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#as brief as it could before he made it break their connection
lewdmommie · 11 months
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One night stand
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Summary: y/n is forced to do some after hours training with König
🎀Warning🎀: 18+NSFW, Oral sex, raw sex, breeding, rough sex, fluff, slight angst,praise/degradation kink, size kink etc…
ClingyKönigxreader💗
Part 2.
Part 3
Word count: 4.k
“That was good but you’re leaving yourself open.” A gloved hand takes hold of your wrist. He lifts both arms, protecting your face. Your eyes dart up catching a brief moment of eye contact before he quickly looks away. Green. His eyes were green, you hadn’t noticed till now. König was sweet but he made sure to keep his distance from people—the fact that you were this close to him at all was a shock. Sgt. Ghost didn’t take kindly to your recent mistake on the last mission. He doubled your workload and put you on probation, because most of the Barracks were close friends of yours, he assigned you the quietest person on the team. Now you and König spend three hours a day training after hours. While your peers train together, you're mopping floors and cleaning toilets. Ghost doesn’t let you train during work hours in case your colleagues distract you. This was a punishment and he made that clear. “I’m sorry you have to do this with me everyday. This is my punishment, you shouldn’t have to suffer on my behalf.” He shakes his head at your apology.
“I don’t mind…I know how Ghost gets.” He places both hands on your hips, rotating your body. The truth is he really didn’t mind, most days he looked forward to seeing you. “Keep your core strong.” He instructs. His fingers travel up the curves of your body as he repositions you. His large hands warm up your waist as ungodly thoughts intrude your mind. The mask made it impossible for you to read his emotions, any expression came from his eyes (which he often hides). The only change you could see was the way his breath hitched as his finger accidentally grazes your breast. He was always so respectful when touching you, the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. Once your body is angled correctly he lets go, taking a few steps back. It almost seemed like he was avoiding the closeness. “Now attack me and defend.” He orders. You lunge forward —jabbing left, right,left,right. He blocks every punch effortlessly, guarding his face. He dodges, dipping low and charging at you. His arms wrap around your thighs hoisting you up. Your fingers interlock beating down on his back, trying to break his iron grip. He stumbles, arms loosening just enough to break free. Your feet hit the ground, König grunts as your fist connects clean with his jaw. “Uhn that one actually hurt…good job.” He waves a hand of surrender while rubbing his cheek through the mask. You run over to help. “Are you alright I’m so sorry-“ his hand shoots out, snatching your arm, spinning you. His solid arm tightens around your neck trapping you in a chokehold. His breathing is shallow, body tensing as your ass presses against him. You reach up and caress his forearm. He hadn’t realized just how small you were compared to him till now, his body engulfed the entirety of your frame. He notes how perfectly you fit in his arms and how easy it’d be to break you. Your head rests just below his pecs, the smell of your hair product wafts up his mask, he inhales the sweet scent. His bicep flexes, tightening his grip, your eyes flutter and a quiet moan falls from your lips. You loved that light headed airy feeling of being choked.
“N-never let your guard down.” He let’s go, gently pushing you away, putting a giant gap between the two of you. “Even if you think someone is done, be prepared to attack…” he trails off getting distracted by how sexy you look after an intense workout. How fast your breathing is, how your hair is messy with sweat, how your lips part as you catch your breath. He wanted to be the one to work you out.
“Oh whatever you cheated .” You laugh squatting down as you catch your breath. König crouches, grabbing his flask from the ground. His large, veiny hands twist the top off in one swipe. Unconsciously, he lifts the bottom of his mask to drink, showing you a glimpse of the lower half of his face. His jaw tenses, a trickle of water spills down his chin as he swallows. His adams apple bobs with each gulp. You gawk at the scene in front of you, thinking it has to be a daydream.
“Water?” He holds the flask to you.
“S-sure.” You ease to a sitting position on your knees reaching for the bottle. You stare at the rim that just grazed his lips. Does this count as an indirect kiss? You think. He watches you place your lips in the exact spot he’d drank from, flushed with excitement. He wonders if your lips were as soft as he imagined they’d be. How they’d feel melding with his…how they’d feel wrapped around his dick. He doesn’t dwell on it too long, knowing that would never happen and that you didn’t see him that way.
“Have you eaten?” He asks, looking at you with big green eyes.
“Sergeant told the cafeteria to only feed me peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, so I haven’t eaten anything of value.” Your stomach grumbles on que.
“You must have really gotten on his bad side huh?” He offers you a hand,helping you to your feet.
“Unfortunately.” You dust off your pants and begin collecting your belongings.
“Since we wrapped up a bit early, how about I take you somewhere you can get real food.” He offers, packing his duffle bag.
“You know how tight ghost keeps the kitchen locked up…” you say with an annoyed tone.
“Who said anything about the kitchen?” His voice sounds mischievous.
“You don’t mean-?” You shake your head, stuffing your hat and jacket in the bag.
“Come on, he’ll never know I’ve worked with him long enough to know his blind spots.” He tilts his head expressively.
“Fine but if we get caught, you ordered me to go.” You hike your bag onto your shoulder, walking past him. He smiles behind you.
~
“Puedo pedir dos margaritas?(may I have two margaritas) Sí…un bistec nacho y un burrito de pollo(one steak nacho and one chicken burrito)Eso es todo, gracias(that's all thank you).” He says expertly, the waiter nods thanking you before going to pin the order up.
“Wow I’ve been deployed here longer than you and my Spanish is still choppy.” You toy with some lime slices on the table to keep yourself busy. König watches you closely, an amused look in his eye.
“I can speak a few languages but I’m not good at them all.” He looks you up and down, the lights from the club area illuminates your skin. Your hair is pulled in a now messy bun. Cute strands stick out from your training session. He is especially drawn to your lips, the way you lick and nibble your bottom lip when you’re nervous. His eyes dart away when you feel his gaze lingering and look up.
“What other languages do you speak?” You stare out into the dance floor, watching the locals swing and jump to the music. They looked carefree and happy, it’d been so long since you’ve felt good or even had a good time. Ghost saw a lot of potential in you so he stayed on your ass 24/7. Tough love is what he liked to call it.
“German is my first language.” He reveals.
“German? That’s so cool , say something in German.” He chuckles at your excitement.
“Ich möchte dich über diesen Tisch beugen und dich dazu bringen, mich ganz zu nehmen (I want to bend you over this table and make you take all of me)” he leans forward, green eyes boring into you as he says this,making sure you can hear him over the music. You had no idea what he just said but it made your thighs clench under the table.
“W-what does that mean?”
“I’ll tell you one day.” He shrugs. You toss a lime, it smacks his vest with a small thud.
“I thought friends don’t keep things from eachother.” You tease. The server brings out two large glasses with salted rims, there was no way you could finish this entire thing. He places the margaritas on either side of the table along with straws. König tears open his straw taking a long pull from his drink.
“Whoa it’s strong.” The fruity syrup barely covered the 3 shots of liquor . You indulge, sucking a mouth full of the frozen drink. It tastes strongly of strawberry slushie and tequila, the salted rim balances all the flavors with a sour finish. The alcohol must have been hitting him pretty fast because all he could imagine is him being that straw. How good the inside of your mouth must taste and feel.
“You’re right…I see why everyone is having such a good time.” You joke, taking another sip. A hearty laugh rumbles in his chest, he loved the way you always spoke your mind. It’s one of the qualities that always got you in trouble with ghost. Nothing made him laugh more than watching you stress ghost out with your witty personality.
“I guess we’d better join the party.” He raises his glass for a toast before chugging half.
The server brings out hot plates of food, everything looked and smelled amazing. Your stomach growls at the sight of real food, the liquor (coupled with only eating sandwiches for a week) takes effect making you absolutely demolish your burrito. König shyly slips a few chips under his mask, he never ate around people since it usually required the mask to come off.
“This is soooo good.” You say having another bite.
“I love this place. I come here often.” He slides in another chip.
“I thought we weren’t allowed to leave base unauthorized or maybe that’s just me.” Ghost had a tendency of giving you extra rules for your troublesome rap sheet.
“We aren’t but if you don’t get caught, did it ever happen?” He laughs, taking the final sip of his drink.
“And they call me the troublemaker.” You say glancing at the dance floor again.
“Do you want to?” He asks.
“Want to what? Dance?…no I don’t uh I don’t dance.” You dismiss quickly.
“ I’ve seen you knock grown men out y/n, dancing can’t be much harder than that.”
“You know you’re much more social than usual.” You observe.
“Only when I’m with you.” He grabs your hand leading you to the crowd.
The music thumps with bass, shaking the ground beneath your feet. A sexy song plays through the huge speakers near the DJ station. People couple up, swaying their bodies to the beat. König slips an arm around your lower back pulling you close. You struggle to find the tempo, moving left to right awkwardly. He takes your hand, spinning you around. His eyes trace the line of your body before pulling you back into his chest. You giggle at how ridiculous you look compared to his smooth rhythm. Your foot slams down on his toe as you try to find the beat “I’m so sorry! I’m so bad at this maybe I should sit-“
“Let’s try this instead.” His knee forces your legs apart, giving him control of your movements. The feeling of his thigh pressed firmly against your heat makes your head spin.
“Follow my lead.” He commands.
His waist sways back and fourth, rocking your bodies in unison. You copy his actions, grinding your hips together, the grip on your waist tightens. The fabric of your pants rub creating friction between your legs, his cock reacts to the closeness, beating as if it was dancing along with them. finding the rhythm, your body starts to move on its own.
“Scheisse (Shit)” he groans as you turn around and twirl your ass on him. His head falls back as you start to swirl your hips down and back up slowly. His big hand slides over your stomach holding you as close as possible, his rock hard member strains through his thick camo pants. Your eyes close as you grind into him, his finger grazes the exposed skin peeking from under your shirt. He trails that same finger up your torso, between your breast and up your neck. His hand rests at the base of your throat keeping hold of you as your bodies whirl around the dance floor. He spins you back around to face him, for once he demands eye contact and you’re the one shying away. You stare at the floor, giant hands cup your face pulling you to meet his feverish gaze.
“Don’t look away from me.” König’s voice sounds different, More rugged. His shoulders hunch as he leans down to your height as he speaks. “Bitte komm mit mir nach Hause” he whispers in your ear.
“What’s that?”
“Please come home with me.” He breathes.
~
“How the hell did you convince Ghost to let you room by yourself ?” You ask, stepping past the threshold.
“ My social skills and big personality helped with that.” He jokes sarcastically. König wasn’t required to room with anyone thanks to his close connection to the sergeant, leaving the two of you completely alone in his quarters.
“Well I guess if you don’t talk much there isn’t much you could say to get in trouble.” You ponder.
“Yeah you should try it.” He chuckles at your shocked expression.
“Try what exactly?” You ask appalled , holding your chest dramatically.
“Not talking. That mouth of yours is dangerous.”
“Give me one example where I said something worth getting punished for.” Your arms cross.
“If I recall correctly you said and I quote ‘why would I listen to a dude named Simon?’ ” he says in a high pitch voice mimicking yours.
“First of all he wasn’t supposed to hear that, wrong place at the wrong time on his part and secondly Simon is a funny name, the jokes practically write themselves.” He pauses for a second before doubling over with laughter.
His keys clatter on the kitchen counter as he wipes his tears of laughter away. You set your bags near the couch and sway on your heels nervously, unsure whether to sit or stand. Strong hands settle on your shoulders working away the tension you’ve been holding for god knows how long. Your head rolls back into his touch, he kneads your muscles like dough relieving any and all stress. “That feels so good, König.” You groan, closing your eyes.
“Come with me.” He grasps your hand leading you down a hall , stopping at a closed door. He twists the knob revealing a very plain bedroom, a queen sized bed with black sheets, a desk, and stacks of paperwork are all that decorate the space. There are two extra doors, one leading to the closet and the other to the bathroom. You laugh at his clumsiness. He’s clearly tipsy as he staggers to the door.
He slips his gloves off and opens the cabinet below the sink, rummaging around and pulling things out onto the bathroom floor. Finally, he emerges with a pink topped bottle. “Baby oil” the label reads.
“Strip.” He says, unbuckling his bulletproof vest and laying it on the desk chair.
“S-strip?”
“Yes, so I can massage you. That is what you want isn’t it?” He removes his thick camouflage jacket revealing the snug black material of his undershirt.
His muscles bulge veiny and tight, stretching the fabric. It was true, you did want his hands all over you. Ever since you two started training together, you found yourself fantasizing about being split by that monster of a man. Your hands fumble with the buckle of your pants as you kick your boots off. He advances, towering a wapping 6'6”. You shift with anticipation, looking up at him with gleaming eyes. The tips of his fingers hook under the hem of your shirt, swiping it over your head. Your scrunchie is taken along with it, freeing your hair (for my fellow natural haired girlies let’s just say you have braids or a wig). If you’d known you’d be stripping for someone tonight, you would have picked sexier underwear. He’s silent as he takes in how perfect you look in your plain gray and white bra/pantie combo.
“Lay on the bed.” He instructs unscrewing the baby oil top.
You listen, climbing up into the comfy cotton sheets, using your arms as pillows. He’s flustered at how obedient you are, since that wasn’t a side of you he’d seen before. The military couldn’t break you…but he would. He stands at the side of the bed admiring every dip and curve of your figure. Flipping the bottle upside down, Slick cool oil slides down your back. His thumbs rub circles along your spine, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. His long fingers slip under your bra strap, he huffs in frustration.
“In the way-“ he unclasps it skillfully. Your face is burning with embarrassment, there was no way you were laying in Königs bed half naked. A shiver runs down your leg as he slides down the elastic waist of your panties. He begins working and kneading your lower back, squeezing the plush skin of your ass. The crotch of your panties were soaked, leaving a huge wet spot on the gray fabric. He inhales, your arousal was palatable, his dick pulsates at the scent of your glistening womanhood. Your panties glide down over your ankles as he slides them off, tossing them into the corner.
“Flip over.” He grunts, tossing you around.
Your breast fall from the unclamped bra, hard nipples on full display. König doesn’t hesitate yanking and pulling you to the edge of the bed.
“On your knees.” His voice is breathy and low.
your eyes stay on him as you shift onto your knees, hands holding your chest shyly. Gently he pulls them away, slipping the straps down and off your arms. Because of his height, you’re at perfect eye level with his throbbing erection. His breath hitches as your elegant fingers undo the zipper of his pants, his earthy green eyes flutter. His big hand cradles your cheek as he watches you work to release him from the shackles of those annoying pants. His cock burst free, slapping his lower stomach. Although you couldn’t see his face, the state of his arousal was evident. Veins root from base to tip, beating rhythmically along the upward curve of his sex. His tip is blushed and oozing with pre-cum, his breathing accelerates with need. You run your tongue up the length of his rock hard shaft, he grunts head lolling back. Your lips wrap around the tip, tongue swirling and teasing him before opening nice and wide.
“Scheiße (Fuck)” he pants, caressing your cheek pulling your warm wet mouth down on his cock. It was even better than he’s imagined, his hand sets the pace rocking your head back and forth. Tears prick your eyes as he begins moving faster, fucking your throat. Each thrust deeper than the last, his hand moves to the base of your neck feeling how deep you can swallow him.
“You look so fucking pretty sucking my cock.” He wipes a stray tear with his thumb.
You gag as he pushes further, your throat muscles contract around him before he pulls back.
“Oh naughty naughty girl. You almost made me cum.” He teases, lightly pushing you back onto the bed. The mattress creaks from his massive size as he climbs between your legs, peering down at you. Your hand reaches under the mask, he firmly grips your wrist forcing it to the bed.
“Ask nicely.” He orders.
“Can I touch you…please.” You beg.
He releases your hand, it finds the bottom of the mask, sliding underneath to find the stubble of a 5 o'clock shadow and soft lips. Your finger strokes his lower lip, it is plump and warm.suddenly, his mouth opens nipping and sucking the skin of your curious finger. “Ah what are you-“ you moan arching your back. Pushing your hand away once more, he leans down, capturing your parted lips. Your lips dance in perfect harmony, melting into one another. He moans into your mouth, his jaw tenses as your tongue pushes through savoring the flavor that is König. The head of his dick pokes at your slippery slit begging for entry, you can feel how hot he is all over causing your temperature to rise.
“Open up for me, I’m gonna give you everything I have.” He groans, plunging inside with a flick of his hips. Your hands claw at the smooth skin of his back as you stretch around him, his girth almost too much to handle. You cry out as he thrust deeper “Just alittle more baby, you’re taking me so well…s’good s’fucking good.” He pants filling you to the brim. He stays still for a moment letting you adjust to his large size, the pressure in your pussy nearly makes you cum right then and there.
“I feel you twitching around me princess, you can’t cum yet, I’m not done breaking you.” He pulls back before slamming back in, hitting the back of your cervix with each thrust. There is a delicious ache in your belly as he impales you, the curve of his dick reaches places you didn’t even know existed.
“Ah ah s’to big I-I can’t I can’t.” You cry biting the skin of his chest to hold back your screams.
“You’re gonna take what…I…give…you.” He pounds with each word. He sits up pushing your knees to your chest forcing even deeper inside your velvety walls. This position gives him access to your stiff wet bud. With two fingers he spreads your creamy folds watching his dick pump in and out of you. Every thrust his cock emerges more coated than the last.
“Your pussy is so fucking gorgeous , look at that needy little clit.” He flicks your bud, rutting into you with all his strength. His long fingers grab your throat, your tongue lols out as he chokes you. He alternates the pressure taking you up and gently bringing you back down. “That pretty mouth isn’t so dangerous now.” Your quivering walls clench around him threatening to overflow.
“P-please I’m gonna…ah!” He pulls out, gripping your waist as he throws you around, roughly raising your ass to him. Before you can register the change he splits you apart once again, slapping your plush ass, leaving hot hand prints on your skin. Those giant hands push and pull you back on his cock, using your pussy to make himself cum.
“You have such a cute tummy.” He reaches around pressing on your lower belly feeling how full it is with his cock.
“You would make such a pretty mommy.” He praises fucking you faster and harder. That throws you over the edge, your body convulses and clamps down icing his dick with your sweetness.
His teeth clench with an inhuman growl as his rod twitches and throbs before shooting your insides with his hot seed.
~
“Late again huh, rookie? That’s an extra week.” You jump, turning around. Ghost stands over you. It was true last night’s events made it impossible to wake up at 5 am with the other soldiers. You ended up sneaking out of Königs bed in the middle of the night, hoping you could sneak back into your barracks undetected. The mission was success. You slipped into your bed at 2 a.m before anyone could realize you were gone. Unfortunately, that means you overslept, waking up three hours late.
“I was…sick.” You lie scrubbing the bathroom tiles diligently.
“Sick? You were fine yesterday.” He says with a flat tone.
“Must have eaten something bad, all those peanut butter and jelly sandwiches must have taken a toll.” You grunt, rubbing your stomach.
“Next time you’re sick. You report it to me in advance.” He orders.
“How can I predict when I’m gonna be sick?-“
“Don’t question me.” He spins on his heels walking out the bathroom.
“Okay Simon.” You mock.
“What was that rookie?” He calls back.
“Nothing Sargeant!” You exclaim.
He walks away finally, leaving you with the smell of bleach and toilet water. Your arms ache from scrubbing. throwing the sponge in the bucket of cleaning solution, you sit back against the wall thinking about last night. All morning you avoided seeing König, ducking and dodging him in the halls. Every time you thought of him, your face burned with embarrassment, there is no way you could look him in the eye after that. For now your plan is to just lay low in hopes he was too drunk to remember anything. It was nothing. Just a drunken one night stand.
“There you are.” He charges forward looking down at you.
“H-here I am whats up König…do you need a copy of that report-“
“Why did you sneak out last night.” He interrupts.
“Psh me? Sneak out I didn’t sneak out. I just went for a walk…and ended up in my bed.” You reach into the bucket with gloved hands wringing the sponge out.
“Why couldn’t we sleep together?” He asks.
You fly to your feet in a panic “Shhh! What if someone hears you?”
“So what?” He tilts his head in confusion.
“Superior and subordinate relationships are strictly prohibited!” You whisper/yell.
“Right…hm, okay in here then.” He takes your hand leading you into the stall furthest from the door, The lock clicks behind you.
“Can’t this wait till after hours.” You say with an annoyed tone.
“I want an explanation.” His arm rests on the wall above your head.
“This. This is why I snuck off, to avoid whatever this is. Now I’m stuck in a bathroom stall talking about…feelings.” You hold your stomach making a pained face.
“This isn’t funny.” His voice is low.
“You’re right it isn’t but it is complicated .”
“Y/n? You in here?” A voice calls.
You mouth shit, covering what you assumed was his mouth through the mask.
“Yeah! I was just cleaning!” You call back.
“Who were you talking too?” She asks her foot steps advancing.
“No one! Here I come!” You let him go squinting your eyes.
“This isn’t over.” He whispers sharply, moving to the side.
“I can see that.” You grumble walking out the stall to greet your friend.
…to be continued?
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jaylaxies · 9 months
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ROMAN HOLIDAY
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PAIRING: jake x fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, slight fluff, protected and unprotected sex, (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), cunnilingus, marking, creampie, mentions of petnames (princess, baby, darling, daddy), lots of kissing and brief mentions of smoking, stealing, running away from cops, drugs, somnophilia (consensual), etc.
WC: 10k words
SYNOPSIS: visiting your grandma’s place was more or less your entire plan for your summer vacations and only break you get before your university starts, although, meeting your neighbour, bickering with him and clutching his hand while running away from cops wasn’t in your bucket list.
PLAYLIST: welcome to wonderland by anson seabra, movement by hozier, if you let me by alina baraz, how to love by jen z, roman holiday by halsey.
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, my sweetest angels <3 i'm finally here with a jake fic which was long due! i hope you guys like it <33 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated :D loveyou all <3
Bagging a window seat for a day-long journey sure is a blessing, peculiarly when you have to stay sitting at your spot in a train for a sum of six hours. Nestled in your seat, you sit straighter when the scenic view of the sea water meeting the sky graces your eyes—which you capture on your phone’s camera with a soft smile. 
It felt as if it had been ages since you got out of your room, where you used to be cooped up during the entirety of your day, studying for your final year of school. 
Your parents were concerned. They were highly proud of you for achieving top honours, yes, but it was about time you went out and cherished your life a little before you got winded up in the stress of University yet again, which was to start in one month. 
And what’s a better place to spend your vacations at if not at your granny’s home? 
It was a few minutes past six when you finally reached your desired destination, dragging your luggage behind you as a swish of cold breeze hit you. It looked straight out of a movie with how the train station was lit up by old-fashioned lamps which radiated warmth just by glancing towards them.  
You hugged your cardigan tighter, walking out to find the taxi stand just outside the exit area of the station, pulling out your phone to show the driver the address you’d be meaning to go to. He was a kind man, helping you put your luggage into the trunk of his taxi. Your curious eyes looked out, observing how much the town had changed over the years. 
You were seven when you last visited her hometown. Ever since then, your grandma used to be the one who visited you in the city, at your place, however she did not wish to leave her town and move in with your family. You could see why she chose to stay here—the serene view, the freshness in the air, the tranquil surroundings, it made the corner of your lips curl up into a smile. 
It only got wider once the driver stopped his taxi in front of your grandma’s house. It was exactly how you had remembered it to be—a small but two story house with a big veranda which was lit up by fairy lights on the big bushes. The back door connected the path towards the small pool and then yet another door linked the beach from your backyard. 
Your grandma stood by the door with the fondest smile gracing her ever so beautiful face, a few grey strands fell on her face and you couldn’t help but get out of the taxi and run towards her, capturing her in an embrace. A hearty chuckle filled the air, the scent of your favourite cookies encapsulated you, making you wonder if she had baked a batch just for you as you snuggled further, her hand patting your head exactly the way she used to do ever since you were a kid. 
“I missed you, grandma.” Your expression said it all, and she looked more than happy to usher you in the house, saying how chilly the night was and you made sure to pay the driver, thanking him for his service as you dragged the luggage in. 
A wave of nostalgia hit you as your eyes wandered off to observe each corner, but your grandma didn’t hear any of it, making sure her granddaughter was well fed and rested after the long journey. 
She spent a good while telling you embarrassing stories of your father during dinner, which you listened to with delight, sharing your own stories with zeal before you climbed up the stairs, opening the door to the room you used to use each time you stayed over as a child. 
It didn’t change, the bed was still too big for you, the windows were spotless as if it had been cleaned frequently and the scent of old books paired with a tinge of vanilla filled your senses. Your body felt calm and you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this way. 
Calling your parents, you updated them by telling you had reached safely as you walked in the balcony, feeling comfortable in a sweatshirt and cotton shorts. The night sky resembled a velvet blanket full of glistening stars. 
However, a figure clad in all black captured your attention. It was a bit beyond one in the morning, which is why it was unsettling to see someone walk in such dim lights. The stranger made his way towards your neighbouring house, making you wonder if he lived there. 
Shrugging, you sighed. Sitting at one place for hours does tire your body, so you proceed to finally get into your cozy bed, setting an alarm before your grandma comes in to check if you require anything. 
“Sweet dreams my little peanut,” your grandma smiled, closing the door behind you as you replied back with a gentle voice. 
“Sweet dreams, Gigi!” It was a nickname you used for her, she found it lovely. 
The placid atmosphere and the distant sound of waves acted as a catalyst to your sleep, and you slept soundly, not knowing that the calmness was just a start to your inevitable venture—something no one could have prepared you for. 
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You found yourself walking alongside your Gigi to visit the lady next door in the afternoon. She was a kind soul—as stated by your grandma, not to mention that she treated her like her own family, making sure to provide help whenever she could and that’s the reason why you were going to meet her. 
It wasn’t the first time; apparently you used to play in their veranda a lot as a child, which again, you didn’t remember. However, when the lady—Mrs. Sim, opened the door, the memories came rushing back to you. She was jolly, almost as if she was waiting for your arrival and soon, you were engulfed into a sweet hug. 
She called out your name in sheer excitement, leaning back to take a good look at your face, which sported a silly smile due to embarrassment. 
“Aw, love. You’ve grown into such a pretty young lady,” she gushed, ushering you both inside and into the living room area. 
“And you don’t look a day over twenty, Mrs. Sim,” you replied, not lying considering how youthful she appeared to be. 
Her smile only widened at your comment, “now, another word and I’ll be floating in the clouds,” she said, making you chuckle as you got engaged in a conversation, sipping on the cranberry juice which Mrs. Sim had so kindly offered you. 
It was decided that you’d be having lunch together, and you tried your best to help the two women in the kitchen but you were soon shoved out, saying you don’t have to do a thing and rest—that’s the purpose of your vacations. 
Which made you sit down and use your phone, scrolling through random apps and replying to all the texts. 
“Y/n!” Soon, you were called into the kitchen, and you poked your head in with a smile. 
“Yes, Gigi?” 
“Oh, peanut, can you please go upstairs and call Jake for lunch? It’s almost done.” She asked. 
You tilted your head in confusion, mind wandering back to the guy you had seen last night and you came to the conclusion that Jake might be Mrs. Sim’s son. 
You nodded, heading up the wooden staircase. Would you have to introduce yourself to him? Would it get awkward? You had no clue. 
Knocking on the door twice, you took a step back and patiently waited for the door to open and so, you tried again to no avail. You wondered if he had his headphones on, which left you with no choice but to open the door, peeking in slightly only to find the room empty. 
“Oh,” you let out, closing the door behind you for the sake of privacy. 
“He’s not in his room,” you informed Mrs. Sim. 
She sighed, serving a good portion of food for all of you, “I could have sworn he didn’t go out,” she shook her head as you three sat down. You let the elders start eating first and only then you picked up your chopsticks to do the same. 
“I haven’t seen him in a while, what’s the tough guy up to?” Your Gigi asked. 
“He’s busy enrolling himself into universities,” Mrs. Sim says, a sad smile taking over her face, “he says he doesn’t want to leave me and is aiming for nearby universities.” 
“My my, isn’t he a darling boy?” Your grandma praised while you chewed on your food, which melted right in your mouth, silently eating while hearing them converse. 
It didn’t take long for your grandma to ask them to come over for dinner the very next day, “it’s only fair that I cook for you too,” she argued when Mrs. Sim told her that she shouldn’t bother. 
This time, your grandma let you help with the cooking, and of course, you were sent to invite the Sims over for dinner. You hugged your white cardigan close to your body—the nights tend to get chilly. Walking over to the neighbouring home, you rang the bell and were greeted with the sight of Mrs. Sim, who actually dressed up for the little dinner party. 
“Oh, darling. Can you please call Jake down for dinner too?” She asked you as she was busy tidying up her own kitchen. 
“Of course,” you smiled. 
It was the second time you were heading up the stairs. This time, you were sure you’d be meeting the said boy. You found yourself standing right in front of his room yet again, gulping down your nervousness. It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to introducing yourself to new people, school made sure you knew how to do that, however, your nerves were acting up. 
With a deep breath, you knocked on the door, twice—just like the last time. The difference, however, was that the door was opened in this instance. 
The scent of an intoxicating blend of masculinity and sophistication announced his presence, undertones of musk and wood laced up, providing him a complex aura altogether. 
A tall guy with parted black hair leaned against the doorframe, eyebrow perfectly raised in question, his arms folded as his honey brown eyes with the slightest speckles of gold stared your way, his plump lips soon curling up into what seemed to be an assortment of a smile and a smirk. 
“You must be Y/n,” he stated, standing up straight, which caused his muscles to flex enough to the point it was visible in his white button up. 
You licked your lips unknowingly, moistening them up before you nodded, extending your hand for him to shake, “pleasure meeting you, Jake.” 
His eyes travelled down from your face to your hand, a low chuckle left his mouth, him opening the door and stepping out, coming closer to you as he grabbed your smaller hand in his bigger, warmer ones in a firm handshake. 
“I can see why my mom can’t stop talking about you,” he said, making you tilt your head in question, eyes never leaving his face which was captivating. 
“And why is that so?” You asked, stepping back slightly as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. 
“Because you seem to be a good girl,” he breathed, making you go still as he leaned back with the same smirk, leaving you behind, walking down the stairs. 
Now, you didn’t expect the situation to turn out this way, yet you knew that talking to him further would only cause your head to hurt. 
What even made him think about you being a good girl?
Is it your outfit? Plain, loose jeans paired with a pink top and cardigan. It’s basic enough not to be categorized so easily. 
You scoff to yourself, already hating the situation as you walk downstairs, only to find Jake with a smile that genuinely looked sweet while he talked to his mother, helping her lock the door. 
“I see you met Jaeyun,” she smiled, and you nodded, sitting alongside her, not sparing a glance at the said boy as you didn’t even know his real name was Jaeyun. 
The table was set for four, which made you sit right across from Jake, who’s demeanour had changed as he complimented your granny, who laughed at his sweetness. 
“Here, have some more,” he says, serving another portion to your grandma, who cooed at his kind conduct at the table. 
He made sure to be on his best behaviour, only in front of others but when his gaze fell towards you, a bored expression overtook his features, which no one paid attention to. 
You rolled your eyes. It hadn’t even been a whole day since you met and yet the boy made you dread his presence. He wasn’t being straight up rude per se, however his actions weren’t subtle either just like how he completely ignored your existence during the entirety of the dinner. 
He offered to clean up, which included him having to clean up your plate as well, which was something he did with a frown on his face as Mrs. Sim endorsed that he should help with the household work. 
Both ladies were in awe of how well mannered Jake was, and it left you irritated to no end before Mrs. Sim called out your name softly. 
“Jake’s been acting distant lately,” she told you in a soft voice, making sure the said boy doesn’t hear you both, “and comes home late from his part time work, doesn’t share a lot these days too,” she sighs before looking at you softly, “you’re such a lovely girl, Y/n. I’m sure Jaeyun would love to have you as a friend he can rely on. Will you please look after him?” She asked, eyes sincere with worry for her son. 
Now, you were provided with two choices—one to say yes and agree, but you’d have to be in Jake’s proximity for that. The second one would be a plain no, which would sound disrespectful and insolent. 
So you put on your most convincing smile, which turned into an unadulterated one when you saw her being concerned about her son, “of course, I’ll do that, Mrs. Sim.”
“Oh please! Call me auntie,” she swatted her hand at your formal usage of name and you laughed, agreeing. 
Since the dinner was summed up now and the dishes were done, courtesy of Jaeyun; you were asked to walk them back home, which wasn’t even a two minute walk, however you couldn’t say no to your grandma and hence, you agreed. 
Mrs. Sim—or your auntie Sim, thanked you for the dinner, and proposed to at least have one meal of the day together each day, which you thought was a lovely idea given that you had grown to like the lady. 
You were just about to leave when she went inside but a firm grip on your wrist stopped you right away, making you look up at Jake in question. 
“You don’t have to bother being my friend, you’ll only be a hindrance in my way,” he says smoothly. 
Your expression turns sour, almost as if you were bored, “why? So you can keep your fake good boy persona up and going?” You said, mimicking his tone. 
Not expecting such a reply, he let out a surprised scoff, mixed with the slightest chuckle, “so what? It doesn’t concern you. Or are you offended that I’m not actually good, like you,” he whispered, leaning close, which made you realize how tall he actually was, “you know nothing about me, princess.”
The nickname rolled off his tongue seamlessly, sending a shiver down your spine while you kept a straight face, trying not to seem affected at all. 
“Neither do you know about me, Sim. So stop making assumptions and just because I’m nice doesn’t mean I’ll take your bullshit.” You rolled your eyes, saying it all in one go before turning around to leave. 
“You should be scared of me,” he chuckles behind you. 
“In your dreams,” you retorted, not sparing him another glance as your heart palpitated. 
You had never talked to anyone in such a manner before, it gave a sense of newfound confidence—which you needed.
Jake simply watched you walk back to your place, shaking his head once you disappeared from his eyesight and still, a humorous smile never left his face. 
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You had updated your parents about your three days here and later called your friend to do the same, who was also busy with her own vacation bucket list, yet it was a refreshing talk given that you currently did not have much to do to entertain yourself. 
Which left you to grab your swimwear and go for a swim—utilizing the pool in your backyard. 
Gigi loved to sit by the pool and made sure that it was cleaned every now and then. She had gotten it cleaned right in the morning today, which also gives you an opportunity to use it. 
The sunset casted a warm glow on the calm waves of the pool, the slight breeze in the air making it serene as you immerse yourself in the water, it closing you right in, feeling like a warm hug. 
You started slowly with effortless strokes, enjoying the feeling of lukewarm water on your body. You stopped after a while, resting as you let your body float with your eyes closed. 
“Enjoying ourselves, are we now?” A voice broke your state of tranquillity, your eyes opening in a swift and the water sloshed with how fast you turned around. 
Of course, it was none other than Jake sim who sat on the pool lounge chair, arms behind his back as if he was sitting to enjoy the view. 
“The fuck are you doing here?” You breathed out in question. 
He looked at you, feigning disappointment as he leaned to look down at you, “oh, princess. Didn’t they teach you not to use such filthy words?”
His condescending tone only riled you up, “didn’t they teach you not to show up at someone’s place unannounced?” You mocked, getting out of the pool and trying to find your towel, only for you to realize he was sitting right on it. 
“I’m simply here to get cumin from your grandma, we ran out of it, you see,” he explained, not sounding sincere as he let his eyes wander all over your wet body, barely covered with your bikini. 
Your eyes, however, focused on the cigarette he took out from his pocket, making you gasp as you made your way towards him in an attempt to snatch it off his fingers.  
Nevertheless, Jake was quicker to get up, grabbing your hand which was extended and pinning it up against the wall, his body pressed up against yours, successfully making your body go still with shock. 
Yeah, you didn’t really adore your body’s fight or flight response. 
“Fuck—” your eyes widened, yet he wasn’t the one to give you even a second to complain. 
“Shh, princess. I don’t want a single bad word coming out of your mouth now, is that understood?” He asked, using his condenscending tone again. 
You could feel every ounce of confidence which you had yesterday leaving your body as you stared into his honey eyes, an unconscious slight nod betraying you.  
That satisfied him, although he didn’t bother changing his position, nor did he mind your wet body as he took out a lighter from his free hand, lighting up the flame, keeping it close to the cigarette which was pressed in between his lips. 
Your eyes were transfixed on his face, observing how swiftly he closed the lighter, stuffing it in his pocket right before he looked away, blowing smoke into the air, giving you the greatest opportunity to stare at his consummate side profile. 
He took the joint back in his fingers, returning his attention your way, “ever smoked before?” He asked, tone seemingly raspier. 
Not trusting your voice, you simply shook your head as to provide him an answer. 
He snickered, “of course you haven’t. It goes against your good girl rulebook, doesn’t it?” 
“Shut up!” Your sudden outburst of anger only humoured him, even more so when you tried to snatch the cigarette from him using your free hand to prove him wrong. 
He didn’t let it happen. 
Instead, you found yourself looking right into his eyes with his slender fingers holding your chin in place. His breath was cool with a lingering smell of mint—which was probably due to the flavour of cigarette. 
“Want it that bad now?” He raised his brows, “open your mouth,” he ordered, not giving you a second to comply, his thumb parting your lips as he desired. 
He took a drag, inhaling the smoke deeply as you gulped, you could hear your heartbeat, or maybe that was simply how aware you were of your surroundings—your proximity with Jake. 
Tilting his head, he leaned in again, mouth parted just the right amount. He let the smoke out and into your mouth in an agonizingly slow fashion, his lips on the verge of touching yours. 
Your subconscious took over once you inhaled the smoke and it hit your throat. The burning sensation caused you to push him off as you coughed out in distress. 
“Guess you can’t handle it, princess,” he clicked his tongue in disappointment. 
You glared his way, composing yourself enough to actually snatch the cigarette from his fingers and take a deep puff, ignoring the way it burned your throat. It was your turn to surprise him by pulling him closer, grabbing his collar. 
Your eyes were closed when you leaned in, blowing the smoke right into his mouth, causing him to take it all in, him never once closing his eyes. He stared at you with such intensity that you could feel it, despite your eyes being closed. 
Once you were done, you breathed deeply, throwing the cigarette on the ground, “don’t get ahead of yourself, Sim,” that’s all you said before walking back into your home, rushing up the stairs and into your room just to avoid running into him again. 
Only when you were in the safety of your room, you let out a frustrated scream right into your pillow. 
Three days in your vacation and this boy had already driven you insane to the point you had smoked right into his mouth. 
You took a warm shower before taking a nap—something you required to calm your heart before you saw him at dinner, again. 
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In contrast to yesterday, when he didn’t provide you with an ounce of attention, his behaviour had done a solid one eighty as now, he provided you with his utmost attention, passing you subtle smirks during the entirety of the dinner. 
You were more than glad when auntie Sim distracted you by indulging in random conversations, and you can easily say you enjoyed the information she was providing you with at the given moment. 
“And, and!” Auntie Sim said full of excitement, “Our Jaeyunie was four and you were three when it happened. He was so curious about you playing on the beach building sandcastles alone, he wanted to talk to you and so he collected flowers from our garden and gave them to you,” she cooed. 
You looked at the boy, surprised with the information of him being a sweet baby. Now, he was the one who tried to stop his mother from spilling the stories any further, averting his gaze but you didn’t let it go. 
“Aw! That’s so cute Jaeyunie. Where are my flowers now?” You asked, voice annoyingly high to bother him. 
Your grandma laughed as auntie Sim only urged Jake to get some for you. He looked your way, annoyed and you only passed him a sweet smile. 
You couldn’t deny, being a menace did feel good at times and the dinner wasn’t so bad after all. 
Yet, the events of the evening didn’t let you sleep, causing you to walk on the balcony yet again and you couldn’t miss the figure clad in all black leaving your neighbour’s home yet again, at two after midnight nonetheless. 
It wasn’t something you should be indulging in yet you couldn’t help but wonder.
What exactly was Jake up to? 
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In these ten days of vacation, you had done quite a few things which included learning a few recipes with your grandma, bickering with your neighbour, minus the proximity as you made your mission to stay away for the sake of your poor heart. Majorly, you had grown to adore the beautiful beach which was right behind your home. 
Seeing how you had nothing to do in the given moment, you found yourself sitting on the warmth of the sand yet again, close enough for your feet to touch the water which was cold, juxtaposing the temperature of your body.  
You didn’t know how long you sat there dazed, watching the never ending blue waves stretching as far as possible, till you gasped and got taken back into reality once a hand on your shoulder shook you in annoyance. 
It was none other than Jake, who stood there with his jaw clenched, a bouquet of flowers resting in his right hand, causing you to raise your brows at him. 
“Mom forced me to do this, okay?” He huffed, handing you over the multicoloured bundle of happiness. 
It didn’t matter that it was Jake who gave you the flowers, it still made you happy, a smile growing on your face as the scent infiltrated your senses. 
This certainly wasn’t the kind of reaction Jake was expecting from you. He was sure you’d throw a snarky remark or maybe simply not take the flowers from him, but even you couldn’t deny the beauty of nature. 
“Thank you,” you whispered under your breath, surprising him even more. 
It was one of the days you felt calm, not wanting to channelize your energy into something as useless as picking up a fight, however, Jake won’t leave without that happening. 
“That’s it? You just need flowers to shut up?” He tantalizes you to answer back. 
You only give him a sour look in return, wondering what he’s even doing on the beach wearing shoes, clad in leather jacket as if he was going for the cliché illegal races you see in movies. 
“You should go, Jaeyunie,” you nodded with a fake smile. 
Your phone started ringing just then, and Jake caught the display name right before you picked up the call. 
It was Lee Heeseung—the guy who was your study partner in school and also the guy who was your competition when it came to academics. 
The call wasn’t long, he had simply contacted you to inform you about the university he got into as you also filled him up with the university you got accepted into. 
You assumed that Jake would have gone back, which wasn’t the case as he stood behind you, eavesdropping shamelessly. His expression turned into one of realization when he saw you actually smiling and talking sweetly to whoever was the guy who had called you, a scoff leaving his mouth on its own accord. 
“Yeah! Yeah, of course. Will text you later, goodbye!” You smiled, concluding the conversation only to find Jake still standing at the same spot, making you look at him in question. 
“Didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” he said, seeming bored. 
A sigh left your mouth, Jake was great at making assumptions, “why do you care?” You asked. 
“I don’t,” he replied, not missing a beat, “I should go, I have work to do,” he said, walking back to his place. 
Your lips worked before you could process anything, “yeah? Like you do every night?” You asked. 
He stilled, turning back in a second and crouching down to your level, grabbing your nape, pulling you close to him, “don’t get involved in my matters, Y/n. I’m saying this for your own fucking good,” he seethed out, causing you to gulp, your heartbeat rising up due to the proximity again. 
“What are you up to, Jakey?” You asked teasingly, trying to diffuse the tension. 
“Nothing that concerns you, princess. I’m being serious, okay?” He held eye contact, repeating the last word again, and you nodded. 
“Okay,” you mumbled as you felt him caressing your nape gently before he got up, leaving you there wordlessly. 
You didn’t realize how hard you were clutching the flowers while watching his walking figure. The sudden mood switch made you curious, and despite him warning you, it was something you wanted to see for yourself. 
Was he in trouble? Was he caught up in illegal activities? Or was he simply out partying somewhere?
Another sigh left your lips. 
You shouldn’t get involved in his matters. 
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You got yourself involved in his matters. 
Sneaking out of your home was easy and you made sure to grab your jacket as the night got chillier than usual. All this to follow Jake. 
It was easy since he didn’t use any cars, walking towards his desired destination. It almost felt comical how you tried to tiptoe for a total of fifteen minutes, hiding in random alleyways whenever you made even the slightest noise of stepping on a pebble. 
For a second you even regretted coming out and spending so much energy on this, till you saw Jake actually stop and get inside an alleyway, which you approached exactly two minutes after he went in. 
Peeking in, you noticed how wide the way actually was, people clad in black and hoodies which hid their faces were present all over, more than thirty people you’d estimate. 
You squint your eyes to get a better focus of what they were up to, only for them to widen in realization when you found them exchanging packets and smoking what looked like drugs. Jake was also engaged in a conversation with a guy, purchasing drugs from him, which caused you to gasp slowly. 
“Looking for something, kid?” A deep, hoarse voice spoke near your ear, causing you to flinch and move away, turning around to see a guy full of tattoos smiling down at you, which disgusted you. 
“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, looking towards your right to see Jake looking your way, eyes full of shock and worry as he whispered your name under his breath, not believing that you’d actually follow him there despite him saying a firm no to you. 
Maybe he was right, maybe you shouldn’t have come here. 
“Uhm, I—I lost my way back home. I’ll get going now, I didn’t see anything I promise! You guys please continue,” you said, trying to sprint but the guy was quick to hold your jacket, making you stop as Jake rushed your way, leaving whatever he was up to. 
Before anyone could take up any action, the sound of police sirens alerted everyone in the vicinity, which was more than enough for all the guys to scramble as you stood there with panic, trying to move your body seeing how the guys were climbing up the wall full of graffiti on the other side as it was the only way to their escapade. 
“Run,” Jake breathed out, grabbing your smaller hand in his without any notice and running towards the same way, his jaw was clenched. 
You followed wordlessly, mouth open with how deeply you were breathing, chest heaving up and down while you ran and reached the wall. 
The sirens got closer as if someone had tipped the cops to search this particular area and you were worried if you both would get caught up in this mess. 
“Jump,” he commanded and you stared at the wall, shaking your head. 
“I—I can’t,” you stuttered, watching how the others claimed it 
He pulled you closer, picking you up with ease as to provide you with some kind of elevation, which definitely helped when you grabbed on to the top brick, pushing your body up and jumping to the other side, stumbling slighting as you fell down. 
Jake was swift, landing by your side before he grabbed your hand again, pulling you up with him to run again. Your legs hurt yet you didn’t stop till he pulled you by his side, getting a bobby pin out of his pocket to unlock the door, which he opened in a go and pulled you inside, locking the door. 
Silence. 
Your breathing is all you could hear, but Jake’s eyes were louder than anything else, which scared you even further. 
“I specifically told you to stay out of it, what’s so hard to understand here?” He more or less shouted, pushing you against the wall. 
You gulped, not looking at his face but he wasn’t having it, he grabbed your chin and forced you to look his way. 
“What if they did something to you? What if the police caught you? What if something had happened to you?” His voice got smaller after each sentence, more breathy and desperate, making your heart break when he genuinely made it seem like he cared about you. 
“I’m sorry,” you muttered, which probably wasn’t helpful at the given second, “I thought that you were in trouble and,” you whispered, not having more to say. 
He sighed, resting his forehead on yours as his eyes closed to get some rest. You couldn’t move, your whole body felt more alive than ever, maybe it was the adrenaline rush, or simply Jake being so close to you. 
He stepped back after a few seconds, “go change,” he said, and that’s when you looked around to find yourself in a boutique full of clothes. 
“W—why?” You asked. 
“Because the cop saw us, he knows what we’re wearing,” he answered, trying to find clothes his size. 
Maybe he saw you when you were climbing up, meaning that you barely escaped him. 
“But surveillance cameras? Technically, won’t this be considered stealing?” You bit your lip. 
“There are none,” he replied, “and we have more pressing matters than to sit and worry about stealing.”
You nodded even though he wasn’t looking your way, trying to find some outfit, or rather, you were stealing it given the circumstances. 
“So, why were you out there?” 
“I should be asking you that, Y/n,” he said when you went into the changing room. 
“You had drugs with you!” Your voice boomed from the stall and he simply took off his shirt in the store. 
“So what?” He uttered, pissed. 
“Did you smoke drugs that day too? Did you give me drugs?” You screeched while asking and he opened the curtains, seeing you soothing the top down. 
“I don’t fucking do drugs,” he groaned, “I buy it and sell it to the guys next town at a higher price,” he explained. 
The dim light from the changing stall only enhanced Jake’s shirtless body, his abs full on display alongside his torso, which was well built. Your eyes settled on the tattoo he had on his left side of the rib. 
Taking a step further, your fingers gently traced the intricate design, making him shiver without you knowing, his fingers clasping around your wrist to keep it away again. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” He whispered. 
“I—” you started speaking, looking at him with wide eyes which shone of innocence and worry, lips jutted in the slightest pout and hair slightly messy. 
“You’re driving me crazy,” he breathes out, not letting you complete your sentence, coming closer to your face, “why do you have to do everything I tell you not to do?” He asked, however his tone wasn’t filled with anger. 
It was something you quite couldn’t pinpoint yourself. 
He sighed, “let’s get you home.”
“Are we gonna walk back? Isn’t it too dangerous?” You asked as he turned around to put on a shirt averting your eyes from his back which flexed with his movements, your body felt warm and throat parched, especially when he turned around with a smirk. 
“We’re driving back home.”
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You soon found yourself on a lookout at the garage entrance of what Jake called an illegal garage which was used for repairing old racing cars. The place wasn’t authorized, which is why stealing from here would work perfectly. 
“How do you even know this?” You asked, exasperated as your nerves got the best of you. 
It certainly didn’t help that the place was dark, and Jake wasn’t replying as he was hot wiring the car without a number plate 
You had no idea where he learned that from. 
“You need to learn things if you want to survive in this world, darling,” he said, focusing on his work, not once thinking how you’d shiver with his use of nicknames. 
He’s glad it’s not some new high tech car, which he won’t be able to hot wire as they contain ignition immobilizers, which makes it impossible for it to happen—you nodded as he explained all of this, your focus elsewhere. 
“Let’s go,” he said after a few minutes, seemingly done with his work. 
You rushed to get into the car, a scream leaving your mouth as he started driving almost instantly, his fingers gripping the steering wheels hard enough for his veins to pop out as you struggled to put on the seatbelt. 
“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you let out in half a scream. 
“Why? Not having fun now, princess?” He chuckled as he changed the gear, resting his hand on your thighs right after which caused you to squirm around in your seat. 
Your body was extra attentive when he was around, and you weren’t sure how to control your heart anymore, so you closed your eyes. 
“What’s so fun about this?” You asked, clutching the seatbelt. 
“You,” he confessed, messing up with your brain even further. 
“I hate you,” you mumbled, looking elsewhere. 
You didn’t trust his driving despite it seeming effortless, he was over speeding after all. 
“Now, we both know that’s not true, princess,” he stated and you huffed, knowing that he was right ignoring the fact that he was insufferable. 
His pace ensured you to reach home in record time, your legs felt wobbly the second you stepped on the road. 
“Stay here, I’ll be back in a second,” he rushed, leaving you standing alone as he parked the car outside a random garage two minutes away from your place. 
It was hard to believe how you got chased by police, stole clothes and a fully functional car all in one night. 
You saw him jogging back to you after a few minutes, standing right in front of you, “I think I should get back now,” you started to stay, however he stopped you. 
“You can’t do that, your gate’s got a surveillance camera so we need to go from the back side,” he stated, his hand automatically reaching for yours as you started to make way towards the back side, on the sand. 
All of a sudden, you felt smaller, heat creeping up your neck due to the body contact and you let him guide you wordlessly before you realized something. 
“Wait, how will you go back? Your place doesn’t have a back door,” you asked and he shrugged. 
“I’ll just jump to the other side of the garden wall, princess. You don’t need to worry about me,” he teased and you pushed him away, the warmth of his hand leaving yours. 
Tiptoeing into your home, you shut the back door as silently as possible before you rushed up the stairs and almost into your room, only to find Jake coming up with you. 
“What are you doing?” You whisper asked, eyes wide. 
“I’m curious about your room,” he answered with that usual smirk of his and you wanted nothing more than to slap it off his face. 
“You—” you tried to say, but stopped the second you heard another voice. 
“Oh, Peanut? You’re awake?” Your grandma’s voice called out from the balcony, and your mouth hung open as you shoved Jake into your room in an effort to hide him. 
“Y—yes, Gigi! I woke up to get some water,” you lied, wincing slightly as she acknowledged it and wished you a good night in her soft tone. 
You rushed in and locked the door, only to find Jake getting cozy in your bed. 
It was one of those days when your grandma missed your grandpa, and she spent hours on the balcony, looking at the glistening stars to find solace. You felt sad but the more pressing matter here was—how to get Jake out of your room? 
He can’t leave from the back door, he can’t go out from the front door as Gigi would see him, your room windows weren’t the opening type which left you with no option but for him to spend the night right here, with you. 
“Now what?” You asked, hand on your forehead while you paced around the room. 
“What? We sleep together, of course.” He had a cheeky smile on his face. 
“Are you crazy?” You almost screamed, but you didn’t wanna alert your grandma, which made you repeat it in a hushed tone.
“Why? Too scared to sleep with me? You’re the reason we’re in this situation, princess,” he smirked. 
You sighed. He was right about that part but you weren’t willing to sleep with him, so you proceeded to ignore him as you went into the bathroom to change into your comfortable clothes for the night. 
Jake simply patted the bed when you came out, silently asking you to sit next to him, and suddenly you realized that you’re locked up in a room with him, which didn’t help your nerves as you sat down with him. 
Somehow everything was rebellious against your rules when it concerned Sim Jaeyun. 
“Can’t you sleep on the floor?” You almost whined. 
He cocked his brow, “is that what I get after helping you escape?”
“That’s not it—”
“So? Is it the boyfriend?”
“I don’t have any—”
“The guy you were talking to in the morning.”
“He’s a friend—”
“Then there’s no problem, right?” he rasped. 
You didn’t realize your lip was bitten till his thumb brushed against your bottom lip, tugging on it gently to free it, caressing it while looking into your eyes. 
“Right?” He repeated. 
“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding ever so slightly. 
“Atta girl,” he chuckled, flustering you as you tried to look away, which wasn’t something Jake allowed, his fingers gripping your chin now, “god, you look so fucking innocent.”
“I’m not!” You argued. 
“Yeah? Have you been kissed before, princess?” He asks, amused. 
His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine, to the point you almost whimpered out loud, but you were glad you didn’t, “no. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t fucked anyone before.” You confessed, eyes on his plump lips. 
“Oh? Who’s the loser who fucked you without even kissing your prettiest lips?” He asked, frustrated that someone even dared to touch you, even though his words said otherwise. 
You gulped, “we were drunk,” you whispered, remembering your graduation party and how the guy had failed to please you. 
“Did he make you feel good?” Jake asked, expression serious. 
“What?” You were surprised by his question. 
He wasted no time in pulling you to his lap, your gasp only made him smirk wider, his hands resting on your waist, squeezing it lightly. 
“Did he satisfy you, princess?” His voice was an octave deeper, giving you goosebumps. 
“H—he didn’t,” you stutter, which pissed him further, his jaw tensed. 
“So you’re telling me that some asshole was deep inside you and didn’t even bother making you feel good?” He scoffed. 
“Jake—”
“Y’know what I would have done instead?” He asked, caressing your cheek, his thumb resting on your lips right after, “I’d kiss your lips till you get obsessed with mine.” his hooded eyes lured you in. 
His fingers travelled down to your neck, rubbing circles just above your clavicle, “I’d kiss you till my lips memorize every inch of your body, till your mind goes blank,” he whispers, biting your earlobe. 
You breathe in deeply, a whimper leaving your mouth, Jake’s name rolling off your tongue in a whisper right after, making him groan in response. 
“I’d ruin you, princess,” he breathes, eyes meeting yours. 
“Please.” You struggled to breathe, his pointy nose brushing against yours, lips threatening to kiss. 
“Say it,” he urged you, pulling your body impossibly closer on his lap. 
There was no denying that Jake made you lose every sense of rationality and morals in you, it almost felt as if you were intoxicated in his presence, your heart raced, thumping faster than ever, urging you to say yes. 
“Please ruin me, Jake,” you whispered, giving in and looking at him with innocent eyes. 
“That’s a good girl.” 
He was swift to push you down on the mattress, getting on top of you with hungry eyes to the point you almost felt as if you were a prey, and you liked it. 
His cold chain brushed against your clavicle, making you shiver as he leaned down to press his lips against yours in a fervent kiss, a groan leaving his mouth as he finally had you so close to him. 
Your fingers held on to his shoulders desperately, he was difficult to resist, and who were you to resist such pleasure? His plush lips moulding against yours, his hand squeezing your waist as you allowed yourself to get immersed into him. 
You could feel the warmth spreading in your abdomen like wildfire, a gasp giving him the perfect opportunity to taste you, sliding his tongue down your mouth to deepen the kiss, the taste of chocolate lingering in his mouth and you let yourself moan into his lips. 
You tugged on his hair, realizing how correct he was about you being obsessed with his lips as you found yourself chasing after it when he broke the kiss, making him chuckle at your desperation. 
“So fucking pretty,” he muttered, staring at your slightly swollen lips, which glistened with the mixture of your spit. 
He wasn’t the one to waste time, his tongue licking your neck, placing kisses all over it, causing you to squirm and pant till he found the spot which had you rolling your eyes with sheer pleasure. 
Placing a hand over your mouth to silence your moans, he felt a feeling of possessiveness take over him. You looked so fucked out and he hadn’t even done anything to you yet, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he sees someone else with you. 
The mere thought had him biting and sucking on your skin in an attempt to mark the very spot which had you shivering and your toes curling. He slipped his other hand inside your flimsy tee, and in your bra, feeling your hardened nipples which he flicked between his fingers. 
Your body felt more awake than ever, each touch of his getting a reaction out of you, “so responsive, have you been waiting for this, princess?” 
You could only nod in desperation, trying your best to keep your moans at bay, not wanting to alert your grandma. He kissed your cheek before he got up to get rid of his own clothes, giving you a few seconds to stare at his faint abs, highlighted by the dim lights along with his tattoo, which you so desperately wanted to kiss. 
The image of you looking his way with such big eyes, chest heaving up and down only ignited the carnal feeling of him wanting to be deep inside you. 
It all felt new to you, being aware and not drunk this time, however it wasn’t just that—Jake made you feel this way, your thighs closing when you felt a fluttering sensation down your abdomen. 
“Undress,” he ordered. 
“What—”
“Undress for me, darling,” his words were smoother than the melted butter, making you work upon it instantly. 
His eyes were fixated on your figure the entire time you took to get your clothing off, feeling shy under his gaze, not to mention the outline of his cock in his boxers intrigued you even further. 
“Fuck, you’re all mine,” he said under his breath. 
His plush lips were soon on your tits, his other hand fondling and caressing your nipple while he worked his tongue, swirling it ever so perfectly before giving it a soft bite, making you arch your back as you bit on your discarded clothes, tears forming in your eyes with these euphoric sensations. 
He’s giving you all you could ask for and you? You’re a mess with your lipstick smudged and ragged breathing. Just when you thought that Jake couldn’t get you anymore wilder, he stuffed his hand down your wet panties, which brushed against your extremely sensitive clit. Even biting your clothes couldn’t stop a moan coming out of your mouth. 
“You like it, baby? That’s my good girl. So pretty and wet all for daddy, yeah? Daddy’s gonna taste you now, princess,” his spoke, his accent deep. 
“Daddy?” you asked, whimpering right after when his lips touched your bare pussy, pressing a kiss on your clit. 
There was something in the way he addressed himself so confidently which made you want to submit yourself to him fully, only pushing yourself deeper into sub space as he worshipped every inch of your body. 
“That’s right, baby,” he spoke against your, sending waves of pleasure through your body as his strong hands held your thighs open. 
Obscene noises of him licking and sucking resonated the room as you bucked up your hips unconsciously, desperate for friction, making his cock twitch while he licked languid strokes up and down your cunt, his hot breath fanning your folds, wishing to hear you moan despite the circumstances. 
“Shh, princess. We don’t want your grandma to know now, do we?” He smirked. 
Your hand slithers into Jake’s hair, tugging on it as you convulse in pleasure, letting him continue his ministrations on your leaking pussy, his lips soft unlike his actions, which were rushed and aimed at your pleasure. 
Your eyes roll back, arousal reaching its peak at the unadulterated pleasure as you repeated his name when he moved down to shove his tongue into your cunt, lapping at your juices when you reach your orgasm. 
Yet he doesn’t stop, inserting his slender finger in your tight hole, pumping it in and out gently at first while you whine and he gets up, wetness coating his lips. He lets you taste yourself by kissing you yet again, his fingers entertaining your cunt. 
Your breaths are heavier, louder and you can’t wait to have his cock shoved into you. You weren’t the one to have lewd thoughts in general yet here you were, moaning into Jake’s mouth, clenching around his two fingers which thrusted into you at a newfound speed. 
“Yes, daddy! Yes, oh god,” you mumbled to yourself, letting the lust consume you. 
His fingers curled inside you before he decided that you were ready for his cock. 
“Let’s see how desperate you are, beg for daddy’s cock,  princess,” he demanded. 
Now that his cock was in view, you stared at it dumbfounded. It was veiny and stood hard and leaking, the tip was red and ready to fuck you dumb, it pushed you over the edge. 
“Please, daddy? I’ll be a good girl for y—you please fuck me?” A tear left your eye, tainting your image even further which aroused Jake as a sadistic smile overtook his face. 
You continued to beg him, and he gave you no warning as he lined his tip on your entrance, coating it with your juices, almost pushing it all in but instead, he gave you just the tip, which made you beg out of frustration. 
“Tell me about your darkest fantasies,” Jake teased, seeing you pout and whine, “do it baby, only then you’ll get this cock into you.”
You were going crazy, “I—I want to be fucked awake,” you confessed, hiding your face. 
“Is that so? How cute,” he commented, pulling your body flush. 
Within a second, he thrusted into you sharply, your wet juices acting as the perfect lube to suck his cock right in as he bottomed out fully, cussing at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. 
You could feel the imprint of his dick on your lower abdomen, and he pressed on it with a proud smirk, only to make you whimper lowly, your voice quivering with deep he was in you, “big—so big.”
You laid beneath Jake in such a way that the sight was captivating for him, your vulnerability paired with his ignited primal hunger. 
He firmly wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling out slightly before he thrusted into you again as you were clinging onto him. 
He had never found anyone like you before, it was as if you were the only one for him, the one who reacts to his touch in such ways, the one who drives him insane to the point he has to rile you up just to get you to talk to him. 
His slow thrusts soon turned into relentless, pleasure inducing thrusts, and you found yourself bucking your hips up to meet him, helping him reach deeper spots in you, his tip hitting your g-spot. 
Choked moans escaped your lips, reaching the point of complete incoherence as you got drunk in the intensity of Jake’s presence, your senses overwhelmed as he fucked you without any interruptions. 
“Daddy—please!”
Sensing that you were close, he thrusted harder, twitching inside your pussy, his lips capturing yours as you both cried out, reaching your climax in harmony, breathing in deeply before he filled you up with his warm cum, which mixed with your own juices. 
“Fuck,” you breathed out, causing him to laugh and pull you in a sweet kiss. 
You could see the clear switch in his demeanour when he cleaned you up, asking gentle questions about how you felt or if he went overboard. 
He was perfect. 
Something had changed in the air, and you both were aware of it, but rather than verbalising it, you slept in each other’s arms, Jake staying up a few minutes just to see your peaceful face. 
“Good night, princess.”
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Jake woke up early despite not getting enough sleep, still not believing that he fucked you—the prettiest girl he swore he’d ever laid eyes on. 
And he was sure to make your desires come true. 
You wore nothing but his shirt to sleep, which made your pussy accessible to him, his fingers playing with your folds ever so gently as he didn’t wish to wake you up, not this soon at least. 
He continued to do so for a remarkably long time, smiling each time he saw you stir in your sleep, his lips leaving kisses on your neck and shoulder blades till you were fully wet for him. 
Jake was shocked when you revealed that you were into somnophilia, but who was he to deny his girl some pleasure?
His other hand was busy taking care of his raging boner, seeing you dressed in his shirt, your scent mixed with his only drove him crazy. 
His grip on your thighs was firm when he straddled you, pumping his cock a few times before he pushed it in you with a few thrusts, the stretch being enough to wake you up with a whimper, your state disoriented but the second you realized that Jake was making your wish actually come true, you moaned. 
His dick throbbed inside you and you were still not over last night’s adventure as curse words filled the air, along with the mist of your unholy activities and fervent longing as he thrusted with a groan, kissing and nibbling on the skin of your neck. 
You were sure you had bruises forming on your clavicle by now, which also extended down your breasts and inner thighs, Jake being particular about having you marked through and through. 
You could only sigh and plead for more, beg for more, the word daddy coming out of your mouth effortlessly, which was effective to the point it made Jake fuel with desire as he provided you with the most overwhelming, ecstasy filled orgasm, him coming all over your pussy, pulling out this time. 
“I like you,” he revealed all of a sudden, his smile the epitome of boyishness which made you chuckle with your newfound happiness. 
That’s one good way to wake up in the morning. 
“Guess what, Sim. I like you too,” you confessed, growing shy by the last word and he pulled you in a sweet hug, swinging your body along his, your laughter filling up the room. 
You gasped, looking at him with wide eyes.  
You had forgotten to help him escape without your grandma knowing. 
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The escape was successful, and so were your holidays which were nearing. Your sadness was apparent on your face, having no desire to go back leaving your grandma and aunt Sim. 
More importantly, Jake. 
It has become a routine for him to slip into your room ever so professionally to sleep with you—some nights you did sleep, other nights he gave you every reason to be awake. 
Which also served as a solid reason for Jake to stop indulging in the so called drug trade, one instance of almost being caught was enough for you both, not that you were involved in the first place. 
He opened up to you, actually acting like a goof at times, juxtaposing his usual bad boy demeanour. He provided you with the best of both worlds. 
Your feelings for the guy you used to find annoying were increasing at record speed per day, and now that it was finally one day before you’d leave, you couldn’t help but be bothered by Jake’s absence. 
He’s always around, which made you wonder where and what he was up to, especially when you wanted nothing more than to spend your time in his arms, lip quivering at the thought that he might not wish to see you anymore.
However, that wasn’t the case when he showed up in the doorway, huffing and hair messy as if he was running. 
“Jaeyun,” you whispered, letting him pull you in the comfort of his warm arms. 
“I’m coming,” he breathed, making you look at him with wide eyes. 
“What?” You blinked, almost stuttering. 
“I’m coming to Seoul with you, princess. I got into the same university,” he chuckled as you snatched the envelope from him, jumping with excitement as tears filled your eyes, hugging him even tighter. 
You felt like your heart was going to explode with the excitement, which Jake found heartwarming. He had planned this the second he saw you and got to know you. It was a given that he wanted to be with you. 
“What about your mom?” You asked softly, realizing that she’d be alone. 
“She’s gonna stay with Gigi. Our ladies are strong women, right?” He asked, caressing your lip, which you had noticed was his habit. 
“W—when did you even apply—this is so amazing,” you went on rambling, which was something he adored, but kissing your lips to shut you up was his favourite thing, especially when he got to see your shy smile right after. 
“So, we’re gonna be together?” You questioned, shyness taking over. 
“You’re wrong if you think you’ll ever get rid of me now, princess,” he smirked, teasing you again. 
This side of him made you faux scoff, “but what if I want to get rid of you?” You challenged, knowing well you weren’t capable of that. 
He took a step closer to you, his broad smile illuminating the room, his hand resting on your waist pulling you closer, “I’d like to see you try and escape me,” he retorted. 
“You want me that much, huh?” Your smile was coy. 
He brushed your nose tip with his, making you chuckle with joy. 
“I’ll always want my princess.”
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bonny-kookoo · 6 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 🔞 | Oneshot
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"Does he even pay you?"
Tags/Warnings: Idol!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, friends with benefits situation, major angst, mentions of sex work, smoking, smut, god so much filth, Dom!Jungkook, big dick JK but what's new, did I mention angst?, protected sex, multiple rounds, multiple positions, a brief thighjob, so many feelings
Length: 7k+ words
There is no taglist for this fic. This is a Oneshot.
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"How does it feel to be a celebrity and ending up with me?" You wonder at him over the music, making him frown before he shakes his head, pulling you in by your hands he's holding.
"What're you talking about babe?" He argues softly, letting go of your hands to hold your waist now. "I've got the prettiest girl at my side, in my opinion. Can't complain whatsoever." He tells you into your ear, voice raised a bit and slightly raspy from his last smoking break.
You just shrug, enjoying the music when some people approach you, talking to Jungkook about something you don't listen in on, even though he's still holding you close. It's none of your business, you really don't want to get too involved with his work and everything around it, but it's clear that he likes to do exactly that.
Jungkook wants you around all the time. Doesn't matter if it fits the scene and situation, if he can invite you or bring you along, he will.
Fans don't know your connection to him. They constantly battle it out in comment sections that you're just a translator, nothing else, that you're staff so of course you have to travel alongside him. And just how they can seem to connect everything to dating if it fits their 'ship' they've got inside their minds, they're also talented in finding thousands of (sometimes frankly ridiculous) reasons as to why it cannot possibly be true either.
While before, someone wearing the same jewelry as Jungkook was a confirmation of a relationship, with you its just pure coincidence. You're an adult woman, you can choose whatever necklace or ring you want, that doesn't mean you're dating him. You're wearing the same t-shirt he wore just a day ago? Maybe you just own the same, or he was nice enough to lend it to you for one reason or the other. Seen near his hotel room? Well of course, you're staff!
The truth is, that you're not even staff at all- but you're also not dating him.
Jungkook has become awfully… comfortable in his trust that fans will brush off every rumor floating around. It's why he's shamelessly grabbing your tits from behind right now just for the fun of it, lips kissing your neck as you slap them off to hold your waist instead. "They'll call it AI-generated or something." He laughs, but you can't shake off the feeling of doubt about that. "And there's no one here filming anyways. It's a private VIP zone, so relax baby." He chuckles, swaying you with him to the beat.
He's right that this is a secluded zone- but that's never stopped anything ever before, did it. One random Instagram live where you're both seen in the background and it's over. For both of you.
"Let's go back to the hotel though. I'm horny as fuck." He laughs, making you roll your eyes with red cheeks to go with.
Jungkook is a shameless person- he doesn't see anything wrong with the things he says or does if they're not hurting anybody. He's got his own opinions and he stands by them, only ever shifting his stance if there's undeniable evidence of him being wrong shown to him. And he also enjoys the more physical aspects of love.
Jungkook enjoys sex to its fullest.
He used to sleep around quite often, his charm and also wealth and status enough to make the act of finding someone willing fairly easy. Most wouldn't be believed anyways if they openly said he'd slept with them- he made sure they never took pictures or god forbid videos, and he also never stayed the night, most of the time preferred the security of his own home where he could politely tell them to leave after the deed was done, his reasoning always having to do something with his work.
'I'm sorry, I got called up to the studio.'
'Fuck I forgot I had a flight early morning tomorrow.'
'I'm really sorry, ah this is awkward, but my manager just told me to a live now, and I can't have you being seen.'
You knew he did this. You were staff at some point, after all, even if not hired by his company but rather outsourced during a particularly demanding schedule and many other employees sick due to a viral infection going around in the office building.
You'd been just another victim of his. But somehow, he ended up biting down too hard- making him taste blood, Primal hunger awakened at the mind-blowing experience he'd had, an odd need to keep you just for himself having blossomed from it all. You were a keeper, you still are- and while it's not really love, it's good enough for him. Close enough.
He reminds you, regularly, that it's not love, with how he never claims to love you, avoids the topic altogether, always tells others you're just very close even when it's obvious just like tonight that you're a little too close to just be something casual. But he enjoys your presence nonetheless. Like a dear friend, just with some deeper layers to it.
Some staff call you his personal prostitute. And in a way, you do sometimes feel like that.
Jungkook is that kind of man who could have sex first thing in the morning. Doesn't even have to wake up fully- if you touch him just a bit, he'll come to life in an instant, if he's not sporting a boner already. He enjoys the exhaustion he feels afterwards, always pushes you past your first and second O, keeps his own saved up for the very last stretch all the time. He draws it out to high heavens, has trouble calling it quits.
Shower sex he's mastered, knows exactly where to step and what position to get into to make it as safe as possible. He loves having you on his large sofa, leather easy to clean after you're both done. Sixty-nine is his favorite dinner for two, though he has to admit that lately, he's been enjoying the more closer positions a lot more. Spooning from behind, lotus, you name it- you've become more than just an outlet for him.
He doesn't know what they call you behind his back. What your unofficial status is. They'd never admit that to him, because why would they? No one wants to get on his bad side if they don't have to.
He's on his phone, free hand on your thigh as you both sit in the back of the car that's driving him back to his hotel. He's gonna get out first, make his way inside, while you'll get in later from the back entrance to not raise any suspicion. It's normal. Routine. You've mastered it by now.
"I'll see you in ten." He winks before he makes his way out the car, rushing past some fans who've found out his location, bodyguards already there to guide him inside the lobby.
"Does he pay you?" The driver chuckles, and you shake your head. "Damn." The elderly man clicks his tongue. "Go find yourself an actual man, dear." He tells you as he parks behind the hotel, watching you move, your phone vibrating in your pocket, before it stops suddenly. "You know what they call you, right?"
"I know." You admit quietly.
"And you're okay with that? You're too sweet to let yourself be used like that. Have some self-worth." The man tells you with a kind tone. "I've seen you around long enough to know that you're kind, and a nice person. Trust me, you can and will find a proper man to love you right. But this?" He shakes his head. "You know he just wants you because you've become routine."
"I know." You repeat again, sighing a little.
"You're not what they say you are. You're just a little soft at heart, hm?" The old guy smiles over his shoulder, watching you unbundled your seatbelt. "Trust me, he won't be sad if you call it quits. I've worked for guys like this for more than thirty years- they'll just jump to the next." He explains, and you smile to yourself, before you nod towards the man. "Never mess with entertainers, sweetheart. They'll always break your heart." he offers.
"I know." You say once more, before you exit the car, and get on your way to Jungkook's hotel room.
You don't officially share one, but he still keeps you around for most of the night. You leave whenever he has to do a livestream or if he wants to go to bed, and you come back if he wants you to- but most nights you sleep alone, because he deems it too intimate for you to stay.
Apparently, sleeping in the same bed is more intimate than spitting on your cunt. Interesting.
When you knock on the door, Jungkook opens. Something's off, you notice it right away, but you don't dwell on it, don't answer. It's none of your business, and he won't tell you anyways, so what's the point in just further inducing his bad mood.
It's quiet as he moves around, since he doesn't talk to you, and you don't know what to say. You wait for him to make his move, and when he doesn't, you get up to grab your sweater you forgot in his room earlier, just to have him stand behind you, hands on your hips. "I didn't forget about you." He chuckles, and you let the fabric slip out of your fingers and back onto the floor as he kisses the crook of your neck.
Maybe jungkook is indeed using you. But you've started to use him just as much, if only to even out the odds, and make yourself feel more than just cheap company.
He slips out of his shirt. You raise your arms to help him take off yours, your naked skin at this point almost a requirement for him every time he takes you. He used to be satisfied with just fucking you somewhere quiet quick and simple to quench his thirst, but over the course of time now nearing an entire year, he's become more and more hungry. Like he wants to crawl underneath your skin at some point, the Idol constantly pushes himself more and more inside your body, not just in a sexual sense. He buys you clothes he thinks will look good on you, has a playlist just for when you're at his place filled with somber lovesongs more about heartbreak than anything else. He claims he didn't look up the lyrics, but you know he's lying. He knows a lot more english than he admits, just so he can pull the 'I don't understand' card whenever he's asked a question he doesn't want to answer.
He lets you wear his clothes without much comment by now, has gifted you jewelry he's worn and liked, laughs any mention of that being 'such a sweet gesture' off if anyone around him mentions it. He's not your boyfriend, but he surely is starting to act like it- maybe the lines are blurring for him just as much as they do for you?
People around you have started betting. On when he's gonna have another one, when you'll be 'swapped out' for something else, or at what point he's gonna make it official that you're indeed more than just nightly company. You don't await that day. It's never gonna come anyways.
"Turn around." He commands, and you do, because that's the easiest way to get where you want to be down the line. Head empty, no thoughts left, fucked stupid by a man who keeps you around for just your body and the familiarity you provide. You don't really mind any longer, long having stopped caring about emotions that are fruitless, bound to rot and die because Jungkook won't ever nurture anything you'd try and plant in his heart. He doesn't want it, and doesn't need it either- if he wants to feel loved, he just has to show his face to his millions of fans always on edge for more content. That's where he gets his love from. Maybe you're just there to feed other desires he can't have fulfilled like that.
He licks his lips as he gazes over your naked upper body, bra long undone by his hands on your back, fingers trained in the routine by now. You remember the surprise he'd shown you when you'd worn one with the clasp up front, face so soft and round for just a second that it felt like you'd just slipped into a dream- but his hunger had quickly returned, because Jungkook is a beast never satisfied. He craves more and more, constantly aims for absolute euphoria, never soft, never gentle.
Jungkook bites. He claims, grips, holds and pushes- he's aware over the physical strength he holds over you, and plays around with the fact almost every night. From tugging on your leg to pushing your head down whenever you decide to please him with your mouth instead for once. Something about the way you swallow around him and swirl your tongue always makes him feral, thighs trembling as the muscles spasm beneath the skin from the force of his orgasm. Maybe that's why he keeps you around. Because you can keep up.
His own shirt is shed, and his hands make quick work of his belt before he helps you out of your pants as well. He'd told you he didn't want to use the bed tonight, because asking for new sheets is always awkward, but he does it anyways- picks you up just to let you fall onto the bed, crawling over you. "What do you want?" You ask out of breath, but he just tilts his head in familiar habit, until it shakes no.
"Don't know yet." He answers. This is new.
Usually he always has a fixed scene set out, knows how he wants to take you right away, but this time he visibly seems unsure where to start. Almost like the first time.
He spits in his hand, doesn't bother taking off the rings, fingers working you up like it's second nature. He knows where to place them, how to move and what patterns to choose- and you don't bother thinking about the possible reason for it. Probably to get you wet and ready quick so he can get to the actual act itself, or maybe he just finds some sort of personal satisfaction from it. You're not sure- and neither do you really want to ask.
You're a little cold, but he'll warm you up soon. Hopefully you won't get sick like last time. Will he find someone else to fuck if you're unavailable?
Who knows. He surely has a lot to choose from, if he so much as asked.
He's got a question on his mind, but visibly contemplates on asking it. His teeth clamp down on his bottom lip, tongue playing with the twin piercings placed there for a second, before he leans in, kisses you. This is one of those things he does that are just outright cruel to you. His kisses full of fever and want feel so burning hot that you're sure you're marked by them for life. Like a signature he's inked underneath your skin almost he claims you again and again like this, with his tongue teasing yours, mouths open and ready to steal each other's breath.
He surely takes yours hostage, every time- and that's probably the smallest crime he commits.
"Have you eaten today?" He asks, and it catches you off guard, eyes opening again, painfully tugged back into reality where he lets his sticky hand run over your abdomen, just to settle on your hipbone. "Your stomach keeps growling." He teases, and you come crashing down. Of course. He'd never actually remember to ask that out of the blue if it wasn't for something reminding him about it.
"Not really." You respond, adjusting your position a little bit, legs trying to pull him closer. "Doesn't matter." You say, and he hums, leaning down again to mouth at your neck- probably marking his territory again, a joke made on a constant whenever you turn up with the blooming bruises on your skin, their origin more than obvious.
"Hm." He hums, almost dissatisfied, but you don't bother to think about it. He moves to lean off the side of the bed, pulling his suitcase closer to get himself a condom, opening the package easily before he rolls it over his length. He seems oddly soft tonight, in more ways than one. Is he still exhausted from the shooting? Could be. He never wants to admit himself that he has to take breaks, thinks that his body can just magically manifest strength from nothing but pure thought, and it used to irritate you, because you felt responsible, in a way. But that was when you still saw more in this than there actually was- nowadays, it's his business, not yours. He's got nutritionists and personal trainers who get paid for taking care of him. It's not your job.
What is your job, really?
Well, you're most certainly not working under his company any longer, and neither have you returned to your original agency either- simply because Jungkook's management deemed you too much of a danger in your position, after the idol had let it slip that you two were having sex on a regular basis. So you just signed an NDA, got paid for your silence, now earning a living by writing books. Modern fantasy novels, where the daydreams you once had can actually become reality, and your hopes and wishes can be dreamed of by other people who have the same.
It's good money. A hobby you cherish.
Jungkook has never asked you what you work as nowadays. He doesn't even visit your apartment, has never seen it before, and he doesn't know if you have family either. He just takes you as his, lets you live alongside him and entertains you whenever he's in the mood for it. And you let him, because these days, he's all you've got. There's not much else you can do than write all day at home or accompany him on his overseas schedules.
You're not sure why he always drags you along, when back home, he won't even call you for days. Maybe he doesn't have to? Maybe his bed at home is always warm. But if that's the case, why not take them on a trip once in a while? Does he have designated women for specific occasions?
Then who will the woman be he chooses to show to the public one day? Number three in his harem?
You can't even truly blame him. As someone he grew up in this industry, his view on the world is warped, shifted, not the same colors as yours. He doesn't feel the same worth in a simple banknote that you do, he can't understand the struggle of missing the bus or having to face an empty fridge.
"Sit up, baby." He tells you, chuckles when you struggle a little to do so- compared to him, flying around all the time actually does take a toll on you. And the petname doesn't make it any better in this moment, as his hands reach out to hold you steady, helping your legs over his thighs, before he guides the head of his cock into you. He wants you close tonight it seems like. Hopefully he keeps holding you, because you're not very energetic this time. "I've got you." He says, and you nod, resting your arms around his neck, hands faintly touching the skin of his back. "Are you cold?" He wonders.
"A bit." You respond. He's probably noticed your icy fingertips.
"I'll warm you up." He purrs, and you nod. You know he will. He always does- always hot hearted in everything he does, even in this. He holds you close, hands on your behind helping you move, your hips rolling a bit too slow for his liking, but he overlooks it for once. You're not sure what's up with him tonight. This isn't him. "You tired, baby?" He wonders, and you nod.
"Sorry." You tell him, but he shakes his head, moves to lay you down, knees pressed into the soft hotel bed mattress as he thrusts his hips forwards.
"It's alright." He brushes it off. "Flight was long as hell." He muses, lazily moving himself. You're enjoying this, even if it's odd for him to behave this way. "Wanna come over for breakfast tomorrow morning?" He asks, and you shake your head.
"Can't." You sigh, arms now moving to lay above your head, eyes closed in bliss. "I fly out back home at 8 tomorrow." You remind him, and you can't see the way his brows lower, face darkening as he realizes he didn't know that. You usually fly back after him. Why are you going home sooner this time?
"Why?" He huffs out, hands grabbing your legs as he pulls your thighs over his, pushing himself deeper now. "You always fly after me." He almost growls.
"I dunno.." You slur. "Management said." You just respond. Why does he seem so irritated by this? It's not a huge deal at all if you fly back sooner or later. He's not gonna call you up back home anyways, so why does it bother him so much.
"Management can go fuck themselves." He argues. "You fly after me. I'll book the flight myself if I have to." he demands practically, slight irritation causing him to have his energy boil up, position adjusted as he becomes more restless, balls smacking loudly against you cunt, pace a lot more ruthless now.
You're finally reaching it. Your head becomes fuzzy.
You don't notice Jungkook becoming almost.. satisfied from that sight of your tension finally leaving. You're nothing but whimpers of pleasure as he slips out of you, hands tugging and pushing your legs and body to have you on your side, the taller Idol now laying down on his side behind you to spoon you, dragging the head of his length through your soaked and slicked up folds. one hand holds up your thigh, helps in opening you up, though you're pretty much gaping from his girth stretching you out moments prior. His lips find your shoulder, your neck, as he pushes himself back inside with the help of your hands-
who suddenly do something new as well, tugging the condom from his cock, making him gasp out in sensitivity. "What're you doing?" He grows.
"IUD." You tell him. "Please-" You beg, and yet again he moves as if awakened from slumber, pushing you halfway on your stomach as he pushes the now bare head of his cock back inside you. This is most certainly new, and he knows for a fact, that he's never going back again.
"Fuck.." He almost laughs, leaning over you now, body covering yours as he just pushes himself in for a good moment, humming a sound of pleasure into your neck as he lets himself relish in the new sensation. "Ah-" He sighs out, before he clenches his jaw, thrusting hard as if to make sure your body will remember him for days to come.
It will. Sadly.
"God, fuck-!" He groans out, holding onto your body now, having turned you onto your side, hand reaching out adjust your arm so he can see your face. Your lips are parted, eyes closed in bliss, and he can't help but have his hand smack down onto your behind that's moving in a way that's way too inviting. He does it a second time, slap clearly heard as he smirks at the way you clench around his cock currently rearranging your insides. He moves your leg to rest over his shoulder, reaching even deeper, hand underneath your belly button pressing where he can faintly feel himself move.
No one can blame him for being absolutely obsessed with your body.
He can feel the way you begin to tighten, thighs shaking a little as you come undone, his hands moving your legs again to close them once more, holding them up, slipping out of your clenching cunt to push his cock right between your soft and wet thighs. it's enough for a moment, though you reach out to touch the tip poking through almost teasingly, making him laugh as he suddenly sighs out, groaning as he spills over your stomach and up your chest. You're breathing heavily, and don't notice you start to shiver, as he parts from you to turn on the light in the bathroom to clean up.
Aftercare is not really his thing- and you've come to accept that.
When you sit up, you stretch your arms in front of you, muscles slowly regaining strength as you wait for Jungkook to finish up, toilet flushing before he emerges again, shamelessly walking without underwear, gaze following you as you walk past him to use the bathroom yourself.
The moment you re-emerge to grab your clothes, he's sitting on the edge of the bed with his boxers back on, phone in his hand. "I booked the flight for you. Tomorrow at 12:30." He tells you as you slip back into your underwear, not bothering with the bra as you search for where he'd thrown your shirt. "Here." He offers- and you slip the garment on with a thanks, only noticing afterwards that that's not yours at all, oversized fabric reaching almost to your knees. "Cute." He comments way too quiet to be meant to be heard, so you don't mention it at all.
"Why is the flight-thing so important?" You wonder, slipping into your socks as he moves around to find the hotel room service menu.
"Because you always fly back after me." He repeats again, clearing his throat.
"…you already said that." You mumble to yourself, but he clearly hears you.
"Fuck alright, god damnit!" He whines in complaint, rolling his eyes. "If you were to fly back earlier, you'll run right into all the paparazzi and shit waiting for me. That's why you're meant to fly back later- so they're gone by the time you arrive." He explains, and you're stunned in the spot you're standing, watching him a bit confused.
So that's the reason?
"It's not like they know." You say, unsure why he's so adamant about it.
"Doesn't matter." He shakes his head. "I'm not having them jump you for whatever reason they might have." He denies, before he sits down in the seat near the window which blinds are shut. "Now what do you wanna eat?" He asks, and you shake your head.
"I'll eat something tomorrow morning." You deny, and he slumps back in his seat, eyes closed and tongue pushed against his cheek.
"What do you want to fucking eat, babe." He repeats, making sure to pronounce the petname before he looks at you with frustration.
"Nothing." You respond. "Are we done?" You ask him, and he shakes his head, setting the menu down before he crosses his arms.
"No." He denies. "What to they call you?" He asks, and you're not sure what he's getting at, shaking your head with brows furrowed in confusion.
"What're you talking about?" You ask, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
"What do they call you?" He repeats. "I heard what you talked about in the car when I left."
"How?" You ask baffled.
"Telepathy." He jokes without humor, before he scoffs to himself. "I called you to actually ask you if you wanted to eat something- but you must've accidentally accepted the call without looking, because I clearly listened in on a convo I wasn't supposed to hear." He explains. "Either way, I want an answer. What. Do. They. Call. You." He demands, and you sigh.
"Why does it matter?" You argue, searching for your leggings in the room- finding them over the armrest of the chair he's currently sitting in. "I'm your personal prostitute, just without the pay." You tell him, and it takes him a second to realize that that's your answer.
Suddenly, he wants you out the room.
Not because he doesn't want you here any longer, but because the guilt is eating him alive with ever second he has to look at you. Because the more he think about it, the more it becomes obvious to him that this really must look like just that to everyone. After all, he's just taking you with him apparently for sex, and he's become so comfortable in it that he didn't think about it any longer. It's what you want too, right?
Jungkook has never really learned how to convey his emotions properly. He doesn't know what it's like to fall in love, has no idea what to look out for. He likes spending time with you, and enjoys the sex to the point that he's been monogamous with only you for the past year or so. It's nice to be in a relationship, even though he knows this one isn't normal. It's still okay, because down the line, you understand each other. He likes you, he just doesn't want people to use that against him or you at some point- so he keeps your status to himself. No one needs to know you're a couple. Only you and him. Because.. you know that, right?
"You know that's not what you are to me, right?" He asks, and you shrug.
"Does it matter?" You ask. "It's none of my business who I am to you, or whoever you screw apart from me." You say.
"What?" He asks, crossed arms unraveling. "I'm not fucking anyone but you." He says.
"Cool." You say.
"Cool? That's it?" He argues. "How can you be so calm about everyone else telling you I'm apparently cheating on you?" He worries, and you're yet again confused.
"What're you talking about?" You ask. "That's got nothing to do with cheating." You say.
"No no no no whoa there. Stop for a second." He holds his hands out as if to soothe a raging crowd of people, looking at the carpet. "You- you do know we're in a relationship, right?" He asks you, and your face tells him everything he needs to know. "Oh my fucking god are you kidding me…" He complains into his hands, covering his face in frustration.
"How the hell was I supposed to know?" You say, now with your own arms crossed. "Jungkook, you rarely even talk to me when we're back home. You only take me with you when you've got something up overseas, you constantly tell people we're just friends, you've never even asked me out in the first place!" You argue.
"We've been fucking each other for almost a year, I thought it was obvious I liked you?!" He whines, looking at you with what you realize are tears brimming on his waterline. Why is he so emotional now? "Have you- did you see anyone other than me?" He asks quietly, and you shake your head.
"No." You deny.
"Okay. Fuck- okay." He takes a deep breath, swallows down his panic. "I like you. I don't- I've got no clue if it's love or not because I don't know, alright? But I like you, a lot, to the point where I want us to be something permanent." He tries to explain. "Just us. You and me." He underlines, and you shrug.
"Jungkook, it's not that easy." You sigh. "If this has been what you think a relationship is like, then we won't work out."
"Alright, then what do you need me to do?" He argues, not letting go. "God- fuck, tell me what do I have to do to make you stay?" He asks, voice cracking.
"Jungkook, calm down-" You start, but he shakes his head, swallows thickly, bottom lip quivering for just a second before he licks over it, pulls it in between his teeth.
"I can't-! Not when it sounds like you're gonna leave me-" He worries.
"I'm not, don't worry. I'll stay. Just.. breathe for a second, alright?" You ask, getting up to walk closer, pushing his shoulders back to force him out of his slumped over position. "Hey- okay?" You ask, and he instead pulls you closer, sits you onto his lap, before he clings onto you, resting his forehead in your shoulder. "Why do you never reach out to me when we're home? You're confusing me." You gently tell him, and he shrugs.
"I'm scared they'll see you." He sniffles. "If they do- they'll tear you apart." He sighs. "When we're out here, like this- I can just.. claim you're staff, whatever. But at home- I can't.. I don't know how to protect you." He shakes his head.
"You should've told me." You sigh, leaning into him. "I was hurt, you know?" You tell him.
"I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." He apologizes, pulls you just a bit closer. "I don't know what to do." He whines.
"What if you just visit me instead?" You offer. "They don't know where I live. And my windows are all mirrored so no one can look inside." You tell him.
"…since when?" he asks, leaning away from you a little so that you can finally see his face again, eyes red, a stray tear escaping him that you wipe off.
"Since a few months ago? Jungkook you don't even know my apartment in the first place. You've never visited me at all, ever!" You laugh, and he sighs.
"I know, and I.. always wanted to, you know, visit you.. spend time with you but.." He runs a hand over his face.
"You're okay. We talked about it now." You nod, an action he copies. "I'll come back tomorrow morning and we can have breakfast together, okay?" You ask, but he shakes his head.
"No, you gotta stay." He denies. "I don't care if you don't like that, but I need you close tonight." He says.
"Never said I don't." You say. "You just seemed uncomfortable with it." You wonder.
"Because I snore!" He whines, throwing his head back. "I snore, I move a lot, I might cling to you at night or I sweat, or whatever the fuck- I'm not as perfect as I'm made out to be." He complains.
"Jungkook sorry, but what the fuck." You laugh, and he can't help but smile at the sight and sound of you happy. "You can fart and burp like whatever, and I'd still stay. You're human, I'm not perfect either!" You explain, but he shakes his head, leaning forwards to kiss your already blossoming bruises on your neck.
"No, you are." He says. "You're absolutely perfect." He argues.
"Not really." You deny.
"Stop arguing." He complains, squeezes your waist a bit.
"What're you gonna do about it?" You tease, and he looks up at you with a heated gaze.
"Get me nice n' hard and I'll show you." He responds, making you giggle with eyes rolling, as you lean back to tug him out of his underwear, a hiss leaving him. "Fuck, baby your hands are icy!" He laughs, leaning back to hold your legs so you don't slip off of his thighs.
"That's cause it's cold in here!" You joke back, warming your hands up on his already heated length, skin already flushed and swelling as the blood rushes back. His hands travel beneath the shirt you wear, softly grabbing at the flesh of your chest, making you get up to shed your underwear and get back onto his lap.
"Think you can ride me on this thing?" He asks, talking about the seat he's sitting in. "Kinda tired right now, won't lie."
"Huh, making me do all the work now?" You raise your brows. "And here I thought you wanted to take us seriously.." You sigh, attempting to joke- but he clearly doesn't take it as such, face becoming serious again.
"Lift your hips a little." He demands, and you do so- unsure what he's trying to do, before he spits into his hand once more, feeling you up between your legs to check if you're ready. You are- quickly slicking up at the thought of him, and he guides his length inside of you again, stretching you out once more, but this time, it's not just sex.
He refuses to move. He just helps you settle on his lap, but holds onto your hips, keeping you from moving. "Jungkook-" You whine, but he shakes his head, and pulls your face closer to kiss you.
"No, I wanna stay like this for a bit." He denies.
"But I thought we wanted to eat something later?" You ask, making him roll his eyes.
"I'm trying to be romantic here." He complains.
"By putting your dick inside me?" You ask.
"Well I don't know what else to do!" He whines. "I.. I don't really know how else to properly express.." He falls deep into thought for a second or two, before he finally says it. "I don't know how else to make sure you can.."
"..feel how much I love you."
You're quiet for a good while, watching how he rather looks at your neck than at you in particular, avoiding eye contact as he continues to move his hands back to your sides underneath your shirt. "Jungkook…" You mumble, and he cringes.
"Don't-" He sighs, clicks his tongue in irritation. "-don't pity me or something-" He begins.
"No no no I'm not pitying you I just-" You cut him off, now your hands holding his cheeks to force him to look at you. Because you just realized something in the things he's said earlier. "Remember how you said.. you want me to fly back after you?" You ask, and he nods.
"Yeah." He answers, his way warmer palms now taking yours from his face, holding them in his. "Of course."
"That's.. something that also shows that you care about me." You say. "Because, you didn't say that you were worried about someone spotting me and putting your career on the line- but that you were worried about me being in danger." You remind him, and he nods. "Or how you noticed my stomach growling, and wondered if I ate today." You giggle.
"I already wondered if you didn't- cause I didn't see you eat anything." He shrugs.
"See?" You hum towards him, running your hand through his hair. "That shows you care, too." You say.
"But I want you to feel it." He complains stubbornly. "I want you to.. feel the same as I do when I'm around you." He offers.
"Horny?" You ask, and he rolls his eyes, throwing his head back.
"That too-" He laughs. "But mostly.. just, I don't know." He takes a deep breath. "It's hard to explain. It's like chest constricts when I'm not around you. Whenever I'm home, I miss you so bad that I sometimes go to sleep early just to avoid giving in and calling you. I have to distract myself just to not think about you- and yet I still do, almost all the time." He sighs, tucking your hair behind your ears. "When I wake up.." He hums, hands moving to your shoulders. "When I do my morning routine.." He explains, letting his fingers travel over the length of your arms. "When I work out.." He continues. "When I go to bed. It doesn't matter at all." He shakes his head.
"You know you don't have to make up something just to make me stay, right?" You ask him, and at that, his eyes immediately snap back up to you, panic returning.
"I'm not." He denies instantly. "I'm really not-" he urges. "-how can I prove it?" He worries.
"You.. listen, it's not something that you can just clear up in a moment." You sigh. "It's gonna take time. We're basically starting from scratch here." You explain, and he nods.
"Do you.. should we stop then?" He asks, glancing between your bodies for a second. "Until you believe me?" He wonders, and you shrug, before you shake your head.
"No." You deny. "I'd miss you too much-" You tell him, before you adjust your legs, arms around his neck. "-And you'd probably go insane without sex." You tease.
"Not without sex." He denies, watching how you begin to move your hips, letting him slip out until just the very tip remains inside you. "But without you." He clarifies. "It's not sex I want- that's a… I don't know. It's the closeness I feel, you know?" He sighs when you sink back down. "I just like touching you.. being inside you.." He hums, eyes fluttering closed as he leans back into the seat while your hands settle on his shoulders to keep you balanced, pace slow but fast enough to intensify the pleasure you both feel. "Just like that.." He sighs out in bliss.
"I have a really nice couch, you know?" You hum towards him, making him smile while his hands find your waist. "My bed is really big too.." You tell him, and he opens his eyes a little at that.
"Big enough for two?" He wonders, and you shrug.
"Guess we have to find out." You tease, and he nods, hands moving from your waist to your hips before one of them finds your heat between your legs where he can see his cock disappearing inside you.
"Is the couch sturdy?" He wonders, fingers playing with your clit now, making the muscles in your thighs twitch.
"Ah- yes!" You whine, picking up your pace.
"Hm, gonna fuck you on it then." He chuckles. "Stress-test it." He jokes, and you whimper as you come undone, your slick now coating his own legs, strings of the sticky fluid keeping you both connected, wet sounds echoing off the walls of the hotel room. "Break it." He growls, heels on the ground helping him in shifting his hips upwards into you, catching you off guard, your orgasm washing over you in a wave threatening to drown you.
You're shaking, but you still move, needing to feel him reach his high as well, and he does find his own release, spilling whatever he's got left to give, holding you close, kissing whatever skin he can reach from how you're hugging him now, breathing slowly easing again.
And he keeps you like this, uncaring of the food since it's by now too late to order any roomservice anyways.
And for the first time, he actually sleeps next to you, in the same bed-
promising himself to do everything he can to keep you this close, for now and as long as you'll have him.
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vanteguccir · 7 days
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You belong with me | Matt Sturniolo
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N and Matt love each other, but don't seem to have the courage to declare themselves; OR, where Matt belongs to Y/N but can't seem to understand it.
Warning: Crying, unrequited love, angst (with a happy ending).
Requested?: Yes, by @freshsturns
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
It was a typical fall morning in Boston, with golden leaves dancing in the wind and the fresh scent of coffee wafting through the air. Y/N walked down the familiar street, her steps synchronized with the rapid beat of her heart, her mind full of possibilities of how to break the news; she would spend three months at her father's house, as her mother needed to travel for work continuously during that short period.
Her eyes fell on the Sturniolo's house, where the triplets, Matt, Nick, and Chris, had lived since they were teenagers.
A mixture of feelings invaded her whenever she passed by.
She and the triplets have been inseparable since childhood. They grew up together, shared secrets, laughs, and unforgettable moments. But there was something deeper between Y/N and Matt, something she held deep in her heart and feared revealing.
Matt was the middle brother out of the three, with his dark hair and piercing dead blue eyes that seemed to read her soul. He was Y/N's confidant, the one with whom she shared her most intimate dreams and her deepest fears. But there was a secret she never dared to confess: her love for him.
As Y/N walked towards the Sturniolo's house, she felt her heart beating wildly. She knew she would see Matt soon, and that thought made her nervous and excited at the same time. They saw each other every day, but each meeting was like a new chapter in an endless book.
Upon entering the cozy home, Y/N was greeted with warm smiles and affectionate hugs from Jimmy and Mary Lou. Matt, with his captivating gaze and worn-out jeans, stared at her eyes for a brief moment. A shiver ran down Y/N's spine, but she quickly looked away, fearing he might read her feelings in her gaze.
Throughout that day, Y/N and Matt shared conversations like they always did while spending time together, lost in their own bubble of happiness. The sound of their laughter echoed through the cold streets, filling the air with a contagious energy, enjoying the last minutes together before the girl had to go far away.
Matt's hair was messed up by the wind, attracting her attention, who glanced at him, lost in her thoughts. She wondered if he could hear her frantic heartbeat every time he smiled when his hair got in his mouth.
But there was a palpable tension between the two, an invisible elephant in the room that neither dared to address.
At night, when Y/N finally returned home, she sat on her bed and let the tears fall silently while preparing herself to pack her bags. She wondered if she would ever have the courage to confess her feelings to Matt or if she would continue hiding them forever.
Meanwhile, across the street, Matt was lying in his own bed, lost in thoughts about Y/N. He wondered if she could ever feel the same way about him. If she could look at him with the same love-filled eyes that he always cast her way. But the fear of ruining their friendship prevented him from taking any action.
Thus, the two friends remained trapped in a painful impasse, their hearts connected by invisible strings that neither of them dared to break.
Y/N hoped that the next three months would do something good for her.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
Time had passed too fast, and soon, Y/N was back in Boston. The sun shone high in the summer sky as the girl left her house that morning, leaving her unopened suitcase to organize later, the birds chirped happily along with the frantic beats of her heart, yearning to see her best friends again.
For some reason, she knew something was different, that something had changed, but she wasn't prepared for what she would find when she met with him that afternoon.
Upon arriving at the brothers' house, Y/N was greeted by a strange silence, even with the cheerful voice of Mary Lou - who greeted her happily at the front door.
Y/N quickly found Matt sitting on the couch, next to a blonde girl, with long straight hair and an artificial smile on her lips. She was the complete opposite of Y/N in every possible way.
She felt a pang of discomfort when she saw Matt so close to that girl, her heart clenching when she noticed the brunette's arm around her shoulders, knowing the inevitable; Matt had met his perfect - or not - match.
She tried to push those feelings away and tried to convince herself that she was happy for him, but the truth was that a wave of sadness washed over her and found home in her heart.
Matt's new girlfriend, who introduced herself as Tiffany, looked at Y/N with a look of superiority, as if she was sizing her up and down. She emanated an aura of arrogance and pretension that made Y/N feel out of place and inadequate almost instantly.
Her slender and tall body was shaped by a mini skirt and a tank top that hugged her tiny waist perfectly, her feet covered in sparkling high heels - too much for a normal day in Boston -, Y/N feeling suddenly uncomfortable about the large t-shirt that covered her entire upper body.
As she watched Matt and Tiffany together, Y/N felt a tumultuous mix of emotions. The sounds of the video game coming from the television and Nick and Chris' excited screams echoing muffledly into her ears as she noticed how Matt hadn't looked directly at her eyes, not even once.
She wondered if he had really forgotten her so easily, if their friendship no longer meant anything to him. She felt betrayed and abandoned, as if a piece of her heart had been ripped out without warning.
As the day progressed, Y/N tried to keep herself occupied with the other two brothers, trying to push away the painful thoughts that threatened to consume her. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the vision of Matt and Tiffany together, acting like they were the perfect couple.
She was so different from what Y/N imagined Matt's type to be.
When it was finally time to go home, Y/N said goodbye to Matt with a forced smile on her lips. She tried to hide the pain in her eyes, trying to appear indifferent to the fact that he had found someone new. But deep down, she knew that it had changed everything between them both, and nothing would ever be the same as it was.
As she walked home, Y/N felt tears streaming down her face. She felt lost and confused, not knowing how to deal with the new reality that was opening up before her.
She wondered if Matt would ever see that she was the right girl for him, that he belonged with her.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
The restaurant was buzzing with the sound of excited voices and cutlery clattering against plates. Matt, Y/N, Nick, and Chris were sitting at a table in the corner, enjoying a quiet lunch together after weeks of not hanging out as a group.
"Matt, can we talk?" Y/N began as she noticed Chris and Nick immersed in a random topic. Her voice was soft but filled with concern, her eyes trying to decipher the storm of emotions that seemed to cross the brunette's face.
"Of course, Y/N. What do you want to talk about?" Matt nodded, his gaze meeting hers momentarily, before lowering it back to his plate, a fake smile resting on his face.
Y/N took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to express what she was feeling.
"I couldn't help but notice how things have changed between us lately. Ever since you started... dating Tiffany, it seems like we're more distant."
"I know, Y/N. I'm sorry that I've been distant. It's just... Tiffany is complicated. She's very different from... Well, it doesn't matter." Matt spoke in a low tone, looking embarrassed as his hands nervously played with the metal cutlery.
Before Y/N could respond, Matt's phone started ringing, interrupting the conversation, and catching the attention of Nick and Chris, who stopped what they were saying and looked at them with interest. Matt huffed out an apology before looking at his cell screen, frowning as he read Tiffany's flashing name.
"Sorry, Y/N. I really need to take this." Matt said, quickly getting up from the table and taking a few steps away to answer the call, ignoring the worried looks his brothers were sending him.
Y/N watched as Matt spoke on the phone, his face tense and worried. She could hear Tiffany's muffled screams on the other end of the line, and a knot formed in her stomach as she realized the argument was about her, her name escaping the boy's lips more times than expected.
She could feel Nick and Chris's gazes burning into the side of her head, and she knew they wanted to say something, but her attention was too focused on Matt to try and get information out of the pair.
As the argument continued, Y/N observed in detail Matt's reactions, the lines of tension on his t the clenched fists at his side. She could feel the anguish he was experiencing.
When Matt finally hung up the phone, he returned to the table with a tired look in his eyes, his teeth biting down hard on his bottom lip, as if he was in an internal struggle between what to do and what not to do. He looked at Y/N, as if he was about to say something, but then looked away, unable to find the words.
Y/N quickly reached out to touch his hand, a small show of silent support, a frown full of worry taking her expression.
"Matt, hey, are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just..." Matt nodded, a weak smile playing on his lips, the same one that Y/N saw every day since he started dating Tiffany, but so different from the one that was directed to her three months before. "I just need to sort some things out with Tiffany." He cleared his throat quickly, tearing his eyes away from her and focusing them on his brothers. "Can you guys keep going without me? I really need to go."
"If I say no, it won't change what you think, so do whatever you want, Matt." Chris shrugged, his gaze rigid like never seen before by Y/N.
She tried to meet Nick's eyes, searching for some kind of explanation, but all she saw was sadness and worry.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
Night was falling over Boston when Matt left Tiffany's house, his heart heavy and his mind turbulent. The rain, like a perfect background actor, fell in torrents, mixing with the tears that ran down his face as he walked aimlessly through the wet streets, having left his car in the hands of Chris - the one who knew most about driving after himself.
The boy allowed his feet to take him where they wanted to go, his vision blurred, and his mind too confused to decide anything at that moment, his heart screaming for refuge.
And that's how he found himself standing in front of Y/N's house, his safe haven in the midst of the storm that had been his life since he could remember.
With a heavy heart, the brunette walked to the side wall outside of the two-story house, his blue eyes only seeing the window that he already knew very well. Agilely, Matt quickly climbed the expanse of concrete, the lighting from the girl's room helping and guiding him.
The sound of light knocks against the closed glass echoed through the room, and it was and understandment to say that Y/N was surprised to see Matt outside her room, hanging from her window, drenched from the rain and with eyes red from crying.
The girl quickly shot up from her seat on her pretty made-up bed, running towards him and opening the window in seconds, her hands working on pulling him inside the cozy and warm room, wrapping him in a comforting hug, ignoring the feeling of his wet clothes against her dry and warm pajamas.
"Matt, what happened? Why are you here like this? What...?" Y/N asked frantically, worried. She pulled back a few inches, rubbing her left hand over Matt's cold arm, while her right worked on brushing away the soggy strands of hair that stuck to his forehead and cheeks.
"I broke up with Tiffany." His voice sounded choked and hoarse from crying, his lips trembling without a pause. "I finally realized how toxic she was being, and I couldn't go on like this anymore. I didn't-" A sob broke through his throat, his eyes closing tightly as his hands gripped Y/N's bent elbow, seeking some stability.
Y/N watched him with compassion, stroking the cold skin of his face gently with the tip of her right fingers. She felt like screaming from seeing him in such a state, her heart hurting as if someone was squeezing it with their bare hands.
She wondered how he couldn't see that she was the right one for him, not Tiffany. She knew all his favorite songs, the movies he loved, the places he dreamed of visiting. She was the only one who truly understood him, who knew his deepest dreams, fears, and hopes.
Over the years, Y/N has been by Matt's side through every important moment in his life. She watched him grow, face challenges, and overcome obstacles. She was the person he went to in the middle of the night when he needed someone to talk to, the voice that made him laugh when he was about to cry.
And yet, even with all this intimacy and deep connection, Matt didn't seem to realize what was right in front of him. He continued to seek love and validation elsewhere, ignoring the fact that Y/N was always there, waiting for him with an open heart.
And because of that, he got hurt. Again.
"Oh darling, I'm so sorry. Come here, sweet boy." Y/N asked in a gentle whisper, guiding him to her bed in slow steps.
"N-no, I'm going to wet your whole bed." Matt muttered between sniffles, his right hand gripping her arm gently while his left one rubbed his eyes angrily, trying to stop the tears from continuing to flow.
"It's okay, I don't mind, honey." The girl insisted, helping him sit on the edge of the mattress next to her pillow while moving his hand away from his face, preventing him from hurting himself. "Stay here, I'll go get a towel. I think I still have some of your clothes too."
While Matt vented between sobs about his problematic relationship with Tiffany, Y/N listened attentively, moving around the room behind her hairdryer, clean towels and pieces of clothing that the brunette had left there when he visited her house.
She could feel the pain and anguish he was feeling, and she was determined to be there for him, no matter how much her heart burned to see him suffer for another girl.
The girl quickly found everything she needed, beginning the task of wiping Matt's wet, dark hair with the fluffy towel and wiping away the raindrops from his skin, her body standing stiffly between the boy's legs, being careful not to cross any barrier he had placed between the two of them.
As Matt spoke and Y/N advised him, she could feel his blue eyes fixed on her face, his hands too close to her legs as she finished drying him, feeling her cheeks burn like fire, knowing for sure that they were as red as the color itself.
"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you." Matt whispered, his tone low - as if he didn't want to burst the bubble that seemed to surround them - but still echoing throughout the room with force. "I only started dating Tiffany because... because I was trying to get you out of my mind."
Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her hands stopping their movements abruptly, the wet towel feeling heavy on her skin. The girl stared at the wall behind Matt for a few seconds, processing what he had said before finally looking at him, all the words caught in her throat as tears glistened in her eyes.
What?
"I know it was wrong, and I'm so sorry." Matt continued, his voice strained as his eyes seemed to search hers desperately. “But I realized that no matter how hard I tried, I could never forget you. Because... because I love you, Y/N. Since the first day I met you, I have loved you. Every time I close my eyes, it's your face that I see. You're always in my thoughts, in my dreams, everywhere, and nothing I tried could make you disappear."
Y/N's heart raced in her chest a mile a minute as Matt's words echoed in her mind. An overwhelming mix of happiness and relief filling her veins at finally hearing the words she had waited for so many years.
"Matt, this is..." Y/N shook her head as an easy smile spread across her face automatically. "I love you too." She confessed, her voice almost a whisper, lowering her face, her eyes finally meeting his electrifying ones, feeling as if they were piercing her soul, which now, exposed, no longer had a barrier to hide her true feelings. "I love you more than I ever thought possible to love anyone."
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
I'm SO sorry if this ended up being a little rushed or too fast, I don't write series, and I tried to make everything happen in only one fic. I'm sorry if it didn't turn out how you'd like it ;(
My requests are open! Please read my rules before sending anything ♡
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @mattsneezing @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @watermelonreid @iammattswife
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lakefu · 16 days
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A Perfect Warmth 🕯️
Summary: Astarion and Tav take a well deserved break away form the chaos of their adventures at an inn inside Baldur's Gate. They need to clean up and get back on the road but they keep getting distracted. Perhaps plans could be delayed for a night of passion...
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Tags: 18+, Explicit, fluffy smut, brief Astarion trauma response, PIV, erogenous elf ears, scent kink, blood + biting, a bit of praise, a bit of edging... a sprinkle of cockwarming...., these guys are in love...
Word count: 3.5k Note: This was my first fic originally uploaded on Ao3 on 11/27/23, inspired by the patch #4 dev note mentioning adding sponges to clean your companions. I've made edits from the Ao3 post.
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“Remind me to sell this junk next time we pass by a merchant, would you dear?” Astarion was seated at the edge of the bed and rummaging through his traveler’s pack, placing various items on the nightstand for further examination. Two silver forks, an old necklace, and a handful of various polished stones ended up on the table before he plucked out an intricate sapphire ring and held it up to the sunlight peeking through the window.
“Good taste,” he muttered to himself. He placed the ring on his pinky finger in amusement and resumed the scavenge. 
“It’s going to get difficult sneaking up on people if I have to lug this heavy thing around you know.” He threw over a glance at Tav, who was preoccupied with gathering laundry together in preparation for the next day.
“It wouldn’t be so heavy if you didn’t pocket nearly every shiny thing we came across,” she teased, without even looking over at him.
He gasped dramatically. “Framed by my own lover? Quite the scandal. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the near dozen times you’ve asked me to hold onto your things because your own pack was too full.”
“Hmm. Maybe. I guess that might sound sort of familiar…” She giggled to herself and walked into the bedroom to catch his eye, meeting him with a mischievous grin. 
“Why are you such a- oh! Now, what’s this you’re wearing?” Astarion blinked and scanned her up and down, clearly enthralled by the wardrobe change. She stood there in an old linen robe that was yellowed with age, definitely unlike anything he had ever seen her in before.
“Just some old thing I found in the dresser here, isn’t it just fabulous?” Tav's words were dripping in sarcasm and yet she smiled, performing a grandiose little spin in the middle of the room as if she was wearing the most beautiful ball gown in the world.
“I… it’s just so different from your usual armor or that drow nightwear you fancy so much. You look so… domestic.” His eyes were locked onto Tav intensely, with brow furrowed as he seemed to be confused by his own words.
She felt her heart skip a beat and a flush run to her face.
“And you think that’s a good look for me?”
His eyes softened and he paused a moment before quietly answering.
“Yes… I do.”
Tav watched as his smile faded and the gaze of his eyes became increasingly more distant. The atmosphere seemed to shift and a slight panic ran through her body. Did she do something wrong? No... and it didn’t require a tadpole connection to get an understanding for what had brought down his spirits.
Astarion hadn’t considered a comfortable domestic life was possible for someone like him. Even the slightest concept of such a thing had been buried for over a hundred years, and he never expected it to resurface. Was he worthy of such a thing, and was it even possible? 
Oh, it was possible. The evidence was standing right in front of him, spinning circles in an ugly bathrobe. He could see glimpses of a happy future that was so close to being a reality he nearly felt nauseous. Not because he was unsure of himself, but because there were still too many unresolved matters they had a duty to attend to. Too many missions and stupid little quests that could now go wrong and threaten this idea of a happy ending he never even knew was possible.
Everything was different now that he realized what was possible, and he suddenly felt an unknown and uncomfortable pressure. All he knew was that he couldn’t afford to lose in the upcoming battles. Battles that some would say were impossible, suicidal even. The thought of loss at this point was beyond unbearable. It was sickening just to think about.
“Hey!!” Tav ran up to where he was sitting on the bed and took his head in her hands. She placed a delicate kiss on his forehead, knowing she had to get him focused on something else.
“Why don’t we go to the shop right now and get rid of that stuff,” she motioned to the collection of items that had been gathered on the nightstand.
“Wouldn’t hurt to get some more coin in our pockets, right?” She looked at him expectantly and felt a huge relief as a light seemed to return to his eye and meet her view.
“Please tell me you aren’t going to wear that horrid robe to see the merchant,” he sighed and looked up at her pleadingly.
“Of course not!! I’ll change and- oh gods!!! We’ve got to get this blood off your face, the merchant is going to think we are trying to kill him!” Tav exclaimed as she lightly shook his shoulders, and quickly began examining his body to see how much cleaning would have to get done before they could leave.
“Blood… on my face?” He raised an eyebrow and brought a finger to his cheek.
“Yeah!! Well, it’s all over you really, dontcha remember earlier today, fighting those cultists?? You sneaked up behind one of ‘em and BAM!!! Just obliterated with a single strike, it was amazing!! You’re so strong…you know.” Her pulse was racing at the mere memory of the event as she delicately traced the side of his face with her fingers and ventured down to his chest. 
“Ah of course. That was all so terribly easy I’d nearly forgotten,” he said proudly, adjusting his posture and keeping his eyes on Tav’s hand movements sliding across his chest. Her soft touch was becoming more firm as her fingers made their way toward his arms, giving his biceps a teasing squeeze before leaning her face into his and teasing a kiss.
Before their lips could touch, Astarion wags a finger in between their faces as if to remind Tav of the task at hand.
“Alright my sweet, let’s clean up shall we? You’re my mirror after all. So, go on then.” He took her hands into his own and gave them a kiss before placing them back at her side, encouraging her to go and gather whatever it was she needed to get him cleaned up.
Right, the supplies. It was nearly impossible to remain focused after moments of intimacy with him, no matter how brief they were. She quickly moved into the other room to acquire the washcloths and bucket of soapy water that she was using for herself not too long ago. Hands full, she scurried back to the bedroom to meet her lover, who hadn’t moved an inch.
As she approached him, Tav could feel the tie on her robe becoming increasingly more loose with each step that was taken across the floor. The embarrassment hit her as she realized she didn't have any hands free to do anything about it. She quickly tried to put the bucket down by the bedside, but the bending movement only resulted in the robe slipping off one of her shoulders, exposing a bare breast.
“Oh? You haven’t got anything on underneath?” Astarion cocked his head in amusement, eyes unmoving from the newly exposed skin.
“Ye-yeah that’s the whole point of robes isn’t it? I was doing laundry earlier ya know and umm,” She laughed nervously and started to fix the wardrobe malfunction but was quickly stopped by a hand over her own. Astarion reached out toward her until both hands were around her waist and pulled her in close to his body. Fangs were peeking through his devious smile while determined eyes looked her up and down. With a singular finger he crept over to the loose knot of the robe’s tie and flicked it completely undone with one swift movement.
Tav shuddered and felt her body starting to run warm despite now being suddenly exposed to the cool air of the inn. She was completely revealed to him now, the robe only just clinging to her arms and draped across her backside.
“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he sighed and began kissing her stomach and caressing the curves of her waist. “Come here.”
Tav gasped as she felt his cold grip around her waist tighten as he expertly lifted her up onto his lap with ease. Pleased at the new angle, Astarion shifted his attention to kissing the crook of her neck and started moving down her chest. He delightfully found her nipple with his mouth in no time, and teased it in circles with his tongue just as he knew she liked it. His gentle sucking continued for only a few brief moments before he suddenly withdrew and cleared his throat.
“Ah, well. You can reach my face better up here I’m sure. For the cleaning of course,” he said smugly. The elf leaned back and admired the view of his lover, nude and flustered, perched oh-so perfectly on top of him.
“The cleaning…” Tav nodded and remembered she still had a warm and soapy washcloth in her hand. The urge to throw the stupid cloth into some unknown corner of the room was nearly undeniable. All she wanted in this moment was for him to take her completely, in any way he wanted, it didn’t matter as long as she ended up getting fucked into oblivion. So fine. On with the cleaning.
She raised the washcloth to his temple and slowly began to wipe away the dried blood by working down his face. His cheeks were a bit sunken as usual but flushed adorably in this moment, clearly enjoying the tender rubs of cloth on his skin. She continued rubbing down toward his chiseled jawline, across to his lips, and back up the other side to repeat the process once more. She ran her fingers through his silver curls and noticed his ears would need cleaning too. 
One hand caressed the pointy ear to keep it in place and the other brought the washcloth in for a gentle scrub. A quiet moan suddenly escaped the vampire’s lips.
Oh? She had seemingly discovered a sensitive spot and noted that she would have to continue her work carefully. The scrubbing continued but Tav couldn’t keep her eyes off his face now. His eyes were closed but still noticeably moving behind their lids, and his lips were slightly parted with his breathing becoming increasingly heavier and more noticeable. 
Astarion was in his own world of pleasure. What in the hells had he been doing these past weeks, aimlessly scrubbing himself clean alone in the river when they could have been doing this the whole time instead?
He opened his eyes just to make sure it wasn’t all a dream. She was still there of course, diligently and lovingly taking such good care of his body. A wave of maddening lust rushed through his core and he needed her closer. He needed her as close as physically possible and even more so after that.
Their eyes met, revealing intense desires. Tav lowered her hands and she spoke slowly, “Can you take your shirt off? There’s a spot I can’t get to with it on…” 
She wasn’t fooling anybody, but he obeyed without hesitation. The shirt was gone in seconds, revealing his pale and perfectly sculpted chest. It was a sight that Tav never tired of admiring, and was in fact the subject of distracting daydreams on the daily. She shifted her body closer to his and continued scrubbing his neck and chest, despite it becoming increasingly more difficult to focus. Deep breaths.
She had always been fond of his cologne that he was quite proud of concocting himself. The scent of aged brandy, bergamot, and rosemary was now forever an Astarion specialty that she could never forget. Even during times of battle or travel, a gust of wind could carry his essence to her and bring along with it a sense of reassuring familiarity. As she continued to wipe him down, however, a different scent began to come to the forefront.
It was something that did not seem completely foreign, but it wasn't immediately identifiable either. There was something about taking it all in that felt forbidden. Tav tried to pinpoint what she was experiencing. He smelled earthy… raw… unnatural… it was without a doubt, the undeath.
An undeniable heat rose through her body as she engulfed herself with this pure scent from her lover. The washcloth, the bed, the entire room seemed miles away, and nothing felt coherent except for a craving to be even closer to him. Nothing else existed except their bodies and her overwhelming desire to-
“Eager, are we?” A sultry voice snapped her back into reality, where piercing red eyes amusingly greeted her return. She suddenly became aware of a presence between her thighs and glanced down, realizing she was sitting atop a clothed bulge. His hands had a firm grip on her backside and his encouraging movements made it clear she had been absentmindedly grinding on him during her trance. 
“Shit, I got carried away…” She hadn’t taken her eyes off his crotch and began to notice that her excitement had left a dampness on his clothes. Embarrassment nearly overtook her, but a gentle yet confident hand grabbed her chin and brought it up to meet his gaze. He leaned into her with a grinning open mouth and kissed her passionately, tongues intertwining.
She felt his fangs briefly scrape against her tongue every so often until a metallic taste became increasingly noticeable. She didn't mind the blood, especially since it seemed to enhance his arousal as noted by his hips continuously jolting faster up into her exposed crotch. Tav was soon pleasantly overwhelmed between his deep kisses and desperate hands groping her at every curve of her body. She longed to give him everything; her blood for his hunger, her body for his pleasure. 
Tav released herself from the kiss they had been locked into and tilted her head so that her neck became exposed as an undeniable gift. His mouth lunged at the presented spot as soon as it was noticed, fangs immediately sinking in deep. Tav cried out at the initial impact but soon was reveling in the experience. It was a perfect mixture of pain and pleasure that she was only capable of experiencing from him.
He remained on her neck for a while, still tightly holding on to her body and keeping one hand free to reassuringly caress the back of her head. It was only after the blood flow slowed to a near stop did he cease his medley of licking and sucking at the wound. Blood dripped down his chin and onto his exposed chest, but he was ultimately unfazed. He leaned back, clearly happy and mostly satisfied, but there was still a different type of satisfaction he had left to chase.
Astarion's throbbing erection was begging to be released from its clothed restraints. He quickly untied his pants and shifted his underwear to finally free it. He moaned a few incomprehensible words of relief and stroked himself a few times before looking up at Tav for approval.
Tav had been staring at his length from the moment it was exposed, an impressive size for an elf, no doubt. Her eyes fixated on his perfectly pink tip, glistening with precum just for her. She immediately fantasized of shoving him down her throat until she choked and cried, but that was a fantasy for another day. In their current position, they both knew there was only one simple way of how to continue.
“Astarion,” she whimpered. “Fuck me.”
Tav sat up on her knees and positioned herself so that her entrance was just nearly grazing the head of his dick, ready to take him in completely at any moment. She grabbed ahold of his shaft and guided the tip back and forth through her folds until he was covered in her slick. The new sensation of the friction between them left them both gasping and desperate for more.
Suddenly, finally, his arms wrapped around her body as he pulled her down onto him with one firm motion. Astarion grunted through his teeth while Tav moaned unapologetically, focusing on relaxing enough to allow her body to adjust to his length inside of her. 
The temperature differences between their bodies only heightened the feelings of pleasure whenever they became one. Her warmness was intoxicating to him, granting a sense of safety and bliss that was impossible to achieve anywhere else. He was already so close to the edge in this moment, but was not ready to give in just yet. He wanted this moment of heaven to last as long as possible.
Meanwhile, Tav was having the time of her life riding her man like there was no tomorrow. She had no intent to slow down until a pair of large hands suddenly gripped her hips in a way that prevented any further movement.
“I’m not done with you yet, love. Didn’t you notice the mess I’ve made after feasting on you?” Astarion took a finger to his chin and smeared a bit of Tav’s fresh blood down his neck.
It was true, he had made a mess. Quite uncharacteristically of him in fact. Tav had assumed he had simply gotten careless in his horny and feral craze but no- it was clearly all calculated. 
“Just be still and sit nice and pretty on my cock. Finish the cleaning, then I’ll take care of you myself. How does that sound?” 
How does that sound? His words echoed in her head, which was already spinning plenty enough as it was. She was unsure if it was from the blood loss or her seemingly never ending carnal desires, but perhaps it was both. One thing was certain, however, he could convince her to do damn near anything speaking in that low and lustful tone of his. Without uttering a word she slowly brought the washcloth up to his chest. 
“Good girl,” he whispered. He felt her body twitch around him in response to the praise, and he leaned back to relax and enjoy these final few moments of intimacy. 
It had taken everything in Tav's power to remain still while she worked. It wasn't exactly easy to focus- she was being split in half by a whimpering vampire beneath her after all. Astarion’s skilled fingers had been dancing around her swollen clit the whole time, just enough to keep her stimulated but never enough to let her come.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the blood was all cleaned up. She hadn't even realized when it happened or how he did it, but his pants were completely gone now. She reached over to place the cloth down and awaited her reward of sweet release.
Astarion’s hands moved to the knees that were straddling him and slowly pushed them farther apart, spreading Tav’s legs open bit by bit. She inhaled sharply as she took him in deeper. He opened her up more and more until she lost her balance and fell backwards onto his expectant embrace. 
“Relax darling, I’ve got you,” He purred in reassurance. 
Astarion took her entire weight in his arms with ease and laid her down amongst the soft pillows of the bed. He nestled himself comfortably between her legs, making sure their bodies were flush with one another. Nearly smothered by his body now, all Tav could do was claw at his back and arch her hips into his powerful thrusts. His mouth frantically traveled across her lips and neck with desperately wet kisses until he settled near her ear with a playful nibble.
“You’re so beautiful…” He whispered tenderly, while the rhythm of his lovemaking became increasingly sporadic. “So fucking perfect… Gods…just for me… I love you… so much...”
“Star, I- ah!” Her words cut short as she felt something snap within her. Pure ecstasy- she was falling and flying somewhere a million galaxies away and never wanted to come back. Obscene noises and curses filled the room as they rode out each other’s high in tight embrace. The smell of sex lingered in the air as their bodies heaved with labored breaths, finally collapsing on each other in exhaustion. 
They laid together a while longer, exchanging soft kisses and enjoying the short moment in time where nothing else in the world mattered. Eventually, Astarion rolled out of the bed and stood up to stretch. 
“Tsk, looks like it’s my turn to clean you up my dear,” He said with an accomplished grin, eying how her thighs were dripping with his sticky mess.
“I’ll be right back, don’t move an inch. Actually, I doubt you can move at all after that, ahaha!” He laughed and leaned over to brush aside a strand of Tav’s sweaty hair that was stuck to her forehead before walking over to the other room. 
“Shut up… dummy…” she smiled to herself and rolled over, feeling at ease enough that the weight of sleep was starting to overtake her.
“I love you too, Astarion.” Her eyes closed as she drifted off into a peaceful slumber, knowing that her lover would soon come back to her side like he always did, and always would.
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rkvriki · 3 months
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PAIRING ! husband!sunghoon x house wife!reader SYNOPSIS ! some domestic moments of your married life with sunghoon.
WARNINGS ! SMUT MDNI!! reader likes to bicker and scold hoonie but its bc they act like a married couple, very brief handjob, hints of shower sex, oral (f. receiving), there's a small argument moments but its like old married couple fighting, nipple sucking lmao, there's no actual sex sorry!! ALSO SORRY IF ITS BAD I WROTE THIS IN ONE SITTING
wc: 3.7K
a/n: happy early valentine's to my baby @pshaven i love you wifey mwah !
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“Sunghoon, seriously, I need to leave.” you said with a huff as you tried to break free from your husband’s embrace. “Just a little bit more.” he replied, words muffled as his face was hidden in your neck. “Hoon- You know I have brunch with your mom” you reminded him “And besides that, if I stay here I won’t get out anytime soon.” you felt him smirk in your neck at your words, making you roll your eyes at him. His hands started moving inside your shirt, caressing the skin there. “Hoon! Please, let me go. I need to shower” you insisted trying to push him off. It wasn’t even 11 in the morning and he was already managing to make you annoyed. With a deep sigh he rolled onto the side, letting you go.
You walked towards the bathroom, turning the shower on and undressing yourself. You got in, feeling the warm water on your feet. You let yourself immerse in the warm feeling before getting to your shower routine, letting your muscles relax for a bit. There were very few moments where you could fully relax and take a break from the world. Even though you didn’t actually work and were just a housewife you had a lot to do around the house and you knew people didn’t really take you seriously when you said you felt tired or like you needed a vacation but maybe jealousy speaks louder volumes. It wasn’t your fault your husband chose to give you this lifestyle and the opportunity to not work.
You were in the middle of scrubbing your hair when you heard the shower door open, making you open your eyes to see Sunghoon in all his naked glory, standing there and staring at you with a smirk. “Seriously, Sunghoon?” you said closing your eyes again and returning to washing your hair. “You really aren’t giving up, huh?” You turned your back to him as you rinsed the shampoo off. He didn’t say anything but you felt his hands circle your waist as he pressed himself (and his boner) on your backside. 
“Oh my God! Sunghoon, I seriously can’t be late for your mom!” you said, hands still moving on your hair. “I promise I’ll be quick, yeah?” he said as his hands moved upwards to massage your boobs, making you bite your lip and contain any sounds that tried to come out. “Yeah, no, Hoon. Sorry.” you replied turning around, now facing him. The look he was giving you usually would be enough to have you on your knees but today you swore to yourself you would be on time to meet with his mother. 
“Move! I need my body wash.” you tried to sound unbothered, but the flicker of your eyes between his eyes and his cock showed him you weren’t so unaffected. He chuckled at your behaviour, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you close to connect your lips with his. Your eyes instantly fluttered close as you felt his plush lips move against yours. Your hands moved to his shoulders as you pulled him closer to you, his cock rubbing against your stomach. One of his hands made its way to your cheeks, angling your face to the side to deepen the kiss. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip asking for permission, making you moan as you felt his tongue rub against yours.
Your hand moved from his shoulder down his torso until it reached his already hard cock. You grabbed the base, moving your hand up until it reached the tip, making Sunghoon moan as he pulled away from the kiss. “Acting so hard to get for what, mnh?” he said smirking against your lips. Your hand squeezed his dick, making him hiss at the feeling. “Yeah yeah, whatever, make it quick.” you said turning around, bending over slightly for him. “I need to leave before 11:30.” Sunghoon laughed at your antics. “Wow, so romantic, baby.”
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It was around 7 in the afternoon when you started making dinner. Sunghoon still hadn’t come from work and you knew he was gonna be in the office until a little later since he had texted you about an important business meeting or whatever. You decided to make his favourite dish since it has been a while since you’ve made it and you wanted to reward him for working so hard this past month.
Sunghoon’s company has been having a lot of great deals coming up and while that was good it also meant he spent longer in his office. You were worried that he was overworking himself, since you knew how he gets when there’s important stuff going on in the company. Still, Sunhoon always made sure to give you his attention whenever he could, always answering your texts and calling you in his breaks and obviously, when he got home he always gave you more than just his attention so you always try to give him rewards with your domesticity you knew he craved after long days.
The smell of homemade food filled Sunghoon’s senses as soon as he got home. A smile making its way to his lips when he caught a glimpse of you cooking, still not noticing him as your back was turned to him and you were so immersed in preparing the meal. He walked towards the kitchen, being careful not to scare you. The warm light from the top of the stove made the whole scenery look so domestic and Sunghoon wished he could take a picture of you at that moment. You must have felt his presence as you turned to look at him, already smiling up at him. He leaned down to kiss you, a happy sigh leaving his lips when he did so. When you pulled back you noticed how tired and droopy his eyes looked, making you frown a little bit.
“Everything ok, baby?” he asked, hands reaching to caress your cheek. “Yeah, Hoonie. You just look so tired.” you answered as your lips pouted slightly. He let out a deep sigh but smiled at you nonetheless. “Yeah, but it’s nothing being with my sexy wife can’t fix.” he said giving you a wide grin, making you playfully roll your eyes at him. “Shut up, dork.” you replied, turning back to the pot to get back to cooking.
A comfortable silence sat in the air and it was just you cooking and Sunghoon leaning back on the counter as he observed you carefully, unconsciously smiling to himself. “I can feel you staring at me, dude.” you told you as you kept on with the cooking. “And you had to ruin the moment.” he said rolling his eyes “And so what? Can’t I look at my beautiful wife?” he said as he moved to hold your waist from behind. “Whatever, Hoonie. Let me cook.” you said wanting your space to cook. “I’m letting you!” he said as his face moved to your neck to start peppering kisses on the area. “Sunhoon, I’m serious!” you warned but still rolled your head slightly to the side to give him more access to your neck, making him smile as he bit on the skin softly.
“If the food burns you’re paying for take-out!” you said in a warning tone but Sunghoon knew you were enjoying the attention he was giving you. “You should take a break baby.” he said grabbing you to turn around. “Sunghoon, let me fin-” you were cut off by your own squeal as he pulled you to sit on the counter. He reached to turn the stove off so the food wouldn’t actually burn and you were left staring at him dumbfounded. “Sunghoon, the food-” he cut you off by giving you a peck on the lips. “Relax, baby.” He said getting on his knees in front of you, your eyes following his every move. “Just need to taste one thing right now.” his hands reached for the hem of your sweatpants. “Can I?” he asked looking at you with his puppy eyes, making you nod eagerly at him. He pulled your pants down along with your underwear, not wasting any second to bury his face in your warm cunt.
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When things weren’t so busy in the company Sunghoon would take some days to work from home. Normally, for any wife who has a busy husband, this would sound like heaven, but not to you. At least not today. Unfortunately for Sunghoon (and for you), it was cleaning day, which meant you were gonna go through all the rooms including his home office and make some noise with the vacuum cleaner which also meant it was gonna bother Sunghoon during his online meetings or distract him from work overall.
You were in the middle of vacuuming the hall which had access to his office when his door burst open, making you look at him, still vacuuming. His face sported a deep annoyed frown, making you raise a brow at him. “May I help you?” you said turning the electronic off. “Actually, yes.” he said in a very annoyed tone. “Could you not vacuum when I’m working?” you looked at him shocked that he was asking such question. “Um, no I actually can’t!” you answered starting to get just as annoyed as he was. “Y/n, I’m literally working right now and I can’t focus at all.” he said, complaining as if you weren’t working as well. “Oh! And what am I doing? Playing house? Jeez, Sunghoon, you can be quite the asshole sometimes.” you rolled your eyes at him and walked off to the living room, leaving him standing there as he watched you disappear in the corner.
Sunghoon was back in his office and it had been some good thirty minutes since your small argument and even though he was annoyed at the time he knew it wasn’t your fault and you were just doing your work. He was starting to feel bad and as much as he wanted to keep working, the heavy feeling in his chest kept reminding him to go apologise. Sighing, he rolled his chair back and leaned back, rubbing his eyes with his hands. He got up and left the office quietly, looking for you in the living room.
When he reached the room he saw you sitting on the couch as you surfed through the different TV channels, rolling his eyes and biting back a scoff when he saw you stopping on the stupid reality show you loved so much. He walked to the couch, making you look at him just for a very quick second before getting your attention back on the show. He sat next to you, thighs touching yours. His hand landed on your legs, rubbing it up and down in a comforting manner. Your eyes flickered from his face to the TV, waiting for him to say something.
 “Baby…” he started “What?” you said, eyes not moving from the big screen in front of you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I know you were working just as much as me. I’m sorry, baby.” he said, moving closer to you. “You were a little mean, not gonna lie, Sunghoon.” You said playing with a loose string in your old shirt you usually wore to clean the house. “I know I was, baby. This client was annoying me, and even though this isn’t an excuse I want you to know I didn’t mean to let it out on you.” he said as he brushed hairs that came out of your bun away from your face. “It’s ok. I forgive you, Hoonie.” you smiled up at him, curling yourself on him. His arms instantly wrapped around you, pulling you closer to his chest as he leaned down to kiss your cheek, lingering there for a while. “Stay here for a little bit?” you asked, looking up at him. “Of course, baby.”
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You swore you loved Sunghoon very dearly and if there was a bad thing about marrying him it would be your inability to sleep properly without him beside you. While, yes, that was true it was also a curse because of Sunghoon’s little sleeping problem. Sunghoon snored very loudly when he was really tired which consequently pulled you out of your sweet sleep. You tried all you could think of. You covered your head with a spare pillow, you covered your ears with your hands, you elbowed him in the ribs but he wouldn’t even budge.
Annoyed you sat up on the bed and shook his arm, making him let out a hum and look at you. “Turn to the other side, you’re snoring.” you told him with furrowed brows. He let out mumbled words you couldn’t even understand, probably annoyed you interrupted his sleep but still turned around, his back now facing you. Sighing, you laid back on the bed, your head hitting the fresh silky pillow. 
You felt bad for waking him up just to stop him from snoring since you knew he was probably tired from a long day at work but your sleep was also important! Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt sleep take over your body again. Just as you were about to fall asleep again a loud snore followed by a sigh made your eyes open wide.
Your hands gripped the sheets as you let out an annoyed sigh. “For fuck’s sake.” You whisper-yelled as you sat on the bed, feet blindly looking for your slippers. You grabbed your pillow and walked towards the living room to try and get some quiet sleep. Your feet dragged on the floor as you tiredly made your way to the couch. You threw your pillow on the couch and grabbed the blanket that you always threw on the armrest. You laid back down, sighing happily when you felt instantly take over you.
Sunghoon looked at the clock on his bedside table, seeing it was still a little past six. He sighed softly as he turned to your side of the bed but felt nothing but the cold of your sheets. He forced his eyes open and lifted his head when he saw you weren’t lying beside him. He rubbed the sleep off his eyes and got up to go look for you. First, he looked in your in-suite bathroom but you weren’t there. He walked barefoot through the halls until he reached the living room. There he saw you laying, curled in the white fluffy blanket you usually shared on movie nights.
Sunghoon smiled softly as he walked towards your sleeping figure. He shook your arm slightly, making you shake a little bit as you woke up. “Why aren’t you in bed, baby?” he asked when you were finally looking properly at him. “Maybe because someone was snoring like an ogre and I couldn’t sleep.” you answered in a groggy voice, making him chuckle at your response. 
“What time is it?” you asked laying your head back on the pillow. “Just a little past six.” he answered “Come back to bed, yeah?” you groaned feeling comfy and warm on your couch. “Carry me?” you asked, smiling and extending your arms towards him. He smiled and shook his head but still crouched to grab you and carry you to bed, kissing your head in the process as you both made your way to your shared room.
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The weekend had finally arrived and you and Sunghoon had been waiting for a day like this since forever. You both woke up late and had homemade brunch and were now lying on your shared bed watching movies and just talking with each other. You were cuddled on his chest and he had his arm wrapped around you as you both seemed to be immersed in a random romcom playing on the screen in front of you. Both of you had been quiet for a while, the only thing heard was the movie playing. 
You were starting to get bored of the same rom-com plot playing over and over in each movie. You rolled your head back against Sunghoon’s shoulder and just stared at him, admiring his perfect features. He was so into the movie he probably didn’t even notice you staring. It was in moments like this that you wondered how could have you bagged a husband and man like him. Your eyes moved from his plump lips to his perfect straight nose that you loved to sit on so much.
You were getting needy for his attention so you started to leave love bites on his neck, making him look at you with a surprised look. You smiled up at him, making him mirror your expression as you kissed the spots you previously bit, soothing the red marks. “‘M bored, Hoonie.” you whined as you pressed your face in his chest. “You want to change the movie?” he asked, grabbing the controller. “No!” you said sitting up “I’m bored.” you said again but emphasizing the bored with a suggestive tone. His eyes widened in realization but his expression quickly changed to a playful one.
Sunghoon said nothing as he laid you against the many pillows displayed on your bed, making you let out a squeal. “And what does Miss wanna do, mnh?” he asked, biting his lip as his hands slipped inside your shirt, caressing your stomach. “I don’t know, Hoonie…” you said giggling as you spread your legs further so he could fit in between them. “Then I don’t think there’s anything I can do, baby.” He said sitting on his knees, making you whine at him. “Hoon, please!” you begged not really sure for what. “Tell me, baby. What do you want, mnh?” he said hovering over you again. “Just do anything! Please!” You said grabbing him by his nape. 
He pulled your shirt up, letting it rest just above your breasts. The sight was enough to make him feel himself become hard in his sweats. He took one of your nipples in his mouth as his hand played with the other. You moaned at the delicious feeling, your fingers tangling themselves in his hair as you squirmed against the bed. “Hoon…” you moaned when you felt him graze his teeth on your sensitive nub. He pulled away to suck on the other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the other, a string of his spit falling on the valley of your breasts. 
“Please, Hoonie, need more!” you whined softly, grinding your clothed pussy against his stomach. Sunghoon pulled away from your breasts to look at you. Cheeks blushed, eyes shiny and lips parted. Even though you have been married for almost three years now, you never failed to impress him with your beauty. He smiled at you, leaning down to peck your lips multiple times as he giggled like a fool in love (exactly what he was). You felt your cheeks warm up at his antics, giggling at the feeling of his lips on yours. “Whatever my baby wants.” he said moving south.
Thankfully you hadn’t worn any pants underneath your shirt so he had easier access to your panties. He buried his nose in your clothed cunt, giving it a lick through your panties, making you moan and grind against his face. “H-hoon!” you moaned quietly. His hands caressed your thighs, moving upwards as he reached for the hem of your underwear. “Can I, angel?” he asked for your consent, making you nod at him. He pulled your panties off of you, revealing your glistening cunt to him. He let out a shaky sigh at the sight of your bare cunt on display wet just for him. 
He used his thumbs to spread your folds, revealing you fully to him and lowered himself on you, moaning when your sweet juices hit his taste buds. His tongue licked a stripe from your hole to your clit, sucking on the little bundle of nerves, making you let out a breathy moan as you grinded against his face, smothering him in your essence. “Hoon, fuck!” you moaned loudly as you felt his tongue flickering your clit. “Shit! So good. Hoon!” He moaned in satisfaction, grinding against the mattress, trying to get some relief of his own. His tongue moved to your hole, slurping on your wetness. 
Sunghoon felt like he was ascending to heaven as he inserted his tongue in your hole, feeling more of you. You kept moaning and grinding on him, fingers pulling him closer to your cunt. Slurping sounds along with your moans and whines were all that was heard in the quiet room as he immersed himself in your pussy. His tongue alternated from sucking to flicking on your clit when he felt your hole clench repeatedly, meaning you were about to cum. “Hoon! Please, don’t stop!” you moaned out loud. He could also feel himself come close to his own release as he kept grinding himself against your sheets.
His hands moved from your folds to embrace your thighs to pull himself even closer to your cunt. His tongue started moving faster on your now sensitive nub. “Shit, Hoon! S-So close!” you screamed as you felt your body twitch. He seemed to suck even harder on your clit, motivated to bring you your sweet release. With a couple more flicks of his tongue, you felt the oxygen being knocked out of your lungs as your body stilled and your vision turned white. “F-Fuck, Hoon!” You moaned as you came on his tongue, hole clenching uncontrollably as his tongue now moved to your hole to slurp at the juices that were starting to drip out of you.
It also didn’t take him long to cum as he felt your hole clench around his tongue, his body shaking as he felt his sticky release stain his underwear. With a final suck, he pulled away from your pussy to not overstimulate you. You lay there, panting as you came down from your high. His face was covered in your slick and a smile adorned his lips, making you giggle at the way he looked like a lovesick puppy. “Thank you, Hoonie.” you said, pulling him down to peck his lips. “Everything for my princess.” he replied as he kissed you again before getting up to prepare you a bath.
1K notes · View notes
highpri3stess · 2 months
Text
Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa
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Chapter 2: Shots Fired
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pairing: Mikey Sano x Fem Reader x Izana Kurokawa
series summary: Your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. And now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.
chapter summary: izana kurokawa decides he has to teach you a bitter lesson that you wouldn't forget any time soon
chapter warning: 18+ dark content, misogyny, religious themes, smoking, mention of drugs, brief description of child abuse, childhood trauma and sex work, violence (against both character and reader), emotional incest, night terrors, allusions to sex, sexual harrassment, mention and brief description of rape, asphyxiation (non sexual), manipulation, slut shaming, near death experience, sexual assault, noncon, oral (m.recieving), face and throat fucking, attempted murder
Please read ending credits for important annoucement
wc: 7.5k
masterlist||chapter 1||chapter 3
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  IZANA mindlessly fiddled with his lighter as he leaned on the wall, waiting diligently for Emma.
Unlit cigarette between his lips, his purple eyes scanned the people leaving the English department one by one, hoping to find a mop of golden hair amongst the students. A small vivienne Westwood shopping bag hung between his fingers loosely, perched beside his faded out black jeans. There was no way that Emma would avoid him in public at least, not with the entire student population watching the both of them. He knew that his little sister hated being the subject of rumors, no matter how trivial it could be.
His plan has to work. It just has to.
Whatever bullshit Mikey was spewing about you being the key to getting Emma to speak to him, can go to hell. He and Emma had a strong bond that transcended anything casual. This was his little sister he watched for the first eight years of his life, a bond doesn’t just break like that. Not over a stranger.
Not over you. Over your dead body.
A few minutes passed and still no sign of Emma. Deciding that he didn’t want to stand around and gape like a moron, Izana lifted his lighter towards his cigarette, flicking the light twice and bringing the warm flame to his lips. Breathing in the familiar scent of nicotine, smoke filled his lungs as he tucked the lighter back in his pockets. His free hand took the cigarette from his lips and he exhaled, releasing plumes of smoke from his lips.
His smoking habit had gotten worse within the past week. Izana couldn’t help it, reaching for a light anytime he saw his gifts in the dustbin. Emma hasn’t been this angry at him for more than a day before, usually a new plushie was enough to wash his sins clean, no matter how grevious they were. Now, not even the most expensive shoes she’s been eyeing for months could satiate her anger.
All because of you.
Izana knows his little sister like the back of his hand. Like how she loved sleeping with plushies because it comforted her whenever their mother brought men into the house and they were loud. Or how he picked up a guitar to learn multiple barbie songs because their mother had destroyed Emma’s CD that he bought with his money to punish her. He knew she liked warm tea during her periods and gentle back rubs to ease her pain.
Izana knows he’s not the best person to be around. Emma may have been young when she left their mother’s home, but Izana had stayed there until his teens before going to the orphanage, enduring unimaginable horrors. Life hardened him, made him so jaded that the only thin thread connecting him to his humanity was Emma.
And little by little, his humanity was slipping away.
First it was Mikey’s stupid friend, Ken Ryugi, who waltzed his way into Emma’s life. Izana didn’t like him one bit- didn’t like how Emma would bite her lip, waiting for him to reply and cry herself to sleep when he didn’t. Her heart was soft, fragile and that brute tore it apart by telling her he wasn’t interested in a relationship yet. The only reason Ken wasn’t in an unmarked, shallow grave in the middle of nowhere was simply because Mikey was involved.
Now it was you. Taking the space in her life that belonged to him and him only. He was fine sharing with his younger brother, no matter how much that little shit pisses him off but now, you’re pushing both of them out of the equation. How could someone so insignificant be so important to his sister?
He took more puffs, letting the smoke out through his mouth. He skimmed throughout the campus once again, nervousness creeping onto his consciousness with every passing moment. Had he missed Emma?
‘Has she gone to her room already? Don’t tell me I missed her-’
His thoughts were cut short the second he caught sight of a familiar blonde hair bouncing in the wind. He stood up straight tossing the cigarette to the floor and crushing it underneath his black shoes, before rushing to catch up to his little sister.
Izana pushed through the throng of people, violently shoving anyone that got in his way until he finally fell in step with her, slowing down to match her pace. Without wasting time, his hand curled around the girl’s wrist, stopping her in her tracks instantly. A shocked gasp escaped her lips, her head twisting fast and her free hand even faster to hit him.
“Get off me - Izana?”
Her hand stopped mid air, inches away from the smirking male’s face. He noticed her tension leave her body, relief washing over her, only for irritation to take its place on her face, instantly displeased at his actions. “What the hell? I’ve told you to stop doing that.” she hissed at him.
A mischievous grin made its way to his face at Emma’s irritation. She always had a pout whenever she was angry at him and it made look even more adorable.
“Were you scared?” He teased her, pulling Emma closer to him until she was practically smushed at his side, his arm hugging her tight despite the irritated glare she gave him in response. “You know that as long as I’m alive, no one guy would ever have the balls to hurt you. Unless they want to die.”
“Stop joking about things like that.”
‘I’m not.’
Shaking his head, he decided to change the topic to what he came here for originally. “Here I got you something for your…” he sneered at the thought of Draken being near his little sister. “date with Draken.” He released her from his side hug before extending the perfume bag to her with a smug look on his face. “It’s Vivienne Westwood, your favorite.”
His hand hung in the air as Emma trailed her pointed glare from his hand, back to his cheerful visage. She crossed her arms in response slowly, her yellow eyes rapidly looking at the bag to his face before her lips curled into a sick sneer.
“Are you insane?”
“What?”
“Don’t ‘what?’ me Izana! How many times have I told you that this is not a situation you can bribe me out of! Not this time!”
Emma’s voice was loud enough to garner wandering eyes of other by-standers, watching the event go down. They were wise enough to hide that they were staring, so as not to piss Izana off even further after she left.
Izana kept his composure, still holding out the bag towards Emma with a smile -albeit stiffer than before. ‘She’s just being emotional’ Izana whispered to himself, still trying to be rational. ‘Just take it easy with her’
“Easy Em, I said it was a joke” his words were smooth, buttery, flowing out of his lips like it was the truth. In his own opinion, you were the one in the wrong for wearing such a provocative outfit, showing your body off. He was just trying to tell you off so that you would be more decent next time when you’re around seniors. “I didn’t know your friend was that sensitive-”
“Are you listening to the bullshit coming from your stupid mouth?” Emma roared, her voice echoing throughout the entirety of the department, her face red with fury. Izana had never seen his own beloved sister ever look at him with such disgust in her eyes, her teeth gnashing against each other and hands at her side, clenching against each other. “Is that what you think a joke sounds like?”
“Calm the fuck dow-”
“No wonder you’re fucking single, you’re such a piece of shit to anyone that isn’t Shinichiro!” Emma screamed, interrupting Izana once again, her temper fiery enough to burn a hole on the ground she stood with how heated she was. “How does anyone even stand you for so long? You’re unbearable!”
“Excuse m-”
He doesn’t like where the conversation is going, with how furious Emma was right now. He tried to raise a comforting hand to Emma’s shoulder to ease her tension but she was quick to smack it away from her hard, stinging his fingers a little.
It hurt.
“You’re so unpleasant, how do you even have any friends? How do they tolerate you? To think (name) wanted me to forgive you! Thank god you aren’t my fucking brother, I can’t imagine being anything like you!”
The words left her mouth before she could stop herself.
It was as if the world froze over for Izana. He stood there, wide eyed, his heart beating loudly in his chest as all the voices around him faded into the background. His hand extended weakly at his side, mouth drying up as a lump formed in his throat. He can see the flash of regret in Emma’s eyes, the way her face changes when the weight of her words crushed the both of them.
Suddenly he was sixteen again, thirteen year old Mikey taking Emma’s place and uttering those soul-crushing words to him after another fight. It was just a silly xbox game that Shinichiro forced them to share, one of his many futile attempts to make them get along with each other. Izana remembered how he looked at all of them. Mikey. Emma. Shinichiro, hoping to god that it was spite that fueled Mikey’s words, not conviction.
“It’s not true right? Shin-nii? Em?”
The terrified look on Shinichiro’s face sealed Izana’s fate forever.
“I-I-i didn’t mean i-” she starts to stutter, tears gathering in her eyes. It’s obvious that she can recognize the heartbreak in his violent hues, blankly staring at her, disappointed. He wants to say something, but all that manages to come out is air. Of all the things she could say to him, why did it have to be this one?
“Izana please-”
He doesn’t let her finish, turning on his heel and walking as fast as possible. People were quick to clear out of his way, not wanting to be his target of aggression when he eventually snapped. He ignored Emma trying to reach him, shouting his name at the top of her lungs with strings of apologies as he walked back to where he bike sat.
“Izana, wait please-” she screamed from the crowd of people, tears streaming from her yellow eyes. He continued to ignore her as he hopped on his bike, sliding in the key and revving up the engine before she could reach him.
“Izana please I didn’t mean it! I’m so-”
Izana zoomed away, turning Emma’s cries into background noise.
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"THANK god you’re not my real brother.”
Izana narrowly avoided crashing his bike into the tree right next to the house, hitting the breaks just in time for the bike to stop.
‘It’s all that fucking bitch’s fault!’ He seethed ‘That useless excuse of a human being caused this.’
You. An unimportant little rat that scurries around his little sister. From the first day Izana set his eyes on you, an intense hatred filled his gut. You were just there, sitting awkwardly while Emma tried to involve you in their conversation and it irked him. He hated everything about you - the way you picked your finger when you were nervous. Your bright smile you gave to only Emma when you talked about the most mundane of things. The fact that Emma would cut short their outings just to see or meet up with you.
Just your mere presence in general. He couldn’t stand you. He couldn’t stand losing his beloved sister to you
Blinded with rage, Izana throws his helmet on the tree with a guttural scream, breaking it in half. Unsatisfied with his rage, he clenched his fist and stalked towards his fraternity house, ready to beat up the first person he set his eyes on.
The doors of the fraternity house were thrown open by Izana. Shion was the first person Izana just happened to set his eyes on, the blond carrying a box of tools in his arms as he headed towards Ran’s bedroom. The taller male turned his attention just as Izana was entering the house and smiled at him.
“Hey boss, did you see your lil si-”
Izana pounced on the poor man, sending the toolbox and a confused Shion to the ground, shattering the glass table underneath them. Ignoring the broken glass digging into his skin, Izana slammed his fists straight into Shion’s face, dealing him powerful blows, cursing you as he beat up Madarame.
“(name) you stupid slut. You ruined everything! I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you-”
“Izana!”
“Stop it! You’re gonna kill him.”
Two sets of hands pulled Izana off Shion, dragging him away from the injured man. Ran is quick to help Shion up from the floor, holding the barely conscious male up. Eyes burning with irritation, Ran turned his attention to Izana who was held back by Kakucho and Mucho, heavily breathing after his rage induced breakdown.
“Izana what the hell man?” Ran cursed at him. “He was supposed to help me set up my humidifier. Look what you did!”
“Let’s take it easy, Ran, it seems like Izana had a bad day.” Kakucho reasoned, still holding Izana away from lunging at Shion once again. “You know he’s only like this when he’s stressed-”
Ran put his free hand up, silencing Kakucho completely. His violet eyes moved to Izana who was still huffing and puffing, still in Kakucho and Muto’s grip. “Look.” Ran sighed out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We don’t want to deal with this anymore, Izana. You can’t keep taking out your anger on us. Especially for that (name) girl.”
Izana growled, his teeth clenched against each other at Ran’s words. Deep down, he knew Ran was right. Each time he saw his gift in the dustbin, it would send him into a panic induced rage and end in hitting one of his friends. Beating up everyone that wasn’t you was not the solution at all. No matter how violent he got, it still wouldn’t change the fact that his sister doesn’t want him anymore.
And it is all your fault.
Eventually, Izana relaxed, breathing through his nose gently. The two men released Izana once he calmed down before helping Ran with the barely conscious Shion to his room. The white haired male now left to his devices, crashed onto the chair, his hands on his knees. If he was going to get his sister back, he had to do it right. Maybe teach you a bitter lesson that you would never forget. Punish you for angering him and changing his little sister into something else.
Anything really, to satiate his anger.
His hand fished out his phone from his pocket, going straight to his contacts. Purple eyes rested on a familiar name, one that he hadn’t spoken to for the past eight months after a hookup. She tried to elevate herself from a hookup to his main girl, texting him non-stop and throwing herself at him.
Pathetic.
Izana liked thrill and adventure. Women who were wild on the dance floor and even wilder in the sheets were his favorite, for the same reason he loved riling up Mikey. The dopamine rush.
Sex was a drug to him. Not necessarily a favorite, just something he got a high from that was different from cocaine or LSD. The experience was a thrill, bodies meshed together in bliss as they gave into carnality until they fell over the edge. It was why he couldn’t stay with the same girl all the time, eventually their holes get accustomed to his dick and they try forming attachments to him. It gets boring.
Like this one.
He dialed the number and not even up to a minute later someone picked it. “Izana! Hey babe!” She chirped. Izana bit back a groan to avoid voicing his displeasure. She was so fucking annoying. “It’s been so long. Do you want to see me tonigh-”
“You’re (name)’s roommate right?” He could hear her deflated sigh from the phone and decided to butter her up. “Don’t worry, she’s not my type. Just need her schedule for a friend.”
“You sure?”
Izana rolled his eyes before deepening his voice to lure her in. “Sure babe. You’re the one I wanna see tonight. I see the cute pictures you sent to me. The one with you wearing those cheetah print panties, your bare tits hanging out is my favorite.”
“Really?” She sounded so excited that he liked something she sent. Pathetic.
“Really.” he breathed out. “You should wear it when you come here tonight. That is, if you tell me about your roommate’s schedule.”
“Alright!” She began excitedly, the prospect of being Izana’s girl tonight looking very tantalizing, to the point she is willing to sell out her friend. “I’ll tell you everything I know baby!”
Izana shook his head. Too easy.
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  YOU haven’t been able to stay asleep for the past few days.
It’s easy to fall asleep after a hard and stressful day at school and your part-time job. Your limbs ache from all the walking and lugging a bookbag far heavier than what you could handle -since all your e-textbooks were on your (now destroyed) laptop and phones were not allowed during lectures. And working from 5pm until 9pm at a restaurant, serving food to rude, overbearing customers only to be paid in pieces was another added stress in itself. Not to mention, studying.
But then, in all your dreams, everything you’ve pushed to the back of your memory is at the forefront. Your dream starts typically, your normal school day, waking up, dressing in your cute little blue crop sweater and jean skirt with socks. You go to classes, and then you see Mikey’s car waiting for Emma.
Things take a different turn. He’s the one getting out of the car to meet you. It’s like a siren call, him holding out his hand for you to take despite someone screaming for you to stop. And you try to reject him, you try to run away like the voice said but you end up getting trapped.
But this time, he’s not using his hands. He’s fully sheathed inside you, robbing you of every thing you hold so dear and you kick, bite and claw at him until you wake up screaming, sweat soaked all over your sheets.
You consistently dream of being violently raped by Manjiro Sano.
The next few hours until sunrise were equally horrible. You’re quietly sobbing into your pillows, praying to God to forgive you for letting Mikey touch you in the first place, assuming your reason for having such dreams was God’s divine judgment for your grievous sin. You’ve lost count on how many Bible verses you stay up reading until your eyes are bleary and the sun comes up.
No matter how much you pray and how many times you recite psalms 127 before you sleep, you can never escape Mikey in the world of dreams. He’s a virus that has invaded your thoughts, corrupting every dream you had and twisted them into nightmares.
You don’t know how long you can hold on being this sleep deprived. It’s been impairing your school life, trying to find a way to stay awake during classes only for you to fall asleep and miss the rest of it. Even when you got notes from the person next to you, reading them was always difficult because your eyes hurt so much.
 Work was even more taxing and stressful, rush week adding more stress than you could ever imagine. You found yourself spacing out more than usual when you were supposed to be taking orders. You were unable to keep up with the fast paced environment, your body feeling like a ton of bricks with every moment you make. Your eyes were heavy lidded, tired from forcing them open throughout the day.
You were so, so tired-
“Hello! Are you sleeping on me young lady?” A voice snapped at you.
Your eyes shot open and immediately you stood back straight. You must have been dozing off while taking the older lady’s order -the very thing you’ve been trying to avoid all day long. “No, not at all Ms-” you started to explain. “-I was just … what was your order aga-”
You flinched when the woman angrily slammed her fist on the table, shutting you up instantly! “So you were sleeping on the job! What kind of establishment allows this?” She screamed, attracting the attention of customers around. “I need to speak to your manager. NOW!”
You instantly began to panic at the mention of your manager. If he heard you’ve been sleeping on the job, for sure he was going to fire you, especially when he was angry you rejected his advances on the first day. You cannot afford to lose this job right now, with all your school expenses and saving up money for next session’s tuition.
“No mam” you begged, keeping your voice even as you tried to reason with her. “Th-there’s no need for that! Please! Let me take your order and I’ll-” you racked your brain for an excuse, knowing fully well your establishment does not offer free meals. “- I’ll pay for your meal! On me-”
“So you’re trying to imply I’m poor?” She interrupted you again, her tempo even higher than before. “You disrespectful little wretch! How dare you? GET ME YOUR MANAGER RIGHT NOW!”
You started begging the older woman, trying to calm her down and de-escalate the situation, but each plea only fuelled her rage. By now, every customer, every employee and just anyone in that place watched you grovel and beg this woman to calm down, some people even videoing your altercation. Your body was trembling as she screeched in your ears, calling you all sorts of names while you relentlessly apologized to her.
“What is going on here?”
You winced at the sound of your manager’s voice emerging from the backrooms. You stood stiffly as he walked to your side, using his shoulder to nudge you out of the way. “Is there something wrong Ms.?” He asked the lady. “What happened?”
“This little wretch!” She practically screeched at you, her finger wagging straight at your hung face. “She was sleeping while I was ordering! And when I pointed it out to her calmly, she called me a hag!”
Your eyes snapped open. You can tolerate people yelling at you, but lying against you is out of the question. “I did not call you anything! That’s a lie-”
“You be quiet!” Your manager yelled at you, silencing you. He turned to face the woman again, apologizing profusely for your so called rude behavior. “I promise you mam, she will be dealt with accordingly. Your order is in the house, please take that as a token of our humble apology and forgive us.”
You stood there in shock as the woman smirked satisfactorily at her now free meal. “Well. You better get rid of her!” She snarked, eyes scanning you up and down, plopping back down on her seat. “Or you’ll lose me as a patron.”
“Of course mam.” He said sweetly before switching his countenance towards you into a more irritated one. “You, come with me.”
You lowered your head once again in disappointment as you started following your manager towards the back rooms, your head lowered in shame as the eyes followed your every move to your damnation waiting for you in the manager’s office.
Your skin crawled as you felt his gaze roam your body up and down, before regaining his composure again. “You know how many complaints I have received this week just from you, (name)? How many orders you’ve messed up?”
You shook your head no in response, not trusting yourself to say anything reasonable at this point. He eyes you up and down again before scoffing at you rudely. “I only let you stay here to see that tight virgin body of yours roam around. It’s not like you’re even good at this kind of job.” He spat out, rolling his eyes. “Unfortunately for you, this is the end of the road for you here. Change out of your uniform and leave.”
“But s-”
“I said you’re FIRED. GET OUT.”
You sighed weakly, obeying your now ex-manager’s order and leaving the office. You ignored the eyes of everyone watching you exchange the too tight black jeans and green top uniform back to your white bohemian skirt and light blue top with your white jacket. Calmly, you packed your school bag and everything you owned with you and slung it over your shoulder, replacing the uniform back to the locker, dropping the key on top.
No one said goodbye to you as you left through the back door.
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  THE walk back to your dorm was quiet.
By the time you managed to catch a bus after your walk of shame and get back to campus, almost everywhere was dark and deserted. Save for only the street lamps that were beginning to dim, everywhere else was darker than usual.
You had read that there was going to be a lunar eclipse tonight between the hours of 10pm - 12am. The time boldly written on the bus’ digital clock before you got down was 10:45pm, so you already assumed it was the cause of the unnatural darkness tonight.
A long time ago, things like this would have made you excited. You loved watching the stars when you were young, trying to check on the papers your father bought to see if there was any space news available. You remember borrowing your immediate elder brother’s binoculars as a makeshift telescope, trying to piece out the stars in the sky or see if you would catch a glimpse of the comet that was said to pass through that week.
Unfortunately, you were young and foolish. Wanting to impress your father, you told him all about your book of constellations that you drew up, detailing the first star that appeared every evening, down to your crazy childish theories about aliens and space.
“Can you show me the book?” your father had asked calmly. You should have known it was dangerous for your father to be this calm, but you were too blinded by excitement to think and you gave him the book, a bright smile on your face.
Your smile fell as his large hands ripped your book into shreds, before telling you “women don’t dream.”
Maybe that was the day you stopped loving your father. You were so young and impressionable, all you wanted was for him to be proud of you, like he was with his sons. Now, you can’t even look at the stars.
The memory leaves a bitter taste in your mouth and you try to shake it off as you continue on the path.
You wondered what grievous sin you’ve committed to be so down on your luck like this.
You passed by Emma’s dorm building, another sigh escaped your lips. She told you that Draken wanted to take her out for dinner tonight, which shocked you because friends with benefits - according to what Emma herself told you- don’t go on dates or do lovey dovey stuff with each other, to avoid complicated feelings from budding.
Then again, their relationship is based on the fact that they both have feelings for each other, but Draken was not interested in a relationship.
It was already complicated before it began.
Your eyes darted up to her window, hoping her lights were on. Whenever she was alone, Emma hated sleeping in the dark. She said it reminded her of the times her mother would lock her and Izana in a dark room whenever she brought her customers in. Anytime she was in a darkened room, she told you she could still hear the sound of her mother moaning and a man grunting. Izana would try his best to distract her, playing games or even stealing an earphone and plugging it to his own so that she would listen to music instead of what was going on.
A frown graced your lips when you saw two bodies from the curtain, one tall figure you recognize as Draken and Emma’s smaller dainty figure perched on him, kissing. You quickly averted your eyes and walked faster, ignoring the unfamiliar pang in your chest. Maybe you’re jealous because you needed your friend’s comfort right now and she wasn’t available.
‘She has her own life to live. And I have mine’ you muttered to yourself as you trudged along the path, slowly dragging your feet. ‘I have to stop being so dependent on her.’
Eventually, your thoughts drift back to your reoccurring dream. Losing your job made you realize that if you didn’t do anything about it, your tiredness would eventually catch up to you and ruin everything else you’ve worked for. With an important test scheduled for tomorrow, you knew you could not afford to take another loss this week. You had to power through your sleep tonight, even if it traumatized you.
‘Maybe I should pretend that I like it. Pretend it’s okay and enjoy it so that I won’t have to wake up.’ You shook your head, cursing as you drew closer to your own dorm building. ‘How far I’ve fallen. Look at me trying to enjoy a disgraceful act-’
You paused in your tracks at the sound of a leaf crushing. You quickly turned around, trying to ascertain who could be lurking there behind the bushes. Your palms started sweating, your nerves firing at the thought of being watched by someone or something.
Silence.
You decided to continue walking, assuming that maybe you were hearing things and there wasn’t anything at all. Night time always had a way of making you nervous, especially with all the horrible stories you heard about innocent women being attacked around these times. Besides, looking around for whatever may be lurking was a dumb idea.
You should just try to get out of here.
Still, the nervousness and unease you feel doesn’t leave you. Your heart rate became abnormal as you started walking faster, only for you to hear mismatched footsteps behind you.
‘Run.’
You sprinted away as fast as possible, not even bothering to look back to see what was chasing you. At this point, all that was important was for you to get into your dorm room as soon as possible, the fear of the unknown running down your spine.
Your lungs burned from having to sprint at full speed after not exercising for years now, your leg muscles aching but you dare not stop running from what might be behind you. A glimpse of light peeking through the cracks of your dorm house beckoned you to run even faster, until you reached the door.
Your heart rate picked up as you attempted to twist the door handle open, only for you to realize that it was locked early today -of all the times that the school took security seriously it just had to be now. After a few more frazzled and failed attempts, you started pounding on the doors and screaming for anyone to let you in. “Please! Open the door, I’m being chased! Help!” You screamed frantically, shaking the large doors with how hard your fists hit them. “Open the door-”
Unfortunately, your luck ran out and nobody answered you or said anything. You kept on screaming as footsteps approached you, slowing down as you harshly pounded on the door for someone, anyone to help you. Your cries became even more frantic, shouting for help anywhere, anyhow, fear taking over your rational senses.
‘God please, please, please save me, please please please’
A loud blood curdling scream rips out of your throat as arms around your waist and chest before dragging your body into the nearby bushes, discarding your bag on the floor. Your limbs flail around, trying to hit your attacker in any way so that they can release you, and you can run back to Emma’s dorm.
All it did was enraged them.
The person threw you on the ground, the grass and dirt harshly brushing against your face and body, dirtying your white skirt and jacket. You attempted to get up, only for someone to jump on top of you, pushing their weight onto you so that you can’t.
‘No. No. No-’
You reached up to the person’s chest, trying to shove them off your body, but they didn’t budge pushing themselves further onto you. You decided to use your long nails to scratch them, drawing three long lines on their cheek, anything that could distract them so that you can fight back.
“You bitch.”
Your world froze over the moment you recognized that voice, heartbeat almost stopping completely. Your eyes fearfully locked with his bloodshot purple ones staring right back at you, silver hair reflecting in the street light just a few steps ahead of you.
‘Izana-’
What did you even do to him? After the Mikey incident, you avoided the brothers like a plague, not wanting to piss them off or a repeat of what had happened. You even told Emma she should start talking to them, so why was this happening to you?
Before you could scream, his fist came in contact with your face. The pain was unbearable, black spots clouding your vision as you tried to make sense of what was happening. He hit you again, this time on your jaw, forcing you to bite your tongue so hard it bled.
“This is what bitches like you deserve. This is what you get when you don’t stay in your fucking lane.” he spat out, slapping you across the face hard, your eyes rolled back and blacked out for a second, only for him to keep beating you up, emphasizing on each syllable with a violent slap. “Everything was fine until you came. You evil little bitch. You ruined everything!”
Tan hands found purchase around your neck, both pressing down until your air supply was cut off. Panic filled your gut the moment you looked at his face once again, eyes blown out wide, teeth gritted against each other so hard, it could crack. His face twisted grotesque with how hard he was looking at you, white dust scattered around his nostrils. You reached out to his hands, clawing and scratching at them until you drew blood, kicking your legs so that he’ll become unbalanced and loosen his grip.
It was as if he was immune to pain. Nothing you did worked.
“I’m going to kill you.” He hissed slowly, bending his face towards yours until his hot breath hit your skin. “I’m going to kill you and send your dead body to Emma. Nothing will EVER come between me and her. I’ll kill anyone that comes between us!”
‘God. God. God’
You watched as his lips curled up into a smile at the frightened look on your face when you realized how serious his threat was. Your nails dug harder into his skin, tears rolling down your face as you fought for your life. You didn’t want to die. Not like this. Alone, terrified, in the hands of a crazed man and his vice-like grip forcing you to stay in place.
Izana loved every second of it. Watching you tremble in fear as you fought back was nothing short of priceless. Sure he was holding back majorly because this was a lesson, but watching you beg for your life whilst fighting him has his blood rushing down to a particular place.
Eventually all your fight gave way to fear of death. You didn’t know when you started begging for your life, until your lightheaded brain began to register that the garbled, choked and broken pleas and apologies were coming from you.
“I’m s-orry, i’m so-orry- s-orry-”
You don’t know how long you’ve begged, waiting for death to take you while your body writhes in agony. Your eyes glance up to the moonless sky, memories of your younger self flashing before your very eyes, staring at the stars with wonder, dreaming of being amongst them. Your head feels light, your eyes unfocused and body turning cold-
Your eyes shot open the moment his hands left your neck. Instantly, you’re gulping for air, coughing and sputtering as he sits on top of you, his hands on either side of your head. Izana scrutinized you under his watchful gaze, eyes drinking in the sight of your mascara running down your bloodied face, glossed lips parted open for him, taking in air.
You’re so… weak and powerless underneath him, unable to do anything and yet you fought for your life, knowing you would lose to him.
That rawness of fear that acted up as your life flashed before your very eyes shifted something in him. You’re just a weak girl. A weak, vulnerable little girl who thinks she has a bark that he can do whatever he wants to her.
He almost cannot believe the boner growing in his pants right now. He’s never felt this way for you. Meek girls were always so boring to him and yet he wants to fuck you. He wants to claim you as his own personal toy only he can play with.
The familiar thrill, once again. He’s feeling it with you.
You’re still coughing and sputtering as you lay on the ground when Izana mindlessly gets off you. He’s conflicted within himself, wondering if he should leave you for another time or relieve himself there and then. There’s just something so sexy to him about your helpless body at his mercy, he could decide if he wanted to take you here and you would never be able to fight back.
His eyes flickered to your open mouth. That will do.
“Get on your knees.”
Not wanting to take another chance at life, you obeyed instantly ignoring your body aches as you kneel in front of him. Your mouth goes dry when you hear the clinking of his belt and his zipper go down. He moves closer to you until his crotch is right next to your face, shuffling his boxers until his cock springs out, slapping your cheek hard before resting his tip on your lips.
No.
Not again. You can’t go through this again. You already have nightmares of Mikey raping you, you didn’t need Izana there too. 
“Please, I don’t want-”
“Open your mouth.”
You gulped, forcing your eyes closed as your lips parted, opening it for him just enough for his cock to enter. “Izana, please. I’ve never done this before. Please don’t make me do this. Pleas-” you tried to beg, but Izana did not care, rubbing his shaft with pre leaking from his tip.
“Unless you want me to kill you, keep it open.”
A hand reached behind your head ignoring your protests holding it in place as his cock forced its way into your oral orifice, hitting the back of your throat with a loud groan of pleasure escaping his lips. Your gag reflex acted instantly, making you want to pull away but his hand was too strong, forcing you to stay put and take his cock.
Izana wasted no time, his hips rolling his cock inside your wet mouth at a brutal pace. Strings of curses left his lips with each thrust, relishing in the euphoric pleasure of riding your face, fucking into your pretty little mouth. The hot tears rolling down your cheeks, spittle pouring from your lips and the vibrations of your gagging nearly drove him mad.
Why hadn’t he done this earlier?
“That’s it -fuck- you little slut.” Izana hissed, each thrust into your mouth making a loud, wet pornographic noise. “This is -ahn shitshitshit- what you’re good f-for.” He groaned, his hips thrusting faster into your mouth. “Ahn, ahn ugh- f-fuck, s-should h-have fuck-ked you a-at that party ahn-”
You felt dizzy as he continued assaulting your mouth for his pleasure. Dark spots began to gather around your vision as he increased his pace, choking hard on his fat dick with each roll. Your knees ache from digging into the ground hard, your fingers buried in the sand as he fucked your mouth with reckless abandon.
You don’t think you can stay awake anymore. Your head hurts from how hard his grip is. Your throat hurts, your knees hurt, your head feels like you’re floating with how you’re not breathing properly.
You don’t feel good. It hurts so much but you can’t fight back.
“That’s it- ahn ugh fuckfuck-” he quickened his pace to speed up the process of his orgasm. Makoto had only given him three hours, and he is sure they’re almost up. “Yeah, this mouth is for me! Only for me-ahn ahn- you’re my fucking tight slut. Mineminemin- ah-”
Izana thrusted deep into your mouth thrice before cumming hard, pushing his bitter cum down your throat with a low groan, his purple eyes rolling to the back of his head. At the same time, your body instantly gave out, going limp in his hold as his cock slid out of your mouth, falling on the grassy ground with a dull thud.
He adjusted himself again, tucking his now flaccid cock in his pants and wearing them properly. Izana gave you one last look, glancing at your unconscious body before laughing to himself, kicking your shivering form out of his way as he started his journey back to the Tenjiku house.
“Perhaps Mikey was right. You have some use.”
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Bonus scene:
LOVE hated mornings.
Groaning at the fact that she had woken up so early in the morning - 5am to be exact, when her first class was by 2pm, the gyaru tried going back to sleep.
After tossing and turning underneath her blanket, the girl huffed, pushing herself off the bed until her feet touched the ground. Running her hand through her blond hair, she sluggishly walked towards the door, careful not to wake her roommate up.
“Maybe I should get some air, I’m sure it’ll help me sleep back.”
The girl found herself trudging out of the dorms, pushing the door open for her to leave. Not even two steps out of the dorms, Love tripped on something, falling face first on the mahogany floors.
“Ouch!” she hissed, grimacing as she sat up, rubbing her nose. “I just got this nose job done. What gives-”
She stopped short on seeing a blue bag with books scattered everywhere. Her hand reached out to one of them with a name written on it.
“(name) (last name)?” She read it to herself, scoffing the moment she recognized who it was. “That girl always follows the Sano girl like a lost pup. Tch. What’s her stuff even doing out here?”
Deciding not to care about the bag, she dropped the book back and stood up. “Whatever, I’m going on my walk.” She shrugged, walking away from the building to the empty roads. The morning breeze danced on her skin, playing with tendrils of her bleached hair as she walked.
Despite the peaceful aura, Love couldn’t feel at peace with herself. A sense of nervousness crept upon her as she walked, as if there was something wrong. Come to think of it, maybe she shouldn’t have left your bag just like that. It was strange to see your stuff left on the porch.
Unless.
Love didn’t know why her feet started taking her to the hedge just across her dorm building. She was always told that from her young age, she had a heightened sense of danger and as of now, she didn’t doubt that something was wrong.
“Alright. Let’s see what’s going on.” She breathed out, opening the hedge completely.
Her stomach dropped the second she caught sight of a white skirt dirtied in the sand. Quickly, the gyaru ran over to where your body laid and stopped, gasping at the extent of the damage done to your face and neck. She knelt over, picking your unconscious body onto her lap. Her fingers checked for a pulse, realizing how weak it was against your cold skin.
“Oh no, no.” Her voice trembled, throwing off her comfy jacket and wrapping it around you to warm you up. “This isn’t right-”
As her fingers started to dial the emergency number, she wondered what you could have done to deserve this. Yes you followed Emma around, but you were a good girl who hasn’t done anyone harm. Love had always seen you as too sweet, so whoever did this to you was evil.
“Please, stay with me, (name). Stay with me.”
The line finally went through and an operator spoke. “911, what’s your emergency?”
“A girl… a girl was attacked, please hurry, her pulse is weak.”
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Special thanks to: @honeybleed @manjibunny @reiners-milkbiddies @izanaki707 @rukiaslvr @ilovetwodmen @bbykoo-7 @tenjikusstuff4 @cockonoi @koffeenoe @kodzukein @lostsomewhereinthegarden @cashout-princess @aliyxh-o @kay-bear200 @iluv-ace @vixensbrainrotts @missgab @urmomsksk @sweeytheart @charcoal-xl @kokoch4n3l @aliss0n-love-blog @haikyuusboringassmanager @eattmeowt
monica's after note: honestly, after everything that has happened to me last week, I debated if I should put this chapter out or just give up on the project completely. the only reason i put it out is because i made a promise to myself to finish this series this year and i already have the skeletal work drafted out.
please it doesn't take anything for any of you to be respectful to me and yourselves. if you're angry that an author is delaying posting a chapter a few weeks always remember that we are real people, with real lives. the bigoted and racist comments i got last week should be the first and last i should ever see on my account. you saw that i made due with my threat and posted this as i said i would. if you wish to send anon asks, i apologize but they are off permanently. this is also due to the misbehaviour of a certain individual that caused this. do not also go to my mutual's inbox and start talking about me.
to everyone who supported me and sent me support throughout that difficult period of my time on here, thank you very much. you inspired me to keep going and really did not taint my image on this fic. i pray each one of you finds help in the day of your trouble. y'all are real ones.
on a lighter note, i'm pretty salty no one got my haruchiyo reference in the first chapter 'laugh haruchiyo' 'smile (name)' like cmon 😭😭😭 it was THAT obvious /j
edit: please comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. Forgot to add this.
520 notes · View notes
eepywriters · 4 months
Text
.✦°. • A kiss goodbye (*゚∀゚*)
warnings: suggestive 👀
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If there was something you loved, it was lazing around in your big comfy bed, even more if there was a beautiful, sleep-deprived dark haired man next to you.
Unfortunately, today it wasn’t a lazy late morning.
“What time is it” Alex says with a hoarse voice, stretching his back lightly.
“Mhh I don’t care” you mumble sleepily, rutting your head onto his chest.
“Well I care” he mutters, gently running his fingers through your messed up bedhead hair. You feel him shuffle around before a whine of defeat leaves him “fuck its so late”.
You let out an annoyed sound, tightening your hold on him as to silently plead him to stay a little longer. You knew it wasn’t gonna change anything, the dedication to his work being way too strong for him to even consider wasting more time in bed, but it didn’t mean that you couldn’t try. He snorts at your weak attempt, leaving a sweet kiss on top of your head.
“Sorry baby, work calls” he sighs, sitting up with a groan whilst running his hands down his face, a deep exhausted moan leaving him as he tries to shove his sleepiness away.
You don’t find it in your heart to be mad at him, knowing how much he truly put his heart into his job, especially since the start of the Qsmp.
And really, being mad at him would be foolish, because throughout all the stress, the tight agenda and fucked up sleep schedule - you did scold him for that one, but that’s another story - he always made sure to find time for the both of you.
You smile fondly, head spinning as you also sit up on the bed.
“A goodbye kiss first?” you giggle, moving your head towards him.
He smiles, lowering down to meet your lips in a short, gentle, loving kiss.
But one wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.
“Another one” you whisper against his lips. He hums, chuckling softly whilst giving in into your wish.
And one turned into two, and two into three till you eventually lost count (not that you even care about it really, you just want to feel his lips on yours as much as possibile). You really, really couldn’t help it, warmth spreading in your chest every time you two connect again.
The kisses aren’t even special per se, they are mostly rushed and messy and mindless, yet God did it feel euphoric, almost like it was your first time kissing his pretty mouth, over and over again.
“(Name)” he breathes between the soft kisses “I really... need… to go”
“Last one” you whine softly when you separate, chasing after his chapped, but inviting puffy lips.
He really should’ve stopped you at the moment, seeing as he risked being late to an important online briefing, but he really couldn’t resist you. You were his weak spot, his kryptonite (plus he likes to see you desperate for him).
And how could he have ever say no to you, to your half-lidded, foggy, lovely eyes looking straight up at him, your hair still messy from your sleep.
“I’ll be sure to give you a good one then, no complaining after though” he murmurs, bringing one of his hands up to stroke your cheek. His thumb slowly makes it’s way to your lower lip, rubbing it gently, handling you like you’d break at any sudden movement.
Goosebumps travel up the back of your neck and down your spine as you watch him attentively, his enamored gaze enough to make your heart beat faster. How did you even pull him?
A faint cocky grin flashes on his face, eyes lowering to your mouth before he pulls you right back into him again, pinning his lips against yours.
It’s rough, hungry, yet passionate and full of love and devotion at the same time. You both can’t help but whimper when he deepens the kiss, firmly holding you against him by your nape.
His free hand sneaks around your middle, pushing you towards him to invite you to sit on his lap. You kick the blanket out of your way, shivering lightly at the loss of coverage but soon enough finding comfort in Alex’s body heat, enjoying the greater contact.
You can feel the blush creeping up your cheeks as you kiss him fervently, your chest constricting as time passes, begging you for air.
His hands carefully slip under your shirt, smoothing over the skin of your sides while yours go up his chest, arms hugging his neck.
You separate with a gasp, taking in as much oxygen as possible for your aching lungs. You expected Alex to run away, but he stays, pressing his forehead on yours and keeping you firmly against him. His own breath is ragged.
You slowly move back, just to have a good look at his state. God was he beautiful like this, panting for air with rosy cheek, his eyes still shut.
You let your impulsive thoughts win and leave a short peck on one of his moles. He smiles.
A mole after the other, a kiss after the other, you shower his face with kisses. You eventually forget your initial intention and leave them on every little inch of his face, mapping it out with short, affectionate pecks.
His temple, his forehead (you kiss his scar twice for good measure), his eyes, his nose, his cheeks.
Your eyes stop at his lips, eyeing them hungrily while a devious little thought makes it’s way into your fogged head. You leave one last tiny kiss on the corner of his mouth.
His mouth twitches in anticipation. Nothing comes.
He raises an eyebrow expectantly, but you don’t move.
Alex huffs.
His nails paint little half moons on your flesh as he impatiently captures your lips again, eliciting a small giggle from you. You felt drunk, or rather, you were drunk, on his lips, his reactions, his impatience, on him.
One of your hands slowly sneaks foward, now on his nape.
A little alarm sounds in Alex’s head, getting rid of the hazy, lustful smoke that was clouding his mind, as he realizes something; your hands are approaching dangerous territory: his hair.
Don’t get him wrong, Alex is having the time of his life with you on his lap, lips melded and moving together in tandem, but as much as he’d love to spend the rest of his life right here, tangled with you, he knows that the moment you’ll be playing with his hair he’ll be putty in your hands. He begrudgingly leaves your mouth with a shaky sigh, bringing his thumb on your lips again, this time to smear the tiny string of saliva between you across your red, swollen lips.
Your pants fill the quiet bedroom. Your chests heaving together.
“I’ll see you later” he says, swiftly getting up from the bed to prevent himself from getting too caught up with you.
“Yeah, yeah you definitely will” you snicker, biting your lips as you stare at his growing hard-on.
“Oh shut up”.
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writtenbymoonflower · 4 months
Text
Book Blues
Your book is sad and Remus is sweet. fem!reader
800 words
cw: crying, brief mention of smut at the very end (if you blink you'll miss it)
It was far too late to be this awake and reading. In your defense, Remus was still awake too. He was downstairs finishing some report for work and you were upstairs, finishing your book. You didn’t have much left, and you were hoping to finish by the time Remus came up for bed. It made you happy that you and Remus could do your own things but still be as connected as ever at the end of the night. 
Still smiling to yourself, you returned to your book. You were right at the climax and you were scraping your eyes excitedly over the words. You could feel the tension of the scene building, and building, and building, until it all came crashing down. 
Something awful happened. 
As you continued to read you could feel tears well up in your eyes and your sinuses clog with sadness. It may be overdramatic to get this upset, but you loved this book! You felt like you knew these characters themselves and their tragedy affected you greatly. You stayed in the same hunched-over position until you finally reached the end through the blur of salty water in your eyes. You leaned against the headboard, hugging the traitorous book tight to your chest, finally allowing yourself to break down. 
It was a lot of tears for something that wasn’t real, but you couldn't help it! The story resonated with you. You choked out soft sobs, sniffling and hiccupping Through your sobs you couldn’t hear Remus’ gentle ascension up the stairs to your shared room. You couldn’t even hear the creak of your old door as he stepped in. You just kept sobbing. It wasn’t a full-on come apart, but it was clear you were very upset. In your curled position Remus couldn’t see the book in your arms, all he could see was your stained face and shaking shoulders. His heart wrenched, he wondered what had made you so sad.
He wondered what he would have to do if it was someone who made you this upset.
He wondered why you didn't come find him when you started crying.
“Hey Dove, what’s going on?” He tried to keep his voice even to not scare you, but you startled anyway. 
“Mm, ‘s nothing.” You reached one hand up to quickly wipe your damp face. He was obviously very nervous, and you felt bad about scaring your boyfriend. But, you still were processing your book and even if you could talk, he might tease you and your heart couldn’t take that right now. 
“If it was nothing I feel like you wouldn’t be crying this hard, Sweet Girl.” He made the short distance from the door to the bed in two long strides before sitting next to you and rubbing your back soothingly. “Come on, out with it.” He was growing more worried and impatient by the second. 
Physical affection wasn’t something Remus required all the time. He loved it, it just wasn’t a constant thing between the two of you, but he felt like right now called for it. He made quick work of uncurling your arms and turning to face you. He started to pull you into a proper hug but he was stopped by the foreign object in your lap. He pulled away to look down.
“Dove, what’ve you got?” He asked, confused. You looked at him with a sheepish smile. He picked up the book in your lap, recognizing it as the one you had been keeping on your bedside table the past few days. His brows furrowed and he looked confused, before realization fell over his features. “Is this what’s got you so upset?” His brown eyes found yours, looking for confirmation. 
“Yes,” You replied, slightly ashamed and ducking to avoid his eyeline.
“You worry me, poor girl.” He gently chided. His mouth was unturned in a teasing smile. “Was your book sad?” He quickly turned sympathetic, wiping your wet cheeks and nose with his sweater sleeve.
“It was so sad, Remmy.” You played hard into his pity. Your hand came up to wrap around his slim wrist and hold his palm against your face. 
“I’m sorry,” He pouted at you, teasing still flickering in his eyes. “Anything I can do to make you less sad?”
“Yes,” You said grimly, lashes wet with tears. “You can buy me another book.” Your face lit up as you finished the sentence.
“Cheeky,” He pulled your face to his chest, wanting to scold you but he was too endeared. 
“You asked, I was just honest.” You quipped, playful.
“Fair enough, I’ll just have to find you one that’s sadder. You’re a lot sweeter when you’re crying, you know?” 
“You didn’t think so earlier, you were scared.” 
“Well, I’ll just have to have you crying for me in another way.” Your cheeks flamed at the comment. “How does that sound, Dovey?”
396 notes · View notes
cordeliawhohung · 8 months
Text
Blood Soaked Cotton
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Simon Ghost Riley x fem!Reader - part 1 of "soft spot"
Simon Riley finds himself oddly attached to the kind woman who works at the bank he frequents. He tells himself it’s just a friendly connection and nothing more. But the day he walks in and sees the marks, he realizes just how much of a soft spot he’s developed for her.
Warnings: Language, mentions of Ghost's past (trauma, brief mention/descriptions of SA, abuse), implied domestic violence (not graphically described), unwanted grabbing (not groping), alcohol, descriptions of minor wounds and bruises, soft/grumpy Ghost, reader is a bank teller, hurt/comfort, caring for wounds,
wc: 6k
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It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Really, it wasn’t supposed to happen at all. But things never exactly work out how we think they will, and Simon Riley wasn’t a stranger to surprises. 
You had seen his face plenty of times before, though not in the way someone would expect. The low resolution picture on his ID was all you had seen of him, and he was very content in keeping it that way. Because of this, he made sure he always got into your line at the bank, as he didn’t really fancy showing his ID to every other teller there. 
Besides not wanting to pass a literal picture of his face around, he might have had something of a soft spot for you. Or, at least as much of a soft spot as a man like him could muster for someone. The very first day he showed up at the bank, he knew almost every single teller there thought he was trying to rob the place. It wasn’t like he could blame them. His towering height and his partialness towards facemasks didn’t exactly make him the most inviting. But even with the normalization of masks after the pandemic, more often than not he was looked at with fear. 
So when the first teller he went up to demanded that he take his mask off for ‘identification purposes,’ he was a little more than peeved. Every other bank he had gone to pretty much tossed his cash towards him without so much as a second glance. That’s what he got for moving into the big city, he supposed. 
But then you stepped in. Told your co-worker that it was fine, that you would help him with his withdrawal, without the need of showing his face. She gave a little huff, and he knew you were probably breaking a million rules by doing that for him, but either way, he was thankful for it. 
So there he was, once again, in your line at the bank. Simon wasn’t one to particularly enjoy using the more advanced forms of currency exchange. Debit cards were fine, but not his favorite, and he wouldn’t be caught dead using PayPal or any type of phone transfers. Cash was comfortable, familiar, and more reliable in his eyes. And tellers were more trustworthy than ATMs, despite the fact that they were still people. 
“Hey there,” you greeted him with a kind smile. 
With just about everyone else, if you knew it, you greeted them by their name. Especially if they were the old regulars you saw several times a week. But not with Simon. It wasn’t for the lack of knowing it, surely, as his name was obviously tied to the account, and he showed up just as often as the old geezers who were just as untrusting as he was. You didn’t seem scared to use his name, or really scared of him at all. Either way, it was just another small detail he appreciated. 
“Hey,” he responded, feeling awkward speaking but knowing you deserved more than just an empty stare. 
He tossed his items onto the counter in front of you, where they clattered against the glass covered wood with tiny tinks. You took the items in your hands, hardly glancing over his ID before sliding it back to him, face down on the counter. 
“The usual?” you questioned, typing away at your system. You sounded more like a waitress taking his order than a teller. 
“Yeah.” 
It was the same amount of cash out every week. Enough to spend throughout the week, which wasn’t much, and enough to save up throughout the month for things such as rent. Not that you knew that, of course. You never asked him any questions that weren’t absolutely necessary. You were straight and to the point, doing your work with a kind smile that he didn’t think he deserved.
He always felt like such a stain in places like that; around people like you. The people with bright smiles, wearing neat and clean clothes with a perfect nine to five. Those four walls glistened with power and wealth, something that he never really wanted to come close to. Even though being nice to him was quite literally your job, he knew deep down he didn’t belong there. 
If it wasn’t for you, he probably would have switched banks long ago. 
“There you go!” you said, your voice chipper as you held the envelope for him. 
Large hands threatened to engulf yours as he reached for the money, yet his hands never did so much as graze your skin. He didn’t bother counting the cash before shoving it into the pocket of his jacket. It had been months since he had been with that bank, and you hadn’t ever miscounted before; he trusted you with that much, at least. 
“Thanks.” It was short, gruff, and to the point. There wasn’t much time he was willing to waste on pleasantries. Not even to the bank teller who knew his face. 
“Have a good one!” 
Have a good one. It was always the same farewell you gave him. Of course the factitious answer that came to mind was ‘have a good one what?’ but he knew better than to be a smart ass. But really, the question truly was a valid one in his mind. Have a good what? Day? Afternoon? Life?
He was too far gone for that. 
After that day, he didn’t see you for a few weeks. He was off doing what he did best; being a soldier. At times, it felt like it was all he knew how to do. Run. Shoot. Kill. Stab. Wash the blood from his uniform and repeat it all the next day if he even lived long enough to see it. 
But he always did, even when he knew he shouldn’t have. Which meant he always returned back home to that small studio apartment. Some nights it felt all too cramped. Those grimey walls forever oozing nicotine from every single pore because of some asshole who couldn’t be arsed to open a damn window when they smoked. The wood floor that was scratched to all hell. That ugly nightstand he bought off of some old man at a yard sale for five quid. Everything, every detail, every crack in that damn apartment was just one more thing threatening to suffocate him, but he didn’t have the time or energy to let that get the better of him. 
He had to go to the bank tomorrow. 
Goddamn.
When he next returned to the bank, something was off. There was no sign of your usual chipper voice that you greeted your patrons with, and your voice had been replaced with something more hoarse. At first he thought you were maybe just sick, but once he was the next one in line, he realized he couldn’t have been more wrong. 
Your clothes always looked nice. A simple blouse, maybe a nice blazer to go over it if the weather wasn’t too warm. Bank tellers always had a way of looking professional and put together, so it was rather jarring when he saw the state of your face. Not that you were particularly mangled or anything, but the split lip was glaringly obvious. 
It tore the delicate skin of your bottom lip vertically, nearing the corner of your mouth. Dark, crunchy scabs clogged the wound up, and he could tell by the way your tongue kept prodding at it that it smarted something fierce. But it didn’t stop there. A slight bruise on the back part of your cheekbone, an even deeper bruise peeking out from underneath your blouse on your collarbone, a broken nail that chipped off uncomfortably close to your nail bed. 
“Simon?” 
Your voice pulled him out of his head as his eyes stopped wandering over your body and landed back on your face. He tried his best to keep his gaze from wandering to your busted lip, but it was difficult when your tongue kept swiping over it. It was so distracting he almost didn’t register that you used his first name. 
“The usual?” you asked. 
Your smile was lopsided, your swollen lip making it impossible to do it properly. And god, hearing that crackling tone in your voice was almost more off putting than the wounds. As if even just hearing the cheerfulness in your voice would make your state seem less serious. 
“What happened?” he questioned, his hands digging into his pockets to pull out the needed documents. 
A sour chuckle left you as you threw your gaze down at the counter. “Suppose that’s the question of the day, isn’t it?” 
When you looked back up at him, his gaze was stony and unrelenting, as if he wasn’t going to let you sidestep it. You sighed as you looked at his hands. He had everything ready to go, yet he held it close to his chest, as if he wasn’t going to relinquish it until you answered him. 
“Got a little drunk last weekend at the pub. Might have biffed it on the curb walking home,” you explained with a half-assed chuckle. 
It was more than that. Simon knew those wounds all too well, and though he usually saw it on himself and other soldiers, there were rare cases he saw them on others. On civilians. And he knew better than anyone else that wounds like that were caused by more than just pavement. 
But he wasn’t about to accost you at work over it, and so he set his items on the counter in front of you, gently sliding them closer to you. Those dark eyes of his didn’t leave you once. You had become a specimen. This interesting creature he suddenly found himself fascinated with. 
He hummed in response to you as your fingers gingerly grabbed his items and you did your usual routine of retrieving his money. The bright pink Hello Kitty band-aid around your finger made you type slower than you normally did, and he couldn’t help but glance back at your lip as your teeth poked out to bite at it. It was never going to heal properly if you kept doing that, but he kept quiet. 
In no time his cash was in front of him, in that simple envelope that you held out in your hands. Despite the obvious pain you were in, you still smiled at him, lopsided and all. For a moment he stared at you, eyes glancing over your wounds, the abrasions you tried to hide. But only for a moment before he took the envelope and shoved it into his pocket like normal. 
Simon started to turn, ready to go about his normal boring civilian-like life. But before he could fully face away from you, a pit formed in his stomach. Something else was off. Maybe not off, but something was missing. Every part of him was screaming out, screaming for him to find it and put it back, and he found his eyes wandering over to you again. 
You hadn’t said goodbye.
That’s when he noticed the blood dribbling down your chin. Whatever crusting scab that had formed on your split lip had cracked, sending a steady flow of blood from your mouth. Your fingers came up to touch the sudden wetness on your face, and he noticed how your eyebrows drew together and your jaw set tight as you blankly stared at the counter, blood trickling down your hand. 
He should have turned. Should have walked away and left you to your own devices. You were a grown woman. You could take care of yourself. Just as soon as that thought had formed in his head, his hands were already reaching into his back pocket where he pulled out a handkerchief. The cloth sat between his fore and middle fingers, where his hand stiffly extended it out for you to take. 
“Here.” 
It used to be white, but had been stained by various things over the years he had it, and it even sported some fraying on the edges. It was clean, at least. Because of this, he was extremely surprised to hear your response to him. 
“I’ll ruin it.” 
Whatever lively tone you normally held had vanished. Distant eyes, a swollen lip, and a voice that seemed utterly broken. In the time it had taken for him to travel halfway across the world and commit acts that kept him up at night, you had changed. Changed in a way that left a sour taste on his tongue. 
“Just take it,” he pressed, the cloth still hanging limply between his fingers. 
You begrudgingly took it from him and promptly placed it against your face. Oxygenated blood stained the off-white cloth with a bright red. Every single fiber of it soaked up the liquid as if it was the soil drinking up water. 
“Thank you,” you said, the words almost failing to leave your lips. 
He paused for a moment. It should have been him saying those words. You gave him his money. All he did was give you a shitty handkerchief. 
“Have a good one,” he said before fully turning around and making his way towards the exit. 
He could practically hear the smile in your voice as you responded. “I’m trying.” 
Once he got home, he tried to forget about it. There was no time or energy in his busy life for him to be worrying about you and your… situation. If he tried to care for every kicked puppy he found he wouldn’t even have the space to breathe. 
But that night when Simon was sharpening his knives, trying to keep his hands and mind busy, he cut his finger. Nothing bad, hardly anything to wince at, but still bleeding enough for it to be a hassle. He reached his hand into his back pocket, only to find nothing. 
“Fucking hell.” 
This is why he hated soft spots. All they did was muddle things up. But what he hated more than that was how he kept trying to rationalize it. No, you weren’t a soft spot, it was just convenient. You were familiar. You were predictable. 
Or at least he thought you were. It wasn’t until he came in the following week that he realized you were a bit different than the persona you wore at work. The very moment he walked through those doors, you were basically beaming. No longer lopsided, your smile was nothing short of a grin as he saw your hands instantly swim around in the pockets of your blazer. He approached you cautiously, a little putoff by how excited you were to see him. 
“I got you something,” you said, grinning. 
He stared at you for a moment as you pulled your hand out of your pocket. Though still extremely visible, your lip had healed up to the point where it probably wouldn’t crack anymore. The dark bruises on your collar bones had also begun to yellow, the blood that pooled there decomposing within you. 
And then you showed him your… gift. A dark handkerchief that had tiny cartoon dogs patterned onto it. You held it out to him like a child showing their parents some shitty art project that they did in school. 
“Figured you’d need another one after I ruined the one you gave me,” you said, wiggling it in your hands for him to take. “You also strike me as a dog person, so this seemed fitting.”
In a way it was almost cute. The idea of it certainly striked you so, anyway. Thinking about this large, somewhat intimidating man keeping something as dainty as a dog patterned handkerchief was certainly entertaining. Much to your surprise, and his own, he actually reached out and took it from you, though he did scoff at the sight of it before shoving it into his back pocket. 
Getting straight to business, he handed you all the necessary items to make the withdrawal from his account, which you happily helped him with. The band aid that had been on your finger the previous week was long gone, revealing your still bloody nail bed. Dark blood pooled just under the nail, almost as if you had painted it with nail polish before giving up after one finger. Still, you were able to type faster than you had the previous week at least.
“Run into any more poles over the weekend?” Simon asked. His dark eyes glanced down at your finger before flickering to your collarbone and then your eyes. 
Pausing, you looked up at him with eyebrows drawn together. “Huh? Oh, yeah uhm… not this weekend,” you answered with an awkward chuckle. 
Simon hummed, crossing his arms over his chest, making him appear even more broad than he already was. For another moment or two he carefully watched you as you counted the cash. As you put it into the envelope, the sleeve of your blazer pulled up slightly, revealing an old bruise on your wrist he hadn’t seen last time. 
“Good,” he responded as you slid the envelope his way. 
The problem with lying wasn’t that it was seen as a shitty thing to do; it was that it was difficult to keep up the narrative. By the sound of it, you were out of practice, and Simon caught onto it almost instantly. Last week it was a curb you fell on. That week, you didn’t correct him when he switched it up. This only further proved his point; that only another pair of hands could do something like that to someone. 
But he already knew that. And so did you.
“See you next week!” you smiled at him. 
That was… different. Much different from your usual farewell to him, and not just in the change of words, but the change of tone as well. You still held that same cheerful tone, but there was another layer to it. Not quite a demand, but not exactly a request either. Perhaps it was… 
A plea? 
But you were right. He did see you the week after that, and the one after that. Each time he saw you, the bruises faded a little more, and your busted lip slowly mended. You talked more than just your regular customer service autopilot, and it was endearing. Of course you did most of the talking, and Simon mostly listened, but every now and then you would pull the ghost of a chuckle from his mouth, or maybe he’d force you to indulge in one of his rather dry jokes. 
Even some of the other tellers, despite their still cautious glances at him, seemed to warm up to him a little bit. Perhaps he had you to thank for that, not that he was exactly trying to win their favor in the first place. Maybe a little comradery with strangers wasn’t such a bad thing. 
Until it was. 
“Would you want to go to the bar with me after work tonight?” 
October brought in a sharp chill to the air that had you wearing a nice knitted sweater to help stave off the draft in the building. Its dark background with popping jack-o-lantern theme matched perfectly with your area of the bank. Despite it only being halfway through the month you had already prepared for Halloween with a bowl of candy sitting on the counter and themed jelly stickers on the window behind you. 
He answered you with a hum, almost sounding confused. Pubs weren’t exactly Simon’s scene. He hated the scent of shitty IPA’s and the grumbling drone of music that hardly anyone listened to anyway. 
“The pub on twenty-first just started selling their seasonal Halloween drinks. They make this super tasty mix with the theme of like, vampires or whatever, that I’ve been dying to try again,” you said, bouncing on your heels. “But none of the girls here want to come with me, and I really hate going anywhere like that alone, so I thought I’d ask you.” 
He wanted to say no. He should have said no. Yet his gruff response left his lips before he had the chance to smother them, and later that night he found himself outside of the pub you described. 
It was a bit nicer than most other bars he had been to, but the very moment he stepped foot inside he knew it was just like the rest. Sour, hoppy scented beer assaulted his nose similar to how it did when it clung to his father’s clothes as a child. Mugs clinked against the wooden bar at the back of the building, and someone was busy racking up a pool table somewhere to his left. 
You stuck out like a sore thumb in your jack-o-lantern themed sweater, arms leaning against the counter as you hunched over your drink. The Friday night crowd parted for him as he made his way to the bar, grabbing the high stool and dragging it out a bit in order to seat himself next to you. 
Meeting in a place like that, Simon had expected things to be awkward, or maybe even a little tense, but it was almost as if nothing could bring you down. Maybe it was just the alcohol (some dark red, fruity scented drink that made his stomach turn) or maybe this was just how you were like when you weren’t at work, but you had turned into an absolute chatterbox. Jumping from topic to topic, his mind was beginning to spin, but it came to a screeching halt once the focus landed on him. 
“So, military, huh?” you asked. Your fingers lazily stirred your straw around in your drink. It was your second one, and he had a sneaking suspicion that the bartender might have made it a tad too strong for you to handle. 
Simon nodded, his own hands wrapped around a plastic cup. You had insisted that he at least drink a bit of water, which he hadn’t done at all. The ice had long since melted in the cup, and the condensation had made a puddle on the counter. 
“What’s that like?” you questioned further, your body pushing further into the counter as you tried to keep his attention. 
He gave you a dull shrug. “It’s work.” 
A slight pout appeared on your lips as you let go of your straw. “Oh, come on. It’s gotta be more interesting than that!” Before you could complain any further, you quickly snapped your fingers, a slight grin appearing on your face. “Wait, I get it! You can’t tell me because you work on high priority missions. Like secret agent shit, right?”
It took everything in him to hold back a slight chuckle at your childish dreaming. “Something like that.” 
Leaning forward, your lips wrapped around your straw as you drew in a deep sip of your drink. The sugary liquid coated your tongue in an almost sickening way. You knew if you drank much more, it would make you sick, not exactly from the alcohol but just from how sweet it was. Still, you forced it down your throat before leaning your head against your hand. 
“Must be neat,” you said in awe. “Despite all the military stuff, anyway. I bet you get to travel the world and see so many neat things. I’d kill for an opportunity like that… no pun intended.” 
Your bluntness caught him off guard, so much so it brought a grumbling chuckle tearing out of his throat. The very sound of it caused you to grin; grin even wider than you ever had before. His eyes flickered to your lips, reveling in the way they curled upwards, almost as if proud of yourself. As if you had been trying to get him to laugh for ages (which you might have been). Yet he couldn’t help but focus slightly on the corner of your lip and that bit of raised scar tissue that was so faint you couldn’t really see it unless you knew what you were looking for. 
“You should probably make that drink your last one for the night,” he said, his hands crinkling his plastic cup. “Don’t think I can stand your shitty puns much longer.” 
You laughed a little as you looked down at your drink. It was nearly empty, and slightly watered down at that point due to the melted ice. Everything felt warm, somewhat because of the alcohol, and somewhat because of your knitted sweater. 
“Right, of course. I forgot the bad jokes were your thing. Didn’t mean to steal your thunder or anything,” you teased. 
After that, you quickly sipped up the rest of the drink before setting it back on the counter with a dull thunk. Things had only gotten more crowded as the night drew on, and he found whatever social battery he had quickly being drained because of it. 
“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” you said softly, head returning to lean against your hand as you looked up at him. Even sitting next to him he was still so much bigger than you. “Honestly, I thought you were going to say no. Doesn’t really seem like your type of place so… just know I appreciate it.” 
What gave that impression? His tense shoulders? Or his eyes flickering around the room at least twenty times every minute like he was constantly on edge? 
“Don’t mention it,” he said, his voice low and rumbly. 
You smiled something soft, something fleeting as your eyes dropped down to look at his hands clasped around the cup of water. He hadn’t taken a single sip of it the entire time the two of you sat there. Not that you had expected him to, anyway. Certainly not with that mask of his. Maybe some time in the future you’d ask him about it, but that moment wasn’t the right time. 
“I’ll probably be headed out, then,” you said, pushing your empty glass towards the bartender who swiped it away almost instantly. “I’ll just make a quick stop by the bathroom. You can head out now if you don’t want to stick around.” 
He sat there for a moment in thought. Mind wandering to the faded bruises that had once littered your body, your wrist, your cheek. How blood dribbled down your chin in a crimson river, nearly staining your pristine blouse. And for a moment he couldn’t remember when that image of you started to plague him worse than that of the death and gore he had seen out in the field. 
“I’ll wait,” he said after deliberating. And then, “sure you don’t need a ride?” 
“No, I’ll be alright. I walked here,” you assured him as you slid out of your seat. 
Somehow that was worse. 
You slipped away before he could protest that idea, and he grumbled as he pushed his cup of water towards the end of the bar. Shitty music filled his ears as he sat there waiting for you, and without your voice to drown out the commotion around him, it consumed him. Sharp crack of the billiard balls crashing together, the scent of greasy pub pizza, the ringing of a bell as the door opened, the chilling October breeze bleeding into the building, the stale scent of cigarettes. 
A new loud, and frankly irritating, voice filled the bar, and it was so grating Simon found himself twisting in his seat to see the idiot for himself. He was a tall man, shorter than him but still enough to stick out in the crowd. By the looks of it he had already pregamed pretty hard before showing up, but other than being annoying, there was no reason for Simon to concern himself with the man. 
So he turned back around, taking his dark gaze off of the man as he continued to sit there, waiting for you. Which was taking much longer than he had expected. Perhaps you had broken the seal and all the alcohol you had consumed was passing straight through you. Either way, he would wait all night if he had to. He had decided there was no way in hell he was going to allow you to walk home alone from a pub. 
That’s when he heard your name. It felt odd hearing it come from such an ear-aching voice, and he couldn’t help but snap his head back over to the annoying patron that had caught his attention previously. 
And that’s when he saw you, face flushed from the alcohol, standing hardly a few steps away from the bathrooms with wide eyes. He knew that expression well. It was something he saw a lot. On his mothers face when his father returned home from a night of drinking. On the face of an enemy he stood above, ready to deal the final blow. On his own face when he looked in the mirror as a child. 
“Don’t talk to me.” Even over the dull drum of the music he could hear your voice. Despite how shaky you sounded, it was still surprisingly strong. But not strong enough to ward off the patron. 
“Come on, don’t be like that,” the man pushed, his words slurring as he attempted to saunter closer to you. “I missed you, you know that?”
Before you knew it his hand was wrapped around your wrist and the stench of alcohol was hot on his breath as it fanned across your face. It sent Simon’s stomach twisting almost painfully, so painfully that he stood from his seat, boots thumping as they marched across the bar floor. 
Then came the sound of flesh crashing against flesh as the palm of your hand slapped the man across the face. It was enough to grab the attention of everyone in the surrounding area, including the bartender who looked like he was one bad comment away from dialing 999. 
“Get your fucking hands off of me,” you seethed.
Unfortunately for you, the slap hardly seemed to phase him, and his grip only tightened. The man’s jaw set taut as his other hand came up and grabbed your waist with bruising force, drawing you closer to him as he bared his teeth in a snarling grin. 
“You fucking minx.” 
It was disgusting. The very sight of that man with his hands on you like he had won a prize. Greedy fingers digging into your flesh like he planned to take, and take, and take. Simon had seen it all before. Seen it in his own flesh as unwanted hands clawed at him. Felt it on his face in the form of a vile, wet tongue swiping around his mouth. It was in the screams he couldn’t hold back as the hook tore through his flesh. It was in the blood that spilled down his body as he hung there while they laughed. It was in the maggots that he sat in as he was buried alive. It was-
It was the pain he felt in his hand as his knuckles collided with the man’s jaw, snapping his head to an uncomfortable angle. In an instant his body went rigid and then limp. Those revolting hands fell away from you as his body collided with the floor beneath him, and the only sound he was able to make was a fit of air leaving his lungs upon impact. 
Everything fell silent except for the sound of that terrible, incessant music that blared over the speakers. All Simon could do for a moment was stare down at the man as the lights slowly flickered back on in his head, a low groan bubbling in his throat as his hands pawed at his surely aching jaw. 
Movement caught the corner of his eye, and he quickly turned his head where he found you rubbing at your wrist. Yarn from your knitted sweater stuck out of the edge of your sleeve at odd angles, having been tugged on too violently to hold together properly. He saw the tears prickling the edge of your eyes, and that was the last straw for him. 
Simon led you out of the pub after tossing some cash the bartender's way, leaving that shitty music and that asshole far behind the two of you. He walked you home just like he told himself he would, and a long stretch of silence sat between the two of you until you reached your front door. 
It wasn’t until he helped you inside that you noticed his split knuckles. In a way, it reminded you of the way your lip had split with that tiny, vertical cut. He didn’t seem phased in the slightest, and yet you practically begged him to let you clean him up. Something that he begrudgingly obliged to. 
As you led him into your living room, he tried to ignore the fist shaped hole in the wall by the entrance, and the discarded lamp on the counter that looked like someone had attempted to glue the shattered glass back together. He let you sit him down on the couch while you disappeared off into the bathroom to retrieve any first-aid items that you had stored away. 
Blood soaked into the swab you used to dab away at the wounds on his knuckles, cleaning it with a little bit of rubbing alcohol. It caught him off guard just how gentle you were with him; with the hands that had just knocked the lights out of someone. His eyes didn’t leave you for a second as you held his hand, working with the diligence of a surgeon cutting someone open. And maybe in a way you were; cutting him open, looking at the soft parts of him that he hid behind his mask. 
It wasn’t until after you put a few Hello Kitty band-aids over his knuckles that you explained just who that man was. He was your ex, and he was responsible for almost all the damage that had been done in your life. The hole in your wall, the bruises that had littered your collar bone, the broken lamp, your split lip. 
Never before had he been so glad to harm someone. Any other time it was a necessity. Saving himself. Saving a comrade. Nothing that he ever took pleasure or joy in. It was just work. But that? Hurting that man the way he did? He took joy in that.
When it came time for him to leave, you walked him to the door, your head feeling fuzzy from the mix of alcohol and from the anxiety that had held your chest in a vice grip for the last hour. As Simon ducked out of the doorway, you couldn’t help but smile slightly. 
“See you next week, Simon.” 
That was the moment that he decided he liked the way his name sounded when you said it. You never barked it like an order, or screamed it in anger. He had hated his name for a long while, hated being called anything other than his callsign for work. But when it came from your lips, well, maybe it wasn’t all that terrible. 
“Yeah,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. The band-aids pulled awkwardly at his skin as he paused on the porch of your apartment. “See you next week.” 
He vanished off into the night and you shut and locked the door behind him before returning to the living room to clean up the mess you made patching him up. All you could think about while you cleaned up the blood soaked cotton was the tone of his voice, and the fact that you don’t think you had ever heard him say a farewell like that to you, if at all. 
The very same thought plagued his mind as he made his way back to the pub where he had parked his car. His tone had even caught himself off guard. It was almost as if he was making a promise to you. Maybe he was. 
A huff of air pushed through his nostrils, mask muffling the sound as he shook his head at himself. Fingers flexed in his pockets and he ignored the slight sting of the freshly broken skin. 
It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. It wasn’t supposed to happen at all. And though Simon Riley wasn’t a stranger to surprises, he didn’t think he’d find himself making promises so soon to the only soft spot that had grown in his life.
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forgettable-au · 3 months
Text
WHAT IS THIS AU? HOW DOES IT WORK?
A brief (I'm lying, this is a long post) explanation post for this AU for anyone new <3
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As I've mentioned before, this AU is based on the theory that Papyrus is (was) Gaster. I did not create this theory, it has existed for a long time as far as I know and I'm also not the first person to do something like this with the concept, I'll touch up on that later.
This is a LONG post, so click keep reading if you really want to check it out :D
About the Papyrus is Gaster theory
I've looked up a lot of stuff about it but I don't actually know where it originated. It's not super popular but if you're a Papyrus theorist you might have heard of it before.
It's not a super serious theory really, it's more about pointing out the weird connections and similarities between Papyrus and Gaster and giving an explanation to the many weird things about Papyrus and his lack of backstory.
Just to mention some things:
Them both speaking in capital letters, having no asterisks, their weird way of phrasing things, Papyrus being described as forgettable, Papyrus hating hotland, pretending he doesn't know about a lot of stuff ( The lab for example, he know what a lab is but pretends he doesn't in front of Sans), Gaster being related to hands and Papyrus never taking his gloves off, Papyrus weird connection with phones (his photo-graphic memory for phone calls) and Gaster's weird connection to phones also(Fun events related to phones, using the phone in the darkworlds and only getting Gaster's garbage sounds), their love for puzzles (The CORE is a giant puzzle), THAT one quote that I still find misterious “beside, it’s rude to talk about people that are listening, right? not everyone is as though as my brother”, Papyrus DOES have Gaster blasters it's pretty much canon even if a lot of people ignore it, Papyrus is very very smart he has a LOT of books, knowledge on many subjects, building stuff, and even made a shakespeare reference when he died (why is he like this lmao), he's the character with the most dialogue in game yet we don't know a lot of stuff about him, he breaks the laws of physics and of the game, he's not in deltarune the heavily Gaster connected game.
Now that's some of the things I could think about, and look, yeah I'm probably looking too much into it and these are all just coincidences and the weird Papyrus things are related to other stuff maybe not Gaster. But I still like this theory, not because I think it's real but because I LOVE the possibilites!!!
About how this AU works
Okay, so this au is basically a -pretend this theory is real and how would the undertale timeline work then!- We're giving Papyrus his backstory and I'm also making a Gaster focused story at the same time.
I will adapt basically how I think a situations like this would play out (and also add some of my other favorite ut theories as a treat)
Papyrus used to be Wingdings and then Wingdings shattered across time and space, Papyrus and Gaster are different separate people.
Actually I kind of, treat WIngdings before and after accident as different people also... you change a lot when you become an omnipresent being. So, Wingdings, Gaster and Papyrus I treat them all as different people.
"How did Gaster become Papyrus?"
He didn't "become" Papyrus just like that. After he shattered he stopped existing like he was before, he became a being in another layer of the game but physically his body was just there
I based this on how the goners and Gaster followers have counterparts that are not, uh, goners that look different or deformed and gray
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Papyrus was just kind af an empty shell at first, he still kept parts of Wingdings original personality but his Papyrus personality developed on his own with time!
"How did Gaster shatter across time and space?"
Usually everyone agrees it was because he fell into the CORE
Not here! I don't think the CORE caused his accident, it is a power source not a time and space altering machine. In this story it was some other thing he was working on, and it wasn't so much of an accident per se
About similar content
I've seen some people tell me this is a good idea for an AU and I agree!! I love this idea so much, but as I said before I didn't create this concept or theory I just love it a lot!! and was desperate for content wich I surprisingly did not found much of
I was so surprised, I really thought there would be more people that made this before but I couldn't find much, so I'm just making it myself and one of my goals is to maybe make other people like this idea and make their own takes on it !! cause i think it's neat and would love more perspectives and content
If you by any chance also like this concept as much as I do I just wanted to make this section to name some inspirations for this AU
First, you all should really see "I know that I know nothing" by linssins
It's because of this comic that I discovered that theory in the first place and really loved the concept. It's my main inspiration, unfortunately the comic is unfinished. If you see it you will definitely see how I took inspiration... Still my story and this au is a different take on the theory, it goes on a different path.
Also another inspiration for finding more stuff about the theory were
@askthesciencesquad This comic is paused but it's also a Papyrus!Gaster comic! and I was very happy to find it, it is also a very different take on the concept but I liked where it was going. The same person also has this other blog where they put a lot of Papyrus is gaster stuff :0 @deviodofmeat
Okay so that's it, maybe I missed some stuff? but if I remeber i'll just add it later, that's what's good about tumblr.
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flightlessangelwings · 4 months
Text
His Strength
Din Djarin x fem!reader
Word count- 3.8k
Dialogue prompt- “ hey! get away from them! “ and “ don’t worry about me; are YOU okay? “ Action prompt- [ SACRIFICE ]: sender sacrifices themselves, either fatally or otherwise, in order to save the receiver’s life.
Warnings-s.mut (18+ ONLY!), fwb to lovers, protective!Din, bounty hunter reader, injury, brief violence, brief torture scene (not super descriptive and no needles or anything like that), light angst, happy ending, mutual pining, feelings, no use of y/n, ambiguous on where in the timeline it is but razor crest lives
Notes- We made it, this is the last of my Year of Protectiveness @yearofcreation2023! I actually had a different idea at first, but after some personally tragedy, I wanted to write something a little more angtsy. Don't worry tho it's still a happy ending and no major character death! Thanks so much to those who have supported this year theme endeavor with me!
@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date!
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~
When you first partnered with a Mandalorian bounty hunter in the guild, you never expected how much it would change your life. What started as a one time alliance for convenience turned into a partnership built on mutual respect for the other. And everything changed even more the day Mando came to you asking for help with a child he had taken in. He had told you what happened, and how he made the decision to save the child instead, and it awoke something within you that day. Even as he rescued the child from the Client, you stayed by his side and as the two of you traveled the galaxy, you felt the dynamic shift between you two.
It changed the Mandalorian that day too. From under the armor, he had always respected you, but seeing you with the child made him feel something he had never felt before. He found that his gaze lingered on you when you weren’t looking, and he found himself wondering what life would be like if you and the child could stay with him forever… as a family. 
Neither of you were sure when it happened. You were just partners one moment, and the next, became something more. There was never a whisper of it spoken out loud, though, just both of you knew something shifted. Even if it was simply for release, it changed everything between you two. He even murmured his real name to you in the throws of passion- a gift you treasured and kept safe in your heart. 
*
Sweat lined your brow as you writhed beneath the Mandalorian. His low grunts echoed from under his helmet while you bit your lip to stifle your moans. Din, as always, never took anything off, only freed his cock. You stayed mostly covered as well, something you wondered if he did to keep things feeling leveled, as if he didn’t want to feel like he was overpowering you. Only your bottoms came off, and even then they stayed around your ankles.
It started fast, heated, and fiery. The first time you and Din slept together was quick, as if you were both concerned with the moment running away from you. He just pushed your pants down enough and took you against the wall. And even with the rush, it was still a more intimate connection you had ever felt in your life. You couldn’t tell at the time, but Din felt the same way.
Over time, it moved from the wall to Din’s bunk, and from hot and hurried to slow and sensual. Din at times handled you with sure care that you wondered if he thought you would break. The way he caressed every inch of you made your heart flutter in your chest as you looked at him with a glazed over expression. Neither of you were sure when exactly it happened, but something changed as the two of you came together time and time again.
You felt it with every thrust of his cock. Though you never saw his face, you felt the emotions behind his movements and his touch. You looked into the darkness of his vizor, locking eyes with him behind it. A louder moan escaped your lips as he rocked into you again, filling you to the brim.
“Din…” you murmured as you ran your hands across his chest.
“I’ve got you,” he groaned in a low tone that went right to your core.
You whimpered at the care that lined his voice. Moving before you could second guess yourself, you let go of his broad shoulders and reached down for your own top. You grabbed and pulled it over yourself in one swift movement, exposing more of your body to Din.
He paused as his helmet nodded up and down as he soaked in the sight of your bare chest, “You’re beautiful,” he groaned as his hands wandered across your breasts. 
Mirroring your action, Din surprised you by quickly removing his gloves so that he could touch your bare skin. Both of you gasped when his large hand cupped your jaw first, then trailed down to your breast. He remained inside you yet stayed still as both of you froze in the moment. Din’s thumb brushing across your nipple was the only movement save for the way both your chests expanded with your heavy breaths.
A whimper escaped your lips as Din caressed your breast, gently pinching your nipple as he fondled you. He worshiped your body with his touch and you could hear the heavy breaths from under his helmet. Heat rose between the two of you as he kneaded your breasts.
Din murmured your name as his hand trailed up your chest and along your arms until he took your hand in his. Leaning forward, Din pressed his forehead against yours as he covered your body with his own and resumed his thrusts.
This time, you couldn’t hold back your moans. Between the way he pounded into you and the emotions that came with the intimacy of the moment, you couldn’t help the way you cried out. Din’s cock hit spots deep inside you that you never felt before, and it brought tears to your eyes.
“Fuck… Din…”
“I know,” he groaned, “Me too…”
His hand clasped around yours as he sped up his thrusts, rocking into you with abandon. You arched your back into him as you squeezed his hand right back, and your eyes fluttered shut as you felt your climax quickly approach. 
“Din… I’m…” was all you could get out before your orgasm hit you. Your entire body trembled under his beskar-clad one as you came hard on his cock. Your cries echoed in the small space as you felt Din hit your sweet spot over and over again, making you feel a pleasure unlike anything you ever experienced before.
Din growled your name as his hips became more erratic until he too hit his peak. He dropped down onto his elbows, all while never letting go of your hand as he felt wave after wave of pleasure crash through him as he spilled himself deep inside you.
Heavy breaths filled the small space between your bodies as Din rode out your orgasms together. With one final deep thrust, Din groaned as he stilled himself for a moment until he pulled out of you completely. You let out a soft whine at the loss as you felt your body pulse from the aftershocks of your powerful climax.
He gave your hand one last squeeze before he finally let go, and Din immediately grabbed your shirt so that you could cover yourself.
Mumbling a hushed “thanks,” you maneuvered yourself in the tiny space to dress yourself, slipping your shirt on before shimmying your pants back up. Vaguely, you felt Din’s gaze on you as he helped you move around on the cot. For a moment, you didn’t dare look at him. The emotions were too overwhelming after what happened. Something changed in the air between you two, but neither of you were sure how to address it.
That was when you noticed his hand still lingered on your body, holding you tightly. “Din…” you started in a whisper.
But you were interrupted when a coo from a distance made you both look up. Grugu babbled happily as he made his way outward the bunk and climbed in, settling himself in between you two.
You smiled brightly as you finally looked at Din, “We didn’t wake him did we?” you asked in embarrassment.
“I hope not,” he replied with a soft laugh in his tone, “I’m sure it’s fine,” he reassured you. 
You couldn’t help but giggle as the little child made himself comfortable between the two of you. Faintly, you heard his laughter with yours and it made your heart soar.
Din tilted his head affectionately, “Rest now,” he cradled your face, “We all need some sleep.”
Swallowing hard, you nodded. Wiggling your way around where Grogu already made himself comfortable, you laid down on your side and exhaled deeply. Din did the same after you were settled and he placed himself so that he could wrap his arm around both you and the child, holding you both close, keeping you both safe.
“Goodnight,” you murmured before you drifted off. Surprisingly, it took you no time to fall asleep, perhaps because you were warm and comfortable… and safe.
The Mandalorian, however, laid awake for some time, just listening to you and Grugu sleep. Everything he could ever want in the galaxy was tucked safely in his arms, yet it all felt so far at the same time. He knew neither you nor the child were truly his, yet he felt like the three of you were already a family. If you only knew just how much you meant to him… 
*
“I have a bad feeling about this,” you mumbled.
Din glanced over at you, but said nothing. He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze before he stepped in front of you. 
The alleyway felt like it closed in around you. Dim lights led the way as you, Din and Grogu tracked the fob and the bustle of the city faded into the distance. It was quiet, but not calming. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something felt wrong, and everything in you screamed to turn around.
Din's presence anchored you, though, and you stayed at his side as you carefully made your way toward where the fob guided you. With each step, it beeped louder until you all turned down one last alley that led to a small shack.
“Careful,” Din hissed under his breath to you.
You and Din each hovered your hands over your weapons, ready to strike. Din scanned the area, and when he found no movement, he nodded to you and opened the door slowly. You held your breath as the two of you pointed your blasters into the small space, ready for anything. However, as you inched closer, you noticed that the target laid still. Scrunching your brows, you reached a hand out to check, and with a sigh you turned back to Din, “He’s already dead.”
Din let out a soft grunt. You were right- something was off about this. But, before he could even reply, an explosion knocked both of you off balance. He shouted your name as he instinctively tried to reach for you, but you were knocked too far away from him.
A yelp escaped your throat as you found yourself thrown against the nearby wall. You groaned as your body ached, but you forced yourself up onto your elbows. Grogu’s pram was pushed next to you, and through the smoke in the distance where the front wall used to be, you saw numerous shadows appear. Din laid on the ground on the other side of the space, groaning as he too pushed himself back up.
Acting quickly, you shot up to your feet and grabbed onto the pram, “Get out of here, Grogu,” you told him and you gathered your strength, “Get out of here and get help,” you strained as you pushed the pram as hard as you could, sending it hurling out the window and into the darkness. You watched it disappear for a moment before you turned to your companion, “Din,” you breathed.
He looked over at you, but before he could even say your name, another figure appeared behind you and knocked you unconscious. Din yelled, both in fear and in anger, and attacked the enemies with everything he had, fighting until he too found his world completely black.
*
You felt the pain before you opened your eyes; your entire body ached. Faintly, you heard voices and clamoring around you, and it took you several seconds to blink your eyes open. When you did, you found yourself in a brightly lit room with several men around you. Gasping, you tried to move, but you found yourself strapped down- your wrists were bound at your sides and your ankles were tied at the end of the table you currently laid on.
“You joined us just in time,” a sinister voice spoke.
Snapping your head in the direction of the voice, you saw a tall man with a rod in his hands. The rod sparked at the end, and you knew immediately what it was for. You spat a curse at him as you struggled to get out of your binds, but that only amused him.
“She’s feisty,” he commented, “I see why you keep her around, Mando,” he moved aside to reveal Din behind him, also bound but in a different way.
The Mandalorian was on his knees, his wrists cuffed together in front of him, and several men strained to keep him in place. His shoulders rose and fell with deep breaths, and you could hear the snarl in his breathing.
“Maybe now you can tell us where the child is,” the man continued as he stepped towards you, the rod pointing right at you.
“Get away from her!” Din shouted, “Let her go!”
He ignored him, the rod hovering just above your skin, “Let’s hear how pretty you are when you scream,” he hissed.
“No!” Din struggled in vain as he tried to break free.
The searing pain from the rod against your skin made you scream before you could fight it. Pulse after pulse of electricity shot through your entire body, and it was the worst pain you had ever felt in your life. Your eyes snapped shut as you tried to wriggle away, but it was no use. You were trapped, and there was nothing you or Din could do.
Your screams went right to Din’s chest, “Stop!” he shouted. Fueled by his rage at seeing you hurt, Din finally broke free of his captors and with a grunt, knocked them out. “It’s me you want. Leave her alone,” Din panted, “Don’t hurt her.”
Din smashed the binders that held his wrists together, shattering it, before he grabbed his small vibroblade that he kept hidden. The room turned into a frenzy as the other men attacked him, but he fought them off until he reached the leader, the one who hurt you.
Amused at the scene, the leader pulled out a blade of his own and countered Din's attack, “Is this… love, Mandalorian?” he asked as he parried Din's attack.
The Mandalorian just growled as rage consumed him. He went blade to blade with the leader a few times, but he soon made a mistake. Din glance over at you, still bound to the table with tears in your eyes. He hesitated for just a moment as the sight of you like that broke him, and that was when the leader stuck, stabbing Din right between the plates of his armor.
“Has a woman made you soft?” he teased in a low voice as he drove the blade deeper, "How sweet," he spat.
Your eyes went wide as your mouth opened to let out a scream, but nothing came out. Instead, all you could croak out was a hushed, "Din..."
Tears fell from your eyes as you wailed and thrashed in your binds, desperate to do something. Maniacal laughter filled the room as Din slumped down, the blade still in his body. You whimpered as you tried to fight through the pain that coursed through your body and free yourself, but it was no use. This was the end. And you didn’t even get to tell him…
Suddenly, the wall on the far side burst open in an explosion and dozens of Karga’s men flooded into the room. They fought off your captors in a heated fight. And through the flames and blaster fire, you saw the familiar outline of the child, who waddled over to you. It was the last thing you saw before you passed out from the pain. 
*
Din woke with a gasp. The last thing he remembered was getting stabbed, hearing you scream and then an explosion. He had no idea where he was, but he did notice that his hands weren’t bound anymore. And the pain had dulled to an ache in his side. But, more than his own injuries, he was more concerned with where you were. Thankfully for him, your voice was the next thing he heard.
“Din,” you gasped, “It’s alright, we’re ok,” you were right next to him.
Din laid back down with a groan as the pain suddenly intensified. But it didn’t matter, you were here, and you were ok. He whispered your name, “What happened?”
“Grogu found backup,” you sounded tired, “Karga and the others found us just in time.”
He groaned, “Grogu?! Where is he?”
“Shh,” you tried to calm him, knowing how much the kid meant to him, “He’s alright. He’s resting in the next room. It took a lot out of him… healing us…”
“Are you alright?” was his next question after a pause.
Your eyes went wide, “Don’t worry about me. Are you ok?”
Din cupped your face, “As long as you and the kid are alright…”
“Don’t say that,” tears filled your eyes before you could stop them. You let out a shaky breath before you added, “Din, you… You sacrificed yourself… For me…” your voice trembled. 
He groaned as he slowly pushed himself up to sit. You mumbled incoherent concerns as you helped him up, and once Din was upright, he found himself almost eye level with you due to the height of the cot. Din let out a heavy sigh as his heart skipped a beat in his chest at the way you looked at him. Though he hated to see tears in your eyes, he noticed the care and concern that highlighted your features.
“Din…” you breathed as he cupped your face once more.
As he gently cradled your face in his hand, Din murmured, “Keeping you and Grogu safe,” he hissed slightly from the pain, “Is all that matters to me. You two are all that matter to me.” Din spoke in a sincere voice.
Fresh tears filled your eyes, but not ones of sadness. You longed to hear him say those words, and now that you heard them, the emotions became overwhelming. “I care about you too, Din,” you whispered as you leaned into his touch, feeling his thumb brush across your cheek, “You and the kid… You’re my family. My everything.”
Din let out a deep breath, “I trust you,” his tone was soft, “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” you breathed without hesitation.
He slid his hand up your face to rest over your eyes. Your mouth dropped open as a sigh escaped your lips, but you said nothing and made no attempt to move. You put yourself completely in his hands, knowing you were safe in them. But, you gasped when you heard the hiss of his helmet, and felt the gentle breath from Din’s own lips.
Din leaned in and tenderly placed his lips over yours, using his free hand to keep his helmet covering the rest of his face. You both moaned softly into each other as you savored the feeling of your lips together for the first time. The kiss was soft and sweet, yet it held all the emotions the two of you held close to your hearts. Now that everything was out in the open, though, you and Din both felt like you could share this vulnerability with each other.
You tilted your head to the side as you placed your hands on Din’s armored chest and parted your lips in a silent invitation. Din eagerly took it and deepened the kiss by darting his tongue past your lips. He groaned into you and pushed his chest more into your body as the taste of you sent a jolt of electricity through his veins. A tear of his own slid down his face as he memorized the taste of you and the feeling of your face against his.
As much as neither of you wanted to break away, you needed air. Reluctantly, you both parted at the same time, sharing the air that you both inhaled. Din carefully pulled his helmet down and covered your eyes, taking a moment to admire the subtle features of your face as you kept your eyes closed.
“Look at me,” he said gently.
You blinked your eyes open, and knew from the way he tilted his head to the side that he was admiring you. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you felt his eyes stare at you through the darkness of the visor. “Thank you,” you whispered, “For saving my life,” you slid your hand in his.
“You never have to thank me, mesh’la,” Din murmured as he squeezed your hand and moved his free one to cup the back of your head, “I’ll always protect you,” he continued in a low tone as he guided your head closer to his until your foreheads touched. Din knew his love for you and Grugu didn't make him weak, despite what the leader said. In fact, it made him stronger than ever, it drove him to fight harder to protect you both.
You let out another deep breath as your eyes closed and you cherished the moment. Being held by Din made you feel safe and warm, even with the cold armor he wore. You felt the warmth of his touch, the warmth of his love, even through the beskar. “Let’s go see our kid,” you broke the silence with a smile in your tone.
Din let out a soft, amused huff that told you he was smiling too, “Yeah,” he murmured, “Let’s get our family back together.” 
291 notes · View notes
cheesec4kee · 1 month
Text
they’re just nostalgia ⸺ CL¹⁶ ୨୧
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you’ve always been the light in charles life. but he knows that if he wants to beat his childhood rival, he’ll have to let you go— even if it’s hard for him, he knows he can’t afford any distractions.
[ warnings ! ] : gn reader, brief mentions of alcohol, angst-ish ??, use of y/n once, poorly written
[ a/n ] : first time writing angst, so please don’t judge LMAO. based on the song ‘answer’ by Tyler the creator, and I initially wrote this as a joke but I needed something to post so there’s that. . anw hope u enjoy this !! (reblogs very much appreciated btw !!)
⸺ angst under the cut
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he fumbled with the keys in his hands, hastily unlocking the door to the apartment that he shared with you. he closed the door quietly, sucking in a breath as he sees you sat on the couch— reading a book.
he’s greeted with a smile, and it nearly broke him. he loves you— he truly does, but not over his dream. to beat his childhood rival. he simply couldn’t let his efforts go of waste.
“how was practice?” you questioned, a soft smile tugging the corner of your lips, as he watched you close your book and set it down beside you on the couch.
“it was.. it was okay.” he mumbled with hands in his pockets as he avoided your gaze. he felt bad. you were everything he ever wanted— he felt stupid for even doing this. for choosing his dream over you.
“hey— uh, I think..”
“I think we should break up,” he murmured, his voice a mere octave above a whisper. shifting his weight from one leg to another uncomfortably, he cleared his throat awkwardly.
you were the light and joy in his life, and he knows it. you’re the only thing he looks forward to seeing after a shitty race, or after a bad qualifying. he’d search for you in the crowd, wanting to engulf himself purely in the warmth you provide.
his words hung in the air, the tension of emotions thick.
“why? what went wrong?” you managed to muster out, your voice coming out shakier than you thought it would be.
he stayed silent for a minute, before clearing his throat— his eyes boring into yours. “I found someone else,” he lies, his gaze softening— but you could tell that it had a distant look, like his mind was wandering elsewhere.
his words were like daggers being thrown on your heart, piercing right through it.
as tears welled up in your eyes, a wave of emotions washed over you. confusion, insecurity, and betrayal. you couldn’t help but start to question your worth to him. did you really mean something to him all this time, or was that all just a lie? you knew Charles was popular among the ladies. he was a good looking man, surrounded with women with scarcely credible beauty.
but you were hoping that the bond you two had was special, that it could resist any temptations you, or Charles had towards any other men or women. Charles was a beacon of light in your life, and you were his. you truly did believe that the connection between you two was strong enough to overcome any obstacles.
with a heavy heart, you knew you had to face the harsh reality of his confession. you knew you had to muster up the strength within you to let him go.
you couldn’t force someone to love you, after all.
“I swear, I loved you at some point but—”
“..I understand.” you cut him off and wiped your tears, swallowing back the tears threatening to spill out.
“I’ll pack my things.”
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for the past few days after the breakup, Charles struggled to get rid of the memories that you left in his apartment. he struggled to get rid of the paintings the two of you made for fun, hell— he struggled to change his lock screen which was you.
he kept making excuses, excuses to not remove that little widget in his phone that was a photo of you— the photo he took secretly.
he could only stare at his lock screen, the guilt washing over him whenever he turned on his phone to see you. he could feel the nostalgia, his stomach churning uncomfortably.
he’s standing on the podium, lifting and glancing at the trophy he earned while reminiscing the memories and moments the two of you shared together, he could imagine how proud you would’ve looked at this very moment. he felt stupid for wishing that you were here even though he was the one who broke things off.
winning doesn’t feel the same without you. he misses the way you’d squeeze him so tight when he won, the heat radiating off of you— he doesn’t feel as happy as he usually would. it felt like that winning simply wasn’t worth it without you there to congratulate him.
he has the urge to message you. to ask you how you’ve been, if you were doing much better without him, but he knew he couldn’t. not after what he did to you.
he walks off the podium, his clothes reeking of champagne as he heads to the garage— before noticing his teammate, a wide smile on his face as he comes to congratulate him.
“you did well out there,” Carlos grins, wrapping a arm around Charles shoulder, squeezing him slightly.
Charles simply smiles, muttering a quiet ‘thanks’— though Carlos knows something was up. it was obvious for everyone that Charles seemed odd, seemed distant.
“you’re not gonna tell y/n about this?” he questions, raising an eyebrow as he pulls his arm away, noticing how stiff Charles was despite managing to win first after a while.
Charles stays quiet for a minute, before responding, “I’d call them, but—” Charles pauses, sucking in a breath and glancing at his teammate, before adverting his gaze elsewhere.
“they’re just nostalgia.”
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175 notes · View notes
lees-chaotic-brain · 6 months
Note
For your recent event can I request
Blue Ocean and #2
Thank you
Three Little Words (Gojo x Reader)
CW: rejection, blood, slight spoilers for the jjk movie, implied past satosugu i guess, mutual pining, reader is female, implied death, brief mentions of blood, mentions of injury
Event Masterlist | Event Guide | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation
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"Sorry, not interested."
Three little words. Three little words was all it took to shatter your heart.
You had spent the last three years of your life trying to track down the person attached to the other end of your soulmate thread.
All that time spent hoping. All that time spent daydreaming about what he would be like, only for this.
For you to meet him because he was your new coworker, and fellow teacher at Jujutsu Tech. For him to reject you upon first sight.
You hadn't even spoken a word yet. All it took was him glancing at the red ribbon connecting the two of you for him to shut you down.
Your mind went blank. There was no way you heard him correctly, right...?
"What?"
"I'm not interested."
He stated casually, as if he was just commenting on the weather.
"You-You don't even know my name yet!"
With all logic having flown out the window, this was the best you could come up with.
"Oh, you're right. What's your name?"
Stupefied, you told him.
"That's pretty. Anyways, it's not you, it's me."
Taking your blank gaze as understanding, he perked up.
"My name's Gojo Satoru. I hope we can be friends!"
With an enthusiastic handshake, he was off, leaving you standing in shock, unsure of what just happened.
Reaching up and touching your cheek, you were surprised to find that it was wet.
Huh, that was strange. When did you start crying?
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Days turned to weeks turned to months.
At first, things were a little awkward between you and your soulmate.
You were hurt, angry and confused. But the more time you spent with him, the more those feelings ebbed away, his presence a balm that soothed all your hurts and insecurities.
Why. Why did he have to reject you? Why did he have to be so insufferable? Why did he have to be so goddamn attractive? Why did he have to be aware that he was so goddamn attractive?
Why couldn't he send you any clear signals?
One day he was playfully calling you his 'best bud' while the two of you played pranks on Nanami or got into mischief.
And the next he was tenderly cupping your cheek and running his thumb over the dark bags under your eyes; concern evident on his face as he quietly asked if you were doing okay, and telling you to take a break.
And if he really wasn't interested, why didn't he officially break the soulmate bond? Why did he change the subject every time you tried to bring it up?
It was driving you insane. You were falling for him. And hard. But the echo of his words replayed in your head every time you considered broaching the subject.
You didn't know what to do.
So you did the only thing you could; you kept it professional. After all, the two of you were coworkers, nothing more, nothing less.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Gojo was tired of just being your coworker.
He wanted more. Had wanted more from the moment he laid eyes on your breathtaking face.
Sure, it had broken a visceral part of him to reject you, but if it was to keep you safe, he would do it a million times over.
However, no matter how much he told himself he couldn't be with you, that he had to officially sever the soulmate bond, he couldn't bring himself to officially break the tie that made the two of you soulmates.
The more time he spent with you, the more time he got to spend with you, the harder he fell.
He had never felt like this towards anyone. The only person that had ever come close before this had been Suguru, but his relationship with him had been soured by the fact that they both knew Gojo's soulmate was out there.
But when you were in his life, his entire world lit up. Everything was brighter and more vibrant. He felt like you saw him for Satoru, the man he was, instead of the burdens fate and Jujutsu society had placed upon his shoulders.
So selfishly he had kept the soulmate bond intact.
And now, staring at your mangled form laying before him, the precious blood that belonged in your veins leaking out onto the floor as you struggled to breathe, he remembered.
He remembered why he wasn't allowed to love. Why he had pushed you away.
God, he was so stupid to think that Suguru wouldn't go after you. He was so stupid for believing that his friend wasn't irredeemable.
And his stupidity and selfishness could very well cost you your life.
"You never change, do you."
Only then did Gojo realize that he had been speaking aloud, voicing his inner turmoil as the two people he cared for most lay dying before him.
Suguru coughed, wincing as the motion aggravated his injuries.
"You say that she's injured because you selfishly clung to your soulmate bond, right?"
"What are you implying Suguru?"
Gojo asked, weariness and heartbreak in his voice as he applied pressure to your injuries. He couldn't take you to get help until he took care of Suguru, but he wanted to give his former best friend a chance to say his last words.
"What I'm saying is that she got hurt because you were selfish, yes, but not in the way you think you were. You aren't selfish because you refuse to break the bond. You were selfish because you kept your distance. You could've come to her rescue much earlier, but you didn't because doing so would admit that she meant something to you. And you were more comfortable keeping her at a distance, because you didn't want to have to fear losing her."
Suguru sighed, shifting to a more comfortable position.
"You know, I never hated the people at Jujutsu Tech. If she survives, tell her how you really feel. She deserves at least that. And after that, tell her I'm sorry, okay."
Gojo barked a laugh, tears burning the backs of his eyes as a looming sense of grief and apprehension filled him. He knew what he had to do next.
"Okay, I will."
He smiled.
"Wingmanning me till the end. My best friend."
His face softened as he reminisced on better times.
"My one and only."
Suguru returned the smile, and Gojo finished him, gently closing his eyes afterwards.
Standing and wiping the tears from his eyes, he turned and picked you up, before stepping into a new chapter of his life.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
When you woke up, you were greeted by the bright white of the hospital ceiling.
Groaning, you attempted to sit up, only to be stopped by the massive man-child sprawled across your lap.
With a snort, he shot up, disoriented as he rejoined the land of the waking.
Noticing you were awake, he froze, before reaching out and grabbing your hands.
"Can I say something?"
"Right now?"
You asked, a little confused as to what could be so important that he was waiting at your bedside for you to wake up.
"Yes."
His unusually somber tome threw you off.
"Of course. What's the matter?"
"I'm so sorry."
"Um, I'm confused. For what?"
"For rejecting you. This is by no means any excuse, but the last person I was close to abandoned me. I was afraid to let anyone get close to me, but instead of facing my fear, I excused it by telling myself that if I let myself care for you then curses would target you to get to me. So I told myself that it was to protect you instead of acknowledging that I'm selfish coward who was just trying to protect myself-"
"Hold up."
You cut off his rambling, needing a moment to process.
"Are you trying to tell me that you rejected me because you were afraid that in the end I was going to betray you, but you were too emotionally constipated to acknowledge that, so instead you convinced yourself that you were pushing me away for my own protection?"
Downcast he nodded.
"And you're apologizing for that."
"Yes. If I had just protected you by staying by your side, you never would have gotten hurt! The only reason you're in here is because I was too scared to admit that I love you!"
You froze.
"Say it again."
"What."
"What you just said."
Realization dawned on Gojo's face, and his cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink.
"I love you."
He murmured shyly, looking at the comforter.
You leaned forwards and hugged him, burying your head in his chest.
"Again."
You whispered, lips brushing against the fabric of his uniform.
"I love you."
A content smile spread across your face.
"I'm still sorta pissed at you, but you have no idea how happy you just made me."
You said, nuzzling into his shirt.
"I love you too."
He froze in disbelief. There was no way you returned his feelings. He didn't deserve that.
"Do you really forgive me?"
"Mmmm, say it one more time for me."
"I love you."
"Okay I forgive you."
Finally at peace, you basked in the warmth from being in the arms of your soulmate.
Who knew that those three little words were all it took.
Three little words to heal your heart.
Cuddling with soulmate, you knew that you would be okay, as long as he continued to tell you those three little words.
You deep personal reflection was interrupted by Gojo's voice.
"Oh, by the way, Suguru says sorry."
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
384 notes · View notes
soraontop · 4 months
Text
THE TRUTH UNTOLD
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title the truth untold ( pt. 1 of 10 things i hate about you series )
summary how it all begins.
genre angst, fluff towards the end, slice of life
characters jung sora (8th female member oc of enhypen), nam iseul (female oc, former 9th female member oc of enhypen), park jongseong, park sunghoon (briefly), brief cameos of other enhypen members
warnings poly ot7 enhypen au with 8th female member. knetz are really mean to sora. slut shaming, self-deprecating thoughts. enhypen are still learning about sora’s many, many layers. unrequited (?) love. idiots in love. pining.
words 2412
note aaaa okay sorry it took a min. here is the first part of how enhasora began. just letting you know … prepare for a ride cause im not gonna make it easy on them. 🫶🫶
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Jung Sora knew one thing before ENHYPEN debuted. She was absolutely and utterly fucked.
It starts a month before ENHYPEN’s debut. Iseul gathers Sora and the seven boys in their living room, the room cluttered as always when all nine of them were in their tiny dorm. She knows what’s coming before it leaves Iseul’s mouth. She thinks of how she knows Iseul better than anyone.
“I’m leaving ENHYPEN.”
The room goes still, and Sora’s heart drops, even though she expected it. There’s an awful, funny feeling in the pit of her stomach and she feels like she’s going to throw her breakfast back up.
Sora inhales sharply and that seems to break the rest of the members’ silence.
“You’re kidding, right,” Jake chuckles, head ducking down. They wait for her to laugh, telling them it’s a joke. But she doesn’t. His head snaps up, “Wait, seriously?”
At Iseul’s silence, Sunghoon stands and walks out of the living room, slamming the door to the bedroom shut. Sora flinches, closing her eyes briefly. She feels eyes on her and looks to see Heeseung staring at her. She smiles weakly, breaking eye contact to turn back to Iseul.
“I don’t understand,” Niki said, brows furrowing. “Why? We haven’t even debuted yet.”
Iseul swallows, “I— I thought I could do it, but I can’t.” Her eyes connect with Sora and her eyes are shining, bottom lip trembling. “Sora … you understand, don’t you?” Her voice breaks, hand reaching out for the younger girl to hold.
Sora stares at her hand for a moment, disappointment settling in. This was really happening. She looks back up, and a tear falls from Iseul’s eyes. She pushes her feelings aside, forcing a weak smile as her own eyes become wet, “Unnie … You know I do.” Their hands clasp together, fingers intertwining tightly. She swallows the lump in her throat, “I want to tell you to stay. I don’t want you to leave.” The other members watch as she blinks away her tears, never one to cry in front of others. “But I know you’ve already made your mind up. You’ve already booked your train ride home, too, haven’t you?” When a sob rips out from Iseul’s chest and she nods slowly, she nods back. She stands up, pulling Iseul in for a hug, shocking the older girl.
They hold each other tightly and Sora whispers for only her to hear, “I love you, unnie.” She pulls back a moment later, glancing at the boys who are still staring in confusion. They don’t know the reason. She sighs, turning back to Iseul. “I’m going to …” She turns her head but Iseul already knows where she’s going, sniffling and nodding.
As Sora walks away, she knows there is no use to beg Iseul to stay. If she didn’t want to debut so badly, she’d go with her. But she’s always wanted to be an idol— it was her dream. She had been a trainee for far too long to just give up now because netizens didn’t like that she was a girl in a boy group.
She hesitantly stops at the bedroom door, bringing up her fist before stopping. She stands there for a moment before breathing in and out, gathering the courage to knock on the door. “Sunghoon?”
There’s no answer. She sighs.
“Please … Just hear her out,” is all she has to say before he’s ripping the door open and pulling her in. The door closes behind her and he’s staring at her, face blank. If she didn’t know him so well by now, she’d think he was angry at her. He was angry, yes, but not at her. “You don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand,” Sunghoon fires back.
“Imagine you’re in our shoes. We’re the only girls in a group full of boys, set to become idols in front of thousands of girls who already have their claws in you. You know how fans are, they think you’re theirs,” Sora says in one breath. “They see us as competition and they don’t like that.”
“We get the same reaction from guys—”
“No, you don’t,” she shakes her head, “They call us sluts. Whores. They pat you on the back and say, ‘Wow, aren’t you lucky with the ladies?’” She tilts her head, smiling a patronizing smile. “It’s always been like this. And it’s always going to be harder on us.”
She doesn’t stay for a second longer, hoping her words get into Sunghoon’s head as she leaves. Iseul is still talking to the boys as she heads to their shared room. No, her room. Only her room now.
When the door shuts behind her and she climbs into her bed, shoving her face into her pillow, she finally allows the tears to fall.
When Iseul comes into their room a few hours later, she pats Sora on the head and climbs into bed with her. They hold each other and don’t speak for a very long time.
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It’s weird without Iseul, Sora decides a few days later after Iseul has gone back home. It’s like the boys are walking on eggshells around her and she hates it. She tries to go back to normal, but it’s hard when they won’t let her.
After Niki allows her to serve his food, she stares at him for a moment, expecting him to protest, but he doesn’t. He only thanks her and begins eating. She waits another second, before turning away. Her eyes connect with Heeseung’s and she bites her lip, forcing herself to look away. Jay is now staring at her and she blinks.
A warm feeling washes over her body and she turns her head abruptly. She knows if she looked in the mirror right now, her cheeks would be red. She hates this feeling. She hates feeling vulnerable, like he can just tell what she’s thinking with just one look. She wishes he didn’t pay her so much attention. Then maybe it would be easier to get over him.
Sora sits down at her spot at the table after Heeseung hands her her plate as the boys engage in conversation, allowing her to eat her food silently. She hates herself. It’s a bold statement, but she does. All the things netizens are saying about her, that she’s a slut— that she likes one of the boys, or worse, even all of them. That she paid her way into debuting, either by actual money or other … favors. She’s just proving all of them right.
When she first read the comments about her, after the final episode of I-LAND aired, she was appalled. She felt sick to her stomach. How could anyone assume that of her? How could anyone say something like that to anyone? She doesn’t know how many times she’s cried herself to sleep or gotten so sick that she threw up nothing.
She knew the expectations of an idol, she’d been one for a year when she was thirteen with I.O.I. But that was nothing like this.
“Sora?”
Her head snaps up, eyes widening as she looks around the table. All seven of them are staring at her. She hopes she didn’t miss anything too important. She puts down her utensils, realizing she hadn’t even been eating. Just playing with her food.
Sora clears her throat, “Yeah?”
“Are you not hungry?” Jake switches to English, glancing down at her plate. “You should eat.”
“Ah …” She looks at it, too. She’s sheepish as she looks up, “Yeah. I had a big breakfast.” Everyone knows that’s a lie. But she doesn’t allow any room for argument as she stands up, “I’m going to put it in the fridge and I’ll clean dishes once all of you are done. Anyone want anything?” She almost expects one of them, Heeseung, most likely, to protest and tell her to go lay down, but they don’t. She bites down on her bottom lip, slightly ducking her head so her hair will hide her face. “Okay,” she says quietly, quickly taking her plate and walking into the kitchen.
Sora doesn’t know why she’s so disappointed. She hates being taken care of. She’s used to being the one to take care of others. She shouldn’t feel this way. She shouldn’t feel any of this.
Her phone rings in her jacket pocket right as she finishes putting her plate in the fridge. She checks the contact name.
Dad.
Sora blinks. And then stares at it some more. She allows it to continue ringing, staring at the screen until she hears footsteps heading her way. She quickly silences it, shoving it back in her pocket and leaving the kitchen just as Sunoo comes in. She doesn’t make eye contact, making sure to not brush against him as she leaves.
She can feel their eyes on her as she leaves. She wishes someone would say something.
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LITTLE BIG BRO: Noona, are you having fun?
LITTLE BIG BRO: I miss you.
Sora hates feelings, she decides. She’s staring at the text messages from Kangmin, her oldest younger brother. His contact photo stares back. She goes to type something back, but she doesn’t know what to say. Does she lie? Say she’s having fun? Say she misses him, too?
If she said she misses him, would that be a lie, too?
Guilt creeps in at the thought and she hates herself more for even thinking it. Of course, she misses her brothers. They were always around, always messing with her and begging for her attention every second.
Sora turns her phone off, throwing it on what used to be Iseul’s bed. She shoves her head under her pillow, wanting to scream. There’s a knock on the door and then— “Sora? Can I come in?”
She bolts up in her bed, eyes automatically heading to the mirror in the room. Her hair is a mess, her cheeks are puffy, and her lips are dry. She quickly combs her fingers through her hair, searching for her lipbalm and smoothing it over her lips. She clears her throat as Jay knocks again, “Yeah, oppa. Come in.”
Jay steps inside the room, eyes roaming around as if he hasn’t seen it a hundred times before. But now it’s different, she tells herself. One half of the room is gone now. Empty. Before she can dive into her self-deprecating thoughts once more, she pats the bed beside her, “What’s up?”
Jay complies, staring down at his lap for a second. He had practiced this for a while before he even left his own room, but now that he was here, it was like all of it left his mind. He sighs, looking up at Sora who looked at him in confusion, “Do you want to talk?”
Sora blinks. “Talk? About what?” She knew what he was talking about and he knew that she knew. But he indulged her, anyway. He always would.
“Iseul noona,” Jay says gently, hand twitching by his side as if he were about to hold her hand. “You didn’t stay.”
“I went to talk to Sunghoon-oppa,” she murmurs, rubbing her palm on her sweatpants. “He needed to understand.”
“And he does, now,” he says. “I …” He sighs, “You’re not like yourself, Sora. Are you uncomfortable around us without noona here?”
Sora blinks in shock, head snapping up to look at him, “What? No! I’ve been friends with some of you before unnie and I even met. If anything,” her voice grows stronger, “It’s you guys who haven’t been yourselves. You’re uncomfortable with me.”
Jay doesn’t know how she can come to that conclusion. “What? No, we love you.”
Her heart warms at the confession, but she forces it down, “You guys keep just … letting me walk all over you! Letting me do whatever, walking around me like I’m about to break. I hate it. I hate it so much.”
Jay blinks. And opens his mouth before hesitating. He closes his mouth. “What … I thought you liked doing all that? We all did. That’s why we’re not stopping you like we usually do. We thought it’d make you feel better.”
Sora swallows, suddenly realizing what she had confessed after hearing his words. She looks down to her blanket, playing with the end of it.
“Sora,” he sighs at her silence. “It’s okay to want to be taken care of sometimes. You know I’m— we’re,” he clears his throat, “—always here for you. No matter what.” His eyes focus, becoming a little stern, “Okay?”
She looks up, studying the look in his eyes. She doesn’t recognize it. She wants to change the subject. “Okay.” She still doesn’t fully believe his words and he can tell.
Jay abruptly cups her cheek with his hand and her eyes widened, cheeks flushing red. His hand is warm, fingers slightly rough as his thumb smooths over her cheekbone. “Sora. Listen to me. If you need anything, if you want to talk about anything, you can come to me. You don’t always have to do things yourself. It’s okay to ask for help. You will never need to do anything by yourself when you have us.”
Her heart is beating erratically and she’s pretty sure Jay can hear it, he’s so close to her. God, that’s so embarrassing. Her eyes nervously dart away from his, laughing nervously at his words, “Ah, alright, alright. I get it, oppa. I understand now.” She pauses for a moment, before asking, “Does this mean you guys will go back to normal now? I … I miss the way it was.” Her voice grew quieter with the last sentence.
Jay chuckles, “Yeah, I’ll tell them.”
“But don’t tell them I said any of that,” she points her finger at him, trying to gain the upperhand again. She straightens up, and his hand falls from her cheek. She tries not to seem disappointed.
Jay’s smile is endearing, teasing but gentle, “Whatever you want … Baby.” His smile grows larger at her reaction, not expecting him to use the petname as it came out of Heeseung or Jake’s mouths more. Her eyes widen comically with appalled rage in them, mouth dropping open. Her cheeks are still red, hair a little messed up but she’s still pretty as the first time he saw her in the halls of BigHit.
“Yah! Don’t call me baby. I’m not a baby, you’re a baby, baby.”
“Whatever you say, baby.”
NEXT.
228 notes · View notes
divinehedons · 9 months
Text
lost and found
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pairing: soft dom!joel miller x f!reader
word count: ~4k
summary: your arrangement with joel miller is built on mutual trust. what happens when, in the throes of hedonism, he himself breaks that trust?
warnings: this is a dark, EXPLICIT fic, minors do not interact! no outbreak au, so many unrequited feelings, angsty angst angst angst, explicit p-in-v sex, dubious consent, use of a safeword, teeth-rotting aftercare and fluff, brief use of a sex toy, bath sex, brief depiction of make-up sex, somewhat (definitely) blasphemous and makes a mocking of religion (i'm not sorry :>>>>)
note: thank you very dearly for reading! please let me know what you think and what you see next; asks are very much welcome, reblogs and comments are much appreciated!
“See, this is why you need me, sweet girl. Because otherwise, who’s goin’ to make you feel this good?”
It was those words that follow you every day since you’ve begun such a tumultuous connection with the Texan contractor. Those words that stayed with you when you woke up from his tongue between your legs after the first night you fucked together. The words that stayed together when you made an arrangement. When you finally submitted to him.
You meet him in a shared apartment, in darkness, as well-put as could be from a day of work, kneeling with your wrists presented before you. By the end of the night, moments before he drops you off, he looks over your smeared lipstick, your neck littered with blood-red hickeys of his doing, wrists red. He'd look you over, then he'd smirk, waiting for you to turn back and wave goodbye. Only then will he have the last word. "See you next week, darlin'."
You met him at trivia night, glasses on, glass of whisky in hand, mere purveyor to the chaos you were causing. You, who he noticed to be naturally shy, sipping away at some colorful drink the weeks before, standing actively on your toes as you excitedly whisper the answer to a question. He saw, too, how happy you got, jumping on your feet when your little band of three pulls ahead in the game. But what caught his attention was how good you are. How you immediately sat down when your team asks you to, how you willingly go for drinks at the bar, not five feet from where he sat, emanating warmth from excitement.
You were so goddamn willing, he had to adjust himself once or twice, pictures of your submission burnt into the crevices of his brain. So when he had the chance, he had to take it.
“How did’ya know so much about the sixties, sugar?” he asked as you squeezed into the seat beside him, barely managing to steal it from the crowded bar. When you looked at him, he swore he almost saw your eyes gloss over from shyness. You just had to be adorable.
 “Oh! Well… I spent a lot of time with my grandparents.” You look down, fiddling with your drink before chuckling. “I didn’t know we were getting so much attention.” He swore he almost felt his cock twitch in his pants. Already, you were being so good, he physically had to swallow down the images of you happily bent over his desk with the rest of his whisky, throat burning be damned.
He realized, quite easily, that if he wanted you, he was going to have to be creative about it. And if he really wanted you, he had to put the effort in showing you he could be trusted; that he’ll take care of you. So he smiles, a calm smirk accompanying his salt-and-pepper beard, the warm crinkles in his eyes as he stills himself. He takes a deep breath, and it becomes so easy.
The night ends with you pressed against the door of your apartment, panties pushed to the side as he breathes whiskey into your face while you chuckle nervously. “D’you want it, sugar? C’mon, I need some words…” He almost wished he could take a photo of your face the moment he spears you open with his aching cock, cunt already fucked out by his fingers during the feverish truck drive where you almost get him lost from hazy directions.
He teaches you your safe words that night. An analogy of stoplights– halting reds, questioning yellows, and bright green gos.
He constantly checks in, and all you tell him is to go, go, go.
He likes it when you call him sir, a remnant of his Southern manners. Your cheeks warm up whenever you say it. He noticed when he had begun to cup your face, asking you to tell him what you wanted.
Just you, sir. All you, please…
He’s so indulgent about it, so eager to give you the pleasure you so desperately wanted without saying anything. But sometimes, that primal urge to own you manifests itself, as well. He particularly enjoyed the act of overstimulation. Just the sight of you, cockdumb and broken, limbs trembling from the way he manipulated the pleasure from your body… how could he ever resist? It’s why he was so willing to split an apartment with you; one meant for your excursions and hedonistic urges; the house of desire itself with a king-sized bed and a hot tub to defile.
You were chaos and innocence all in one, sweet like honey and sudden like the weather. Incomprehensible, unique you. Simply put, he enjoyed you. And the fact that you belonged to him will never stop getting him hard just from the mere thought of it. He started thinking he finally understood what it meant to be enthralled by someone. When you open your mouth wide, tongue extended and waiting for any shred of him to swallow, when you lay on his chest post-coitus with the sated nature of a feral cat, when he sees your perfect lipstick, waiting to be ruined by kisses.
Of course he’s insatiable. He will always keep wanting more. Perhaps it was that insatiability that led to that storming night.
He should’ve noticed when he opened the door and you were looking out of the window, eerily quiet, with the weight of the world on your shoulders. He drops the keys on the dining table, crossing his way to you, hands wrapping around your waist as he kisses your exposed shoulder teasingly. 
“Let me take your mind off of it, darlin’,” he whispers, and you feign a giggle at the way his beard prickles your skin. “Had a tough day, didn’t ya?” You look to him as if you were about to confess something, say something and break your usual submissive silence. But you catch his eye and you melt further into his touch instead as you sigh softly.
“Just missed you a little too much, sir…”
It satisfies him. It feeds his ego. But just in case… “Give me a colour, pretty baby. S’alright…”
You gulp, feeling your fingers turn cold as you process your thoughts. With a sigh, you press a kiss to his jaw.
“Green, sir.”
The word barely leaves your lips before he’s kissing you, swallowing down your soft whimpers as his strong arms take you, carrying you to the bedroom with renewed urge and desire. Settling you down on fresh sheets, he peers over your pretty little sundress, your perfect little face, chuckling at the shyness washing over you in the low lamplight. He kisses you again, insatiable hands tearing open your dress as your breath hitches, He does not stop, pressing wanton kisses down your collarbone, your breast, your stomach, spreading your legs so he can settle right between them.
“Y’wanna tell me why you weren’t answering my calls, darlin’?”
You try not imagine the panic you must have caused him for that very reason. The fact that you left him a message at three in the afternoon, I need to see you, sir. Only to have your phone switched off. There is probably a barrage of messages and missed calls. But seeing you here, he finally seems to settle. He seems to ignore your creased forehead, your shaky breaths.
“My phone died… I- I’m sorry…” He shushes you, kissing you again and running his thumb over your painted lips with a smile. “I just missed you, sir.”
You notice his eyes darkening, hands traveling down the expanse of your stomach, embracing and caressing each curve before his right hand completely cups your wanton cunt, willing and warm to the touch. “I think I can do somethin’ about that.” He pushes your underwear aside, two fingers delving into the soft, sticky warmth of your desire, spreading you open just for him. He periodically asks for your status, a colour to confirm your consent. You see it as a way of him asking if he could do the things he was already doing.
Green for the fingers already spreading you open. Green to take off the dress he had already torn off. Green to mark up the neck that already bore the wetness of his saliva.
“How was trivia night last night, sugar? I couldn’t get out of work soon enough to catch you there…” You manage a soft chuckle, now embracing him with a breathy kiss. “Although, I believe I heard from Clark that you did well enough, no?”
Your soft giggles melt against the skin of his jaw, your shaky breaths stuttering as you hear the clink of his belt buckle and the shuffling of his jeans. “Good old nineties, sir,” you murmur. “Your playlist was sufficient enough of a reviewer to carry me through.” It’s his turn to chuckle, cupping your face and peering down at you as he affectionately pinches the apple of your cheek with a sigh.
“One more ‘old man’ quip out of you and you’ll be askin’ for a punishment, li’l girl.”
You manage a soft smile. You like it when he cares. You like him like this. But just as easily as it came, the softness soon disappears as he returns to working the clothes off of your body, looking over the way your skin is void of the markings he left the last time he had you. You try to comprehend the secrets between his furrowed brow, the mutterings you try to hear in the semi-darkness. He always had a way of keeping that same professional barrier between the two of you, a barrier that you never know where it truly stood. A barrier of multiple dimensions. A barrier that was the sole purpose why you never confessed you stopped dating ever since he came into your life.
You remember the time you almost did. You had called him one evening, dressed up in the same apartment, bottle of wine chilled, rose petals all over the sheets. You told him you wanted to see him. You didn’t expect the ease that came with his rebuttal. Can’t tonight, darlin’, I have a lady friend keepin’ me company. How ‘bout Friday? You pretend, as you find yourself doing more and more often. You tell him to have a nice evening. You drink an entire bottle of wine by yourself. You dispose of the rose petals and ensure you left no traces by morning.
Looking at him now, he still remains cool, professional, boundaries locked and loaded between your bodies even when he presses the bulbous tip of a vibrator directly over where you need him most, firing it up the moment you said green. He told you once he loved the way you squealed for him, that it makes his chest bubble with incomprehensible glee knowing he could drive such noises from you, that shy little vixen that knelt for him when he said the word and opened her mouth wide. Maybe that’s why he always enjoyed pushing you to your limits.
Maybe that’s what he wanted to do now.
And you had to admit, you were willing to let him try.
The vibration jostles through your flesh, shaking awake your tendons. The initial shock sent your legs flailing, spreading, and eventually welcoming the affection. “That’s it… let me in, baby…”
Your cries emanate as the shock of the first orgasm shakes through your completely naked body, brushing against the course fabric of his jeans, his small snicker leaving him before he could stop it. “‘Course you’re so easy, pretty lady.” You feel your cheeks warm up at his words, looking into his eyes as he raises a brow, as if waiting for you to give him his dues.
It’s when you return to yourself, blinking away the haze in your head as you tilt your head back. “Thank you, sir… oh, oh– thank you!” When you look back, you see him through the mist in your vision, see that slow, cocky smirk encompassing his features. He likes this. He likes the way you’re absolutely fucked out like this.
The buzzing stops, and you blink awake shakily up at him. He leans down to kiss you gently, sighing as you come down from your orgasmic bliss. “How are we feelin’, baby doll?”
You grin up at him. Green, green, green.
He looks down at you, with that shit-eating grin on your face that you always have when you’re brimming with excitement and ready to burst. He tries to read your eyes just as you grow shy, turning over to embrace the pillow you lay on. What should he do when the prettiest girl in the world says “green” so voraciously?
There was only one answer. He can only go, go, go.
Joel Miller rarely calls anything heaven. He rarely finds anything that is so divine that he can surrender so easily in worship. And if he does, it’s even rarer that he is driven by anything so much as to take divinity into his own hands. But with you… he swore he finally saw the face of God. And it was dangerous. It was dangerous because it had awakened an arcane starvation that almost harkens back to his own primordial longings.
You tell him green, but if he was capable of confession, if he was more vulnerable to you… he’d confess that he’d gone blind, his senses dulled and only drawn to one thing and one thing only: and it was to take and take from you.
That was why he fucks you wide open with his cock, your walls trembling with the first sign of overstimulation. He sees the first sign of your hesitation and he barely stops himself to look you in the eye to say your status. You barely manage to tell him green, with a tone of hesitation, and he immediately pummels his hardness into your aching cunt, embracing you in his tense arms, growling into your ear as you feel his lips sucking a brand new hickey at the very crook of your neck. 
If he was confessing, he would say all he saw was the red of his blood pumping through his brain. It is only a few seconds later that he finally hears that shy, trembling voice of yours, echoing like a hysterical cry that tears through his defences. It is the words you had never uttered in these moments before now.
“Red, red, red!”
Immediately, Joel flies apart from you like shrapnel, blinking his eyes open just in time to see your grief-stricken face, splotchy from tears as you curl up in the upper middle of the large bed. From here, he finally sees the aftermath of his mindless fucking. His fingertips marking your skin, lovebite blood red and raging just as you peer up at him with eyes lit up with an emotion he had never seen before. You had never stared at him with that much fear before.
He attempts to reach for you, only to be frozen in his tracks the moment you flinched further upwards against the mattress. His blood runs cold when he hears your words. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sir–”
Had he been that absolutely careless over you— precious, darling you that entrusted herself so fully to him? Had he been that selfish, so enthralled by the callings of his own flesh? This is the price he had to pay for tasting divinity— he just had to ruin you for it. He slowly recedes, heart thumping in his chest as he tucks himself back into his pants, keeping his hands visible for you, your watchful eyes never blinking away from you.
“It’s alright, darlin’. It’s alright. We’ve stopped.” Gently, he helps, carefully handing you a dressing robe to regain some form of second skin. He ascertains that his bare hands does not brush against you, not unless you ask him to. Not unless you wanted it. He did not deserve such a privilege, not after what he’s done. Not after how he broke your trust.
He shakes away the thoughts and self-doubt from the recesses of his brain. You do not need his remorse. What you needed was to be taken care of. What you needed was him to fulfill the role he had promised you from the very start of your… partnership. Whatever it was you had. The minutes pass in the silence. The apartment is silent, except for your shaky breaths as he waits for you to calm down.
“Sugar…” your bright doe eyes look to him, reddened slightly by tears before softening, your hands slowly moving to reach for him. He stops himself. “What do you want me to do, doll?”
You finally find the voice to speak again. “Just hold me… please.” Joel gently settles by your side, embracing you as you hide your face into his bare chest. With how close you press yourself to him, you feel the pounding of his chest. You feel your skin prickle, looking up into his eyes in soft, comfortable silence. “It’s like you couldn’t see me anymore when… when…”
He hears your breath hitch and he gently shushes you, carefully pressing kisses to the crown of your head. “Why did you apologize, sugar?”
It's difficult to comprehend feelings in an agreement that is supposedly devoid of them. It's difficult to reflect when you think you know every possibility when you say the truth and nothing but the truth. But you know, too, that you cannot solve the breaking of one’s trust, yours in this case, with the breaking of others’ trust. So you swallow, gather your thoughts.
“You’ve… you always made it feel like it’s my… my privilege to feel so good and… and…” you sniffle, burying your face against him once more as you sigh. “I feel guilty for… for having to—asking to—stop.” You feel his breath still, and you tug him closer out of guilt. It’s as if the motion gently shakes him awake and he embraces you, pressing careful kisses where he was able to.
“That was never my intention, darlin’...” He gently maneuvers you, just enough so you had to look into his eyes— those soft, warm eyes that looked at you the night you met in the bar. “I should be sorry, and I am. God, doll… we built this… us… we built it on the idea that we entrust each other with our… vulnerabilities, and that those vulnerabilities aren’t exploited.” He cups your face, the way he always does, but his touch his careful, the way one grasps precious. “You trusted me, sugar, and I’ve been reckless with my pretty girl. I’m so sorry.”
He barely finishes the last word before you’re kissing him, arms wrapping around him in comfortable silence as he cradles you, lets you indulge until you are the first to pull away. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?” he whispers, the prickle of his beard against your jaw enough to make you giggle. “How does a bath sound?” You manage a small nod, winding down from the events of the evening as he cradles you, gently bringing you to the bathroom and seating you on the nearest counter as he leans over to prepare the warm bath, head turned away from you with a sigh.
The confession lays heavy on your lips. The confession that you’re falling for him, eyes closed, no turning back. You’re in love with him, but you think in telling him, you risk losing this… having him in the soft silences where you can be vulnerable for him and only for him. You tell him, and you picture the nights alone, guarding yourself and knowing happiness shall not exist anymore for you. Not in this lifetime.
“Do you want me to give you some privacy?”
You look to him in silence before taking a deep breath, shaking your head before biting your lip. “Stay with me,” you whisper, looking down at your feet as he settles before you. “Please don’t go too far from me.”
It’s how the two of you end up, with you on his lap, the warm water encompassing the two of you as  gently scrubs through your back with slow, careful circles. “Promise me something,” he says, breaking the silence as he carefully pulls you closer to him. “Never ever think you cannot say no to me ever again.” Your head rears to look into his eyes and he couldn’t help but chuckle, kissing your cheek lovingly. “I’d rather have your scorn than seein’ you afraid of me, darlin’.”
You promise him. As if you would deprive him of anything ever again. As if you could bear the way you saw his heart break from your reaction earlier that evening. As if you could bear the sight of him pulling away from you ever again. If it meant keeping him this close to you for some time more—be it a day, another evening, another month, another year—you’d take everything you can.
The both of you make up shortly thereafter. Joel is half-surprised to see you crawling on top of him, facing him as you ask him. He groans at the feel of your nails digging down into the back of his neck as you fuck yourself on him. He lets you take what you want. As if he can deprive you of anything, be it affection or debauchery. He takes you by your word when you ask him to take you to bed— and he makes love to you in the darkness.
You are his God and all the Saints in the body of one mortal. Daisies and thunderstorms and metamorphoses combined. He looks for you in the other people he meets. But they do not have your shyness, your bright smile, nor the complete surrender you offer so willingly to him. He wonders, sometimes, in the darkness, if he will ever find it within himself to cross the boundaries he himself had built. So he tells you he loves you in other ways. When he cradles your face, when he wipes you clean post-coitus, showering your skin with kisses. When he embraces you in his arms when you drift to sleep with a wide, warm smile of peace etched on your face. He whispers it, sometimes, when he kisses your forehead before he leaves, dressed in his clothes from last night.
He’ll rather have you like this. If, by some twist of fate, he loses the presence of your divinity, then he shall forever return to this moment— you on your hands and knees with your back arching into his touch, your warm breath, your trembling breast. Perhaps an eternity, locked together this way, is the closest to heaven he will ever come across. And should he face damnation, flailed and torn apart by hail at the second circle of hell, he shall regret nothing. Should he be offered salvation in exchange of forgetting you, he shall spit at the face of God with a smile. He’d tell Him he’ll do it all over again.
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A/N: this is the part where i say sorry for letting my current reads and whatnot influence what i'm writing. but this is also your sign to read the divine comedy if you want to :'DDD thank you so so so much for reading!!
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