it--I wasn't meant to be disrespectful towards your boyfriend. I just saw you looking at them and I thought--Ahhh, I'm sorry." he rambles as you watch him with your mouth agape before you let out a chuckle and shake your head.

"You aren't disrespectful," you assure him, still seeing the panic in his light eyes. "Thanks for the compliment."

He lets out a breathy laugh, "I hope I didn't come off as if I'm coming onto you or something. I know you're in a relationship,"

Your features turn guilt for a second and you know he catches the change, though he most likely mistakes it for sadness rather than guilt.

"I'm not like that!" he quickly adds and you laugh, shaking your head.

"Benjamin, please breathe," you continue to laugh silently, "I know. You're very sweet, thank you."

"Good, I don't want to be on bad terms with your boyfriend. He seems like he can throw a punch or two." he jokes, but there's a little fear and seriousness in his voice which makes you giggle.

"He can," you muse but quickly add, "But don't worry about him. He wouldn't punch you for calling me pretty, not that he has to know."

You give him an assurance that you won't snitch on him to "your boyfriend", even though it's not a big deal at all. Even if you had a boyfriend and someone else called you pretty, it doesn't mean they're coming onto you. And you appreciate Benjamin's concern, knowing he really didn't mean to come off as pushy or invading in any way.

"Good, good..." Benjamin sighs in relief, giving you a grin. "Who's the other photographer? Is she from our company?" He changes the topic.

"No, actually. She is Jungkook's friend."

Benjamin opens his mouth, an audible "Oh" leaving his mouth before another voice reaches your ears.

"Admiring your boyfriend, I see?"

And just like that, your own grin drops and you turn around finding Yoongi making his way to you. Can he be any more suspicious? He looks amused as fuck, finding his little joke (which is unknown to Benjamin) a little bit too funny and your expression of annoyance even more.

"No. I'm doing my job which can't be said about you." you remark back, watching his grin stretch even more which annoys you to the core while Benjamin stares confusingly at you and him, sensing the tension.

It's not like he is new to it but he's probably confused why you still bicker at almost every chance.

"Oh, admiring your boyfriend is your job?" he teases, or more like annoys the shit out of you as you bite your tongue. "Besides, I've been doing my and your job."

"What do you mean?"

"They're looking for you in the office. You're supposed to sort out finances with the team."

"No, I am not. I'm supposed to be here for a while until--"

"Doesn't matter," You're rudely cut off by him as he waves you off. "Get your ass there. You're lucky Junho isn't there and is busy admiring your boyfriend."

"Careful, you sound jealous, Min." you sing out, gulping down the rest of the cold coffee now before you bin it.

Brushing past Yoongi, you pat his shoulder just for the right measure to piss him off and seeing him narrowing his eyes at you annoyingly, you know you've succeeded. Throwing a wave to Benjamin, you leave the two of them there as you're on your way to find the fuck out what you have to do with finances.

The next time you see Jungkook is after lunchtime, he's joined with Junho and a few other people including Natalie, the main star of today's project and Ester. You heard Junho invited some of them to lunch outside, which threw you off a little considering he's been a nervous wreck about this project and you pictured him showing his usual temper. But at the same time, it makes sense he's suddenly a different man, trying to impress everyone he invited to lunch.

He never did that with any of his employees – not that most of you would go anyway, maybe strictly out of politeness and a fear of possibly pissing him off.

You've around five minutes to get back to work, meeting Jungkook's gaze across the room as he makes his way over to you, leaving the partners and agents alone as everyone is going their own way.

There has been barely any time to chat with him, or just make sure everything's good even though you know Jungkook can take care of himself and everyone is swooning over him. So once you're met with a gentle smile of his, you reciprocate it.

"Hey, where were you? I thought you'd join us for lunch." he says, stopping right in front of you.

"I couldn't, besides Junho didn't invite us and we still had some work to do." you explain.

By work you don't mean anything too important, just to make sure everything's ready on the next set so you can go home on time.

Jungkook's eyes narrow for a moment, an unpleasant look making its way on his face as he licks his lips. "Have you eaten?"

"Uhh, yeah. There is a buffet prepared for all of you but Benjamin actually ordered us a delivery."

You'd be completely fine eating toast or something light for lunch, as long as you get to eat something and won't stay hungry. Luckily Benjamin was kind enough to take it upon himself to prepare food for all of you, the people that were left behind in the company. Though, to be completely fair you were free to go eat out too, it's not like you have forbidden to do so, but all of you know it wouldn't be convenient today.

"You could've just told me." Jungkook says, sound tilting close to the actual scolding which makes you let out a breathy chuckle.

"Told you what?"

"Well, I could've taken you for lunch. I thought you guys would join us, I didn't know.... If I knew you weren't invited I'd just eat with you."

You smile at his concern, shaking your head lightly while Jungkook frowns even more. "It's fine," you laugh a little, "You can't exactly decline their invitation. It's only polite for you to go. It's no big deal."

"No, it's not... If I just knew..." he mumbles, "I'd decline them anyway."

Now that makes you laugh and Jungkook's lips twitch as he tries to hide a grin.

"What? I don't care if I'm invited or not, or what's polite or not."

"You're lucky Junho seems to like you a lot."

Jungkook shrugs, a cocky expression taking over his handsome face. "What can I say..."

"Don't say anything," you joke, "How's Ester doing?"

"She's actually very good. I knew she'd do a good job." he answers.

Nothing else can be said because Junho ushers everyone to get back to work. Jungkook sighs and gives you one last dreadful look which makes you giggle as he walks away.

The rest of the week goes exactly the same. You and Jungkook go to work together but you separate as soon as you enter the building, this time around Jungkook makes sure to take you out for lunch and Ester joins you, since she doesn't know many people and you wouldn't want her to be left alone when Jungkook is the only person who she knows the most. She actually comes out of her shell and gushes over this opportunity, thanking your friend a few times.

She's sweet, kind and friendly. In a way she reminds you of someone, she's very much similar to her – personality wise and you wonder if Jungkook sees it the same way.

After lunch, you both go doing your job and don't interact with each other (besides the soft smiles whenever your eyes meet) until it's time to go home. You catch up on the way to Jungkook's apartment, get ready to go to bed before you repeat the same process every day.

It's Friday now and you successfully finished this week with a great outcome that's seen for now. After working ten hours of being constantly on your feet and handling stuff, you miss the softness of your bed and Jungkook's huge expensive shower and you have to control yourself not to look grumpy in this nice bar Junho invited some of you to. Just the close circle of his employees and agents from the other company, to apparently celebrate this week.

You weren't as lucky as Yoongi who slipped away through the doors before another word could be uttered. The idiot is probably at home by now, or doing whatever you want while you're stuck in this bar, listening to Junho bragging about useless things.

Most people that were invited you don't know personally, nor you've a close relationship with or any at this point. Excluding Jungkook who couldn't say no because your boss insisted. Even Natalie has been invited, which doesn't surprise you as she charms everyone with her own charms around the table.

She's taking most of Jungkook's attention, the man having a casual conversation with her while you sit next to him like a grumpy cat, swirling your drink. Non-alcoholic drink to be precise and you already regret your decision not to drink tonight.

It's boring and not even when Jungkook tries to keep you entertained whenever he can, it doesn't help much.

You spend the time going through the entire week, lucky there was no drama happening regarding Yoongi or Benjamin. The last time Yoongi and Jungkook interacted with each other, your friend was ready to punch your coworker. Luckily, they never bumped into each other. And Benjamin? He has never questioned you about your relationship with Jungkook, probably thinking you're keeping it professional in the work which you would do either way – with or without a boyfriend. It ultimately made it easier with Ester as well, since she knows you and Jungkook are friends and you're glad it hasn't reached her eyes that you're "dating" Jungkook all of a sudden.

"You wanna go home?" Jungkook asks once he leans in your direction, close to almost brushing his lips against your ear as his scent fills your nostrils.

You've been here for only an hour but if anyone even talks to you, it's just boring conversation that leads nowhere. Damn, you really feel antisocial right now.

"Not if you don't want to," you tell him, knowing you both came here by his car. "I can just take a cab." You change your mind as Jungkook gives you a look.

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffs gently, "I'll finish the drink and we can go. It's boring anyway." he says the last sentence with a whisper, so nobody else can hear him which makes you bite back a laugh.

Is he lying? He looked like he's having a good time. He talked the most amongst the group which can't be said about you.

"Junho has offered me a job in the company."

Your brows lift up in surprise, Jungkook driving you both home as he lowers the volume of the music that's been pleasantly playing in the background.

"Oh."

"Yeah..."

You had a photographer that used to be employed in the company, but Junho decided to fire him because he "wasn't good enough". Of course you're no professional but you think he had the job done, so him getting fired surprised everyone at that time. That's why your boss stuck to finding a different photographer for each project, instead of employing someone.

"What did you tell him?" you ask.

"That I'd think about it."

"And will you?"

"I don't know," Jungkook chuckles, "It'd be less work for me. It's simpler than being a freelancer and having to sort everything out by myself. But I don't think it'd be a good idea regardless."

"Why not?" you frown.

As much as you complain sometimes about your job, you do like it and you'd be bummed out if you were fired for some reason.

"First of all, I like the fact I'm my own boss. I choose what I want to work on. Besides, I don't think it'd be a good idea if we worked together," he explains, briefly glancing at you to notice your curious gaze but before you can open your mouth, he jumps to explain further. "Friends working together is never a good idea."

"Well, technically we wouldn't work together. I don't really interact with photographers a lot, somebody else does."

"Well yeah, but I wouldn't want to come into your own workplace. That's your place."

"I'm pretty sure it doesn't work like that," you chuckle, "But I understand what you mean."

You find it sweet that he puts you first, even though you don't see a problem with him working at your company. If that's what he wants.

"Me and Jimin worked together."

"Yeah but you met there. You weren't already best friends. That's different. And you only did an internship there."

"Hm, I guess you're right." you hum.

"Anyway, I don't think I'm gonna take it. I didn't want to tell him straight away to look impolite or inappreciative."

"Just so you know, I wouldn't mind whatever you decide on." you assure him and the corner of his lips lifts up.

A minute of silence follows until Jungkook stops at the red light, drumming his tattooed fingers against the steering wheel.

"I'm gonna meet up with Hoseok."

Jungkook manages to shock you a second time within the past ten minutes but this time, your head snaps to his direction as he glances at you, a serious expression on his face.

You know he mentioned talking to him recently, but to be honest you completely forgot about that conversation and you'd never thought of bringing it up to him. That's completely his decision if he wants to talk to Hoseok. You know Jungkook deals with a lot of stuff that's eating him alive, no matter how better he seems to be and assures you he is fine. The betrayal he still feels from Hoseok's action is very fresh but there's at least the slightest amount of understanding, at least you hope so judging from your last conversation you had with him about this topic.

"That's great, Kook," you say, not really sure what to say – due to your shock and wondering what's the right thing to say. You don't want him to doubt his decision and you're glad he is at least moving on. "Did you wait the entire evening to drop all this information on me?" you joke and actually make him laugh as he drives off once the light turns green.

"Wanted to have you all to myself before I do," he jokes and you ignore the set of butterflies his words cause you. "I was thinking about it a lot... I can't promise how our conversation will turn out because I'm still hurt, and I don't think it's gonna go away any time soon... but, I'm willing to talk to him. So I texted him today before I could chicken out because I know I would."

"It's not gonna be easy to hear him out, you're still hurt. But just try to see his perspective a little," you advise him carefully while he stays silent, "However your conversation goes, remember you tried your best."

"Yeah." he exhales a sigh, nibbling on his bottom lip as he brushes his thumb across it.

He knows he has to talk to Hoseok either way before it's too late. He needs to deal with this while it's fresh.

The place they agreed to meet is Hoseok's apartment. At first, Jungkook was thinking about meeting him in a public place because the last time Hoseok was in his apartment, it didn't end well. So many things were left shattered that day. He is more calm now but regardless of that, a public place is not suitable for such a conversation they're about to have.

When Hoseok offered to meet at his place, he agreed. The conversation simple and blunt, straight to the point and it's ridiculous how awkward and tense it seemed even through the stupid texts.

For fuck sake, he even woke up early to have a morning jog just to come back and find you already preparing for your day with Maya. He has barely eaten, too distracted to properly function and with each mile he gets to the final destination, he feels his stomach in knots.

However, he walks to his door with utter confidence knowing he has an upper hand in this. And meeting Hoseok's brown soft eyes full of sadness and regret makes him actually soften. But then he is reminded of what he has done to him and if it weren't enough, the pictures that fill his apartment – pictures of his friends and among them Kiko – he is reminded he is in this position because of her.

Not only she ruined their relationship and possible future, she has also managed to ruin his friendship with Hoseok. A friend he has had for years.

But is he selfish to put all the blame onto her? Clearly, it wasn't his fault what happened. It does feel bitter to know she got involved with more people and he wants to be so mad at her. A part of him still is. But then he looks at her wide smile he fell in love with and tries to think what pain she went through alone. Even though she has done it voluntarily, it still doesn't feel better to know she was in pain. Still is.

"Do you want something to drink? Water, juice or I can make you a drink?" Hoseok asks once the awkward greeting is over, motioning Jungkook to sit down on his couch as he listens and peels away his eyes from the memories in a form of framed pictures.

"Water is fine."

He drove here and even though he could easily drink and call a cab, it's better to stay away from alcohol. Not that he is scared to flip out or something because Jungkook isn't the type to turn aggressive if drinking, but it tends to strengthen emotions. He needs to have a clear mind for this.

"Sure, let me get that for you and then we can talk." he offers him a crooked smile and Jungkook knows it's just a mask to hide his own nervosity.

Hoseok has always been collected, the fun one in the group alongside Taehyung but he could still be stern and serious – definitely more than Taehyung. But he has never seen him like this but it only makes sense. Hoseok has never ruined a friendship with anyone. He is friends with anyone. Well, if he doesn't count the awkward interactions you had with him.

He comes back within a minute, placing the glass in front of Jungkook as he thanks him but doesn't reach for it just yet. Though his throat starts to feel dry, he feels it tightening as he's not sure how to start.

"I'm sorry," Hoseok blurts out suddenly, "I know I said it so many times by now but I can't look you in the eyes without saying it again. It feels awful to feel this tension and awkwardness between us, I know it's my fault..."

"No, it's not..." Jungkook mutters, ignoring the subtle surprise on Hoseok's face as he nervously brushes through his dark hair, staring at the younger. "At least not entirely,"

Hoseok's face drops but he nods in understatement.

"I was so mad at you. I felt betrayed by my own friend and having to come to terms with what happened--it's still hard and it's not easy but I think I'm getting better at understanding you and... her,"

Hoseok's features turn soft, not daring to say a word. Not yet at least.

"It sucks because I'm still mad, a part of me is and I don't think it's gonna go away any time soon," he repeats the words he said to you in his car yesterday, "But Y/N made me think about you more... well at least to try and see things from your perspective as she would say. She actually made us an example,"

He chuckles at the memory.

"And I understood if Y/N came up to me and asked me--asked me what Kiko asked you as her best friend. I would do it in a heartbeat. I would be there for her and keep it a secret because I respect her that much. I think it would be so fucking hard to keep such a heartbreaking secret, but I would do it for her. I guess I was selfish to see things from only my perspective. I was too consumed by the anger and heartbreak."

He hates how Hoseok gives him a pitiful look. He hates when people pity him and that's when he usually chooses not to be vulnerable in front of anyone. He deals with his stuff alone

"And it's totally understandable, Kook," Hoseok says slowly and softly, "I can't imagine what you had to go through and I hate myself for not telling you anything since I knew the truth from day one."

"I know it wasn't easy for you either," Jungkook tells him, finally having the courage to look back into his brown eyes. "I think it would be worse if you actually didn't feel bad." he tries to joke and it helps to soothe out the tension in the room, as Hoseok chuckles but it comes out dryly.

"Ever since I've known," Hoseok says hesitantly, eyes glancing at Jungkook as the younger slowly nods at him to silently tell him it's fine to be honest and open. Even if it might hurt him. "I told her to tell you. She even told me she regrets telling me and dragging me into this. But I'm glad she did, only because she was alone. I know she chose it and I know you're the best thing that happened to her, I encouraged her to tell you before it's too late. To talk to you before she–"

He sets his lips into a tight line as Jungkook gives him a saddened nod, knowing what he is referring to.

"I told her you'd take care of them. I told her even if she decided she doesn't--whatever she decided, you would be there for her every step of the way. But she was so stubborn, she wouldn't listen to me and she panicked. Before she knew, it was too late. When she broke up with you--I scolded her for not telling you the truth but she told me it will hurt you even more than the lie,"

He knows, she told him and it's still hurtful to hear this thing all over again.

"But she put your well-being first. And then you guys got together again and I still told her to tell you because one way or another, you will find out and then she will lose you. I think that intimidated her the most and she caught herself into this web of lies. She loved you so much that the thought of losing you again scared the shit out of her. She regretted her decision and--I know you probably don't want to hear about her or hear her side because what she did–-it was her decision and she had the right to do so. But she still hurt you... a lot."

"No, it's fine. I think I need to hear all of it to be able to fully move on." Jungkook swallows, hearing his heart cracking but something tells him he really needs to hear all of it.

"She started going to therapy shortly after..." he motions with his hands, still not able to say it out loud because it is too painful. For him as well. "She wasn't doing well, Kook. I know you probably don't care–"

"I do," he cuts him off gently, "I don't like the thought of her suffering, despite all."

"Because you have the biggest heart," Hoseok says immediately, cringing at his words which makes both men chuckle a little. "You really do."

"I just don't get it... we were doing so fine. We talked about our future. So what if it happened way sooner than we planned? She wasn't planning to break up with me. Does she think we couldn't be a family? Does she think we couldn't raise a child together? As a father of the child, I had the right to at least know that she is pregnant. Fuck, we had sex just a few days before she broke up with me. Knowing she was pregnant at that time--"

"Nobody would change her mind. Not even you, Jungkook," Hoseok reminds him softly, "I know you think you would... but she was too stubborn. She was depressed and sure of her decision. It backfired and she is gonna live it for the rest of her life. She lost you for good."

Jungkook swallows, wanting to reach for the stupid glass of water but he doesn't want to look weaker than he already is.

"How--How is she?" he asks carefully. Tone perfectly slow and wary, he's not sure if he wants to hear about her but a part of him wants to know.

He hasn't seen her and nobody talked to her in front of him, which is understandable and he knows it was better that way.

"She's in Japan at the moment," Hoseok smiles sadly, "She is with her family and needs to heal. It fucked her up a lot. I think even more because she blames herself knowing it's all on her."

"I...I'm sorry to hear that."

He really is. No matter what happened between them, it's not easy to hear how much she is suffering. He doesn't want her to suffer for the rest of her life. He's not that bitter and bad to actually wish that.

"She will be better," Hoseok says, though Jungkook is not sure if he means it or tries to persuade himself, or both of them. "At first she tried to hide her true emotions, she thought I couldn't see she's faking it... it always ended up with her losing it. It would take hours to calm her down."

"I'm... I'm glad she had you." he says, knowing he wouldn't be able to be that person to her.

Or maybe he could but he's not sure if he was capable, considering his own heartbreak and demons.

"You were the one she wanted," Hoseok admits softly, "But nobody would ask you of that. She really hates herself for hurting you."

"I know," Jungkook sighs, "I don't want her to hate herself."

"Maybe you could tell her that? Maybe in the future? I know it's a lot to ask and I don't want to make it seem as if I'm pressuring you. You've got every right not to see her anymore because I know how much that must hurt. I think you both aren't ready to see each other and most importantly, talk. But maybe the right way to heal is to heal each other?" he asks unsurely.

He definitely doesn't want to push Jungkook's buttons, he already appreciates him being here and this conversation going smoothly, even though it's sad and heartbreaking all over again.

"Maybe," he mumbles, "I'm healing slowly but I guess you're right. I'm not ready though. It still hurts. I can't help but think what if... and all that. I imagine what my life would look like if she didn't... but I guess it happened for a reason?"

"Yeah," he nods slowly and gives him a saddened smile, "Maybe you just weren't meant to be for each other."

"I'm not sure if I believe that," Jungkook frowns, "We loved each other. If she said the truth, things could be different. I wouldn't leave her no matter what."

"Of course, I don't doubt your love," Hoseok reminds him, "I'm sure if things were different, you'd still be together. But I'm glad you're healing. I'm really sorry for what you had to go through. I wish I could change it."

"Maybe it happened for a reason," Jungkook shrugs, though he is still not sure if this is his fate. "I'll have to live either way."

"You look well." Hoseok tells him, searching Jungkook's face. He doesn't look as broken as he once did.

The memory of Jungkook's indescribable face when they last talked together still haunts him to this day. It made his guilt even bigger each time he thought about it.

"Y/N helped me a lot. So did Taehyung and Jimin..." he explains silently. "She made me see things that would take me way longer to realize."

Hoseok smiles and a few moments of silence follows as Jungkook stares at his intertwined fingers.

"Hobi," Jungkook calls out softly to his friend, Hoseok's eyes sparkling at the nickname as a relief washes through him. "I'm sorry for almost punching you."

"No, please, it's alright. I get it."

"No, I was aggressive. If Y/N didn't get between us, I would have punched you. I really wanted to."

"Do you want to punch me now?" He jokes and makes Jungkook's mouth twitch as a playful gaze washes over his eyes before he slowly shakes his head.

"No."

"Good, it would definitely hurt like hell," he chuckles, "But yeah. It was crazy of her to get between us. I told her she shouldn't have done that when I was leaving."

"God, if I punched her accidentally I would've never forgiven myself,"

If that happened, he knows it would be technically your fault because who the fuck gets between two men that are about to fight? Well, between a man who's about to punch the other one.

"She saved the day, though. Didn't she?" Jungkook cracks a smile as Hoseok laughs.

"Yeah, and my face too. Remind me to thank her later."

"I will." he laughs and the air suddenly feels lighter than before. It's still a little awkward but as he stares at Hoseok's joyful face, or at least way more relaxed than he looked in the beginning, he feels relief.

"We are good, yeah?" Hoseok asks unsurely, suddenly turning nervous again as Jungkook stares at him for a second.

And then his lips stretch into the slightest smile, unspoken forgiveness lingering in Jungkook's big and dark eyes. "Yes. We will be."

Once Hoseok stretches his hand to him, Jungkook takes it and is surprised when Hoseok gives him a crushing hug.

"Don't overdo it." Jungkook jokes, slapping Hoseok on his back as he pulls away with no regrets.

Maya looks beautiful in every dress she tries. It does make you emotional to see her in her possible wedding dress, and you have a hard time not to tear up. It's definitely the champagne's fault the woman that works in the shop gives you.

You've lost count how many dresses she has tried so far, each of them unique and beautiful in their own pretty way. Maya has no idea what style to go for, so she picked various styles and has managed to look good in each of them.

You're enjoying this, not only the champagne with a strawberry in it, but it's something new and it's safe to say you've never been in a wedding salon to be a part of the process of picking a wedding dress with your friend. It does distract you from the thoughts of how Jungkook is doing. You do check your phone whenever Maya is in the fitting room.

You don't know what you expect. A message of Jungkook losing it again? A message that everything went well? You know meeting Hoseok is a big deal for him, regardless of how he tried to hide it this morning.

"Crap, there's not enough time. Can you try the dress for me?" Maya pulls you out of your thoughts, your eyes directed on the wedding dress she's wearing at the moment once the woman informs you there's another client coming soon.

It's the last piece Maya has to try, the sleek dress hanging on the hanger for her to try. Just getting out of each dress is taking a lot of time and you think you've got enough time. Apparently you don't and you can already see the stress on Maya's face. This is a big deal for her and this process does make her feel nervous, because she wants everything to be perfect. Even though she tries to look carefree and relaxed.

"Me?"

"Yeah, there's not enough time for me to try it." she whines, sending a glare to the door where the woman working in this salon disappeared. Well, it's not her fault Maya chose too many dresses to try in a span of two hours.

"But our bodies are different," you remind her, "It's gonna look different on me than on you."

"I just need to see how they look on the body. I don't really care whose body it is."

"Oh, okay." There's not enough time to think this through and you stand up, wiping your palms against your jeans as you walk towards the white dress.

The woman comes back from the door, seeing you grabbing the dress as she rushes to you and takes it from your hands to help you. "Let me help you," she smiles kindly, "Are you trying it for your friend?"

"Uhh, yes." you smile nervously and let her lead you to the fitting room.

She helps you to put them on and surprisingly, they fit amazingly. You'd still need a pair of heels because the dress is too long. You walk out of the fitting room, chuckling at yourself.

"Yah, I'm not sure."

Maya looks in your direction, hopping off the circled stair which is placed for brides to stand to see the dress more clearly, since the mirrors surround one side.

"Wow," she lets out, grinning ear to ear. "Don't do this to me girl. You'd be a prettier bride than me."

"Oh, please." you roll your eyes at Maya as she helps you to step on her previous spot.

It's the moment when you turn around to fully look at your reflection under the bright lights that your mouth falls open. Your hair is down, the soft waves you made yourself in the morning actually make you look less casual with this dress on. It's got blouson sleeves, the skirt thin but flowy. It looks like a dress for a princess. You feel like a princess and you can't stop looking at yourself.

"God, you're so beautiful," Maya whines next to you, "I love the dress. How you feelin'?"

"Weird?" you chuckle, "I've never tried a wedding dress before. Obviously." you snort at yourself.

"The dress suits you," the woman joins your conversation, complimenting you as well as your cheeks heat up at their compliments and eyes widened in awe. "You look like a princess."

"I want to look like a queen at my wedding." you joke as both of them giggle with you.

"Let me take a picture," Maya says and hands you your phone to unlock it for her since you've been taking her pictures on your phone, so she can decide on her choice later.

She said like ten times on each dress that "It's the one" and all of them are beautiful, so deciding will be hard for her.

You hand her the phone back and pose for her, even throwing a peace sign as a joke as you laugh together. The owner of the salon, whose name you unfortunately forgot when she introduced you, takes a picture of you two before you have to rush to get out of the dresses so the other client doesn't have to wait once she gets here.

Just as you thank the owner, grabbing your stuff, the other client arrives just in time as you get out of the salon.

"Fuck, it's gonna be so hard to choose." Maya complains but the happiness on her face is clear as the day. "This was so fun. Thank you for coming with me."

"Don't mention it, it was so much fun," you tell her, letting her intertwine your arms together. "Here, let's get an ice-cream and look at the pictures!"

She doesn't refuse, both of you stuffing your face. The entire dress is trying to make both of you hungry.

Once Maya goes to the bathroom later on, you check your phone to see no notifications. You open the chat with Jungkook and jokingly send him a picture of you trying on the dress. You'd show him later anyway but you do want to ask him how's it going.

You're about to lock your phone, thinking he's not going to respond right away and there's a chance he is still talking to Hoseok. Surprisingly, he replies right after you lock your phone.

Kook: 😳

You snort at the emoji, thumb hovering over the screen before another message pops up.

Kook: are you trying to tell me something?

"🙄 what?? No compliments?"

Kook: are you getting secretly married?

"Lol yes"

Kook: who's the lucky guy?

"Not you 😜"

Kook: ouch and here I thought we said we'll get married together if we are not married by the age of 40

"I guess you aren't that lucky then"

"They told me I look like a princess 😎"

Kook: you do

You unawarely bite your lower lip as you stare at his text, wondering what the tone of it is. Deciding that you're not sure what to reply next, because all of this is just a joke, you start typing.

"How's it going with Hoseok?"

Kook: great actually

Kook: I'll tell you at home

Kook: see you until then princess ;)

You send him an emoji of rolling eyes, knowing he must be cackling behind the screen. Putting away your phone, you smile at approaching Maya as you fall into another friendly conversation as soon as she sits down.

Jungkook is in the shower when you come back, the day with Maya dragging longer since you decided to go for a walk and then have a late lunch together before you parted ways. She still hasn't decided on her dress but she still has some time, a few weeks or months. Nobody expects her to choose one on the first day.

You change into more comfortable clothes, grabbing yourself a glass of lemonade when Jungkook joins you in the kitchen.

"What's up, princess?" he teases, greeting you once you turn around to spot him wearing his sweatpants only, hair wet from the shower. He is doing this on purpose, doesn't he?

Not letting yourself to look too affected for various reasons, you roll your eyes at his teasing. "Keep teasing."

"Or what?" he presses, a scent of shower gel and shaving cream filling the kitchen as he leans against the kitchen island, smirking at you.

You clench your jaw, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your sweatpants. "How did it go with Hoseok? Show me your hands."

He rolls his eyes, chuckling a little. "Good, actually," he responds, shaking himself out of the amused mood as he turns serious. "We talked a lot. I'm able to understand him more but... yeah, I think it's going in the right direction."

"That sounds great, I'm glad." you smile and Jungkook returns it.

"We hung out for a little longer and then I went to work out to process it. I feel... surprisingly lighter and more relaxed."

"He is your friend, I can imagine you want to have him in your life."

"Yeah..." he mumbles in thought before he glances up just as you drink the lemonade. "How was your day with Maya? What's with the wedding dress?"

You laugh, "We were running out of time, so Maya asked me to try the dress for her. All the dresses were so beautiful, Kook. So many various styles and materials."

"You had fun, I see."

"I did."

"Did she pick one?"

"No, there were too many and she still has time to decide. We took a picture of each dress, so she has the pictures to choose from. But the prices, oof."

"Isn't she renting the dress?"

"She is, but it's still expensive. We talked about her wedding plans and the money they're about to put in it, fuck. I mean I know organizing a wedding is expensive but the prices she told me--I'm not sure if I'll ever get married." you laugh and Jungkook amusingly rolls his eyes.

"You will." he assures you.

You know you will. You're just joking but the money you need for a single wedding is still a lot. Mind blowing.

"Oh," you suddenly remember, reaching for your phone on the counter as you unlock it. "I wanna show you something."

"What? Another wedding dress?" He jokes as you thrust your phone into his hands, eyes trailing your face amusingly for a moment before he looks at the screen and his features freeze before a slight frown makes it on his face. "What's this?"

"I found this on the internet." you explain, standing next to him as you peek at the screen, a familiar image and text on it.

"Are you moving out?" he asks, surprised.

"I told you I'm searching for apartments and I found this. Look at the pictures, the apartment is so cozy and the rent is actually very good. It's even closer than the building I lived in before. Look, look," you tell him as you swipe the pictures to show him how the building looks from the outside. "Doesn't it look western? It brings me back home. It even has a balcony!"

Jungkook looks at the pictures, reading the information that comes with the ad.

"I didn't contact the person yet, I wanted to show you first. But I think I'm gonna try it and have a look. What do you think?"

He hands you back the phone as he looks a little taken back, which you do notice and it makes your excited features fall down a little. He meets your gaze and suddenly relaxes as he gives you a smile.

"You should try at least."

"Would you come with me? I mean... if you're free that day."

"Yeah, sure. We can check it out together." he assures you and you sigh in relief.

"What's wrong?"

He frowns, shrugging. "What?"

"You look weird. Do you not want me to move out?"

"Do you think I want to?" he asks dumbfoundedly. "I told you you can stay as long as you want." he reminds you.

"No, no that's not what I meant. I know I can stay. But we both know I can't stay here forever."

"Why not?" Jungkook's lips curl as he sits down on the chair and pulls you between his spreaded legs. "I got used to having you here,"

And his hands roam down your lower back as you shiver, looking down at him and how soft his skin looks.

"It's gonna be sad not having you around."

You snort, "You make it seem as if I'm moving to another country," you joke, "I will still be around. Have you grown attached to me, hm?"

Jungkook rolls his eyes, "You know I enjoy your company."

"Mhm, company," you tease as he grins at you, eyes sparkling. "Or something else, don't you?"

"It's not just about sex." he frowns a little as you snort.

"Okay," you nod, knowing that's not what he meant. "But it does make things easier, doesn't it?"

"It does," he agrees, "How will I fuck you? Will we have to make sex apppoitments or something?" he whines and it causes a bubbly laugh rip out of your throat as your hands play with his hair at the back of his head.

"Oh, how awful." you tease and he groans, hiding his face into your stomach as you keep laughing.

He pinches your ass and you yelp, scolding him right after as you're interrupted by Jungkook's ringtone. He reaches for the device, staring at the screen as a low "Fuck" makes it out.

He groans and you look at the screen, seeing "Mom" written on it.

"I was supposed to call her but I forgot." he explains before he accepts the call.

"Yah, Jeon Jungkook! You don't know your mother's number?" Mrs. Jeon scolds him as soon as she realizes Jungkook has accepted her call, even before he can utter a single word.

You hold back a laugh, watching Jungkook pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm so sorry, mom. This week has been busy and--"

"So busy you can't contact your parents?" Mrs. Jeon continues to scold him as Jungkook shoots you a glare, ready to slap your ass as you dodge it just in time. "Jungwon told me you'll call me and I've been waiting."

"Ah, I know. I'm sorry, mom," Jungkook sighs disappointedly at himself, "I'll make it up to you."

"You will!" she agrees, "I want you to come visit. The last time you were here was for Christmas. It's spring already, spring Jungkook!"

You can't hold it back and you laugh out loud, slapping your hand over your mouth as Jungkook's mouth twitches and he tries to hide a grin. His mom says something as Jungkook sighs.

"It's Y/N. She's here with me."

You hear something muffled, now that her voice isn't as loud as Jungkook sighs. "Wait a second,"

And then he turns on the speaker and places his phone on the counter.

"Okay, she hears you now."

"Y/N, my sweetest girl! Is my son annoying you? Is he cleaning after himself? I heard you live with him, I hope he takes care of you."

You giggle, Jungkook pursing his lips as he looks annoyed at his own mother.

"Hi, Mrs. Jeon!" you greet her cheerfully, stepping closer to the phone so she hears you more clearly. "Don't worry, Jungkook is the nicest roommate."

"I'm happy to hear that. I raised him well!" she praises herself and Jungkook snorts, causing you to elbow him as he shrugs.

"You did." you agree with her, smiling as she asks you how you are and how's your work. Simple and friendly questions you gladly answer.

In the middle of your conversation, Jungkook sneakily starts to caress your ass down your thighs, shooting you a grin as you turn around to glare at him.

"--you need to come to Busan too! Jungkook-ah, take her with you. We need more girls in this household."

Jungkook snorts, "I don't know if Y/N wants to, mom."

Mrs. Jeon stays silent, waiting for your answer. "I mean... if I'm free I'd love to see you and Mr. Jeon again." you reply politely.

"See, Jungkook? Even Y/N wants to see us."

"Mom," Jungkook groans, hand between your thighs as he caresses your inner thigh.

You hate to admit how wet you already are from his touches and he is not even touching your clothed heat.

"I said I'm sorry. You really gonna torture me?"

Mrs. Jeon snorts, "Yes."

"You women are something else."

"Y/N dear, slap him for me."

"Mom!"

You start laughing, Jungkook dropping his hand off your leg.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Jeon. I will punish him." you joke, not realizing how your words sound until it's too late but Mrs. Jeon doesn't put any thought to it as she laughs and supports you.

Jungkook glares at your amused expression that you give him, something flickering in his eyes. "Keep talking," he warns you with a low tone, so his mother doesn't hear him.

You stick your tongue out at him.

"Mom, I will try and come this weekend. I'm sorry for not calling sooner. Say hi to dad from me, okay?"

"You better come this weekend. We miss you and it's been a while. Haru has been talking about her uncle, I'm sure she will be happy to see you again."

"I was just babysitting her, mom." Jungkook reminds her dumbfoundedly.

"And? That's why she can't stop talking about you. Why do you sound so annoyed, Jeon Jungkook? I hope you're not because she is your niece, just wait–"

"Alright, mom. I love you and I will see you next weekend. Bye, love you." And he hangs up before she can say anything else.

He leaves you speechless and you laugh, slapping his shoulder. "That was mean!"

"She was mean too!"

"Genes." you shrug simply and walk away from him.

"Yah!" You hear behind you.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook scenario #personasintro

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sluttywonwoo · 1 year

Note

Pt2 of my skz thots coz oof I've been waiting for someone to ask. This is a soft thot but a thot none the less. Soft lazy( and very handsy) morning sex with Chan that's filled with giggles and heart eyes and cute ruffled curly bed head🥺

-🐈‍⬛

“it’s too early…” chris moans, rolling away from you.

it is early. but you want him.

you try again, rolling him onto his back and snuggling up to him. he grumbles but doesn’t complain, thinking you’re going to let him sleep. you lay yourself across him, positioning yourself in a way that you can slot his thigh between your own.

the pressure alone makes you sigh in relief. you’d woken up aching and had been trying to wake your sleeping rock of a boyfriend for the better part of twenty minutes.

you’re not very subtle about it, not trying to be, as you grind down on his thigh. chris catches on right away, heaving a sigh.

“baby…”

“please,” you whine. “please, i need you.”

“do you?”

“yes, fuck, please.”

he’s fully awake now, you can feel him hard and twitching against your thigh. you know he’s only teasing you by pretending to be drifting in and out of sleep but it frustrates you nonetheless.

“chris!”

he cracks one eye open and grins cheekily before pouncing on you. you scream as he flips you over and climbs on top of you, laughing through the kisses he plants all over your face.

he’s already naked (because that’s how he always sleeps, although when is he not naked when he’s home—) and is quick to pull your panties to the side so that he can tease you some more with his cock.

“not gonna fuck you just yet,” he mumbles, shushing you when you whimper in protest. “gotta stretch you out first.”

“no, i’m so wet already. you’ll slide right in,” you assure him.

“you sure?”

“mhm.”

he pretends to think about it as he jerks himself off, smirking at the way you’re practically tuning out everything he’s saying and just staring at his dick. “you know, normally i’d still finger you and make you wait for it just for being a brat and waking me up but i’m feeling nice this morning.” he brings a hand to your chin and forces you to look up at him. “ready, baby?”

“god, yes, put it in already.”

“so needy,” chris muses to himself, chuckling. he’s met with practically no resistance as he pushes into you. “jesus christ, you are soaked. what’s got my baby so worked up this morning? hm?” he asks between kisses to your neck.

it isn’t until you feel him nip at the spot he’d just kissed that you realize he’s expecting an answer. “ah! uh, i don’t… i don’t know,” you mumble. “just woke up needing you.”

“yeah? wasn’t a dream?”

it’s hard to think straight with the way your boyfriend’s rolling his hips into yours but you try to string together a sentence anyway. “don’t think so… i don’t remember a dream.”

“s’okay, baby. you don’t need a reason. i was just curious.”

“oh… ok.”

chris laughs and strokes your hair fondly. “you’re so cute, baby. love when you get like this for me. now let’s make you cum so we can get back to sleep.”

#answered #anon #🐈‍⬛ anon #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #chan smut

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pinkaditty · 1 month

Text

Beauty (Twisted Wonderland, Rook Hunt)

tiptoes into blog again but steps on a comically placed whoopee cushion and alerts the entirety of my eagerly awaiting readers

hey hi hi sorry this is 2 let you all know that i am ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i had 2 disappear 2 focus entirely on my studies bc i was due 2 graduate with honors soon and i needed 2 have ALL my work completed lol! anyways, im glad 2 say that soon i will be the proud owner of an early bachelor’s degree in pre-med. this honors thesis better look STUNNING on my fucking resume.

a/n: anyways YES im working on ur asks now that i have more free time yaaaaaaaaay!!! in the meantime enjoy this lol i wrote it entirely on a whim bc i saw the new rook card on twt and was like “hm. okay fine ass.” anyways let it be known i know VERY LITTLE about book 7 and Rook in general (ive seen spoilers but i don’t actively seek them out, plus i don't have the game anymore bc free palestine, fuck disney), so this might be ooc or an unusually placed scenario. please let me know how i can improve!

summary: rook’s back to his old self. he’s not sure of himself, but you have some choice words.

cw: suggestive!!!!!!!! minors DNI!!!!!!!!!, book 7 spoilers i think, gn!reader (specifics of reader’s physical attributes are not mentioned, but Rook uses the masculine French word for "dear"), NOT PROOFREAD!!!!.

MINORS DNI AS PER USUAL THIS IS SUGGESTIVE!! THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING MY BOUNDARY!!!

“Well, I admit… the version of me you see standing before you, cher, was not me at my prime…”

You stare curiously at the man before you. Unmistakably, this was Rook. Same French accent, albeit with a harsher twang, same upturned green eyes, same haunting, knowing smile. It was Rook, without a doubt. But, he was different. He looked different. His uniform wasn’t Pomefiore- it was Savanaclaw. His hair was longer and wilder, choppy bangs and uneven waves falling in his face and along his back. His skin was darker, a light tan present on his usually pristine, pale skin. Freckles dotted the bridge of his nose and crest of his cheeks, and a smattering of them was found on his shoulders and neck. He didn’t stand quite as tall; rather, he stood with a slight slouch. Bending forward just slightly, piercing green eyes peering at you from beneath the shadow of a wide-brim brown hat. Strangely, like this, he appeared considerably more predatory.

Suddenly, him previously being in Savanaclaw made sense.

However, this spurred a question in you. Not about his decision to change dorms, but about his words.

“What do you mean, not at your ‘prime’?”

You furrow your brows in confusion as you stare back at him, searching for answers. This Rook- with far more obvious muscle definition and hardened expressions- seemed quite at his fully-functioning peak. You step towards him, your eyes raking over his form, lingering at his rough, calloused hands on his hips, at his broad, freckle-covered chest, and at his perfect cupid’s bow, where a stray freckle laid. “Mon trickster,” he speaks, the sharp twang of his accent making you shiver. His lips rise into a knowing grin. Your eyes snap back up to his eyes, glued to you in irony. “It’s rude to stare.”

Your cheeks heat up only for a moment, but you wave him off. “Rook…” You start, giving him one more once over before glancing away again, not wanting to get too caught up in observing his proportions. “I don’t think this isn’t your prime. If anything…” You turn to him again, looking him in the eyes. You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before hurriedly spitting out the words before you could regret them. “...I think you’re beautiful.”

You would expect Rook, of all people, to be unfazed by these words. However, he seems a bit taken aback, his eyes widening and his posture straightening, before he leans back forward again, his predatory smirk stretching wider across his face. “Merci, mon chéri, however, I do believe-”

“I mean it.” You quickly interrupt him, stopping him from beginning a self-depricating tirade of how unaccustomed he used to be to the concept of beauty. “I think you’re beautiful like this.” You face him head-on, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. This shouldn’t feel like confessing, but strangely, it does.

Now it’s Rook’s turn to blush. His smile fades, his eyes going from knowing to gentle curiosity. The warm redness of the blush spreads across his tan cheeks, accentuating the darkness of his freckles. Something about that is endearing to you, and for a moment, you are emboldened.

You step closer to him, to which he instinctively steps back, maintaining space while his senses are momentarily thrown off by his reaction to your praise. However, he doesn’t get to do that for long. He stumbles back into a stool, gripping onto its edge as he falls onto it, surprised. He would have known that was there, if not for your closeness and persistence. You move even closer, placing a knee between his thighs on the stool, boosting your height and leaning in to grab his face. He freezes, momentarily shocked by your bold actions, but he soon relaxes, his shoulders falling and his breathing returning to normal. He looks down, his eyes becoming hooded before he looks up at you again, his emerald gaze more alluring than before. He bites his lip before speaking, probably to distract you. Admittedly, it almost works. “Mon trickster…” He speaks again, and you wonder how anyone got used to hearing him speak, when such a harsh twang in a smooth accent contradicted so perfectly. He breathes shakily, a blush returning to his face. You deduced he was definitely trying to lure you in. “You’re being… awfully bold today. May I ask what’s brought this on-”

“Your imperfections are what makes your beauty!” You don’t shout, but you do raise your voice, ensuring his words are drowned out. Being this close to him makes you somewhat nervous, but you stand your ground, pressing your palms a little more into the flesh of his cheeks. He blinks at you confusedly, waiting for you to speak. You open your mouth to speak, but close it just as quickly, letting out a few false starts before sighing. You look away, taking a deep breath, before steeling yourself and facing him once more. Slowly, you let your eyes take in his face, until your gaze reaches his freckles, prominent against his tan skin. You find yourself stroking his freckles with your thumbs, gently tracing the nonsensical patterns in which they appear. You finally find your confidence again, and speak without thinking. “Your freckles and tan don’t tell me that you had bad or sensitive skin- they tell me that you loved the sun.” Your voice is so gentle it surprises yourself, not whispered, but low, and filled with a strange intimacy.

His eyes widen at your words, his lips parted. He breathes shakily, but something about it is genuine this time. His eyes remain fixated on yours, his thick eyebrows downturned in a strange mix of melancholy and yearning. You stroke his face more, and he relaxes, closing his eyes and letting you hold him. You begin to breathe shakily yourself, your body flushing with heat and your fingers beginning to tremble just slightly. You move your right hand from his cheek to his hair, not once lifting your palm. Your fingers gently move through his hair, holding the back of his head, and he leans into your touch, exhaling as your pinky brushes the back of his neck. You lean in as well, following him as he follows your touch. He opens one eye to peer at you curiously, gauging your next action. When you gently pull at his waves, his eye snaps shut again, and he disguises a moan as a throaty exhale. You speak again, led purely by the spur of the moment. “Your uneven bangs and wild hair don’t tell me that you didn’t care for it- it tells me that you took the time to let it grow, and chose not to restrict what was yours.” You say this close to his neck, your lips gently brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers, gripping the stool harder.

You begin to pull back, keeping your palms to his skin. You move your right hand back to his cheek, where your left hand still rests on his other one. You pause for a moment before drifting both hands downwards, your palms and fingers tickling his jaw and neck. He leans his head back to allow you access, sighing quietly at the feeling. You gently trail your palms and fingers down his neck before finally resting at the base. You then gently drag your hands to his shoulders and squeeze them, looking up at him. His blush still remains, and his lips are still parted, his breathing still shaky. He gazes at you expectantly, as though eagerly awaiting your next bit of praise. You lean towards his face and press your forehead to his, looking down at his shoulders. “Your slouch does not tell me that you had bad posture- it tells me that you were shyer, and didn’t take pride in your appearance.” You begin to trail your palms down his shoulders, your fingers feather-light on his skin in their wake. He shivers at the gentle stimulation, closing his eyes again. His breathing gets heavier and shakier, and you begin to feel heat pool within you once more. You pull your head back, straightening up as your stare at him. Leaning your face close to his, you continue to trail your palms down his arms, your fingers lightly pressing into his muscles, mapping out the structure of his body. Eventually you lift your palms, using only your fingers to trail down his forearm, tracing the insides of his wrists. He hardly flinches, likely expecting this, but still shivers at the sensation. “It also tells me…” You continue, your lips mere inches from his, but not daring to move any closer, staring at his cupid’s bow and blonde lashes. Your fingers reach his hands, and you gently pry them from their grip on the stool, moving them to his lap, palms up. You trace your fingers along his rough, calloused palms and fingers, making shapes and patterns. “...That you took more pride in the things you did with your hands.” You press your palms into his and his eyes flutter open, not surprised to find you mere inches from his face. He exhales, his blush deepening. He blinks at you, knowing you still weren’t finished yet.

“Your imperfections lead me to your beauty. That’s why…” You trail off, lifting one hand from his palm and caressing his cheek once more. “...You’re beautiful.”

You begin to pull back, closing your eyes and quickly moving away, beginning to move your knee from between his thighs on the stool. However, he quickly grabs you, his fingers gripping the back of your uniform as he pulls you in. Your knee follows your movements, pushing into his inner thigh on the stool. He sharply inhales, looking down, before looking back up at you with hooded eyes. His eyes still look expectant, as though he still wants more.

“Mon trickster…” He says lowly, pulling you in further. Your knee presses harder against his inner thigh and your upper body closer towards his. He breathes shakily, moving one hand from the back of your uniform to the front, bunching some of it in his grasp. He tilts his head towards you, and you can feel his breath on your lips as your eyes lock with his. Heat flushes through your body again.

“Are there any other… imperfect beauties… that I possess, that you’d like to point out to me?”

rejoice! entertainment be upon ye!

a/n: okay but seriously, i hope u all enjoyed! i wrote this in like,, a few hours? for reference it is like. 5:45 am where i am as i type this LOLLLL! i was up lateee bc i no longer have schoolwork which meansss every spare second i have that im not working working, ill be doing these. anyways! please please pleeeeaaaasssseee leave a like, comment, and a reblog if u liked it! i love 2 know that u loved my work! ik its been a while but i promise 2 try 2 be more active… i swear!! oh, and leave an ask if u have any ideas about other things i should write!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland smut #minors dni #rook twst #rook x reader #twst rook #rook hunt #rook twisted wonderland #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt twisted wonderland #rook hunt twst #rook hunt x yuu #rook hunt smut #twst #rook hunt x mc

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fairydustblossom · 9 months

Text

tied to you

azriel x reader

summary: yours and azriels friendship is strained, but azriel can't seem to keep away from you

category: angst, mutual-pinning, fluff

word count: 3.5k

warnings: none i think lol

notes: hey y'all i know i disappeared for a bit i promise i will update losing control but i just hadn't felt any inspo and my brain kept coming up with different fic ideas lol, anyways wrote this one and i quite like it ◡̈ lmk what y'all think! and remember request are open! i won't necessarily get to them immediately but i will at some point!! enjoy!

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

“Why don't you like me anymore?” a deep voice asked. You jumped in your seat, dropping the pen you were writing with, ink splashing all over your paper. You hadn’t heard the owner of the voice approach you, having been consumed by your work in the deep aisles of the library.

At the sound of his voice, your inner alert senses started going off. Immediately you were overcome with the urge to flee, the same feeling you had often felt in his presence as of late. If you didn’t leave now, your heart would hurt. The longing within you would surface if you didn’t find a way out. However, you looked up, glancing at the intruder. The room you were in had darkened, the faeligths around you dimmed, as if the light was fighting to be seen. That was the power he had. To walk into a room and the sheer strength of his power bend the will of light, surrendering to the darkness he commanded. There he was, sitting across from you and you could feel yourself wanting to do the same. Wanting to succumb to him, give all of you to the darkness that was part of him and never surface again.

Fighting back the urge to roll your eyes, you met his unrelenting stare and sighed. This again. Recently, he had started noticing the distance you had put between you and him and he had started trying to catch your attention, to get you to speak to him, anything to get you to interact with him.

"Azriel you know I like you, we are family" you replied, glancing up at him for a breath only to continue your work.

His cheeks were slightly flushed. You hadn’t seen it, but he had winced when he startled you enough to ruin the paper you were writing on. He didn’t intend for his question to come out so bluntly. He already felt mortified at approaching you with this question, but he couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help but notice how you never interacted with him anymore. Couldn’t help but notice how anytime he tried speaking with you, you would find a way to get out of the conversation. How you would leave a room when he walked in, and if you had to stay in the room, how you would simply ignore his existence.

He remembered a time when you would smile at him every time he walked into a room. How you unabashedly talked to him, unphased by his quiet demeanor. How you would seek him out in meetings, at parties, during missions. How could he not notice the change? At first he thought you were maybe going through something and needed some space. But your behavior towards the rest of your family hadn’t changed, you had only changed your behavior towards him. Azriel couldn’t explain why it bothered him so much. It was eating him alive, not knowing what he did wrong. How had he managed to push away his dearest friend?

He took you in, eyes narrowing at your response. He expected you to tell him honestly, to not so casually lie to his face, as if he didn’t know when you were being dishonest.

"You know Y/N, I’m used to being disliked,, and normally I wouldn’t care.. but... we used to be friends. At least I thought we were." Even though he tried, he couldn’t fully keep the bitterness from his words.

"We... we are friends Azriel" you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You could tell Azriel was irritated, but you refused to let him get to you. You had vowed to yourself to remain strong in your decision to keep your distance from Azriel. For years, you had longed for your friendship to grow into something more. For years you had been complacent, satisfied in having any part of him that you could. Pushing aside the feelings you harbored for the Shadowsinger, grateful that you could be such a close friend, never asking for more.

He shook his head at your response, narrowing his eyes further and standing his ground. "No we aren't. I know how you treat your friends and you dont treat me like that anymore."

You looked back down to your papers, opting not to respond. You knew Azriel and you knew anything you said he would counteract with his own reasoning. And the truth was that you had distanced yourself, and you didn't really consider Azriel a friend anymore. You had painfully said goodbye to that friendship that you cherished so dearly. It had taken you a long time to accept that Azriel would never be yours. You had finally come to terms with the fact that remaining friends was too painful. So you had decided to end the friendship.

No, you never had a conversation about it with him, but you didn’t think he would care. He never seemed to care. At least you thought that, until now.

Your silence hurt him more than he expected. A feeling of dread was creeping up on him. At that moment, Azriel decided the most important thing in the world was to gain back your friendship. The loss of it suddenly unbearable. He could undoubtedly see the emptiness it had left in his life.

"Y/N, did I do something?" he managed to keep his voice steady but he was ready to drop to his knees and plead for your forgiveness, whatever he had done.

You snapped your book shut and stood up looking down at him now.

"No Az, you haven't done anything. Really, I’ve just been busy" you shot him a tight smile, and turned around walking away from the conversation.

Azriel stood up, about to follow you but the pit in his stomach, the feeling of rejection, and how easily you dismissed him, left him standing in place.

A few days later, Azriel had come back to the library. He had, at one point, seated himself in the chair across from you.

He was intent on getting you to acknowledge him. Even if it was only you asking him to go away. He figured you would say something about him there; however, you said nothing to him. You had only looked at him once, when you first realized he was there. The rest of the time, you just sat silently, working on whatever Rhys had asked of you. At first, his presence made your entire body tense up and it was hard to concentrate on your work, but refused to give in. You knew he was just trying to provoke you. Still, Azriel just sat there doing his own work. After a few hours of silence, realizing Azriel wasn’t going to bring up your strained friendship again, you were able to relax. His presence became comforting, something you had not felt in a long time.

Azriel’s calming presence had been one of the first things that drew you to him. He had never been a man of many words but you had always found solace in him. A consistent, safe space for you.

You had mourned the loss of that space, and you were weary of letting yourself fall back into old habits, but you decided to indulge yourself. One time wouldn't ruin all the hard work you had put into coping with the distance. So you let yourself bask in his silence, your mind losing itself in your work.

Azriel on the other hand couldn't really calm down. Joy filled him with being able to sit next to you. He kept wracking his brain for something to say but kept deciding against it. He was terrified of feeling what he had felt the other day, determined to never feel rejected by you again. He decided he would be content with just sitting next to you in silence.

The intensity with which he realized how much he had missed the warmth you radiated, after getting it back today, took him by surprise. He mentally made plans to seek you out whenever he needed to do paperwork. If you let him sit next to you he would be happy with that.

When you got to a good stopping point, you decided to leave. Everything in you begged you to stay longer, to talk to him, to touch him, but you fought against it. You would not let yourself go back to being at his disposal.

Azriel continued showing up to the library whenever he needed to do work. His heart would quicken anytime he set his eyes on you, tucked away in your corner. He refrained from talking, fear seizing his heart that talking would break this delicate companionship. He also started showing up to training at the same time as you, even if the sweat glistening down your body made it impossible to actually train and he had to do two sessions a day. He felt consumed by thoughts of you, he craved you.

When Azriel started showing up to your training hours, your heart sank to the pit of your stomach. You had purposely changed your schedule to avoid training with him, it had become unbearable. Now, you were back in the same predicament. Worry filled you, it felt like you were losing control of the situation and Azriel was slowly trickling back into every aspect of your life. But you couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in you every time you saw him, fully aware that what he seeked was your company. It also helped that he looked incredibly breathtaking while training. The sight of his shirtless torso one that you had missed. The tattoos that adorned his defined muscles, and the power he radiated while practicing his skills, made your knees want to buckle.

He didn't really know if you found it annoying that he was forcing himself back into your life. You wouldn't let much show and he couldn’t decipher how you were feeling. He wasn't used to that. He used to be able to read you so easily, whatever you were feeling so plainly written on your face. The past weeks had felt like he was getting to know you all over again, like he had to earn those smiles back that so easily had come before. Azriel understood now that he had taken you for granted, and he was ready to do just about anything he could to get you back.

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

At the end of the fourth week of this new silent dance between you and Azriel, you found yourself somehow sitting next to him in a circled booth at Ritas. Conversation flowed between your friends, but you stayed quiet, the feeling of Azriel’s body pressed against you overwhelming your thoughts. His muscular body radiated warmth and you could feel yourself leaning into him in your drunken state. You sat up straighter when you realized what you were doing, looking around the booth hoping none of your friends had noticed. They hadn’t, all too busy in their own worlds to notice anything.

Azriel turned his gaze to look down at you, you seemed to be looking at everything but him. He took in how your exposed thigh was pressed against his covered one, and he thought for a fleeting second that he shouldn’t have worn pants tonight if it meant he would have been able to feel your bare skin against his. He had felt you sinking into him and then quickly sitting up and fought the urge to pull you into him again. He wanted you closer to him. He wanted you.

The alcohol running through him gave him the courage to bump you with his shoulder to get your attention. Your head turned to look at him and your eyes met his hazel ones. You were mesmerized. It seemed his eyes were glowing in the night club, specks of gold beckoning you in deeper. His shadows creeped up around you both as you continued to stare into each other's eyes. He leaned down, and your heart skipped a beat, for a brief second you thought he was going to kiss you. But instead of your lips, his lips brushed the side of your ear. You felt silly, why would he kiss you? Rather than shame filling you, heat creeped up, your breath hitching in your throat when you felt his own on your neck.

“So, are you going to tell me why you stopped being my friend?” He asked against your ear, deep voice gruff with the drinking of the night. He leaned back and looked at you intently, waiting for your answer.

"Come on Azzie, you know better than to ask questions like that" you replied with half shut lidded eyes and a shake of your head, a soft smile etched on your face.

His heart skipped a beat at the nickname you used to call him, only in private moments. And your smile. That soft barely there smile was the realest smile you had given him in months. He wanted more of it. He wanted that smile aimed at him every day. The fervor of his need left him breathless and it took everything in him not to grab your face and kiss you until all you could say was his name.

He licked his lips and said in a low voice, "You forget interrogation is part of my job description. I ask whatever I want, and I always get answers"

You couldn't fight off the heat creeping up your cheeks. His voice, gods, his voice did things to you. Especially when it was just meant for you to hear it. You let out a sigh, a deflated sigh. You recognized the need rising within you to have him. And every reminder that you never would made you feel heavy and defeated.

"I don't understand why you wanna know so bad" you whispered, averting your gaze, only to be met by a thick cloud of shadows.

"I care about you" he replied, his hand tentatively reaching up to turn your face back to him. He barely touched you, scared of spooking you, but when he did, he felt a spark shoot up his arm and he swore he could feel it crawling its way up to his chest. However, the slight frown on your face hinted to him that he had said the wrong thing.

"Azriel, it's been months. I don't think you cared about me until this past month. And you and I both know the only reason you suddenly care is because Elain finally gave Lucien a chance and is not giving you any attention anymore."

The sharpness in your words took him aback and he looked away. And the mention of Elain made his cheeks flush . His shadows scattered away form you and were mostly surrounding their master now. He felt embarrassed at how he had behaved the past year, knowing full well Elain had a mate. It was a sore subject, and he hadn’t expected you to throw it back in his face like that. But your words weren't exactly accurate. Yes, he had noticed the distance between you only recently, and some of that did have to do with not being around Elain as much anymore, but he had always cared for you. How could you think otherwise?

He couldn't deny that something was drawing him to you more than ever and he didn't know what to say back to you. The lightness in your conversation, verging on the edge of flirtiness had dissipated. He could feel your unrelenting stare on the side of his face and could feel your annoyance growing by the second.

"I've always cared about you" he finally said, mustering the courage to look you in the eyes again. He forced himself to look at you and read the dislike you held for him on your face. The look you gave him now is what he had been wanting this past month. Every time he sat next to you, every time he invaded your space he wanted you to look at him this way, to prove that he wasn't making it up, to prove that he was right in thinking you didn't like him anymore. But now that he saw it, he felt small. He felt that he had done something to ruin the friendship he had grown to fiercely need in his life again.

You couldn't fight the roll of your eyes and the scoff that came out of you at his words. The alcohol making you lose the grace with which you had handled Azriel the last few weeks. You stood up and walked away, the words "Not in the way I've cared about you" at the tip of your tongue. Trying to lose yourself in the crowd you quickly made your way through, fighting off the tears building up. The past month had just been too much. You had promised yourself that you would not be in this position again. That you wouldn't cry over Azriel again.

You stepped out of Ritas into the cold fresh air and let out an exasperated laugh, tears falling from your eyes now. You felt a madness creeping up within you, the feeling of being trapped, always tied to Azriel consuming you.

You leaned against a wall and looked up at the night sky, laughing at yourself.Only a few minutes had passed before you felt him coming near you. The look you shot him made him stop abruptly. Something in his chest broke at seeing you in such a state. Your makeup was smudged around your bloodshot eyes, tear marks running down your face.

You had stopped crying and now you just stared at him with a deadpan look. Why were you crying? He was so confused. He furrowed his brows. Were you crying over him?

He didn't know if it was the liquor running through his veins that gave him the boldness to step closer to you, or if it was simply the need within him to feel your body pressed against his. The desire overtaking his body to be sharing each other's space. But he did know that he felt a pull towards you, an unstoppable force that would only subside once he could feel your breath against his lips. He just knew.

Azriel analyzed your features, looking for any indication that he had misread the situation. The front of his body was fully pressed against yours now, your back pressed against the wall, drawing a small gasp from you. His hands came to cup your face, and his thumbs wiped away the remaining wetness on your cheeks.

"Is this okay?" he whispered, barely audible.

You could only give a slight nod, hypnotized by his beauty, the feeling of his strong body against yours. Everything you had dreamed of for years. This couldn't be real, could it? You were afraid that if you spoke the moment would end. You took in every detail of his face, committing everything to memory, you had never been this close to him. You could see the furrow in his brows as he took you in, the freckles spread around his face, his beautiful nose nudging yours slightly, and his lips. His plump lips, gods his lips, once you set your eyes on them you couldn’t draw them away.

And then he leaned in, lips hovering over yours, you could feel them lightly grazing your own. You felt like you were melting, the wall and his body the only things holding you up.

"Please kiss me Az" you heard yourself say, not even realizing you had started speaking until the words were coming out of your mouth. The desire you had kept locked up for so long seeping through.

That was all Azriel needed to hear to do what he wanted to do. His lips met yours in a slow passionate kiss, he poured every once of care and affection he felt for you into it. He didn't rush it, he let himself feel every part of your mouth, taste every inch. His hands tightened their grip on your face. One hand tangling into your hair. How had he gone so long without ever tasting you? He felt that he couldn't stop now. He felt so complete.

And then it snapped. The bond he had been searching for his entire life. The pull that he felt toward you. And you felt it too. The feeling of being tied to Azriel, never letting you get too far, had been the bond. All at once, everything made sense and fell into place. You held him closer to you, neither of you stopping to catch your breath. You just kept kissing him, trying to figure out how to pour everything you were feeling down the bond. And then you felt his own feelings seeping through, the happiness he felt, the relief, and the heat that came with it indicating what this kiss was doing to him.

You felt yourself giggling between kisses, the bond singing with joy in its full force. "You're my mate" you said, hand coming to hold his face in place, leaning your forehead against his while still looking into the pools of honey in his eyes. His cheeks were flushed and he couldn't, wouldn't, fight off the smile creeping up on him. ",and you're mine." He whispered

There would be a lot to talk about in the following days, but for now you just let yourself forget everything to enjoy the feeling of Azriel.

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