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mieczyslawsravenclaw · 2 months

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Eidetic Memory Be Damned -Spencer Reid

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•Pairing - Spencer Reid x FemFBIAgent!Reader

•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!

•Summary/Prompt - Spencer is tired of only having the memory of you to enjoy during his spicy times , so he just has to intrude into your hotel room after a case is finished…

•Warnings/Content - p in the v unprotected (hey kids- DONT DO IT) ; cursing ; Spence loves to beg to nut in you and does so ; creampie ; some pain play? (just a lil hand on the throat dealio and some hair pulling) ; LOTS of praise on both sides (good boy, pretty girl, etc) ; very mf horny lol ; (basically they do just about everything from first base to last bestie slay)

•Word Count - 3.3k

•Authorʼs Note(s) - Iʼm so mf rusty at writing smut so this is probs not the best, I just wanted to write some Spencer spice cause I had a spicy dream about him lmao RIP >_< Also this'll be my first official post of my writing on Tumblr slayyyyy

•Additional Tags - Switch!Spencer , Switch!Reader , Spencer is a needy brat LMAO , Team has ‘no ideaʼ you two are hooking up (Be so mf fr they do) , Good aftercare is so valid , Spencer loves being cuffed and teased muahaha

As much as this last case had taken out of me, I was more than happy to get to spend some time in my hotel room while the jet refueled and everyone got their bearings. Itʼs not home - far from it, Iʼd been missing my own bed for the majority of our time here in whatever state it was now - but at least it was something.

But of course, the reprieve wouldnʼt last long - a sharp knock on my door confirmed that, about 20 minutes after Iʼd laid down to sleep.

“What…ˮ I groan, frustratedly looking over at the clock.

The knock, again, more persistent this time. And I recognize its pattern now, three short tap-taps. Spencer.

My heartbeat, despite my minor annoyance at being woken up, is hammering now. Spencer seems to do that to me, from the moment Iʼd realized I have feelings for him, carrying into whatever it is that we are now. Secret trysts that Iʼm sure are no secret to our team members, especially Garcia, because sheʼd pried it out of me almost immediately and now waits in her dark little room with nothing else but excitement for the latest updates on us, it seems.

“Are you awake?ˮ A gentle but still much-too-loud voice asks.

I tumble out of bed, rushing to the door. I donʼt even have time to make sure I look okay - Iʼm much too worried about anyone else hearing him. The door is unlocked and pulled open in record time, a stunned lanky man quickly and semi-quietly forced inside.

“Spence, someoneʼs gonna hear you if you keep on like that.ˮ I chastise him, shutting and locking the door behind us. No sooner have I done so, than his lithe form overtakes me, nestling into the crook of my neck with a groan that seems both relieved and not relieved at all.

“Donʼt care,ˮ He pushes me back, until my legs meet the mattress and fold. Quickly following on top of me, he sighs, “Been too long. I miss you. You know I have an eidetic memory, yeah? Doesnʼt mean shit when Iʼm up late and even thoughts of you arenʼt enough to keep me satiated.ˮ

“Someoneʼs gonna-ˮ Hear, I want to say. He knows, of course he does. And Iʼm only half-complaining, with his lips at my neck and his leg sneaking up between mine the way he also knows.

“Donʼt care.ˮ He repeats, the low moan at the back of his throat breaking through into the silent room. “I told you I miss you. Should I tell you about what I use my memory for? And just how much that hasnʼt been enough lately? Or should I show you?ˮ

Itʼs clearly a rhetorical question, but still, he seeks the permission I am more than happy to grant.

“Tell me. Uh, show me. I mean-ˮ

“I can do both,ˮ Even in the dark, I know heʼs got that matter of fact smirk on his lips. He reaches down, holding me by the hip with one hand while the other slips into my pajamas, a practiced motion heʼs all too good at by now. “Usually this is what I remember first. The way your skin feels, how nice it is to make you tremble beneath my touch.ˮ

I buck up, and he chuckles.

“All too eager, arenʼt you? Clearly youʼve been thinking about it too, huh, pretty girl?ˮ A pointed question he knows Iʼll struggle to answer, with his hand and his voice torturing me so.

“No eid- identical- uh, no memory recall whatever for me.ˮ

“Still wouldnʼt satiate, I bet.ˮ He remarks, casually rubbing circles and patterns over my panties. This is how he operates, surely and with no warning. A gentle but firm kiss to my jaw, and he continues, “Itʼs like that for me, at least. I know no amount of recalling how you feel under me will be enough to match just how nice it is.ˮ

Heʼs right, and of course he is; I can barely handle the teasing, the tone his voice has taken in this short amount of time. And I currently dont care if weʼre heard, either.

“Spence-ˮ

“What is it, sweetheart? Too much for you? Not enough?ˮ

“Please?ˮ

“Words, honey. Youʼve gotta use your words. Or you can show me, Iʼm okay withthat too.ˮ He guides my hand down to his.

“More.ˮ I plead, working to undress myself before his hands take over.

“You only have to ask.ˮ

True to his word, Spencer pulls the fabric away, no longer allowing it to be a block between us. Itʼs lost somewhere in the sheets as he kisses me, his practiced hands no longer in the mood to tease. He slips a finger in, and when I let out a keening whine, another, his free hand going automatically to my mouth.

“Now as much as I say I donʼt care, youʼve gotta be a little quiet for me,ˮ He goads, knowing this will only make it harder for me to do so. His breath is hot in my ear, his fingers working a motion thatʼs both breaking pent up weeks old frustration, and yet causing more tension in my belly. “Much as I love your voice. Your sounds. The-ˮ

I rut up against him, my lips opening around his thumb. He works it into my mouth, his voice lowering even further.

“Cmon, show me how much you missed me, huh, princess?ˮ

I moan, words lost in my mind as it spins. Every tug of his fingers between my thighs is building a high Iʼm chasing, and when I get to this point, Iʼm not talking - he is. And he knows it, knows the right words to say to build and break me.

“This is what Iʼm after, this is what I canʼt just remember. Because itʼs all too much to remember how good it feels to destroy you.ˮ

Please, please. I canʼt hold off much longer.

“Now are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?ˮ

I nod, lips opening and letting his hand free from my mouth as my breaths grow heavy. “Canʼt - Please, Spence, please-ˮ

He presses me further into the mattress, murmuring sweet and dirty nothings into my ear as the dam breaks and I ride my high. Iʼm far too sensitive following, and when I try to push him away for a moment, allow myself to collect some sort of reprieve before we continue, he chuckles lowly.

“See, I can recall that clear as day. But itʼs so much sweeter to have it happening in front of me, you know?ˮ He nestles in beside me, turning me to face him.

Nigh immediately, Iʼm reaching for his belt buckle. Of course he wouldnʼt have changed into comfortable clothes, not even this late- Iʼm sure this was his plan all along, and he tried to fight it as long as he could.

“Someoneʼs eager.ˮ He quips, the smirk growing.

“Youʼve got me thinking about it,ˮ I sigh, letting him maneuver himself out of the constricting clothing. “Coming over and getting me all hot and bothered. I really ought to…ˮ

“Ought to what?ˮ He goads, pulling me onto him with a low noise as we brush together. “Hmm? Are you gonna say…you ought to punish me?ˮ

I nod, rubbing back against him. He lets out a moan, hands gripping my hips tighter.

“I remember how that feels,ˮ He pulls me closer, voice dropping. “But for your sake, maybe you should refresh me.ˮ

When he reaches for me again, I pull back, pinning his hands down above his head. I know he could get out of it if he really wanted to - Iʼm strong, but not stronger than him - but he most certainly doesnʼt want to get out of it. And Iʼm enjoying it far too much to stop myself now.

“Whatʼre you gonna do, cuff me?ˮ He snaps, the bratty attitude far too practiced and already making me a soaking mess.

“I might.ˮ I reach for my pair, knowing all too well that heʼll absolutely lose it once I let go on him. I can hardly stand the anticipation. “Scared, Reid?ˮ

“Terrified. Please, donʼt. Iʼve been a good boy, I swear.ˮ

I push him back while he pleads, tightening the metal around his wrists. The look on his face, muffled as it is by the darkness of the room, is more than enough to spur me on.

“Not thinking about this at all, huh?ˮ I shed my top, if only for the knowledge that his inability to reach for my breasts drives him utterly insane. “And Iʼm sure you havenʼt spent many late nights with the memory of me riding you, have you? Havenʼt had your hands on that pretty cock of yours, thinking about how it feels when itʼs me, yeah?ˮ

“N-Not at all.ˮ

“Itʼs a shame, then.ˮ I tease, feeling him harden beneath me with every word. “Iʼll have to make you confess, I suppose.ˮ

His eyes follow my every move as I back up, slotting between his legs and bending down to kiss along his hips.

“Youʼll never get it out of me.ˮ He groans.

“Is that a promise or a challenge?ˮ I ask, not breaking eye contact as I place a kiss on his sensitive head.

“Challenge? Would I…challenge you?ˮ He still holds onto a moment of sanity, until I take him in my mouth, and itʼs lost with a sigh of, “Oh, would I.ˮ

I bob my head, my practiced motions coming in handy now. The usually-full-of- remarks Spencer Reid folds under my touch, soft deep moans and babble of confessions and wish I could pull your hair passing his lips while I work him out.

After a few moments of this, I let him free - at least from the torture of my lips.

“Where are you going? Please, I wanna cum for you, Iʼll tell you everything I did while I couldnʼt stand to wait for you.ˮ He keens.

“Oh, Iʼm far from done with you, Spence.ˮ I slowly, agonizingly slowly, climb back on top of him, making sure to back right up against him as he tightens against the cuffs. “Donʼt you worry, Iʼll have every measly confession pouring from you. You know I will.ˮ

“Please, let me out- Gotta touch you, I just gotta-ˮ

“Shh, be good for me, wonʼt you?ˮ I lift myself over his face, pressing my folds to his lips. “Unless you wanna stay in those forever.ˮ

He shakes his head, vibrating a ‘noʼ against me.

“Good. Now youʼre gonna pay your dues and clean up the mess youʼve made.ˮ

Eagerly, he laps at me like heʼs never had it before. His utter submissiveness overwhelms him, letting me ride his face to my hearts content. Words are muffled and entirely lost in it, and I know by now that the sounds Iʼm making alone will be heard, but I donʼt really care. Iʼm too far gone in how good it feels to finally have him making me cum again.

“Can I touch you now?ˮ

I slide back onto him, teasingly letting myself rest with just the edge of him pressing into my folds.

“Can you?ˮ I look pointedly at his wrists.

“I-oh, my god, clearly not, but-ˮ

“How about this?ˮ I amend. “You give me a confession, you get a reward. Sound fair?ˮ

“Yeah, sounds just fine. I couldnʼt get off without coming here, you realize that, donʼt you? Youʼre the only thing that gets me off anymo-Oh-ˮ His confession is cut short as I slide him a bit further in, just enough to spur him further. “I mean, I get off, donʼt get me wrong here. But nothing feels as good as when itʼs with you. Nothing.ˮ

“Keep going, youʼre doing good.ˮ I praise, sinking a bit deeper.

“Goddamn you feel so good.ˮ He moans. “Like, my hands canʼt even come close to this, are you kidding? I can try all I want, and believe me, I have - Oh, my god, please donʼt stop - Iʼve been trying all the time, I admit that, canʼt hardly stand being around you and not being able to just fuck you whenever I want.ˮ

I push down further, the stretch he gives me loosing my own moan. “How much do you wanna fuck me, Spence? Tell me, please.ˮ

“God, all the time. Itʼs all I can think about when I get down to it - baby, can I please touch you now?ˮ

“Punishment is a bitch, isnʼt it, Reid?ˮ I smirk, starting to push him in and out of me, slowly and with a devious grin that falters at just how damn good it is.

“Baby, Iʼm gonna get outta these and fuck you so good-ˮ

“Try it.ˮ I raise an eyebrow, stopping my motions.

“Oh- No, Iʼm sorry, please donʼt stop. Iʼll be good, I promise.ˮ

“Yeah, you will.ˮ I drop as far as I can take him, savoring the stuttered animalistic groan he lets out as I press down onto him, pulling his hair and moving my hips around him. As he is want to do, heʼs thrusting up into me, even if heʼs unable to reach me with his hands held up as they are. “Eager, sweet boy. Iʼm gonna ruin you.ˮ

And ruin him, I do. The tension and heat in my belly rides and breaks several times, with him unable to form real words except for the continuous begging of please donʼt stop repeated on a loop until I feel Iʼm satisfied with his demeanor.

Once Iʼve tortured him enough, I reach for the cuffs, ready to let him off the leash - knowing that once I do, the balance will shift. Truthfully, Iʼm just eager to let him be true to his word and fuck me like heʼs been dying to.

“You donʼt need any more confessions from me, then?ˮ He huffs, sweat slicked across his brow from the effort of holding back - though heʼs not really done so, has he?

“One last one, I suppose.ˮ I pull off of him, and the pout he gives nearly makes me sit right back down on him again.

“Alright, Iʼll be good and honest with you, then.ˮ He continues while I set to unlocking the cuffs, “You know the other day, just after we got the final piece of evidence put together?ˮ

I nod.

ˮI was so psyched, I couldʼve taken you right there. I donʼt care that everyone would have known, would have seen. Itʼs just something you do to me.ˮ He finishes, his tone light. Oh boy, Iʼm about to get railed. “I love you. And now Iʼm gonna fuck you like Iʼve been wanting to for weeks.ˮ

No sooner is he free, tearing off the shirt he was wearing and looming over me with the hungriest of looks at my body before pressing himself into me. No wait, no teasing - heʼs not got the control for it, clearly, and Iʼm not complaining one bit.

“Next time, you get the cuffs, pretty girl.ˮ He promises, his hands all over my body now that he can manage it. Hard, precise thrusts, his voice heavy and fucked-out.

“And Iʼll show you just what Iʼve been wanting to do that Iʼm gonna savor in my mind after.ˮ

My nails are leaving deep trails in his back, surely leading to marks that would raise questions if anyone else saw. Heʼs so far in me, almost bottomed out, and itʼs almost too much and yet not enough all at once. I pull him closer, and his hand tangles in my hair while the other clasps around my throat.

“Youʼre all mine.ˮ Spencer growls - truly, thereʼs not other word for it, the purely animal drive taking him to a world where itʼs just us, just this. And Iʼm there too, crying out with the ecstasy his body causes my own.

“All yours.ˮ

“Thatʼs right, pretty girl. Say it for me, I wanna hear you say it.ˮ

“Iʼm all yours, Spence- oh, my god-ˮ

“Good, thatʼs good. My pretty girl. Youʼre so tight, you feel so good wrapped around me, donʼt you? God, what a sight.ˮ Here he is, in his rambles now, and I can hardly contain how close I am. “Wanna tell everyone this is mine. Iʼm the only one that gets to have you, gets to fuck you like this. See you break for me. Only me.ˮ

“Only you, Spence, only you-ˮ

“Cʼmon, I know youʼre close, I can feel it. You get so much tighter, god, if itʼs even possible-ˮ

“Spencer-ˮ

“Thatʼs my girl, cum for me.ˮ

“Donʼt stop-ˮ I can feel the cord in me ready to snap, chasing my most intense orgasm of the night with his words and the feeling of him slamming so deep inside me. “More, Spence, you can give me more-ˮ

“Sweet girl, of course, I know you can handle it.ˮ He pushes himself fully in, my breath catching at the slight pain, yet itʼs still so good, I canʼt stop it, I donʼt want to. “Want me to fuck you so good with all of me, donʼt you?ˮ

I nod against his grasp, and he loosens it a bit, kissing me fervently.

“Please, please cum for me, I wanna feel you all over me, beautiful.ˮ He reaches down, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit. Itʼs the last thing I need to send me over that edge, and I cry out, his name slipping past my lips unwarranted. “Oh, baby, love how you say my name. Like itʼs a prayer, like Iʼm a god.ˮ

“Donʼt stop, Spence-ˮ

“Iʼm close, baby- Oh, I wanna cum in you-ˮ

Another orgasm follows near immediately after this one, and Iʼm grasping at him while heʼs chasing his own, his hands fumbling and his thrusts getting sloppy. He grips the sheets, his breaths stunted.

“Cum in me, please-ˮ

“Iʼm gonna, god, Iʼm so fuckinʼ close-ˮ He tightens around me, muscles shaking as he lets loose, and now itʼs his turn to moan my name a lot louder than he should while he cums. Heʼs so pretty when he does, too - the crease that works between his brows, the round pucker to his lips. Partly through, he kisses me, hard. And when heʼs done, his grip loosens, falling slack on top of me with a contented sigh.

A few moments pass where he just holds me, peppering soft kisses across my face and telling me you did such a good job, baby. Then, he pops up with a smile and comes back with water and a towel, cleaning up after himself.

“Satisfied?ˮ I chuckle, slowly pulling my clothes back on.

“Almost.ˮ He dips his head down, capturing a nipple in his mouth for a few moments. I groan, overstimulated, but still too happy to appease him. “Now, Iʼm satisfied. Iʼm staying in here, okay? Donʼt care if someone sees at this point.ˮ

“Spence?ˮ

“Mmhm?ˮ

“I love you, too.ˮ

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #sub!spencer reid

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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xxsunoosprincess · 3 months

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Enhypen’s kinks (OT6)

What gets Enhypen going

pairings: Enhypen legal line x reader

warnings: 18+, minors dni, discussion of lots of kinks (do let me know if you think any should get tagged here), fem!reader

Heeseung

Hair pulling. He loves when he’s going down on you or when he’s fucking into you and your hands go to his hair. The first time you pulled his hair when he was rocking into you he came immediately. Really embarrassed about it but moans so pretty. Totally worth it!! Also really into having you in doggy and pulling your hair so your head tilts back. Not only does it give him great access to kiss your neck, it also prevents you from hiding your moans in the pillow.

Facials. Please let him cum on your face. Such a nasty boy, cums so so much when he is jerking himself over your pretty face. The way his jizz clumps in your lashes, when it drips off your face onto your breasts. Probably could give you another one just from the sight alone. Might even snap a quick picture of you like that just for safe keeping. He feels really bad about asking you to do this though, needs a bit encouragement to act on his most secret fantasies.

Handjobs. Eeekk!! He loves when you jerk him off. Likes when you use a lot of lube and he can hear the schlick schlick schlick of your hand moving up and down his cock. His ears turn bright red and he fucks into your hand so nicely. Tell him he’s a good boy, so strong and pretty… the praise is just the cherry on top for such a hard worker.

Jay

Body worship. I think this goes both ways. He loves when you touch his muscles and tell him how big and strong he is but he also loves when he gets to take his time loving you the way you deserve. Foreplay is an extensive process of him kissing every square inch of skin and murmuring about how hot he finds you, how hard you make him, how good he’s going to fuck you. Chronic case of wandering hands aka always has to be touching you.

Mutual Masturbation. When he is away on tour he always FaceTimes you. Has to show off his hard cock and wants you to get off with him <3 Even when y’all are physically together, he’s a huge fan of finishing every session with his hand around his cock and your fingers playing with your cute little clit!

Spanking. Do you see how often he smacks his member’s asses? You are no exception. He loves playfully swatting your ass when y’all are out together, makes for such a pretty picture when he’s undressing you and your cheeks are already so sensitive :( be a good girl for him, yeah? Or he will make sure to spank you raw!! Honestly, he probably will still do it regardless of your behavior. He loves your ass sm. Thinks about it every single day.

Jake

Spit kink. My drooly little baby <//3 He can’t keep that damn tongue in his mouth. Loves the way the wet trail shines in the dim light of your bedroom when he sucks on your tits. Cums in his pants when you spit in his mouth during make out sessions. Loves when you choke on his dick and leave trails of drool down the sides of his thick cock. So nasty Jake!

Oral (giving). Can’t keep that damn tongue in his mouth pt. 2. Literally makes out with your cunt. Eats you out for hours. Won’t put his cock anywhere near you until you’ve cum on his tongue at least twice. Literally his dream for you to ride his face and squirt on it. This is so serious for him, it doesn’t matter if you haven’t shaved in months or if you are sweaty. He thinks you have the sweetest, most delicious little pussy on the planet. Definitely humps the bed while eating you out.

Tickling?? Kind of out of left field for him but a result of him feeling you up every chance he gets. Such a needy guy. The feather-light touches down your torso and the beautiful laughter it pulls out of you… his dick is literally throbbing. Loves when you whisper and giggle in his ear while he fucks into you. The mood will always be playful and sensual with him.

Sunghoon

Name calling. I know I said I was off the hard dom Sunghoon train but hear me out! He’s a big proponent of the “my little whore” “my perfect little cock slut” agenda. It’s always a package deal: name calling + praise + ownership. Most of the time he doesn’t even mean to do it, it just spills out of him every time you are anywhere near his cock. You are just such a darling thing to him, even outside of the bed he is always calling you sweetheart or baby or love, yk the type of shit that makes his friends gag from the overload of sweetness.

Rope bunny. Maybe this is a little self indulgent, but I think Sunghoon just loves to be tied up. It started one night when you felt him rutting against your ass in his sleep. As he woke up, you pinned his hands above his head and rode him until the sun came up. He swears he came so hard he passed out. Since then it’s become a bit more intricate. There is a shoe box under his bed with ropes and ties he’s snatched from stylists after red carpet events. Begging you to tie him up and watch him squirm while you suck him off.

Squirting. Sorry. But I mean it. He thinks it’s so fucking hot when you make a mess. It’s proof he is fucking you good, in his eyes. Always has fingers or a toy working your clit. Don’t be surprised when he suggests wearing a vibrator in public. He wants you to be super sensitive once he finally gets you home and has a hand down your pants. If you think you can’t squirt… trust Sunghoon will prove you wrong by the end of the night.

Sunoo

Dry humping. Sunoo loves making out with you and loves when you grind down on him. Or when he grinds down on you. It seriously doesn’t matter what the position is, there is something so lewd about the press of his cock against his pants as he ruts into you. Nearly every single time you fuck, it is preceded by a dry humping session. Cumming in his pants is (embarrassingly) a huge turn on for him.

Pussy slapping. He’s so mean for this! He takes his time undressing you, lays you out in front of him, bends your legs against your chest so he can get a good look at your cunny, and then slap! He loves the way you squeal and squirm!! It’s so cute. Sometimes he likes to wrap one arm around your front while you sit on his lap and he’s fucking into you just so he can reach around and spank your clit. Can’t even count how many times he has made you cum from this dirty little trick. And afterwards, the sight of your pussy spanked raw while his cum leaks out… it’s just perfect. Probably fucks it back into you just to hear you squeal again.

Cock worship. Sunoo knows he’s pretty, okay? His cock is no different. It’s so pretty and flushes red, near purple at the tip when he gets close <3 It’s a good thing he gets off on this, because you literally can’t help but drop to your knees and worship him every time he takes his pants off. Make sure to tell him how perfect his dick is while you suck on his balls, the way it makes him leak precum so quickly is so cute!

Jungwon

Overstimulation. Jungwon can cum untouched. It’s actually near impossible to edge him because he cums so easily <3 That doesn’t mean he isn’t going to try though. Edging attempts just turn into multiple orgasms with him whining and sweating over top of you. Even when he is alone, he isn’t satisfied until he has pulled at least two proper orgasms out of himself.

Marking. This actually encompasses two things: creampies and hickeys. I mean this so sincerely, you have to bring over concealer and/or a turtle neck when you spend the night because your neck and tits will be COVERED. But also… he needs to cum inside. He cums so so much every time, and loves to pull out and watch it drip out of you. Plugs you up so you are prepped for when he is ready to go again, how considerate <3

Sloppy kisses. He loves when you are both fucked out and kissing. Practically pries your mouth open to lick into it. The mess of drool is such a deviation away from his normal, controlled leader personality but it’s just the break he needs. Being able to leave wet kisses all over you is so relaxing for him. Verges on body worship, but it’s really being able to see the way your lips and chin are wet with his spit that makes him go crazy.

END.

a/n: Seeing the support on my last post made me smile so big!! Thank y’all soooo much. Feel free to send in requests if you wanna see more. xx - princess

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d6volution · 7 months

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Nascent

Jax/Reader. [Fem alinged reader.]

tags: oral sex, virginity, loss of virginity, established relationships, soft(?) jax, fluff, and smut, jax has a tongue.

Also found on my Ao3 | 2k words.

minors dni.

Jax's gloved fingers tip toed up your side, and you shivered.

"What's wreckin' ya mind dollface, you're bein a little too quiet tonight." You shuffled on the bed before rolling onto your side to face him. "Thinking too much.. I miss home. Being stuck here.. sucks." Jax was silent as you spoke, but a lazy smile was atill present on his lips. "Mnh. Yeeaaahh.. never gets old does it?" Jax laid on his back, hands folded behind his head now.

You took this chance to lay on his chest, nuzzling him a little. He grinned , but before he could say something sly you spoke up instead—

"Jax, I ... think I wanna try it." You mumbled into his chest.

"Mhmm.. try what?" His eyes were closed now. He was clearly relaxing, and your words weren't exactly clicking right now.

"It.. you know.. I just need something to take my mind off of things and—" Jax suddenly sat up , his chest bumping into your nose. His hands were on your shoulders, steading you. "You're not messin' with me, are ya? I'd like to think I've been really respectful of your boundaries lately, ya know." It sounded like he didn't believe you, but he was trying his hardest not to sound like an ass. He got a few gropes in here and there but never pushed you farther than you wanted to go.

"I'm.. serious. We'll just take it slow.." You said and felt your cheeks growing warm at the thought of being intimate with him. You've thought about it a lot but always chickened out.

"I dunno toots, I'm not sure I could hold bac—..." His hand was gliding up your back, but you shot him a look and he chuckled. Raising his hands in his defense. "Alright, alright slow it is.." After all he doesn't have to move fast to drive you crazy anyways.

"W.. Well how do we.. start? It's.. not like I can make out you.. I think." Right, you guys always exchange nuzzles instead. But Jax rolls his eyes and adjusts himself on the bed, "Just lay back will ya? I'll lead the way."

You swallowed and did like he said, falling to the plush of your bed and you felt his hands on your legs. Spreading them apart , you were resisting a little and he paused. "C'mon , I said I'd be gentle and I will babe. Scouts honor." He crossed his heart before grinning down at your nervous form.

"S.. Sorry, I haven't even been this far in the real world no less the digital.." You said embarrassed by your lack of experience. Hoping Jax wouldn't tease you too badly, but he seemed to be taking your feelings into consideration.

"Digital or not , I'm glad ya happened to save yourself for me. Now let me show you how much I appreciate that.. yeah?" He removed your lower clothing and the cold air hitting your skin caused you to shiver. You swore you saw his eyes grow dark for a moment but you didn't have a chance to analyze his expression too much before he yanked you a little by your ankles down the bed and closer to him. "Eep..!" His head was in between your legs now, and you felt something wet running along your thighs, "Jax !?"

"Mmn? I'm in the middle of something doll—"

"I.. Is that your ..tongue..!?" You cut him off and he chuckled you could feel his breath against your skin but he didn't answer. Continuing his assault on your thighs until the wet muscle finally found your folds and you stiffened up, trying to move away from the strange and new sensation but his hands pulled you back gently. "Mnh.. listen , babe. Ya gotta let me know if I'm doin' somethin' wrong alright?" He lifted his head, leaving your cunt clenching and aching for more.

"N.. No, I..I'm sorry I was just surprised— I didn't know you could.. it doesn't matter just continue.. please." You turned your head to the side, avoiding his intense eye contact.

"Before that, give me a word. So....ya know. I'll know when to stop," He said , still admiring your more vulnerable position right now.

"Uh.." You can't think, your mind clouded by the ever growing lust bubbling in your core. "I.. I don't know.. uh, circus!"

He scoffed, clearly amused. "How original."

"Ha. Ha. I can't really think right now, Jax– aahh..!" Your hips bucked as his tongue flicked against that sensitive bean hidden between your folds. Oh, he liked that noise. A little too much, and now he needed more. And he a knew a trick that would keep you singing so sweetly for him.

He licked and flicked at your clit before flatting his long tongue against you dragging his tongue agonizingly slow along your puffy cunt before pulling back, maybe because your thighs were crushing his head now. "Look toots, I know I'm rockin your world here but ya gotta keep those legs open for me yeah?" He said in a somewhat strained voice, prying your legs apart again.

You nodded, your eyes glossy with tears. You were so needy in this moment that you'd do anything he'd ask. "Close 'em again and I'll stop, how about that for a little motivation.~" His voice was playful but, you knew he was serious and that made your insides twist a little.

"Th.. That isn't fair Jax..!" You whined and kept your legs spread even so, though they trembled and you felt even more exposed keeping them open yourself rather him holding them apart.

"Pleaaasee. To be honest, I think it's perfectly fair. You told me to take slow, not that I couldn't be a little mean.. isn't that what ya love about me after all?" He said in a breathy tone, before his eyes were on your cunt again.

"You're gorgeous ya know that? Don't.. tell anyone I said that. Compliments are like currency here." He said with a tad bit of annoyance lacing his tone, "I only wanna spend that on you .." He muttered before lowering himself to go down on you again.

But this time, he was purposely being more attentive. His tongue even diving into your cunt, wiggling its way into your tight hole. And a thick finger sliding inside, you yelped and your legs threatned to close around his head but you forced to yourself to hold your trembling thighs apart. Having his finger to clench down on made it easier to cause friction and push you closer to climax.

Tears spilled over your cheeks from the stimulation and frustration.

"Mmn... mmf.." Jax moaned against your sopping wet cunt, removing his finger and using his tongue instead.. thrusting it in and out of your hole. His lidded eyes bored into your skull, you looked delicious to him when you cried.

You couldn't take it, your body jolted and legs locked around his head as you came. Soiling his face in the process. "Hh.. Hhaa..! Damn it.."

Jax tutted as he lifted his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ya didn't keep your legs open at the end there.. Hm, I'm not sure I should let you get away with that." The tone of his voice was playful. He grins, that shit eating grin while staring at you as he climbed atop your quivering body. You were clearly still coming down from your high.

"H..Huh..? Jax.. I couldn't help it.." You sighed, chest heaving up and down. "Please.." You reached out for his hand and he allowed you, still speaking as his gloved thumb rubbed the back of your hand gently.

"Yeah, yeah of course you couldn't.. .I'm good at what I do after all," He said and kneeled in front of your spread legs. "But, we can agree ya need just a little punishment right?" He took your intertwined hands and locked them atop your head, leaving you a little exposed and vulnerable to his touch.

Pulling his cock from his overalls with the opposite hands, he started stroking it slowly. "But, I'll be gentle like ya said.." He gives a wink before leaning down and nuzzling the side of your face reassuringly. It's all apart of the bit, "You ready for this?" He whispered, making sure you were okay to move forward.

You were soaked between your legs. More than ready but still a little nervous. "Ready.." You agreed quietly, the tension in the air was palpable.

You should be relaxed after his reassurance, but the size of his cock resting in his hand was making your body tense and cunt clench around nothing.. in both anticipation and a dash of fear.

He rubbed the thick tip against your sopping wet hole, and dragged it against your clit, teasing you. "Gentle.. yeeah... mn.." He muttered, getting lost in this bit of pleasure. "So good for me.."

Gentle. Slow. Teasing.

Fuck, you couldn't take it. He had to be grinding against your cunt for two minutes straight now.

"Jax..please..please just put it in.."

"Mmn. Don't worryy.. I'll take of care ya, make you feel reeaal good.." "He said and let go of your hands as he focused on lining himself up with your hole, his tip nudged at your tight hole. Slipping a few times when he tried to push forward, "Too fuckin' tight doll, hold on yeah..? Your cute cunt seems to need some convincing.." He thrusted forward rather hard, a few inches finally pushing past the resistance in your cunt.

"Jax..!" You yelped in pain, a burning sensation was felt in between your legs and he shushed you, staying completely still. "Hey, hey.. I've got ya, I'm right here.. breathe doll." He said and watched your expressions.. so determined to take him, yet so vulnerable. It made him throb inside of you.

After a several seconds you finally spoke. "Y.. You can move now.."

He was trying so hard to hold back, it's been forever since he was buried in a pussy. So once you gave him the okay he began to move, albeit slow. More inches sunk into your wet hole. Causing your back to arch a little, "Nngh..." Jax was grunting in your ear until he finally bottomed out inside of you, "There we go, nice and deep in there... ya feel that? Feel me?" He said as his hand traced your stomach just long your belly button.

"So big .. Jax.. feels good.." You panted out, unintentionally bucking your hips forward. "Mmn.. I know doll, Im gonna move alright..?" He said and you nodded, arms around his neck now as he started to slide in and out of you, lewd squishing noises and soft moans and grunts filled the room. You were both lost in the pleasure, your body relaxing more and Jax becoming a bit more rough.

"Yeah.. nngh.. ju-just like that ... take it .." He panted out, taking one of your legs and placing it on his shoulder, his hips were a blur now but your expressions and cries of pleasure was all the reassurance he needed to keep drilling into your cunt.

Your mind felt cloudly with lust, but that unmistakable knot in your stomach was only getting tighter, threatening to burst. He could feel you, and took this opportunity to draw gentle circles along your clit, "T.. There ya go.. wanna come for me, c'mon.." He egged you on , rolling his hips deep into your cunt. His full weight accompanied each hard thrust.

You tried to hold on , but he knew how to hit every sensitive spot. Over and over. His hips slapping against yours , the sound of your bodies colliding rung in your ears.

"Ffuuahh Jax, gonna co.. come .. gonna..!!" You whined, nails digging into his back as you held him close. Cunt clamping down on his size hard. His own hips stuttered, "D..Damn it, doll.. ya tryna milk me or something..?" He sighed as he spilled into your cunt, unable to resist the way you clamped down onto him.

He gave a few more shallow thrust, forcing back in the cum that threatned to spill out. "You're perfect.." He sighed out, clearly spent and slowly pulling out of your twitching hole.

"Mmn.. thank you Jax, for this.." You kissed his cheek and out of all things, that seemed to make him flush a little.

"Don't sweat it.. let's," He cleared his throat, "Get you cleaned up alright.. I'll run a bath,"

"Can't we cuddle for a bit first..?"

Jax froze and rubbed his neck, "Look toots, I'm not sure about gettin all cuddled up on cum stained sheets," He rose his hands, "Hey, but if thats what you're into I'm not one to kinksh– oof." You tossed a pillow at his face, and he chuckled.

"Heh, like I thought, now let's get all cleaned up first, then I'll cuddle all you'd like doll.

"Sound like a deal?"

#the amazing digital circus #jax tadc #jax x reader #jaxsmut #minors dni #jax the amazing digital circus

1K notes · View notes

theyluvkarolina · 15 days

Note

heyy!!!

can i request lando x volleyball girlie who did vb for two years but has to quit because of a knee injury please? feel free to ignore if this doesn't spark anything!!

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 (𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓)

· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` it’s giving oikawa from haikyuu ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ Volleyball was all you ever known, and everything was looking up in your career, until an injury. Luckily, your boyfriend is there to hope you cope and get better.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ Lando Norris x Volleyball!Fem!Reader

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌: Maddie Madayag (for volleyball photos)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ mentions of a injury but nothing severe.

𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ tysm for the request! I decided to do my own little spin on this with making this a bit more of a crack fic but definitely kept the volleyball and knee injury! Also, this is pretty short! I’m so sorry with the length of this, but i really liked this request and wanted to do it! I hope you enjoy it 🩶 I’ve had my fair share of injuries that led me to quit what i loved, so the fic kinda hits hard for me 🥹 i used to play football/soccer growing up until i pulled my back muscle in my 9th year of school and wasn’t able to play the same ever again, injuries suck 👎

Twitter

(PS: Date on photo does not matter, fic happens between Aus and Japan GP!)

Instagram

y/n_volleys posted a story 3 minutes ago!

username, landonorris, username and other replied to your story!

username1 MISS GIRL.

username2 OMG 😭😭

username3 HELLO??? NOT THE ACL

username4 we’re cooked 😞😞

landonorris THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT YOU INJURED YOURSELF??? landonorris HOLD ON landonorris I’M NOT MESSAGING YOU THROUGH INSTAGRAM DMS. landonorris OPEN MY MESSAGES.

iMessages

Twitter

Instagram

y/n_volleys ✔︎

liked by landonorris, lilymunihe, alexalbon, and others

y/n_volleys success!! surgery went well. heartbroken to be going out like this especially before the olympics but i will be coming back stronger 💪 time to take some time to myself 🫶

3,214 comments

landonorris ✔︎ whatever you do don’t move out of bed before i get home

landonorris ✔︎ drink water

landonorris ✔︎ get sleep

landonorris ✔︎ enjoy your cookie ice cream thing

landonorris ✔︎ don’t exercise too much

→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ lando are you my bf or my mom? → landonorris ✔︎ right now i’m being a caring boyfriend 🤨🤨 im sorry i love you 😒 → username5 i want to have love like this. → username6 google, how do i find a bf that cares about me, has a good job, is funny, kind, and loves me more than the world? 🧑‍💻 → lilymunihe ✔︎ @ alexalbon why aren’t you like this with me → alexalbon ✔︎ i literally already am 😕😕 → lilymunihe ✔︎ i don’t see my cookies and ice cream in a mug.

username7 the leg injury is giving oikawa from haikyu

→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ …no… no.. NO DON’T TAKE ME BACK TO 2020 → username8 Y/N IS GETTING WAR FLASHBACKS

iMessages

Instagram

y/n_volleys posted a story 24 minutes ago!

lilymunihe, username, username and other replied to your story!

username9 ZOO WEE MAMA 😍 → y/n_volleys that’s my bf 😍😍

username10 GIRL DID YOU HAVE TO POST THIS → y/n_volleys I NEED TO SHOW PEOPLE WHAT THEY ARE MISSING 😣😣

lilymunihe ✔︎ GIRL WHAT ABOUT THE KIDS HERE → y/n_volleys ✔︎ girl fuck them kids 🗣️ ‼️

y/n_volleys ✔︎

liked by landonorris, bsf_username, lailahasanovic and others

y/n_volleys get yourself a bf who takes care of you after tearing you leg apart 🩷

tagged ; landonorris

3,245 comments

username11 they are actually so cute

username12 dumping my bf if he doesn’t do this more me.

oscarpiastri ✔︎what a caption!

→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ do you want it in full detail → oscarpiastri ✔︎ no.

carlosainz55 ✔︎ did lando ever finish that puzzle?

→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ he did finish it → carlosainz55 ✔︎ …did? → y/n_volleys ✔︎ yeah it was finished BEFORE HE DROPPED IT ON THE FLOOR TRYING TO MOVE IT → landonorris ✔︎ I SAID I WAS SORRY. → y/n_volleys ✔︎ you left your injured gf to clean up the mess 😞😞 → maxfewtrell ✔︎ wooowww lando… @ landonorris → oscarpiastri ✔︎ what a gentleman @ landonorris → carlosainz55 ✔︎ntsk tsk… @ landonorris → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ some boyfriend you are @ landonorris → landonorris ✔︎ LEAVE ME ALONE I WENT TO GO GET THE BROOM → username13 it’s not a good day if y/n and lando fight with each other (lovingly)

lando.jpeg ✔︎

liked by y/n_volleys, carlosainz55, oscarpisatri and others

lando.jpeg gf appreciation post (pre injury photo included 😱)

2,571 comments

y/n_volleys ✔︎ last photo makes this feel like a facebook mom post

y/n_volleys ✔︎ i want to kiss you rn 🥹 i love you so much 🧡

→ lando.jpeg you are literally in the bed next to me rn turn over and kiss me on my hot mouth. i’m feeling romantical → oscarpiastri ✔︎ what did i just read. → y/n_volleys ✔︎ shakespeare 😍

username14 not them playing minecraft together :((

→ username15 but the real question is… did they put their beds next to each other? → y/n_volleys ✔︎ wooooahhhh what kind of unholy person do you think i am??? → lando.jpeg ✔︎ we aren’t insane 🙄 🙄

username16 i wish i was y/n

→ username17 fuck being y/n i want to be lando he has a amzing woman as his gf.

y/n_volleys ✔︎

liked by landonorris, usavwnt and others

y/n_volleys different from my other posts… but I wanted to give a big thank you to all the fans, my family, and friends for the nonstop support for me and overcoming thi injury. I can’t wait to be back in rehab training for you all to see me back on the court 🩷 lots of love!! 🥹

3,501 comments

usavwnt ✔︎ glad to see you improve and get better! see you back on the court!! 💪

Liked by y/n_volleys!

username18 not the free feet pics 😣😣

username19 y/n and lando are such cutie

username20 i’m so happy to see her get the support she needs ❤️‍🩹

landnorris ✔︎ and where is my shout out and tag???

→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ i’d also love to give a big shout out to my amazing, brunet, curly haired, British, born in Bristol boyfriend, who lives in Monaco and treats me like a princess, and is the kindest, sweetest, funniest man I’ve ever met in my life who also happens to be a f1 driver ❤️ → landnorris ✔︎ much better 😋😋 → oscarpiastri ✔︎ aw (i’m going to throw up if you keep kissing in the garage) → y/n_volleys ✔︎ ..oscar… I thought we agreed to keep that between us three… → oscarpiastri ✔︎ whoops → username21 bro outed them and said “whoops” 💀💀

815 notes · View notes

toruro · 11 months

Text

— ✧ crazy stupid love

pairing. kwon soonyoung x reader

description. your best friend, turned fuck buddy, seems a little too upset about your latest instagram post ...

tags. smut (18+), fwb to lovers, some angst, fluff, confessions, mean dom → switch hoshi, jealousy, arguments (dw there is resolution), angry sex, biting, dacryphilia, degrading (+ discussion of degradation), use of safeword, slightly inspired by crazy stupid love

w/c. 3.6k

a/n. happy birthday hoshi! ngl this has been sitting in my drafts for like 2 months but i figured i should wrap it up and post it today :3

"who's this?" soonyoung asks, holding his phone up to your face. on the screen is a picture that you posted on your story last night, your friend with an arm around your shoulder.

"huh, that's dongwoo," you say, looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows. the back of your head is leaning against his shoulder as your legs are propped up on the other end of the sofa. soonyoung came over to watch the harry potter marathon with you a few hours ago, but with the showing break going on right now, you're both taking some time to catch up on your phones.

"who's that?" soonyoung says flatly, not looking at your face as he pulls his phone back, squinting at the photo. his gaze feels oddly scrutinizing, but you don't say anything about it just yet.

sitting up from your position, soonyoung frowns as you lift yourself off of him to sit across from him on the couch. "you don't remember dongwoo? he went to high school with us?" soonyoung gives you a blank stare. "jeong dongwoo? doesn't the name ring a bell?"

the name does ring a bell, but soonyoung only shrugs and replies, "uh, no i can't say it does."

"no way! we had chem with him! he was really nice and good at labs too," you go on, reminiscing about your memories from your teen years.

"that's weird, i don't remember him." that's a lie—soonyoung definitely remembers dongwoo, but he doesn't remember him ever being as smitten with you as he looks on your post.

"well whatever," you brush off, leaning back onto soonyoung's arm. "he was in town and dmed me asking if i wanted to catch up over dinner."

"a date?" soonyoung asks shamelessly.

you scoff. "no. not a date. just two friends meeting up for dinner."

"a guy and a girl don't meet up for dinner and not call it a date," your friend argues, and then you lift yourself off of him again. soonyoung is slightly annoyed you aren't curled up by his side anymore, but he's even more annoyed by dongwoo's stupid smile on his stupid face with his stupid arm around you.

"what are you talking about? we go out for dinner all the time! those aren't dates," you tell him as a matter of factly, frowning slightly as you do.

"yeah," soonyoung murmurs with a humorless laugh. "and we usually fuck afterwards, so our case is obviously different."

heat courses through your body as the words leave his lips. it's not like he's wrong, but the shamelessness of it all is a little more than you're used to. you're used to the deafening silence and the unspoken words that fill the gaps every time soonyoung leaves you breathless, every time he leaves your brain empty, every time he fucks you.

after he says that, there's that thick, ugly silence wedging itself between you and soonyoung again. you don't like it, not one bit.

"whatever," you finally huff out, not sure if you should lay back down on him or continue sitting up, sensing that soonyoung might want to make a bigger deal out of this than is good for him. "it wasn't a date, i don't know what else to tell you."

neither of you know why you're trying to convince him of this. it shouldn't matter if it was a date or if it wasn't, if dongwoo had an arm around your shoulder, if his touch lingered more, fingers ghosting down your body, up your thigh—

that's what soonyoung tries to tell himself—that it doesn't matter, that none of it matters, that you don't matter to him—at least not like that. too bad he can't control himself. soonyoung can never control himself when it comes to you, and he's starting to wonder if that's a blessing or a curse.

he scoffs, "you're being a real brat right now."

your eyes narrow at him and while this would usually put you in one of those moods—the mood where you want to yank your pants off, have soonyoung's hand in your panties—you're slightly annoyed right now. "what's that supposed to mean?" you ask accusingly, crossing your arms tightly over your chest.

it's a thoughtless gesture but your tits bunch up together and the curve peeks over the collar of your loose shirt. soonyoung stares for a moment and then thinks about if dongwoo looked at you like this. like he wanted to grab your tits, tweak your pretty nipples between his fingers, drink in your moans while he licks into your mouth.

the thought has red flashing through his vision and before you can even think, there's a pair of hot, wet lips on yours and soonyoung is kissing you like he'll die if he doesn't. teeth gnashing against each other as one of his hands wraps around your torso, the other goes up to grab one of your tits, massaging the flesh with his palm.

yeah, you said you were annoyed, but yeah soonyoung is a great kisser and your mind is throttling, going back and forth as you try to decide if you should give in or attempt to hold your own. "soonyoung," you pant as you break away to take a breath, but his lips are on yours again too quickly for you to form a reply.

you find your resolve running thin as you thread your finger into his hair, bringing his face closer as he shifts on the couch above you, knees on either side of you, caging you in. his mouth his pressing kisses to the side of your lips now, peppering your cheeks, and then he's on your neck.

your lips aren't occupied but any words of protest have effectively died in your throat as you squirm under soonyoung when he sinks his teeth into your skin, whining out his name. your hips buck into his for some much needed tension and you can feel soonyoung chuckled against your skin as he licks over the reddening mark.

you feel dizzy when he pulls away and admires the way he's quite literally marked his territory on you. scoffing out loud, soonyoung gives you mean look. "wonder what dongwoo will think about this ..." your mind races at the words—what soonyoung means by that is still a bit of a mystery to you, but the fact that he's so hell bent on keeping you to himself is ... it's turning you on like crazy.

and soonyoung doesn't stop there as he pulls off his shirt and you try to shimmy out of your pants. "what'll he think, huh? his cute little crush ..." he murmurs, looking down at you after your pants are off and thrown to the side, leaving you in just your soiled panties. "his dream high school sweetheart with her legs open, pussy dripping, for a guy who isn't even her fuckin' boyfriend ... like a fuckin' slut."

you gasp when he brings up a thumb to toy with your clit through the fabric, hips jerking up at the contact. "w-what are you—" you're cut off by your own moan when soonyoung pushes the cloth to the side, slipping one finger into your aching cunt without warning. you really want to ask soonyoung what he means by all this, but it just feels so good—too good, and you can't help it at all—your body seems to always give into him.

his finger is already hitting that one spot that he knows has you seeing stars, and your jaw goes slack at how quickly the pleasure is all hitting you. usually, soonyoung likes to work you up to it; starts by playing with your clit for a few hot minutes 'til you're begging for just some fingers inside and then he toys with you for another good while before he finally gives you his cock and fucks you dumb. something tells you today is a bit different.

today is very different, but you have a strong feeling that you won't mind. because all it takes is a few more quick flicks of his wrist and you're crying out his name, saying, "'m gonna cum—soon-soonyoung, 'm cumming!"

you thrash around on the cushions as your orgasm hits you, and soonyoung buries his head into your neck and biting down even harder than before. the slight sting has your senses heightening and your cunt throbs around his fat fingers as he fucks you through the high, not relenting until your neck is littered with hot red marks and you're quivering beneath him.

a content sigh escapes your lips when he slips out of you, allowing yourself a moment to breathe as you start to sit up when soonyoung narrows his eyes at you, unbuckling his jeans in the process.

"don't move," he warns and although you furrow your brows, you comply nonetheless, letting your head fall back against the couch as you watch him shove down his pants and boxers in one go. soonyoung's fat length springs out, hitting against his abdomen as he shuffles his way in between your legs.

pressing his lips together, he asks, "color?" and when the word green is slipping softly from his mouth, he finds it hard to hold back. "fuck, how are you this needy already," he groans when he catches the look on your face—your bottom lip jutted out as you look up at him with shining eyes.

soonyoung grabs your cheek with one hand roughly, shoving a thumb into your mouth as he positions his cock between your folds. you're quick to wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking hard and swirling your tongue in hopes that it'll egg him on to just stick it in already, but instead he just slides his length up and down your folds.

you pout around his thumb but don't stop sucking, letting the drool run down your chin as tears well up in your waterline, and soonyoung chuckles at the look. "go on baby, go on. know you want it," he coos mockingly, continuing to cover his length in your slick but not actually giving you what you want.

"soonyoungie," you whimper when you can't take it anymore, trying to lift your hips yourself so he'll get the message but then he's pressing down on your stomach and holding you in your place.

"be patient slut," he demands, and your eyes press closed when he does, walls clenching around nothing as the word slips from his mouth. "you just came—are you really that insatiable?"

you nod dumbly as he slips his thumb out of your mouth, using the same, wet hand to tightly squish your cheeks together. soonyoung thinks you look so cute like this—puffy lips and lashes thick with tears—and he doesn't give you even a moment's warning when he snaps his cock inside of you in one go.

his balls are pressed against your ass, and soonyoung holds himself there for just a moment before he's pulling back and thrusting back into you. "god fuck—perfect pussy," he groans, thrust after thrust as you throttle against the couch with the increasing force.

you can feel your ass and thighs burn from the way his skin slaps against yours every single time, the sensation only adding fuel to the fire as you cry out his name.

"bet dongwoo thought about this," soonyoung moans as he starts jamming his cock into you less methodically and more sloppy, more hard, more fierce. "thought 'bout having you moaning his name like the pretty whore you are."

you try to mewl something along the lines of, "we're just friends," but it comes out as nothing but a high pitched moan as your second orgasm creeps up on you.

and it's fucking mind-numbing, and you don't think you've ever cum so hard and so fast but soonyoung is grinning down at you as you arch your back and squeeze around his cock so tight it almost pushes him off the edge but no—he's determined to keep going until you can't take it anymore.

"keep goin' baby, i know you can take it." he hardly gives you a second to rest, thrusts slowing only for a few moments as he watches you cream his cock before letting his hands roam all over you.

in your overstimulated haze, you hardly realize when soonyoung flips you over, cock still buried deep inside your hot cunt as you try to stabilize yourself on your knees. his hand is on the back of your neck, pressing your face into the cushions so hard it muffles your moans as his cock batters your buzzing pussy.

he's ramming into you so hard now and all you can feel is white hot pleasure ripping through your body, soonyoung whispering about how you're his filthy little slut, taking everything he's giving you. gripping onto the side of the couch, you try to hold yourself together, you really, really do, but it's too much all at the same time and the word slips from your lips before you even have to think about using it.

"r-red." it's so quiet and hoarse the first time that you aren't even sure if he can hear you so you cry out again, "red, s-soonyoung, red."

it's all a haze when soonyoung slips out of you slowly, giving you both a few moment to adjust as you finally catch your breath over the hiccups of your soft whimpers.

now soonyoung likes seeing you cry, but not when it's like this. he likes seeing you whine and tear up when you're under him and writhing from pleasure, but what he doesn't like is the way your eyebrows are furrowed like this. 'cause when he looks at you now, he sobers up and the anger that fogged his mind just moments ago is clearing up.

"s-shit, i'm sorry," he says quickly as you curl up against the cushions, limbs still quivering from all the pleasure and stimulation. soonyoung wants to reach out, wants to touch you—hold you—and ask you what wen wrong, promise you that he didn't meant to go too far, promise you that he didn't even realize it, but he's not sure if he should.

because right now you won't meet his gaze and he's wondering if he's somehow royally fucked up what's likely the best thing he's got going on his life.

soonyoung's lost for a few moments before senses are snapping into him and he thinks he should get you some water, a towel—do anything except sit here dumbly like he is right now. but when he shuffles away from you and is about to step of the couch he feels a familiar touch around his wrist and he gapes down at you.

"wait," you mumble, finally looked up at him once the tears have stopped flowing. soonyoung stills for a moment, and he's not sure if he should take that as in invitation to move closer or just stay put, but then you're tugging him softly and he can't help but cave. "can y-you lay on top of me?" you ask timidly, and soonyoung gives you a weird look as if to ask, are you sure? "i, uh, i think it'd help me. please?"

that's all takes for him to drape his whole body over you, arms pressed against your side and hands stroke your shoulders. your bare chests are pressed against you and soonyoung swears your rapid heartbeats sync up on the spot as you breaths start to relax.

when all finally feels calm, soonyoung takes a moment to finally ask you the question that's been bothering him this whole time. lifting his head, he finds you looking right back at him. "are you okay? what went wrong?"

"i—yes, i'm okay."

"a-are you sure? you can tell me anything you know—i won't judge, i won't care—i mean obviously i'll care but you know what i mean and—" he starts to ramble, and your lips almost twitch up into a smile, "—and i'm sorry this isn't about me but i'm worried i did something and might have majorly fucked things up and—"

"soonyoung," you say, voice all breathy and light. "slow down, i'm okay."

"are you?" he asks, and his voice is so shaky you frown.

"yes, i promise. i'm, well, i think i just got overwhelmed. it was a lot and happened really quickly and it was a bit more intense than i'm used to," you admit. "not that i didn't like it ... i just wasn't expecting it."

soonyoung watches you carefully as you speak, sitting up and pulling you up in the process too. "i'm sorry—i didn't realize," he confesses. "i was—" he inhales sharply wondering if he should admit his jealousy, "— a bit lost in my own head. i shouldn't have taken it out on you like that. do you want me to get you water?"

you nod and he stands up, heading to the kitchen to grab you a glass. when he sits back down, next to you, soonyoung is relieved when you curl up by his side, gulping down the drink before questioning him. "um, can i ask what you mean by, uh, lost in your head? wait actually—before you answer that—" you pause, "—do you really think i'm a slut?"

soonyoung's eyes widen. "no—fuck, god no. i just—you know, we usually—you know—degrade. if you don't like it i'll stop and—"

"no no, soonyoung, like, i meant outside of sex. do you think i was—i dunno—messing around with dongwoo?"

dongwoo? "no—i don't think you're a slut for that. shit, i'm sorry—i don't even know what the fuck got into me. i just—i don't even know. okay fuck. fuck. okay. i was jealous."

"of dongwoo? we didn't even fu—"

"i know. i know—it shouldn't even matter because we're not exclusively fucking or whatever but i got jealous okay? i don't know—i fucking love you so i saw him with his stupid hand around you and i wanted to punch him in the fuckin' face."

your eyes snap wide at that. "what? you—fuck—what?"

soonyoung hardly even realizes he's confessed until you're looking up at him with those wide eyes and he wonders how he's managed to dig himself deeper into this hole. shit, there's really no getting out of this now. he might as well crawl down further and sit there for the rest of his life and—

"i, uh—i didn't know you felt the same way."

"what? what do you mean the same way—"

"are you stupid, soonyoung?"

"um, kind of."

you laugh and kiss him hard for a second. suddenly you're pressing his shoulders and swinging a leg over his thighs so you can straddle his laps.

"wait hold on," he murmurs, but continues to wrap his arms around your waist as you lift your hips to align yourself over his still hard cock. "a-are you sure? are you okay?"

"yeah," you mutter, kissing him again as you wrap your arms around his neck. "can we take it a little easier from here though?"

soonyoung doesn't hesitate to say, "yes, of course—" but the last word gets cut off by a hitch of his breath when you sink down on him, the two of you moaning in unison at the feeling. his hands are gripping your waist and holding you down as he relaxes, leaning back into the seat as he casually says, "i am never calling you a slut again. or anything degrading for that matter." it's half a joke, half not, and you can tell he's still on edge.

"i like it," you admit as you adjust yourself on his lap, not really moving yet though. "just—i was a bit worried today. i thought you— i dunno. didn't know you liked me too and i didn't know what to think."

soonyoung furrows his brows but can't find the right words to say, so he kisses you instead, pulling you up so his cock drags out of halfway before gently letting you fall back down, tip hitting your walls slowly but deep.

"fuck," you moan into his mouth, holding his head closer to yours. absentmindedly, you lift your hips up again and then grind down methodically, causing both of you to break away from the kiss and look down at the sloppy wet mess where you connect.

and as you both get lost in the moment, fingers grappling at each other's burning skin, letting your bodies melt together, it dawns on you that you and soonyoung have fucked a countless amount of times but this is the first (of many) that you two have made love.

it's an entirely new experience, dreamy eyes and wet, passionate kisses with whispers of love confessions under your breaths and the smooth and damn good thrusts that slowly but surely bring you to the edge.

"feels so good," soonyoung moans, thrusting up into you gently to meet your bounces as you steady him with your arms around his shoulders.

"g'na cum, soonyoungie?" you try to coo, but it comes out as a whimper of your own as you feel that knot in your belly threaten to snap. and when he's nodding into your neck and sucking on the skin, you both fall apart in each other's arms.

cries and grunts mix together in a beautiful song and when you and soonyoung look at each other, sweating, flushed, teary eyed, and so fucking in love, you know that whatever happens with the two of you after this, it will work.

a/n. hope u enjoyed it!

tags. @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji (strikethrough could not be tagged)

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slut4thebroken · 2 months

Text

Home Improvements

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Emmett x wife!reader

Summary | Emmett does yard work while you’re outside tanning and you (both) get a little needy.

Warnings | Smut, semi public sex, humiliation, exhibitionism, a lil degradation, breeding, slight age gap, they’re so cute it kinda makes me sick lol.

Words | 1.8 k

Notes | I’ve been wanting to write some consensual Emmett stuff for a while so thank you to the anon who sent an ask to @kiss-me-cill-me who ended up tagging me🤭

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

More of these two

(Ignore the fact that idk how lawn mowers work lmaooo)

You were laying down on a lawn chair in your favorite bikini, sunglasses on and book in hand, but you weren’t reading anymore. You were completely focused on Emmett. The top two buttons of his shirt were left open and his already short sleeves were rolled up a little, showing even more of his muscles and tattoo in a way that made your mouth water.

When you noticed he was standing still, you forced yourself to pay attention and realized he was looking at you. “What?” You called out. The engine of the lawn mower was still on, but it was quieter now that he wasn’t moving it.

“I asked if it’s too loud.” Your heart fluttered a little— he’s always so considerate.

“No it’s okay. Thank you for checking though.” You were out here first so of course he wanted to make sure he wasn’t disturbing your tanning/reading time.

You continued watching him. Occasionally he’d stop and remove his hat to wipe the sweat from his forehead, but he was getting through it pretty quickly, much to your displeasure.

“Hey, Emmett?” You yelled, hoping he heard you with how far he was. He paused, turning toward you, and when you waved him over, he obeyed instantly.

“Yeah?”

“Aren't you kind of hot? It’s like 80 degrees out today.” You said casually, confusing him.

“A little, I guess.” He shrugged.

“Maybe you should take your shirt off. Feeling the breeze really helps.” You suggested, glancing down at your mostly nude body to show that you weren’t completely bullshitting that excuse. He chuckled quietly and shook his head a little, looking away from you with a small smile.

“Sure, baby.” You knew that he knew exactly what you were doing, but you didn’t care. You got what you wanted and that’s all that matters. He started unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, then tossed it onto the second lawn chair. Since he already knew, you decided to close your book and put it on the small table in between both chairs.

“You know, it also might help if you work a little slower too. Going fast means using more effort, and that means getting hotter quicker.” You knew it was grasping at straws and completely cheesy, but he scoffed a laugh and played along.

“Good point. Any other suggestions?”

“None that don’t involve public indecency.” You said teasingly and he chuckled again before walking back over to the lawn mower to continue. You could see now that his torso was glistening with a light sheen of sweat, only getting you more worked up.

There was something so incredibly hot about watching your husband do completely mundane, domestic tasks like mowing the lawn and barbecuing. He also had a really bad habit of doing home self improvements… so at any given time, there was at least one part of the house that was unfinished. The plus side to his love of home diy’s was that he’d build you things for the house, like extra storage in a weird space where nothing could really fit, or a new table after you accidentally spilled paint all over it and couldn’t get it off.

You frowned when he turned the lawn mower off and started walking over to you. “It looks amazing, honey.” You smiled, shamelessly eyeing his body as he sat down on the chair next to yours. You offered him your glass of ice water which he took eagerly, gulping down more than half of it in one go. “You know, I think you deserve a reward for doing such a good job.” Honestly, it was more a reward for you being able to sit here for half an hour without jumping his bones.

“You hate when I’m all sweaty.” You could tell that he wanted whatever you were offering though.

“Yeah… but that just gives us an excuse to have round two in the shower.” You smirked and his lips curled up into a small smile.

“Come here.” He said as he laid back in the lawn chair, letting you climb onto his lap. His hands settled on your hips as you took off your glasses and his hat before finally kissing him. Your arms draped over his shoulders, letting you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. When he pulled back, you whined quietly. “I don’t think I can do yard work while you’re tanning anymore. I’ve been hard since I walked out here.” You choked out a laugh, then started grinding on his bulge, making his breath catch in his throat.

“I agree. I’ve been wet since you started mowing.” You leaned down to kiss him again, still grinding your hips, and his hands dragged up your sides to cup your breasts, making you moan quietly. When he pulled your bikini down to rest below them, you let out a gasp that turned into a mewl when he leaned forward and sucked your nipple into his mouth. “Fuck- Emmett…” You said through a breath, tightening your grip on his hair. “People might see.” Even though you were in the backyard that had a wood fence all the way around the perimeter, there was still a chance.

“Thought you said I deserve a reward.” He grumbled, moving to your other nipple to suck and nip at it teasingly. “And I want to fuck my wife on my own property. I don’t give a shit if someone sees.” You knew that wasn’t true. You’d have to stop him from commiting a felony if someone accidentally saw your body because of how jealous and possessive he could be.

“I’m gonna be pissed if we get in trouble with the HOA.” A few years ago, you never would’ve imagined that you’d be married, living in a suburban house, worried about the HOA. Despite your words, you started snaking your hands down his chest and stomach to his belt. You managed to unbuckle it, even with how close your bodies were, then you opened his pants and took out his cock, stroking him to full hardness.

“Fuck.” He hissed, kissing up your chest to your neck, then sucking the skin into his mouth to leave a mark. “Need you, doll.” He whispered, hips bucking up toward your hand, desperately seeking out your tight, warm cunt. Since you were just as desperate, you quickly pulled your bikini bottoms to the side and sunk down on his cock, making both of you moan. You sat down on him completely, then paused, needing to let yourself adjust.

When his hands snaked around to your back and tugged on the string of your bikini, you gasped and tried to keep the fabric from moving away— at least with it below your breasts, you could quickly cover yourself if needed. Emmett didn’t seem to care about that though as he pulled it over your head then threw it somewhere to the side.

“Fuck..” You said through a breath. The risk was making you infinitely needier and as you continued to get more turned on, you started to care less about someone possibly seeing.

“Come on, baby. Give me my reward.” He gruffed. As if your body was completely under his command, you started rocking your hips, warming yourself up a little. You cried out when he suddenly slapped your ass. “You know what I want.” His voice was much harsher now, making it clear that this was a demand, not a request. So you started bouncing up and down on his lap, forcing moans out of both of you. “That’s it… Be a good little wife and use that greedy cunt to please my cock.” He groaned, slapping your ass again before moving his hands up to grope your tits. You were starting to sweat now as you panted, quickly heating up from the exertion.

Getting bolder, he suddenly reached for the strings on both hips, then quickly pulled to untie them. “Emmett..” You warned— being completely nude was way too risky.

“We can move this to the front yard if you’d prefer.” He threatened, making you falter. When you gave up on trying to stop him, he smirked and removed the fabric, leaving you fully bare. “What would people say, honey?” He murmured mockingly. “If they knew that you liked riding me in public, in broad daylight, without wearing any clothes.”

“Emmett…” You whined, his words making you needier.

“Oh, I know, baby… I know.” He cooed, brushing your hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek. “You can’t help being a whore, but it’s okay because you’re my whore. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” You mewled, desperately moving your hips, chasing your release.

“Say it.” His hands settled on your hips and he held you still, then started bucking up into you.

“I’m your whore, Emmett.” You whined with a blush. He moved one hand to smack your ass as a warning, then immediately put it back on your hip. “I’m your whore!” You cried out, much louder this time. “Fuck— please make me come.”

“Wait just a little longer, doll, I’m almost there.” He said breathily, tightening his grip on your hips almost painfully and bucking up into you so fast, you had to bite your lip to keep from screaming. Your breasts were moving embarrassingly with how hard he was pounding you, only furthering your humiliation… which only brought you closer to the edge.

“Emmett.. please, I can’t hold it.” You whimpered, clinging to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself.

“Go ahead, sweet girl…” He said through a breath. “Come for me.” You reached down to rub your clit and when your orgasm crashed over you, Emmett quickly lifted a hand to cover your mouth, muffling what would’ve been a mix of a scream and a moan. You stared down at him with furrowed brows as your body trembled with each wave of pleasure that rolled through you.

He cursed under his breath when your orgasm made your cunt squeeze his cock almost too tight, sending him over the edge as well. You only had to endure the overstimulation for a few seconds while he continued bucking up into you, riding it out. His grunts and breathy moans were creating a new pool of arousal in your stomach, but he was done before he could get you worked up all over again.

When he relaxed his grip, you accidentally sunk down all the way, making you both wince from the sensitivity. You were still panting and Emmett was in a similar state, but he snaked his hand around to the back of your neck and pulled you down into a kiss anyway. It was short, but still deep and passionate, leaving you even more breathless.

“I’m going to look into building higher walls for the fence so you can start tanning naked.” His lips were curled up into a poorly concealed smirk. “Just so you don’t get tan lines, obviously...” He said coyly, making you laugh.

I think I want to write more for them cause I really like their dynamic so send me some ideas <3

#emmett smut #emmett a quiet place #emmett x you #emmett x reader smut #emmett x reader #cillian murphy #Emmett x wife!reader

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dearhargrove · 2 months

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Hi there! I have an eddie diaz request please. I don't know if you've seen the boyfriend door lean on tiktok but I was thinking eddie either comes across it and tries it on reader to see if it works (reader is a bookworm) or he does it without knowing what it is and reader melts (in either scenario) and she explains and shows it to him and he says he'll have to do it more often? All cute fluffy and adorable if you can please. Thank you!!

summary Eddie finds out about the 'door frame lean' thing on tiktok and tries it on you.

word count 950

tags fluffy and a bit spicy, Chris!!, Eddie's a menace

a/n hope I did this request justice because I absolutely adore that idea! Need someone to do this for me? Also Eddie would most definitely do this at any chance after realising how it had you going crazy 😭 I used this tiktok as a reference by the way!

masterlist

You're sitting up against the headboard with your book in your hands and a glass of wine on the nightstand next to you, simply passing time until your boyfriend comes home from his 24 hour shift.

You're almost done with it when you hear the front door open and close, a bag being dropped on the floor and shoes messily discarded next to the shoe rack (it seems no matter how many times you get mad at him for not putting his shoes away he forgets it and repeats the same mistake).

Moments later you see him walk along the hallway to your shared bedroom. His hair is messy instead of combed back like it was this morning when he'd made sure to ask you if it looked good, and the exhaustion is clear on his face.

You close your book after putting the bookmark between the pages you were reading and look at him with a smile that he easily reciprocates.

“Rough shift?” you move off the bed and walk to lean against the door frame as he approaches. “Yeah. People are stupid,” you chuckle and he stops in front of you, reaching his left hand up and placing it on the door frame and easily leaning his head down to look at you.

You're entirely caught off guard, not sure whether to look into his eyes or focus on the fact that this position was very flattering on his biceps. You swallow nervously which he catches and tilts his head with a small smirk.

“What? Why do you look nervous, amor?” He asks huskily and puts his other hand on your waist. That's just about your last straw and you fluster and look away, “Uh, no, just- how was your shift?”

He laughs and lets go of the door frame to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you closer until he can reach your neck and bury his face in it. You're pretty sure he can feel your pulse being abnormally high from where he'd placed his head, so in hopes of not making him aware of how crazy this entire situation had you going you bury your hands in his hair and gently scratch his scalp. Something you knew would make him melt any time you did it.

He grunts and his arms tighten around your waist, fingers pressing into the middle of your lower back. “Fuck,” he mumbles, “That feels good.”

Your whole ruse to distract him backfired because he just kept getting more sexy and you're pretty sure he either knew exactly what he was doing or was totally unaware of the effect this whole interaction was having on you.

“Dad, you're home!” Chris distracts both of you and Eddie kisses your pulse point and squeezes your waist again before crouching down to lift Chris into his arms and hug him tight. “Hey, buddy. Aren't you supposed to be asleep? It's almost nine thirty.”

You watch them and take the moment to gather your wits again because, oh my god. You'll never be able to read about the door frame lean in a book again without thinking about this.

Later that night when you're both in bed, his head placed on your chest as he patiently waits for you to finish reading the chapter so you could play with his hair, he looks up at you, “I didn't actually believe that door frame thing would work.”

Your jaw drops and you look at him with furrowed brows, “What do you mean?”

“That.. what's it called? Booktok. Buck was talking about it because he thought it was funny and mentioned how I should know what that is since you read so much. I didn't so I looked it up. Who knew you'd fold so easily?” He teases and you glare at him in slight embarrassment and take your hand from his hair.

“Stop teasing me about it.” He laughs and shakes his head, “Never. You looked way too cute, though I almost got worried with how high your pulse was getting…”

You gasp and flick his forehead with your index finger, about to throw some insult at him when the door opens and Christopher stands in the doorway.

Eddie sits up and you put your book on the nightstand, “Chris? Everything okay, love?” You ask and he pouts. “Nightmare. Can I sleep here tonight?”

You look at Eddie with a worried expression and he slightly shrugs but scoots to the side to make space for the ten year old. He crawls into the middle of you and you pull the blanket up to his shoulders. He looks at you with big eyes and you smile, knowing what he wanted, before carding your hand through his hair. He hums happily and Eddie looks at you slightly offended, “He's stealing your attention.”

You snort and roll your eyes, “You can wait until he's asleep.” Chris grins happily at his father and then at you. “I'm cuter anyway,” Eddie gasps and you laugh as the two banter.

One look at the clock though and you're shushing them both with a forehead kiss, “Alright now, time to sleep.” Eddie looks happy with himself, taking that as him getting all your attention now and you raise one eyebrow, “You too.”

Chris giggles and then settles down, same as Eddie after he scowls at you. You click off the small lamp on your nightstand and see Chris already snoozing with Eddie watching him fondly.

Placing your hand in Eddie's hair instead you whisper ‘I love you’ which he repeats and puts his arm over Chris to put his hand on your hip, falling asleep not long after.

#eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz fanfic #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz 911 #eddie diaz #ryan guzman x reader #ryan guzman #that door lean thing has me feral ngl

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retrievablememories · 7 months

Text

cherry bomb | part 2 | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: after your town goes into lockdown because of the cherry bomb massacre, you find out that the murderer's interest is on you. eventually, you’re left with no choice but to face him.

genre: horror/slasher, angst, smut, college!au

word count: 13.7k

warnings: major character deaths, gaslighting, hallucinations, anxiety/paranoia, grief, trauma, violence (including knife and gun use), torture, blood, gore, descriptions of dead bodies, a funeral scene, fuckboy!JK, oral (fem receiving), fingering, finger-sucking, handjob, cumplay(?), hair-pulling

a/n: this part is quite rougher than the first, so heed the warnings. same notes as the last part—not meant to be entirely realistic since this *is* a slasher. block/filter as needed. i didn’t mention this in part 1 but this fic is not set in present day; more like somewhere in the 2000s? i don’t think this fic would work as well with all this advanced technology/the prevalence of social media now

...also, i had this story all written out and then decided to completely change the plot at the last minute because i figured out a way to write the original plot i had wanted to do from the beginning. 💀 yeah…just leave your thoughts below

taglist is at the very bottom of the fic—for some reason i wasn't able to tag everyone who requested, so please reblog this fic so folks can see it

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 1

you’re standing in front of some stranger’s house in the early hours of the morning, your body heavy from exhaustion as your adrenaline has run out. this is not at all how you expected your night to end when you left your dorm hours ago. it must’ve taken at least 40 minutes to get to this house, and you’re less familiar with this part of town, which you try not to feel uneasy about. you suppose the farther away from the scene of the carnage, the better.

jungkook bangs on the door, calling out the name yoongi-hyung until the porch light comes on. though it’s illogical, you’re tense with apprehension that the murderer could somehow appear at any moment, and you hope whoever yoongi is lets the both of you in soon. so much for no longer looking over your shoulder.

a man with hair just as long as jungkook’s answers the door, looking disheveled and annoyed. “why the fuck are you banging down my door at nearly 2 am—"

yoongi stops speaking as he eyes the both of you up and down, his gaze going from the bite mark bruises you left on jungkook’s neck to the dried blood on your face to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. his expression is between surprise and curiosity. “what the fuck is going on here?”

“can we talk inside?” jungkook says, though he doesn’t wait for an invitation before pushing his way past the other man and stepping inside.

“uh…hi. sorry.” you step inside too, glad to not be out in the open anymore.

yoongi takes another look outside the door at the state of jungkook’s car before closing and locking it. “mind explaining this shit? i thought you were going to that party you told me about?

“i did,” jungkook says, his voice full of frustration. “the fucking killer showed up at the party.”

“the fuck are you talking about?”

“you know what i’m talking about. that werewolf-masked freak? he came and just started stabbing people to death. we watched him shoot a fraternity member in front of us, dude. that’s why my car looks the way it does.”

“the campus is probably dangerous,” you add. “that’s why we came here. we just need somewhere safe to stay for the night.”

yoongi goes to the window and draws back the curtain. he peeks out the small holes in the side of the blinds rather than pushing the blinds down to look outside. “and you’re certain he didn’t follow you here? i thought he only killed virgins anyway. why the hell was he shooting at you?” then yoongi turns away from the window and looks at you. “oh. is this why?”

feeling put on the spot, you blurt out: “look, i don’t think that matters much anymore. he seemed to be killing anybody who was in his way.”

“and he was on foot the whole time, so there’s no way he could’ve followed us,” jungkook adds.

yoongi shakes his head and walks away from the window. “whole town is fucked, then. come on.”

you’re relieved to be able to scrub the blood off your face and change into fresh clothes. you initially thought it was peculiar that yoongi had spare clothes ready for you to wear until he alluded to keeping them on hand for any of jungkook’s hookups that he brings over.

“sure—of course.” you’d just nodded and tried not to look embarrassed as you accepted the clothes.

even after showering you don’t feel entirely clean, though. you think it might be impossible to return to feeling anything like your former self after tonight.

the couch has a pull-out bed, so it’s not as uncomfortable as it would be just sleeping on a regular sofa, which you are grateful for. you’re still arranging the pillow and blankets when jungkook walks into the room holding his own bedding.

“i think i should sleep here,” he says.

“there’s no room on the couch for the both of us,” you protest, thinking he means to take your spot.

“i mean on the floor. earlier, you didn’t seem like you wanted to be left alone in here.”

“oh.” you try to take the edge out of your voice; it’s hard to be polite when you’re still so overwhelmed with stress. “that’ll be uncomfortable though.”

jungkook just waves his hand and dumps his pillow and blanket on the floor before going to push the coffee table out of the way. “doesn’t really matter, i think we’ve been through worse tonight than sleeping on a hard floor…”

“thanks,” you say quietly, watching him spread his blanket out on the ground. you want to say something else, but you can’t think of anything.

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

after a few more moments of staring at jungkook as he arranges his sleeping area, you finally ask, “i was wondering how’d you meet yoongi? he doesn’t seem like he’s a college student. i’ve never seen him around our campus, at least.”

“he isn’t. he works as a music producer, so he’s out of town a lot, but this is his homebase. as for how we met—it’s a long story. he and my brother actually used to know each other, so…” you think he’ll explain further, but he just shakes his head. “but he’s a good friend.”

“i see. a music producer…nice. how cool for a little town like this.”

after everything is to his liking, jungkook gets under the blanket. “tonight was a lot, so try to get some sleep.”

you nod and turn the lamp off, though you’re doubting you’ll get any peace tonight. “yeah…you too.”

SATURDAY MORNING, NOV 4

you wake up around 11 a.m. on a strange couch wearing strange clothes in a strange room. with your brain’s half-conscious state, your terror reawakens; you think maybe you’ve been kidnapped by the murderer and the car ride with jungkook last night was a dream—until yoongi pops into your mind.

you try to regulate your breathing and settle back beneath the blanket, though you know you won’t be going back to sleep.

you haven’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in total, broken up into 20-minute intervals across the hours. every time you’ve tried to close your eyes and drift off, you see the frat member’s skull bursting apart again, shocking your entire nervous system. you can think of nothing but the piles of bodies and the deaths you witnessed. perhaps it’s better that you don’t sleep; you figure your dreams wouldn’t be any more tolerable than your thoughts.

as you shift around on the couch, your whole body screams with soreness. your arms, your ribs, your sides, your legs, and—to a lesser extent—even between your thighs where jungkook was last night.

you glance over and see that he’s still sprawled on the floor, blanket halfway kicked off. he’s actually awake, his face turned away from you as he blinks slowly and stares at nothing, but he doesn’t say anything and so neither do you. with you spending most of your night awake, you saw that he was able to get more rest than you did. lucky him.

it hurts to move, but you reach for your phone and check for any signs of lorelai. none. there is one text from camille, sent 40 minutes ago.

➤ camille: I talked to Lorelai’s sister. She went to go see about a missing persons report. The police took her information but didn’t seem very concerned about it and said she might have just stayed the night with other friends after the party. Apparently a lot of others had the same idea as you. Campus is a ghost town. They’re still identifying all the bodies, so no word yet.

➤ y/n: so we just have to sit here and wait to see if she’ll turn up alive or dead? that’s useless.

➤ camille: As per fucking usual with the pigs.

➤ camille: She also told me there’s supposed to be a lockdown or something. It’s on the news.

➤ y/n: a lockdown???

looking around the room, you spot the TV remote sitting on yoongi’s coffee table a few feet away. you try to sit up, but it takes you a couple minutes longer than you anticipate because of the pain. jungkook notices the movement from the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. “what are you doing?”

“tryna get the remote.”

jungkook grabs it and hands it to you, and you turn the TV to one of the local news channels.

➤ camille: They’re telling people not to leave their homes for anything non-essential while they search for him. Not sure how long that’s supposed to last. I guess now they wanna get serious about this fucking killer? Too late for that.

you and jungkook watch as the newscaster gives a rundown of last night’s events; to your small relief, it looks like the killer didn’t try to go to the campus after the murders at the party house. the newscaster goes on to announce that the police are instating a citywide curfew, which they’ll discuss further at a press conference in the afternoon. in the meantime, they advise everyone to only travel in groups, shelter in place if possible, and keep all windows and doors locked.

you laugh humorlessly, and jungkook glances at you again. “in groups? we were all packed into one damn house at the party, and how much did that help?”

➤ y/n: are you sure you’re okay at the uni?

➤ camille: I’m fine. My roommate brought some of her friends into our room so no one’s left alone. Either way, my dad is coming to help me move some of my things out and come back home.

➤ y/n: okay, please just stay safe.

➤ camille: You too.

“what now?” jungkook says once the newscast goes off. “everybody just stays holed up for like a month while they hunt for that guy?”

you roll your eyes. “people won’t stay in their homes for that long. i don’t know how any of this is gonna work. we wouldn’t be in this mess now if they’d cared when this first started happening.”

“you think so? students would still be getting killed. the only difference is that a good chunk of people would just be sitting at home freaking the fuck out and too scared to go anywhere while the killer would still be on the loose.”

“…damn. it’s truly bleak to assume we’d still be in the same situation. you’re an optimistic one.”

“better than deluding yourself about it.”

“whatever. where’s your family to freak out over you? somebody should be concerned about your whereabouts by now. didn’t you say you have a brother? speaking of, i’m gonna have to call my sister soon…”

jungkook turns back to the TV, and you can tell he’s become more tense than he was seconds ago. “yeah, but i’m estranged from them. yoongi’s my family.”

wrong thing to ask. you wonder about the reason for it but decide it’s probably better not to pry. “ah…that sucks.”

jungkook looks back at you like he’s irked by that response, but he makes a noise resembling a chuckle. “tell me about it.”

later that afternoon, after you’ve reassured your sister veronica on her work break that you are fine and at a “friend’s” house (because you have no clue how to refer to either of these men), you and yoongi sit at the kitchen table with brunch while jungkook goes outside to examine the damage to his car more closely.

it’s difficult to eat, but you do so anyway; you don’t want to be rude by wasting the food yoongi made. the news station still plays loudly from the living room as you wait for the press conference to come on.

“so, about you and jungkook...” yoongi starts, looking at you from over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“what about me and jungkook?”

“we both know he didn’t get those bites on his neck from a wild animal attack.”

you sit up straighter in your seat, a sudden spike of irritation hitting you. “aren’t we all grown here? who cares?” you try to sound unbothered despite feeling very green about all of this. after all, you’d only had sex for the first time last night.

“look, i don’t care. fuck him all you want. i’m just trying to advise you not to get emotionally involved, because that’s not how jungkook operates. the amount of girls i’ve had somehow coming after my neck when their situationship with him doesn’t work out is starting to get really old. it’d be best if you didn’t do the same.”

you’re simultaneously annoyed at his assumption of you and flustered because you want to prove him wrong about acting the same as the other girls. you hate both feelings. “i don’t want anything like that with him. i just needed something done and i got it. it doesn’t matter anymore.”

yoongi shrugs, and you get the sense he’s heard that before and isn’t convinced, but you can’t be bothered going back and forth with him about this.

the press conference comes on TV a few minutes later. they announce that classes at your university are cancelled indefinitely; parents and relatives will need to come move their students out, and the school will be operating with a skeleton staff and increased security presence for any students who can’t leave the campus. the citywide curfew will be at 8 p.m. every night, by which time almost everyone will need to be in their homes, and it will end at 6 a.m each morning.

“fun,” you say sarcastically. “at least i won’t have to worry about finals and trying not to get murdered at the same time.”

when jungkook comes back inside, you let him know about what he missed from the press conference.

“we should just stay here for now.” when you raise your eyebrows, jungkook says, “i basically live here when i’m not on campus for classes. plus yoongi-hyung lets me bring girls here all the time, this is nothing new.”

“if both of you are gonna be hiding out in my place, we’ll need to go to the store,” yoongi says. “more mouths to feed.”

“…or i could just go home?” you propose, your mind reeling at them already making plans. you feel awkward about staying in a stranger’s house for who knows how long. “i think we only really needed to stay here for the night. it’s fine.”

“will you have people there with you?” jungkook asks. “it’s not safe to be alone.”

you’re surprised he seems to be this concerned, but you answer: “well, i mean…my sister works 12-hour shifts as a nurse and she’s the only one living there, so…” you’d chosen your university because your older sister lived in the area, and because it was a tradition for women in your family to attend that school, but there were no other relatives you could turn to. your parents lived a couple of towns away.

yoongi comes to the conclusion so you don’t have to. “in other words, you’ll be alone most of the day.”

“…i guess. but i’m really not tryna impose on you by staying here.”

yoongi tilts his head, a small smirk on his lips. you automatically dislike the look on his face. “why don’t you take jungkook with you, then?”

you and jungkook glance at each other. “but, hyung…”

yoongi shakes his head. “you already know i can take care of myself. seriously, don’t worry about it.” and then yoongi winks at you. you don’t know for sure, but you take that to mean he’s probably packing heat like camille’s dad.

“if you’re sure.” turning to you, jungkook says, “so, how about it?”

“it’s my sister’s house, so i’ll have to ask her,” you say tentatively. “yeah…uh. let me do that now, i guess.” you pull out your phone to text her about it, though you know it’ll be a while before she gets another work break and can answer. “in the meantime…i think we’ll need to go to the store either way. and then to campus to pick our things up.”

“you’re right. let’s go then,” jungkook says.

the store is full of people panic-buying food and necessities in preparation for the curfew and effective lockdown, which you expected. you and jungkook end up going your separate ways to find the things you need because it’s quicker that way, and because you want to get in and out of the store as soon as possible. the crowdedness is too much like the party, and despite yourself, anxiety begins rising in you due to the claustrophobic atmosphere. you try to maintain even breaths as you keep searching for items. just what you need—a shiny new trauma to make your life harder.

you pass by a man in one of the less-crowded aisles before realizing he’s standing in front of what you need to get, examining one of the food packages. you wait a few moments to see if he’ll finish up soon, and when your eyes begin to wander, you see that there’s a long gray hair clinging to the back of his leather jacket, standing out clearly against the black. you probably wouldn’t have noticed this at all on any other day, except your mind has been on high alert for hours now; you find it strange that this strand clearly doesn’t match the shade or length of the hair on his head, which is short and plain brown. the shade of the hair also weirdly reminds you of something, though you can’t quite recall what; it remains just out of your mind’s reach.

you shake your head. he could’ve come to the store with somebody who has long gray hair, or hugged them before he left home, and a strand stuck to his jacket. it’s the least of your issues right now.

the man must feel your presence behind him because he turns around to look at you. you’re a little taken aback by his gaze; his expression isn’t mean per se, but very intense, as if his entire focus is trained on you.

there’s a second’s pause, like he’s thinking about something before he speaks. “am i in your way?” he asks, never breaking eye contact. his voice doesn’t portray any particular emotion.

“i just have to get something really quick.” he steps aside and gestures to the rows of food without a word. you slip in beside him and grab what you need before moving away again. “thanks.” you think about telling him about the hair on his jacket but decide against it; your decision is solidified when you spot a wolf figurine keychain on his keys, faded from time but still distinguishable. it makes your breath catch.

there’s no way it could be him. it was kind of dark in the party house with nothing but string lights and lamps illuminating it, and everything happened so quickly…but you do remember the colors of that mask. red, yellow, black—and that dark gray for the fur.

but maybe it’s really all just a coincidence; how much sense would it make to turn every person with wolf paraphernalia and random stray hairs into a suspect?

you walk down the rest of the aisle and away from the man with growing unease. maybe it’s time to find jungkook so you can get out of here; you can hardly keep yourself together, and despite your best attempts at logic, you can’t stop yourself from getting more frantic about those two things.

speeding up your walk and weaving through people, you look down every aisle in search for jungkook before you find him, rushing over to him as you breathe heavily.

“whoa, what the hell is wrong? did somebody do something?”

“no, i…”

“what happened?”

“it’s the…well, the…i saw, uh…”

“y/n.”

“i saw—the mask. the fur from the mask. do you remember it?”

“…you mean that stupid ass werewolf mask?” you gesture for jungkook to lower his voice. “wait, you’re saying you saw it in here?”

“no, i saw a man who had a strand of hair on his jacket…” it starts sounding ridiculous to your own ears the more you speak, but you continue. “the strand—it was the same color as that fur. the same length! and he—he had some weird wolf keychain…”

jungkook stares at you for a long moment before sighing. “you’re not serious? a random strand of hair that could be from anybody or anything? that could be from someone’s fucking grandma for all we know. plus a keychain…maybe he just likes wolves, y/n.”

you already know that saying i just feel like something is off won’t be enough to convince him. you sigh with a deep sense of defeat, considering that he’s probably right. maybe your initial assumption was the more sensible answer. “…right. i think i’m just really fucked up right now after everything that happened. can we finish up here?”

“yeah, we will. because you definitely need to lay down soon or something. you haven’t had any sleep all night, right?” the way jungkook eyes you with concern as if you’ve lost your mind annoys you. you’re about to give a smart remark when you notice something in the carrying-basket he has.

“…a baseball bat?”

“if the killer comes after us again, duh. we’ll be prepared this time. or at least i will.”

“good luck with that if he happens to have another gun.” rolling your eyes, you brush past jungkook to go to one of the checkout counters.

in the parking lot, you see that the man from earlier has also come out and is putting the last of his grocery bags into his car trunk. there’s really nothing spectacular about his appearance that would make him stand out in a crowd, with his average height and average looks, let alone incriminate him as a serial killer. yet that familiar unease won’t leave.

he sees you and jungkook walking towards the car together, and his eyes dart to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. then he makes eye contact with you. you give a half-hearted wave, unsure what else to do with his eyes stuck on you. for a moment, his lips turn up into the faintest smile before he shakes his head and gets into his own car.

MONDAY, NOV 6

you’ve spent half of saturday and all of sunday trying to get used to living in your sister’s house with jungkook. veronica had been surprisingly okay with having him stay over, though most of it was her being relieved you finally found “a potential boyfriend who’s actually cute.” you didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

you’ve also been constantly checking on camille (to her eventual annoyance) and seeing if there are any more updates on lorelai. still nothing. your dread grows the further away you get from that bloody friday, but you try to keep your thoughts from straying too darkly.

right now, you, veronica, and jungkook all sit on the couch together in a neat little row, a bowl of popcorn in front of you on the coffee table and some science-fiction B-movie playing on the TV. your sister proposed the idea to distract yourselves from everything going on, but so far, you feel like it isn’t very effective. at least not for you. your mind keeps wandering to other things every 5 minutes.

eventually, veronica yawns widely, stretching her arms and legs before rising off the couch. “okay, i’m getting tired as fuck. i need to go to sleep for work tomorrow anyway. you guys enjoy the rest of the movie, okay?” she pats your shoulder as she passes by you on her way out of the room.

jungkook waves. “oh, sure. goodnight.”

“night, sis.”

when jungkook’s attention goes back to the movie, your sister makes eye contact with you and points her finger at you menacingly. you give her a shocked look while she mouths you know what i mean and swirls her finger in jungkook’s direction. embarrassed at the implication, you roll your eyes and turn your head back to the TV screen. having sex with jungkook on your sister’s couch is not high on your list of priorities tonight.

after your sister is gone, jungkook spreads out on the couch like it’s his own living room, placing his legs right over your lap. you sigh, looking over at him—and hoping that your eyes don’t linger too obviously on the expanse of thigh muscle that’s now on display from his shorts riding up higher.

“…really? i don’t want your big ole legs in my lap.”

jungkook just grins. “you should lay down too, it’s more comfortable this way.” you stare at him, and he tries to egg you on by pulling the sleeve of your shirt. “come on.”

“i’m not laying down on top of you, if that’s what you’re after.”

you do end up lying down, but on the opposite side of the couch so that your legs are tangled together, which really just increases the amount of contact between you either way—but whatever.

this makes jungkook laugh more. “ha, it’s like we’re scissoring.”

“so damn corny.”

you two continue watching the rest of the movie, but by the end of it you don’t remember half of what happened. taking the remote, you flip through the channels and try to find something else to look at. there isn’t much interesting to watch on a random monday night—which would be a school night anyway, if not for the current context.

as you search for a channel, jungkook asks: “what would you do if you found out who the killer was?”

you squint your eyes at his odd question. maybe the obvious answer would be to alert the police. but after days of having your anger stoked like a fire, that’s not exactly the answer you’d choose. “maybe i’d kill him.” the words leave your lips easily, and you hardly think twice about them once they’re out.

neither of you speak for a few long moments.

“does that scare you?” you ask, after the silence starts annoying you. you want to laugh, but there’s nothing really funny about the situation.

“…not really. angry women are kinda sexy. so are dangerous ones.”

you scoff. “i’m not tryna be sexy, you fool. and how many dangerous women have you dealt with? seems to me you only have a thing for the innocents.”

“it’s not like i only fuck virgins. you don’t even know me like that.” he nudges your leg with his foot like he’s also annoyed, but his expression doesn’t show any actual irritation.

“…if you want to go back and forth about it, go outside and argue with the wall or something. i’m in no mood, jungkook.” you shove his foot off of you. “just, holy shit. i wish i could have just one hour where i don’t have to think about any of this shit. my mind can’t even breathe.”

he’s actually quiet for a couple minutes after. you think he’s moved on from the conversation until he finally says, “i can give you an hour.”

your body becomes alert at that. the insinuation in his tone is obvious. you glance backwards as if your sister could hear you from upstairs, though you know that’s illogical. “i got what i wanted from you already,” you whisper.

“so? what if i wanted to give you more? you know you’re allowed to have sex with a person more than once, yeah?” he chuckles.

here he is making you this offer, and once again you feel like you’ve been reduced to the state of a confused lamb in front of a hungry wolf. you realize that the idea of letting yourself get more physically entangled with jungkook scares you. he is not someone you can turn into a boyfriend, who wants to be a boyfriend, and you are only looking to save yourself from any potential hurt. “it would just be sex—right? you have to know i’m not looking for anything deeper from you.”

jungkook smirks. like with yoongi, you don’t know if he believes you. “i know.”

you want to undo almost everything from the past few days. you can’t forget, but for a while, you want to just exist outside of the timeline where there’s a killer on the loose and one of your friends is missing. it’s too much to handle; your body is approaching its limits for the amount of stress it can take. you need a balm to numb the pain and the fear, and you dislike that you are giving into your base instincts to do so. you feel guilty, somehow. but pleasure is easy. at least it has been whenever you sought it on your own—and now you have someone else to give it to you. someone who is in front of you now, proposing it with all the willingness in the world. maybe there’s really nothing wrong with saying yes.

“jungkook…”

“hm?”

“please just shut the fuck up and don’t say another word about the outside world right now. i don’t want to think about anything but your…” you falter, still trying to get used to expressing what you want sexually.

jungkook sits up, his hands sliding up your legs and to your hips. “but my what?”

“um, your…” your thoughts end when he leans down and pulls the hem of your sweater up, planting a kiss on your waist where your skin meets the waistband of your sweatpants. one kiss turns into a second, and a third. the fourth becomes an open-mouthed embrace of his lips on your skin, and you make a small noise of pleasure when his tongue gets involved.

“careful. don’t want veronica to come down here, remember?”

you huff. “that isn’t happening any time soon, believe me.”

his kisses continue as he begins to slide your sweatpants down, revealing the waistband of your panties. once they’re fully on display, he leans forward to nuzzle his face between your thighs, his mouth and nose pressing into the seat of your underwear. his actions take you off guard. you actually give a brief chuckle from surprise, though you are also somewhat embarrassed. “now what the hell are you doing?”

“let me savor my meal before i eat it.” his warm breaths tickle your inner thighs as he speaks.

“ugh, don’t turn me off.”

“that’s funny, because i seem to have an easy time getting you wet.” to prove it, his fingers press into the seat of your underwear to feel the wetness that’s seeped into them; you sigh from the brief pleasure his fingers’ movements afford you before he pulls them away.

jungkook drags your panties down next, his lips trailing down your lower abdomen and across the curls of hair covering your pubic mound. your body fills with anticipation at the gradual pace of his actions and the purposeful, wet caresses of his mouth.

when he uses his thumbs to press your lower lips apart and expose you more fully to him, you have half a mind to be self-conscious about it until he places his mouth on you in earnest.

jungkook eats like someone who hasn’t done so in a while and doesn’t know when he’ll get to do it again. his mouth sucks at your clit like he’s desperate for you to come, tongue rolling over the swollen nub in an unrelenting pattern that has your stomach tensing, and you quickly realize you do have to try to silence yourself even if you know it won’t wake veronica up. you twist your hands into the sleeves of your sweater and lean your head back on the couch’s armrest as you arch your hips up closer to jungkook’s face, uncaring about how vulnerable you feel completely offering yourself up to him like this; right now, all you want is to feel good.

“gonna come quick again? maybe we can set a new record?” jungkook pins your knee against the couch with his elbow to keep your legs open as he slides two fingers inside, diving straight in instead of working you up this time. your body breaks out in a sweat and you know you really won’t last long once he does this, the tips of his fingers aiming for that dreadful, wonderful, and overpowering place inside you. you don’t know how people do this—you feel like you’re going to die when he stimulates that spot, and all you want to do is scream even though you can’t.

“a r-record? fuck off…” you choke out, though you begin to rock your hips into the rhythm of his fingers, needing so badly for him to take you over the edge again.

he chuckles. “i don’t think you want me to fuck off right now.”

you have no words for a good comeback when he buries his head between your legs and slurps at your pussy again and crooks his fingers repeatedly to where your orgasm is unexpectedly rushing down upon you, causing your body to tense as you gasp and stifle any sounds that escape with your sweater sleeve.

jungkook doesn’t stop there and you don’t really expect him to, because you’re beginning to learn he isn’t a one-and-done type of man. he keeps sucking and stroking you right into another releasewhile you push the beanie off his head, fist your fingers into his strands, and tremble over the sight of his pitch-black mess of hair between your thighs. something about the visual is so appealing to you.

after he has made you come for the third time, you watch him sit up on his knees to reach into his shorts and pull his dick out, his darkened tip slick with precum. his long hair falls into his face as he glances downward, using the hand he’d been fingering you with to lube himself up with your cum.

“come here,” you tell him, your voice coming out sharper than you intended; but he doesn’t care, because he follows your request without a word and presses himself into your side. the couch is just big enough to accommodate both of you in this position, but it’s still a tight fit, and your bodies are once again tangled together.

“let me touch you,” you say, your palm pressed to his stomach, feeling the firmness of the muscle.

he raises his eyebrows, like you didn’t even need to ask. “of course.”

“no, i mean…” he realizes what you actually mean as you brush his hand away from his shaft and wrap your fingers around it instead.

“should i teach you how?” jungkook brings his hand to overlap yours, though his breath becomes a bit strained when you slide your hand to the base of his cock and back to the tip again, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the sensitive head. seeing your fingers around him turns him on more than he thought it could, and it’s just a simple fucking handjob.

you roll your eyes. “stroking a dickshouldn’t be that hard.”

“everyone likes it differently, though. fast, slow, soft, or rough…just the tip, or the whole shaft.” you can’t deny that��or the way you find yourself throbbing at his words, his voice husky from the pleasure. which is why you let jungkook close his hand more fully around yours and guide your movements.

it’s captivating to observe his reactions from your hand on his skin—the heavy breaths he lets out and the soft moans and even softer whimpers that come in between the exhales. whenever you squeeze his shaft more firmly or rub your thumb against his leaking tip, you find yourself grinning at the rise and fall of his chest and the tongue that darts out of his mouth to lick at his lips. but mostly, your eyes are drawn back to the sight of your hand working him over, his thighs and stomach tensing sporadically.

eventually, you both look away from your joined hands and at each other’s faces. your eyes dart to his lips and back to his gaze again, and you shift your face forward to signal your desire for a kiss. he meets you there by pressing his lips to yours, and it isn’t hard for him to get lost in the meeting of your mouths and the heat from your palm on his shaft.

your free hand returns to his soft hair to tug on it as your tongues slide against each other. he grunts at the burn of his roots being pulled but doesn’t stop you; on the contrary, his body responds favorably as more precum swells from his tip and his nipples poke against the material of his shirt.

“do you like that, jungkook?” you mumble against his mouth.

“you know i do.” at some point, his hand falls away and he lets you stroke him on your own.

jungkook gives a shuddering moan into your mouth when he climaxes minutes later, thick streams of his cum shooting onto his shirt and dripping down your hand. he tries to keep quiet and doesn’t entirely succeed, but it doesn’t much matter.

you squeeze the few remaining drops of cum from his cockhead, trying to make sure you don’t grip hard enough to actually hurt him. you pull your sticky hand away from jungkook when you think he’s finally emptied, but he grabs your wrist and you look at him questioningly. you watch with shocked eyes as jungkook brings your hand up and takes your messy fingers into his mouth, sucking his cum from them. you know instinctively it isn’t the first time he’s done this—not with the look of pure satisfaction on his features as he licks his own seed off your fingers.

his enthusiastic pleasure is part of the reason why you accept when jungkook gives you a crushing kiss, passing his cum from his tongue to yours. you don’t know what you expected it to taste like, but it isn’t gross like you’ve heard others complain about when sharing their sex tales; despite being salty, the overall taste is neutral. still, it takes some getting used to.

when you pull away from each other, noses brushing and lips wet from each other’s spit, you look into his dark brown eyes and get the sudden desire to say something that’s been buried in the back of your mind for days now.

“why did you come straight to me that night?” you whisper. “like you already knew who you were there for.”

jungkook stares back, his lips curving up slightly. “i just wanted to. or i wanted you, more specifically.”

“that’s not an answer.”

“well, it’s my answer.”

“was i another one to knock off your list?”

“you think i have a list?”

“i’m not stupid. it’s not unusual for guys to have a list. plus, plenty of rumors go around.”

jungkook taps his fingers underneath your chin and kisses you on the lips again, though it is brief. “stop believing everything you hear.”

you clearly won’t be getting a straight answer from him tonight. with the moment broken, you sigh and begin pulling your bottoms back on. “…whatever you say, dude.” once you’re dressed, you climb over his body to get off the couch. you poke him in the chest as your eyes roam over him in his disheveled state, his shorts pulled down and his cum staining his black shirt. “might wanna clean yourself up, huh? i’m going to sleep. and, yeah…thanks for the distraction.”

TUESDAY, NOV 7

with the weather being as cold as it is and heading toward winter in another month or so, lorelai is surprised by how quickly the bodies began to smell.

she doesn’t know much of anything about bodily decomposition—because, to her parents’ disappointment, she wasn’t about to be a biology major and have to be around cadavers in a dissection lab—but if this were a movie or something, she would’ve thought it would take longer than just one day. the smell started to hit her the saturday after the party.

but ultimately, this isn’t a movie, and the fact that she’s trapped in a decrepit house in some remote part of town is her present reality.

she doesn’t remember anything about how she got to this house; she thinks she must have been concussed before she was brought here. her head has been hurting badly for days, and not even the simple relief of a painkiller is available.

what she does know is that she’s being kept in a dirty living room on an equally dirty mattress, her hands and legs tied by rope and zip-ties. if there were any miniscule chance of her escaping, it would be impossible to go anywhere considering both her ankles are broken, only adding to the amount of physical pain she’s been in for days.

the living room is mostly empty except for the bodies of some other students from the party, which have been scattered around the room. lorelai tries not to look at them—especially not at the ones she knows—but it’s difficult. they become even more terrifying to her when night falls, turning into dark, rotting shadows in the corners of the room. there has been nothing but the company of these corpses for days, and a couple of visits from the killer.

he's never once taken off his wolf mask or his gloves, and every other part of his body stays covered in all black. she doesn’t have the first idea of what he looks like underneath it all. he has spoken to her a few times, but the voice isn’t one she recognizes. his words when she first awoke inside this house still knock around in her mind, filling her with dread.

he’d crouched in front of her, watching her move around on the mattress and try to orient herself. he had the casual air of someone observing a flipped-up bug struggle on the sidewalk before crushing it underfoot. “you aren’t y/n, but you’ll do for now. we’ll have some real fun later on. you’ll help me give her a good scare.”

“how the fuck do you know y/n?” lorelai had struggled against her restraints, but this only made her newly broken ankles hurt worse. tears began to fall from her eyes from the pain and fear.

the killer had said nothing to that—only tilted his head curiously and stared at her, which was unnerving even if she couldn’t see his eyes.

“you have no fucking reason to go after her, she’s not even a virgin anymore you dumb fuck—” with those words, the killer had backhanded her, sending her already injured head into a fresh wave of agony.

“things would’ve been different if not for that fucking party. you students think you’re so fucking clever, yeah? and look how you paid for it.” it was impossible to see any facial expression, but his body language spoke of anger. “no matter, though. virgin or not, i’ll see this through to the end.”

now it’s yet another morning, and he has returned. he has a lot of debris in his hands—stuff like sticks and dry moss and foliage. he’s also carrying a small bag, the contents of it a mystery. everything he does causes alarm for lorelai, but now confusion joins in.

“ready to have some fun?” he asks. with duct tape over her mouth, she can’t answer back. she watches as he arranges the debris on the ground in front of her, her anxiety mounting as he takes a lighter out of his pocket and sets fire to the foliage.

leaning forward, he rips part of the duct tape away from her mouth with his gloved hand, causing her face to sting. “got anything to say?”

“wh-what the fuck are you doing?”

“i’m gonna stoke a nice fire here…get this knife hot enough to hurt.” he brings out his knife then, and lorelai shrinks away from the blade as he drags the flat of it across her throat—but there’s nowhere else to go, as she’s sitting up against the wall. “then i’ll just cut this pretty little body up a bit. the finishing touch…i think i’ll slice your throat open. how does that sound?” he takes the knife away from her neck to hold the blade over the flames.

lorelai’s breath hitches, and her stomach begins to physically hurt from the outpouring of anxiety flowing through her. she starts to sob, trying to speak through the tears and snot and drool. the only question she can muster up is, “wh-why?”

“this is for y/n—remember? i hope that concussion hasn’t fucked with your memory.” the killer watches the reflection of the flames on the blade as it grows hotter. “and…i’m doing someone a favor.” he doesn’t wait for her to speak again before putting the duct tape back in place over her mouth, leaving her to cry to herself and face her rising distress as he heats the knife until it’s burning hot. internally, she wishes there was any way in the world to get out of this situation.

it isn’t much longer before he’s finished. lorelai screams as he approaches her with the knife, and then at the feeling of the red-hot blade scorching her skin, though the sounds are stifled by the duct tape.

“now, be still while i fix you up.”

WEDNESDAY, NOV 8

you go outside that afternoon to check the mail and have an excuse to get out of the house; it doesn’t matter if it’s only for a few moments. you’re not used to staying cooped up in one place for so long with absolutely nothing to do, and you feel like you’re not too far off from going mad with cabin fever. it hasn’t even been a week since everything happened.

you open the mailbox, and there are the usual bills along with something strange: a blank envelope with no return address. even your sister’s address isn’t written on it. flipping it over, you see that the envelope was never sealed. someone must’ve just come up and put it inside the mailbox. but who the hell would do that, and for what reason? whenever any of your neighbors have something to give you or your sister, they come straight up to the house to do it.

inside the envelope is a set of polaroids. their content makes you drop the rest of the mail. your legs grow weak, and you end up sitting down hard on the end of the driveway, some of the polaroids slipping from your hands. the pictures show the bodies of some of the students from your university, their corpses posed in odd positions and some bare of clothing—all dead.

you struggle to breathe as you frantically flip through the rest of the pictures. in the center of all the group photos is lorelai, her neck torn open and her wrists and ankles tied. she’s still dressed the way she was the night of the party, though her dress is stained with dark brown blood. there are open cuts all over her bare skin, their appearance rough-looking and uneven as if they’ve been cauterized.

there are several group polaroids, several of lorelai alone, and several angles of the outside of a house, which must be the same one the bodies are being kept in. one photo of lorelai slips out of your shaking hands, and you see there’s barely legible handwriting on the back of it, which reads, “this is just the teaser, y/n.”

you scream and don’t stop screaming until jungkook comes running out of the house holding the baseball bat, as if the killer might’ve gotten bold enough to attack in daylight. a couple of your neighbors peek out of their houses and make their way over with concern on their faces once they see you sitting on the ground, your exclamations ringing through the street.

there’s a disarrayed group of people around you grabbing at your shoulders and asking what’s wrong, what happened, and then gasps and exclamations of shock when they see the polaroids. you feel yourself being pulled to your feet and then lifted up—maybe it’s jungkook, because it smells like him—but you’re too disoriented to make proper sense of anything right now. you can only think of how much time has been wasted, and how little time lorelai actually had left.

SUNDAY, NOV 12

in the main lobby of the funeral home, you sit in a chair next to camille, staring into empty space while the other girl tries to cry as quietly as she can. she cries as if she’s ashamed of it, and you wish you could comfort her, but you don’t know what to say or do. for the past few days, you’ve mostly just felt numb.

you’re waiting for veronica to come back out so you can leave, as she’d stayed behind after the service to talk to lorelai’s family for a little longer.

lorelai’s family had opted to have her cremated after seeing the state of her body. a lot of other families did the same after the events of cherry bomb, not even wanting to entertain the idea of a closed-casket funeral. you can understand their feelings about it if you push through the haze in your mind to consider it for long enough. though the morticians have done the best they can over the past week, sometimes knowing that your loved one has multiple stab wounds and eviscerated organs beneath all the makeup and fancy clothing is too much to handle.

when veronica finally comes out, the three of you walk outside to join the rest of the people who’ve started getting in their cars. some still linger in small huddles, shaking their heads and wiping their faces.

jungkook, who’d driven you and veronica to the memorial, waits outside for you all, leaning on the side of the building. you both thought it was probably better for him not to attend the service considering lorelai was never fond of him and he didn’t know her that well.

“is it finished?” he asks.

“it is.” veronica sighs. “god, funerals are so damn…bleak.”

you notice a man waving at your group from the other side of the parking lot and realize it’s camille’s dad. her posture straightens when she catches sight of him, and she hurriedly tries to wipe the rest of her tears before shoving her tissue into her pocket. “i-i think my dad is waiting for me. i…i’ll see you guys later, alright?”

“okay, camille.” the strange absence of emotion that you’ve been trapped in for the past few days suddenly cracks open when you notice camille’s anxious demeanor as she speed-walks away from the rest of you. intense sorrow overtakes you; you don’t want her to leave, but she has to go.

you are crying before you fully understand what’s happening. veronica puts her arms around you and squeezes you against the side of her body. jungkook reaches a thumb up to wipe away your tears, though you don’t let him get very far before turning your head away and into veronica’s shoulder.

“y/n…”

“how am i supposed to go on?” you exclaim, catching the attention of a few people nearby. “the police said maybe she’s just staying with friends. and now look. plus, the killer knows where me and my sister live now…maybe he always knew.”

“we don’t even have a clue who the killer is…” jungkook mumbles. “there’s no one you know of who might have a grudge against you?”

“no, jungkook. the police already gave me all that questioning. and it doesn’t help me feel any better to think maybe all these deaths are somehow my fault.” you scoff.

“y/n, nothing’s your fault because some freak decided to go around killing people; that was his decision.” jungkook argues.

you nod slightly to his words but say nothing else, not wanting to go further into that topic. you don’t know if you can believe him about that.

the parking lot is emptying out now, so you try to pull yourself together so the three of you can leave. “well…you don’t need to keep staying with us if you don’t want to. we have those assigned bodyguards now, so…” you glance in the direction of one other car sitting beside jungkook’s—inside it are two men the police force appointed after the polaroids of the bodies were planted in your sister’s mailbox.

jungkook looks at you as if he’s trying to gauge your expression; he himself looks surprised, though he attempts to play it off. veronica glances between you both, recognizing the awkward shift in the air.

“you don’t want me there anymore? i mean it is your house—” he glances at veronica “—so that’s fine with me if—"

“what? i didn’t say i don’t want you there, neither did veronica, it’s just if you don’t want to be there—"

“i never said i didn’t want to be there, though?”

you both become quiet, jungkook looking at you and you returning his gaze for a few seconds before looking off to the side. veronica is still standing between you both like she’d rather be anywhere else on earth.

“i just figured that maybe…” why are you being so concerned about me? isn’t this the part where we go our separate ways? is what you really want to ask. you have seen and learned enough from your friends’ and even your acquaintances’ experiences to realize that any other one night stand would not have cared so much. that’s how these things go, right? but he isn’t really a one night stand anymore, either.

you don’t even know if you’re considered friends with benefits, but what would that change? you’d still seen others tossed aside without much thought by their FWBs while in times of need. considering his history, you don’t understand why jungkook isn’t following the same template now, and you don’t think you should ask why for fear of breaking the illusion.

fed up with your own confusion, you decide now isn’t the time to lament on your lack of knowledge about these things. “nevermind. that’s fine. so you’ll stay?”

the corner of his mouth lifts in a brief smile. “i’ll stay as long as you won’t try to kick me out.”

you aren’t in the mood to attempt to smile back, but he seems to understand that. “right, well...good.”

“…now that you two have figured that shit out, can we leave?”

FRIDAY, NOV 17

jungkook thought that getting outside a bit more would help you feel better and prevent you from developing a complete fear of leaving the house, which is why you’re sitting in this claustrophobic little diner now with him, yoongi, and camille—and of course, your ever-present bodyguards in the booth behind you all. but this outing isn’t doing anything to mitigate your fears.

nearly 10 minutes in, you have to ask jungkook to switch seats with you so you’re not on the outside of the booth, as you’re afraid that it’s too easy-access if anyone—say, the killer, though you’ve been trying not to think so obsessively about him—were to come in and start stabbing you to death right where you sit. being on the inside calms you for a little while until you become anxious about the window beside you; what if he has a gun again and simply shoots through the glass? all he’d have to do is stand on the sidewalk and aim, his werewolf mask laughing at you with its eternally frozen growling expression, and your brains would be all over the table just like that frat guy’s.

your meal sits half-eaten as you get increasingly lost in your anxieties. the others are talking about something, but you can’t hear what. it’s like some of your senses have shut down or begun working incorrectly. the strawberry sauce in camille’s sundae looks too much like blood and even smells like it from the occasional whiffs you get, and you find yourself staring at the sundae dish and wanting to throw it across the restaurant.

jungkook’s hand touches you on the back, and the tension in your body increases. he feels it and draws away, though he keeps trying to meet your eyes. “are you okay?” he whispers.

“why ask that? she obviously isn’t,” yoongi says, like he’s annoyed with the obviousness of jungkook’s question.

“hyung, i’m just trying to help.”

“it was your great idea to come out here when she didn’t want to, though.”

“y/n—” camille starts.

“can’t you throw that out? it smells like blood.” your mouth feels useless and hard to maneuver, but you manage to say those words.

“what?”

“the…that. that thing.” everyone looks at camille’s melting sundae. yoongi raises his eyebrows.

“blood?”

“do you mean it—looks like blood?” jungkook suggests.

you raise your voice in irritation, not understanding how everyone else is unable to perceive the same scent that you do. “no, i-it does, but it smells like blood too! just get rid of it!”

one of the waitresses comes over to the table. “is everything okay over here?”

“um, we’re fine! i’m finished with this though.” camille hurriedly hands the sundae off to her, trying to keep the situation calm.

“oh, well—the rest of you too? that’ll be it, then?” she gathers everyone’s plates and leaves with a smile that attempts to be cordial but is still colored with unease.

her departure leaves a stiff silence in which you all spare glances at each other but try to avoid directly meeting eyes. camille is the first to break it.

“i’ll ask my dad if i can stay over with you,” she suggests. she suddenly sounds much more tired. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow slightly at her words; yoongi silently glances at the younger man. “just, you know…maybe the extra company would help? he’s been treating me like a kid again, but we should be safe with the bodyguards there, so…”

“you don’t have to do that,” you say, though you’re too exhausted to truly argue.

“you’re in shambles, y/n. and it’s not just for your benefit. i’m feeling pretty fucking alone right now, and it’s hard for my dad to understand the emotional side of it, so…” camille plays with her fingers and doesn’t look at anyone as she speaks; you know talking about her father can be a sore spot for her sometimes. “uh, anyway. not to trauma-dump or anything. just let me do this.”

you sigh. “fine…okay. do whatever you have to. can we just leave?”

as you’re all walking outside, jungkook pulls you aside.

“i still worry about you after that incident at the store, you know?” he admits.

you shrug his hand off your arm and glare at him. “you think i’m crazy.”

“i don’t. i just want you to be able to relax and not feel like you’re being hunted 24/7. i don’t think the killer is constantly waiting around the nearest corner for you, y/n.”

“you don’t know how close the killer could be. he knows where i go to sleep at night. so stop the bullshit, jungkook.”

“you’ll be okay. you have me, remember? i protected you that night…i can do it again.”

you examine his face for a long moment and find that you are too overwhelmed with stress and fear to be moved by his words. “i’d like to trust you…but the killer might just murder you too. then who’ll save me?” you don’t wait for his response before walking away to catch up with the other two.

LYING IN WAIT...

it’s strange to see the police bodyguards in veronica’s driveway and backyard everyday. it’s not the same two all day—they switch off so that there are two doing a day shift and two doing a night shift.

the security team at the hospital where your sister works is aware of the situation, so you try not to get too worried about her safety when she’s away from the house—but it’s difficult.

there have been no more kills connected to your university since lorelai. it seems like half the town has forgotten their fears and tried to go back to some sense of normalcy while the other half still hides away and lives in perpetual panic, including you. the former group of people has started muddying the waters for the police, with some teenagers getting brave enough to sneak around in wolf masks and vandalize buildings with red-lettered virgin graffiti just to fuck with the cops. there have even been a few people who turned themselves in claiming to be the killer—only their supposed confessions never matched the details of the case.

reporters have tried to hound lorelai’s family and your family several times for any speculations or answers on the killer’s identity, but none of you are willing to spread misinformation just to give them something to write about. however, that hasn’t stopped other residents of your town from sharing their speculations and even implicating their own relatives or neighbors—whether as a fucked-up joke or as genuine revenge just depends on whoever’s speaking. with all of these false leads, the police are still no closer to finding the killer than they’d initially been.

everyday feels like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, though the chances of any more kills are starting to seem improbable; the university is practically empty. but it doesn’t matter to you if the school is nearly deserted, because the killer has his aims set on you now, and you only wish you knew why.

up in your room, you and camille sit on your bed gazing out the window—the window that must always remain locked now, for fear of unwanted ingress. you’ve never been uncomfortable in your sister’s house, but lately you’ve been feeling like you’re boxed in with every wall pressing towards you.

sitting up from your lying-down position, you have to find the appropriate words for a moment before speaking. “camille—i can’t stop feeling like maybe we aren’t entirely safe,” you murmur.

camille raises her eyebrows. “why not? those guys stay outside all day, and we keep everything locked up day and night. literally, the only time the front door opens is for veronica to leave and come back from work everyday.”

“i don’t know. there’s no particular reason for it…it just seems like we’re waiting for something.”

“…yeah? for the killer to be caught.”

“but he’s made no moves recently. you remember the policeman’s daughter, right? i even texted her and she hasn’t heard anything new that we don’t already know. seems like things have slowed down at the police station. it’s not like that abandoned house was in the killer’s name or anything, so what leads would they have?”

camille frowns and rubs her eyes like something’s in them, but when she looks at you directly, you see her eyes are red from unshed tears. “…i want things to be okay, though. i’m tired of living like this. you know how i had to beg just to get my dad to let me leave the house. he’s constantly on edge.” you feel even more unsettled to see camille so distressed lately, as she’s always been the only one able to pull something funny out of a terrible situation—something enough to distract you from the horrors. “all i know is they’ll have to dig his ass out of some hole in the ground at some point. he can’t hide in this town forever.”

“yeah…i guess you’re right.” you still don’t feel reassured, but you don’t voice your doubts.

WEDNESDAY, NOV 22

“i think i might go mad,” camille says from her position on the armchair, her limbs splayed haphazardly across it and one hand stuck in a bag of chips.

you sigh. “you’re the one who wanted to watch this thanksgiving movie marathon.”

“the most mid holiday of the season,” jungkook adds.

“no one cares what either of you think, thanks.” it isn’t long before the program is over and the ending credits are rolling. with an exaggerated exhale, camille gets up from the chair and crunches the bag of chips in her hand. “i’m going to your room, y/n. you two just do whatever it is you do down here, since you hate my movie choices so much!”

“means we can finally turn the channel.” jungkook snatches the remote off the coffee table and does just that.

camille goes into the kitchen to throw out the chip bag and wash her hands. your focus returns to the TV. a few seconds later, you hear the upstairs flooring creak above the noise of the water pouring from the tap.

“what’s up, sis? i thought you were sleeping.” veronica is known to be a deep sleeper, so it’s not common for her to be getting up in the middle of the night. there’s no answer to your question. you glance upstairs, but your sister isn’t standing there; she isn’t standing at all, instead being carried by someone wearing an all-too familiar mask.

you scream as the killer tosses your sister over the stair railing. her torso has been sliced open from collarbone to navel, her body leaving a large splatter of blood on the floor where she lands. jungkook jumps to his feet but is momentarily immobilized as he gazes at your sister’s body crumpled on the floor. you slide off the couch and crawl over to her, still crying out, but there’s no life left to try and salvage.

the screaming brings camille rushing to the kitchen doorway. she can barely vocalize what’s wrong? before spotting veronica’s body and stopping in her tracks. in a moment that feels like it takes forever to pass, the killer pulls a gun from his waistband—you recognize it as one of the guns the policemen carry and realize he must’ve killed the bodyguard posted in the backyard—and shoots her in the chest twice.

“camille!” when you go over to where she’s lying on the ground, she is still alive but bleeding intensely and struggling to breathe. your knees slip in the blood that begins pooling around her. “shit, camille…p-please don’t die…” you press your hand against the wounds, but they’re bleeding so much that your efforts don’t help, and the pressure of your hand causes her more pain.

there’s the sound of a gunshot at the front door as the lock is blown off, and the door is banged open a few seconds later by the remaining bodyguard. he has virtually no time to fire off another shot before the killer is shooting him in the head first.

the killer throws the gun aside, taking his knife in his other hand and making his way down the stairs. “your sister left her window cracked open. i waited for days for a slip-up like that. see how much harm can come from a simple mistake? well, she was collateral damage anyway.”

even in your panic, it’s as if all your bodily functions freeze when you recognize the familiarity of the killer’s voice. camille reacts with a rattling gasp, but her body is becoming too weak for her to utter anything; all she can do is watch as the man stops at the bottom of the stairs and pulls his mask off.

“yoongi…” your voice breaks as you try to speak again, but nothing coherent comes out.

he drops the mask on the floor and brushes a hand through his hair. “i guess you weren’t expecting that. good. we kept it up ‘til the end.”

your lips form around the word we, but your vocal cords won’t cooperate. you twist around to look at jungkook, who is still standing by the couch.

the man who you’d gotten too close to for your own good and done so many firsts with, who’d promised you that he’d protect you and was even there for you on the day of lorelai’s memorial, looks at you now with eyes glowing from the thrill as his mouth twitches into a smile—small at first but growing into a full grin. “i almost can’t believe we staged all that shit and it actually worked. you really believed it all, y/n.

not all of those kills were hyung’s, of course...there’s no way i’d miss out on the best parts. you don’t know what it’s like until you kill a person for the first time. crashing cherry bomb was his idea, though. and lorelai was mine. that bitch would’ve kept you away from me, and i needed her gone for this kill to work.”

through tears, you finally muster up the strength to ask, “wh-why have you done this? that night…y-you mean to tell me none of that was real? being shot at—why would you—” your voice rises until you’re shouting. “you-you’ve killed so many people. what was the purpose?!”

jungkook’s smile fades somewhat as he pretends to think about it, acting like he’s reminiscing on wistful memories. “i realized that killing and fucking aren’t that different, y/n. the real ecstasy of it is in taking someone pure…and doing something to them that has never been done before, and can never be done again. there’s a certain eroticism in killing someone, stabbing them, entering them…it’s like sex in the most profane sense.”

“you’re disgusting,” you mutter, glaring at him through your tears. you can’t help but feel shame to think of the times you’d had sex with him. had he simply been imagining murdering you during those moments? it makes you want to throw up.

yoongi steps closer until he’s right in front of you and camille. “and as for me…i just enjoy it. practice really does make perfect. you wouldn’t believe how entertaining it can be to see someone beg for their life.” his lips turn upwards in a dark smile resembling jungkook’s. “but instead of raging at us, i think you have bigger matters to be concerned with.” yoongi gestures his knife hand to camille, and when you look down at her body, you realize she’s no longer moving.

you lift camille’s head up with your hands as if that could make her return your gaze, though you can find no sign of breathing or pulse. “god, no…” you scream in frustration, your hands slipping in her blood. you check once more and again for any signs of life, because there is just no possible way this could’ve happened, but there are none present. “please—i’m sorry…”

“time’s up.” yoongi grabs your arm and yanks you away from camille, jostling you to try to get you on your feet. you flail around in his grip, fruitlessly scratching at his arms that are covered by his thick jacket, before managing to elbow him in the groin with your frantic movements. “shit!” this causes him to loosen his grip, which is enough for you to scramble away from him, slipping in the blood as you go.

you make it to the other side of the room where the officer lies facedown—though there isn’t much left of his face from yoongi’s shot. you snatch the gun from the dead officer’s hand and point it in the direction of both men. the safety is already off; all you’d have to do is pull the trigger and kill either one of them right now. before you can act, yoongi uses his free hand to pull another gun from his waistband—his own.

“as i said before, i know how to take care of myself,” he says, flicking the safety off and aiming for you, though his stance shows he’s still in pain. “please don’t assume it’ll be that easy. do you even know how to shoot a gun?”

you and yoongi are at an impasse as you both point your guns at each other, jungkook looking on with casual amusement coloring his face. “fuck you,” you spit out. you remain hesitant to fire on him, knowing that even if you succeed, he could fatally shoot you at the same time.

“let’s not do it this way,” yoongi says, his voice low and soft in an attempt to be persuasive, though you just find it disturbing. “you were supposed to be a clean kill. a few stabs and it’d all be over. i’ll even let jungkook do it, since you seem to like each other so much. do you really want to be shot down like a dog like camille over there?”

“you and him can both fry in hell!” you shout.

yoongi glances over at jungkook. they both nod before yoongi hands the knife to him, and the younger man takes a few steps in your direction. you don’t know whether to point the gun at him or keep it trained on yoongi; your head is pounding with a headache that you’ve only just realized you have. “don’t come over here. stay away from me!”

you press your back to the wall as jungkook comes closer, inching towards your right side with his knife at the ready. you slide away from him as you keep your back against the wall. “hand it over, y/n. it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“hand it over and let you kill me? are you insane? you lied to me this whole time, you fucking piece of shit.”

jungkook scoffs and looks at yoongi as if to say can you believe this? “why wouldn’t i lie to you? you were always meant to die.”

he won’t stop coming towards you, and you’re running out of room to slide away from him. you grasp for anything to try to reason with him, though you know it’s futile. “you realize that if you kill me now and you conveniently survive, everyone will know it’s you? you’ve been living here for weeks, you jackass!”

“hyung and i have that covered. it’s not for you to worry about, considering you won’t be worrying about anything soon.”

jungkook lunges for you with the knife, thinking he can catch you off guard and overpower you. you scream and pull the trigger in your frenzied state of mind, shooting yoongi. the next few things seem to happen almost simultaneously:

you hear the crash of yoongi’s body hitting the TV stand and the TV falling to the floor.

you feel jungkook’s knife piercing your shoulder, causing you to fire a stray round into the wall from the unexpected burst of pain.

you hear another gunshot that’s not from you; you see and feel jungkook stumble into you, the knife sliding from his fingers and to the floor.

you realize that he’s been shot when his hand flies to the bullet wound on his lower back; he’d been standing in front of you, and yoongi meant to hit you, not him.

“jungkook!” yoongi’s shout is furious and regretful as he steadies himself on the TV stand.

trying to push the pain into the back of your mind, you clumsily grasp jungkook’s fallen knife and run for the stairs. more shots follow you and most of them miss but one, which strikes you in the thigh. while you cling to the stair railing and try to regain your footing, you are suddenly staring mortality in the face and understanding with a freezing-cold clarity that you will die right now if you don’t do something.

your nervous system vibrates with fear and adrenaline as you tighten your grip on the police officer’s gun and shoot yoongi with it twice—in the same area he’d shot camille.

these last two bullets finish him off immediately. you don’t think it’s fair, with how camille suffered and bled and died in your arms. for a moment, you’re so outraged that you wish he’d come back to life so that you could kill him again. you’re torn from these thoughts by jungkook.

“you bitch…he was my only family after everyone else threw me away. do you understand? i’ll fucking kill you!” jungkook is nearly writhing in the ground from his upset and from the hurt of his injury; it frightens you that this same man is someone you once thought you could grow fond of.

you aim the gun for jungkook next, but the chamber is empty. either way, he currently has no weapon, which leaves you with a small chance to get away before he re-arms himself. throwing the gun away, you stagger up the rest of the steps while his screams continue echoing up to you.

you give no thought to the blood trail you’re leaving behind as you rush to veronica’s room and to the window yoongi had entered through. you begin squeezing yourself through, keeping your grip on your knife all the while, but your injuries make it difficult to move. a few more tears slip out as you try to balance your injured leg on the tree branch beneath the window, and the desperation of wanting to give up clings to you.

you hear jungkook’s heavy and limping footsteps coming up the stairs, and you attempt to hurry, but you’re only halfway out of the window. when he crashes into the room, it’s unnervingly easy for him to grab your arm and yank your body back through the window, uncaring of how you get scraped up in the process.

he jams you up against the nightstand with one of the kitchen knives to your neck to stop your movements; his harsh maneuver causes the objects on the nightstand to rattle. the nightstand’s edge digs into the backs of your thighs, the pressure causing your wounded thigh to hurt more.

“you want to know why i picked you?” jungkook hisses, the knife’s blade stinging your throat as it begins to break skin. “you were just another choice out of many, but i decided you’d be the first one that i’d fuck and kill.”

it’s painful to hear, but it angers you at the same time. “fuck you!” in your rage, you spit in his eyes. jungkook jerks back and the knife shifts from its previous position at your neck; you take those few seconds to grasp the alarm clock off the nightstand and crash it against his head.

“shit—!” he cries out, stumbling and grasping the side of his head. he tries to grab for you again, but you jump onto the bed and crawl away from him, your stomach lurching at all of veronica’s blood soaked into the sheets. you spot a small decorative glass bowl on the dresser—the one filled with little candies that you’d always teased veronica for, saying she was so much like a grandma handing out treats to her grandchildren. when your feet touch the ground again, you clasp your hand around it like it’s a lifeline and fling it at jungkook’s head as hard as you can, just as he makes it around the bed to your side. the shards cut his face when it breaks, slowing him down further as he grabs his slashed and bleeding face. one of his eyes is blinded from the blood and glass.

this will probably be your only chance while he’s struggling to gather himself. you rush towards him with the knife handle tight in both of your hands and drive the blade into the middle of his chest, putting all your strength into that movement—just as his own knife impales your abdomen.

you are both simultaneously struck from the shock of being stabbed, and it takes you a few long moments to piece your mind back together as the pain radiates throughout your body. jungkook groans when you shift the knife around in his wound as you pull it out, letting his blood flow out freely. his breaths become wet and rattling as he chokes on his own blood, the red fluid staining his mouth and dripping down to his neck. he jams his knife further into your wound in retaliation so that the handle is flush against your body, causing your head to spin.

“i-if i die, i’m taking you w-with me.” jungkook gasps with his remaining effort. his body starts to sag from its standing position as he weakens, his hand slipping from the knife handle. he loosely grasps the comforter with one hand as he collapses to his knees, his torso becoming soaked with blood and his head bleeding from your earlier hits.

you drop your knife and lean against the bed too, shifting your body to find a position that could lessen the pain, but it’s impossible with a knife lodged in your abdomen. you know enough to understand that you’ll bleed out faster if you remove it, though, so you resist the urge. “you can rot in hell alone, jungkook.” you watch him struggle for what feels like minutes before his breaths stop altogether and his body slumps to the floor. he is just a blur of clothes and blood through your tears. you’ve never felt so lonely in your life.

you have a thought to call 911, but you’re becoming more and more lightheaded from the blood loss, and you can already hear sirens approaching on your street. you figure one of your neighbors must’ve called after hearing the gunshots; perhaps the bodyguard sent for backup before he was shot. your rescue has come much later than you would’ve preferred—or maybe everything just happened much faster than it seemed. you can’t tell anymore.

you can’t tell anymore, and you no longer want to look at the carnage around you, and nothing makes any sense. so, you close your eyes to it all; and when you feel someone lifting you in their arms—this sensation is so familiar—and maneuvering you onto a stretcher, you allow yourself to relent to it and empty your mind of everything.

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viennakarma · 3 months

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Evergreen (he tears me to pieces)

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Your relationship is ending, despite you fighting for it for a while. Maybe it's time to let go.

Word count: 3.7k

Tags: Female reader, established relationship, heartbreak, neglected relationship, fights, cursing, miscommunication, misunderstandings, break up, sad ending (kinda), open ending, not beta read

Relationships: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Notes: this is a bit sad, not gonna lie, but the ending is kinda hopeful (i guess?)

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You didn’t want to believe your relationship had reached a tipping point, but the details were all there. The lack of interest, distance, coldness.

You knew you and Charles were at a complicated point in your relationship. Losing the championship the year before had taken a huge toll on him, even when he tried to pretend it didn’t matter that much.

You were home in Monaco when you came back from shopping and you found Charles dressing up in the closet. You paused.

“Where are you going?” You asked, placing your shopping bag down.

“I’m going out for dinner with the boys,” he said, fixing his curls in front of the mirror.

“Charlie! We had my work dinner to go tonight! Did you forget about it?”

“Shit, baby!” He muttered, turning to you, “I’m so sorry!”

“Can you reschedule with your friends?” You asked, but he shook his head, spraying his cologne.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll make it up to you soon!” He reached for his wallet and car keys, “Don’t wait up for me!”

You sat on the bed, stunned. You thought about what you would say when you showed up at your work dinner that was made for the staff to take their partners to meet their colleagues and the work environment.

Alone at the dinner while everyone introduced their partners, you stayed only enough to not be considered rude and tried to not cry the whole drive back home.

Charles had not arrived yet when you went to bed, and you allowed yourself to shed a couple of tears before forcing yourself to sleep.

That was a bad day. Charles had crashed his car during the formation lap and you watched it with a heavy heart as he was out of the race and walking completely lost on his way back to the garage.

You waited for him to finish his press duties and after the race started, you went to meet him in his driver’s room. He was sitting on the sofa, a dreadful look on his face.

“Baby, how are you?” You whispered, kneeling beside him.

“How does it look?” He said, sarcastically.

“I’m sorry, that was stupid.” You frowned at your own silliness.

“Really stupid,” he mumbled. You swallowed, thinking he was just having a bad day.

“Can I do something for you?” You asked again, but he rolled his eyes.

“How about you leave me the fuck alone?!” He didn’t raise his voice too much, but the aggression was in his tone, in his coldness, like he was fed up with your existence.

You only nodded, ignoring the flaring pain in your chest as you silently left his room.

The lump in your throat didn’t bother too much as you sat down in the hospitality and watched what was left of the race. You stayed aimlessly around until way past the race ended, thinking about when it was finally time to go back to the hotel. You knew the debriefing meetings were usually longer after messed up races, so when you went back to the garage to look for Charles, you realized his bags weren’t in his room and the staff was disassembling everything and packing it up to leave.

You walked to the parking lot and noticed Charles’ car wasn’t there anymore. Back at the motorhome, you reached for your phone and tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail. You were getting nervous every minute you passed alone there.

Like a forgotten clown.

“Hey! Are you ok?” You jumped hearing the voice behind you. It was Carlos, your boyfriend’s teammate and close friend.

“Yeah, um-” you stumbled on the words, because how the fuck would you tell Carlos that your boyfriend had left you behind, “I can’t reach Charles, and he left probably thinking I left earlier today.”

“Come on, I can give you a ride,” Carlos shook his keychain, pointing toward the parking lot.

“Thank you,” you managed to squeeze out.

As Carlos drove in silence, only the radio on softly, you tried not to think, because thinking would make you cry. And you didn’t want to cry in front of Carlos. As a sad song started, a single tear escaped, and you quietly wiped it, wishing Carlos was too focused on driving to notice. But as he stopped in front of the hotel, he offered you a tissue from the glovebox, which made two more tears come down before you could stop yourself.

“Thank you for the ride,” you said, and he just nodded.

“Anytime,” he said softly.

You were grateful he didn’t ask a single thing, nor tried to comfort you.

When you got into the hotel room, Charles was fast asleep, so you just got under the shower and cried with a hand on your mouth to muffle your cries.

You were finishing up your makeup when Charles got home on a random Saturday that he didn’t have work, and you two were home.

As you finished gluing eyelashes, Charles stood behind you with both hands on your hips.

“Aren’t you too formal for dinner at my mum’s?” He asked.

“I have a work gala tonight, Charles,” you said, impatiently, and moving away so his hands just slid off you.

“Why wasn’t I invited?” He pouted.

“You were,” you opened the lipgloss, applying to your lips, “you just forgot. Again.”

You didn’t look at him to see his expression drop. It was always like this, you were the last thing on his list of priorities. When he had work functions, you were always there for him, making do with your own time and commitments, squeezing him in so you’d never leave when he needed you. Unfortunately he never reciprocated you. Your friends didn’t matter, dinner with your family was optional and your work events, he didn’t even bother to go.

“You should’ve reminded me again.”

“I did. Two nights ago on the plane when we were flying back.”

“I can call my mom, reschedule our-” he started but your scoff cut him off.

“Don’t bother,” you shrugged.

“Amour-” He tried but you just shook your head.

“Just don’t, Charles,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing your clutch, “I don’t want to be late for the gala.”

Despite the sour beginning, the night was actually nice, you caught up with most of your colleagues, and sadly your boss announced she was going to retire. The night had a small award ceremony too, to celebrate the success of the year. Which ended up with you getting an award for your achievements during the year, and with a beautiful speech from your soon to be ex-boss, she announced that you were getting the promotion for the position of editor in chief, which was pretty much your dream job.

The night was one of the happiest of the year, and you only got home past two in the morning, after enjoying the company and celebrating your promotion. Charles was asleep as you placed your award, a symbolic trophy, on the living room bookshelf.

Charles never asked about the gala, and you didn’t waste any time trying to tell him, since he clearly didn’t give two fucks about your career.

When you went to the next race week hand in hand with Charles, you met Max Verstappen and Sebastian Vettel, who were chatting. You and Charles greeted the both of them. Sebastian who you knew from his time as Charles’ teammate and Max who you knew ever since you were a teen karting for fun. You knew Max just as long as you knew Charles.

“I heard about your promotion! Congratulations!” Max said with a smile. You accepted his handshake with a tender smile. But at the same time, you felt the sudden hold of Charles on your hip.

“Oh, thank you!”

“Really?! Congratulations, Y/N!” Sebastian added.

“She’s always wanted to be editor in chief!” Max pointed out, “She was always talking about it when we were like fifteen!”

You smiled softly, remembering that when you were a teen, you were obsessed with 13 going on 30, and you were very vocal about your dream of working on a fashion magazine.

“I’m glad you achieved the dream then!” Sebastian said with great kindness to you.

Charles tapped your hip twice, and you knew the signal when you had to go.

“Thank you guys, thanks! Charles and I have to go, but see you around!” You and Charles waved at them and walked off.

Charles took your hand and, in long strides, led you inside only stopping when you were in a meeting room.

“You got a promotion?! Why didn’t you tell me that?” Charles said, suddenly upset.

“I guess it just slipped my mind,” you shrugged.

“This was your greatest dream! When did it happen?” He asked, looking hurt.

“At the gala you missed,” you sounded unbothered by his sudden outburst of hurt.

“And how did they know?!” He pointed a finger outside.

“From my instagram, I guess. I made a post about it,” you dismissed Charles, ignoring the fact that he hadn’t seen your post, going to sit down and sip some coffee, “I don’t understand why you’re using that tone with me.”

“Because you should’ve told me!” He raised his voice.

“I just don’t see why, my career never really mattered to you, why would it matter now?!” You said, and the more calmly you talked, the angrier he got.

“You got to be fucking kidding me, right?” He shouted.

“Look, you need to chill. I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but I’m going to take a stroll around. See you in a bit. Hopefully you will have calmed down.” You stood up, leaving his room without letting him say anything else.

Despite getting calm between you and Charles, the distance only seemed to grow, and the only thing keeping you hung onto the love you felt for him were the memories of your five year relationship. You had to do something if you wanted to save your relationship with Charles.

Your fifth year anniversary happened in a day Charles was busy, but sent you flowers, and texted you a sweet message in video. It made you invigorated, and you planned to go all out on the weekend, when Charles was going to come home.

So you planned dinner with a cake, and a romantic getaway after checking his schedule and making sure you could make a quick trip to a very romantic and secluded villa in Positano. You also dressed in very sexy lingerie, and got yourself really pretty to wait for him. So you had everything planned. Dinner at 8, maybe a little love making after, and then you’d drive to Nice to get on the plane at midnight and take off to Italy.

You had told him to come home as soon as he got to Monaco, because you had an anniversary surprise for him. You texted him twice during the day to remind him.

But when the clock hit 8 in the night, the time you had told him to come home, a dreadful feeling placed in the pit of your stomach. He wouldn’t stand you up, would he? 8:17 you texted him a couple of times, but he didn’t read the text. 8:42 you removed the lamb from the oven, setting it on the table. 9:58 Joris texted you talking about how Charles had met the boys and they went out for a drink that turned into a few drinks.

Your face was wet with tears as you packed the food and placed it in the fridge, then washed your face of the make up and changed out of the lingerie. You were unpacking the two bags you’d take on the getaway, when you stared at the silly romantic tickets you had made over the week to symbolically gift him the romantic getaway. You stopped unpacking the bags, changing into a comfortable attire then taking only your bag and driving to Nice.

You turned your phone off and went to Positano alone.

The couple of days you spent only with yourself were good, even though you were crying a lot, feeling abandoned, forgotten and lonely in your relationship. You and Charles had been in a relationship for so long during your early adulthood, and you knew each other ever since you were preteens. It was painful watching life taking you and Charles apart even being so close.

It was weird, you thought you had gotten over the toughest years of your relationship. The year you started dating you were living in another country to attend university, and that had been very difficult to your relationship, but still, you managed.

You mourned the loss of that Charles. The Charles that would align both of your schedules so he wouldn’t miss anything important for you. The Charles that would send you random texts with pictures of things that reminded him of you. The Charles that cared, that asked, that communicated. This Charles was different, you two had grown into people with different goals in life. He wasn’t the same, but you also weren’t the same. Your priorities didn’t align anymore, that was a tough pill to swallow.

But you did.

You went back home again two days later, tanned and tranquil, with your mind made up about asking Charles for a break.

But as you entered the apartment, Charles ran into your arms.

“I’m so sorry, my love! So sorry I forgot about our plans! I was so worried about you!” He kissed your cheek, and you smiled politely, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise! I made a reservation at your favorite restaurant tomorrow night!”

“Charles,” you tried to come up with words, you were so tired, “I’ve got work this week.”

“Yeah, but you leave work at five? And our reservation is only at seven!” He asked, “Please, baby? Let me make it up to you.”

You were so tired of trying to hold on to something that was slipping through your fingers for months now, you didn’t feel any spark at his promising invite. But since he wanted to put in the effort, you would try again at least this once. If you couldn’t find the spark again until the end of the night, you’d have to let go.

So that’s how you ended up changing and putting makeup on at work, in your office. You’d meet Charles straight there since you had to catch up with work.

You had a gut feeling when you got to the restaurant, asking about the reservation under Leclerc. When the hostess took you to your table and you saw that Charles wasn’t there, you hoped and prayed he was coming.

Nursing a glass of wine, you just stared at the empty seat across from you. Your heart finally, fully sinking into the dark deep sea of this relationship. You felt like you’d been swimming against the tide, trying so hard to be the old you, with the old Charles. But this mourning of your relationship was happening inside of you for months now.

You had to let go.

Charles was 47 minutes late when you paid for the wine and got up, grabbed your coat and left.

You were waiting for the valet to bring your car, when Charles finally showed up, quickly talking to the other valet. Your boyfriend was flushed in the face and had very obviously rushed there. It took him a second to notice you standing outside.

“Amour! What are you-” he paused, seeing the quietness in your face and the lit up cigarette between your fingers, “why are you smoking?”

“That’s the first thing you tell me?!” You scoffed. He finally noticed that you were waiting, dressed in your coat.

“Are you leaving?” He asked, confused.

“Yes, my boyfriend stood me up, can you believe that?!” You said, sarcastically.

“But I’m here, amour. Admittedly, a little late but-” he tried to say.

“Nuh-uh,” you shook your head, with a smirk, “my boyfriend was late. My ex-boyfriend is here.”

“Amour, no, please just-”

“Save it, Charles. It’s time to let go,” you said and briefly thanked the valet as he brought your car out, “I’ll go to your flat tomorrow, pick my stuff and leave the keys.”

“Please, don’t do this. Don’t do this to us,” Charles was teary eyed but you were unmoved. You quietly took a drag, then turned your face to puff the smoke to the other side.

“Us is done for a long time, and I’ve been trying to save it for a while but I’m tired now.”

“Can we talk? Tomorrow?”

“You won’t be here tomorrow, Charles. You’ll probably be doing any of the hundred things that are more important than your girlfriend,” you got into the car and drove away. Charles could see you didn’t want to talk, and maybe it was better to let you cool off for a moment.

He couldn’t believe how cold and detached you were being, the nonchalance in your tone, the finality of it all. Yes, he had messed up a few times, but not to the point of losing you. Right?

You ignored his messages and calls as you spent the next 24 hours in a hotel, only leaving to go to work and back. You had told Charles you were going to pick up your stuff, but you decided to do that two days later, when you knew he wouldn’t be there, traveling for his sponsor's commitments.

But when you got there, Charles was there, looking like he had barely slept.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Italy?” You asked, bringing a couple of cardboard boxes inside.

“I canceled. Was waiting for you.” He said, low.

You felt like the lump in your throat was going to suffocate you any moment, because that’s what you wanted. You wanted him to put you first once, to care for your career a little bit, to make you a priority. But you wanted that earlier.

“You didn’t need to,” you said and swallowed, starting to pick up your books from the bookshelf, placing them in the box.

“You’re what matters the most,” he said, walking up to you.

“Bit late for that, Charles,” you scoffed. You couldn’t help but feel angry and act petty when you had been begging for his attention for almost a year now.

“Please, talk to me, Amour. Tell me.” He begged, taking your hands from the books, pulling you to pay attention to him. You snapped, pulling your hands from his.

“Did you cheat on me?” You asked, suddenly, because the possibility had been roaming your mind for a while now. It would certainly explain his distance, his misplaced priorities.

“What? What kind of question is that?” He looked so offended.

“Yes or no, Charles. It’s a simple question.”

“No, I would never cheat on you!”

You sighed. Old you would’ve believed him. Present you… weren’t sure. But then, it didn’t matter if he did it or not, anyway you broke up already.

“Talk to me!”

“I don’t know what you want me to say!” You shouted, taking a step back.

“What is going on! What you are feeling! Why are you leaving me?!” He was just as loud.

“Our relationship has been ending for a while now, are you fucking blind?! I’m alone in this! I love you alone. I cherish you alone. I fucking try alone! You don’t have the time for us, and you don’t even try to pay attention to me! You forgot me in the paddock a month ago, and you didn’t even know because you never asked! You missed the gala where I got a promotion, my greatest accomplishment! You missed our anniversary celebration! And when you promised to make it up to me, you stood me up! I’m tired, I feel like you’re suffocating us to death with your bare hands!”

“I didn’t realize you we-”

“Of course, you didn’t! You only care about yourself, Charles.”

“I take responsibility for my actions, yes. I’m so sorry I made you go through all that! But I can fix it!” He said, pleading.

“I don’t believe you anymore,” you said, voice soft and sad, “Who says I won’t get my hopes high only to be met with disappointment again later on?”

“I’m saying!”

“You’ve said that before, I’ll make it up to you, It won’t happen again, We’ll reschedule, I’m done with your excuses, Charles.”

“You don’t love me anymore? Is that it?”

“Stop, Charles. You’re being unfair.”

“Yes or no?” He pressed further.

“I don’t know!” You shouted, exasperated, “I don’t know. My love took many hits over this year.”

“So this is it?” Charles opened his arms, flailing them around, “we’re done?”

“Yes. It’s for the best,” You finally said. Weirdly, you probably made peace with the fact your relationship was ending when you were crying alone in Positano.

It washed you with a surprising sense of relief, like a weight lifted from your shoulders. You probably had been emotionally checking out for a while. His absences and the coldness had been taking such a toll on you and your mental health, that the prospect of not having to deal with it anymore made you feel at peace.

That, or you were still numb after a rollercoaster of emotions.

“No, I don’t want it, I love you. So much.” he shook his head, tears streaming down his face.

A tiny part of you still wanted to comfort him, to hug him and say he’d be fine in the end. But nobody offered you the same kindness. Charles would have friends and family supporting him. You couldn’t do that. Not when he had caused you so much pain, constantly.

“I’ll, um-” you paused, putting the books back, “I’ll go. I can come back another time, when you’re not home. It will be better this way.”

You started walking to the door, but Charles intercepted you, blocking your path. His eyes were red, cheeks wet, and he looked absolutely hopeless.

“Please, let me try! Is there something I can do to change your mind?” He begged.

“No,” you dodged him, going to the door.

You left, without looking back. And despite the pain of ending something that at some point was so beautiful and such a source of happiness, the day was sunny and beautiful, and something in the way it warmed your face told you that you’d be alright.

NOTE: I'm considering writing part 2 with reader moving on, and as I'm feeling petty, I want her to move on to another driver, teehee. Opinions on which driver?

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #Spotify

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makoodles · 1 year

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ミ tìtunu

part one | part two | part three (nsfw) | part four (nsfw

🍓pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader

🍓word count: 9k words (oops)

🍓warnings: alien courting rituals, misunderstandings, accidental sexy touching

yoooo i was not expecting people to like this ahhahahaha but thank you all so much for all your lovely excited comments! they've been so fun to read and honestly pushed me into writing this faster! pls forgive me if i forgot to tag you (i tried to include everyone that asked) 🍓 masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

Tsu’tey is beginning to wonder if he had received some irreparable damage to his head in the fall from the sky that had nearly killed him all those months ago. It’s the only explanation for what’s gone so terribly wrong with him.

After his failed first attempt at courting, you don’t come back to the village for a few days. It’s probably a good thing, Tsu’tey tries to convince himself; he needs to decide what it is he truly wants, and how far he’s willing to go to get it. But even though he tries to use the time to himself productively, he finds himself on edge and impatient.

His foul mood is clear to the whole village to see, and so it’s only a matter of time before someone confronts him about it.

It’s just his luck that the person who approaches him about it is Jakesully.

“So,” The new Olo’eyktan drawls as he sidles up to where Tsu’tey is watching a group of young warriors training with their longbows, “Word has it that you’ve chosen a mate.”

They may be brothers in arms and tentative friends, but that doesn’t mean that Tsu’tey is pleased to have him poking around his business. His ears flatten back in a wordless warning to back off, but Jakesully pays no heed to it.

The bastard is grinning, as though this is the most entertained he’s been in weeks. “Word has it that your chosen mate is human.”

“Do not speak on matters you do not understand.” Tsu’tey bares his teeth in a move that is bold at best, considering he is speaking to his clan chief.

But Jakesully just laughs, his stupid shoulders straightening. He has become so confident since becoming one of the people, and Tsu’tey envies him for it. He was sure of himself just like Jakesully once, but now it seems like all he does is doubt himself.

“Relax, brother.” Jakesully says casually, leaning on one leg as he follows Tsu’tey’s gaze out towards the young warriors. “You are too tense. How could she want someone so grumpy?”

Tsu’tey turns to him then, his tail coiled in a tense loop as he glares. “She is a demon.”

Jakesully just rolls his eyes. It's a gesture so human that it’s almost jarring. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that he is alien, just like you.

“Everyone sees the way you look at her.” Jakesully says, raising a brow at him. “It’s a different kind of scowl than you give everyone else.”

Tsu’tey doesn’t think that he scowls that much. He tries to force the frown off his face as he turns to look at Jakesully head on.

“It does not matter what you think you see,” He bites out, frustrated and on-edge with embarrassment. “She is tawtute. Sky demon. She does not see, cannot connect with the People or with Eywa.”

Jakesully is nodding, but he still has that infuriating smirk curling around his mouth that suggests he understands Tsu’tey’s feelings better than Tsu’tey himself does.

“That hasn’t stopped you so far, has it?” He points out with a faux-innocent tone that is utterly unconvincing. “I mean, you certainly seem happier to show her around and explain things to her than you ever were with me.”

“That is because she listens, Jakesully.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jakesully waves this away as if it’s inconsequential, before his expression shifts.

The next look he levels at Tsu’tey is uncomfortably sober.

“Look. I know that you’ve been having a hard time since...” He trails off, and his eyes dart down towards the harsh, ugly scars that cover Tsu’tey’s torso from where the brutal human weapons called bullets had nearly torn him apart. “Look, who cares what anyone else thinks? The People are still wary of the humans left over, but they’re looking to you as an example on how they should act. You could set a precedent here.”

Tsu’tey clenches his jaw as he stares out at the warriors. Instead of answering, he shouts out to one of the younglings near the edge of their makeshift firing range. “Netu’li, keep your elbows up.”

Netu’li fixes his posture, and the next arrow he looses hits home in a perfect bullseye. Tsu’tey nods in satisfaction.

Jakesully is still staring at the side of his face, and Tsu’tey realises that there is no way for him to escape this conversation. He takes a breath, and tries to ignore the resentful embarrassment coiling in his belly.

“She did not accept my advances.” He mutters, his ears flattened against his skull.

Irritatingly, Jakesully doesn’t seem bothered by this in the slightest.

“Oh yeah?” He drawls. “Hm. Well, I never thought you’d give up so easily. I’m surprised.”

Tsu’tey flicks a quick glance his way. What a ridiculous, painfully transparent attempt at goading him into admitting the interest he’s been trying to deny. The worst part is that it might actually be working.

“I did not say I was giving up.” Tsu’tey says sharply, well aware that he’s playing right into Jakesully’s hands right now. “I am just… I am thinking.”

Jakesully raises his stupid eyebrows, but Tsu’tey is studiously avoiding looking at him now. This whole situation was mortifying enough when it was all going unsaid; now that it’s being discussed, Tsu’tey feels like climbing inside of a yomioang plant and never coming out.

“Well,” Jakesully sounds smug, which should be a warning in itself, “You’d better do some thinking quickly, because I believe that’s her coming now.”

Tsu’tey straightens quickly, and tosses a look over his shoulder. Sure enough, your familiar figure is standing awkwardly by the treeline. It seems as though you’re reluctant to step further into the village; you’re fidgeting with your fingers, eyes darting around until they finally find him.

Something in his lower belly leaps, and he finds himself taking a sharp inhale through his nose at the sight of you. It’s been days since he’s last seen you, and he had been beginning to wonder if you would ever seek him out again. The sight of you here is a ridiculous sort of relief, one that he doesn’t even want to fully think about. Even better is the fact that you look alright, you look healthy. It doesn’t seem as though he’s done lasting damage to you with the meat.

You smile at him, and even from across the village he feels his heart thump against his ribcage. Perhaps you don’t hate him after all.

Aware of your eyes on him, Tsu’tey hefts his longbow from his back and shoots an arrow. It flies straight through the target, and hits it with a heavy, satisfying thump.

Jakesully just laughs. “Wow. Impressive.”

“Be silent.” Tsu’tey grumbles, his tail coiled tightly around his leg. He is anxious in a way that is entirely unbefitting of a warrior, and he resents you for being the cause of it. “I do not wish to speak to her.”

“Oh, come on!” Jakesully tilts his head back, shaking his head as though Tsu’tey is nothing but a child. “I thought we just talked through this!”

Tsu’tey ignores him. He can feel your gaze on his back like a weight, and though he stands straight and tall he cannot bring himself to turn around and meet your eyes. It’s all too much – even from across the camp your presence needles at him, and he hasn’t even decided on what he’s going to do just yet.

Jakesully’s eyes on the side of Tsu’tey’s face don’t help very much either. “Where’s all your confidence from the other night gone, when you practically declared what you wanted in front of the whole clan?”

Tsu’tey’s tail lashes restlessly. That had been a moment of pure madness. “It was rash of me.”

Jakesully just makes a face. “Whatever. Look, if the People could accept a skxawng like me as Olo’eyktan, why wouldn’t they accept your interest in a human mate? They respect you; they’ll respect your choices.”

It’s a reasonable point, but Tsu’tey remains stubbornly silent. It rankles, the way that Jakesully is trying to insert himself into his business. Tsu’tey’s thoughts and feelings about you are confused and conflicted, but they’re private. The way Jakesully speaks about you as though he knows you makes Tsu’tey’s skin prickle.

“I must think on it.” Tsu’tey says at last. It’s a weak response, but he just wants to buy himself some time.

Perhaps Jakesully is right. Tsu’tey has always been strong-willed and stubborn, and has always known exactly what he wanted. Now though, he's floundering. Now he doesn’t know what he wants, and he’s casting about desperately in the hopes that someone will advise him on what to do. After having his life and expectations so soundly upended, he just wants to make his clan proud. He wants their approval, but Jakesully is right – when has he ever given up on anything just because it posed a challenge?

“Fine.” Jakesully says, jarring Tsu’tey from his thoughts. He had nearly forgotten the Olo’eyktan was still there, and it’s unnerving to realise that he’s being watched with a smug sort of smirk. “I’ll keep her company for today, then. Considering you need your space.”

Tsu’tey’s jaw clenches hard but he does not protest. He can’t, not after making such a big deal out of not wishing to speak to you today. His pride is hurt, and all he can do is double-down on his position. Besides, Jakesully is mated to Neytiri, and Tsu’tey knows that he would rather die than stray from her.

That doesn’t stop him from turning his head as Jakesully leaves his side, watching with sharp eyes as the Olo’eyktan approaches you. Even from this distance, he can see the little smile on your face through your mask as you tilt your head up towards him. The sight of it causes something to curdle in his low belly.

That should be him on the receiving end of your sweet little smile. It’s a selfish thought, but one that he can’t quite shake off. The sense of possessiveness surprises even him, and he watches with narrowed eyes as Jakesully leans down to say something to you.

When Jakesully’s stupid five-fingered hand touches upon your shoulder to lead you away to somewhere else within the camp, Tsu’tey feels his tail whip around his ankles in aggravation.

I will try again, He thinks wildly as he turns back around to stare unseeingly at the practicing warriors in front of him. And this time I will not fail to impress.

Now that Tsu’tey has reached the decision to court you (officially), there is much to be prepared. He has never been one to take half-measures, and initiating a courtship is certainly no exception. You may not be Na’vi, but he will court you with all the respect and courtesy as he would if you were one of the People.

Part of him wonders if his decision is written across his face somehow, because the People of the village seem to know. When he begins searching for materials to make an official courting gift for you, he begins getting help from unexpected places.

Some of the children have started leaving pieces of twine and plant fibre in his treehut, and he is pleased to find that it is of good enough quality to begin weaving immediately. The old woman, A’nayla, who is the best at carving beads in the whole village, slaps his hands away impatiently when he attempts to pick out a number of beads for your gift. She directs him instead to some of her shiniest and most vibrant beads, and refuses to make any trades. A gift, she had insisted, her old face crinkling in a knowing smile as she had waved him away.

He feels supported, even more so when Neytiri visits him in his treehut one evening after dinner. It has been a few days since you visited the encampment, but Tsu’tey is determined to have everything in good order before he approaches you in earnest.

When Neytiri enters the small hut he had built in the trees when they first settled in this encampment, she takes a moment to peer around with a neutral expression.

Tsu’tey has been sitting on the woven mat in the middle of the room, but he looks up and waits for his old friend to speak.

“My Jake has told me about your intentions with the tawtute.” She says after a long moment, stepping forward and sinking down to sit in front of him with her legs crossed. “Many people speak of it in the village.”

Tsu’tey’s ear twitches at that, embarrassed, but he just focuses back on his weaving. There’s no point denying it; he does not plan on hiding it for much longer, anyway.

“Yes.” He says simply. “My first attempt was… not successful.”

Neytiri hums. He thinks he can hear an undercurrent of amusement. “Yes. I saw.”

His ears flatten in earnest at that. He had hoped that no one had witnessed that particular humiliation, but that’s no matter. People will soon forget, and he will soon have you distracted with his second (and surely more successful) attempt.

Her eyes fall on the half-finished woven piece in his hands, and she eyes it carefully. “That is too big. She is small, remember.”

“Of course I remember.” He snaps, before raising the half-finished jewelry to his face and squinting at it. “You think it will not fit?”

“Give me.” Neytiri demands, and stretches out her hand.

Tsu’tey passes it without complaint. They have known each other since birth, certainly long enough to forgo any passing formalities and niceties. He trusts Neytiri with his life, his best-friend and once-potential-mate, and he finds himself waiting with his tail curled protectively beside him as he awaits her judgment; not only on his half-finished gift, but also on his choice of a mate.

“This decision I have made,” He says suddenly. “To court the sky demon. It is madness, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Neytiri speaks with hardly a hesitation, though she doesn’t raise her eyes from his weaving. She starts picking out a loop where he had made a mistake, and begins reweaving it with deft fingers. “But I will not be the one to judge you for that.”

“And Mo’at?”

“She thinks you are a skxawng.” Neytiri says easily, “But she loves you like a son.” The next look she darts at him is quick and sharp out of the corner of her eye. “Out of everyone in the village, your heart was the most firmly closed against the Sky People. Does that not make it all the more meaningful, that you have chosen a sky person as your mate?”

Tsu’tey is silent. He used to think that he knew exactly how his life was going to work out; he would be Olo’eyktan, he would mate with his first love Sylwanin, they would be happy and prosperous and strong together. But that future evaporated like mist before his eyes; not all at once, but gradually, until he could barely see the vapours. His reality is very different now; he clings almost desperately to the idea of you. There have been many people that Tsu’tey has not been strong enough to protect, but you are so small and soft – you need protecting more than anyone he’s ever known, and he’s determined not to let you down.

“She will accept,” Tsu’tey murmurs, before casting an uncertain glance in Neytiri’s direction. “Do you think so?”

“I see her look at you.” Neytiri murmurs back, her mouth curving. “She will accept.”

That brings a rush of relief so sudden and unexpected that Tsu’tey feels it like a physical blow. He keeps his head bowed in the hopes that it will not be so obvious, and hums absently as though he’s only half listening. It’s not enough to convince Neytiri, but he hopes that it works to recoup at least some of his pride.

“You have redecorated.” Neytiri comments, though her eyes stay focused on fixing the small section of the necklace that Tsu’tey had messed up. “Your kelku is inviting.”

That pleases Tsu’tey, and he sits up straighter. Decorating has never been a strong suit of his, and it presented more of a challenge than he had initially anticipated to decorate in such a way that it would appeal to a human. He knows you are very interested in the plants of his planet, considering the amount of time you spend studying them, so he has effectively cushioned the rough wooden walls and floors with softer wide leaves. From the ceiling hangs intense blue eanean flowers and hippophae leaves, lending a soft phosphorescent glow to the small space.

“Humans are weak,” Tsu’tey grunts. “Soft bones, fragile skin. She needs soft surroundings, too.”

Neytiri hums her agreement, before finally lifting her head. In her hands, the knot in the half-finished necklace has been unpicked and resolved. She hands it back, and Tsu’tey takes it cautiously into his hands before peering carefully at her work. Her hands are far more practiced in the art of weaving than his; she has done a wonderful job.

“Thank you.” He says quietly. He is appreciative on several levels; for her weaving, for her company, for her support.

She seems to pick up on what he isn’t saying, as usual. “You should approach her again soon. My Jake says that she is sad – she thinks she has upset you, and that you are angry with her.”

Tsu’tey raises his head sharply at that. He’s not sure if he’s more displeased at the idea that you are upset or the fact that you have apparently been confiding in Jakesully. It is difficult to push past the feeling that you should be confiding in him, that he should be the person offering you comfort. But how could you approach him when he was part of the problem?

“I will find her tomorrow.” He decides. The thought of him losing his chance is sickening – he can’t afford to wait until everything is perfectly prepared. He will just have to do his best with what he’s got so far.

Neytiri grins at him, her lips peeling back of her teeth in a way that is both joyful and intimidating.

“Sìltsan tìtaron.” She says, and Tsu’tey finds himself grinning back without conscious thought.

It is a customary saying in their tribe, used for both chasing prey and courting mates. Good hunting.

When the next day dawns, Tsu’tey curses himself for feeling nervous.

The last time he felt this way was the night before his iknimaya, when he was a fledgling warrior. Even then, he was so confident, his ego inflated by the simple fact that he had never experienced a loss before.

This time is different. He finds himself anxious in a way that he is utterly unused to experiencing, and it makes him bare his teeth in frustration as he bounds down from his treehut into the village properly. It is already a hive of activity, and the familiar buzz of conversation and laughter eases some of the tension out of his shoulders.

He will take this slow, he’s already decided. Slow and careful.

The thought of you refusing him is something that he can’t bring himself to consider; he needs to show you that he is strong, that he is thoughtful and caring, that he can provide for you and keep you safe and make you happy. He has to convince you that there is no one who can care for you better than he can.

Finding you is easy enough; the human scientists that have remained on the planet follow a routine, and you are no different. Besides, as some of the children in the village tell him, you have been lingering close to the village for days now. Ostensibly you are studying the plantlife, but Tsu’tey knows that you have likely been waiting to catch a glimpse of him. The realisation has a hollow feeling of guilt gnawing at his stomach, but he tries to push it aside – he will apologise soon.

He finds you in the forest, only a little while outside of the village. You are not alone; as is standard procedure, you are accompanied by three other scientists and a dreamwalker.

Norm is as awkward as ever in his Avatar state, discussing whatever he is reading from his demon technology with wide eager eyes. Tsu’tey is familiar with Norm now, mostly against his will – Jakesully is fond of the scientist, and he has been invited to take part in village life on several occasions. Tsu’tey will begrudgingly admit that the dreamwalker is respectful of Na’vi life and culture and he has come to accept his presence both on his planet and around his people, but seeing him around you is making him fidgety.

One of the scientists is armed (and the sight of the gun makes his skin itch from the memory of bullets tearing flesh) and Norm is at least Na’vi-sized, but that is the extent of the protection they have brought. Tsu’tey’s fingers twitch. It is not enough. You are so small and fragile, entirely unsuited for his world. Don’t you know that? Don’t you know how dangerous it is to be out here like this with so little to protect you?

You’re so preoccupied with the helicoradian you’re studying that you don’t seem to notice anything else around you. Your head is bowed, your eyes bright and shiny with interest as you inspect the orange pigment dusting the leaves.

The dappled light that filters through the trees casts shadowy patterns across your face in a way that is nearly mesmerising, and he ends up staring at you for a longer moment than he had originally intended. You are strange-looking and alien to him, and yet his fingers itch with the desire to touch you.

Tsu’tey leaps from the branch he had been watching you from, and lands neatly on the balls of his feet. His movements are nearly soundless, and none of the humans raise their heads. They don’t seem to sense his appearance at all.

His brow furrows in dissatisfaction. Anything could creep up on you, and you would not see it coming until it was too late.

He reaches out one leg and steps purposely on a twig. The snap is resounding, and the man with the gun whirls around and hoists the weapon higher, aiming at Tsu’tey’s chest.

He just bares his teeth in warning.

“No!” You yelp, throwing your hands up as soon as you realise what’s happening. “Don’t shoot him!”

Despite the situation, he’s sure that he looks quite smug. It feels good to experience you standing up for him, even if he doesn’t really need it – he could knock this puny little gun-toting tawtute into the dirt with a single backhand if he wished, though he refrains. He’s trying to be on his best behaviour.

“Fuck!” The little man yells, clearly spooked. “What does he want?”

That makes you falter, and you look up at him with uncertainty. It seems like you’re waiting for an explanation as well. All of the scientists are silent are apprehensive, eyeing him cautiously as they wait to see what he’s going to do. Their eyes linger around the knife strapped to his waist and the longbow strung over his shoulders.

Norm is looking at him with raised eyebrows, his ears perked up. Judging by his expression, Tsu’tey assumes that Norm has guessed exactly what he’s doing here.

“I wish to speak with you,” He tells you in Na’vi – he knows that some of the other scientists will be able to interpret his words, but it brings an illusion of privacy all the same.

You blink, but hesitate. When you don’t agree immediately, Tsu’tey feels his ears pin back. Your uncertainty is surely a bad sign for him – has he misjudged how upset you were?

He turns to the other humans and narrows his eyes at them. “Leave.”

They burst into motion satisfyingly quickly. The moron with the gun looks as though he is about to start arguing, but Norm hooks the long fingers of his demon body into the back of his collar and tugs him away. For once, the scientist is not being a nuisance.

You’re still standing there, turning to stare in apparent bewilderment at your comrades, who are practically fleeing. “What-”

“Come.” Tsu’tey says. Now that it’s just the two of you, he loses some of the edge in his voice.

When he turns away and begins to lead you into the forest, you follow after him without complaint. Out of the corner of his eye, Tsu’tey can see you twisting your hands nervously. Your clear anxiety has him frowning – he wants you to be comfortable with him, not on edge.

Once he’s determined that you’re both far enough away from the other humans that they could not hear you, he turns to you. You’re already looking at him, fingers twisting as you bite at your lip.

Calm and steady, Tsu’tey thinks to himself. Just apologise for ignoring her.

Apologising does not come easy to him, but he rolls his shoulder and takes a breath before opening his mouth.

“I’m sorry!” You blurt before he can make even a sound.

That throws him, and he ends up staring at you with his mouth ajar for a long moment like an absolute moron. Why are you apologising? This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

“I didn’t mean to get sick,” You continue, a little desperately, “I really did appreciate your hunting, it was very impressive and the meat was very nice, I swear I didn’t mean to come across as ungrateful-”

Oh no, are those tears he sees shining in your eyes?

Tsu’tey feels as though he’s been frozen in place. He knows that his face is stuck in a confused scowl, but he can’t soften his expression no matter how hard he tries. Panic starts to curdle in his stomach. He may be a seasoned warrior, fearless in the face of fearsome opponents, but he finds himself at a total loss in this situation.

You just keep going – his silence seems to be making you even more upset. “I never meant to offend you, and I’m so, so sorry if I have. I never meant to make you angry-”

Finally, Tsu’tey manages to find his voice. “I am not angry.”

Even he has to admit that he doesn’t sound particularly convincing, but he’s never been an eloquent person. How does he explain that he’s not angry at you, he’s frustrated with himself? Right now, with you staring up at him with your eyelashes all wet and clumped together as your lower lip trembles, he feels like kicking his own ass.

He needs to make his move now, he realises wildly. Be conciliatory, he thinks. Let her know you are interested.

His voice sticks in his throat, but he manages to push the words out. They come out slightly strangled, but semi-confident all the same.

“Would you like to come fishing?”

You hesitate, and Tsu’tey feels his heart seize in his chest – you’re not going to turn him down, are you?

“Would I-” You begin, face crumpling. “What?”

Despite all the similarities in your bodies and faces, Tsu’tey finds himself floundering when it comes to reading your expressions. Is that disappointment? Confusion? Anger? It’s so difficult to tell with your tiny blunt ears and lack of a tail.

“Fishing.” He repeats. His own tail lashes restlessly, the only part of his body that moves at all. “Come and watch me fish.”

It doesn’t come out quite as smoothly as he had planned in his head the night before, sounding a little more like an order than an invitation, but Tsu’tey thinks it’s a victory just to get the words out at all.

You look a little lost, but you nod all the same. Your tears are blinked away, your expression smoothing a little. Is Tsu’tey imagining it, or do you look hopeful?

“I- alright.” You swallow, and your hands reach up to tug at your hair in what appears to be a compulsive sort of movement. “Yes. Fishing. Right.”

Tsu’tey barely stifles his reaction. A success. He can’t stop his ears from pricking up, but otherwise he tries to appear neutral – he doesn’t want to scare you off.

“Come then.”

Just like before, you follow him readily through the jungle. He is careful to keep his back to you – it is a display of trust, to show off his conviction that you will do him no harm. It is mostly symbolic in your case, considering that you are unlikely to cause him any real harm even if you wanted to, but he is determined to carry out these courting rituals correctly even if the rest of this courtship is unconventional.

His ears are pricked the whole time for signs of danger or any other signs of life approaching, and to ensure that you are close behind as the two of you make your way towards the river winding towards the Omaticaya stronghold.

“You don’t have a fishing rod.” You say when you both finally reach the river.

Tsu’tey has no idea what you’re talking about, but it sounds as though you’re doubting his ability to fish.

He frowns, turning to squint at you – is this a challenge? Do you require him to prove his prowess right away? Displays of physical prowess and skill are part of the courting process, but he had thought that he had already done that with the hunt you had witnessed. But then again, the meat from the prey of that particular hunt had made you sick – perhaps you had decided not to count that hunt as an official courting display.

You stare back at him, looking perfectly innocent, if a little confused.

Fine. Tsu’tey straightens his back, and pulls his bow from his back. If it’s a display of prowess that you want, that’s what you’ll get.

In one smooth movement, he draws, nocks, and looses an arrow. It lands true, hitting home in the sleek, smooth body of a large fish that has just darted out from behind a stone lodged in the riverbank.

You let out a startled sort of sound, but lean forward quickly as Tsu’tey strides into the water and reaches for his catch. He had been planning on drawing this fishing display out a little longer, but it seems that you’re a demanding little thing. He doesn’t mind that; if anything, it will make satisfying you all the more exciting.

He retrieves his catch and holds it up for you to see. The fish is a large one, and it glints in the sweet sunshine that streams through the canopy of trees above you. It is a catch to be proud of, but he is careful not to be too pleased with himself until you react.

You laugh at the sight of the smooth glinting silver surface of his catch, clapping your hands together.

“Oh!” You call out, and you sound delighted. “Amazing! You make it look so easy!”

The praise sends a pleasant warmth effusing through his chest, and he feels a slow, hesitant grin begin to spread across his face.

“I am good at providing.” He tells you earnestly, stepping forward. He snaps off the long shaft of the arrow before proffering the fish towards you for your inspection.

You glance down, still smiling, but you don’t look particularly closely at his catch. That dulls some of his satisfaction – he glances down at the fish himself, wondering if there was something about it you found lacking.

“I know.” You murmur, tilting your head as you gaze up at him with lidded eyes. “You’re strong.”

His ears twitch like a child’s, and he nods, pleased. Hearing those words coming from the person he has chosen as a prospective mate fills him with a type of excitement that he has never experienced before. As a tawtute, you cannot connect with Eywa or with the People; but in this moment, Tsu’tey feels as though you see him anyway.

He swallows, and sets his catch aside in the pouch at his waist. He feels flustered in a way that is entirely unlike him, and he has to push his reactions down deep. He doesn’t want you to think of him as a silly little youngling – he wants you to see that he has taken this decision to court you seriously.

Time for the next step.

“We are close to an area where the Tsahìk gathers her herbs for medicine,” He says, clearing his throat as he turns to look at you with wide, earnest eyes. “I have offered to collect some for her. Would you like to help?”

Plants have always fascinated you – he knows that the original reason that you came to his planet was to study the wildlife and the flora. He waits, hoping that he’s right in thinking that this is something you will enjoy.

Your strange, sweet little face brightens. “Really?”

Tsu’tey nods, relieved by your reaction. “You would like this?”

“Yes!” You breathe. For the first time since he had approached you, you relax in earnest and Tsu’tey finds himself mirroring you.

He reaches out and cups your elbow as he helps you step over a log, and he doesn’t miss the little shiver and quick glance that you send towards his hand where it’s wrapped around your arm. It seems like you’re just as taken with the size difference between you as he is, and his lips begin to curl in excitement at the realisation.

This is good, He thinks, biting at the inside of his cheek. He is very slow to remove his hand, and you make no move to shake him off. Very good.

Tsu’tey does not want to speak too soon, but he feels as though his courting attempts are going very well indeed.

You had loved gathering the medicinal herbs with him, even more than he had hoped – you had badgered him with questions, curious about the names of the plants and their properties and their appearances, and you had bounded along at his side with a bright grin the whole time. It had pleased him greatly to experience your interest in the ways of the Omaticaya and the life of his planet; it was proof that you could be taught, that you were willing to learn.

And most thrillingly of all, you were receptive to his advances. Over the next couple of days, he continues with his cautious attempts at approaching you with little gestures.

When he gives you flowers and pretty leaves, you take them with brilliant, near-blinding smiles. Every time he shows off by flexing or practicing wrestling with the other warriors, you watch with interested eyes and tiny smiles. Whenever he tentatively touches you, small brushes to your shoulders or hands or waist, you never flinch away – on several occasions, you lean into him.

He tries not to let it go to his head, but it’s difficult. Since he’s started to admit his urges and his attraction to you, he swears it’s gotten worse. It feels like all he thinks about is you. He’s distracted during training, during his duties, during meals. He thinks about your reactions to his offerings, to your smiles, your scent, your voice. It really does feel like an illness, but it’s one he’s beginning to come to terms with if it means having you close by.

It’s beginning to get more difficult to keep his hands to himself. Traditionally, at this point in a courtship it would be acceptable for a courting pair to exchange flirtatious touches and other little intimacies, but Tsu’tey is aware that this is not exactly a conventional courtship.

He’s trying to be careful, to avoid spooking you or making you uncomfortable or uneasy, but it’s beginning to wear on him. Though he’s getting bolder with his little touches, it’s not enough to quench the skin-hunger growing in him.

But no matter. The courtship is going well, and moving at a good pace. The next step is one of the most important ones.

His carefully woven courtship necklace has been completed. It is customary to present a potential mate with a statement piece of jewelry, and Tsu’tey has spent several late nights fussing over the finishing touches. He recognises on some level that he’s stalling; it’s not in his nature to be nervous, but he’s beginning to grow nearly obsessive about getting the necklace as perfect as possible. It has been crafted to fit you exactly, with fibres and beads selected by him personally based on what he thinks you would like and what he thinks would suit your features.

The finished product is eye-catching, and Tsu’tey feels nearly delirious at the thought of it decorating your neck.

He crushes any semblance of nerves as best as he can, just like he might have done before a big hunt.

Of course you will accept his mating advances. Why wouldn't you? He is a strong warrior, a protector, desired by a great number of women. He could likely pick any woman he wanted out of the available women in the clan, and they would be honoured. Why would you be any different? You may be difficult to read at times, but he has laid his intentions out loud and clear and you have not shied away. You would accept him.

His mating necklace for you feels like it’s weighing him down as he steps through the village. It’s tucked safely into the pouch at his waist, though his hand keeps drifting to his hip to check that it’s still there. He’s not unaware of the looks he gets as he makes his way towards the edge of the encampment, but he ignores them. No doubt many of his people have guessed at what he’s up to, but he can’t give them his attention right now; he’s too focused on you, now that he spots you sitting next to one of the large pxiut trees.

Your head is bowed over your silly little notebook, lost entirely in your own world. Tsu’tey’s steps slow as he approaches you, taking the opportunity to drink in the sight of you while you’re unaware of his gaze.

His eyes track over the curves of your strange features, the slope of your alien nose, the arch of your neck. Your features may be exotic, but he’s finally beginning to admit to himself what he’s been trying to deny for a while now – you’re attractive to him.

He likes your weird little face, your odd five-fingered hands, your thick silly accent when you speak his language. He likes that you are so much smaller than him, he likes that you are soft.

He appreciates that you are patient with him, too. He knows he can be gruff and surly, and most people find him off-putting or intimidating, especially when they don’t know him. But you – you’re so calm and sweet, and you never seem to care when he’s stoically silent beside you. Most of the time when he’s around you, most of his brain-power goes into trying to keep his hands to himself, and he doesn’t have much intellectual power left to attempt conversation. He’s content with simply listening to you about whatever it is you wish to talk about, occasionally chiming in to ask a question or just to hum gently to show you he’s listening.

As he watches, you shift where you’re sitting and reach up to scratch absently at your neck. Beneath your odd human garments, your skin is glowing lightly with a thin sheen of sweat. Tsu’tey finds his eyes tracking over your exposed skin like a moron, and he clenches his jaw as he pulls himself together.

You're a warrior, you're a warrior, you’re a warrior, he chants in his head. He would not be cowed or intimidated by a tiny human.

You raise your head as he approaches, and a smile unfolds across your face. Your expression is bright, full of pure innocent happiness just to see him. He wavers, and nearly turns right back around.

“Hey, big guy.” You call out, setting your notebook aside as you beam at him.

You’re waiting for him to join you, he realises. He jolts forward, his previously confident stride turning a little jerky under your sharp eyes.

“Hello, little demon.” He murmurs, keeping his voice low and level.

You bite at your lip, still watching him with that little smile on your face. He watches you back just as closely, even as he sinks down to sit next with you. Your smile melts into a little look of surprise; usually, when he comes to you it’s so he can invite you somewhere else, either to show you something or to give you something. Joining you as you just sit is new for both of you.

For a moment, you’re both quiet. It seems like you’re waiting on him to speak, but he stays silent. He’s trying to compose himself, to appear cool and calm as he reaches his hand towards the woven bag slung around his waist.

Finally, he says, “I have something for you.”

It comes out impressively calm and level. While he’s not a man prone to nerves or to doubting himself, this is entirely new territory for him. When your expression brightens into a look of excitement, he feels a new little seed of confidence build in his chest. You’re anticipating his gift, you want it.

When he slips his hand into his bag, you sit up onto your knees so that you can watch him. Over the last few weeks, you’ve gotten used to receiving little flowers, plants, beads, or little carved figures. You accept each one with your usual brilliant, sweet smile; the thought of how you may smile at him when he gives you the necklace makes Tsu’tey’s tail flick eagerly.

He pulls it carefully out and hands it to you. As you take it your fingers brush his, and he twitches slightly as he stares at how small your hands are next to his.

“Oh,” You breathe, lifting up the necklace to eye level so you can get a good look at it. “I… Really? For me?”

“Yes.” He says simply, his eyes sharp and alert as they drink in every minute flicker that crosses your face. What are you thinking?

“It…” You begin, and then pause. Tsu’tey is just beginning to feel like crawling out of his skin when you slowly continue. “Tsu’tey, it’s beautiful.”

You so rarely say his name, choosing instead to call him variations of big guy, and he feels a near physical jolt run down his spine at the sound of it in your mouth. He wants to hear you say it again.

He just hums, still watching your face. You are examining the necklace intently, fingering the beads and the weavework, and he feels his pride inflate the longer you inspect his work. You are giving real, earnest thought to his offering rather than simply making your decision rashly. He respects this, and revels under the careful consideration you’re giving his proposal.

“You like it?” He murmurs. His voice comes out rougher than he had intended, and you jerk your head up to look at him.

Like this, your faces are very close together. Tsu’tey had leaned closer unconsciously as you were examining the necklace, and he makes no attempt to back off. Likewise, you make no attempt to retreat either, blinking up at him from behind the odd clear surface of your bubble-like mask.

“Yes,” You whisper, a shy, cautious smile beginning to bloom across your face. “Did you make this yourself?”

Tsu’tey just huffs. What sort of fool wouldn’t make their mating offering themselves?

“Of course.”

“Oh.” You bite at your lip. You seem to be trying to suppress your smile, though he can’t imagine why. He wants to see it, now more than ever.

You are certainly not racing to give him an answer. Your fingers trace over the beads, taking your time to admire the craftsmanship. Your obvious appreciation is certainly inflating his ego, but the longer you go without giving him a firm answer, the more agitated he gets. He hides it as best as he can, aiming to appear cool and unflappable. He is a warrior – he doesn’t want you to think of him as someone who is easily ruffled.

When you finally turn to look up at him, your eyes are shining. He can’t help but sit up a little straighter, watching you very carefully as he awaits your decision.

You proffer the necklace back to him, and Tsu’tey feels his stomach positively plummet. He truly hadn’t considered what he would do if you refused him.

“Will you help me put it on?” You ask, a little shyly.

The relief nearly bowls him over. Tsu’tey swears his stomach jolts so violently that he nearly makes a truly undignified sound. You are not refusing him – you wish for assistance.

“Yes.” He says lowly and seriously, taking the necklace back.

You beam again, then turn your back to him and bow your head to give him access to your neck. Tsu’tey’s heart thumps dully in his chest at the display of trust and vulnerability, though he keeps his face carefully still.

As he reaches out and slips the necklace around your neck, he gives in to his weakness and allows his fingers to drift over your shoulder. Your skin is so soft, your frame lacking the lean hard musculature that is so common among his own people, and he allows himself a moment to admire the feeling of you beneath his hands before finally beginning to tie the two ends of the necklace together.

He can feel you breathing carefully beneath his hands, the steady rise and fall of your chest matching the thumping rhythm of his own heart. The blood is rushing through his ears as his knuckles brush over one of the knobs of your spine at the base of your neck and you shiver in response.

Success, his instincts are screaming at him. Success.

When he finally pulls his hands back, you turn to look at him through your eyelashes behind your breathing mask. The corner of his mouth twitches as he eyes the way the necklace sits above your collarbones; a perfect fit.

It probably goes without saying that you have accepted his advances, but the customs of the Sky People are odd and he wants to make certain.

“You accept, then?” He asks, reaching out and settling his fingers over the woven fibres of the necklace. You’re small under his hand – his fingers reach one of your shoulders and his palm reaches the other, dwarfing you.

Your head tilts, a little frown creasing your brow, before you smile and nod. “Of course I accept it. It’s very lovely. I’m honoured. I didn’t know that you made your own jewelry.”

The last piece of mating jewelry he had crafted had been a bracelet for Sylwanin. It’s not something that he wants to think about right now, so he shrugs roughly.

“I do not, usually. This is different.”

“Oh.” You say, a little breathlessly.

Tsu’tey’s tail twitches recklessly. It’s time for the next step.

“I would take you to my hut.” He begins cautiously, watching your face. “It is finished now. I have made it comfortable.”

You blink, and take a careful breath. He wonders what you’re thinking.

“I would like that.” You say quietly, your eyes drifting towards his tail, which is twitching as he awaits your answer.

Triumph soars in his chest, and a slow smile begins to spread over his face. This feels better than any hunt, any accolade, any success he has previously enjoyed. This one is his and his alone – you see him, you want to be his just as he wants to be yours.

You appear to get flustered, and look down at his twitching tail in an apparent effort to distract yourself. You watch the movement, your own lips beginning to curve, before you reach out to touch it.

Tsu’tey goes entirely still, his eyes flaring wider in surprise. He doesn’t pull away, watching intently as your fingers trail over the thin, sensitive skin of his tail. It is bold of you, so bold it nearly steals his breath away.

“You’re like a cat.” You say, and laugh.

Tsu’tey has no idea what that means, and just continues to stare at you. You’re still holding his tail in your warm, soft hand. The fact that he isn’t pulling away seems to embolden you even more, before you start to bite your lip as you look up at him.

Tsu’tey takes a soft, quiet breath – do you even know what you’re doing to him right now? Desire is beginning to pool, dark and hot, in his belly as your fingers stroke absently over the thin skin of his tail, your liquid eyes gazing up at him with that shy, enigmatic little smile playing over your face.

Slow and steady, he tells himself firmly, fighting to stay composed. He doesn’t want to scare you away by moving too quickly, but your soft warm hands and sweet little smiles are making it terribly difficult. He wants to touch you back, but he doesn’t want to startle you.

“Sorry,” You murmur, apparently growing self-conscious. You begin to pull back. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You may touch me.” He interrupts before you pull too far back. He has been intimate with women before, but this moment with you feels infinitely more intimate and illicit than anything he has experienced before.

You watch him in return, eyes bright. Is he imagining the excitement on your face, mirroring his own feelings?

Slowly, you trace up his tail. His skin shivers under your touch, but he doesn’t pull away. In fact, he leans in a little closer as your fingers move from his tail to his chest, tracing over the lighter stripes on his skin. It feels as though your touch is leaving trails of heat in its wake, and he fights to keep his breathing steady and even as your eyes follow the path of your fingers.

His own fingers twitch, but he keeps his hands to himself. He wants to give this to you, to allow you the opportunity to be in charge of this moment. You’ve always been curious, and watching you exploring his own body only stokes his desire – but he holds back. He will be patient, and he will take this slow. He wants to do this whole thing right.

Your fingers trail down over the defined muscles of his abdomen, and he flexes entirely on instinct. You must like what you see, because your smile turns bashful as you trace your way around his waist.

He’s so preoccupied with watching your face that he doesn’t watch where your hands go next. It means that he is taken entirely by surprise when he feels your delicate, small fingers wrap around his kuru.

His back goes ramrod straight, his eyes flaring wide in shock. It was an innocent touch, only wrapping around the protective braid curiously, but the sheer fact that his prospective mate, wearing the mating gift he had made, holds the most intimate and sacred part of him in their hands has his toes curling into the dirt where you sit.

A jolt of pure, liquid elation jolts down his spine. No partner of his has ever touched his kuru – it was saved specifically for a mate. And though you may not be capable of making tsaheylu with him, the sheer sensation of you holding this sacred part of him nearly makes his vision white out.

“Oh!” He hears your voice say as though from a distance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep-!”

He’s sure his pupils are blown wide, his ears alert and hot. He wants to reassure you that your overstep is most welcome, but it feels as though his brain has half-melted.

“Tsu’tey?”

He comes back to himself, though his thoughts are still scattered. As he regains some of his awareness, he realises that his desire is beginning to grow obvious beneath his loincloth.

Fuck. He was meant to be taking it slow! He couldn’t invite you to his hut and then grow so visibly aroused in front of you; it was not honourable, and he did not want you to feel pressured.

He lurches backwards, nearly sprawling in the dirt. It’s a graceless movement, ungainly and unlike him, but then again all of this is entirely outside of his realm of experience.

You’re staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, your hand still raised in midair.

“I have to go.” He says sharply, pushing himself to his feet. It’s all he can think to do to preserve both of your dignities before he ruins his careful courtship plans with his own reckless desires.

“But-” You start, your face crumpling. “Am I still invited-”

“I must go,” He repeats, hastily angling himself so that you can’t see his front.

He takes several firm steps away before hesitating, then turns back to look at you. “Tomorrow. You may come back tomorrow.”

You still look utterly bewildered, but Tsu’tey hurries away all the same. As he goes, he adjusts his tewng as surreptitiously as possible.

Despite his tactical retreat, he feels more optimistic than he has in a long time. As he approaches the village he feels a feral triumphant grin begin to grow over his face. That likely could have gone smoother at the end, but overall he finds himself feeling impossibly pleased with himself.

He has succeeded at his attempt at courting a human, and he has done so without Jakesully’s help. You have accepted all his gifts, you agreed to come and see his hut, and judging by the way you had groped at his tail and his kuru, physical attraction certainly wouldn’t be a problem for either of you.

It has left him excited for tomorrow, and yearning for more of your soft little hands against his skin.

#tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey imagines #tsu'tey #avatar 2 #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi x human #alien x human #avatar 2009 #terato

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islandofsages · 4 months

Note

Hello, can i ask for Octavinelle dorm with Octavinelle! M! reader?

He's a really chill and silly guy but somehow crazy good with money and business. Like, if you give him 10 bucks and tell him to do whatever he wants with it and come back with 100 bucks, he'll somehow come back with 10000 bucks and become the CEO of some company. And, yeah, he's got these goofy ideas that somehow just work.

characters: the octavinelle boys x male octavinelle reader

tags: relationship not specified, crack (?), imagines format

warnings: a bit of swearing (just one word really)

author's notes: i love yall yall's readers are so goofy they're so fun to write

Azul Ashengrotto

He appreciates how you’re one of the more level-headed guys around, though if only you could lay off the joking and teasing

But as long as you don’t cause him trouble he doesn’t mind you as much - and you end up proving to him that you are the very opposite

One day, he asks you to run him a errand (with fair compensation, of course; he is the soul of benevolence after all)

It’s quite simple - fetch him a sum of money Sam owes the Mostro Lounge (you don’t question how and why a fully-grown adult owes a seventeen year old money)

And so you go over to Sam’s. You won’t lie, you’re a little curious of what this debt entails. You’ll see if you can squeeze some details out of Sam

You meet up with Sam, all smiles as per usual. Though when you mention that you’re there because of the debt, he takes you into the shop’s backroom instead

He gives you an envelope, stuffed with the goods no doubt. He seems insistent on not letting on anything - but then you hit him with a classic move

“Now, now, we’re not in a rush, are we? I don’t even work for the Mostro Lounge. Least you can do is entertain a guy. I’ll keep my lips sealed.”

Sweet-talk and half-truths are a way to a salesman's heart after all. It’s true that you don’t work for Azul but that’s only because you have other businesses going on right now

Sam gives in with a sigh. It seems as if he’s been carrying such a secret for a while and needs an outlet. And you are definitely here for it

You come back to Octavinelle, skipping merrily (if not physically, at least you were on cloud nine mentally) and carrying more than just an envelope. Azul, on the other hand, is borderline seething for whatever reason. Little does he know

The moment you reach his office, you toss him the envelope and is about to leave - until he sees not one but the two enormous bags you carried in your hands that are definitely filled with money

Distraught, he questions you on how the hell you manage to score that much money. You shrug while walking towards the exit. It's just a matter of persuasion and creative thinking.

Business is so easy, you thought.

Jade Leech

Similar to Azul, it’s nice to have someone who has their shit together - plus, he finds it amusing when you mess with Azul. It reminds him of Floyd’s antics

Once in a while, you’re a pleasant guy to just sit down and have small talk with, though at times he wishes you would let on about yourself more

For his information, you only let slip when you want to; and he finds that out himself one fateful day

He jokes that if there’s anyone who could overpower Azul and steal his authority over the Mostro Lounge, it’d be you. You chuckle knowingly at this

Feeling a little playful, you propose to him a bet - if you manage to do so by next week, he owes you ten thaumarks. But if you don’t, you owe him ten thaumarks

He lets out a carefree laugh, amused. He reserves his assumptions and agrees to play along with you for the next few days

He doesn’t see you in a while. Not intentionally - he genuinely can’t find you anywhere, though he only attributes it to the fact that there’s only so much time he can use to look for you

After a whole week has passed, he seats himself where the bet initially took place and waits patiently for you to show up. True to your promise, you come waltzing up to him casually, your hands in your pockets and a friendly smile on your face

You slide next to him as he asks you how’ve you been and the two of you update each other on your wellbeing. Then he starts chuckling, a hand over his mouth in true Jade fashion. You smirk in response, knowing too well what that chuckle is for

And in true you fashion, you pull out ten thaumarks and extend them to him

…wait a minute. That’s ten thousand thaumarks.

You savor the sight of a Jade with his mouth agape. You snicker at his bewilderment as he tries to process what’s happening in front of him

“It’s true that I didn’t usurp Azul’s power or anything - but that’s only because I’m not interested in the Mostro Lounge. I’d rather have it as a rival than my property.”

After he gets over his initial shock, he offers you a sinister, toothy grin. You respond with a finger to your lips. He nods understandingly and takes the money from you with no protest.

Floyd Leech

You’re more low-key compared to him but he still appreciates having a fellow pain-in-Azul’s-ass

Of course, it depends on his mood still, but his tolerance of you is pretty consistent despite everything. You take it as a compliment

On one of his good-mood days, he’s chatting it up with you and laying out potential ways to mess with Azul more. You bring your own idea to the table

“How about this? I get a common word used by literally everyone trademarked and anyone who dares utter it has to pay me. And that includes Azul himself.”

He guffaws at your ridiculous idea and voices his opinion. You laugh yourself and don’t deny it. It is pretty far-fetched… but you have your ways

Plus, he has to admit that would piss off Azul super bad it’d be worth the trouble

The two of you hang out from time to time as usual when behind it all, you’re setting up Azul’s eventual downfall

Or not. You don’t actually care about taking Azul down but it would be pretty funny. Also you’ll get to impress Floyd in some shape or form which you care more about frankly

Once the deed is done, it’s announced everywhere you could think of - you did it under a fake name of course. But the money you’ll be getting can’t be any more real

What did you trademark? The word “so”.

When you relay this story to Floyd, he lets out a howl of a laugh you could’ve mistaken him for a wolf - he has no idea what strings you had to pull to actually manage that but color him entertained

…until he realizes that he’d also have to pay you every time he uses that word. Then his mood goes down instantly

You shrug that realization off by giving him a pass since he let you entertain the idea in the first place.

Floyd happy again :)

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #platonic twst x reader #platonic twisted wonderland x reader #twst x male reader #twisted wonderland x male reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x male reader #jade leech x male reader #floyd leech x male reader #octavinelle

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cpunkhobie · 8 months

Text

I appreciate everyone giving their opinions on tmnt's racism, but I don't need 50 people going "it wasn't intentional." 1st of all:

2nd of all:

IT DOESNT FUCKING MATTER. I do not CARE if it was intentional or not. I do not GIVE A FUCK about the intentions of the creators or if they meant for it to be racist. The individual biases of a person DOESNT MATTER HERE. IT DOES NOT !!!!!!!!!

This is about a systemic and culture-wide issue with anti-asian stereotypes in media, and how baked into western pop-culture orientalism is for these stereotypes to be SO EASILY applied to the most popular franchises today. And if it's unintentional, THEN THAT JUST PROVES MY FUCKING POINT!!!!!!

If people don't even have to think about the stereotypes they're applying to Asian American characters, or Asian characters in general, if this racism is just happening UNCONSCIOUSLY. THATS THE FUCKING PROBLEM!

If these movies and games and tv shows go through dozens or hundreds of people, and not one person with any kind of power over the final result goes "hey, this seems like a stereotype or borderline caricature, or just outright racist." That's is the problem! How normalized these stereotypes are, to the point where they are unintentionally put in so much media where an Asian American character is present. It doesn't matter if it's intentional!

The amount of Asian Americans, and I'm not just talking about East Asian's here - West Asian, South East Asians, South Asians, how many times do you think people have to turn a blind eye to bad-faith, misinterpretations of our cultures in our favorite shows, movies, games, books because it "wasn't intentional." I got 5 asks, in an hour, even more comments, reblogs, and tags, coming from a bunch of different Asian ethnicities about how they're so glad someone is finally talking about it. Because we just have to fucking ignore it! We just have to! Because enjoying anything popular would be almost impossible if we didn't!

Most racism, is not intentional, ITS STILL RACIST. I want to make it clear to you, this is a culture wide issue. That should be the discussion. Stop trying to baby grown-ass white adults putting racist shit in their shows because "yeah but it probably wasn't intentional." I DONT CARE!

And I HAVE PRIVILEGE IN THIS SITUATION! I'm wasian, I'm a light skinned, white passing mixed kid. I grew up in a majority Asian area. I can only imagine how much fucking harder it is to see this shit when you're maybe the only Asian person in your friend group, if you're from anywhere that isn’t Japan, Korea, or China, if you or your family are Asian immigrants, god forbid if you have an accent.

And I still getting people telling me I’m “basically Chinese” when I say I’m Taiwanese. If they even know what Taiwan fucking IS.

If your first thought seeing someone telling people to think critically about racist stereotypes is “it wasn’t intentional” and not “oh wow, these stereotypes are really baked into our culture” fucking analyze that.

Thanks for reading me fucking losing it. I’m tired.

#jonah with a megaphone #mixed kid rage #this is not a tmnt post.

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kafkasmuses · 5 months

Text

girlnextdoor

( chapter one :

studyme.png )

words: 3,525

tags: 18+!!!! mdni , camgirl ! reader , camming, sex worker ! reader , masturbation , falling in love , body worship , religious / greek imagery , voyeurism, semi ! sub coriolanus , fantasizing

p.s : this is also on my ao3! ( divider by i92-93 )

a/n : i don’t know how i managed to make this an emotional story with greek references, but i did it somehow LOLL hope u enjoy!!

PROLOGUE : COMPETITION .

festus had an irrational mouth, he had dared coriolanus to do stupid things before, like asking girls out, or to have one night stands with them. it was awful, coriolanus hated being around festus because he was like a fly buzzing around in his eardrums, circling around his head and refusing to leave no matter how many times he swipes at it. coriolanus wasn’t the only victim unfortunately, sejanus was the main one for festus, because sejanus was weak, pliant, and could easily be peer pressured into anything.

“i dare you to ask her out,” he points to a girl in the library, a girl with clemensia and arachne.

dear fucking god, save us all, this is going to be a crucification performed in the middle of the academy’s library.

“you’re joking, right?” sejanus coughs out an awkward laugh.

festus’ eyes narrow, a dangerous seriousness, “no, it’s not that hard.”

“why don’t you do it then?” coriolanus slices in the conversation.

“i have a girlfriend,” festus shrugs, “can’t.”

coriolanus barks out a bitter laugh, “who would date you?”

“okay, that’s fucking rude, and she’s hella hot, so fuck off, please,” festus rolls his eyes, “go on, sejanus!”

sejanus frowns, festus was talking so loud that the girls were now looking at them, with their judgemental, pristine stares.

so he sighs, and raises to a stand, making coriolanus’ eyebrows furrow, he knew sejanus was weak, impulsive, but not to this level, “you aren’t actually gonna do it, are you?”

“i am,” sejanus sounds confident, but he isn’t. poor, sweet sejanus.

what a trainwreck, like something you try to hard to look away from, but you just can’t. your eyes follow him as he moves over to the girls, a small smile curving his lips when he finally approaches them, an opposite to their sharp eyes. clemensia’s head tips to the side, “yes, sejanus?”

sejanus inhales, trying to remind himself that he does have a way with words, so just use that.

his eyes move down to you, “i was wondering if—“

“no,” you respond quickly.

he swallows, “okay.”

and festus is laughing, god it’s more of a cackle than a laugh.

but the girls don’t laugh, they know festus’ game, if anything they hate festus more than any of the poor boys that are dared to ask them out for dates.

“who’s your girlfriend?” coriolanus asks, having a feeling that he’s lying.

festus’ laughter immediately calms down, “she’s a pornstar, and she’s like super in love with me.”

“does she even know you exist?” coriolanus scoffs, “‘m sure she’s just doing her job.”

“shut the fuck up,” he rolls his eyes, “you’re just mad you could never get with a girl like mine.”

“let me see her,” coriolanus offers, and of course, festus pulls up a picture of a girl who hardly shows her face.

you can only see her lips, and from then on she’s in very tight and revealing clothing, coriolanus stares at the picture for a second, then looks at festus.

festus smirks cockily, “hot, right?”

hot, is that all he views his so called girlfriend as?

“you can’t even see her face,” he confronts, and festus rolls his eyes.

“that’s not the point—“

“then what is?”

“her videos, dude, they’re so good,” festus’ voice becomes a loudly hushed whisper now.

coriolanus’ jaw ticks, “you sure she even knows you?”

“okay, she doesn’t— but like—“ he groans, “why don’t you try to get her to notice you, asshole?”

“i don’t watch porn,” coriolanus shrugs simply.

festus coughs out a laugh, “yeah, say that again when you’re searching girlnextdoor tonight.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

coriolanus, in his own defense, should be saying that it was curiosity. at first it was, yes, pure innocent, unshielded curiosity. then it became what it truly was underneath all of his guards, admiration. with each video, each picture, it had his teeth gritting. he didn’t want to pay to see your exclusive content at first, but with how little you showed on every other platform, it almost felt necessary. girlnextdoor, what a peculiar name, he was itching to know more about you.

maybe it was the competition festus had set him up for that had him wanting this, coriolanus was never one for porn, or for jerking off. but god, he might now be. it was disgusting, how much his mind raced with every suggestive picture, ones where you teased the contents underneath your bra, or a video where you were taking off your panties but still showing nothing.

he went back to your original website, only to find, in bold letters, LIVE.

live? he swallows thick, cursor moving to click on the maroon enticing him.

the sight that came nearly had him clicking off almost immediately, you had been moved into a cowgirl position, riding a dildo. your moans filled his eardrums almost immediately, each whine, each movement of your hips delivering a squelching sound. he felt like a dehydrated man, throat run dry, tongue devoid of any saliva. aphrodite, in her natural habitat, sex, love, devotion, she is putting herself on display— yet with the camera placed to show everything only from below her nose, she is so hidden at the same time.

he was biting the delicate skin on the inside of his cheek, peaking near the metallic taste, but he didn’t even realize over the heat rushing to his dick. he breathed out, wondering what it would feel like if you were to be on him, with those experienced hips, that body which looks like it was crafted from the gods himself, your pussy swallowing his dick whole—

he clicks off as soon as the thought sears in his mind, he doesn’t need to be thinking of a pornstar like this.

his eyes close for a minute, and all he can see in that darkness is the shape of your body, the bucking of your hips as you ride the dildo, and he sighs.

he should sleep. it’s late.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

INTERLUDE : HAUNTED .

adoration, a statue by stephen abel sinding, made from delicate marble. it depicted a man at a woman’s feet, as she sat upon a pedestal. he was on his knees, eyes staring up at the goddess in front of him, as she sat with her back straight, eyes falling upon the man that worshipped her. he kissed her legs with care, admiration, hands slipping onto her calves as he plants his lips upon her shins. she was gorgeous above him, allowing him to take every part of her into his hold, to kiss her and devote his whole pride to her.

coriolanus swallows thick, he thought that when his eyes moved to a close, his thoughts would dissipate.

they got worse, so, so much worse. they were more vivid now, dirtier, his longing worsening.

he imagined what words would spill from your mouth as your hips swayed on him, he allowed you to take the lead, restraining himself from fucking into you like a desperate man. to be honest, he was desperate, he was needy, the feeling of your puffy walls closing in on him had him almost whimpering himself. a god is no match to his goddess, he will always fall to his knees in front of her, no matter what. coriolanus had pride, surely, but the idea of your clit rubbing against his abdomen as your hips stuttered on him had his pride becoming weak façades.

say that again when you’re searching girlnextdoor tonight.

fuck you, festus. he was the reason that coriolanus even knew this camgirl existed, the reason for the painful stains on his mind.

festus wouldn’t be so cocky if the girl he calls his girlfriend had coriolanus’ dick in her mouth.

the feeling of your mouth on his dick became vivid as well now, he could see it so clearly, your doe eyes staring up at him through those velvet lashes as your pillow lips move to press sloppy, open - mouthed kisses onto the tip of his cock. you were teasing him, surely, and he couldn’t take it. he would grit out a small plea for you to actually suck him in, and he would feel your lips curl onto his tip, “beg.”

begging, coriolanus always hated the idea of it, he thought it was weak, gross, submissive.

but in this moment, he was so clouded with lust that he didn’t care for the repercussions of a simple please.

“please, just fucking— god, i need—“ he couldn’t even get his words right, it was sweet. your eyebrow cocked at him, his piercing blue eyes staring down at you through dilated pupils and lazy lids. you finally took pity, lips parting further so your tongue could snake out and slide underneath his cock as you take him in finally. the warmth was all too much for coriolanus, wetness, warmth, his fingers move to thread through the weaves of your hair, his bottom lip falling tight underneath his top teeth.

his hips buck ever so slightly, again, desperation. you don’t react though, if anything, you just moaned around him.

no gag reflex? dear god, you’ll be coriolanus’ ruin.

god will not be present in this moment though, as though this is a reenactment of the martyrdom of saint sebastian. arrows shooting at him as he falls to his fate, he was strung up, shot with the painful spears, and left for his death. isn’t that so alike to now? festus had tied him up, fed him stories of this woman and allowed him to fall into sin, then left him for his own demise.

apples began to taste sweeter, even with their poison, as coriolanus finds his hand dipping below his waistband, his long fongers fell along his painful hardness. he mumbled a curse into the gentle air as he finally relieves himself from all of his sins, as of he’s sitting in the confessional of a church, whispering all of his sins to the judgemental priest. the scales tipped as his fingers moved to curl around his cock, fist moving up and down on his length.

the pictures continued, he thought of how he would take care of you first, now if he was the one dominating.

he would go rough, he always loved the idea of fucking someone senseless, making every vein buzz with only pleasure, mind forming thoughts solely of lust. he imagines holding you close as his fingers curl inside of you, he doesn’t push them in and out fast at first, but when your hips buck up against him— he becomes harsher, the intention of bruising your lips evident.

next, he moves to press you against the mattress, fucking you senseless into it.

he hums into the air, “ah— fuck..”

his breathing is labored, eyes scrunching shut as the pictures of your eyes rolling back becomes a mere oil painting in front of him, perched on the walls of the most pristine museums. his fingers would pass through your hair again, now the back of your head, pulling you back so your spine is flush against his chest. you’d lean back against him, melting into his skin and begging for more. surely, you had enough experience from your dildos and other sexual toys, or partners, but none of them could compare to coriolanus as his hips snap into you.

he groans into the air, seething in the pleasure, “i’ll fuck you so good..— mm.”

he moves to now fuck into his hand, imagining his hand a depiction of your velvet walls around him, clenching as you near your high.

you moan against his flesh, his fingers moving from your hair to your neck, pulling you until your flesh molds with his, adoration and lust merging you two together.

he went faster, harsher, fucking into his hand until his thighs grew sore, finally reaching his high.

he spills into his hand, sighing into the humid air.

“my god—“ he mumbles, eyes fluttering open.

what the fuck is his problem?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

INTERLUDE : DARE ME ?

“so, did you talk to her?” festus interrogates him, per usual.

coriolanus’ eyes are heavy, he hardly slept after the events of last night, “no, i didn’t.”

“fucking loser,” festus snears, “she was live last night.”

“i know,” he swallows thick, the image of you riding the dildo returning to his mind, “did you talk to her?”

“yeah,” he shrugs, cocky, again, “i’m texting her right now.”

coriolanus’ eyebrows furrow, he leans over to see festus sending a message.

a phone goes off in the library.

as soon as the message is sent.

coriolanus blinks, once, twice, “send another.”

so he does, he types out another message and send it.

the same phone goes off again, just as the message says delivered.

coincidence?

coriolanus doesn’t believe in those.

“you’re so fucking weird dude, don’t try to read my messages,” festus pushes him away.

coriolanus groans, he couldn’t care less to read festus’ messages, “are you paying her to talk to you?”

“yes, but that’s not the point—“ festus quickly tries to save himself from the humiliation.

coriolanus scoffs, “she’s not your girlfriend, you can’t even get one, like ever.”

“and what about you, virgin?” festus leans in, a smirk growing on his lips. coriolanus knows what that smirk means, it means coriolanus will soon be sealing his fate, “why don’t you try to get one?”

“i’m good,” coriolanus shrugs, “nobody’s here for you to even dare me to ask out.”

“clemensia is,” he points to the table where you and clemensia always sit at, and of course, you’re both there, “and her friend.”

“i’m not asking them out,” coriolanus moves down in his chair.

“yes you are, i dare you.”

“no, you’re so fucking stu—“

“i’m gonna tell everyone you’re a virgin.”

coriolanus’ weakness was people knowing all the humiliating things about him, one of those things was the fact that he hasn’t had sex yet. coriolanus was an attractive man, he could get women if he truly wanted to and spend his nights with them, but he refused. and that made festus’ dares easy.

coriolanus’ jaw shifts, “you’re an asshole.”

every step he takes is slow, calculated, yet confident. it’s a certain stride that coriolanus always has, where he knows what he’s doing, but unsure at the same time. especially now, especially when your hair falls off your shoulder as you turn to have your eyes fall on him, sensing his approach. maybe it was a common thing for you, knowing festus would be daring his friends to come up to you, clemensia, or arachne.

always on high alert, he assumes.

his eyes fall the exposition of your shoulder, a key to one of those tight shirts that you always wear, even when it was against dress code.

a tight skirt and a short skirt, your motto, clearly. your twist underneath the table when he stands next to your seat, close, but not enough to make you uncomfortable. one thing he does notice though, is the strap of your bra. pink? a familiar shade, and as he follows it down, he notices the lace that starts on your bra. it looks an awful lot like the bra that the camgirl wore last night, the bra that coriolanus imagined you taking off for him.

his eyes narrow, he seems distracted, and you stare at him like he’s dumb, “hello?”

his eyes snap to your face at your words, “sorry— i—“

“what? are you gonna ask me out?” god, were you always this bitchy?

“i was planning on it,” his jaw shifts, eyes dipping to the plush of your lips, coated in that sparkly, strawberry gloss you always wore, “would you have said yes?”

“no, god, what is with you assholes?” you roll your eyes, pencil tapping impatiently against the desk.

“hm, not even a study date?” his eyes trail down to the book on your desk, “i saw your score on the test last week.”

“ew, fucking creep,” you snap, “i don’t need your help.”

“you sure?” his eyebrow cocks, your no isn’t stable yet, so he’s persuasive.

“coriolanus,” clemensia cuts in, “she said no.”

“did she?” he whistles, a cocky smile curving his lips, one that you want to slap off him, “must’ve not heard that.”

“then get some hearing aids,” you laugh, “i’m not sucking your dick.”

“didn’t ask you to, but we’ll see, sweetheart.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

we’ll see. he didn’t even know where those words came from, or his cockiness, maybe it was the fact that he suspected you to be the girl he had on his mind last night. if so, then he would know things about you that many don’t, and that gives him power.

greed : an insatiable desire for material objects, wealth, and power.

coriolanus snow was a greedy man.

he kept a closer eye on you now, eyes pinning to the back of your head, memorizing the way you style your hair, so that he can see if the hair that drips off your shoulders in all of your secret videos were the same. or if your lips were as sparkly and glossed in those videos as they are in person. did you wear the same mini skirt you wore to school in your videos? that would be dirty, wouldn’t it? capitol girl, dressed in her pristine clothes as she fucks herself in front of thousands.

what a slut.

he had to figure it out, it was an untamable hunger that not even the most holy prayer could exorcize out of him. rosaries dripped around the fingers he used to curl around his cock the night before, and even in his most innocent prayers, his mind reflected back onto the idea of pulling the rosary around your neck as he fucks into you. his eyes snap open, and now just another thing that he had done so clearly before was plagued with your existence.

was this you calling out to him? beckoning him to pray for you?

if so, he might just do it, dedicate all of his rosaries to you, replace virgin mary with yourself, and look at every cross and think of you moving onto it, sliding the wood into your womanhood.

coriolanus’ throat was dry again, his own thoughts making him want to vomit.

those were the kinds of things festus would be fantasizing about, not coriolanus— and yet, here he was, on his knees, imagining you on the pedestal. your hair dips past your shoulders as you look down at him, those judgemental, buggish eyes, now bleeding onto his skull. his fingers dip behind your calves, memorizing the touch of the flesh that smoothed over muscle and bone. his eyes cascade up your legs, past your breasts, to the eyes that look down on him.

he has a certain look in his eyes, a look that is saying he’s doing this all for you. dropping his pride for you, allowing his walls to crumble for you, tarnishing his name for you. sometimes snow doesn’t land on top, sometimes it melts and becomes weak in the sky, sometimes it crumbles underneath itself.

he plants gentle kisses to your shins, admirations, soft praises and prayers.

goddess, did you hear about the man who roamed lost? the man who fell weak? tell me of his efforts, what brought him to this point, the people he met, the worlds he crossed, to now be brought to his knees in front of his muse. he was complicated, hidden, and yet you peeled him apart like a pomegranate. the juice splatters against your face as he opens himself to you, and something about it is so very special.

scratches fall down his back, and again, he’s blinking himself to reality.

his fingers on the keyboard, he finds himself at your profile once more, now beckoning you to him. a twisted game of tug - of - war, isn’t it? pieces fall into place as he clicks on the link which leads him to paying for your exclusive content.

research purposes, of course.

he spends his money so easily, he doesn’t even take a second thought to it as the page reloads with his newfound access to all your hidden secrets. his fingers pry as he pulls down the website, scrolling through each aspect that you hold in the reflections of who you really are.

a whore? no, a temptress.

he sucks in a breath at the sights of you bending over in front of the camera, fucking a dildo into yourself, or the next one of you in a missionary position with a vibrator on your clit. or the next one of you fucking a dildo between your tits. coriolanus rasps out the breath he sucked in earlier, adjusting in his seat, this wasn’t another invitation to jerk off, it was studying.

he scrolls past a few more videos and then, his eyes catch it, the skirt.

a small smile curves his lips, power.

he has it.

or so, he thinks he does, you have his money, his admiration, him on his knees, have him confused on whether or not this is truly you. skirts and coincidences don’t tell much, he just likes to jump to conclusions. the hair didn’t even match up—

so does he really have the power?

we’ll see, sweetheart.

#coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #tbosas #tom blyth #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #smut

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asdfghjklmals · 11 months

Text

IN CASE OF EMERGENCY✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. WORD COUNT: 1.3k words. TAGS: adoptedkiddo!megumi x fem guardian!oc, nothing innappropriate.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend has always been megumi's emergency phone call. AUTHOR'S NOTE: taken and inspired by the manga chapter where the kiddos spill coffee on satoru's shirt. please let me know if my tag makes sense for megumi and reader, i don't want people thinking this is is an inappropriate relationship! REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

“we are so dead”, megumi thought to himself as he stared at the coffee that was spilled on the white dress shirt in front of him. ijichi had left gojo-sensei’s brand new and freshly dry cleaned button-up shirt with them for a moment and nobara just had to spill coffee all over it.

“you’ve done it now, kugisaki.” megumi chastised her.

“this is gojo-sensei’s, right?” nobara asked her two partners, “okay, who’s really at fault here? ijichi, who entrusted us children to keep a freshly dry cleaned shirt safe… or me, who spilled a little tinsy winsy bit of coffee?”

yuji and megumi shouted in unison, “you are at fault!”

the students started to panic while trying to dab at the stain with napkins. “you gotta dab it like this… this is how my grandpa taught me to treat stains.” yuji told megumi and nobara. his tongue was sticking out, eyes concentrated while dabbing at the shirt. megumi looked defeated. it was like he was working with tweedle dee and tweedle dum.

yuji picked up the shirt and laid it out on the table. the coffee stains almost looked like a design. maybe they would be able to get away with it. gojo-sensei wore some interesting things, he wouldn’t question it.

“it could pass for marimekko.” yuji said. nobara agreed while looking at the shirt, “if you look at it in this light and angle…”

“that’s so insulting to the fashion industry.” megumi stated. he was raised by the satoru gojo and (y/n) (l/n), so he was aware of the fashion trends due to both of his guardians having a shopping problem.

“why don’t we just get him a new shirt? i bet it’s replaceable!” nobara suggested to the two, “fushiguro, look up how much this shirt costs!”

megumi took out his phone and started googling. his eyes widened in shock, gulping as he realized it was a prada shirt, “uh, guys… this shirt is $1800…” he showed yuji and nobara his phone. they looked at the price with disgust and despair.

yuji, asking in fear, “is that before or after tax?”

“does it matter?! we don’t have that kind of money! we’re high schoolers!” megumi shouted at them. he could feel the anger boiling in him.

“well, i’ll put in $900 since i was the one that spilled the coffee and you guys put in $450 each, does that sound good?” nobara suggested as she did the math begrudgingly. she definitely did not want to spend her play money on replacing her rich sensei's shirt.

the kids heard the dining hall screen slide open, eyes full of terror. megumi shoved gojo-sensei’s shirt into his jujutsu high uniform as he greeted his students, “mornin’! ijichi should’ve left you guys with something for me… uh, megumi, you good?”

“oh yeah,” he said with a nervous chuckle, “ijichi said he was going to give it to (y/n) instead!”

the way megumi stuffed the shirt into his uniform made it look like he had boobs. nobara and yuji held in their laughs behind their hands, megumi’s lie was the nail in the coffin for them. he wanted to punch both of them in their faces, he was so annoyed. he stormed out of the room and retreated to a hidden faculty closet to make an emergency phone call.

“so, to what do i owe the pleasure of my adopted son calling me?” you teased megumi. he would've just gone to your office if today wasn't your day off.

“i need a favor…” he mumbled.

“what happened, kiddo? are you in trouble?” you asked him with all teasing aside, concern in your tone.

“not exactly. nobara spilled coffee on one of gojo-sensei’s expensive shirts. can you help me get it dry cleaned before he finds out?” he explained the story to you. mama-(y/n) instincts picked up right away.

“bring it home, i’ll take a look at it. satoru doesn’t come home until 6:30 today.”

you had a very soft spot for megumi and tsumiki. if they needed anything, you were there for them in a heartbeat. realistically, you knew that satoru wouldn’t be upset about his shirt since he could just buy a new one anyway, but it was cute to see megumi all worked up about it. you chuckled to yourself in the kitchen as megumi hung up the phone. he'd be home in a flash.

later that day: the gojo/(l/n) household

“(y/n)-sensei, i’m home!” megumi called out to you from the foyer as he took off his shoes and grabbed his slippers.

the familiar scent of the apartment he grew up in brought him back to his childhood, it was nostalgic for him. it was a mix of your nectarine and honey blossom perfume and gojo-sensei’s spicy and woodsy cologne.

he reminisced about when you and gojo-sensei first got this apartment. he would watch tv with tsumiki after school while you and gojo-sensei hung out in the kitchen making dinner. mainly gojo-sensei would watch and bother you, but to megumi's surprise, both of you were decent cooks at 18. he missed when you would read bedtime stories to him and tsumiki, he liked to think you were the reason why he loved reading so much.

he walked over to the wall next to the bathroom where gojo-sensei measured his and tsumiki’s height every month until he turned 12. a soft smile formed on his face when he thought about how his sensei would include his spikey dark blue hair into his height to make him feel better about not being 6'3" like him. oh what he would do to be 12 again...

after living in the dorms for a year now and only coming home on the weekends, he sure missed you and the blindfolded idiot. he would never admit it, but he actually liked living with you two. he was grateful to have guardians like you and satoru.

“welcome home, kiddo. we missed ya'. and what did i say about not calling me sensei? it makes me sound old.” you smiled and hugged him tightly.

he grumbled as you ruffled his hair, “ugh. you just saw me yesterday...” megumi shook his head and fixed a couple pieces of his hair that your slender fingers displaced. he hated when you and gojo-sensei would do that, but he always let it slide because well… it was you and gojo. and believe it or not, he had a soft spot deep down for you two.

“where’s the shirt?” you asked as megumi took out the soiled shirt from his backpack.

“yikes, not the prada shirt…” you tried to hold back a laugh.

“can it be saved?” he asked eagerly.

“i don’t know, megumi. you might have to do chores for a whole year to pay this one off.” you joked with him.

you sighed, there was definitely no fixing this. you retreated to your bedroom to find your purse, megumi curiously wondering what you were doing. you rummaged through your purse to find your wallet, taking out your black credit card and handing it to megumi. megumi eyes widened, he knew what the black cards meant, he grew up with you and gojo-sensei after all.

“take my card. go buy a new one exactly like this. he’ll never know.” you whispered to him.

“are you sure? this is expensive. nobara suggested we all pitch in to buy a new shir—”

you hit megumi upside the head with a spray of water from your cursed technique, “go now. the idiot comes home soon!” you grabbed his arm and dragged him from the kitchen table to the foyer.

he smiled at you and turned to open the door, but before he left, he stopped.

“(y/n)?” he said quietly.

“yes, megumi?” you watched him as he looked over at you.

his hand left the doorknob as he ran to hug you quickly, “you’re the best.”

his embrace surprised you. you wrapped your arms around your adopted teenaged son and laughed. everyone knew megumi loved you more than he loved satoru. there was only one person that he would call in case of emergency, and it was you.

BASED ON THE MANGA FILLER:

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

#megumi loves his guardians <3 #jjk x oc #jjk fluff #megumi fushiguro x oc #megumi fushiguro fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #megumi fushiguro fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x you #yuji itadori #nobara kugisaki #satoru gojo #jjk imagine #jjk imagines

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iskandersmuts · 8 months

Text

Diplomat's Party

Male Reader x Yuna

Tags: Smut, Yuna Smut, Sex, Blowjob, Creampie

My first attempt. I will be thankful with some feedback with anything.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

You see the man on the mirror. That’s you inside the bathroom talking to yourself for gaining courage. “You can do it.” You say. “You did this for the last year.” Finally, you hide again in one of the bathroom’s cabinets. One more time breathe in and breathe out. Is just matter of endure this feeling three more hours.

You leave the bathroom and start counting the hours. Right now is nine o’clock. You can leave freely this party at midnight. As your boss always says “Your job at parties is like being a Cinderella. You arrive show the best you have and before the worst parts of you appear you leave. Nobody wants to know how cool or shitty you are when you are bored or even worse drunk. So no one of you, the diplomats, can show that side. Remember we are representing a country.” He is right we can’t show some parts of ourselves.

But these parties are actually a pain in the ass. The most of the people are here for work. They are not resting. They are not having fun. They are trying to get some confidential information that will help their own interest or the interest of their countries. Is like an international convention of ass lickers, brownosers or whatever you call it. They gather together and start talking about nonsense: “Did you hear about that African president lecturing Macron about colonialism?” or “Did you see what this Bukele did with the cryptocurrency?” You just can’t say. “Of course, dumbass you know that every ass licker here read the same Foreign Affairs subscription that you read.” You just say whatever thing they also know “Yeah and it seems that IOSCO now has a project bill for cryptocurrency.” And then the questions start. “Do you have any notices on the votes of the draft resolution of the injunction… and blah blah” Just things that nobody cares about. Two years ago, you pleaded your boss to let you assist to this kind of events. And now is your third time a week in these events. You would prefer getting a massage with hot stones in your balls right now. But not everything is bad. In this field: the diplomacy. You must be really lucky to find a friend. And you were really lucky, your honest friend is Diego an Argentinian diplomat.

In this party at Lotte Hotel Diego does a sign asking you to leave the building and go to the yard. Both of you get outside and start talking.

“Dude, did you hear the big news?” Says Diego.

“Diego if is a diplomat thing I really don’t want to talk about that right now.” You say with your voice showing boredom.

“No is not that kind of thing. You know me. I don’t like to talk about that stuff too. Is about the party of tonight.”

“What? Someone find out about those two gay diplomats that are in a relationship?” You ask.

Diego laughs. “No not that. Something interesting. Korea has changed the main event of tonight!”

“That means that I’m not going to hear the fat lady singing AGAIN the fucking Madame Butterfly.” You say.

“Yes. And also, as they were looking for something new. Moon Jae In used his trick up his sleeve and contracted a kpop group.”

“WAIT WHAT? WHO? TELL ME!” You say almost shouting.

“Is a girl group. JYP…”

“Fucking Twice is coming? Oh my god! Really?”

“No not Twice a bit younger.”

“NMIXX? But they have few songs!” You say complaining.

“Not that younger.”

“ITZY? ARE YOU FUKING KIDDING ME?!”

“No. No. It’s for real. They are coming.”

You guessed correctly.

And now you are thinking: Finally, something good happened on these useless parties. And you are smiling in a weird way. You know is weird because Diego told you. And then you use your experience of these years to act the best you can. As a diplomat you can’t be a crazy fan even more as you are here actually “working”.

The girls finally arrive. All guests are invited to gather and enjoy the show. Itzy is on the scene they greet everybody. You notice that they are not cheerful as they are in concerts of world tours. They are trying to be mature. They start with “Dalla Dalla”. You resist the urge of fanchant with the song. When they end nobody claps. For the awkward situation they start immediately another song. It happens the same nobody claps or even cheers.

This situation reminds you the footage of Red Velvet presenting at North Korea. The public were all quiet. This was the same. These boring diplomats don’t celebrate anything. Yeji as the leader announces that they are going to perform the last song. “Cheshire”. You want to fanchant so bad. But you can’t. They nailed the last song; the others were good too. But in this song, you see that they are trying their best as is their last song and till now they didn’t get any response from the public. When the song ends you don’t resist the urge and you start clapping. The people around you look at you as a weirdo. But then Diego joins you and other Koreans too. Then everybody is forced to do it. You look at them. All the girls are smiling. You keep clapping and you stand up.

“That was nice, girls” you shout.

This time just some of the other guests joins. And the rest of them just look at you and the others as weirdos.

This moment was definitively the most memorable. Because you see the girls looking at the few ones clapping while smiling. They finally thank everybody and leave the scenario.

You start walking around the party just remembering the faces of the girls when they saw you clapping. Their expressions. They are shocked at first. They look at you and then start smiling. It was a rough night for them. But you did the night a little bit easier for them.

Now just some minutes till midnight. You made your job and you saw Itzy you deserve a fucking drink. So, you start walking towards the bar.

“Look that old geezer is trying to dance” Says someone.

You notice that this is the voice of a woman.

You laugh.

Someone appears in front of you looks you directly inside the eyes and says. “Are you laughing at us?”

You are caught off of guard. “No sorry I didn’t mean that. Is just that no one here uses that kind of word ‘old geezer’” You look at her face trying to know his name. “Omo. Sorry Chaeryeong-shi. I really didn’t mean to make fun of you.”

Chaeryeong looks at you. “Do you know my name? Finally, I thought nobody here knew who we are.” She pauses and continues. “And don’t worry I’m pretty sure that Ryujin-unnie doesn’t care if you laugh or not, right, unnie?”

“You are pretty damm right, Chae.” Says Ryujin. “Is just that the old geezer…” You start to laugh again while she continues. “looked really hilarious when he started dancing.”

You see that behind both, Ryujin and Chaeryeong, are the other members of the group. You are internally jumping so hard that maybe your head will hit the roof. But you try to keep your composure. “Nice to meet you all of you.” You look at your watch is just past midnight. Fuck it you are not “working” anymore. “I’m really a big fan of yours.”

The other girls gather around you when they see that you are talking with Ryujin. They stand up beside you. There it is Yuna with her scenary outfit.

While you are looking at her you try to avoid looking at her chest. Or at least pretend that you are not doing it. She is using baggy pants. You wanted to look her legs too. That’s too bad. But you are lucky enough to look her perfect flat belly. When she sees you, she just smiles at you. The other girls as Yuna are wearing also an scenary outfit all of them have a blue or sky blue piece. But Yuna is the one that caught your eye.

“You are not from here, right?” Asks Ryujin. Yeji gives a little slap on Ryujin’s arm. She is the leader indeed.

You are thinking. Thanks Ryujin. You saved me. I owe you one. It was getting weird because I was looking Yuna for too long.

“Yes yes. I’m not from here. I’m a diplomat assigned here at Korea, Ryujin-shi.”

“You are a diplomat?” Asks Lia. “I always thought that diplomats were old men.”

You answer. “Well the ones that appear on television they are. And maybe as they are the most known for the public you think that. But actually in my country if you do the right things. You can start as a diplomat at 23 years old.”

“Yeah you look kind of young. But here the most of them are old geezers.” Says Ryujin. You laugh. “I thought that the reason why nobody clapped was that they are old geezers. But maybe is because they do what you do.”

“Well. Yeah the most of the times the show is a snob thing. Like opera or traditional theather.”

Ryujin interrupts you. “What thing? What did you say?”

Yuna starts laughing. You answer Ryujin. “See your maknae here knows what I said. Yuna-shi would you mind explaining her?”

Yuna looks at you. Doubtful starts speaking. “Snob is like people that likes fancy things just because they want to be different. Right?” She looks at you.

You are melting. The eyes of your Itzy’s bias are looking right at you.

“Yeah… Is just like that, Yuna-shi.” You answer. “The people here like that kind of things. Kind of unique or least popular. The people around here think that the things that they are discussing are the most important things ever. They are so full of themselves.”

“And… You are here... So, you too?” Asks Yuna looking you again.

You smile. “I hope I don’t. Maybe I would be just like them if I answer that. How about you discover if I’m like them.” You look at Yuna.

In your head you ran the entire place 10 times. You are flirting with Itzy’s Yuna. You are nervous as fuck.

“We’ll see. Then.” Answers Yuna and grins.

Yeji looked what happened. Actually, the whole girl group watched you flirting with their maknae. Yeji stands between you and Yuna and starts shaking your hand. “You are the one that clapped for us, right? Let me thank you for that. We’d like to stay around but we actually just came here for a personal matter. We are going to the bar. It looks like you are about to leave this party, right?”

Her words weren’t even smooth. You were clearly kicked out. “Is that true? I see. Well, thank you for greeting me.” You say trying to sound as polite as you can. “Well maybe I should go…”

What you were saying is interrupted by Yuna holding Yeji’s arms with her hands. She starts pouting. “Unnie, please.”

Yeji’s answer is silence pretending Yuna said nothing. Yuna starts pouting again. “Yeji unnie, please. Besides he is a Midzy, right?” Yuna looks at you.

“Yeah. As I said I’m a big fan.” You add.

When Yeji says nothing again. And you think this is lost. Yuna uses his final technique her little kitten face. He is pleading looking directly at Yeji. Just as Pussy in boots in Shrek. You don’t receive fully the little kitten face but you see it by the side.

Fuck. You are willing to give your house if she asks you doing that face. And you start wondering why the governments and international organizations spent so much money training people like you to end wars. When probably all they need is the Yuna’s little kitten face. Dam even if she asks Putin to end the war. Will he say no?

Yeji tries to avoid her face or maybe just look at the others trying to find an answer. Ryujin just shrugs like saying I don’t care. Lia and Chaeryeong that were looking Yuna’s little kitten face just nod. Yeji sighs and says. “Fine. He can come.”

“Yaaaaaay” says Yuna. She takes your arm and pulls you to start moving. Then she releases so you can follow them.

That expression that she just used was the bubbliest yet the most attractive you’ve ever seen. And she touched you. You can die right now. You start walking behind them. You just can’t help and you take a peek at their asses. Ryujin has a really bubbly ass. Chaeryeong has the largest one and seems like is not that soft because has muscles around. Lia has the softest one like you can sleep there. Yeji has a cute butt. And finally, Yuna has a bubbly cute ass. She is using baggy pants but her butt can be noticed trough them.

While walking Yuna turns lightly her head to you to ask you. “Hey Mr. Diplomat how old… are you?” She paused because she noticed you looking her ass. You were caught in fraganti so you just looked at her and smile. “Well mmmmm… I’m actually 25 years old. International age I mean.”

After you answer Yuna says something to Yeji. Yeji also turns her head to you. Look at you and nods to Yuna.

All of you finally arrive at the bar. Ryujin asks for champagne for everybody including you. She didn’t ask any of you. She just ordered. Yeji slaps her arm. “Ryujin yaaa. Why do you always do that?”

Ryujin answers. “It doesn’t matter. All of us were going to drink that anyway. Right?”

You see around and everybody is nodding. It seems that the dominant Ryujin you see trough tv screen is actually a dominant Ryujin in real life.

“Let’s make a toast. Raise your glasses” Says Yeji. And by looking at the girls and you she is ordering you to do it. Everybody raises their glasses. “Our schedule didn’t let us to celebrate properly the birthday of our beloved maknae. Yuna we all love you.” At the end of this sentence. You start nodding hard. Yeji got quiet and looks at you. All the girls look at you too and then laugh. You blush. “Anyway…” Yeji continues. “Apparently everyone gathered here LOVES you Yuna. Happy Birthday.”

The girls take turns to hug Yuna. First Yeji, then Ryujin. You notice that everyone gets closer and say a few words in Yuna’s ear. When is your turn you gather all the courage in your body and swallow the nervousness and try to look cool. You hug her and whisper in her ear. “Is true indeed that everybody here loves you. Happy birthday. I wish you have a good time tonight.” She grins and whispers in your ear. “Well, you can help me to have a good time tonight.”

Shit. You think. I felt her chest during that hug. And now she says this I really can’t control my excitement.

And actually, you got hard down there. While you were hoping she didn’t notice it the hug ends and she looks down like looking for something.

It seems like she felt it.

Then the girls sited around the bar and ordered drinks. You took place beneath Yuna. She leaned on you.

“Oppa…” She says and you got surprised.

“Oppa?” You ask inmediately interrupting her.

“Yes you are older than me you are my oppa, right?” She questioned.

“Well yeah I can be your oppa if you want.”

“Nice. I want to ask you something. Can i?”

“Okay. But if is something that I can’t say because of my work please don’t use your little kitten face against me. I will give in and next thing will be that I’m fired.”

She laughs. “My what?”

“Ah I named your pleading face to Yeji-shi before as ‘little kitten face’”

“Because of Shrek?” She asks.

She gets me.

“Yeah. I just love that movie. But continue. Go ahead”

She continues “Anyway I’m not going to ask you something difficult, oppa. I just want to know what should I drink? I don’t have too much experience with that.”

“You are 19 now, right? What have you drinked before? and what did you like or not?”

“Well obviously soju. At first, I didn’t like it. But then I was into that. But tonight, I want something fancier.”

“You are lucky. As this is diplomat’s party. I think this bar has international beverage too. Have you heard about pisco?”

“What?! What is that?”

“Is alcohol is made from grapes: the green ones. And well is nice when you drink it with lemon and other stuff. The beverage is called pisco sour.”

“Well why not. Today I’m celebrating my birthday. If I pretend today is my birthday. This is my first time having 20 years. So today is the day of first times!”

“That’s the attitude!”

“Two pisco sours, please.” You ask to the bartender.

The bartender hands you two glasses. And you hand one to Yuna.

She sips. “This is like lemonade, right? Just at the end I can taste some alcohol. Is not that strong.”

You nod. “So did you like it?”

“Yeah, kind of.” Answers, Yuna.

A couple of glasses later you and Yuna are talking.

“You know what?” You start “I think diplomat’s life and idol’s life have something in common.”

“Why do you think that?” Asks Yuna.

“Well, your life is kind of controlled by someone: your company. In my case the embassy. I’m living here in this country just to work. And also, our opinions can’t be radical. Do you remember that time where Tzuyu waved her flag? The… Taiwanese flag?” Yuna nods. You continue “She apologized then. That means that no idol can give political opinions, right? Well, I can’t neither. I can’t say Taiwan is a country or say what I think about any president or government out loud.”

“Well… Yeah, It makes sense. So, you can’t hang out at parties too?”

You are so into this subject. “Well, if something happens like a drunk fight or something like that. I’m fucked up. Because in the headline will appear ‘The diplomat of this country got drunk and…’”

Suddenly Ryujin hugs you from behind and asks you. “Hey, since when Yuna is your bias? Have you fapped to her photos?”

You blush and start stuttering. “I-I-I D-d-d-didn’t do that!”

Ryujin laughs. “Mr. diplomat knows how to be cute!” She pinches your cheek. Then she says looking at Yuna. “Hey if you don’t achieve nothing with him. I’ll ask his number.”

Yuna hit Ryujin’s arms. “Ryujin-yaaaaa.”

You look at Yuna. “Achieve something?” You ask.

Yuna blushes a little bit. “Well did you remember before when we were walking to the bar? When you were… mmmm… looking my ass?”

You almost spit the pisco sour. Ryujin laughs. “It seems like Mr. Diplomat likes to stare asses. Did you peak mine too?”

Fuck Ryujin is so straight when she talks. This can’t be a mess. You must apologize. You think.

“Ammm… I do. Sorry.” You apologize.

“So who has the best one?” Ryujin asks you.

This brat knows how to make you nervous.

“Y-y-y-yuna” You answer stuttering.

“Well, I give up, Yuna. Mr. Diplomat is in love with you. I don’t get him. Everybody’s favorite is my ass or Chae. I’m leaving it to you.” Ryujin says while walks out to join the other members.

“Really?” Asks Yuna looking at you.

“Yeah. You are my favorite in everything! My ultimate bias.” You shout.

Fuck. It seems I’m really drunk.

Yuna stares at you and doesn’t say anything.

You blew up. She probably isn’t looking for a fanboy. You shouldn’t have drunk too much.

But she caught your arm and walks with you. You just follow her. “What happened, Yuna?” You ask.

She looks at you and keeps walking. “Today is the day of first times.”

She is leading you to the bathroom. She enters and locks the door.

You are in disguise. What to do now is pretty obvious but is Yuna so you are doubtful.

Before you decide anything Yuna kisses you.

Fuck. Is the best kiss you ever had. So this is how it feels when you kiss someone you really really like. Is like an explosion. Like there was nothing and then a big bang.

The kiss breaks. “Did you like it?” Asks Yuna.

You don’t answer just kiss her again. The sensation is something different. Like you can be here forever. But the night was just starting.

Yuna starts touching your back while kissing you. Then your chest. Your neck. She stops. “You don’t want to touch me?” She looks directly in your eyes.

“No, no. Is not that. Is just I didn’t want to ruin the kiss.” You say.

“Oppa. You know what are we doing next, right? I know you are not so innocent!” She says. And starts kissing you again.

Now you touch her. Her neck, her back you go down. Her delicious ass is being groped by your hands. You lean her closer to you by pressing her butt.

You start kissing her neck. “Yuna. You are so beautiful and cute. Your mouth, your face, your ass.” You press your hands in her butt harder. She just moans “Mmmmmm….” But then she speaks. “I can feel your dick poking my abs. Just like before when you hugged me.”

You press her butt stronger. So, she can feel it more. Then you lift her up by grabbing her legs and kiss her neck again. “Mmm… I want to see your tits, Yuna.” While being in the air she manages to take off her blouse. You see her lingerie and anxiously you start kissing around her tits. While she is trying to untie her bra. Finally, you receive in your view her heavenly boobs. Her nipples are totally pink and are like inviting you to suck them.

This is the best feast I’ve ever had.

You kiss and lick her tits while the only response from Yuna is “Mmmm.” When you left her legs touch the ground, she kisses you again and she kisses your neck this time. Now she is trying to get your formal shirt off. You start undressing yourself. She kisses your neck and starts going down till she is in front of your crotch. She is in her knees.

“Mmmm… I want to know if you are a big fan as you said.” She touches your crotch. And starts undressing your pants. Then she just puts down your boxers.

Your dick is hard as never was. When she puts down your boxers your cock jump off and slaps Yuna’s face. She looks at you and then stares your cock.

“It looks that you were right. You are the biggest”

Then she starts stroking. You just moan.

“I thought you said it was first times’ day.”

“Yes oppa. This is my first time with a foreign guy and my first time sucking cock big like yours”

She starts licking the tip of your cock.

“Oppa I’m starting to doubt if this can fit in my mouth.”

“Let’s find out.” You say. She nods and starts putting it in her mouth.

First the tip and then she tries to push deeper. Her mouth is full but there is plenty of dick left. She starts moving. You can’t deny that you had better heads before. But… She looks at you while sucking you. Then you are aware again that the one sucking you off is Itzy’s Yuna. So, you start to feel better. Fuck you could say that you are even about to cum. You caught her head with your hands and start pushing.

“Fuck Yuna. I can feel your throat!”

She just says “Mmmm mmmm” as she can’t talk.

“I’m going to cum. Fuck. Fuck.”

You start cumming and you relax the grip on her head. And she frees. Some of the cum goes in her face.

“Mmmm… You are rough, oppa. I like that.” She picks some toilet paper of the bathroom to clean her face. “But you know what this is only starting. I want that big thing inside me now.”

She starts unbuckling her pants and puts it down and also her underwear at the same time. She has a shaved cute pussy and is already wet.

“Oppa, fuck me.” She says and then she bends and you have a total view of her ass. That beloved ass.

“You want me to fuck you?” You spank her.

“Aah. Yes, oppa. Fuck me with your cock!”

You grin and start to play with your dick around her pussy. “Oppa, just fuck me already!” She says.

You put your cock inside her. And you feel tightness. You haven’t feel something like this before. “Yuna you are so tight!” You say. And try to go deeper. “Fuck Yuna really I’m not lying you are too tight!”

“Mmmm… No oppa is just that you are too big. Just keep going. Mmmm…”

You start going deeper in a slow pace. Finally, you get to get your full dick inside. Yuna is moaning already. “Yuna, prepare yourself”

“Whaaaaaaa… aaah… mmm… mmm” She starts moaning. You are slamming her in a rapid pace. And then she says “Cumming aaaah” You don’t slow down. And then she shouts again moaning again but this time her legs start to shake. But you don’t slow down.

Fuck you’ d love to see Yuna’s cumming face. But right now in exchange you have a full view of her cute butt and her pussy while your cock enters and disappears. She is moaning so hard.

“Aaaaah… Oppa. I love how you fuck me. You are really deep into me.” She says.

And is true is almost like your tip is kissing her womb. This tightness is almost like her walls are never letting you go. Like their insides are sucking you up. Is this heaven? The pleasure right now is out of this world.

While dreaming off, it happens you cum inside her. Fuck you really fast up the pace because now you are out of breath. Yuna stands up looks at you smiles and kisses you. “That was one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had. And really orgasms because it happened multiple times” Yuna says. “You are special and fuck you cummed so much”. At the moment white liquid starts to drip from her crotch.

Suddenly the door sounds. There are lots of knock knock and then a voice: “Yuna we need to leave now. They found out about the manager bribed. We will be waiting for you on the car outside.”

You look to Yuna. And she starts explaining. “Have you heard anytime about Itzy joining a party where they were having a show. Or have happened ever that the last entertainment show joins the party in your diplomat events?”

“Well… Being honest I never heard of that. And that never happened. I don’t remember that the fat lady singer ever joined the party after her show.”

“Yeah. That’s what’s normal. But we bribed our manager to tell JYP we were already at the dorm and we sneaked into the party.”

“So you weren’t invited to the party? And wait did you lie to Jyp?” You ask.

While this conversation was made Yuna started dressing up. As you see it you start looking for your clothes too.

Yuna answers “Yeah, that’s why we were just in the bar. I mean we didn’t want to catch too much attention. And also, we were with our stage clothes if we were invited, we probably were wearing some fancy dresses or something like that. And yeah, we lied to Jyp. He is nice but sometimes he is just a pain in the ass. You know if it was for him, I’ll be virgin even now.”

“Well yeah if you had gone to the main saloon, you probably had caught more attention. Then I must be really thankful for that bribe because if that wasn’t happened, this wasn’t happened.”

“Yes, oppa. And also, is thanks to Yeji. When you looked my ass, I was asking Yeji if I can be with you and she nodded. But sadly, I must say bye now. I really want to have another meeting with you and that big thing of yours.” She kisses you and continues. “and maybe we can try other things. You know Ryujin says that anal sex is way better than normal sex. But I don’t know maybe I need to experience it by first hand.” She hands you a piece of paper.

“Is your number?” You ask like pleading.

“Aww you can be a cutie pie too. Yes, it is. I must be going. Is better if I leave alone. Wait inside here and after a couple minutes leave. Ok?” She says.

“Yes. I’ll be expecting our next meeting.”

“Me too.” She kisses you and then leaves the bathroom.

That actually happened. You think. I had sex with my ultimate bias.

And now you remember all the things the view of her precious ass. Her eyes while she was sucking you off. The taste of her lips. Her essence. Her ass in your palms. Her surprised eyes when she saw your cock. The sensation of his tongue in your cock and her throat.

The sound of your phone wakes you up. Some text messages.

“Hey Oppa is Yuna. It seems like you weren’t the only diplomat getting fun. Ryujin also had fun with an argentinian diplomat. And he knows you, so the girls and I got his number and yours. Let’s have another meeting soon”

You smile. What is even better that you fucking your bias from Itzy is that your friend could do it too and maybe he even had anal sex with Ryujin. It seems that this kind of parties are not so bad.

#smut #yuna smut #male reader #itzy smut #kpop smut #kpop x male reader

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