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slu7formen · 27 days

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MDNI. luke x fem!reader

you and Luke end up stuck in the same motel room on a mission, but as he tries his best to stay as far away from you as possible, he ends up with you sitting on his lap and moaning his name.

warnings: enemies to lovers (?, reader’s godly parent is not mentioned, CLASSIC share-the-same-bed prompt, cussing, clothed s3x, pet names, teasing, kinda virgin!luke, dom!luke for a sec, luke sees reader in her underwear

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

The groan of the rusty –stolen– car door echoed in the woods like a death knell. You slammed it shut with a wince, the throbbing ache in your shoulder protesting the movement as you placed your bag on it. The vehicle now lay crumpled against a giant redwood, a testament to the gigantic beast you'd just barely managed to outrun before Percy took take of it with Anaklusmos.

And him, ever the optimist, managed a weak attempt at sarcasm. "Well, that went great, don´t you think?" he muttered to you, his voice laced with exhaustion. A fresh cut adorned his cheek, a reminder of his near-death experience, from their recent encounter.

Luke, face dirty and torso sweaty, slammed the trunk shut with a finality that mirrored the exhaustion etched on his face. Dirt smudged his usually perfect features, and sweat plastered his black hair to his forehead, a sight that would have sent shivers down the spine of any other girl at camp. On you, however, it just fueled the simmering fire inside you that made you want to punch his face.

He slung his worn backpack over one shoulder, the weight of responsibility and fatigue pulling him down.

"Remind me not to let you drive again. Ever." he said to you, his voice laced with a mocking lilt.

You rolled your eyes, the familiar irritation sparking within you. "Oh, give me a break" you spat back, hands on your hips. "I'm the only one with a license here, genius."

"Is your license useful when it comes to a stolen car, genius?" he replied, voice lowering to match his mockery and a punchable smirk playing on his lips. He really knew how to push your buttons, even when you were both staring down the barrel of another night on the run, another night without a decent meal or a good night's sleep.

"At least I can drive" you countered, ignoring the prickle of annoyance that ran down your spine. "Besides, who else would have gotten us this far? You?" You gestured towards the flickering neon sign of a ramshackle motel in the distance, a beacon of hope in the gathering darkness.

"Enough" Annabeth said, her voice firm despite the tiredness in her tone. "You two can fight later, but right now, we need to find somewhere to stay. I am not spending another night sleeping on a tree"

With a determined stomp, she marched towards the side of the road. You and Luke both took a step forward at the same time, then stopped, locked in a silent battle of who would yield. You mockingly straightened your arm towards Annabeth's path. "Ladies first" you said to him.

He squinted his eyes playfully as he walked past you. “Very mature” he muttered.

The flickering neon sign cut through the twilight like a neon lifeline as you walked. ‘The Sun n' Sands Motel’ proclaimed in faded glory, the letters crooked and the sun sporting a single, sad-looking ray. It wasn't the exactly luxury, but after days on the run, a crumpled car, and a near-death encounter with a creature straight out of your worst nightmares, this place looked like a five-star resort.

"Finally" you sighed, relief washing over you in waves. You could practically smell the promise of clean sheets and a bed that didn't groan ominously with every movement. And a shower. Gods, you craved that.

Pushing open the glass door, you were greeted with a musty scent that hung in the air like a forgotten memory. The lobby was small and poorly decorated, the faded floral wallpaper clashing horrendously with the worn brown carpeting. Behind a chipped counter sat a woman whose age defied easy categorization. Her hair, the color of tarnished silver, was pulled back in a tight bun, emphasizing the deep lines etched around her eyes. She sat engrossed in a beauty magazine, oblivious to the four weary demigods who had just entered.

With a sigh that condensed the exhaustion of your entire journey, you approached the counter. Slamming a wad of crumpled bills onto the counter, you declared, "Rooms for four, please."

Percy shuffled behind you, his eyes flitting around the room with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Annabeth scanned the lobby for any signs of potential danger, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of her dagger.

The woman finally looked up, her gaze lingering on you for too long before flickering to the rest of your group. A slow smile played on her lips, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "One room, two beds?" she drawled, her voice thick with a southern twang that seemed to grate on your already frayed nerves.

"Two rooms" you corrected, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. Sharing a room with Luke Castellan, a roof, again, even in this desolate outpost, was an idea so abhorrent you couldn't entertain it for a second.

As if sensing your objection, the woman tapped away at a dusty computer terminal. A smirk played on her lips. "Couple's getaway, huh?" she asked, her eyes darting from Luke, back to you.

Percy and Annabeth exchanged a surprised and disgusted look. "What?" you demanded, your irritation bubbling over.

But before you could react, you felt Luke´s heavy arm slunging casually around your shoulder, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. "Looks like we're gonna have to get a little bit cozy, don't you think, baby?" he drawled playfully.

You gritted your teeth, biting down on the inside of your cheek to keep from exploding. You knew perfectly well he was just trying to get under your skin, and the worst part was, it was working. The thought of sharing a room with him was bad enough, but the idea of him calling you "baby" sent shivers down your spine – not of pleasure, but of pure, unadulterated annoyance.

Faking a sickly sweet smile, you leaned in and delivered a sharp elbow jab directly to his stomach. He doubled over with a groan, clutching his center for a moment. "Call me 'baby' again," you hissed, your voice low and dangerous, "and I'll punch way lower than that."

“Got it, muscles” he wheezed.

The receptionist, clearly enjoying the spectacle, leaned back in her chair and tapped away at the computer again. "Right now, we have one room with a double bed, and another one with two single beds" she explained.

You glanced back at Annabeth, a silent question hanging in the air. She nodded in understanding. Two single beds might not be ideal, but it was infinitely preferable to sharing a room with Luke.

"We'll take them" you declared.

The woman expertly counted the money, her lips pursed in concentration. "Rooms thirteen and fifteen." she announced, handing you two keys. "No smoking inside, and do not break anything, or you'll be charged double" the lady continued, her voice laced with a warning that was clearly aimed at you and Luke.

As you all four walked towards the stairs, you tossed the key to room fifteen at Luke. He snatched it reflexively in the air, a hint of confussion in his face. “Boys, you´ll share a room” you declare.

Luke scoffed behind your back. "What are we? Eleven?" he asked.

"It was a nightmare to drive a car with you in it" you retorted, "can't imagine what it would be like to share a room."

Later, after some questionable inspectioning around the room and re-organizing your bag for when you leave tomorrow morning, you finally had a little time to yourself.

The cool water splashed against your face, washing away the grime and exhaustion of the day. You glanced over at Annabeth, who was meticulously placing her most important things on the floor to clean and organize her bag; her dagger, her cap, a rope, a squished water bottle, and a few maps. Despite the cramped confines of the motel room, a sense of peace settled over you. Even with Luke's irritating presence hanging over your head, it was a welcome change from the constant fear and adrenaline that had fueled your journey.

A sharp rapping on the door snapped you out of your reverie. "Coming!" Annabeth called out. She opened the door just a crack as you peeked your head out of the tiny bathroom door. You were greeted by the sight of a very smug-looking Percy. His cheeks were puffed out, and he was clutching a brown paper bag that seemed precariously close to bursting.

"Uh, hey" he mumbled, his voice muffled through a mouthful of something chocolatey. "I raided the vending machine downstairs” he simply explained.

Annabeth turned towards you. “Dinner?” she asked.

The offer of a snack, however meager, was enough to send your stomach grumbling in protest. The idea of a proper meal sounded heavinly, the food from camp, the meat, the mashed potatoes. Gods, you really wanted to be back. But right now, even the greasiest bag of chips could be enough for you.

Percy shoved his way past Annabeth and into the room. He disgorged his loot onto the small bedside table that sat between your beds. Annabeth, with her usual organizational skills, started to create a semblance of order from the chaotic pile of snacks.

Across the room, you noticed Luke still leaning against the doorway. He had shed his usual polished exterior for a pair of worn sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, a sight that momentarily threw you off balance. He took you in with a lazy glance, his eyes lingering on your tired face and messy hair. "Looking good" he called, a smirk playing on his lips.

One of your eyes twitched in irritation. Grabbing the wet towel you'd been using, you flung it at him with a growl. He managed to snag it out of the air just before it connected with his face.

"Hilarious" he remarked.

Annabeth jumped in before the playful hostility could escalate further. "How about a movie?" she suggested, her voice laced with a hint of forced cheer.

The idea wasn't exactly appealing, but the prospect of some semblance of downtime outweighed the absurdity of watching television in a dingy motel room. You and Luke exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between you. You didn't know how much peace you could get in the middle of a mission, or for how long, but the idea of just sitting down and eating calmly while watching a movie was undeniably tempting. Even with the dubious snacks and the cramped quarters, it felt like a small oasis in the storm of your current situation.

The movie selection on the ancient TV was limited, to say the least. After a series of disgruntled grumbles and channel surfing, they settled on a cheesy romance movie with a plot that could have been predicted by a hyperactive squirrel. The acting was atrocious, the dialogue predictable, and the special effects looked like they were created by a bored teenager with basic editing software. Yet, despite the movie's inherent ridiculousness, a strange sense of camaraderie filled the room. Laughter, albeit tinged with exhaustion, erupted at the predictable plot twists and overly dramatic dialogue.

As the minutes ticked by, Percy and Annabeth succumbed to the fatigue of the day. Annabeth curled up by your side on her bed, but her eyelids eventually fluttered shut and her head lolled back against your shoulder. Percy managed to stay up for a little longer with Luke, but his snorting could easily be heard just ten minutes after.

Silence stretched between you and Luke, punctuated only by the rhythmic snores of Percy and the occasional sigh from Annabeth in her sleep. You glanced over at your friend, her head resting peacefully against your shoulder. Despite the discomfort of the shared bed and the dubious snacks, a sliver of normalcy felt oddly comforting.

Across from you, Luke mirrored your posture, leaning back against the headboard with his arms crossed. His gaze was fixed on the flickering television screen, but you knew his attention wasn't on the atrocious movie. He was lost in thought, a furrow etched between his brows.

There was tension in the air, a constant undercurrent simmering between you two. You didn't like each other, that much was certain. He was arrogant, self-serving, and his loyalty always seemed to have a price tag attached. Yet, a grudging respect had grown between you over the years. You both understood the weight of your responsibilities, the burden of protecting those younger, more innocent.

He cleared his throat, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "Hey, Per—" he began, his voice a low murmur.

“Hey” you called. Luke´s head snapped towards your direction. "He's been out for more than half an hour" you interjected softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't wake him up."

Luke's head tilted to the side. Confusion flickered across his brown eyes before settling on a scowl. "What?" he hissed, barely louder than a whisper.

"Think about it" you countered, your voice a low murmur that wouldn't disturb the sleeping teens. "Percy's been snoring like a miniature thunderstorm for at least ten minutes. Annabeth wouldn't wake up even if a centaur stepped next to her right now. Waking them up would just cause a monster of a different kind."

You knew Luke understood. You weren't just talking about Percy's physical exhaustion. You were both keenly aware of the burden these young demigods carried. They craved normalcy as much as anyone, and these stolen moments of peaceful sleep, however fleeting, were a precious commodity. Watching them, so vulnerable and carefree in their slumber, filled you with a fierce protectiveness. The last thing you wanted to do was disrupt that.

Luke didn't reply, but his gaze mirrored your sentiments. A flicker of something akin to respect softened the harsh lines of his face. You weren't friends, not by any stretch of the imagination. He mean. Yet, you shared a common enemy and a common purpose – to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

The silence stretched for a momento before he cleared his throat again, the sound sharp in the cramped room. "So," he drawled, his voice laced with a hint of resignation, "what do we do then?"

You sighed, frustration creeping into your voice. "Guess we're stuck sharing a room after all" you muttered, throwing your hands up in defeat. The idea was far from appealing.

Luke's face contorted in horror. He let out a theatrical whine that would rival any crying toddler. "Oh come on" he whined, stretching the word into several syllables. "Sharing a room with you? Talk about cruelty and punishment."

“Oh, just shut up” you whispered-yelled at him. “Trust me, I don´t wanna sleep next to you either. I´ll build up a wall of pillows before you can even start snoring”

There was a certain absurdity to the situation, being forced to share a room with your least favorite person. But beneath the surface, you both acknowledged the unspoken truth – the safety and well-being of Percy and Annabeth took precedence over any personal discomfort.

You both rose from your beds, a tense air crackling around you. Picking up your backpack, you hoisted it over your shoulder with a sigh. "Alright" you declared, marching towards the door. "Let's get this over with."

Luke followed, his movements mirroring yours. The walk down the cramped hallway was filled with an tension. Neither of you dared to speak. Reaching his door, Luke fumbled for the key, his irritation evident in his clumsiness. Finally, with a click, the door swung open, revealing a room identical to yours – basic, cramped, and thoroughly unappealing.

Stepping inside, you couldn't help but let out a groan. A single, double bed dominated the room, leaving absolutely no room for separate sleeping arrangements. God, why did Percy have to fall asleep? Why didn´t you and Annabeth pick this room earlier? Everything was going the wrong way for you. You exchanged a look with Luke, the message clear in your burning eyes.

"Snort or drool" Luke began, his voice a low growl as he pointed a finger at you "and I swear I'll throw you out the window"

"Hm, how charming" you replied sarcastically, stepping past him and into the room.

The bed loomed before you, a battleground for an uncomfortable night's sleep. With a sigh, you dropped your backpack onto the nearest chair. Luke began building a formidable fortress of pillows in the center of the bed. You rolled your eyes at the sight. This was so ridiculous.

A glance at your watch confirmed your suspicions. It was not too late to hop on quick shower. Percy and Luke walked down to the vending machine so quickly earlier that you didn´t even have time to wash yourself before they came to your room with the so called dinner. Your clothes clung to you uncomfortably, the grime of the day begging to be washed away. You looked for a clean shirt you were sure you packed before leaving camp days ago. The possibilites of a shower were low in missions like these, but you never knew.

Leaving your backpack open on the chair, you made your way to the bathroom door, silently pushing it open. Luke watched your movements for a fleeting moment, but quickly went back to his pillow fortification once your figure disappeared inside the small bathroom. He didn't think much of it at first. You were just getting ready for the night, whatever your methods.

Inside the bathroom, you began stripping off your clothes, the cool air a welcome sensation against your heated skin. In your state of exhaustion, you neglected to fully close the bathroom door. A foolish mistake, perhaps, but in your defense, the room was tiny and the it wouldn't be winning any awards for spaciousness. Right now, all you craved was a chance to scrub away the road dust and find a clean shirt for the —uncomfortable— night ahead.

A few seconds later, a muffled curse broke the silence on Luke´s side. Luke, realizing he'd left his toothbrush in the bathroom, stopped himself from the pillows task and approached the bathroom door. He was expecting it to be shut. A polite knock, a request for his forgotten toothbrush – that was the plan. But as he drew closer, his steps faltered. The door wasn't shut.

“Seriously!?”

There you stood, completely devoid of clothes except for your underwear, taking off your camp´s necklace and your earrings. The warm glow from the bathroom light accentuated the smooth lines of your shoulders and the curve of your back. Time seemed to freeze for a beat. Luke's breath hitched in his throat.

You whirled around, startled. A small laugh escaped your lips as you saw Luke's flustered expression. His cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, and his brown eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape route.

"Didn't think you'd be so shy, Luke" It was a playful jab, a way to lighten the sudden tension that had filled the small space.

Luke sputtered, his voice barely even a regular tone. "Shy? I'm not-, I mean-…” he kept cutting himself off. “This-, don´t you know what privacy is!?"

His indignation was adorable, you couldn't help but think to yourself. You'd never seen him so flustered, so utterly out of sorts. A mischievous glint sparked in your eyes.

"Oh, come on" you countered, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Don't tell me you've never seen a girl in this state before."

The question just didn´t have an asnwer. Luke's mouth clamped shut. His eyes widened for a moment, then darted back down to the floor, avoiding your gaze. There was a flicker of something in his eyes – a memory, perhaps, or a realization – but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

The silence stretched, thick and awkward. You realized you had hit a nerve, a part of Luke you hadn't expected to expose, not in front of you. A pang of unexpected curiosity pricked at your insides. Just what kind of experiences had this arrogant, self-assured perfect golden boy had?

You opened your mouth to speak, to maybe apologize for your teasing, but Luke beat you to it.

"Just shower and get dressed, okay?" he mumbled, his voice tight with suppressed frustration. "I want to sleep."

He didn't wait for a reply, simply turning on his heel and retreating back to his pillow fort. You watched him go, a smile playing on your lips. The encounter had been unexpected, to say the least, but it had definitely shaken things up.

A low chuckle escaped your lips. "You'll wait for me?" you called out playfully, knowing full well he wouldn't answer.

"Shut up!" came his muffled reply from behind the pillows.

The silence in the cramped room was thick enough to spread. You emerged from the bathroom, a clean shirt clinging to your damp form and a towel wrapped around your head like a makeshift turban. You caught sight of Luke burrowed deep beneath the barricade of pillows, a picture of forced nonchalance. His eyes were resolutely fixed on the ceiling, but you could practically feel the heat radiating off him.

A mischievous glint flickered in your eyes. He might have gotten away with a verbal escape route earlier, but you weren't done yet. "Well, aren't you going to say something?" you queried, amusement dancing in your voice. "Speechless, Castellan? That's a first."

Luke remained stubbornly silent, his jaw clenched tight. He could feel the blush creeping back up his neck, a burning reminder of his moment of weakness. How was he supposed to act normal after seeing...well, after seeing more of you than he ever bargained for? The image of your smooth skin and the graceful curve of your back was burned into his memory, a stark contrast to the sarcastic warrior he knew.

You flopped down onto the bed, the makeshift wall of pillows separating you from Luke. You turned off the bedside lamp in silence before removing the towel off your hair, gently brushing it. The silence stretched on, broken only by the soft rustle of your brush. Just as you thought Luke had successfully retreated into a silent sulk, his voice broke through the tension.

"Look" he muttered, whispering "it was an accident. Just forget it, alright?"

You couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, come on" you teased, leaning back against the pillows. "Didn’t expect that seeing a little skin was such a big deal for someone like you."

Luke shot you a glare, but it lacked its usual bite. Someone like him? What the hell did you mean by that? Maybe it was the unexpectedness of it all, or maybe it was the way the dim light had cast your figure in a different light, one he hadn't noticed before. Whatever it was, it had thrown him completely off balance.

A sudden, and quite unwelcome, thought struck him. Just what kind of experiences had you had? He knew you weren't naive, or dumb. But the thought of you with someone else… the possessiveness that flared up within him surprised him. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly, but a strange sense he couldn't quite explain.

He pushed the thought aside, focusing on calming his racing heart. He needed sleep, not a philosophical debate about his feelings for his least favorite demigod. Just as he was about to drift off, your voice sliced through the silence, sharper than any blade.

"Are you a virgin, Luke?"

The question hung in the air, a verbal bombshell that shattered the fragile peace. Luke's eyes snapped open, wide with disbelief. Gods, you were bold. He stared at you in the dark, lifiting his head up just enough to peak from the pillows in between your boides, his mind struggling to process your words.

"What?" he finally managed, his voice husky with disbelief.

A faint blush crept up your cheeks, a stark contrast to the playful glint in your eyes. "You heard me" you countered.

Luke felt a surge of annoyance mixed with a strange vulnerability. He wasn't used to being caught off guard, especially not by you. He opened his mouth to retort, to deflect the question with his usual sarcastic wit, but the words wouldn't come.

His gaze drifted towards the wall, a silent battle raging within him. Should he answer your question honestly? The thought of revealing such a personal detail to you, his nemesis, was unappealing. But then again, a small part of him, the part he kept hidden away, craved a different kind of connection with you.

He took a deep breath, the decision made. "Does it matter?" he finally replied, his voice a low murmur.

You turned on your side, facing him across the wall of pillows, getting rid of some of them, dropping them to the carpeted floor. The moonlight filtering through the window cast an ethereal glow on your face, making your eyes seem to sparkle with mischief.

"Maybe it does" you said, your voice soft and laced with an undercurrent of something else - intrigue? Even in the darkness, you could see the way your words affected him, the way his dark eyes seemed to flicker with a mixture of emotions.

Luke opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word out, you cut him off with a laugh that seemed tinged with nervousness.

"Forget it" you said, shaking your head slightly. "Just... hormonal thoughts." The explanation felt flimsy, even to your own ears. This wasn't just idle curiosity; it was something deeper, something you couldn't quite explain yet.

Luke remained silent for a moment, your sudden change in direction throwing him off. Part of him was relieved you weren't pressing the issue, but another part, the part he usually kept suppressed, felt a flicker of disappointment. He wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't found your boldness, your honesty, even your sudden vulnerability, strangely appealing.

"Hormonal thoughts, huh?" he finally echoed, his voice husky. "Does that mean you wanna have sex with me?" He dared to voice the possibility that you might be attracted to him. He must´ve been out of his mind.

The thought was simply impossible. Yet, the way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight, the way you'd turned towards him, discarding some of the pillows as if to bridge the gap…

"No!" you blurted out, as if reading his mind. The defensiveness in your voice surprised you both. "It's not that at all. It's just... I don't know." Frustration laced your words. This whole conversation was turning into a confusing mess. “Just… how far have you reached with a girl?”

Luke stared at you, dumbfounded. This night had taken a turn he hadn't anticipated. Why were you even talking about this? Why were you asking these questions? Why, despite the initial irritation, was he finding himself answering?

Heaving a sigh, he sat up against the headboard, exhaustion finally catching up to him. "Not too far, actually" he mumbled, the words laced with a weariness that surprised him. The words felt strange coming out of his mouth, a confession he wouldn't have made to anyone else. He hadn't meant to dwell on past experiences, especially not with you. He hadn't realized how much he'd carried on his shoulders, the weight of overlooked desires he never truly got to satisfy. Suddenly, the frustration in your voice clicked into place. Was that why you'd asked? Was it because you felt the same way, burdened by an unfulfilled yearning?

But as you shifted in your bed, suddenly sitting up on your knees, he couldn't help but notice the way your silhouette was illuminated by the moonlight. And then he saw it — the lack of shorts beneath your t-shirt, a detail he'd managed to conveniently overlook in the heat of the moment, which didn´t make sense at all.

"What are you—?" he began, the question dying on his lips as you moved closer. With surprising ease, you began to dismantle the remaining wall of pillows, clearing the way between you.

His heart hammered against his ribs as you sat down on his lap, one leg on each side of him. You were close, closer than you'd ever been before. A mix of confusion and arousal that left him speechless. You stared at him, your eyes reflecting the soft moonlight, as your hands reached for his.

"Have you ever done this?" you asked, your voice gentle, devoid of the usual sarcasm you wielded like a weapon. You weren't mocking him, weren't trying to pry. This was a genuine question, a moment of surprising intimacy that neither of you could have predicted.

Luke stared at you, his mind reeling. His hands, usually quick and confident, felt heavy and clumsy under your touch. You guided them to hold steady of your thighs, even though you were not moving, not yet.

Luke had never been more confused in his life. His mind raced, searching for a coherent response, an appropriate action. Was this a trap? A test? 'What the hell?' his mind raced.

But as he looked into your eyes, searching for an explanation, all he saw was a reflection of his own thunderstorm. You were just as confused as he was, caught in a moment of unexpected intimacy.

Neither of you knew what to say, what to do next. This wasn't part of the plan. You were supposed to be enemies, rivals forced to share a cramped motel room.

You know, the classic shit.

But this wasn’t it. This was something strange that even though he hated to admit it, he didn’t want it to end yet.

So he trailed his hands higher. Higher, higher, higher. Then placed his hands on your hips. He was breathless, and a sudden feeling of dumbness filled his insides as he stared at you, reading you like a book; you were waiting. And he had no idea what to do.

But you surely did. A slight sway of your hips was all he needed to breath out the amount of air his chest was holding. Then another one, and another; each movement pressed deliciously against his cock, already hardened.

He let out a deep groan, teeth tightening and head falling back slightly.

You placed your hands around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you, almost chest to chest. Your hips kept rolling over him. If this felt good to him, it must’ve feel like heaven to you, due to your lack of lower clothes.

“You’re big, Luke” you whispered, a tiny smirk smudged along your lips. There it was. You again.

He thanked the darkness for hiding his red cheeks, but his state was not going to make him vulnerable again. He gripped your hips tighter, pulling at the top of your ass towards him over and over. “Fuck, just shut up for five minutes” he breathed out.

You didn’t answer. Your mouth hang open over his own. Your lips were dangerously close to touching, to kissing. But it was not gonna happen. As your hips rolled at a fast pace his breath tangled with yours, his moans, his groans, everything was swallowed by your own sounds.

He should feel embarrassed of behaving like this, not only because it is you but because he’s supposed to be in the middle of a mission. But come on, he knew this would happen soon or later.

All those years in which he secretly saved his feeling for himself. He had to hide the fact that whenever he touched your skin, whenever he felt your warm body against his hands, even the slightest and most teasing touch, a bolt of lighting went from the tip of his toes to his head.

He felt drunk in you in just a second and what, because he accidentally saw you almost naked?

He had to thank the gods for his luck.

“Oh, Luke” you moaned, head tilting back as you squeezed your eyes shut. Oh, he liked that.

He audibly chucked, laughed at you. “Who would’ve known?” he asked. “Who would’ve known you’d be so dirty, baby?”

Your eyes sparkled with fire, piercing Luke’s insides as the scar on his face twitched like every time he smiled. Despite the look on your face, your hips kept rolling over his; you couldn’t stop. It felt too good, too hot, too wet, even under Luke’s sweatpants.

“Don’t call me baby” you managed to blurt out, but the sound coming out of your mouth just made the whole sentence something pornographic. Luke didn’t complain.

You removed your hands from his neck. He was convinced you were gonna climb off of him and he would have to apologize repeatedly so he could finally get to cum with you on top of him; but instead, your hands travelled down his torso, and hid under his white shirt, pressing your palms onto his abs, pushing your own body harder against his.

“What should I call you then?” he whispered against your mouth, hands gripping impossibly tighter, finally gripping to your asscheeks. He had to hide a groan from the very back of his throat. “Bunny? ‘Cause you can’t deny you wanna hop on my cock?”

Now that was new.

If you were shocked, your face wouldn’t show it, but your body surely did. Your movements became sloppy, tired, and your chest moved up and down faster than ever. Luke rolled his own hips into yours, moaning uncontrollably at the feeling of his cock being constantly rubbed under your clothes pussy, and at the sight of the small wet patch you had on your underwear.

“Luke. I wanna cum” you moaned out. He liked that you didn’t warn you were going to, but you wanted to. As if you were asking for his permission.

“You won’t get off me until I cum, get it?”

He was a possessed man all of a sudden. His groans, growing deeper with every movement, his hands holding onto you for dear life and his breath twirling with yours as if you were the oxygen he needed to stay alive.

The tight feeling on your belly snapped as fast as you started to feel it. Yet you were obedient, so you kept moving.

The overstimulation was too much already, but when was gonna be the last time you would get to almost fuck Luke Castellan? Probably this time, you wouldn’t want to screw it up.

In fact, you wanted to do so much more. To suck his dick, to gag on it. To let him play with your body as much as he pleased and craved for. To let him take you anywhere and anytime he liked.

It didn’t take Luke long enough to hit his climax too, thankfully. His hips twitched against yours repeatedly as he placed his forehead on your chest. His breath was heavy as if he had run a million miles, his forehead sweaty.

Your hand reached his curls, smoothly running them down the back of his neck as if you were comforting him from the worst experience he had ever had. Little did you know this was his best so far.

“Do we-,” he cut himself off to swallow thickly. He didn’t realize how dry his throat was until he tried to speak. “Do we get to share rooms again?”

“What do you think?”

part two <3

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan smut #pjo series #pjo #luke castellan x you #luke x reader #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #pjo x reader #pjo x you #pjo smut #luke castellan x female reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan imagines

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whowantshota · 3 months

Text

DADDY'S HOME —— kim mingyu

in which your husband comes home late on valentines. but it's okay, he has his ways of making it up to you.

warnings ☆ MATURE CONTENT AHEAD. smut, husband!mingyu, somno, gyu is pussy whipped, kim mingyu x afab!reader

i get off work late today :/

c u ltr, ok?

You frown at the texts, irritability rubbing your thumb against your temples.

This is not the first time your husband has texted you that he’d be late from work, oh of course not. You understand—-sometimes, his schedule is tight and that makes work the temporary number one priority. You obviously mean more to Mingyu than his paycheck.

Or so you thought. You groan, flopping back onto the couch miserably. Mingyu has come late at night at least twice a week for the past month now, so it should be a normal occurrence. At least, if tonight wasn’t Valentine's.

Yes, today was the commercial holiday that pisses about off half the world. And funnily enough, Mingyu had only sworn to you three major things in his life. One, good dick. Two loving you. And three, that he’d never miss Valentine's day.

While the last one was mostly a long inside joke from before you got married, you’re still glancing worriedly at the clock. 9:30 and you’re still holed up alone in your apartment, a box of chocolates with his name on it set on top of the kitchen table.

Mingyu hadn’t promised you a dinner date at a restaurant tonight —you both knew that wouldn't fit with his schedule. But he had promised to cook you something romantic, pour you a glass of wine, and then fuck you till you see stars.

And being very honest, you think you would’ve loved that much more than a night out. Loved it so much, by the way you’re sneaking your hand into your panties. Pushing one, two fingers in; but it's never good enough—it'll never be Mingyu.

So you quit early, stand up because you're tired of waiting around. He’ll be home tomorrow. You can wash up now, clean up and see him later. It’ll be fine. You can celebrate then, right?

★ . *- .

Mingyu didn’t think he’d be making up Valentines like this. When he thought about it on the way home, he had pictured at dinner out at your favorite restaurant, or flowers and an even bigger gift basket than the ones he had already bought for you.

But, you didn’t hear the crack of the door, or the creek of the apartment floors when he walked in. You didn’t even hear when the loud thunk! when his work bag hit the floor. Or when he sets down the heart shaped pendant Joshua had picked out on top of a pink gift basket he had planned to give you much earlier.

He realized then, that you would not be waking up for a while. You were tired, basically passed out. He does feel bad for making you wait so long, but shit, he swears his cock never throbbed as hard as it did when he caught the sight of your sleeping figure curled up in bed. Only in a small tee and new pair of panties he got you a couple of weeks ago. Fuck, you look perfect.

So he went, took a shower and got dressed before laying next to you in bed. You murmur something when his arm wraps around you, snuggling into him. But you don’t wake up.

“Pretty,” he mumbles, slowly running his thumb over the skin of your cheek. He pokes you a couple of times with a finger. You look so cute—eyes shut with your mouth partially open. You might’ve been drooling even.

His hand dips down to your torso, rests on your hip. He was nearly starting to fall asleep too, blinking in a poor attempt to keep himself up too. And right then, you just had to shuffle, pushing back against him. A small noise slips past his lips when the curve of your ass pressed against his clothed, semi-hard cock.

Poor Gyu, stuck in bed while you’re sound asleep. How’s he supposed to take care of that? He feels his cock twitch again, grip on your hip tightening just barely.

It wouldn’t be a problem if he just helped himself, right? Inhaling, his hand moves a bit further, hooking around the bottom of your panties. He prods against the warmth of your entrance pushing a finger in.

Fuck, you’re so wet. He can hear the sound of your slick when he presses another finger inside. It’s almost as if your cunt is begging for him to fuck you. And it’s only right that what his lovely wife and her pretty cunt wants, they get.

Mingyu pulls his fingers out, sucks on it. Moving slowly, he climbs until he’s hovering over your still figure. There’s a tight feeling in his core, dick hard as pulls the crotch of your panties to the side. He pulls the waistband of his sweats down, groaning when cold air hits his cock. He spreads your legs a little wider, teases himself against your pussy.

Mingyu sees Heaven when the tip slips past your entrance. Swears he could cum on the spot. You’re so warm, so soft. It’s not his fault, you’re the one who lured him into this trap.

He can do a little more than the tip. You haven’t moved yet, still partially twisted one way with your legs spread wide for him. You were just made to take his cock, weren’t you?

He should have been making up Valentines with a picnic date in the park. Should have been thinking about what he’ll cook you for breakfast tomorrow morning, if he’ll deliver it to you with a card and a rose.

Instead, he’s got you trapped under him on the mattress, seemingly so passive and docile as you sleep, not conscious of the fact that he’s got you stuffed with his fat cock. He wonders if you’re dreaming about it now. You’re not necessarily a deep sleeper, so he’s surprised you don’t wake up when he bottoms out.

He doesn’t know what to say, can’t even speak. You feel so good, too good. Cunt wrapped around him, clenching. He’d kiss you if you were awake right now, but you’re not so he’ll settle with what he has. He fucks a soft thrust into you, watching for your reaction. Your breath catches, but you don’t do more than that.

“Perfect. You’re just perfect, baby.” He groans, pulling out until the tip before he forces himself back in. You let out a moan, arching so slightly. Mingyu thumbs your nipple through your shirt, speeding up the pace of his strokes.

He dips his head to press a kiss to your sternum, lips skimming and peppering kisses along your collarbone next.

You twist just barely under his hold, eyes fluttering open. You’re still coming to, blurry eyes barely making out the sight of Mingyu’s body caging over you. Whining, you bite your down on your lip when you feel the stupidly fat cock slowly fucking into your cunt.

“Hey baby,” Mingyu murmurs, now kissing the side of your neck. Your whimpers get louder, and you move one arm and snake your it over his shoulder. He groans when you clench on him, sucking harder on your skin. “Don’t worry baby, daddy’s home.”

Tiredly, you rub your eyes with your free hand. There’s pleasure building in your stomach rapidly, and you start to force yourself to sink deeper onto his cock. “Gyu– daddy, please.” You cry, fucking back on him.

You hear him hum in response, but you can’t answer. Not when he’s picking up the pace of his strokes, pushing hard, deep thrusts into your tight cunt. “Yeah baby? Come on, tell daddy what you need.” He teases, pushing your legs back before moving to grope your ass cheeks with his big hands.

Now that you’re awake, Mingyu tightens his grip, fucking into you harder. “Need Daddy to help you cum, hm?” He says, voice playful. As if he wasn’t the one whimpering and fucking himself into your pussy moments ago.

“Couldn’t help it, you looked so good.” He murmurs. His hips are starting to buck into your sloppily, You mewl, nodding. Pretty sure you might even be drooling but you couldn’t give a fuck. Everything feels too good, and you’ve got no idea what’s going on. Mingyu says something you can’t hear, kisses along your jawline before he presses his lips to yours.

You can barely make out the “Happy Valentines.” he whispers, cumming too hard. Your cunt clenching around his dick, mouth falling open. He wants to spit in it, call you a slut, but he can’t when he feels you pulse around his cock.

Gyu’s eyes roll back, and he lets out a low hiss, warm cum filling up your cunt. His body flops over yours, sweaty chest pressing to the front of your shirt. You run a hand through his hair, kiss his nape softly. “Someones late,” you joke, voice breathy.

“I know. ‘M sorry.” he says, moving down so that his head lies on your chest. He loves the feeling of you tugging on his hair slightly, ruffling his hair.

He looks up suddenly, disheveled but handsome as ever. “I’ll make it up. Wine and spa?”

You laugh, seeing the way he pouts. He looks like a giant puppy, cuddled up into you. You love it, love it so much you’re not even remotely bothered by the mess on cum or the fact that he still hasn’t pulled out. Pushing his hair back with a hand, you kiss him on the forehead once more. “Sure. Happy Valentines.”

didn't realize that even tho it's still valentines in my country, it's late in other places :( happy valentines! not beta read

#LMAOOO THE DADDYS HOME LINE #kpop hard thoughts #kpop hard hours #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu smut #kpop smut

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mountainficss · 4 months

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keep having this sick nasty dirty unoriginal thought of cockwarming wonwoo while he’s playing his lil computer games.

gamer!wonwoo that would just look so gorgeous in the dim lighting of his room, his features illuminated by the light of his computer. you’d stand behind his chair and watch him play, massaging his shoulders and pressing the occasional little kiss to his cheek which would make him smile and blush. he’d even abandon the game and swivel around to face you, the overwhelming feeling of missing you hitting him like a truck as he wraps his arms around your torso to pull you close to him. you were wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties underneath and he still thought you were the most breathtaking human on earth. he’d gaze up at you lovingly through his glasses and ask you in the quietest voice ever if you’d sit with him while he plays. and how could you say no to sweet wonwoo ;( so you sit on his lap while he plays, facing the computer while his arms wrap around you from behind to tap on his keyboard. it would start off innocent at first, but feeling the warmth of your thighs and your ass pressing against wonwoo’s cock would make him needy underneath you. he found it harder to focus on his game, but he didn’t even want to. didn’t care that his friends were in his ear giving him the most shit for his declining game performance, because all he can think about right now is you. he wants to be closer, wants to feel your warmth but is sooo shy and will have trouble even thinking of how to politely ask you to sit on his cock and absolutely ruin him. you’d sense a shift in his behavior and his distracted playing, so you’d just ask him instead, the sudden request making him blush but eagerly nod his head. you’d stand up, pushing his chair back slightly so you can untie the strings of his sweatpants and pull them down just enough so his cock smacks onto his stomach. you’d sit on his lap facing him this time, pulling your panties to the side and slowly sinking down onto him. he’d let out a relieved sigh, feeling your tight warmth around him and distracting him even more from his game. you’d shush him gently and press kisses to his exposed skin, licking up his neck to his ear and nipping it lightly. you wouldn’t move, forcing him to refocus and try to play better and win like he usually does. only after a few rounds of his game would you start to harshly bounce on him when he least expects it, drawing a loud yelp of surprise from him. he’d completely forget about his game, his hands ditching the keyboard so he can wrap them under your (it’s his but that doesn’t matter) shirt and around your waist. you’d scold him slightly for not being able to play properly and he’d let out little mumbled apologies, telling you how he tried so hard to win for you but he just wants your touch more than anything :( just wants to give all of his undivided attention to you because he loves and misses you so much. you wouldn’t stop bouncing on him until you both are out of breath and satisfied <3

won’t be a one time thing either, would definitely be reoccurring. most days you’d let him mute his mic so he can moan and whine as loud as he wants, but sometimes you’d make him keep it on and hide all of his disgustingly lewd sounds from his unsuspecting friends. you’d make him keep conversations with them just so you can hear him struggle to hold back his pretty sounds. all while his face is super red and he’s doing his absolute best to win for you and please you :( i love shy wonwoo so much.

#seventeen smut #thoughts #smut #sub!idol #seventeen #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo smut #seventeen wonwoo #mountainficss

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faeriekit · 21 days

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Feet on the Ground

loose phic phight fill for @oldfashionedbattlehymn

warnings for: murder attempt, discussion of child death

********

Danny wakes up in a garbage bag.

It isn’t as gross as it sounds. Danny’s the only thing in there, and it’s not like the lack of air is going to kill him; he could rip his way out, but honestly, going intangible is just as effective and twice as easy.

And, of course, once he’s phased his way out of the dumpster behind the gas station, Danny is very, very grateful that he didn’t even try. Everything else in there is….eeugh. He shivers.

Well. It’s got to be early morning now—it’s dark. There’s no other cars on the highway. Even the gas station itself is closed, and the stars have already lost their spark.

Time to head home.

Danny wakes up behind the gas station. Again.

…Okay?

The first time, Danny had just assumed he’d fallen asleep somewhere weird while flying around the neighborhood, but a second time is a pattern. It’s definitely not his fault this time either, because there’s no way he would have duct taped his arms and legs together or slapped a gag on his mouth.

That’s kind of. Ominous.

Danny frees himself of the garbage bag first— and thank goodness he doesn’t have to breathe— he floats himself out of the bag and the dumpster, which had…thankfully been given a good scrubbing since last time? There’s some other trash, apparently, but nothing sharp enough to cut through his durable, tape-based bonds. It takes some finagling and some eye lasers for Danny to finally get his arms free.

And. Hoo Boy. There’s no more liberating a feeling than peeling tape off your mouth, even if your mouth skin kind of comes off with it and you bleed a little. But it’s fine! It’s green, which means it’ll heal.

Fabulous. Danny zooms off invisibly into the night, more than willing to put the night behind him.

…Okay, the third time is what makes it more than a coincidence.

Danny shucks out of the bruise-tight ropes around his wrists, torso, knees, and legs, spits out his gag, and flies home. He finally has to give into the inevitable, and attempts the last resort:

“Jazz?” he whispers, slowly rocking his sister in her bed. Jazz mumbles in her sleep.

“Jaaaaazzy…” Danny tries again, trying not to look either too spooky or too imposing. Jazz’s reflexes are such that—

The laser she keeps under her pillow goes off. Danny loses a few millimeters of hair, which means that her aim is getting better.

He doesn’t have any trouble seeing in the dark (or, uh, not anymore, anyway), but it’s easy to see Jazz’s sleepy squint as she pulls herself somewhat upright. More like a shrimp with scoliosis, but, well. You know.

“Whuh,” Jazz asks. “...Danny?”

“Hey,” Danny whispers, a ghost at her bedside. Jazz grunts. “Uh. What does it mean when you keep waking up in a trash bag behind the gas station?”

Jazz blinks. Jazz rubs her eyes. Jazz blinks again, looking more sleepy than coherent but at least somewhat aware of her surroundings.

“Garbage bag?” Jazz asks blearily. “You were in a garbage bag?”

“Yeah,” Danny whispers back. “My legs were tied down?”

“...Danny, were you murdered?”

Danny stops.

“Huh?” says Danny.

“So, if you look here,” Tucker points out, finger not quite touching the glass of his CRT monitor, “That’s when Danny gets murdered.”

There is a collective eeew from the assembled viewers— Jazz, Sam, and Danny, all crowded in Tucker’s room.

“Yeah, Tucker agrees. The light from the black-and-white footage flashes in the reflection of his glasses. “Here’s where he’s tossed in…there. And this is when they tossed him in the dumpster.”

There’s no sound on the gas station surveillance footage, but Danny imagines that his body clanged on the way in. What the hell. Danny got murdered behind a gas station, and he didn’t even notice?!

They watch the archived footage of a Ford F-150 driving off the property, and then Danny’s dead body being unceremoniously tossed in a dumpster. It’s kind of surreal. No one had noticed. There was no one to report the crime committed.

“I can’t believe that guy just clocked you over the head, like that,” Sam points out. “It’s just a regular car jack. It shouldn’t have gotten you in the first place.”

The observation isn’t appreciated.

“Be nice! My brother was just murdered,” Jazz scolds. Danny doesn’t think she sounds as offended as she should be. “Either way, it’s certainly an attempted murder, if not a successful one. We have to do something.”

“…Can’t we just call the cops?” Tucker asks, turning away from the computer. “I mean. Look. That’s proof. We have proof right here.”

Sure enough, there is footage. Right there. There’s Danny’s murder, in 240p black and white.

“Where’s the body?” Sam asks dryly, and. Uh. That’s a problem they’ll have to solve.

Everyone looks at everyone else. No one has a good solution.

“…Do we have to do this?” Tucker realizes at the same second as the rest of them.

Jazz looks at Danny. Danny looks at Sam. Sam looks at Tucker.

Tucker stares back at them, entirely unenthused with the conclusion they’ve come to.

“…Okay then,” Jazz exhales. “How do you want to do this?”

Sam ends up on top of the gas station, a cell phone in her hand.

Tucker, PDA in hand, sits in Jazz’s passenger seat. The camera feed is ongoing and recording for posterity.

Jazz taps her fingers on the wheel of her car. There isn’t anywhere better to hide than down the road and around the corner, so she does, hoping that they’re on the other end of the road from whoever’s killing her brother every night.

Danny is, of course, wandering through the neighborhood.

Losing her baby brother—on purpose—is the worst thing Jazz can imagine. She feels sick. She wants to throw him into the car and speed away, and break every speed limit law in the county on her way out. She wants to pack him in bubble wrap and ship him expedited to France.

But she does leave her brother alone. She lets Tucker look over the footage as Danny roams around town, just as unaware and unsuspecting as his last few outings.

Tucker sees the man first.

He bolts upright, eyes on his PDA. “Jazz.”

Her head whips around. They watch, silently, as someone approaches Danny’s lone figure on the doorstep outside the gas station.

They can’t hear anything. That’s the scariest part.

“Call,” Jazz demands. Tucker does.

Doubtlessly, on the roof of the gas station, Sam is dialing too.

So. Danny knows this guy.

And. Uh. It’s kind of embarrassing; he’d asked if Danny was okay walking home alone at night a few hours before his dumpster wake-up call, and Danny had said it was fine.

Apparently, no, it wasn’t fine. That being said, Danny hadn’t been expecting a guy in a button-up and khakis to be the guy murdering him on the down low. He kind of looks like the dude who sells you televisions and burner phones at a Wal-Mart.

The guy comes all the way over to where Danny is sitting on the thin concrete step of the gas station. His breath fogs up from the weather and his eyes rake over Danny, up and down; down and up.

“Hey,” he says, looking all the world like any other concerned citizen. Danny’s heart throbs. “It’s cold outside. You need a ride back to town?”

“…No,” says Danny, who doesn’t.

“Your mom okay with you comin’ home late by yourself?” the man asks nervously, hands going to his hair.

Danny thinks about how many times he’s woken up in the dumpster. He thinks about seeing his own body on the camera tape. Prone. Dead.

“You still keep a car jack in your passenger seat?” Danny asks instead.

The man freezes. An attempted murderer he might be, but he’s not exactly an Oscar-winning actor. “What?”

“The car jack,” Danny repeats. He doesn’t know if he’s mad the man keeps targeting him, or whether he’s grateful Danny’s the only one who’s died so far. “It’s got a lot of sharp corners. They hurt, you know.”

The man…carefully laughs the statement off, but he looks. Nervous.

Danny doesn’t really need to confront him; he only has to stall long enough that Tucker or Sam can call the cops, so that they can see this man’s face and get him on the record. But.

There’s a part of Danny…

The man looks so human. Flush with blood. Solid enough to break. Fragile enough to be made broken.

Danny still resents being made dead. This man didn’t kill Danny—not in any way that mattered, but he’s an easy target.

He doesn’t breathe. The man watches a boy sit in the shadows of a building where he’s been dumping bodies, and Danny can taste his fear.

“It hurt a lot,” Danny says, and he isn’t referring to waking up in the bags every couple of mornings in the last few weeks. “It hurt so much. I was screaming.”

The man is silent.

“Do you like to hear the screaming?” Danny asks, suddenly curious. Did he care, if Danny had screamed, or if he had been too unaware to notice he was dying? Would he have cared, if there were others more breakable than Danny that he had hurt?

He doesn’t answer.

“I don’t like it,” Danny confesses. In a horrible way, it’s easy to tell his would-be murderer about his death—unlike Tucker or Sam, who witnessed it, or Jazz, who loves him, this man can’t be affected by Danny’s take on his own death. In fact, if he is hurt by the thought of Danny’s death…good. It’s better if he is. If there is remorse in him. “I don’t like to hear screaming. I screamed for so long, and so loud. It felt like forever.”

The man’s hands curl. He steps back.

Danny can’t help but to frown. If he leaves, the whole point of calling the cops will be for nothing, and he’ll be warier of coming back to where Danny’s body was dropped. “Where are you going?”

The man takes another step back. Danny rockets upright. He’s on his feet in seconds. “Weren’t you here for me?” Danny asks, genuinely confused, arms outstretched. “We’re here. You dumped me here over and over again.”

“Shut up,” the man snaps, startling the both of them with his volume. “He—you’re not real. You’re… Be quiet. I have real things to get done tonight!”

Danny’s dead heart throbs. Is there another dead kid? Did Danny let another kid get killed in Danny’s place? “Do you?”

The man loses his voice.

“We’re already here,” Danny points out. He steps closer—closer to the truck that drove his dead body around town, further from the dumpster where his body had been dropped. The disposal hadn’t been a funeral, but it’s closer than anything Danny’s ever had. “You’re here. I’m here. Aren’t you here for me?”

A choked breath. Danny gets closer. The ectoplasm in his skin is too warm and too cold—but he has no idea what he looks like from the outside. Is he glowing? Is he see-through? Does he just look like any other dead kid: a little too cold, a little too pale?

They’re eye to increasingly shorter eye. Up close, the man just looks like any other guy. Shaved in the face. Wrinkles around his eyes. A nose. A mouth.

Danny’s not afraid of him. His head tilts. “You’ve already killed me three times. What are you going to do now? I’ll just come back again. I won’t even notice. I died. I know what you look like—I know how to find you. It’ll be easy.”

The man’s pupils dilate—

And then there’re hands on Danny’s neck. And. It’s kind of painful, but Danny doesn’t have to breathe. So. He just kind of…pretends to be hurt?

He’s meant to be stalling for time. The cops are coming. All he needs is time.

So Danny makes some somewhat dramatic sounds and kicks out with his feet, because a fight lasts longer than a passive victim. He lands a hit to the man’s stomach, and another to his chest—he doesn’t drop Danny the way Danny might have expected, but Danny isn’t going to run out of air, so this can last forever until the man lets go. Or does something.

“Stop— coming— back,” the man snarls, and suddenly sounds nothing like the dudes who man the tech counter at the Walmart. “I got you— you should be gone!”

Danny is gone. But he’s also here. And he’s also been gone for a very long time, and he’s also getting choked out by a guy in a gas station parking lot. It’s been a rough few hours of waiting for this dude. He might as well make it worth it.

So maybe his body turns a little translucent. Just a little. Just enough to see the streetlight through his skin, probably, and the hazy road behind them.

Getting thrown to the concrete hurts, but, you know, not as badly as getting tossed into a wall by Skulker on a rampage. Danny’s barely going to be bruised after this.

The guy runs to his car, and Danny frowns, scrambling back up, and, wait. Wouldn’t having bruises be better? As evidence? They better not heal too quickly, or else that’ll be it of his physical proof.

“Where are you going?” Danny asks, more perplexed and angry than anything. Isn’t he supposed to try to kill the witness??

But the guy hauls butt into the cab of his truck— and then the lights go on and the tires start spinning, the engine roaring to life.

If Danny wasn’t actively on camera at the moment, it would be easy to fly after the car. As it is, he’s pretty fast, but he’s not quite quick enough on his feet to chase after a pickup truck careening down the highway in the dark.

The man’s gone in a few seconds. Honestly, Danny’s kind of annoyed about the whole thing. It would have been nice for it to work.

Sam climbs down from the roof of the gas station, phone in her hand. “No, I just— he choked out my friend and drove off! Send someone over here already!! You— do you need the license plate again?!”

Danny just looks at her. Sam covers her phone’s mic with a hand: “They’re saying five minutes,” she mouths.

Great.

Danny hunkers down, throat bruising, and Sam sits down beside him. They wait.

By the time the cops pull into the gas station, the guy’s more than out of sight. Sam’s the one who takes the lead on dictating their story. Danny sort of doesn’t realize how out of it he is until someone tries to throw a shock blanket on him. He almost hits the guy square in the face— and Sam’s the one who has to catch his arm.

Uh. Oops.

Jazz and Tucker roll in, hardly pretending to have not been nearby; Jazz wraps her arms around him, and Danny lets her.

Sue him. It’s late. He’s tired.

“...And I can’t believe you weren’t able to get down the road in time to catch a man who choked out my best friend,” Sam snaps, which, aw! Danny’s a best friend. The cop she’s attempting to strip down for parts looks less sympathetic than Danny feels. “You’re barely a ten minute drive up the highway! What were you doing, meandering?”

“No,” the cop grits out, eying Sam like a bug on his shoe. “We were telling the officer down the road what to look out for.”

Apparently, jamming the gas down hard enough to bust your speedometer gets you pulled over at the speed check.

The night is over before Danny knows it. Someone gets him to the station, someone takes photos of his bruises and takes his statement. Someone calls Mom and Dad and then Danny’s in the GAV, half asleep and exhausted beyond belief.

He falls asleep on the couch, Mom’s fingers in his hair.

It’s not like the Amity Park police tell them anything, but Jazz is the one who finds the report on the news.

She records it on the TiVo for him.

“Eustace Miller, from Tennessee,” Sam reads aloud, knee to knee on his couch. Tucker adjusts his glasses. “Looks like he was already on the run.”

“Or as good as,” Tucker agrees quietly. “Looks like they’re pinning a couple of cold cases to him.”

They watch; there’s pictures of him from his hometown, and from the towns he would visit on his joyride across the country. There were pictures of his family. There were pictures of kids Danny would never meet: kids who were already dead, and who had been for months. Years, even.

They’d looked so happy in the photos from when they were alive.

…Danny could relate.

Jazz turns the report off that night, thumb on the power button. And that’s all it takes for Danny to stop waking up in a trash bag.

#phic phight 2024 #tw murder #tw child murder #tw death #I think that covers it???#wait #tw choking #there we go #Danny works out some of his feelings about dying young #danny phantom #phic phight #this is very quickly being edited and posted on lunch break please bear w/ me #faer fic #sam manson #tucker foley #jazz fenton

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onelittlespiral · 19 days

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FML: Urged

I think this was the photo that got me in. Of course I get the appeal now. But at the time I thought I was just messaging some other random torso on the apps. I was supposed to just be in and out, no strings attached. After all, he wasn’t my usual type. Looked like a roided out gym rat: bit of a gut; dark, wiry hair; and thick muscles. But muscles weren’t the thickest thing about him, and who was I to pass up a good time?

So I went over to his place. I wasn’t surprised when it was a loft above a small gym. Seemed like the ideal spot for the kind of guy. What I was not expecting was the apartment itself to be so…nice? Normal? I was prepared to get fucked on a twin-sized mattress on the floor, no frame, with sweaty clothes rotting around me. But the apartment had some character. He even offered me something to drink before we got started, in an actual glass. Maybe I needed to raise my standards. We chatted, flirted a bit as I finished my water and let things get hot from there. We kissed in the kitchen, made out in the living room, and worked our way back to his bedroom as sweatshirts, belts, shirts, pants, and straps trailed behind us.

As I positioned a pillow under myself, he took off his wife beater, the last barrier between us. The shirtless torso that seduced me was on full display as I rubbed his chest. As he leaned in to kiss me, I felt engulfed by this bear of a man, skin electric where I felt his hair ticking my bare chest. My senses felt heightened as I tasted cheap beer on his breath and smelled a deep musk of sweat, cum, and Old Spice, more in line with what I had expected from him. He ran his calloused hands over my chest and abs before finally taking up position over my trembling body. I wanted him in a way I hadn’t felt since I was a teen. Normally I would want to talk a bit more, at least give a safe word. But as he surrounded me and I felt his presence, my brain flipped a switch as my body instinctively relaxed for him. There were no thoughts to be had as my mind was consumed by his rich scent, the pleasure of his cock slowly stretching out my ass, and his intense gaze set on my fluttering eyes. At last I felt his bush pressed against my clenching ass. He lingered for just a moment, every throb of his member sending shivers through my body. He leaned in and whispered, “You feeling good, baby?”

I could only moan a bit in response. Feeling his weight bear down on me and his cock in my ass left no room for words. He shoved his pit in my face and I instinctively took a deep huff. Any resistance and tension left in my body released. I felt filled by him, just a vessel for his use. I was about to stick out my tongue when he pulled back and repositioned himself. He held my shoulders as he began moving his hips.

As he slowly began to fuck me, I felt him reach new depths within myself.

“There you go, much better. Let yourself just float”

I couldn’t resist him even if I wanted to. His cock methodically jackhammering my hole had my body riding wave after wave of pleasure. Then, I felt him tense up a bit as his cock swelled just a bit more telling me what was to come. He buried it deep as a pressure built within myself. A few more thrust from him and I shot my load over his furry chest. My mind could no longer handle it. I slipped off into a void of pure bliss, as this stranger collapsed on top of me, feeling his damp fur against my body and filling my senses once again with his musk.

I woke up the next day back in my own bedroom. No one else around. No signs of trouble. No clue how I got back. If the whole experience hadn’t been so vivid, I would have thought I dreamt the whole thing. But as I rolled myself out of bed and into the bathroom, one change became very clear.

Seemingly overnight I had lost my smooth skin and dirty blonde curls. In its place was hair. Thick, dark, course hair. It covered my chest, my arms, my back, even my crotch. I was shocked but, also, something else began to tickle at my brain. I took off my tank to get a better look at the forest. I flexed my muscles and admired the way it coated my chest and seemed to exaggerate its size. I hit a double bicep pose and smelled a familiar scent. The scent of sweat and heat and masculinity. My mind flooded with images of that night as my cock stood at attention. I shoved my face into my own pit as I bagan jacking off in front of the mirror, admiring my new body. It felt strange but satisfying, watching this stranger in the mirror mimic my every move as I lusted for him. I didn’t realize how far I had gone until I saw the stream hitting the mirror. It was hot, but something still didn’t feel right. As I cleaned up the restroom, I picked up my razor and considered cleaning myself up a bit. But as I lifted it to my face, I noticed my newly hairy pits. Exposing them, the scent of last night invaded my mind again and I couldn’t follow through. I finished getting dressed and I left for the day. With a busy schedule, maybe I could get some answers tomorrow. I think that was the last chance I had to do something, divert from the path laid out for me. But looking back, I don’t know if I would have changed a thing.

No day was as sharp a change as the first, but each morning as I looked myself in the mirror, something was a bit different. Maybe it was the sharpness of my jaw. Or were my pecs always this swoll? One week I swore my feet were growing larger. There is no way that they always slapped the ground like that. But my shoes always fit perfectly. Heck I may even need a new pair soon. My joggers were beat up as hell and reeked when I took them off after my Saturday runs. But soon it was the days that I couldn’t find anything that looked different that began to worry me most. Had I always thought so much about the bodies of the men around me? Did people always talk so fast? But as life slipped back into routine. Soon I began to question myself. Why had I worried so much about any changes? Things never actually seemed out of place, and I worked out hard to get these gains. I had been going to the gym for years and had spent tears perfecting my splits. After about two months. I stopped worrying at all. Until finally, one day I woke up and looked myself in the mirror, I saw the same man who greeted me for years.

I was a sweaty gym rat. Always had been. Always would be. I took a deep huff of my own funk, and rubbed my muscles. But everything fell into place, something felt missing. I shouldn’t have to keep this godly body and musk to myself. For the first time in a while, I hopped onto the apps and started scanning through. God, all these old matches were terrible. Why did I used to have such a thing for those muscled-up college boys? They couldn’t grow a beard if their lives depended on it. Besides, I think I wanted someone a little more…submissive. Scrolling through, my eyes caught on this young 20-something twink. Something about him reminded me of someone…someone I used to know. His lithe body, tight curls, and skimpy clothes told me he was a bottom before I clicked on his profile. A few messages back and forth, and he was on his way.

He walked in the door and it was all I could do to contain myself. Something deep within me wanted my seed deep in his ass. I needed him to worship me. I wanted him to become just like me. I had no patience as my body acted on instinct. I stripped my shirt and calmly approached, placing my hand against the wall behind him. As my masculinity and musk washed over the twink, I watched as his eyes fluttered a bit and knew his mind was submitting.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” I asked plainly.

“Ye-yes, sir.”

I grinned as I understood fully now just what had happened to me, and the power I held. But watching this twink practically trembling in front of me, maybe I was even better than my captor had been.

I gave him a quick kiss as I lead him to my bedroom. I couldn’t wait to make another man in my image.

#male transformation #transformation #reality change #musk #bro #hypnosis #fml #muscle tf

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darlingofvalyria · 8 months

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❝I am the Heir's Wife. I bore the Heir his lineage. I will not be swept aside.❞

[ The Prince Jacaerys Velaryon should have known his wife better— or at least, her ire, for when his trysts with the bastard Snow reached the Spiders and soon, the ears of his Princess Consort, rage and war drummed for Winterfell, demanding heads.

—Maestre Kevan, Volume IV of The Bastard Eater, passage chapter under 'The Flame that Sung for the North'. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 10,062 ] [ series masterlist ] | jacaerys velaryon x targaryen aunt!reader (aegon's twin sister), one-sided aegon ii x reader, jace x sara snow

contains— canon divergence - manipulative reader, targcest, smut, angst - post-vizzy t death, rhaenyra is queen - mentions of children, pregnancy, childbirth - allusions to infidelity & character death(s) - targaryen madness, revenge, domestic violence (not jace), unhinge behaviour, intense use of 'bastard', profanity, gaslighting, guilt-tripping - this is basically gone girl, you gone girl jace - dark fic - mentions of depression (aegon ii), allusions to suicide (not reader) - nsfw: oral (f receiving), breeding kink, creampie - no kings, no martyrs, no betas.

a/n— i didn't think i was going to do the sara snow thing, but herewe are. also i just wanted an excuse to go absolutely ape shit. reader gets very intense, like thoroughly unhinged. this is literally me supporting women's wrongs. it is also quite insane that this reached 10k and it's still just the first part lmaooo + comment, reblog & like at will!

"THAT FUCKING BASTARD! THAT GODSDAMNED, WHORE-FUCKING STRONG HALF BREED!"

Your shrieks echo stone and shadow, interrupted only by the things you pick up and hurl. Anything your hands grab, you throw and spit obscenities against, rage and tears ruin your pretty visage. The fury swept past your cherub features, a dragon breaking through the Hightower seams, upending fire and roar from the pits of your being.

"HOW DARE HE?! I GAVE HIM AN HEIR! I BROUGHT HIM PEACE! I BETRAYED—" you roar, pulling your pearl dagger— a gift from your Strong Bastard of a Husband — and throwing it to your vanity mirror, glass shards exploding. "— MY KIN!"

"DAUGHTER, PLEASE!"

Arms wound across your torso—hardened and chain-mail — as you fight against your bounds before a pain flashes to your cheek. Your rage quiets, hard breaths from your lungs. You turn your tear-stained anger to your mother and her palm, fright and terror on her regale visage.

Death of a spouse becomes the Queen Dowager in her pale blue robe and unbound spirals of auburn hair. Peace had begotten a realm that is balanced on the lineage you had produced for the Queen, her heir, and your own, as the new Princess of Dragonstone. With Otto Hightower for evermore banished to Oldtown, Kings Landing had been brought to a flowering kindness.

Queen Rhaenyra's ascension had been a wondrous affair, fit the for the first crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Not a Queen Consort, not a Queen Regent. An heir who rose for the crown always meant to be hers.

But the calamity that brewed in her ascension... no. You paved the peace. T'was you who wrangled the Great Houses that proved allyship to your twin brother's banner, you who blessed her with tranquility of a rule that will be known for ages that will precede you all.

And now her son... her son dared to destroy everything.

A conversation floats above your head, by your Queen Mother and her sworn shield, the Ser Cole, but you barely hear anything past the ringing in your head.

The Targaryen Madness the sheep so call it, an idle voice, faint and familiar, whispers in the niches of your brain. It has infected you so. It breathes, fuelled by the air wrought by your husband's betrayal. It sings, sweet love. It sings.

"—your grace, I urge to hold her—"

"—she is my daughter, Ser Cole, I am not in danger. Release her."

Justice, the voice shrieks? Screams? But it is so soft in your head, a wail of a memory, a woman or a man? must be had. No dragon falls in such disgrace.

The tight wound over your torso is unleashed but the knight is not far, tensed to cage you, when your mother grasps your elbows as you grab hers, nails digging into the thick fabric of her hem that she still winces, your grip steel-tight.

"My darling, please. I cannot help you if you do not speak what ails you." She brushes her hand desperately across your face, smearing your tears, trying to find the daughter she bore past the savagery and madness that beholds you now. "What has happened?"

You draw a tightened, harsh breath to your lungs, rattling your bones that you quiver in your attempt for sanity.

"I am being shamed, mother," you whisper. Stark, violet eyes meeting the worried round, brown of hers. "The Strong bastard is whoring himself to another, a Northern bastard."

A cackle falls your lips as alarmed gazes are exchanged above your head.

"Y-You cannot say such things aloud, sweet girl," your mother hushes your madness, pulling you close to her chest as she shoots a glance at the door.

Criston checks outside, but only your maids linger. Dyanna presses a finger against her lips, catching the knight's eye, and the rest scatter, surely to make sure that no one that need not know of their mistress' words is within reach. A shiver still runs his spine. He will never get used to the quiet, almost non-verbal way your connection worked and reached. Your Spiders weave webs all around, even as their mistress sunders with rage.

"Mayhaps you are mistaken, for sure the prince is loyal, and he adores you—"

You pull back against her, teeth bared. She flinches and Ser Cole steps forward, wary. "It is the third missive now that I have received. Did you think I would not have confirmed twice— thrice? I didn't believe it the first time! But three people have now confirmed that all this time, in the guise of rallying his mother's cause in the North, he is spending ample time with the Lord Stark's bastard sister. His bastard fucking sister!"

Your mother's horror catches that of Ser Criston's, but your fury is your own, you are a dragon trapped in the ruin of your own making, of the webs you had spun so cleverly to get to this point, and you cannot stop.

"I am the Heir's Wife. I bore the Heir his lineage, my blood spilled the birthing bed for it." A cry leaves your lips as your grief and rage pools like ichor from your chest to the floor. Alicent is torn away from you— your nails had gone through her robe and she had cried in pain, a mimick of your own, a mother to a daughter to a mother to a daughter, a cycle, an Ouroboros — and you fall to the floor, grasping at your chest.

"I will not be swept aside. I will not be ignored."

A gasp falls from your lips as your mind moves to a quiet, still place. The tremble fades, your rage and grief whirls, collects, as you push it all back inside your chest.

Your madness must be sharpened for it be used as a sword.

And you cannot let him be happy in another's arms.

If you cannot drag them to the Hells, sweet dragon, the idle voice hums, hisses? Screeches. Your ancestors— all of those who have succumbed to dreamy madness — appears in the corners of your vision like soldiers. Awaiting for you to join them. Awaiting the blood that you will spill.

Then you must raise the Hells unto Winterfell.

"...my daughter?" Alicent calls, hesitant. Cole hovers but does not approach, standing guard in protection of the Dowager. It breaks her heart to see you this way, a young woman still, much older than she was when she married but only because you had always sought your future. You had always had a hardened scale, far stronger than she.

Even when you made your entrance to the world— the unmeasurable pain of bringing not one, but two heirs into the world, her firstborns, all at once — you had never cried. The maestres, maids, they worried for you, as your twin brother had not stopped crying, so alive and red, raw from the wound of being fresh.

But you... you had not made a sound.

The entire weight of your being— your mind, your emotions — even then, you wrangled them close to your very centre, never letting them stray too far from the edges of your fingertips. As if any release must be made with a perused thought. An incentive of reason.

Even then, you plotted every step you took.

Now, Alicent watches as her firstborn daughter suctions all her emotions— that Targaryen madness that plagued the blood of her husband, his ancestors — and made her ploy.

Against the husband that dared make a fool of her.

The silence beckons nightmare. Old fear flickers inside the Queen Dowager.

"Where are my daughters?"

"What?"

"My daughters," you repeat, a hair's breadth louder than the first time you spoke. Your eyes flutter upward. The deadened gaze curled Alicent's heart in fear. "Where are they?"

"In the nursery, with the twins and Maelor. Helaena and Aegon are watching them."

You offer your hand up mutely, and Cole exchanges one last, lingering look with the Dowager, before offering his own. You stand up, thank him softly, and brush and clean up your face to the best of your ability. An utter calmness over your visage.

"Tell no one of what I had told you," you say, fixing your hair and rubbing the red from your cheeks. One minute there is madness, the next there is nothing. There is only a girl. A woman. A princess. "No one knows apart the three of us, and if you ever decide, Ser Criston, that nigh is the glorious time for you to betray my mother or I, know that the last thing thing oyu will fear is the Stranger's hand when I am through with you."

Your mother shouts your name, horrified. "What are you thinking? What are you plotting?"

You cup Alicent's face, smiling ever sweet. "Your innocence will keep you safe, mother. All I ask, for the heart you keep for your children, that you keep this between sealed lips and tilted chin. You know nothing, yes?"

"... Yes. Nothing."

You place a tender kiss on your mother's head. "Keep Daenera and Aemma safe for me. Aegon and I are flying to Dragonstone promptly. Sweet Helaena does ever so get overwhelmed by watching all of the children by herself."

"D-Dragonstone?"

Your sweet smile touched with poison, stretches. "It is high time I take a dragon for myself, don't you think so?"

While an insecure obsession had fraught your younger brother about claiming a dragon, you had met it with indifference.

For how can you not mourn the loss of Aemond's sight, staring in quiet horror the entire time as the maestre did his best to salvage the muck mess of blood and nerve endings, before the old man had shaken his head, and you turned to the small bowl that contained your brother's eye, unable to look at anything else.

Not even when your mother's rage was met with apathy and anger, her demands for justice nothing more than a woman's insanity, a mother's grief that must be swept away, tucked under a chin and a sadness she will never get rid of.

"Do not mourn me, mother. It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon."

Your soft-hearted, darling, baby brother. None of his words had thawed the freezing of your heart, the grief under the swell of your breastbone.

Your own mourning was kept between teeth and tongue, as you had slept with your siblings that night. The four of you, tucked under the wing of the other, Aemond close to your chest as possible, as quiet, hot tears ran down your face. Every moan of pain or whimper he made in his sleep tore at each new vein inside of you.

"Dragons are the symbol of our House's power," Aegon had once said, windswept hair you tried to tame with your fingers, smelling fresh of Sunfyre and winds.

"And yet, there were no eggs in our child beds." He stiffened while you smiled sadly, curling your twin's hair away form his face, making him presentable and dusting the bout of sand that managed to find his leathers. You had been scolded long before by your grandsire of how you coddle Aegon, how you defend him, mother him more than your mother ever could, but you cannot stop. You were meant to care for him, tethered you once were inside your mother's womb together, you hold him steady now.

Whenever he was lost, whenever his sadness overtook him, wrung your brother dry of life, you bat the Stranger's hand and bring him back.

"But we have proved them wrong," he insisted. "All of us, even Aemond with Vhagar— the war queen, Visenya's dragon — we have claimed ours. Daeron all the way Oldtown has Tessarion, even Helaena has Dreamfyre. And yet you insist..."

You wound your arms over his torso, keeping him close in a silly hug where you sway and dance him around. A laugh escaped him while you inhaled the scent of smoke, soot, and that grime stench of beast.

Aegon on his good days lacked the bottle-edge of wine, of cheap salts from the waft of the soiled, Silk Streets.

This was your brother. No one else.

"I fare better without one," you whispered in his ear. "I appear innocent, sweet almost, without a beast in my command. They look at me with nothing but pity and the urge to protect me. Our father likes me like this, his poor, lovely daughter without a dragon of her own, listening so intently to his histories of Old Valyria. Our sister is eased, as one daughter is plagued by dreams and struggles with the real world, while the other cannot even claim a dragon of her own. Poor princess, Hightower blood must have thickened in her veins. She too, is no threat."

You pulled back, smiling at him. "They like me better like this. Pitiful, compliant, nothing but a sweet and pretty flower that sways in the Spring breeze. A beautiful decoration but no more."

He rubbed a thumb on your arm, a worry knot on his forehead. Aegon adored you but he struggled to piece together where your plot lies. You are a web-spinner, forever dancing out of reach, catching prey and lengthening your intricacies. "Is that why you hide your training with Aemond alone? Ser Criston is mother's sworn shield, he would not mind—"

"I will not place my secrecies to a knight with a soiled cloaked," you snorted. "No matter how tall he stands beside our mother. I trust no one but my kin. And I know that no matter how heavy you drink, sweet Aeg of mine, my secrets are your own."

He took your hand, kissing the back of it, stare impregnable. "As your blood is my own, our fire is one flame. I go where you tell me to."

You kissed his cheek, a reward, laughing. He smiles proudly at the sound. At this time, you dangled yourself to your brother as bait as the pressure from your grandsire to make him King started rising. You had been given notice that he had been talking to House Lannister, Wylde, even some Riverland lords.

You did not mind becoming Aegon's second wife. Just as his namesake, he will have his Rhaenys and Visenya. Unlike the Conqueror however, he would adore his Visenya more than a true flower. Helaena would enjoy that far better.

"And if I tell you to jump?" you half-purred.

"I will ask you how high."

Memories and choices break and tide as you scramble for hold on the rocky cliff face. Dragonmont in the dark is a behemoth beast, a screech or two breaking like lightning crackles, or the familiar drum beat of wings before the silence consumes once more. The stench of fire, of beasts and carcasses helps cloak the darkened night.

"Udligon ñuha brōzagon, Answer my call," you hiss into fraudulent emptiness, hands gripping rocky edges until your blood beads, "you fucking lizards."

"Have you gone mad!?"Aegon shouted, trying to pace with your run to the dragonpit.

A rocky laugh broke out from your being, not deigning that with a reply. Aegon huffed angrily.

"Alright, tell me this then. How are you so sure I'm not just about to put you on a bleeding volcano to die? We claim your dragon in the morn, sister. First thing before we break our fast. I'm sure by then, Vermithor or—"

You whipped your head around, pulling halt. "I leave tonight to claim my dragon. Whether it is you and Sunfyre who gets me there, or Aemond and Vhagar, is no matter to me. I will claim one tonight. It is up to you to decide now if we tell Aemond or not."

Aemond, whose anger is wounded tight, the barest excuse for war always at the edge of his hum. The misstep at Storm's End had cost him everything. Had cost your mother everything. Queen still, Alicent Hightower had bent the knee and offered her life in exchange for mercy. Before Rhaenyra passed judgement, Viserys I had passed.

It didn't matter that you had ensured a higher dosage from the Harrenhal witch in his usual milk of the poppy. Your spiders moving with ease through the silent channels you had established long before your own flowering.

The Red Keep had scrambled, the Heir with it. It was enough time for Lucerys to have come out of the red, confirmed to live through the worst of it without as much as a broken bone. Arrax however, had been badly maimed, and would no longer take flight. But he and his rider would live. Aemond would live. Alicent would have her son. Rhaenyea will have hers, and the crown.

Kevan had done his duty unto you while you settled the storms in Dragonstone. You rewarded him handsomely.

Aegon sighed. He too, would like your honour avenged, but not for the sake of war. "As you wish, sister. I hope you know what you're doing and I am not about to send you to your death."

Just like what you did to your mother, you reached forward and cupped his face. If before, your touch stills his heart and floods his cavities with warmth, a flash of fear strikes the twin son at the eerie smile on your face.

"Skoros morghot vestri? What do we say to the god of death?"

Aegon blinked. "Tubī daor. Not today."

You smiled. "Trust me, sweet Aeg. It is not my death the Stranger will take. Not until the fjords of the North are at my mercy."

"Iksan kesīr sir naejot māzigon ñuha sikagon pakto! I am here now to claim my birth right!" Your scream echoes and falls, repeating back to you. There is a hum, like an electric current that sizzles and pops inside your blood and marrow, and you scramble higher and higher on the rock. Your blood does not sing for the dragon lairs, but above. Up and up, jagged edges cut your skin and dress, the wind whipping with sea mist, but nothing, no one, can clamour you as you reach the peak.

At first you see nothing but darkness and hollow sounds. But you let your eyes adjust, a hiss breaking out of your dry lips as you stumble. You look down. What you first thought were rocks and wayward bones of cattle is bigger.

Whale? No.

Dragon. Dragon bone.

You look and will every sense that your eyes do not. The smell that is drowned— iron. Bones bigger than a person. Than cows and whales. Bones of fearsome beasts. Darkness moves, taking form, more than shadow. Scales hewn rough and jagged, as if stone themselves. Midnight black moving with the gentlest of sighs.

As soon as you realise what— or who — is in front of you, the eyes open with an intelligent gleam. Your heart jolts at the emerald irises that gaze back at you, slitting at the appearance of a human.

'The stench of death follows him', the voice of an old keeper hums into your ear. You no longer remember who told this to you, but the words ring true in your memory. 'Scales of midnight, as if hewn from darkness and death. A harbinger, your grace, an omen of the darkest nightmares.'

"Rytsas. Hello." You smile, ever sweet, ever charming.

This is a thread you had never felt before. Not one of your own making, but something older. A golden thread that led the eyes of Daenys the Dreamer. That spun the ties of Aegon the Conqueror. The voices that herded your madness had gone quiet in the mad rush to get here, but now their presence thickens. Words you cannot hear, nor understand, flood the silence as dragon met rider for the first time.

Keepers and historians have called him he, but every bone in your body tells you that the being before you is a she.

And wouldn't that make sense? A cannibalistic being is a woman?

She opens her maw, only ever slightly, smoke and fire crackling out of it. Molten lava in the belly of her insides tease the cool, night air and warms you.

Her version of a smile. Hello, she seem to say.

"Māzīs. Come," you say, giggling. "Dohaerās. Serve."

That night, you took your first flight.

That night, the Cannibal took her first flight with her first— and only — rider as well.

❝ . . . It is said that the formerly named "The Cannibal" had been entranced by the hunger of his new— first and evermore — rider. Prince Aegon the Elder who had escorted his twin sister that very night with Sunfyre, had looked up in alarm and fright to a maddened screech. Excitement and laughter pouring out from the newly bonded Dragon and Rider had soon turned fear into awe.

Gaelithox, she had been named as they had ridden until dawn broke by the rider who loved her 'till the end of their days, was said to have seen a mirror in Her Grace. The fathomless hunger for blood and organ from the same bodies of their kin. For Gaelithox ever hungers and satisfies for the same meat as her, at the height of her grief and ire that fuelled the Queen Consort to climb Dragonmont by hand, she too hungered for the throats of her traitorous blood.

Gaelithox will only have one rider in her whole life, as she found no same twin soul as akin in the Bastard Eater Queen. Their bond moved as if two bodies beheld one soul.

She shied from humans, and oft found too rough with other dragons. Vhagar was an exception, oft seen acting as an elder sister to the Queen's dragon when neither royal rode them and played in the skies. Smaller dragons were forbidden to approach her however, nor was she allowed in the dragonpit after almost devouring the flightless Arrax.

She died two moons after the Queen's death, delivering her final flames for her rider and would never more breathe her infamous green flames akin to Wildfire, ordered by the Crowned Heir, Princess Daenera Velaryon. It is said that the princess attempted to bond with the cannibalistic dragon but it refused.

The dragon spent her last moons in heartbreak, oft seen in Dragonstone and the Red Keep, circling her rider's most favourite places. Her final resting place is at the very top of Dragonmont from whence the Queen claimed her. It is said that the Queen's crown, the one the King Jacaerys had gifted her after the birth of their first sons, the Princes Laenor and Gaemon, is said to be placed there, as well as a portion of her ashes.

It is said that the King and the Queen's twin brother, the Prince Aegon, personally made the trek in remembrance.

It is widely suspected that Aelyx, Princess Daella's dragon, the youngest child of the King and Queen, may have been Gaelithox's only existing hatchling for he too is made of rough, midnight scales. The dragon that bred with her remains to be unknown. ❞

—Maestre Kevan Noratz, Volume X of The Life and Lies of the Emerald Flame, passage chapter under 'The Time of Hunger: Gaelithox'.

You leave Gaelithox to a mournful goodbye on Dragonstone, pressing your forehead against her hard, scaly head, promising to come back, of exchanging her diet for fat, juicy whales, for more wind-whipped rides, before riding back on Sunfyre with Aegon. The younger dragon would not rise from the beaches in fear of the cannibalistic elder, but you made ensuring promises to teach Gaelithox not to chew your dearest brother's dragon.

You had gone most of your life without the feeling of a bond beneath you, warm and alive and wild, and the roar and stench that though new, felt so familiar in your ribcage— you will fly again. And with your brothers beside you. With Helaena and her lovely Dreamfyre.

To think they had taken this from you too, to placate them. To play into their hands like a mewling kitten.

No more.

It is paces before fast is about to break when you both touch back down to Kings Landing. The Keep busying with its occupants, servants and maids bolstering with quickened feet to ensure the lords and royals are awakened with full, poached meals, dresses and coats readied for their lords and ladies, a new, glorious day under the Reign of the Black Queen.

"What now?" Aegon asks, trying to keep with your pace but he is fatigued, failing to stop his yawns. The excitement of last night had come upon him like a fog, and he is missing his bed. Hells, he is missing the bed he stays with his wife if it meant he would get a full night's sleep in the hours of the day.

"Now, we speak nothing of what happened."

He turns to you, frowning. "Just like that?"

"Just like that." You beam, nodding in favour of soldiers and maids who bow in reverence to the Crown Princess. You know you smell of dragon and night, and you need a bath. And to talk to Dyanna before you seek your daughters. "I will need time and people. The board must still be set for me to perfectly execute what I have in store."

"Alright." He yawns again. "I'll be in my quarters, passed out, if you need me. Please do not need me until sup."

You laugh breathlessly, grabbing his hand and giving it a wet kiss. "I will give you your rest, be assured. Kirimvose, dōna lēkia, Thank you, sweet brother."

The words are simple, said in a quiet murmur heavy with love and meaning. Aegon presses a loving kiss to your head, unable to stop himself winding an arm around you.

"Syt ao, va moriot, ñuha prūmia. For you, always, my heart."

As you break to each other's chambers— his, to sleep, you, already meeting Yna and requesting for a bath — you don't notice the lurker that watched the intimate moment between twins, humming in amusement before it moves to follow you.

Back in your quarters— your marriage quarters as Jacaerys had requested that you forgo having your own, not wishing to part with you — the maids are already busying themselves airing the room, moving to follow your usual routine. The only thing breaking it is the tub now in the centre.

"Thank you," you say to Yna as she picks out the pins from your hair, shrugging off your dress in the process as soon as the maids had untangled the lace behind you.

"Call for Dyanna," you tell them as they bow and leave, the door clicking softly behind them. Plans must be made. Bath for now.

With the world stifled for a second, left with only you and your thoughts, you plunge your body under too-hot water, sighing against the aches and pains in your body. Dragon-riding is a new endeavour to your muscles, and though enjoyable, was still too new.

You sigh as tears fall from your eyes, blinking exhaustedly against soft, humming daylight. You had always known that love, as it is, is a maiden's folly. A foolish, hapless play meant to fool young girls into thinking the world is kind; a pretty place.

It was an even farther thought from you, a princess of the realm. At a young age, it has been drilled to you that your womb is a rare commodity. Your body has never been your own, a piece meant to be moved in a bigger game that you are used for, not play.

You weren't stupid.

If there's a few things Otto Hightower had ever granted you, apart from gifting you his keen prowess in moving power beneath your fingertips, in hungering for more, for better— it is understanding what each person is, who they can be, how you can move them. A flatter, a flair, a push. As a man, there is much to be desired about your grandsire; he used people, used family to pursue power, but you can't truly fault him for that as you were the same.

You just took better care of the people under your wing.

And for Jace, you had banished him.

The worst part, you knew there was a good, fat chance you would care for the princeling. He was a kind man, a sweet man, and with a guiding hand, you could forge yourself the best husband for yourself as much as you can mould a great king and a wonderful father. Women's hands are ever carved to mould and prod men. We stand behind, a presence or a hand, an echo of power.

But your Jace had surpassed it all, and in the moons leading up to your present day, to giving him his heirs, two beautiful daughters, the promised full Valyrian colouring in the silver hair in Daenera, your eldest, the wide, violet gaze in Aemma— the name of his mother's mother, a request of him that you had kindly, graciously fucking agreed to — of course there is a part of you, the girlish, tender heart that you long thought you had buried to get here, would fall for the brown-eyed, wondrous man.

You sink deeper into the tub, sighing as you let yourself unravel—

When you feel it. A presence in your room. It's soft. Silent. Not a lot would feel as such, but as paranoid as you are, as you keep your spiders clean and pretty with your dewy-eyed webs— you know better.

Your mind runs with ideas on who it might be, and come to a few people. No true name rises. The Red Keep is flooded with spies and traitors. You test your luck, sitting up on the tub, raising an arm over the lip of it and flicking water with your fingertips.

"If you are here to kill me, I'm afraid it will be a lost cause."

He laughs, sardonic and edged and familiar, jetting a tingle down your spine.

Well. There's getting a calm bath.

"Perceptive as always, niece," he says, heavy footfalls approaching now that he has been caught. "I'm just here to say hello."

You raise your eyes, mouth curled but unsmiling at the man who acts as the biggest thorn to your plots. Daemon Targaryen has never fallen through your webs, on guard against your flatter, your push, or your flair. Of course, taking the position of his daughter might have forever burnt that road, but you would think he'd ease up just a little bit when his wife, the Queen, had warmed to you considerably.

Unlike your mother, you had never been hostile to your bitch of an elder sister. Just like your plots for Aegon and Jacaerys, and nodding along to thread your father had started but abandoned, foolishly thinking the realm would follow without him fully ensuring your sister's claim to the throne— you carefully maintained a polite farce with Rhaenyra.

Ultimately, this became a boon to you, as she had responded positively to your abrupt marriage to her son, even reminding her deranged guard dog of their own marriage. The cream to your lemon cake had been when you birthed Aemma, the Queen's most favourite grandchild thus far. When she was a babe, Rhaenyra was never far; almost, always holding your daughter, cooing at her cheeks, remarking her likeness to her namesake with pure fondness.

But Daemon Targaryen knew, in the deepness of his marrow, that there is something wrong with you.

"Hello," you answer primly. He laughs, leaning against the passage to your open balcony. "We could have had this elating greeting at fast, if you wish to break it with me and my own."

He scoffs, unable to hide his disdain at the thought. It breaks his stare of your naked visage. Men. "I would rather jump to the fighting pits, good daughter."

"How rude. Is that all?" You meet his gaze steadily, tilting your head. "If it is not obvious yet, good father, I am bathing."

An amused smirk. "I can see that." Lecherous fucking geezer. "No matter. I just have a... curious thought, a wonder I suspect you may be able to answer. See. Truly odd it is, for the keepers to alert me this morning that Sunfyre had taken a ride past the Hour of Owl." Your heart thuds in your ribcage and you do your best to keep your expression mildly irritated. "Not with one, drunken rider, but with another. It had taken them hours, only coming back when morning had already presented in the air."

He steps forward, slow, menacing, until he reaches the edge of your tub and crouches. Your gazes are still unmatched in height, defiant as yours might be.

"The distinct smell wafts them, a Keeper said, and one suspects that though one dragon left last night, two might have come back this morning for he had seen another fly away." His fingers dips into the water, swirling the steam without breaking eye contact. "I wonder if you know anything about it, darling niece of mine."

The mocking emphasis is not lost on you. If the Queen is the Realm's Delight, you were Darling of the Realm. A sweet, merry girl, the secondborn daughter of Viserys I who frequently fought for the plight of the small folk, who gathered friends of all kinds of lords and ladies no matter the standing of their houses to her own, visiting far lands and charming every person in any room. Who made any feast brighter, always sparkling, always the darling.

Less of a dragon, more of a fairytale.

You sit up, leaning, baring your breasts completely to him as you pull yourself up on the ledge he is crouched from. He leans back, only slightly, as you smile demurely. Sweet. Tart. On the edge of pulling his head and hitting it against the copper tub.

"I am unsure of what you suspect, or is accusing me of, kepus, uncle," you purr and there's a twitch in his mouth, a widen in his irises— men are so fucking simple — "I had been feeling down last night, as my husband, as you know, is beyond my reach at the moment as he rallies alliances for the good of the realm. My brother had simply offered to take me out riding, trying to quell my loneliness with an excitable flight I had never been afforded."

You tilt your head. "Even if there had been a dragon binded to my own, why why would I not regale the realm with news of my success? I have longed for a dragon of my own, but alas, I have not quite succeeded where most of the family have." You pout. His eyes flicker. "Mayhaps I am more Hightower than I am Targaryen."

A huff leaves his lips, the amusement in his smile arching to his dark, dark gaze. Before you can react, his hand had comes forward to hold your chin in a tight grip, your jaw aching soon enough at the fingers that dig against your skin, wanting to bruise, to break.

Though a tremble passes your body, you keep his stare, gritting your teeth as the pad of his thumb brushes your lips. Moments and desires thrum between a charged hatred.

The lust is twisted from wanting to fuck you to wanting to kill you. The line is not simple. Maybe that is your fate together.

But he can't. You are well too ingrained in his family now, loved by the people he cared about. You are untouchable. For now. This is a warning, waiting for you to stutter, to show your hand. Any show of your true intentions... he is more than happy to swing Dark Sister across your throat.

He releases you without another word, standing up and leaving through the front door, the door clicking shut.

You sink back into the bath, letting the water engulf you.

Your daughters are moons apart in birth, and there are only a few differences between them that people oft remarked they could be twins. Daenera is taller, spindly. Built like Aemond when he was younger. Her hair is spun moon and eyes of mullish blue. It reminds you of Daeron's eyes. You had named Daenera yourself, a gruelling birth that took the entire night. You promised Jacaerys he could name the second. He had chosen Aemma for a girl, Laenor for a boy.

Not a few moons later, you were with child again. Your husband pinked at the cheeks at the chiding from his family. When she cried into the afternoon sun—Aemma was born mid day, during a council meeting — he pain did not stop the laugh that came out of your mouth from the horrified expression from the Master of Coin as your water broke.

Aemma had a sweetheart face, cheeks much fatter than her older sister's, with a yellowish tinge to her hair, curlier too, reminding you of Aegon. And Aemma laughed more, her deep, violet eyes always half closed as she exploded in giggles and bright, sunshine happiness.

Sons they might not be, but you had given heirs for the throne. And for them, you would do anything to keep their futures intact. Bond with a dragon, face the Rogue Prince, upheave Winterfell. Anything.

You flounce to the nursery where you know the two would be, smiling sweetly at every person you pass as they bow in reverence. Most wore sights of confusion, their greedy eyes and wagging tongues drinking in the deep, emerald glisten of your gown.

It's an old dress, one you keep in the corner of your collection. It isn't as if you had forgo the colours of your mother's house, but playing court meant every movement, even the clothes you wear, can be meaningful. And since your marriage, your Jace liked you in Velaryon colours.

"A goddess come to bless," he gasped against your collarbone, keeping your legs high on his waist as he rutted into you before his teeth sunk on your skin. As newlyweds go, there is not a lot of teasing to be had for your husband to curl against you in a darkened alcove. Merely wearing his favourite colour on your skin has him panting like a dog. His favourite dress is a seafoam blue that dragged longer against the ground in a soft, almost-gossamer material with a silver belt.

Enticing him never took long, but you enjoyed the dance presented. You enjoyed the dark hunger that filled him until he grabbed you to take you because he just had to take you.

The fresh wound slices deeper as you imagine all the things Jacaerys is doing to the so called Sara Snow. The emerald green of your gown shimmers with your anger.

"Fucking bastards," you can't help but say aloud, nodding at the guards posted on the nursery as you hear the squeals of your daughter and the calm, even voice of your brother.

"Muña! Mother!" Aemma squeals, untangling herself from being pressed against Aegon's side as the children— Daenera and Jaehaera — cuddle around him, before running to you. Helaena is on the floor, entertaining baby Maelor. Your mother, hands twisting against her own, stands vigil by the window, staring far ahead.

You catch your secondborn, giggling as you pressed kiss after kiss on her face.

"I see everyone has started without me. Where is Jaehaerys?"

"You were late, sodjisto, aunt," Jaehaera grins gummily. Jahaera is only a year older than Daenera. Your daughters, five and a half and five respectively. "Jaehaerys is with kepus, uncle. They are training."

"Smart girl." You meet your brother's gaze, whose eyes had notably been staring at your dress, mouth turned down. "Why don't you three play with Helaena? I shall speak about Name Day gifts for your Uncle Joffrey for a bit, hm?"

As Aemma shrieks something about cakes, and Daenera dutifully kissing your cheek in greeting before she takes Jaehaera's hand, you turn to your brother and mother.

"Aemond?" you ask softly, keeping your voice out of earshot. Alicent shakes her head. You nod. "Good. We don't want him inciting a war before I have mine properly planned."

As the Dowager draws in a sharp inhale, Aegon grabs your hands, the worry pulled taunt in his eyebrows. "Are you seriously contemplating war, sister? Isn't there a better way to punish them?"

"What punishment does a man regale in?" you hiss, stepping close to him. "Or the Queen's heir for the bloody matter? When Aemond nearly killed Lucerys, and he confronted me as if I had ordered Vhagar to tear through his brother, I thought I had put to bed any doubts in our marriage. It seems that men stray, regardless. My daughters may be his heir now, but what is to say that bastard wildling he's found himself cock deep in produces a son? Will he shame me with a mistress? Or will he shame me with a second wife?"

Your mother's lips tightens, her fingers paling at how tight she is gripping her nerves.

"Bastard or not, if he takes her to wife, I will be nothing. Make that babe a son, and the realm will rally for it. Daenera is his heir. My daughters will not be forgone. I will not be pushed aside. This is mercy, brother," you say softly, tucking a stray curl behind his ear. "My last one. It requires time, moons, to unfurl. It requires seeding doubt and unfathomable inadequacy. Better if Aemond is none the wiser, Helaena the same. But I will need both of you for this to work. It is the only time I will ever ask. For me. For my daughters."

"And you will punish Winterfell with a war?" your mother asks, frown pulled deep. "That is the plan?"

"I will not. I won't do such a thing so blatant, mother, you know me better than that. But this is my last mercy, and it will be the last. For the next time he offends me so, I do not care if Rhaenyra feeds me to Syrax. I will put a dagger through his heart, heir or not."

The Prince Jacaerys comes back not a week later. Though he comes back to the same castle with the same occupants— your shiny new threads gleam. The stage has been set, a play ready to act. You had sent more spiders in the North, keeping a close eye to every blasphemy your husband has been enjoying in the absence of his duties, and as the rage in you quietly grew with each new whisper, your determination hardens.

You mark each indescretion. You keep a tally.

You count for each fall your blow will land on him.

Vermax lands with a screech and a heavy thump, your husband leaping off him with a grin on his face, matching the one you own, waving your arm joyously with Aemma in your arm and Daenera beside you, holding to your skirt as she grinned at her father.

Aemma wiggles under your hold, and you let Jace get close enough before you set her down, laughing, "Okay, okay!" Her laughter carries through as she scrambles like a bull to her father. A squeal peals out of her as Jace picks her up just in time and tosses her in the air.

"Want to meet kepa, father, sweet girl?" you whisper to Daenera, running a hand down her hair before she nods, breaking out into her own sprint, hugging her father as he greets them with laughter and kisses.

You let them have their time, and this, at least, eases your heart truthfully. A kind reminder that Jace adores his daughters.

You stay at the edge of the entrance, your too-wide grin softens into a smile. You were dramatic, nothing new about that, but even in the pale, pearl blue of your dress in silky, Myrish lace, the emeralds in your heavy, golden belt winks. Green ribbons twisted in your hair alongside fresh flowers. When the trio of your family treks toward you, silver-haired babes clinging to your dark haired prince, you serve a wink at the girls and they untangle themselves from their father while you stepped forward.

A choreographed dance, not giving him time to think. To pause.

Every step is calculated, every item on your body— the silk, the small seahorse that locks your dress behind you, the tint on your lips to the oil in your hair and body — is made to perform. You engulf him in you as if you want to suffocate his senses, your arms wrapping around him with sweet kisses pressing on his face, his neck.

Most in the dragonpit looked away, others, scandalously amazed and enchanted, watch as the princess is undeniably enthralled with her lord husband.

His laughter rumbles across his body, infecting your own, smelling of dragonback and crisp winds. You wonder if your nose is more heightened, you would be able to smell his whore in him, but you don't. It's just him. Your Jace.

Your body moulds against his as his arms tightens around you. When you lean back, you sweetly press a chaste kiss on his lips, grinning.

"What is this?" he huffs a laugh, meeting your doeful gaze. Your fingers curl around his chin, his cheek, idly tapping and touching as if you are committing so much newness to memory.

"Kostagon iā ābrazȳrys daor jaelagon zirȳla valzȳrys? Can a wife not want her husband?" you ask softly, pressing a few more kisses before sucking the last one just under his ear. His body shudders. You hide your smirk. "Skori ēza issare qrīdrughagon tolī bōsa? When he has been away too long?"

A yearning look tints your gaze from under your lashes, and you have to stifle the winning smirk as guilt pinches his face.

"My apologies, my wife. I did not mean to be away from you for long. From the girls." As his eyes flick to his daughters, your mask momentarily sharpens into clear distaste. The urge to dig your fingers into his eyes until he is bleeding and screaming under you is one you tamper with great distress.

Did not mean...

Did not mean to have a dalliance with another woman?

Did not mean to fall into bed with a fucking bastard, you insidious cunt, while I await here with your heirs?

Your anger thrums, nestled deep in your heart, it breathes. You school your face the moment he turns back to you, bringing your hands to his lips, kissing each finger with reverent tenderness. His brown eyes smoulder, rubbing your bare— irises widening — back.

"If you wish it, I can be on my knees for my apologies, my princess."

Your mouth curls. "I'm afraid that might have to be quite later, my prince."

"Huh?"

"The Dowager Queen hoped to congratulate you on your successful campaigning. Reaching as far as the North so frequently, we planned a feast for your return." Eyes shinning, you cup his face. You hope the guilt eats him raw from the inside out. Like worms. Like termites. Hungry, hungry, hungry. "We have never been more proud of you, I have never been more proud of you."

You laugh brightly, ignoring the way he squeezed you just a bit harder that mere second the same time his eyes tightened. "The moment I told the girls of it, they had begged to dance with you." Then you bit your lip, frowning slightly. "I... I understand if you are tired, 'tis a long journey after all, I did try to tell them you might want to rest, we can sneak you—"

"No, no, my heart, of course I would be happy to, I— I want nothing more." He brings you close, face disappearing into your neck. "Thank you. I love you."

You hum, carding your fingers through his hair. "As I love you."

For the rest of the feast, you dance just at the edges of his fingertips, ensuring that you permeated his sights and senses despite it. A game. A dance. When he thanks revelries who congratulate him, who ask him of his adventures, you proudly stand beside him, dutiful as the wife that you are, spearing him with compliments as much as you can. Hands squeezing his arm, your oils swallowing him with your smell.

When dinner came, you take chances massaging his thigh, sliding a salacious grin that had him blushing, ever so sweet, green— making you wonder what kind of fucking bastards do that he finds your attention so swallowing.

You don't let up.

Whenever he, in turn made a move, you sidestep, flutter a smirk, a wink; always escaping, letting him grow frustrated as the night went on.

Your one respite from taunting him had been when he danced with his daughters, making a gallant show of asking them, even Jaehaera. Giggles and spins, the ladies of the court fawn and coo.

Even now, you're making him to be the perfect man. The endearing husband, the wondrous father, the brilliant prince, the perfect lord.

To execute your plan, it must be made with a surgical precision. A slice that guts him to his knees, that breaks his spirit and quenches the whispering, wicked madness nestling with your ire. On another cheek, he must remain upright and upstanding, as to keep your daughters' future in perfect order.

You catch the domineering gaze of Daemon Targaryen, idle as he is, on the side of his distracted Queen, talking to a highborn lady. You don't look away as you toast him your cup of Arbour Red before you pucker your lips for a taste. Your eyes move to where your husband is already looking, flushed red and sweaty from all the dancing, your girls, preening and giggling around him.

You tilt your chin at him, a challenge in your gaze, before you slowly pull your lips away from your wine, stained red.

His throat bobs.

It will be a long, arduous game. Full of pitfalls and tightened webbing. One trip can kill you. But once the machinations are in order, once everything and everyone is in their proper places... oh, you cannot wait for the dance the dragons will make.

A flutter, a simpered footstep. Then a rustle of a dress as one bows.

"My lady," Dyanna greets behind you.

"Hm?"

"The spiders in the ice have met the pup in the snow."

"And?"

"The pup is not suspicious, in fact, they might go as far as to say that the pup is lonely. Though others largely understand her existence... no one likes a bastard."

You snort. "No, they don't, do they?"

"The wolf cares for the pup though, and is largely protective of his only sister."

"Hm. Complicated, but not impossible. Have Meera change the tone of my missive. A softer edge. Sweet but not overtly. Ensure the prerogative of politeness. Then have it sent to the Rookery. The proper channels."

You sigh, taking the edge of your braid and twisting through the ribbons your maid tangled between them. Tonight, you had elected Targaryen colours. A black dress akin to scales and a low, exposed back and dipping front, held together in red ribbons and silver chains. One that might be too on the nose, but the constant, feverish stares from your husband made it worth it.

"We have to ensure a good relationship with the Warden of the North, don't you think so?" You have not looked away from your husband since your maid came, and as he whispered something in Daenera's ear, nodding off to her grandmother with Aemma towed, he turned towards you, one stride after another.

"Precisely what I thought, milady."

"Go," you order her for the last time, giving her your cup, just before Jacaerys reaches you.

Game, set.

Worshipping you has always been something Jace excelled at. At the least, his cock was much larger than most, and without the preparation of his tongue and mouth, it burned. At most, he oft found himself holding your shaking thighs, your head and shoulders left on the bed as he feasted on you like a man starved, hungered for your nectar, the sounds you make, and the shaking of your body as you reached your peak on his tongue.

"J-Jace, please, I—" Your breath stutters, a hiccup escaping your mouth, but he is not letting up. On his knees as only a lordling can with his back straight, he is holding your thighs, your lower back, eating your cunny for the third time of the night.

As soon as he had reached you, he grasped your waist, whispering against your hair in a rumbled groan, "You are torturing me so, my wife. We leave. Now."

"Now?" you echoed, amused. "This is a feast in your honour."

"My honour is already hanging by a thread. The revelry will go on without us. I want to have my fill of you."

And fill he had. He didn't even wait to get you out of your dress before he had pushed your skirt upward, gone on his knees, and got his tongue inside of you.

Now, you are overwhelmed, overstimulated as you are hazy, gripping the wrecked sheets as your peak reached you once more. A strangled, breathy cry of his name falls between your lips as your back arched impossibly so, and instead of letting up, this seemed to fuel him harder, the muscle of his mouth working harder inside of your cunt, hands digging into your flesh to keep you steady.

It builds with a stimulation unending, and just as you're on the throes of your last high, it builds again, quick and fast this time, shuddering gasps of, "o-oh gods, g-gods, Jace!" is the last thing you are able to shout before your fourth peak breaks against the shudders of your last one, your wetness exploding, and you start crying before he lets up.

Your blubber becomes laughter, and he is soft as he lies you down, massaging your thighs as you twitched. He hovers above you, running gentle hands across your arms, kneading through skin, before he reaches your face. He's still in most of his clothes, his long white shirt and breeches, but his mouth is covered in your wetness before he wipes it, obscene in the prettiness of his face and messy locks from where you had tugged and grabbed.

He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, so close to your body, all too tangled in your soul, and can feel his hard cock upright and wanting against your belly, but he pays it no mind. Concern mars his features as he brushes down your hair.

"Are you alright, my love? Too much?"

You shake your head, brushing your hand down his chest. "N-no, I am well. I just never did that before."

He smiles, kissing your closed eyelids before he brings you close to his chest, cuddling you deep. "You deserve all the pleasure I can give you," he says against your hair. "I have been gone far too long. Consider it my apology."

You hum, eyes open. "Apology for what? You were doing your duty, nothing more, ñuha zaldrīzes, my dragon." You feel him stiffen as you keep your voice soft, caring. "I understand duty far better than you. It is what I love most about you."

You look up, taking his chin between your fingertips as you stared at those warm, brown eyes. "You, who carries your honour like a shield and your duty like a sword. I feel as if the gods had blessed me a husband far better than I should have had for I know I do not deserve you."

"H-how can you say that? You are—" He swallows. "— You are the most excellent woman. The mother of my children. You... You are the one I do not deserve."

Your head falls back against his chest, gripping his shirt. Only by your teeth had you stop yourself from screaming.

You curdle, you keep, you poise.

"My love?"

But you pay him no mind, pushing him on his back as you straddle him, your hands working quick to unlace his breeches until his cock slaps against his stomach, end red and swollen. A sharp hiss falls from his lips as your hand tugs on it once. Twice.

He calls your name, spits it really, eyes blown with lust as he holds your waist, unsure if he should lift you off him or grind you against his aching cock.

"I want you inside me," you whimper, plead, feeling his cock twitch at your words, your false, yearning gaze. He mistakes the burned tears of anger in your eyes as unbridled want. "I have gone so long without your warmth, your cock, swelling inside me, your seed nestling deep, taking root—"

"Yes," he gasps, fingers digging into your doughy sides, pulling you up, moving you around whilst you grabbed his length and directed inside your wet, hot cunt inch by inch, filling you so thickly you can feel him in your throat. It takes time, patience and grit, but you're wet enough and you're determined. Once he's fully inside of you through a choked moan of your own, his neck arches, head thrown back. "Fuck! Yes, y-yes, there you are, my g-good fucking girl."

You move slow at first, taking him, bracing one hand on his knee, almost testing the feel him of back in the familiar contours of your cunt. Veins pop between each groan and choke that shudders through him whilst praise, your name, the possessive titles— my love, my wife, my princess — is spit in between.

When the heat tightens in your belly, you shift positions, placing both palms on his chest, and riding him without abandon, bouncing up and down as you watch with a sharp eye as his release builds. His hips move on their own, fucking up in you as you meet his thrusts with equal vigour, and it's delicious. It's heated. You grind your swollen folds against his mon and your cries make him thrust up harder into you, calling your name, denting your doughy hips.

You don't stop, your pleasure at the back of your mind, wanting him to unravel, to break— a final cry of your name dissolving into a choked moan, spilling his seed deep inside, the continuous snap of his hips digging it deeper into your womb.

But your last peak is still tightening, so you press a quick kiss on his chest, a bite really, before you continue to chase your own high, a hiss slipping his lips but moving your hips with his iron-grip, stutters of, "d-do it, reach your high, f-fuck! fuck!"— Your head throws back, nails digging his skin as your cunt clenches his cock in a vice grip, forcing his hips to snap up once more, twice, until you fall, slumping against him.

When he kisses the top of your head, murmuring words you ignore, you close your eyes.

Your plan is in motion. The missive will be sent to the Lord Stark, in pursuit of an innocent friendship. The spiders you have placed on the Northern bastard are set, and a dragon flies in Dragonstone with your bond in its blood.

Your Jace is home. He will fall in love with you all over again. His wonderful daughters and darling princess, he will regret the events that have transpired in the cold. In his head, he will make promises to do better, to be better, that whatever happened is a blip. A mistake that will not happen again. but you know, he will trip. He will wander once more.

But you will make sure that the next time he does so, he will regret it for the rest of his days.

Because it is not you who will burn Winterfell to the ground.

It will be him.

Your plan moves, your web is perfect.

Now, the spider waits for the idiot fucking flies to feed on.

TAGGED: @inkareds @marihoneywk @caterina-caterina @ahristata @xxvelvetxxxx @but-i-write-so-i-must-count @bunbunbl0gs @yazzzmints @bellstwd @hiraethrhapsody

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon x y/n #prince jacaerys #hotd jacaerys #dark!reader #jacaerys smut #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys fanfic #jacaerys fanfiction #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒#₊˚ପ⊹ hightower green 🕷

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wlntrsldler · 1 month

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poisoned mercury | pink skies

a/n: bf!luke, who else cheered?; suggests that five star and luke spent the night but nothing explicit! i decided not to let the angst monster touch them. they're my babies!!!! five star and luke get behind me!!!

viii. pink skies by lany

series masterlist | previous | next

there were many things about luke castellan that surprised you. one being that he wore glasses, or at least is supposed to wear glasses. he refused to wear them, against the sound medical advice of his optometrist and his mom’s insistence. his first adult responsibility was buying his own contacts because his mom refused to set up the appointments for him out of spite. he only wore his glasses when he was around the boys and poisoned mercury’s management team, but never out in public, and definitely never on stage.

two, he loved jazz music. only a handful of people knew this about him and half of those who do, don’t believe him. he supposed it was hard for people to believe that a pop punk lead singer would have an appreciation for jazz music, but luke loved it. jazz always sounded romantic and sensual and there was something calming about it. he listened to jazz before each show. he’ll never admit this unless you twist his arm, but he wept like a goddamn baby when he first watched la la land.

third, he was a polyglot, which he says is a little ironic because according to his mom, he spoke his first words in english significantly later than his peers, but he picked up on other languages quickly. he first found out about his talent in high school when he started hanging out at the rodriguez household and chris’ mom and sisters started saying phrases to him in spanish. he started taking spanish classes in high school and kept teaching himself when he dropped out. so far he can speak spanish, italian, and a bit of french. he attempted to learn greek, but it never clicked for him. he knew how to read it but his pronunciation was atrocious. he promised he’d try again sometime soon, but who knows if that’ll happen.

fourth, his idea of pillow talk was the two of you asking random questions to each other to get to know each other better, which is how you learned all these things about him. after one thing led to another last night, you fell asleep to the sound of luke’s voice against your ear. it wasn’t even that late; the group hadn’t come back from their trip to get food after they left the party, but you and luke were sleepy as you lay in the tangled sheets of your bed, at peace.

you learned that he was ticklish on the side of his ribs and that he planned to get a tattoo there but when the artist tried to put the stencil on his skin, he giggled and moved around so much that the artist warned him about his placement. he didn’t end up getting the tattoo there, but instead got it a little lower on his torso. luke had six tattoos, making him the one in the band with the least amount. the stolls were tattoo fiends and made it their mission to get a small tattoo from each place they visited on tour. luke’s personal favorite was the single line on the side of their index finger. it was a messily done stick-n-poke after one too many drinks in new jersey.

when he was younger, he used to climb on the roof of his house in connecticut. his parents warned him that he was going to hurt himself one day, but he, being the rascal that he was, never listened. until one day, after a light rain, he’d gone up there and slipped on the shingles and fell face-first against the roof. he scratched his face pretty badly, hence the scar on his face now. he told people that he got the scar from a bar fight because it sounded cooler. one day his childhood pictures will be posted on some website and his cover story won’t be as believable anymore, but that’s a bridge he’ll cross when he gets there.

it was weird to fall asleep next to someone. you hadn’t found yourself in this position in a long time, longer than you’d care to admit. when you hooked up with people in college, you purposefully made up some excuse about why they had to leave before sun up. “my roommate will be back soon.” “i have a huge test tomorrow morning.” “my friend just called and said she needed my help so i gotta go.” but with luke, you didn’t feel the need to make up an excuse to kick him out. you didn’t want him to go.

he asked the silent question as he was putting his clothes back on, hesitantly approaching your bedroom door to exit. he didn’t know if he was overstaying his welcome. he didn’t want to rush you when it came to things like this. so when he’d asked where his other shoe went, not caring about where it landed in the heat of the moment, you shrugged your shoulders and said, “dunno. we’ll figure it out in the morning, come back to bed.”

you didn’t need to tell him twice.

luke woke up before you did. you were lying on his chest, face pressed into the crook of his neck. your breaths made his skin tingle. he twirled the ends of your hair around his fingers, taking in the view of you next to him. he could get used to waking up like this every morning, he thought. he couldn’t imagine a better way to start his day.

you stirred, craning your head to face him as your eyes fluttered open, a subdued smile on your face, “g’mornin.”

“g’mornin’, five star,” he replied, lips immediately leaning over to press against yours. he frowned when you pulled back, shaking your head, “let me kiss you.”

“i have morning breath,” you cringed, moving your arm from under you to caress the nape of his neck. you placed a kiss on the corner of his lips, making him groan.

“i don’t care,” he pouted, nudging your nose with his own. you rolled your eyes but let him kiss you. the kiss was lazy and languid, lips moving gracefully against each other. it was sweet and slow like you were both trying to soak in this feeling with each other. you broke the kiss when you broke out into a smile, suddenly feeling shy.

“it’s noon,” you said, glancing at your clock behind luke. “we need to get up soon.”

“five more minutes,” he placed a string of kisses on your shoulder blade, grinning at the red marks he left on your skin from last night. “let’s stay here a little longer.”

you had a feeling here meant something more than just the comfort of your bed. here was the bubble you both allowed yourself to stay in for the last twelve hours, a little universe that was just for the two of you. it was different kissing luke in the darkness of the night. you could blame it on the secrecy of it all, shadows hiding your feelings for him, no expectations or weight of the dreaded conversation, but in the morning light, you felt vulnerable. you knew the mature thing to do was to ask him about what last night meant. was it just a one-time thing? would things change between the two of you now that the chase was over? you didn’t know.

little did you know, luke was thinking the same things as you. he would prolong this safe haven for as long as he could in case he would never get to experience it again. luke tightened his grip around your waist, breathing in the scent of your shampoo as he kissed your forehead. he couldn’t stop himself. he got a taste of what it was like to be with you and now, he couldn’t get enough. he’d find any excuse to have his lips on you. he grinned at you as he pulled away, “you snore, you know that?”

you buried your face in your pillow, embarrassed, “stop it.”

he laughed, “it’s cute, five star! i don’t mind it.”

“are you sure?” you asked, scrunching your face up in disgust, “i can’t in good conscience let you sleep over again if you don’t even get any sleep because i snore.”

“consider your conscience cleared because i really don’t mind,” luke pressed his lips against yours again. gods, he couldn’t get enough of you. “this makes up for it.”

“ew,” you shoved him playfully, sitting up to start getting ready for the day. luke remained flat on his back on your bed, “you’re so fucking corny.”

he propped his head up on his extended elbow, a smirk on his face. the rays of sunlight that peeked through your blinds illuminated his toned chest. faint scratches and pink marks contrasted his tanned skin. “guilty.”

you got up from bed, digging out a clean sweater from your closet. you wandered around your room, organizing things as you went on. luke watched you from your bed, eyes following your every move. his white shirt was peeking out from under the sweater. your sleep shorts showed off your toned legs perfectly. your hair was a mess, braids undone, but you still looked gorgeous. he blinked as your eyes darted to him, “you look beautiful.”

you rolled your eyes, narrowing your eyes at him, “you can’t even see me properly. you don’t have your contacts in.”

he’d taken them off before he fell asleep. he hated sleeping with contacts in. he’d snuck out in the middle of the night to grab his glasses from his nightstand before slipping back into bed with you. he was thankful you were a pretty heavy sleeper because he didn’t want you to think he was sneaking out to leave you by yourself after last night. when luke returned to his side of the bed, you rolled over and cuddled into him in your sleep, like you’d been waiting for him to return.

luke reached over to retrieve his glasses from your bedside table and placed them on his face. he pushed them up on the bridge of his nose and shrugged, “still beautiful.”

you walked over to him, sitting on his lap with your thighs caging him in. you held his face in your hands, admiring how he looked with the frames on his face. luke’s hands made their way to your waist, steadying you. you smiled, “i like how you look with your glasses.”

a lopsided smile appeared on his face, boyish and charming. “yeah?”

“mhm,” you hummed, “you look like a nerd. s’cute.”

“pfft,” he scoffed, poking your side, “i’m not a nerd. i’m a rockstar.”

“shut the fuck up,” there was no venom in your voice, despite your words. you couldn’t muster any resemblance of annoyance when he was looking at you all doe-eyed and pouty-lipped. you moved from on top of him, crawling over to your empty spot, “luke?”

he turned to you, “five star?”

“what are we doing?”

“we’re spending the day in bed,” he replied, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. he knew that the conversation was coming in soon. he was scared of what you’d say next.

your smile vanished as your shoulders hunched over, “you know what i mean.”

luke rubbed his jaw, “you tell me.”

luke didn’t know what he should say. he didn’t want to say that last night meant nothing to him because he’d be lying if he said that and he didn’t want to lie to you, but he also didn’t want to scare you off by telling you how he really felt. it felt like a situation he couldn’t win. his pessimism was hounding him. he didn’t want to mess this up before it had the chance to start.

“are we just fucking around? is this casual because i–”

at first he thought he could handle it. he’ll let you take the lead, he’ll follow you. whatever you wanted, he’s game for it, even if it meant that he got hurt along the way. but then the word casual left your lips and it felt like he was slapped across the face. he thought he could handle it if you wanted you guys to be casual or friends who kiss sometimes or friends who occasionally do more than kissing sometimes, but actually hearing you use those words made him tense.

“please don’t ever use those words about us again,” luke breathed out, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “i don’t know if you’ve noticed five star, but there’s nothing casual about how i feel about you.”

“i think we need to start talking to each other more,” you pondered. “because there’s nothing casual about how i feel about you either.”

“throw a guy a bone sometimes. you’ve tormented me for two months. how was i supposed to know that?” he teased.

you cocked an eyebrow, “but yet you like me so really what does it say about you?”

just like that, the indecision faded. it was back to just you and luke. the same way you’d always teased each other and pushed each other’s buttons. you’d both been stressed about what the other was thinking when you should’ve just talked to each other. perhaps all the poets and the writers in the world were onto something when they said that communication is key because you two wasted so much time running away from what this could be. it was funny really, how the two of you were both keeping these things to yourself, too scared of how you felt for each other to make a move. how much sooner could this have happened if you told him how you felt the minute you realized it? would he have kissed you a month ago? would you have been waking up with him beside you on your bed for weeks? who knows?

“it says more about you, to be honest,” he said, “you’re irresistible. even when you’re mean to me, i adore you.”

“you’re such a flirt, castellan.”

“i need to up my game,” luke chuckled, “yeah, i got the girl but now i gotta work to keep you.”

you placed a hand on your chin, pretending to think, “i don’t recall being asked to be anyone’s girl.”

“you’re breaking my heart, five star,” he sighed dramatically, clutching his chest. he dropped his body weight on yours, making you squeal and attempt to push him off. he laughed at your efforts. “be my girl?”

“on one condition.”

“anything.”

“let me hear the song.”

luke let out a full belly laugh, rolling over on the bed. he shook his head, biting his bottom lip. there was never a moment where he wasn’t on his toes when he was with you. he didn’t expect you to say that. you really were stubborn when it came to things you put your mind to. that fucking song. “no, i told you it’s not ready!”

you stuck your tongue out at him, “then no.”

luke’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as a goofy grin appeared on his face. he pulled you on his lap again, back pressed against his chest. he moved your hair to one side, kissing down the other side of your neck in soft, quick motions. he mumbled into your skin, “fine, but i’m following you around like a lost puppy. i’m yours.”

you sighed dreamily, reaching over to place a hand on his arm. you couldn’t help but make fun of him despite the butterflies in your stomach, “simp.”

you felt him nod against your body, “that’s me.”

“we really need to get out of bed.”

“five more minutes?”

it had been at least fifteen since he last asked for more time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. you gave in and got back under your covers with him. you let him be the small spoon this time, your arms wrapped around his toned back, smiling at the soft sighs that left his lips when you ran your fingers down his spine. he kissed your collarbones, face relaxing as sleep overtook him again.

you watched him fall asleep and reached for your phone, trying not to disturb his rest. you snapped a quick picture of him, smiling as you admired his features. you were falling for luke castellan.

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x y/n #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson

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slut4thebroken · 1 month

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

(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

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ellecdc · 2 months

Text

Things You Can Say in a Swim Lesson & Also in Bed

meet cute/ugly - swim instructor!marauders + fem!reader

CW: learning to swim/fear of drowning, sexual innuendos, swearing (you know what to expect from me by now)

You were excited. Really, you were.

Your best friend in the entire world was getting married, and she wanted to be married in the Maldives. So, that’s where you were going.

It didn’t matter if you might need to take out a small loan to afford the trip and time off, and it doesn’t matter that all of the events happening before the event were just as expensive.

This was your best friend, dammit! And you were happy for her.

There was only one problem.

You can’t swim.

But that was going to change today! Or...at least in the next few weeks starting today because you were officially taking swimming lessons.

You were not going to fly to the most beautiful beaches and islands in the world and be the fall risk on bridges, docks, and boats. And for fuck’s sake, you were going to swim with the dolphins whether it killed you (literally) or not.

So, you signed up to take swimming lessons. You felt ridiculous.

You felt even more ridiculous as you stood in the changeroom of a very posh country club that your best friend’s fiancé’s parents own, in a one-piece swimsuit you bought just for these lessons (the only swimsuit’s you owned her two pieces because their main use was for tanning).

You tried to find the most modest swimsuit you could, which was very difficult and still not quite as modest as you’d like because for fuck’s sake why won’t the bum cover your entire arse cheek!?

The people leaving behind you were all middle-aged to senior couples who obviously worked in ‘the business’ whatever the fuck that meant because they can clearly afford the membership fees this place obviously charges per month if their gold and crystal chandeliers in the bathroom stalls meant anything.

You tried to readjust your poor swimsuit one last time before grabbing your towel and making your way to the pool. You just hoped you didn’t flash your tits to the other children likely attending swimming lessons.

Except...you got to the pool and there was no one else there.

Well, that’s not entirely true. There was one sexy looking lifeguard covered in various tattoos which stood out brilliantly against his fair skin. His black hair rivaled the ink of his tattoos and was long enough to be pulled back into a messy bun behind his head – though a few stray locks seemed determined to keep their place next to his sharp jawline.

You were jealous of strands of hair.

There was also another lifeguard on the other end of the pool putting away various life rings, flutter boards and lane dividers. He was just as striking as the first lifeguard for nearly opposite reasons. His skin was a deep tan colour, and he wasn’t built like a swimmer – rather, he was built quite like a body builder. His arms and torso were lined with hard defined muscle and his thighs...

For fuck’s sake, stop staring at the man’s thighs.

He had a mop of curly dark hair and a pair of glasses that seemed foggy with the humidity of the room; he seemed no less happy about his current surroundings because of it, however.

You awkwardly looked behind you into the changeroom to see if the rest of your class was coming out. Maybe you should text your friend? Ask her to confirm with her fiancé that you got the times right?

“Here for the swim lessons, love?” a deep, lilting voice startled you from your pondering.

You turned towards the voice and were accosted by the view of a third beautiful man.

Is it, like, a requirement to be hot as hell to work here!?

The man had honey blonde curls and eyes to match that screamed trouble, but the kind of trouble you’d far too willingly find yourself immersed in. Unlike his tanned, spectacled friend, this man was built like a swimmer; he was all long limbs and long muscles, and unfairly tall. You forgot how to speak.

“I’m Remus, I’ll be the instructor tonight. What’s your name?” He asked you like he didn’t have it in front of him on his damp clipboard.

You cleared your throat and offered it to him, and he smiled at your shyness. The smile pulled at a scar that ran through the right side of his lip, and you noticed that he had a few more scattered across his face. They didn’t make him any less handsome, however. Damn him.

“Alright, Y/N. What has motivated you to learn to swim?”

You furrowed your brows at him and looked behind yourself again. “Shouldn’t we wait for the rest of the class?”

His smile faltered as his brows furrowed to match yours. “Class?”

“Private lessons, Dollface.” The tattooed man drawled as he made his way over to you.

“You’ve got the pool to yourself tonight.” He added with a wink.

“This is a private class.” Remus clarified.

“Jesus Christ.” You muttered. You were startled by a bark of a laugh from the tattooed man and immediately flushed to realize you’d said that out loud.

“How did you not know you booked a private class?” Remus asked with a bemused smile.

You sighed, face feeling like it was about to melt off from sheer embarrassment. “I didn’t book it. My uhm, my friend’s fiancé’s family owns this place and said he’d set it up for me. I thought it was going to be a group thing.”

You felt awfully foolish as the two men nodded. “What made you want to learn?” Remus asked again.

“Uhm, that same friend – her wedding is this spring, and it’s a destination wedding.” But the tattooed man started nodding before you’d even finished.

“You wanna swim with the fishes, but not in the mobster way. Got it.” He said as he clapped his hands together.

“Sirius.” Remus gently chided the man. “That’s fair, well, you’ve given yourself a lot of time to learn. I figured we’d start by finding out how much you already know.”

You grimaced.

“Well, that’ll be easy, seeing as I know nothing.”

“Nothing?” Remus asked.

“Nothing.” You confirmed.

Sirius and Remus shared a glance before turning back to you with matching smiles.

“Let’s get started, shall we?”

“Prongs! We got a firstie!” The tattooed man – Sirius – shouted to the tanned man across the pool as he confidently made his way to the edge of the pool. You opted to skirt around the edge – widely.

The tanned man gasped (far more dramatically than you felt the situation called for) and immediately dropped everything that had been in his arms.

“No.” He bellowed. “Can I help?!”

Great, now you were going to be inhaling pool water whilst three of the hottest men on earth watched – no big deal.

“That’s up to our swimmer.” Remus said as he looked towards you for an answer.

“I’d relax on the use of that title until you see me in the water.” You muttered.

Sirius barked another laugh, which made the corners of your mouth lift in comradery. He had a way of making you feel funnier than you likely were, just by enjoying your banter.

“What do you think? Me and James here can be the rest of the class you thought you would be a part of.” He offered with a smirk.

“Class?” James asked, “I thought this was a private session.”

“It is.” Remus answered with a slight edge, clearly used to the other two men getting off topic. “She had the lessons booked for her – she didn’t realize.”

“Gotcha” James said with a clap of his hands. “Okay, I’m all caught up, lets swim!” and with that, he jumped sideways and made a large splash as he landed in the water.

“You’re welcome to use the stairs like a civilized person.” Remus said to you kindly as Sirius cannonballed himself into the pool behind him. Upon hearing the splash, Remus closed his eyes in exasperation.

You took his advice and used the stairs, wading into the pool until the water hit around your waist.

“So, you’ve never been in a pool before?” Remus asked as he placed his clipboard on a flutter board and mindlessly sent it sailing to Sirius.

“No, not like this.”

“Okay. Do you know how to float?” He continued

You shook your head and looked down to the water.

“That’s alright. That’s perfect, that’s where we’ll start, alright?” He offered you, bending to try and catch your eyes. He was smiling kindly at you and his eyes oozed empathy.

“Here, Jamie and Sirius will demonstrate what we’ll do.”

Without a second though, James threw himself onto his back and brought his feet up, so he was floating on top of the water in a star-fished position.

Sirius smiled down at him like he was the sun and placed his arm just below him to ‘support his weight’ – though you were well aware that part was just for show.

“Now, we’ll do it right here where you are now; you can touch the bottom, so even if you feel like you’re going to sink, you can just stand up.” Remus encouraged you.

Your heart fell at the ‘sink’ part.

“You also have three certified lifeguards here.” James offered sympathetically.

Yeah, three real Adonis’ here to watch me drown.

“Nothing will happen, love.” Sirius offered in the softest tone you’ve heard him speak since you met him, apparently your trepidation made itself known on your face.

“I’ll help you get into position, okay? Lean back... atta girl, just like that.” Remus coached you as he supported your back, and one of the other men grabbed your ankles to ease them up. The hands near your feet surprised you and you breathed in a gasp, which was mistaken for anxiety.

“Hey, you’re alright, okay?” Remus said as he paused all movements, “I will not let anything happen to you.”

Jesus Christ, he was going to put you into cardiac arrest.

“Okay.” You offered instead of swearing at him and continued to lean back with his support.

Suddenly, you were suspended above the water as the hands (apparently, they were James’) let go of your ankles. Your instinct was to start kicking and tense up.

“No, you’re alright, keep your legs up and relax.” Sirius coached you from your other side.

Things you can say in a swim lesson and also in bed.

“I’ve still got you.” Remus reminded you as you tried to do what you were told.

Your legs kept wanting to sink to the bottom, but you did your best to will them upward.

“Try to take in a breath – the more air you have in your chest, the more buoyant you’ll be.” Remus told you.

You did as you were told, and your ears sunk just below the water.

“You can keep breathing, dollface.” Sirius said, and you felt your cheeks flush as you let out the breath you were apparently holding.

You listened to the sound of the water lapping against your head and the edge of the pool and timed seemed to slow.

This was actually quite nice – floating. You like floating, you decide. You’d like to do more of it; maybe this will be how you would spend your time at the beach in the Maldives and oh my god where is he going get back here you son of a bitch.

Remus’ hand began to sneak away from you, and in your panic to correct yourself without his assistance, you overcompensated and ended up below the water line.

Gentle hands grabbed your forearms and hauled you above the surface again and you made terribly embarrassing choking and gasping sounds as you wrapped your arms and legs around the being like a newborn koala bear.

“Easy, easy. Hey, you’re okay! You almost had it! You did so well, look at you.” James said brightly as he pushed some of your wet hair away from your face with careful fingers, apparently unaffected by your attaching yourself to him.

Between the men, their flustering you, and the water up your nose – you decided you’ll just spend your vacation at the beach side bar.

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weirdthinkingdragon · 4 months

Text

Yandere Nagas

Their gender(s) are up to you. Yandere nagas x gn reader

Idea I might think more on later

Several yandere nagas you take care of that are in a type of zoo. They’re abnormal in that they’re not the typical rumored antisocial kind. They have a more human-like nature added to their personalities, making them rather sociable. However, they’re such a rare and unique creature, that they’ve been put in the zoo for show. It’s actually for their safety. Many others that were found in the wild were either illegally hunted and killed or died by the harsh climates their body just couldn’t tolerate.

At the zoo upon their first meeting with each other, they had separate caves in the enclosure. There are no windows or cameras for them to have their privacy if they wanted, but it wasn’t needed. They all shared so the cave was remodeled to be one big cave.

They’re incredibly intelligent and picked up on human language very quickly. They were taught by the previous “caretaker” of them, but they sensed some malice within that person. They killed him when he brought in a gun one night and tried to shoot them. After that, the new “caretakers” were thoroughly run through to make sure there was no illegal hunting background. They found the old one was found of poaching a tiger and skinning it, then brung it back to his house in a different country.

After that, you started, and they were all drawn to you instantly. You hate to admit it, but you were fascinated by them. You always wanted a pet snake and love the feel of their scales. You just didn’t have the money at the moment to properly take care of one.

Their love for you grew all the more when you noticed one of them acting a little different and figured out fast they had some sort of illness that wasn’t contagious to humans. They were separated for a while for treatment, and you made sure to visit them frequently as to not let them get lonely.

The end of their tail started to latch onto your bare ankle whenever you were nearby cleaning their sterile enclosure. You didn’t mind it and accidentally let it slip you like their scale’s texture.

They took that as the go-ahead and latched on more. It got worse when the sick one went back to being with the others since they all wanted in on it. At least they’re careful and make sure you never fall and hit the ground.

One thing is they don’t know personal space so it becomes more and more common to be wrapped in one or more of their tails one way or another.

It gets worse when the days start getting colder. They have their heated cave, but it just isn’t enough in their opinions. They want you in the cuddle pile.

One day it’s a record-breaking cold that slips through the glass even with the zoo’s best efforts. It was late at night and you were finishing up searching for any holes to temporarily fill with foam to easily find and be fixed later.

One distracts you while another trips you. A third quickly coils around you and a fourth does the same, also covering your mouth as they drag you into the rather dark cave. Only a very dim light in the ceiling making you just barely able to see their traits. The temperature difference is rather great.

The other two quickly follow in and quickly find a place around your body to coil as well.

You’re piled and stuck in a knot with the nagas wrapping and coiling snugly around you. Their heads, torsos, and tails all going together to not leave any uncovered skin besides your face and hands.

The nagas all fully agree they do not want to let you go, and will find any way possible to make sure you can do this again. Maybe they can talk the zoo owners to allowing it and making you stay~

Struggling is absolutely fruitless with all the solid muscle around your body. Even if you managed to escape, there are four compared to just one of you.

… well, at least they’re smart enough to not coil tight enough to cut off your oxygen. Almost though.

#yandere x reader #x reader #yandere x you #yandere nagas #yandere naga x you #yandere naga x reader #yandere idea #naga x reader

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yawnderu · 5 months

Text

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Chapter III

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

You work magic with your hands

The human body is able to withstand extreme damage.

"Medic!" Price's voice boomed across base, heavy footsteps following right after. The door slammed open before you could even get up, Gaz and Simon carrying a bloodied Soap. They set him down on the medical bed and you got up, rushing to them and examining the damage.

It's incredible, really, how the human body can withstand extreme conditions and stay resilient, such as a gunshot that had blood leaking out of Johnny's head like a faucet.

"Out. With me, Simon." You bark out orders and the men obey, Price patting your shoulder twice, the look in his eyes saying much more than words. Fix him.

"Apply pressure on the wound." Simon nods his head, quickly discarding his skull gloves as his bare hands apply pressure on Johnny's chest to limit the blood loss. You felt a weak pulse earlier, yet the sound of the EKG machine as soon as you hook him up served as reassurance. You immediately put on your gloves, not bothering to hook him up to an IV to avoid wasting time. His heartbeat is weak, but he's still here.

Your hands get to work immediately as Simon begins to treat the wound on Johnny's chest, a much simpler injury than the bullet in his head. You bring the light closer to his head, able to make out the familiar glint of the bullet encrusted in his brain.

Twelve hours. That's how long it took to complete surgery on Johnny to remove the bullet in his head and stabilize him. He's a lucky motherfucker; the base of his brain and spinal cord being completely untouched, allowing him to be part of the 10% of people who have survived a headshot.

Your knees give out right after you make sure Johnny is all covered up, exhaustion and stress along with the disappearing adrenaline finally catching up to you. Strong arms wrap around your torso to prevent you from falling— Simon, who refused to leave your office, staying awake those twelve hours in case his help was needed.

"With you, lass." He reminds you, helping you stand up and guiding you to your chair, crouching down to get a better look at you.

"Need a cuppa?" He asked gently, the back of his hand making contact with your forehead to check for your temperature.

"Fucking brits..." You grumble, tired eyes looking down at him, the way his gaze softens and the corners of his mouth tilt up into a small smile, a deep laugh escaping out of his lips for a second.

"Some coffee?" You nod your head, hands going under your glasses to gently rub your eyes as you struggle to stay awake. He gets up, hand on your shoulder squeezing softly to make you look up at him.

"I'll go tell that lot Johnny made it, think you can stay awake until they're here?" His words had hints of teasing despite the concern in his eyes, only turning away once you nodded your head. You got up from the chair, walking over to the medical bed and looking at Johnny's unconscious body. His heart beat was stable, at the very least.

"I miss you, Johnny." Your hand reaches out to hold his, squeezing softly before you bring it to your lips and plant a soft kiss on his knuckles, slowly putting his hand back on his stomach. As annoying as he can be, he feels like a younger brother, someone you'd lay down your own life for with no hesitation, though that secretly goes for the rest of the team.

You take a step back when you hear footsteps approaching, pretending to fix the new IV injected to him.

"Doc." Price greets, walking over to you and looking down at Johhny. Bruised and bloody, but alive.

"Knew I made the right choice with you." His heavy hand pats your shoulder, managing to offer you a smile despite all the stress he was in, not knowing whether or not one of his boys was going to make it.

"I'm honored, Captain." He could hear the appreciation under the layer of sarcasm.

"I don't know when he's going to wake up, but there wasn't any damage on the frontal lobe or top of the brain, so probably not gonna have brain damage either... not that it'd make much of a difference." You drift off, eyebrows furrowing slightly as you think back on the twelve hours that just passed, the deep chuckle escaping the captain turning your attention back to him.

"Good. Go rest, Gaz and I will take turns watching over him." You simply nod, turning away to leave and patting his arm gently as you walk past. A small smirk sets on your lips when you feel the muscle, quickly leaving the office and going to your quarters. You barely manage to remove the bloodstained white coat before you collapse in bed, any thoughts about what happened and the coffee Simon was making for you completely forgotten as you finally drift off to sleep.

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euphemiaamillais · 3 months

Text

poker face - snowjanus x reader

a game of strip poker with your roommates turns into something a little more…

modern!snowjanus x reader roommate au

cw: 18+//threesome//oral (f. and m. receiving)//fingering//piv sex//anal//stripping//drinking

‘you guys are so unfair,’ you whined as you removed a sock, having lost to their higher hands. they’d changed the rules so it was only the loser that had to strip, and unbeknownst to you, both the boys were more than amateurs at the game.

‘it’s only the rules,’ coriolanus teased, taking a swig of his beer.

you watched the two boys exchange glances as sejanus dealt another hand to each of you, communicating in their own psychic way. it vexed you, the two of them did that a lot, especially when you brought a guy home.

‘well, it’s not like they’re the real rules,’ you shook your head, picking up the cards and sighing as you found yourself with a two pair, again.

a smile flickered upon coriolanus’ lips as he saw his full house, and he once again looked at sejanus, who didn’t seem too put off by his straight. still, it could’ve been better, but by the dour look etched upon your features, they could tell you were disappointed by your hand.

they moved their chips forward, coriolanus bargaining the most, and you sighed, knowing that it was likely you’d be the one clutching at a blanket by the end of the evening, attempting to shield your body. you don’t even know why you’d agreed to this, but you couldn’t deny that you were dying to see the boys undressed. you’d accidentally seen one too many-a-things to pique your curiosity, especially when either of them wore grey sweatpants.

‘fuck,’ you sighed as coriolanus put his cards down on the table, revealing he had a full house.

sejanus raised his brows nervously, but sighed with relief as you showed your defeated hand. his straight would mean he didn’t have to remove his clothing, which was scarce, as both boys were lounging around in sweatpants and shirts. there wasn’t much to take off.

‘this isn’t fun if i’m the only one who’s going to be stripping,’ you frowned, but coriolanus just laughed.

‘shouldn’t have agreed to play with us,’ disappointment filled his eyes when he saw you remove another sock. ‘oh, and rule change… next time you lose, you need to take off a real item of clothing. no more socks or watches.’

you shook your head, and reached for the glass of red wine perched on the coffee table. if you had to continue, you decided that you could at least get a little help from the liquor, just as the boys did.

sejanus dealt a hand this time, and your lips curled up with a grin when you realised you’d gotten a royal flush. you wanted to bet big this time, and pushed all your chips in. both boys could see you struggled to keep a poker face, but sejanus let out a defeated sigh when he realised he only had a pair.

‘well boys, which one of you is stripping?’ you giggled, showing your royal flush.

coriolanus showed his full house, a little disappointed that you’d won this time. beginner’s luck, he supposed. sejanus tossed his cards down, a little disgruntled that he’d lost. because you’d made such a hefty bet, you’d raked up all their chips, grinning.

‘come on sej, what are you going to take off, pants or shirt?’ you teased, watching as a blush crept across his cheeks.

he pulled off his shirt, revealing a muscular and taught torso, causing you to giggle again, face burning. coriolanus didn’t mind either, and you caught his eyes going wide as your roommate removed his shirt.

‘see, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?’ you cajoled, basking in the giddiness of your win.

you dealt the hand this time, body humming in anticipation. you wanted to luck out again this time, but frowned when you scooped up your cards and were left with merely a straight.

this time, it was coriolanus who lost, and you watched as he too removed his shirt. you noticed a dog tag dangling from around his neck, obviously from when he’d joined the army on an impulse, or so he’d said, and felt your mouth water a little at the sight of his well-toned chest.

‘oh boys,’ you sighed, clucking your tongue. the alcohol had made your lips a little loose, and they seemed acutely aware that you were now the most clothed one there.

another hand was dealt. you had finally been defeated, and sighed as you decided what would be best to remove. you couldn’t deny the burning between your thighs as the two of them sat on the couch, shirtless, while you were sat cross-legged on the floor.

you could be extra teasing and remove your bra from underneath your dress, but then if you lost again, you’d run the risk of being only in your panties. however, it wouldn’t be as fun if you pulled off your dress, wanting to make them wait. you saw the way they were eyeing you, slouched over, eyes fixated on your every movement.

you lifted up the back of your dress, and unclasped your bra. you were a little relieved you’d chosen to wear the pretty one, baby blue and lacy, and as you slipped it off your arms, you heard their breaths catching in their throats.

‘you’re such a fuckin’ tease,’ coriolanus sighed, running a hand through his golden curls.

‘hey, just think about what she’ll have to take off next, coryo,’ sejanus laughed, but coriolanus still frowned with displeasure.

‘you never said which order i had to remove the clothes,’ you murmured, tossing the bra at the couch.

coriolanus caught it in his hands, a surprised look creeping across his cheeks as he realised what he was clutching. he could smell the faint scent of your perfume, miss dior, was it?—and felt his cock twitch a little in his sweatpants. god, it would be hard to keep hiding the fact that he wanted your lips around his cock.

‘mhm, well next time, i’m going to make you remove that dress,’ he replied, causing sejanus to let out a guffaw.

it was no secret between the boys that they both wanted you, enthralled by your pretty smile and the way you were always so touchy with them. they’d been planning this for a while now, hoping that you just couldn’t refuse the game—and you’d been more than willing when it had been suggested. secretly, you fantasised about taking both of them, watching as one stretched your pretty little hole out while the other fucked your throat.

‘oh really?’ your brows quirked up. ‘you’re going to make me?’

coriolanus nodded, eyes dancing with want. you pursed your lips together with curiosity, forgetting that you were supposed to actually be playing poker.

‘coryo,’ sejanus laughed, watching as the two of you shamelessly flirted. he felt a little pang of jealousy with the attention not being entirely on him, but he was sure he wouldn’t be left out with the way you’d been eyeing his big arms before.

‘what do you think, sej?’ coriolanus inquired, turning to look at his friend. ‘think i can make her take her dress off?’

sejanus pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes narrowing in on you. your face was flushed now, and though you tried to hide it, you were trembling a little nervously. he nodded his head.

‘yeah,’ he mumbled, breath catching slightly at the thought of your naked form.

you stood up from the ground, and made your way over to the boys who were draped across the couch. you stood between them now, watching as their eyes flickered to the bottom of your dress, which barely covered the top of your thighs.

‘well, are you going to make me?’ you mused, fingers clutching at the hem of your dress.

coriolanus’ hands grasped at your thighs, and you couldn’t hold back the gasp at the feeling of the cold touch on your skin. they travelled to grip at the hem, brushing your own clutching hands away, and he hiked the dress up past your panties.

‘oh my,’ he sighed as he revealed a pair that matched the bra you’d tossed at him some time earlier.

sejanus let out a groan, and unable to keep his hands to himself, he grabbed your arm. unlike coriolanus, his touch was warm; pleasant. the alternating sensations sent your head into a spin, and you let your eyes flutter shut.

coriolanus pulled you down against his thigh, and your eyes opened again, watching as he slipped the dress over your head. you shivered at the feeling of the cool air brushing against your bare skin. both boys groaned at the sight of your breasts, perfectly pert, nipples cold and hard. sejanus couldn’t help himself, and ran a hand over the sensitive skin.

‘oh,’ you sighed as he stroked your nipple.

your core burned, and you found yourself clenching around coriolanus’ thigh, searching for a way to relieve the tension. he could only watch in awe, eyeing your perfect body. he felt the wetness from your panties as you began to grind against his thigh.

‘fuck,’ you groaned, body humming with pleasure as sejanus continued to run at your hard nipples. he had both of his hands cupped around your breasts, watching as you continued to search for release against coriolanus’ thigh.

he couldn’t have that though, the way you were gasping, and the friction of your cunt upon his leg made the blood rush to his cock.

‘she’s so pretty coryo,’ sejanus sighed. ‘i wanna fuck her.’

you were a little taken aback by the words coming out of his mouth. sejanus was usually sweet, you would expect coriolanus to speak with that sort of frankness. it only made your thighs burn more, knowing that they both wanted you.

‘yeah? how does that sound, princess?’ coriolanus asked, shifting a little uncomfortably as he tried to accomodate for the straining bulge in his sweatpants.

‘i want you both,’ you mewled, looking all pathetic already. you’d had such control before, teasing them, and now you were a mess, rubbing your wet pussy against coriolanus’ leg.

‘both?’ coriolanus gasped. ‘greedy, are we?’

you nodded dumbly, rutting helplessly against him. you could feel yourself coming undone, but before you could edge your way to your orgasm, coriolanus pulled you off his lap and put you down between himself and sejanus.

both boys are straining in their pants, and you can see how hungrily they’re eyeing you. the wine removed any shyness you’d had about your body, but you’re still very conscious of the fact that you’re in nothing but your panties.

‘don’t tease her so much, coryo,’ sejanus’ tone was laced with a tone of plea—he wanted to get on with things, he just couldn’t help himself, he was throbbing inside his boxers, tip dribbling a little with precum.

you smiled innocently at sejanus, but your eyes were dancing with desire, and the heat between your legs had not ebbed. you could see how hard he was, and wanting to help him, you ghosted a hand over the bulge.

he let out a groan, and coriolanus watched greedily, jealous that the attention was removed from him. you couldn’t help yourself, and slipped your hand past the waistband of his pants and boxers, beginning to palm his cock. he was thick, and throbbing against your hand.

‘didn’t know you were so desperate to fuck me, sej,’ you teased, pulling his cock out before your eyes.

your mouth watered, but you were aware of coriolanus’ heavy-breathing, laced with jealousy. you settled onto your knees on the couch, ass perched close to coriolanus’ face, and bent down to give sejanus’ cock a kiss.

‘fuck,’ he sighed, and you looked up at him through your thick lashes, seeking his permission. ‘go ahead.’

you moved the flat of your tongue around the tip of his cock, licking up the drops of precum, circling until you were satisfied that it was all gone. coriolanus groaned at the sight of you watching you glide your tongue across sejanus’ cock, and couldn’t ignore the fact that your ass was practically presenting itself to him.

you moved your tongue up the underside of sejanus’ cock, watching as he groaned, hand fisting in your hair. you felt coriolanus’ hands on your ass, but were too distracted by sejanus that you didn’t notice him sliding your panties down your legs.

you wrapped your lips around sejanus’ tip, and began to take him further in your mouth, watching as his hips bucked at the wet warmth of your saliva coating his cock. you let out a gasp as you felt coriolanus’ fingers glide across your wet folds, and pulled away from sejanus for a brief moment to see him fingering you from behind.

‘so fucking wet, look at her, sej,’ coriolanus cooed, thumb pressing against your clit.

you gasped, but moved so you were taking sejanus down your throat again, head bobbing as your tongue slipped up and down his thick shaft.

‘i wanna make you cum,’ coriolanus mused, watching as you squirmed from his touch.

sejanus’ hips twitched a little as you took him fully in your mouth, balls slapping slightly against your chin. he couldn’t help but buck against your lips, watching as you gagged. your eyes pricked a little with tears, but you pushed them away, determined to take him as deep as you could until he was coming down your throat.

coriolanus bent his head down and buried himself between your thighs, tongue lapping gently at the slickness pooling at your hole. your pussy looked beautiful from behind, and it tasted even better, just as sweet as he’d imagined. you moaned against sejanus’ cock, the hum sending him over the edge.

‘jesus,’ sejanus huffed out as he came down your throat.

thick, hot ropes slid onto your tongue as he slipped himself out, and you swallowed him up, even taking care to suck a little at the tip to make sure all his cum was making its way down to your belly. he whined from the feeling of your lips around his overstimulated tip.

sejanus had to pry you off of him for fear he’d be coming again, and you turned your attention back to coriolanus, who was currently fucking your hole with his tongue. you whined at the sensation, eyes trained on sejanus, who’s lips were curved into a grin at the sight of your fucked-out face.

‘coryo,’ you whimpered, moving away from him.

as much as you were enjoying the sensation of his mouth on your cunt, the position was uncomfortable. you turned around to face him, and forced him down against the couch, hovering over him teasingly.

‘i’m going to sit on your face, and you can finish what you’re doing,’ you commanded, watching as coriolanus gripped your thighs, dragging you down so you could perch your cunt upon his face.

‘i can’t believe he’s letting you boss him around,’ sejanus laughed, surprised that his friend had surrendered his usual dominance to you of all people.

‘mhm, well he’ll get to tell me what to do once he can make me cum,’ you remarked, groaning as his tongue worked effortlessly at your clit.

sejanus came to sit on the other side of you, not wanting to miss out on all the fun. you leaned in to him, your noses brushing as you let out another gasp as coriolanus’ tongue pressed against your sensitive nub, lips suckling in an attempt to bring you to your pleasure.

sejanus’ lips were soft against yours, and you moaned into the kiss, too far gone with the pressure of coriolanus’ skilled tongue against your dripping folds. he wrapped his hands around your neck, fingers catching in your hair, pulling you closer. you opened your mouth, allowing him to slip his tongue inside.

you were so desperate, at the same time grinding against coriolanus’ mouth, feeling yourself unfurl beneath him. heat burned at your core, the tight knot in your stomach forming. coriolanus’ cock was hard again as he felt your juices coat his lips, wanting nothing more than to bury himself deep inside of you.

moaning into sejanus’ mouth, you clenched your thighs and felt yourself come undone, skin dancing with the fire of your want. you wondered if coriolanus was suffocating between your thighs, but he continued to lick at you as if you were his last meal, lapping up all the delicious slick that you dripped onto his tongue.

‘so good,’ you gasped into sejanus’ mouth, his fingers tickling the nape of your neck.

you pulled yourself off of coriolanus, who’s lips were wet with your juices, and you felt your core tingle again. he looked so hot, drunk on your pussy, blue eyes wide with a hunger to have you all to himself.

sejanus and you parted for a moment, watching as coriolanus grabbed at your naked form, his hard cock pressing into your back. you let out a sigh, rubbing your ass against his cock, and he cast a pleading look.

‘wanna fuck you now,’ he begged, a little pathetic.

sejanus coughed, reminding coriolanus that he had to share you, after all, you had more than one hole. it would be cruel to deny them their pleasure.

‘i’m sure you boys can decide who gets what,’ you drawled, letting coriolanus pull you into his lap.

both boys were silent for a moment, debating with one another through their eyes; coriolanus’ boner pressing into you, a reminder of just how much he needed you. he wanted you to be his, but sharing you with sejanus was only fair, especially when you’d been so insistent.

‘coryo?’ sejanus quirked a brow.

coriolanus pursed his lips, growing increasingly aware of the way your ass ground against his cock. he didn’t know how much longer he could take it, or if he’d finish without even being inside of you.

'should i fuck you in the ass, hm?' coriolanus murmured in your ear. your cheeks burned, but you nodded hazily, too distracted by the thought of both of them inside of you.

'sej? does that suit you?' you asked, lips pursing as you felt your core begin to soak with heat again.

he didn't know what to say, words caught in his throat like dirt. of course it suited him. he had dreamed of a time like this, burying himself deep inside of your cunt, watching you moan his name...

'yeah, 'course,' he managed to utter, and you cast a soft smile.

sejanus laid back against the couch, and you left a pouting coriolanus to clamber onto sejanus' lap, straddling him. coriolanus watched as you wrapped your hand around sejanus' cock and stroked him a few times, thumbing the precum on his tip. when you decided he was wet enough, you lowered yourself around him, gasping as his thick cock stretched out your walls.

coriolanus gripped at your waist from behind, stroking the small of your back with his ringed hands. he'd pulled down his sweatpants, and his cock, long and throbbing, was pressing right against your ass. you moved up and down on sejanus, hands stroking the smooth expanse of his toned chest, watching as he moaned as you clenched around him.

'so good,' sejanus sighed as the sound of his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy echoed across the room.

struck with jealousy, coriolanus barely gave you warning as he pressed himself inside your other hole. you gasped, brows knitting together at the slight discomfort of his long length shoving inside of you.

‘is she tight, sej?’ coriolanus asked, groaning as he began to buck into your hole.

your head swam with overstimulation, core burning as they both filled you with their cocks. you couldn’t help but gasp as you rode sejanus, feeling coriolanus’ cock pressing against a particularly tight spot in your hole. you were in a daze.

‘so tight,’ sejanus mused, gripping at your hips, attempting to bury himself fully inside of you.

‘it’s too much,’ you murmured, already completely fucked-out on their cocks.

coriolanus’ cock throbbed as he felt your hole squeezing around his cock, clenching as sejanus stretched your pussy. he didn’t know how much more he could take, his balls aching to shoot their load into you. he thought of you being filled with both of their cum, watching the pearly stuff dripping out of your cunt and ass. that sent his head into a spin.

‘fucking hell!’ coriolanus grunted, sound of his balls slapping against your mingling with that of your wet cunt against sejanus’ cock.

‘she’s so good, isn’t she?’ sejanus mewled, his thighs trembling a little beneath you.

‘taking us so well,’ coriolanus said, breath hot against your ear. the feeling of the hot air sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel yourself being pushed over the edge.

‘gonna…’ you huffed, a little exhausted. ‘cum.’

the boys laughed, watching as you fucked yourself dumbly on their cocks, groaning and sighing with delight as you came undone, cunt gushing with wetness. sejanus moaned at the feeling of your slickness coating his cock, a milky ring forming round the base as your pussy slipped on and off his shaft.

‘such a slut, fucking yourself stupid on our cocks, huh?’ coriolanus cajoled, fastening his pace.

he tugged on your hair when you didn’t respond, and you let out a cry, feeling the stinging feeling of your hair strands standing on the ends of your scalp.

‘you gonna answer me? or have we fucked you so good that you can’t answer,’ coriolanus shook his head. ‘such a little whore.’

you moaned as you felt sejanus tremble beneath you, spilling his load inside your cunt. he whimpered a little as he came, cheeks burning and red with abashed innocence. you’d just felt so good, the way your wet walls clenched around him, taking him so well.

‘god,’ sejanus mumbled, continuing to thrust lazily into your pussy as his cum trickled out.

‘oh sej,’ you giggled, pressing a kiss to one of his reddened cheeks. he looked so sweet, big brown eyes welling with a bashful expression.

‘couldn’t help myself, you’re just so good,’ he mused, grunting as you changed position, sliding off his cock so your ass was pressed pertly against coriolanus’ cock.

‘want you to cum in my pussy too, coryo,’ you murmured, turning back to glance at him.

he frowned, but he couldn’t say no to the offer. he pulled his cock from your ass, throbbing and red; and a small groan played upon his lips as the pleasure ceased for a second. you both moaned as he slid into your wet, cum-soaked cunt, and he gripped at your hips.

feeling extra teasing, you reached down to grab at sejanus’ now flaccid cock, watching as his hips writhed at the excess stimulation. his eyes were stretched into a look of wide-eyed plea, but the sounds that were stumbling from his lips suggested he was yearning for it.

‘please, too much,’ he uttered, but his cock came to attention again, hardening as you ran your hands up and down.

coriolanus was close, clutching at your hips so hard you could feel the bruises forming. he loved the way your skin turned red between his fingers as he pounded you, another way he was making you his. your wetness, mixed with the feeling of sejanus’ cum, made his own release threaten to occur.

‘gonna fill you up, hm? such a slut, being filled with both our cum, taking it so well,’ coriolanus grunted against your ear as he pounded into you.

sejanus whimpered as you squeezed at his tip, hips thrusting helplessly, and a moan escaped your own lips as coriolanus gave a final, rough buck into your used cunt. he felt spurts of hot, sticky cum paint your walls, dripping down his aching cock.

coriolanus fucked the cum back into you, watching with an impish grin as your cunt sucked in his load; his cock was dripping with it too, and he felt turned on wondering whether it was his or sejanus’ that was costing him. either way, you were their’s now.

‘so much for strip poker,’ you laughed, breath heavy with exhaustion.

sweat beaded all of your skin, your breasts glistening beneath the ambient light of the room. you cast your eyes to the cards and chips strewn across the coffee table; your clothes tossed carelessly on the floor. your head swum with the heady excess of your bliss, and you sighed.

‘well, i’m not going to say no to another round,’ coriolanus murmured, causing the three of you to give an exasperated laugh. you wondered if you’d ever look at strip poker the same way again. probably not.

625 notes · View notes

hezzabeth · 5 months

Text

"For the last time, that poem isn't romantic! It's insulting," Revati yelled over her shoulder as she began to pedal.

The layout of Olde Landon had been deliberately designed to keep tourists inside for as long as possible. There was only one way to access the front gates, and that involved defeating the Queen of Hearts' hedge maze. When the park was still open, tourists would be forced to spend at least an hour in the maze, stumbling upon tiny toy shops and food stands around every corner. The same thing occurred when they left, resulting in a very rich park and bankrupt guests. Now the maze was overgrown and easy enough to navigate.

Revati pedaled past the cart that once sold her heart-shaped sunglasses. Then she turned left, almost crashing into the wall of roses. The wall of roses stared back at her, their red blooms heavy and suspicious. Thanks to Bridgadeiro, she knew they were probably secretly insulting her.

The next turn consisted of an old stardust popcorn stand. Revati skidded to a stop and inspected the inside tray, where a few ancient kernels lay. Carefully, she picked up several of them and placed them in her jacket pocket. As far as she could tell, the kernels were seeds. Someone was shifting around the corner, causing the branches to shake.

"Aurora, is that you? Did you go ahead of me?" Revati yelled.

"While conferring in the labyrinth where false preachers reeked of death, the monster began to growl," a voice called from around the corner. An unfamiliar, flat female voice. Raiders. Raiders were, of course, an occupational hazard in any post-apocalyptic settlement. Normally, they never made it further than the broken glass pit at the park's gates. Sometimes Dityaa would bring one in, insisting they were "lovely," which always led to awkward dinners.

Revati slowly walked around the maze corner. There was a screeching metallic sound, and the weapon fell from Revati's hand. An android was slumped over on the ground. Once it would have been golden, but now it was rusty and covered in mud. Someone had ripped its legs off, leaving nothing but wires and tubes spitting bright blue fluid. Instead of a torso, there was a black empty hole with a concave door swinging on its bent hinges.

"And in the forgotten twists, footsteps quicken, hearts beat, and teeth are bared," the android chirped, its voice still distorted and far away. The android's face was a beautiful mask. Still-carved eyes. Unmoving sweet lips.

Revati powered up her solar gun and slowly walked forward, aiming it at the android. The android's metal eyes scraped in their sockets, turning towards her.

“Is that you? My darling Perdita?” The android’s voice whispered, the lips unmoving. The whispering voice had a posh lilt to its accent. Revati refused to answer. It was best to never engage with AI.

“Perdita, I clawed my way in! They know about you; the spider knows,” the android whispered before collapsing completely.

Revati slowly walked forward, still holding her weapon. With one foot, she kicked the android. It didn’t move. Its power had definitely died.

“Spider? Is that some sort of gang?” Revati whispered to herself. Gangs were always given stupid names.

“The spider is us; the spider is legion,” a flat robotic voice called out, and Revati spun around.

Queen Victoria was standing behind her, scorch marks all over her dress. A faint blue glow was erupting from beneath the skin of Queen Victoria’s chest.

#comic #magic #nanowrimo #nanowrimo2023 #science fiction #creative writing #occ #speculative worldbuilding #speculative fiction #scifi #yafiction #scifi comedy #life on mars

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kooktrash · 1 year

Text

fighting heart | jeon jungkook au

summary: never living a life of luxury, Jungkook does what he has to do to make ends-meet. right now that means fighting in underground clubs, getting beat black and blue until he wins. he knows there’s a better life out there for him but he never let himself think about it. until you came along and suddenly a weight is being lifted off his shoulders letting you through his guarded walls. you’re everything he needed and you make him want to fight for more.

warnings: 15k words. smut. angst. boxer!jk x curvy,f!reader. violence [fight scenes]. mentions of blöod. rich y/n. degradation of y/n [a few times] but not by jk. mentions of wounds. y/n got some mommy milkers lowkey. big hips that jk likes t—. unprotected. fingering. handjob. missionary. sweet. y/n is whipped but Jk is whippeder. jin is kinda sketchy kinda not. tw: harmful language, physical violence, anatomical injuries. illegal fight club. gambling.

No where he went could he find silence. Rattling cages, loud chants and even bottles breaking. The room he was currently in was poorly lit. And he could barely see the damage that has been done. The room was in hues of green with dirty white tile showers and sinks with rust on them. The ground was covered in stains of old blood that didn’t wash away from the polished cement. Hanging above his head were fluorescent making hissing noises like the glass would soon burst into flames and shatter across the floor. They were flickering too, he could see them clearly through the dirty mirror he was staring at himself through.

He was a mess himself and he had no clue where to start. His hair was drenched in sweaty locks sticking to his face in strange whimsical lines. There was blood dripping down over his brow piercing somewhere on his hair line but he couldn’t see it clearly yet. There was a large red mark on his rib cages but other than those couple injuries he considered himself pretty clean.

The water pressure from the faucet was poor and when he first turned it on the water had a brown tint to it. He let it run over his wet rag squeezing out the excess before cleaning the blood and sweat off his face. He leaned forward and splashed water onto his face and rubbed some into his hair to at least rinse his sweaty hair a little bit. From behind him he could hear the swinging doors part ways as someone walked in with a huge grin on their face. He waved a stack of papers in his hand smacking it against the palm of his other hand, business suit and shoes sticking out from this room like a sore thumb. His hair was slipped back in a nice style and he looked better than Jungkook did at the moment.

“You killed it out there,” Kim Seokjin said as he leaned against the counter on the wall, staring at Jungkook’s back and the red mark on his side, “He got a few hits in it seems.” As he said that he moved to stand again walking over to the ice machine next to the broken paper towel dispenser. He took the big ziploc bags off the machine and began putting ice into one of the bags. He took plastic wrap with him as he walked over to Jungkook and motioned for the guy to lift his arm.

“Don’t worry kid, your cut is good today,” Jin said, pressing the ice bag to Jungkook’s injured side before bringing the wrap over it and pulling it around his torso to hold the bag down. Jungkook just looked at the drop of blood still leaking from the cut on his forehead making him reach out for his rag again. The sink had a new stain of blood on it from where his rag had been running under the water. He looked at Jin through the mirror, “How much?”

Jin smiled, “Little more than a grand but I got a few more investors out there looking to see another fight. You’ll get there once you focus fully on training.”

“I’m not a fighter,” Jungkook grumbled as he turned quickly once Jin finished up. There was a small limp to his step as he walked to his gym bag looking for clothes to change into. Jin shook his head in disbelief, “Not a fighter? Then tell me what I just watched tonight.”

“I told you this already. I’m not interested in doing anything more than a couple fights here and there,” Jungkook said putting on a worn out, oversized gray t-shirt. Jin groaned in frustration, “I don’t get why you’re so against it. You can make much more money if we go big. You’ll be rich you know? I can already see your fights on pay-per-view. Just think about the money, that’s why you’re doing this aren’t you? Think about your family.”

“I am thinking about my family, that’s why I’m saying no,” Jungkook told him, changing into some black sweats and throwing a hoodie on. The bag of ice was slowly melting but at this point he didn’t care about how ridiculous he looked, “They’d kill me if they knew I was fighting again, I’m sorry man, but no.”

He took his cut of the money from Jin, slipping his hood over his head and hoisting his gym bag on his shoulder, “Call me.”

His leg ached making his entire walk out of the underground club to his car all the more slow. His car lights blinked as it unlocked and he chucked his bag in the backseat finally getting in and starting the engine. Jungkook’s neighborhood was far from being nice but it’s location close to busy streets made night life more active. He got to his apartment shortly after, sirens going off just outside his window where he could see flashing lights and the tops of old buildings.

Despite how late it was, and his need to be alone he couldn’t have that. Not when his phone began ringing. He winced, reaching into his pocket and taking it out. Once he saw the caller ID he debated ignoring it. Now isn’t the time for it when he’s got a pretty girl in his bed telling him you don’t want to go home. But he answered anyway, “Hello?”

“Hi honey, I know it’s late but um,” his mother stuttered, he could practically picture her fidgeting, “We’re behind on rent again. I wouldn’t be coming to you if I didn’t need to.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything, it was the same thing over and over every single time. He was in his bathroom now, pressing his phone to his ear, “When is it due?”

“Well it was due a couple days ago—“ “And what happened to what I sent you the other day?” Jungkook asked.

“Your father needed it for a, well, uh, I can’t remember but you’re my son, you’re more reliable than anyone else,” his mother said, making him roll his eyes. “So why’d you wait till now to tell me? Should I call your landlord and see how long it’s been overdue?”

“Yah, don’t be like that,” his mother begged, “You’re supposed to help your parents. That’s why you moved wasn’t it? Why are you even up so late? What have you been doing? Who were you with? Were you fighti—“

“I’m hanging up. I’ll send the money in the morning,” with a tired sigh he ended the call wincing once more when he reached up for the handle to his medicine cabinet.

His small rectangular window was his only source of light in the bathroom as he rummaged through his medicine cabinet but his first aid kit was empty. With a tired grunt he closed it back up and left looking around for his things pulling the melted ice bag away that was now just a puddle of water. He grabbed his wallet and keys before leaving his apartment once more, this time by foot.

After a five minute walk he found himself in front of a familiar convenience store and he went in, immediately going to the medical section. He probably shouldn’t be walking around with so much money on him but it was too late to worry about that.

“Oh my god hurry up, I’m literally scared for my life,” A girl squealed a couple aisles down and Jungkook tried to ignore her, “We should’ve just gotten it delivered.”

“And if they didn’t have what I wanted?” Another voice piped in, slightly more bearable than the previous one but with the same tone, “Besides everyone can hear you, y’know?” As if he’d been the one spoken to he looked up from under his hood, eyes softening for a fraction of a second as they met your stare. He was the first to look away once he caught his reflection on the fridge doors behind you filled with alcohol. There was a line of red down his forehead again and it made him duck down under the aisle top and look for what he needed.

“I don’t care who hears me, just get a bottle and let’s go. Jimin’s waiting,” The high pitched voice spoke again and Jungkook found a box of wound closure band-aids, pain killers, and icy/hot patches. You rolled your eyes at her looking over to the guy in the hoodie again, there was a red stain on his forehead that you noticed right away. A little after Jungkook found himself standing behind you in line. He didn’t expect to find such a sight in front of him. You were in a hot pink mini skirt and a white blouse that matched your heels. Your legs weren’t super long but your thighs were wider and so were your hips. It made the fabric of your skirt hug your curves in the best way possible.

You and your friend finished up with the cashier and he found himself twisting a lock of hair over the bleeding cut on his forehead to hide it. He could feel your eyes follow him for a moment as you left at that and he moved forward to the counter.

That night he healed his wounds in his studio apartment under the moonlight while you got in the back of a Porsche for a night drinking.

There was a stiffness in the air, like all the poise and class was just an act that was hard to maintain. At least that’s what Jungkook thought because as he looked around not a single person seemed to be what they tried so hard to appear. Now, he’ll admit he’s probably the most out of place here but that didn’t mean he couldn’t notice things. For instance, his partner wore an expensive suit with a shiny Rolex that demanded the attention of everyone in the room. Yet he still seemed gentle, far from intimidating which is what he’s so poorly tried to portray. A hand landed on his shoulder blade giving him a little shake as the man spoke, “Lighten up Jungkook, this is for you. You made me good money last week. Think of this as a sign of my appreciation.”

“Is that what this is?” Jungkook asked looking around the lounge room with expensive alcohol in crystal glasses and 100,000$ leather seats. He started to fix the cuff of his black button-up as he looked around some more. The men in here were either his age or way older, all in designer suits and watches. All the women were young, beautiful, lavished.

Just like the one who crossed his line of sight in a black, shimmery dress that was barely around mid-thigh. A silver, diamond charm bracelet on the wrist that matched every piece of jewelry on your body—from what he can see. You were far across from him, somewhere off with a group he couldn’t see well and the dim light applying a glow to you in particular. And yet he recognized you right away as the person from the store last night.

“I’ve treated you to dinner, I figured I might as well treat you to drinks too,” Seokjin said looking up from his phone just as Jungkook’s eyes snapped back to him, no longer focusing on the stranger. He released a sigh, “Alright, I want to talk about business. There’s another match this weekend. Two fights and a couple grand in your pocket. It’s short notice and you need time to recover but I was hoping to convince you.”

“Against who?” Jungkook asked tipping his glass of scotch back before placing it down on the small glass table between them two. Jin gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, “Some new kid and Park Seungmin. What do you say? Do I get it set?”

“Ask me again after a few drinks,” Jungkook said. Music played behind them but not nearly as loud as a regular night club’s and there was a faint smell of cigar. He hardly paid attention to whatever other small talk the two of them made, he was too tired to say anything on his own. He hadn’t even wanted to come out with Jin at first. It’s not that he didn’t like the guy. He did. The problem was that he could not understand why Jin would want to be a part of the kind of life Jungkook has involved himself in. Kim Seokjin came from money, the good kind of money.

It meant he’s never had to worry about food in his stomach or if the electricity would be cut off. He’s never lied about christmas presents he never recieved or about not having lunch money. He’s grown in gated communities and trips abroad for the holidays. There’s no reason for him to be making dirty money just because he could. Jungkook didn’t hate him, he just couldn’t never fully trust that Jin had his best interest in mind. All he knows is that he’s the only one Jungkook can go to at the moment and he’s going to see how far he can get. The downside was that Jin wanted him to go the professional route. He wants to mentor him and get him in more official rings that could be broadcasted. His boxing was good, Jin saw potential so he badgered Jungkook about it nonstop. He didn’t listen though, he was fine fixing cars and had no intention in being a professional fighter.

If he had paid more attention to Seokjin instead of the marks on his hands he might have noticed the way Jin casually looked around the lounge room. He seemed stuck on someone behind him, brows furrowed together in concentration before his eyes relaxed momentarily. He looked back to Jungkook, “I’ll be right back. I think I see someone I know.”

Jungkook didn’t bother responding, merely waving him off as he looked down at his phone. The money he just earned from his last match was enough to send to his parents but he still needs more for rent and utilities. His job won’t pay him till the day after rent is due and he can’t ask for another extension. If he wants to cover the rest he’ll have to do the fights Jin asked of him. He’s still a little sore from the last fight but if he tries to get back on training he should be fine.

“Look at all the space we have, just take a seat,” Jin said finally making Jungkook look up as three people were filing into the booth. He noticed right away when you were making your way into the rounded booth pretty much inching closer to him. He’ll admit, up close you’re even more beautiful than he thought when he looked at you from afar. Now he can see your features better than he had at the store. What are the chances that he ran into a random stranger twice? And one he thought about on his walk home from the store as a short distraction?

You didn’t shy away from looking him over as you finally sat down just a few inches away from him. Jin flashed him a smile, “Jungkook these are some friends of mine. This is Taehyung, Jia and Y/n. Everyone meet Jungkook.”

Jin didn’t give much time for introductions when he waved over a server and ordered more drinks for the table. Jungkook took his chance to get a look at you again and for the first time that night, your eyes met his. He was the first to crack even the smallest hint of a smile. You had a pretty face, your cheeks slightly rounded but your eyes were what drew him in. He likes the curve of your waist and the way your thighs look soft to the touch. Your dress had been a little higher from the back than the front and he understood why. You were so physically attractive to him. You had wider hips and a slight tummy pouch. The top of your dress was easily filled out by your chest which spilled slightly from the top. Your collarbone still seemed to protrude and a diamond necklace with your name engraved rested prettily on it. Y/n, he remembers the girl next to you saying it the other night.

“So what are you guys doing here? Don’t you have better places to drink at on a Saturday?” Jin asked once drinks came and Jungkook looked over to where the conversation was. Taehyung gave a shrug of his shoulders looking to his two friends, “Just wanted to get a few good drinks in before going out. Are you two free? Want to come with?”

Jin shared a look with Jungkook, “Yeah? Let some stress out.” He wasn’t sure though, he’s already over exerted himself being out with Jin but at the same time now that it’s been brought up he wouldn’t mind. There was a shift on his side and suddenly you were leaning forward to look at his face.

“I agree, if you’re stressed then maybe you should come have drinks with us,” you said with a bright smile. That convinced him way too easily and before he knew it, he was leaving with the rest of you to a club. He stood behind you in line and when you were all inside he was at the bar right there with you.

“You look familiar,” you said bluntly turning away from the bar counter to look at him while your drinks were made. It caught him off guard at first before saying, “You do too.” Your smile was softer now but just as pretty and you batted your lashes, “I know where I’ve seen you.”

“Where?” Jungkook wanted to see if you actually did recognize him or if he just looked familiar to someone else you’ve seen. You pointed a finger at him, “The store. You were dressed all emo and stuff.”

“I was just wearing dark colors,” What you said made him smile a little before adding in, “But yes, I recognize you too. You were wearing pink.”

“Oh you even remember what i had been wearing? Was it because you liked it or because you liked me?”

“Can I say both?” Jungkook said with a lighter tone now. He found you attractive, alluring even, despite your snobbish tone. Your eyes narrowed in interest and you let your eyes travel from the faded scar on his forehead to the belt holding his jeans up. He was attractive in a way you couldn’t explain. An absolutely beautiful intimidating man.“I thought I knew all of Jinnie’s friends, how come I don’t know you?” You asked taking your drinks from the bartender.

He gave a small shrug, “I wouldn’t say we’re close, more like acquaintances. How do you know him?”

“Family friends.” “All of you?” You gave a nod of your head taking a sip from your drink just as he did. You looked down at the hand he had on the bar too. It was covered in ink and rings on his pretty fingers but the more you looked the more you saw. It included red knuckles with faded purple and brown marks like bruises. Jungkook noticed right away where your attention had drifted and he opted for moving his hand off and keeping it to his side.

“Can I be honest with you?” He asked suddenly trying to draw attention away from his hand and also speak some truth at the moment, “I think you’re beautiful.”

So he found himself closer to you later on in the night. His hand had even made itself to your hips as you sat on the stool scooted close to his. The two of you had completely forgotten about the group you were supposed to be with but they didn’t even attempt to intervene. If anyone seemed hesitant it was only Taehyung and Jin just brushed his worries away. He knew you well and you liked the fun, he knew Jungkook needed some fun even if it’s just for one night.

Later on in the night the two of you disappeared into a cab. He was more hesitant than you were to initiate any sort of intimate contact. Even inside the club he only had an arm around you and when he offered to take you home he was only hoping to spend a little more time with you before asking for your number. He didn’t expect for you to be on him in the back of the cab. Your lips were on his and he was kissing back eagerly, uncaring for the way the cab driver looked back at you.

“Just one address or two?” The driver asked as you pressed a kiss against Jungkook’s jaw leaving him breathless. His hand was on your curved back keeping you close as he barely had a chance to look over to the driver. You beat him to it when you pulled away for a quick second to mutter, “One address,” and went back to kissing him. He wasn’t complaining, he hasn’t done this in a while.

With work and all the matches he’s been in on top of training, he doesn’t have much time to go out and meet people who weren’t drunk placing bets on him. Even the women at the fights were drunk, a little more sleazy, not as clean and definitely didn’t have skin as soft as yours. His other hand found it’s way to your thigh, fingernails digging into the plump skin and he wanted to do more than just touch with his hands.

Jungkook’s not sure how it happened but they ended up at his place instead of yours, maybe because it was closer to the club or maybe because he gave it to the man first. Either way it was too late to argue about it when you were already urging him to get out. He quickly paid for the cab and was helping you, kissing you one last time as the cab drove off. He smiled sweetly, “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Okay with what?” You asked wrapping your arms around his mid section leaning into him when his arms went around your waist. He cleared his throat looking down at you slightly more concerned now, “With this, with me…”

You smiled, “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” You’re not even asking questions. Not about his bruises or cuts or red knuckles, “Besides, I like you so are you going to take me upstairs or am I just gonna stay out here.” Jungkook took your hand now dragging you behind him inside his building trying not to get your expression. He didn’t want to see how you’d feel about his clearly run down apartment. Even this late at night there were a few tenants just sitting around on the stairs. He moved you in front of him staying close behind you to avoid you being stared at by some creep from the back. Once you were in his dark apartment it was immediate.

You didn’t even look around the place, letting him lead you to creaky twin sized bed he called his own and kissed him roughly, hands pulling at his shirt immediately as he made himself comfortable sitting next to you. You were on your knees looking taller than him deepening the kiss with your tongue now and he was gladly kissing back just as hard. His hands found their way to your legs, squeezing once again at your meaty thighs that pressed against each other with no gap between. The fullness of your figure was so damn tempting and it had his fingers inching under your short dress.

When you didn’t seem to object to his touch he went ahead and let his hands circle around your hips to the back where he could feel a very small pair of panties covering very little. Like your thighs, your butt was squishy making his fingers sink into it as he felt you up and it had him groaning into your mouth in want. His mouth trailed down your jaw, sucking gently against your neck as his hands continued feeling you up, your dress already up and around your wide hips as he played with your underwear. A finger slipped under it holding it out as he let his hand feel underneath.

A breath caught in Jungkook’s throat when your hand was pressing against his thigh now, long nail barely grazing his leg moving closer and closer to his growing member. You seemed just as impatient as he did and it made him wonder how long it’s been for you too. He doubts it’s been as long as him. You took him by surprise when you started unbuttoning his jeans with one hand and with ease and he was helping you move them out of your way. Following your lead when your hand began to palm him over his briefs, he did the same.

You moaned softly into his mouth as his hand pressed against your slicked heat from behind with his arm around your waist pressing you into his side. His head was aligned with your heavy chest and when he leaned it against the silky fabric, he could feel the softness of your breasts. His free hand couldn’t stop himself from reaching up and feeling you better. You wore a thin, flimsy bralette that hadn’t even been enough to conceal your nipples throughout the night but it made it easier for him to feel you better. The weight of your breasts was heavy in his hand, flesh spilling between his large fingers and you were so damn soft, everywhere. It made him want to sink into you, press his face between them and just feel your warmth.

Your breath hitches as he circles your clit, sending small shocks throughout your body. He moved your underwear out of the way, revealing your perfect cunt to his fingers with no barrier. Just as your hand snuck under his briefs, his middle finger was running between your folds, slowly letting more into your tight snatch. Even down between your legs were you soft, just as plump and warm. Your hand held his cock now, almost fully hard and with a gentle stroke you felt him hardening even more. Finally his long finger sinks in just as the strap of your dress slipped off your shoulders exposing more of your breasts to him. Without thinking he tugged your bra down making your tits bulge out from on top even more, “You’re so damn beautiful.”

He was being honest as he kissed the plump flesh feeling it bounce along his tongue and he just wanted to take a nipple into his mouth and suck. You didn’t answer verbally but he could physically feel the light squeeze of his cock on an upstroke and he was groaning around your nipple. His face was still rubbing against your breasts as his middle finger pumped in and out of your wet cunt lathering it in more slick and he took the chance to sink another finger in. You gasp, your tits bouncing against his face and he let them rub over his face while simultaneously hitting that spongy pleasure spot in your tight walls, stroking it everytime his fingers sank back in. You were still on your knees on his bed and he was still holding you against his side as you jerked off his cock but he wanted more.

Fingers still inside your pussy, he began to stand not moving your hand off his dick as he lightly pushed you back to lie down. His hand left your folds from behind and slipped it between your thighs again from the front. His pace quickens, and he uses his weight to hold you down, twirling your thick buds with his tongue. You breathed heavily feeling the twitch of his member when your thumb ran over the slit in his tip over and over again.

Without thinking, and probably too rough, his hands were leaving your breasts and pussy to pull at the fabric of your dress. It’s been teasing him all night and he needed it gone, so that’s what he did. The fabric was no match for the rough yank he did on it making it tear open and he was harsh with the way he yanked it off your body groaning at the sight.

He stood taking his jeans and shirt off as you undid your bra kicking it off exposing large breasts to his hungry eyes. His hands run down your middle, the soft chub on your ribs and stomach sinking his finger in and he was staring down at you with awe, “You’re so beautiful.”

“You already said that, I want to know what you’ll do to show it to me,” you teased wiggling your hips when his hand went to pinch at them, squeezing and groaning at the feel. He could feel a bit of your hip bone but it was mostly covered in plumpness that made his mouth water. Your hips were good for squeezing and he wanted to take you. Suddenly, realization hit him like a truck.

“I—I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on the pill,” you said already reaching between your bodies at his hard clock begging for attention, “As long as you’re clean and pull out.” He gave a brief nod of his head capturing your lips with his as you lined his dick up with your heat and did the honor of taking him. You moaned into each others mouth as he stopped at the ring of nerves that needed a bit more stretching. You were tight, he felt all the soft walls of your cunt squeeze his thick member as he sank in with a groan, squishing against you, breasts against his chest.

“Oh God,” you moaned against his lips at the first real thrust of his cock into your wet pussy and his hand was sliding down to grip your ass while the other was on your breasts. He squeezed both in time with a second thrust, still testing the waters before doing it again, quicker and rougher now.

His head rested against your neck, moaning your name softly, “So fucking beautiful, all of you, fuck Y/n.”

“You feel so fucking good,” he growled into your skin leaning down to take a fat tit into his mouth matching each lick of your nipple with a rough thrust. Suddenly he’s lifting himself up, hands leaving your sides to press against the bed on either side of your head. He looked down at your naked body licking his lips, slowly bringing his hips back before slamming into you with force that had your tits jiggling and his lips parted at the sight, doing it again so it could happen once more.

Jungkook lets out a long exhale as you continue to cry out his name making him work his lean hips, thrusting in and out of you with purpose.

“Jungkook,” you moaned, hands holding his sides as he fucks you, tight abdominal muscles flexing along with the veins leading to his dick all the way from his navel. The position only lasted a moment before he was laying his full weight on you again wanting to feel you pressed against him, body shaking along his.

“I’m so close,” you groaned when he gripped your ass, not being gentle in the way he squeezed, shaking it a bit and using it to fuck your pussy back into his cock, “Let me cum.”

“Fuck,” he slams himself into you feeling his entire body shudder but he was holding off, “Cum, fuck, cream my cock right now.”

“Oh God,” he groaned against your skin when you did just that, fingers curling as your release hit moaning beautifully into his ear and his body shook slightly. He was gentle but quick in the way he pulled out of you, your orgasm wavering as your slick leaked out of your folds. His cock was on your pubic bone now, spurts of creamy semen spilling onto you, covering you in his cum. His hand was on your knee for support but it was no use.

He was dead weight on top of you, but you don’t mind—you brush your fingers through his hair, giggling when you feel his soft lips kiss your breast, “You’re amazing.”

You felt his breathing begin to get uneven and you wrapped a leg around him continuing the brush of your fingers, caressing him since he seemed to need it. You held him in your arms as he clung to you. Now, you’ll admit, at this time you’d start getting your clothes again and find your things to leave. Maybe you would’ve already had a scheduled Uber but you weren’t doing any of that—and it wasn’t because he tore your dress in half. “You made me feel so good,” you whispered softly into his ear and it made him hum in appreciation, eyes shut slightly. He never realized how much tension he’d been holding onto without release until now that you held him.

You were naked and sticky, even sweaty, but that didn’t stop you two from snuggling after sex, his gentle lips leaving soft kisses along your neck tiredly as his eyes shut in relaxation. Like that, you both let sleep take over and you were warm in each other’s arms.

The sun shined brightly against your sleeping face. You squeezed your eyes shut some more but it did little to keep the light away. You decided to move, roll over and hide your face in one of your many pillows but as you tried to, you nearly fell. A yelp escaped your lips, face inches away from the floor as two arms caught you by the waist. Jungkook was half asleep but alert as he looked over your tired form. You fell back onto the twin sized bed pressed against Jungkook’s chest staring at your surroundings.

In better light and a clearer head you had a better chance to look around his apartment. It was smaller than you pictured when you were lying underneath him. You just didn’t realize it was this small. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been to a place that looked like this. His bedroom, kitchen and living room all in one space with ripped wallpaper and broken cabinets. Jungkook seemed to stiffen under you when he noticed where your mind was going.

Last night was… how should he put it without sounding so dramatic? He just felt very appreciated and not just his body but also the things he had to say. You paid very close attention to what he felt and it was more than anyone has in a while. Sure, the fighting gets him attention but not for anything good. It was abuse and exploitation. That made him hate himself but what he experienced last night was lively. He wouldn’t mind getting this feeling because of you again except you couldn’t be any more opposite and that’s what had him skeptical.

“You okay?” He asked suddenly, nervous because you have yet to say anything after your abrupt awakening and he’s itching to know what you think. His shabby apartment looked even worse than he imagined. You just gave a single nod and that made him anxious now, sliding a little out from under you trying not to pay attention to the way you were both still naked. He released a quiet sigh, “If you want to go home now, it’s okay, you can tell me.”

It was morning anyway, he’s not sure what he would expect differently. You seemed to snap out of your own thoughts turning as best as you could to lay on your stomach over him. He looked down at you with an expression you could only read as dejected, sullen or tired even. Your chest rests on his chest as you look up at him, “And what if I don’t want to go home yet?”

Jungkook couldn’t hide the look of surprise on his face when you ran your hand over his chest turning to look at him, “How about a shower together?”

You stared at the man in front of you expressionless, or well, you were trying to be. He, on the other hand, was open with you. A knowing smile on his face with brows raised in amusement. He was even leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, head tilted to the right just slightly waiting for you to speak.

“You’re starting to creep me out,” You said with a roll of your eyes as you looked over the roof, city life thriving about sixty stories below you. Jin cleared his throat, “I was wondering if you had anything to say to me.”

“About?” You asked as the waitress came back with your food. You were seated across from Jin at some high end restaurant for lunch. It sat on the roof of some luxury hotel and it’s where you two decided to meet between your classes. You had a feeling you knew what this was about but you weren’t about to give in. A day and a half was spent in Jungkook’s presence. You didn’t even go to class the following day, instead you stayed in his apartment and did absolutely nothing.

“You’re a vixen, y’know? You sank your claws into Jungkook and got him, I applaud you,” Jin said making you roll your eyes again. “What are you talking about? You’ve got a crush on him or something?”

“I’m just saying, I’ve been trying to get that guy to let loose but all he does is push every chance away,” Jin told you as he picked at his plate. Your eyes narrowed leaning forward against the table, “How do you two know each other, anyway? He didn’t really say.”

Jin sneered, “Of course he didn’t. He doesn’t like it.”

“Doesn’t like what? No, don’t tell me,” you shook your head. You wanted to know because you were definitely interested. But was it your business? Jin smacked his tongue, “It’s nothing serious.”

“I’m his manager of sorts, but also an investor?” Jin said with a shrug taking a big bite, “He’s a boxer, like in the ring with glo—“

“I obviously know what a boxer is,” you said clearly annoyed with your older friend who just chuckled knowing he was getting under your skin. You were curious now, “Besides, what does it matter to you? You work in a law firm.”

Jin groaned as if he had a reason to be annoyed with you when clearly he didn’t, “I’ve got a few interests, alright? Sketchy? Maybe, but it is exciting. I met him a year ago when I was watching a boxing match. He was new and he was good, a lot of strength and control. I just have this idea that he can make it big and I can get him there. It’ll be a give and take. I already make good money off his fights from my cut and imagine what a bigger audience can do?”

“So what you’re saying is Jungkook… he makes money from boxing?” You asked and he just shook his head no. “No, well kinda? His family has a lot of debt—“

“Stop, stop talking,” you covered your ears suddenly, “I don’t want to hear about his private stuff unless it’s from him. I get it. You kinda work together?”

Jin rolled his eyes, “Yes but that’s not what I wanted to talk about. I want to know what transpired you to go with him the other night. I didn’t peg muscular, tatted, brooding men as your type.”

“I didn’t either,” you said honestly, “But I don’t know. I saw him one time before that at a store and he had been bleeding from his forehead. I think that’s why I was curious at first.”

“And now?” Jin asked making your brows furrow. “What do you mean now?”

He sighed, “I mean are you curious still? Jungkook is a good guy, great guy even but it wouldn’t work Y/n. Your parents would kill you if they found out you were seeing a guy like him. He’s not… he hasn’t had the same privileges as you and it just wouldn’t look good. He’s a great kid but he’s got real struggles that you wouldn’t understand.”

“Hypocrite much?” You asked with a tilt of your head, “Like you would understand those struggles more than me? Are you going to tell him this too or just me because I don’t think Jungkook would appreciate it.”

“Jungkook’s smart, I’m sure he understands why it wouldn’t work. You’ve been to his place I assume, you had some thoughts on it I know. But at the end of the day, I’m loyal to you as a friend more than Jungkook. I’ve known you since you were five and I’m looking out for your best interest.”

“I don’t need you to Jinnie,” you rolled your eyes as you pushed your finished plate away. He let the topic drop with a reluctant sigh. He really did appreciate Jungkook as a person and even as a friend of sort but at the end of the day… what they had never went beyond business. The dinner the other night was to discuss another tournament, what happened after was a spur of the moment. He had respect for Jungkook for what the kid has been through but that’s what makes him wary. He’s seen how mad he can get, how little he actually has to support himself and how battered his life was. You wouldn’t fit in anywhere and Jin cares about you too much to let you fall for someone like him.

“Besides, I’m seeing him later after class,” you said brightly. Jin couldn’t argue with you anymore, he just wanted you to know what he thought. He knew Jungkook was a good guy, he just didn’t think he was right for you. Suddenly you flashed him a bright smile, big puppy dog eyes and a bat of your lashes, “You’re treating me to lunch right?”

“You probably have more money than me Hotel Heiress,” Jin said with a scowl but you didn’t let up. Your bottom lip curling down, “But you invited me.”

“Aish,” he rolled his eyes at you as he took his wallet out, “You’re so annoying.” “Thank you Jinnie, you’re the best.”

He took you back to campus after lunch and you went to your last couple of classes. Taehyung waited for you outside your last class, “Jia and I want to go shopping, you coming?”

“No, Jungkook is waiting for me outside,” you told him reading over Jungkook’s text telling you where he was. Taehyung’s brows furrowed, “Jungkook? The guy from the other night? Don’t tell me you’re seeing him again.”

“Fine I won’t tell you.” “Y/n I’m serious, I don’t know him but the other night something seemed of—Y/n!”

“Bye!” You sang as you saw Jungkook’s black, tinted car. He was outside waiting for you and a smile spread across his face. He pulled you in for a hug, “Aren't you cold?”

“Shivering,” you said with trembling teeth and he helped you into his car ignoring the rise of your skirt. Once he was inside he kicked the heat up, “So where do we go?”

He was nervous. He hasn’t seen you in a couple days and now that it’s the weekend he’s not sure what he should do. Is this a date? Do you even want to date him? You didn’t ask him anything over the time you were at his place but he could tell you wanted to. Would you run away when you found out the extent of his struggles? You bit your bottom lip in thought, humming as you tried to think of something, “Lets go to my place.”

So he followed the directions to the other side of the city where he’d dropped you off just days ago. He only got to look at the outside of the skyscraper hotel with your last name displayed in metal letters under the hotel’s name. The inside was gorgeous, marble everywhere with white clay walls and curved edges that gave the hotel a seamless image. Even the furniture was the color of the walls and the only pop of colors were deep green and shades of brown. He let you drag him into the elevator where you pushed for the top floor putting your key in to unlock the floor and he traveled the hundred stories up.

The second the elevator to your floor opened Jungkook’s breath hitched. He didn’t realize you had the entire floor to yourself until he walked in and saw the various doors to different amenities all just for you ranging from private gym to an entire room larger than his apartment dedicated to shoes and handbags. You walked down the hall to the main living space and he continued to look around. Large kitchen, large windows that looked over the skyline with a pool on the balcony.

“So this is your place?” He asked obviously as you went to your bedroom which, once again, was bigger than his apartment with a king sized bed and canopy. You gave a quick nod of your head disappearing into your closet to change into something warmer, “18th birthday present.”

He was too nervous to even sit on your bed but you came out all joyous jumping on him and tackling him down on it. Immediately, a jolt of pain shot up his side making him wince and you jumped to get off his lap. His hands gripped your waist keeping you in place and your brows furrowed in concern. You reached for his shirt when he held your wrist to stop you but you pulled it up anyway. Jungkook’s face heated when you stared at the faded bruise on his side. It was worse than it was when you two had sex, it was more brown now with yellow around the edges since it was old.

Your finger just barely brushed over it enough that it didn’t hurt but he still flinched at the contact making you frown as you straddle his groin, “You were fighting?”

His eyes widened at first but relaxed when he realized who would’ve told you. Maybe you were closer with Jin than he thought. Lord knows he only sees Jin when it comes to the business they’ve involved themselves with. You, on the other hand, were at Jin’s societal level and probably saw him at galas and fashion shows. So Jin told you about the fighting and you still let him into your home? Without another word you shimmied off his lap and he could feel his heart drop. Maybe you were rethinking things. Maybe you saw that it was a bad idea to get involved with him and now you’re backing out. He wouldn’t blame you after seeing the way you lived compared to him. He expected you to kick him out, not to lean down and press a soft kiss on his ribs, “Did you at least win?”

Jungkook gave a slight nod of his head in response and you smiled moving to lay on the bed now right next to him. You sat your head up on your palm looking over to him, “Do you like boxing?” He shook his head honestly and it made you frown, “So why do it then?”

He was quiet for a moment, “I’m good at it and it’s easy money.” “This is easy money?” you pointed to his bruise but before he could answer you were backtracking, “I mean… I’m just trying to understand but you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but lean forward to press a gentle kiss on your lips before wrapping an arm around your waist pulling you into his side, “Why are you so perfect? Aren’t you a little scared? I’m not a good guy.”

“Why? Because you beat the shit out of people for money? Oh yeah you’re such a thug,” you rolled your eyes, “Besides, I’m not perfect, I’m actually a spoiled bitch.” He laughed along with you snuggling in your bed despite the sun still being out.

“To answer your question from earlier, the only reason why I do this is to help out my parents. They’d kill me if they found out but they’ve got a lot of debt and I want to help them how I can. I dropped out of school my final year and I went straight to work,” Jungkook began to open up, “I didn’t want to leave school but we needed the money so I had to get to work. There weren’t many options where I’m from so I packed up my shit and came here.”

“Wasn’t that hard?” You asked cutely and he could see it in your eyes that even if you didn’t understand, you wanted to. He nodded, “Yeah, I slept on a lot of couches at first. I couldn’t get a good job since I didn’t have a diploma but I started working as a mechanic and was able to get the place I’m at now for cheap if I fix maintenance problems myself.”

“I met this guy who told me he knew how I could make quick money and it was just supposed to be a one time thing but I can’t support myself and my parents with just the car shop.”

“And Jin wants you to be a legitimate boxer? Like one of those lightweight champion fighters?” You asked making him crack a smile as you laid on his chest. He began to play with your hair, “Yeah and I just don’t get it. I’m not going to get far. I don’t how to play by all the rules. I don’t think it’s worth the risk. For now I’m fine working at the auto shop.

“But, you don’t want to see if it actually works out?” You asked curiously, “And would you want to work as a mechanic forever?”

“I’m not thinking about forever, I’m thinking about the present and what gets me by. When I get a chance to live comfortably then I’ll look at the bigger picture but I still don’t think it would be boxing.” He was honest and a little blunt but he didn’t mean to sound that way. He was just being realistic. He knows he’s living paycheck to paycheck and still coming up short but it’s what he needs to do right now. He can’t dedicate himself to a career where he doesn’t get paid frequently unless he trains and devotes all his time.

You didn’t say anything for a moment and it made him wonder if he made you uncomfortable. It’s not that he thinks you had it easy growing up but clearly you’ve grown up with a totally different mindset and endless possibilities. After a while before he could backtrack you spoke, “I see what you’re saying, sorry,” you mumbled and he seemed to squeeze you in his hold. He shook his head no though you couldn’t see him, “Don’t apologize. You were just curious.”

‘So can I go to see you?” You weren’t even done saying what you wanted to say when Jungkook was muttering a few ‘no’s’ making you turn to face him now still laying on him. You went to move back and his arm stayed loose around you but let you move, “Why not?”

“Because it gets really ugly and it’s dangerous. It’s not something I want the girl I’m into to see,” he said mixing in a confession and putting it out there for you to understand what he’s on. He absolutely had no desire to get close to anyone romantically but now that he has, he’s really interested. He finds you attractive but it wasn’t just that. You seemed to listen to him and though you could, you don’t judge him— or at least he didn’t hink you do. You looked at him with an annoyed expression but it was playful, “But I want to see you.”

You didn’t directly say you were into him but you did lean in for a kiss letting his lips meet yours softly. You released a soft moan when his arm tightened back around you turning his body slightly to kiss you better. The two of you pulled apart but his hand was still cupping your face gently and he looked down at you. You opened your mouth to say something but he immediately shut you up with another kiss before pulling away again, “So pl—“ Then another kiss on your lips and you couldn’t help but laugh when he did it again quickly now, “Please let me wa—okay!—“ kiss after kiss on your lips so you wouldn’t keep talking about seeing him fight.

He wouldn’t let you.

Or so he thought. Jungkook held your hand tightly as he led you through the thick crowd watching the fight from before. You looked around anxiously now. It was louder than you imagined, dirtier, rougher. It reeked of alcohol and dirty money. You could feel the stares on you when you walked past and though it made you uncomfortable, you felt a little better with Jungkook there.

He sensed your unease because he pulled you closer until his arm could wrap around your waist, pressing his face against yours to whisper in your ear, “You still okay?”

“Mhm,” you nodded leaning in to give him a quick kiss as he smiled, “Alright, I gotta get ready.”

“Jungkook! My man, you’re late,” a guy with a huge grin on his face approached. You ignored the way he seemed to look at your figure but Jungkook was pulling you closer to his side than before. Jungkook just smiled, “Things came up.”

“I see that,” the guy’s eyes stopped at your legs, then your hips, and chest, “I’m Hoseok by the way.”

“Y/n,” you answered in a snobby tone as you glared back at him. He was way too open with staring you down when Jungkook was there. Jungkook thought the same and it had him pulling you along, “I’ll be out in a bit.”

It was still strange to see you in the locker room with him. The same grimy room he was in last time when he was beaten pretty bad and still came out on top. You tried to hide your disgust but he could see it in the way you avoided touching anything. Jungkook cleared his throat, “I can take you back to the car, if you want.”

“Why would I want to leave?” You asked moving closer to him as he attempted to wrap his fists up by himself. Jin should be here soon to help him with that but until then you’ll just watch him get ready. He looked over to you, in your skirt and sweater making him even more nervous. He asked you to dress down, not because he didn’t love seeing your pretty outfits, but because he didn’t want anyone to get any ideas with you. He’d hate to hop out of the ring so people wouldn’t come at his girlfriend. It still feels weird to say that. Never did he imagine he’d get swept up so quickly and yet here you were, absolutely breathtaking and sweet.

His breath hitched so suddenly, your arms wrapped around his exposed torso in a back hug pressing a kiss to his shoulder plate. He turned his head to look back at you and you took the opportunity to kiss him on the lips.

“Sneaky little snake Y/n.”

You pulled away with a roll of your eyes. Jungkook looked to the swinging doors as Jin walked in. Jin glared at you, “What are you doing here? And why are you dressed like you’re going to a summer Christmas party?”

“I’m covering up,” you said only answering his last question as you let go of Jungkook to give Jin a spin, “Don’t I look pretty?”

“You always do,” Jin said with a shrug as Jungkook’s eyes narrowed in his direction at that comment. He still has to get used to the fact you’re very close with Jin. Tame his jealousy and be less serious all the time. His friend seemed to be thinking the same since he rolled his eyes, “Don’t look at me like that. Why’d you bring Y/n to a place like this?”

“Because I asked,” you said when Jin stepped up to help Jungkook put his gloves on. He scoffed, “And Jungkook is fine just doing whatever you ask?”

When Jungkook didn’t say anything Jin released an annoyed huff of breath as he finished up with the wrappings. Jungkook wasn’t paying attention to anyone but you as he lifted his gloved hands to reach for you. Jin looked between you two muttering something under his breath as he walked out the door giving you two a minute. Jungkook put the gloves on your hips as you moved between his legs looking down at him from where he was sitting on the bench. Your arms rested on his shoulders as he looked up at you with rounded eyes. He leaned forward resting his forehead on your chest, “I’m happy you’re here tonight.”

“Really? I thought you told me no,” you said playfully and he looked up again, still resting on you, squeezing you even closer to him. “But it’s nice to have someone there for me.”

You didn’t know what to say so instead your hands slid up from his shoulders to his face and you leaned down to meet his lips. He kissed back immediately, trying to touch you more but his gloves didn’t let him. It was short and sweet only interrupted when Jin opened the door back up.

He looked to you, “Come on, we’ll find somewhere to be, let Jungkook concentrate before the fight. He’s going up against a new guy first.”

Jungkook gave you a kiss goodbye and you told him good luck and left. You stood with Jin at the closest seats to the ring and he was trying to let you know what might happen tonight.

“So there’s two fights for him. The first will probably be the easiest but if he’s too worn out in the second he might not win. Now, he’s got a winning streak and a lot of people don’t like that so they’ll be fighting dirty tonight,” Jin told you honestly, “A lot of people are mad they’re losing money to him and there’s very few rules here. There’s a couple illegal moves but a lot of it is free game so beware he could get seriously hurt. Hence why I want him to go the professional route but he won’t, his family doesn’t want him fighting. If anyone talks to you don’t even entertain it, alright?”

“Yes dad,” you said, though you were definitely feeling anxious now. Music was loud but yelling was louder. It reeked of sweat, alcohol, blood. It was dirty and crowded and you could feel people looking at you. There were very few females here and they all glared at you too. Jungkook told you to not even bring your purse but you still felt like you needed to keep your possession close.

When Jungkook came out in just a pair of boxing shorts and shoes, mouth guard in looking like a completely different man than the one you kissed just moments ago, you saw him in a new light. Reality was hitting you that he was very much an intimidating man. When he passed you by he didn’t shy away from going to you for a good luck kiss before jumping over rope to get into the ring. When he kissed you it only made more heads turn.

You didn’t pay much attention to what the ref[?] was saying because it was so overwhelmingly loud in here. Practically overstimulating you and suddenly you weren’t so thrilled being here. Jungkook looked scary but so damn attractive, jumping from foot to foot getting his blood pumping as the other guy came in. He was roughly the same size as Jungkook, just less muscle. “You’re in for a show,” a voice spoke as someone plopped down next to you. You looked over to Hoseok who now sat on your left while Jin sat on your right.

“How much?” Jin asked him and they leaned over you to discuss betting amounts. When the bell rang you paid your full attention to the scene before you. Since this wasn’t such a professional fight there were less rounds to go through and the first knockout was a win. Only three rounds and he needed to score high on two to win.

The first round wasn’t a clear win. Jungkook did the first hit making the guy stumble back and you understood why everyone was so energetic. This was nerve wracking and everyone shouting for the one they wanted to win was getting to you. It was during the second round when things began to heat up. This time the other guy did the first hit, a hard fist to Jungkook’s bruised side but he didn’t even flinch. He delivered a harsh blow to the guy’s jaw giving him an uppercut that sent him stumbling against the ropes.

His body slipped to the floor, blood dripping from his mouth and your hands clasped together as the referee counted the seconds for knockout. The guy attempted to get back up but only kept slipping down on the floor. When the whistle blew the round was given to Jungkook. You clapped happily now making him look over to you with a small smile. He was already drenched in sweat, long hair stuck around his face and clearly out of breath. Jin got up with a bottled water and towel taking it to Jungkook as they talked about something you couldn’t here.

“What do you think so far?” Hoseok asked you as the third round started and your eyes locked in on the fight. You have a shy shrug, “It’s… new.”

Hoseok chuckled, “I bet it is, you’re the only one I’ve ever seen wear Cartier here. Better to take it off before someone else sees it.” You nodded but you didn’t take it off in case you’d lose it. Instead you hid it under your sweater now. The third round was quicker, it took one blow for the guy to fall and laughter rose around you.

By the end of the fight, Jin was hurrying you up to the locker room assigned to Jungkook again. Jungkook was already at the sink examining the damage but when he saw you he hid his bruised side. You didn’t even have to say anything when he was reaching for you, “You okay? Is this too much? I’ll have Jin take you to the car, did anyone say anything to you? I’m sorry, this is probably jus—“

You shut him up with a kiss, his body immediately relaxing into it as his head tilted to the side to deepen it with his tongue. Jin audibly gagged behind you, “I miss Jungkook when he was depressed. Now all you two do is eat each other’s faces off. How you feeling Kook?”

“Good, nothing major,” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly when Jin passed him an ice bag. The break till the next fight was really short. The guy he would be going up against had already fought his contender when Jungkook arrived. Once they have their fight and marks are tallied they’ll know who wins. If he wins he’ll be able to pay off some of his loans before the loan sharks come knocking on his door again. He’ll send money for his parent’s bills. He’ll pay his car payment, utilities, buy groceries, and take you out on a date. It won’t be as nice as you’re probably used to but hopefully he can do something. He’ll show you that even if he doesn’t have the kind of money you do, he’ll do anything for you to see how strongly he feels.

Having a support system in the audience cheering him on was motivation to win and he promises he’ll win for you. You wanted to watch him fight so he’ll give it his all.

You got back to your seats once the warning for the next fight came. Jin clutched your hand, “You’re holding up better than I thought. You’re usually more high maintenance. You don’t even like going to the gym because it makes you sweat.”

“But sweat looks so good on Jungkook,” you answered looking at Jungkook, “Now shut up. The fights about to start.”

“You think this guy’s got a chance against Seungmin?”

“Nah, he’s not that focused tonight. Probably because his bitch is in the crowd.”

Your brows furrowed at who was talking about you. Jin shook his head when you tried to turn and look, “Just ignore it.”

The first round started heavy. Jungkook’s opponent threw the first blow right in his face. His head whipped back as he was hit in the nose and you visibly winced. Jungkook didn’t feel too much pain from it, probably due to adrenaline, but it made his eyes water and blur for a second giving the guy a chance to hit him in the gut.

The crowd was going crazy around you as Jungkook delivered three hits in but his body collapsed to the floor. The guy had hit the back of Jungkook’s head that had him stumbling down on the floor in pain. You gripped Jin’s arm, “Isn’t that illegal?” He only shook his head, “Not here.”

7…

You waited to see if he’d get up but he couldn’t lift his head. Your leg was bouncing anxiously and before you knew it, the round ended with a knock out. Jin got up immediately going to Jungkook’s aid and he looked worse for wear. The round was given to the other guy and before you could even think you were walking to the rope. Jin was wiping blood off Jungkook’s face grabbing the back of his head checking for blood.

“He’s got a heavy hand,” Jungkook panted out of breath feeling his ears drum. Jin held his head, “Block your fucking head Jungkook. He’s playing extra dirty, he’s going to keep going for it if you’re already injured.”

“Jungkook,” you said softly making him turn, finally noticing you and suddenly he was sitting up on the stool. He sniffled, “Yes baby? Are you okay? I promise I’m fine, if it’s too much don’t look—“

“Fighter’s ready!”

Jin gave Jungkook a kiss on his forehead, “Two rounds. You gotta win this and then you get a pay grade. Alright?” Jin led you back to your seat before you could even talk to Jungkook more but maybe it was for the better.

Jungkook was tired, worn out from the last round and the fight before. His opponent at least had resting time after his fight since Jungkook’s fight was after. Jungkook didn’t get as long of a break before he was thrown into the last fight. He stood in position for the bell to ring but the guy across from him was jittery.

A smirk on his face as he looked over the audience before he snickered, “Brought your toy along? I like her, might just take her from you.”

Jungkook tried to ignore it, jaw tense as he reeled in his anger. The guy was a shit talker, he wanted to get in Jungkook’s head but he won’t let him. He just wants Jungkook to lose focus but he won’t. The second the bell rang Jungkook gave the first hit, getting Seungmin right in the stomach before giving him another hit on the side of his head.

You watched anxiously, Jungkook seemed to have felt better enough to fight back stronger. Hoseok looked over to you, “The kid’s got it, he’ll win.”

You’re not worried about him winning. You’re worried about how hurt he’ll be after and you understand now why Jungkook didn’t want you here. He was strong, he could fight and hold his own but watching him get beat black and blue was heartbreaking. But you couldn’t look away. You were at the edge of your seat, there was blood dripping down Jungkook’s eyes painting it red but he kept fighting, he stayed on his feet even when he was backed into a corner. He blocked his head with gloves and when Seungmin least expected it he punched his nose then jaw. The opponent’s body whipped with the force of the hit and though he tried grabbing rope, he crashed to the floor.

Jungkook was jumping from foot to foot keeping himself moving as the ref counted down to knockout and he released a breath. He sat on the stool in the corner of the ring tipping his head back staring up at the hanging lightbulb over them. They’re tie. This last round will declare the winner of this fight and it has to be him. He can get a few hundred and though most will go to bills he swears he’s going to try and take you out.

Jin was in front of him again, this time he pressed an Enswell to the cut above his brow, “Last round, it’s yours man, I can feel it. You’re faster, you’ve got more coordination. How’s your eye?”

“Hurts like a bitch,” Jungkook confessed through his mouth guard. He turned to look for you but stopped, wincing when Jin wiped the blood away. The cold metal against his skin was numbing the pain but he could still feel his eye swelling, “How’s Y/n?”

“Fine, focus on your opponent not your girlfriend,” Jin said harshly but he only meant it out of concern. He wanted Jungkook to be focused so he wouldn’t get so roughed up in the last round.

Now it was the last round. He shifted his mouth guard to fit better as he stared at Seungmin. He watched his head turn to look at you, eyes wandering up the expanse of your legs to your skirt. His words were mumbled due to the guard but he could understand him clearly, “Yeah, I’ll take her as my prize. She’ll look good as my bitch, bet she’s got a fat ass t—“

Jungkook shoved him, the crowd growing louder as the ref blew the whistle, pulling them apart. The guy only laughed glaring at Jungkook, “Look real nice with her legs spread just for me. She tight?”

The whistle blew.

The first throw Jungkook took didn’t land, it was too blinded by rage that Seungmin touched him first backing him up into the corner again with his larger build, “Bet she likes to fuck dirty with that body.”

Jungkook struggled, moving too quick to cause real damage and block his eye at the same time. Seungmin kept going, “You think she’ll put up a bigger fight than you? I like the figh—“

His breath was knocked out of his body when Jungkook threw a direct punch to his diaphragm making him stumble back. As he clutched his chest Jungkook took the opportunity to hit where his kidney should be, bringing the guy down to his knees in pain.

You were on your feet with everyone else cheering Jungkook on unbeknownst to what was being said about you. Though Seungmin was down, anytime he tried to get up Jungkook would stop him. With an uppercut, Jungkook punched right at Seungmin’s ear sending a ring down his ear drums and he fell to his side.

But Jungkook didn’t stop. The gloves made it hard for him to really get his hands on him but he wasn’t done. He didn’t even care about the round. He cared about beating the fuck out of this piece of shit for talking about you, so he did. He got over the guy, straddling his curled position as Seungmin blocked his own head from being hit. There were no rules outside of no weapons, and no weighted gloves so he wasn’t stopping until he was dragged off of him.

“Jungkook!” Jin called out when Jungkook brought a fist back and hit over the man’s hands getting as much of his head as he could. He raised another arm to do it again as the whistle blew.

He delivered another blow feeling the bounce of the mat, the ref saying he won since it was a knockout but he wasn’t done.

Just as he was ready to give him another hit he was being yanked off but he wanted more. He wanted the guy bloody and bruised for the way he talked about you. He lurched forward to do it but strong arms held him back, two people telling him to stop. The ref raised Jungkook, “The winner! There, you’re done with the fighting!”

He had to be dragged out of the ring by Hoseok and Jin. He could barely see out of his eye and the crowd half cheered half booed, “Where’s Y/n?”

He was feeling dizzy, drained and tired. Jin sat him down on the bench and you went to get ice. You wanted to cry though you had no reason to. He just looked so scary out there but also, he was clearly beat. You had to collect yourself instead of let your emotions show. You’re the one who begged him to let you see him fight. You passed the bag to Jin feeling like you needed to catch your breath. Jin let you sit next to Jungkook who seemed too far into his own world to pay attention.

He was hot, his body was on fire and he was breathing heavy, leg bouncing as he thought back to what Seungmin had been saying. The fucking disrespect. Even if you weren’t his girlfriend, how could Seungmin say things like that and expect Jungkook to not react? He wanted to fight him again, it was all he could think about.

“Take the keys,” Jin told you and you did. Hoseok came in shortly after, “I’ve got the cut. Seungmin’s mad, cussing at everyone saying it’s cheating.”

“Says who?” Jin scoffed making Hoseok shrug, “No one. Jungkook won, everyone could see Seungmin was instigating and now he’s mad he got his ass handed to him.”

He chuckled as Jin took Jungkook’s gloves off and the mouth guard fell to the floor. Jungkook grabbed a t-shirt ignoring his wounds as he stood suddenly. He grabbed his things and like confused idiots you all rushed after him.

The place was still bustling with drunk energy and Seungmin’s voice was heard over it all.

“Take him out the ring and I’ll fucking beat him.”

You stayed a little behind as Jin tried grabbing at Jungkook but he just pushed him off.

“I call rematch and I’ll take the money and his bitc—“

Okay, well now you knew what he had been telling Jungkook. Jungkook turned Seungmin around but before the guy could react, a hard fist was colliding with his nose. Screams erupted, some urging the fight, some calling security. This entire time Jungkook had been silent with only a deadly look in his eyes. You gasped loudly when the guy threw Jungkook off trying to get on top of him but Jungkook wasn’t letting him. His fists weren’t stopping and they were covered in blood now.

“Jungkook!” You didn’t know what else to do. You couldn’t just go in and stop the fight like an idiot but you didn’t want Jungkook to do something he’ll regret. Jin seemed to be thinking the same because he did try and get Jungkook off only to be shoved aside.

Suddenly, security was there, picking Jungkook up with an arm around his neck locking him in. He fought against the hold once Seungmin was sitting up spitting out blood but Hoseok cut in. You didn’t know he was the one in charge of it all but it made sense now.

“Enough!” He yelled out, “If you’re not inside that ring you’re not fucking fighting or your asses are done!”

You walked to Jungkook practically feeling the heat radiating off him but you tried being gentle as he fought against the security still, “Hey, Jungkook.”

He couldn’t even look at you, eyes set on the guy and before he could stop himself he was lunging for him again catching security off guard and accidentally releasing him. Seungmin fell into a group of people when Jungkook did it again. You covered your eyes blocking out the yelling as they tried getting him off.

This time security wasn’t so nice, picking Jungkook up and throwing him on the ground making him gasp for air from his injuries. You immediately went to him, “Stop, please, can you please just stop.”

You didn’t notice you were crying as Jin helped Jungkook up and silently dragged him out. Jungkook was mad even as you made it outside.

“I fucking told you not to come!” Jungkook yelled, “I told you Y/n.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you apologized, making Jin shove Jungkook into the passenger seat. “Stop acting fucking crazy or I’m leaving your ass here and taking Y/n home.”

You had the keys with you, hurrying to start the car so the two of you could leave but Jin was at Jungkook’s window. You rolled it down for him and the look on Jin’s face was saddened.

“Hoseok took half the cut for fighting outside the ring.”

“What?” Jungkook asked sitting up in his seat. Jin just nodded, “Took it, man I told you not to act out.”

Jungkook took the amount that was in Jin’s hands counting it up before cursing. It wasn’t nearly enough, not for everything. It wasn’t even enough to pay his family’s bills. When Jin pulled back you took the opportunity to drive but you didn’t take him to his place.

You were struggling when you pulled into the parking spot in the hotel parking garage and dragged him out. The garage was connected to the side of the hotel so you took him in the elevator as far as you could go and went up. As long as you avoided the lobby nobody would no how badly your boyfriend was beat.

He was silent now, all the pain finally hitting him at once and he felt hopeless. All that was for nothing. He won but at what cost? He let his emotions get the best of him and he yelled at you. Fuck, why did he do that? He couldn’t even apologize, it’s like his mouth had been sewn shut and look at this. You’re having to drag him yourself because he can’t walk himself. How pathetic.

When you got to a floor you found a cleaner and called to her as you got onto the right elevator hiding Jungkook against the wall, “Take a first aid kit to my room.” Everyone knew who you were and you couldn’t risk Jungkook being seen and your father being notified. The woman just nodded, running off already and you went to your floor. Jungkook didn’t say anything about coming to your place instead of his. He would’ve if he wasn’t trying to faint.

It didn’t take long for the first aid kit to get to your place and he followed you in.

He didn’t feel too awful but he was embarrassed. He didn’t even want you looking at him. His eye is practically swollen shut but thankfully it wasn’t the side with the piercing on it. He could still feel some blood on it but he had to force himself to ignore it as he followed you to your bathroom. You were bent over running the water in your overly large bath tub. You directed him to sit on the marble side of it and he did as told. You reached out to pull his shirt up but he stopped you.

“I can do it,” he mumbled looking down, “I’m fine.” You tried getting him to look and he wouldn’t but when you lifted his head he turned away making you frown, “You sure?”

“I don’t want you seeing me like this,” his voice was raspy, “Fuck I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry for yelling at you earlier.”

“It’s okay,” you said, holding his face gently, “But look at me, please.” It took him a second but when he did you released a sigh. You had a warm wet cloth as you began cleaning his eye area, “I’m here.”

He looked at you close to tears. “You don’t have to do everything alone. I want to take care of you too,” you said, making him sniffle. He shook his head, “I always do it alone, it's okay.”

“It’s not,” you said once he was finally undressed. You checked the water and poured some bath salts in and urged him to get in. He was naked in front of you but you couldn’t look at him, he didn’t want you to see all the pain he went through even if he says it’s not that bad. You sat on the edge of the tub waiting for him to get in and he did so shyly. As he sank into the warm water he looked back at you, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you in the car. I’m sorry you had to see me like that, okay? If you don’t want to be with me because of it I wo—“

“You won’t what? Stop me?” You asked cupping water in your hands and letting it run over his body, “So if I tell you right now that I don’t want you, you’ll just leave without a fight? You must not like me that much.”

“I love you,” he blurted out, happy that he was facing the wall instead of you but he would rather have you in here with him, “That’s why I wouldn’t stop you from leaving me. I’m not good enough for you.”

“Says who?”

“Y/n be serious, please,” Jungkook released a sigh turning to look at you. Now that he’s more cleaned up his wounds don’t look so bad but his eye was still swollen and his knuckles were bloody, “Look at me. Look at what I did tonight and where I live an—“

“I am looking,” you told him with your hands in his hair wetting it, “And tonight made me realize that I’m in love with you. I don’t care about where you live, I don’t care about any of that.”

“But I do,” he said when you started tugging your skirt and sweater off. Yes, he wanted you in his arms in this tub big enough to fit four people, but he didn’t want to just think about himself. He wanted you to know that he understands how different you two are and if tonight scared you, he understands why. He was a monster.

“Why?” You asked, sinking in across from him, “Why do you care about that stuff if I don’t?”

“Because it’s not enough for you. I want to give you so much of myself. I want to treat you the way you deserve to be treated and I can’t,” Jungkook said honestly, voice cracking here and there, “I’m not good enough, I fight to make money and look what happens. I can’t control myself, I yelled at you for no fucking reason and I hate myself so much.”

“Because you yelled at me or because you don’t think you’re enough?” You asked cautiously, making him shake his head no but he didn’t even know what he wanted to say. Yeah, he strongly disliked himself. He worked his ass off and it was never enough. He never had enough money, enough food, enough restraint, stability, or love.

You were careful when you leaned forward placing a soft kiss to his jaw, “I know you didn’t mean to snap. I know your buttons were pushed. I know you were stressed out and I don’t blame you at all. If I did I wouldn’t have you here with me. I don’t know how much more direct I have to be for you to see that I care about you so fucking much.”

“I don’t care about money, or yelling or any of that shit, I care about you and how you make me feel so safe because I know my strong boyfriend will beat the shit out of anyone who talks about me,” you said making your tone lighter at the end and he almost cracked a smile. He would never let anyone treat you any sort of way. That’s true.

His sore hands were holding your waist now underwater trying to pull you onto his lap. Though he’s been hit a few times in the gut, the place he was most hit was his face. His lip was pulled between his teeth, “My fighting scared you.”

“No, it didn’t,” you confessed, “What scared me is knowing that guy could do pretty much anything to you and it wouldn’t be breaking the rules.”

“I know,” he said, agreeing with you. It was getting extremely dangerous. If he gets hit in the head any more times he’ll get punch drunk before he’s 26. It’s not the fighting that’s the problem it’s where he’s doing it that is, “But as embarrassing as it is to confess to you, I need the money.”

“I understand baby, I’m not saying anything about that,” you told him honestly, running your fingers through his hair, “But it doesn’t have to be this way.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I agree with Jin,” you told him making his brows furrow as much as they could. “If fighting is what you’re good at and you want to fight then go ahead. It shouldn’t matter what anyone thinks unless they’re here caring for you instead of putting more stress on your shoulders. I know your family doesn’t like you fighting and honestly, after tonight, I didn’t like seeing that but it’s not because I don’t support you.”

“It’s because I do, that I want you to have better opportunities in a safer, more regulated environment and not some dingy ass fight club,” you told him with a kiss to his shoulder blade, “So I think you should think about going professional. Jin and I have good connections everywhere and with the right training you can get really far. But if you really don’t want to then I won’t ask anymore.”

“You think I can do it? How am I gonna have time to train when I’ve got to make money,” Jungkook asked, suddenly thinking about it. You were a lot more convincing than Jin but maybe it’s because you’re so loving—and naked in his arms.

“I’ll help you with mon—“ “No,” and he was unconvinced, “I’m not taking handouts. I’m sorry baby but not from you. You’re my girlfriend, you’re not supposed to have to let me borrow money. I want to be able to take you out and spoil you and I can’t if—“

“It’s not a hand out, it’s your girlfriend wanting to do things for you because she really loves you and wants you to be at a point in your life when you’re not stressing over every little thing,” you told him. He shook his head, still unconvinced. He can’t. He can’t. He loves you too much to put his worries on your shoulders. You pressed a kiss to his collarbone, “Besides I’m not saying you won’t be able to do it on your own, I know you can.”

“What I’m saying is that you don’t have to do it alone, and if it’s not money that you want help with that’s fine but don’t shut me out because you’re scared of relying on someone else. You’re too used to being the one dealing with your problems and everyone else’s. I want to be the one you have in your corner.”

“So I should go pro?” You nodded making his eyes dart around in thought, “I’ll still be fighting but I know now it’s because I like it.”

“Yes but you’ll be doing it as safe as can be, I don’t want you to go into a fight like this again and the guy do anything he can to get you down,” you told him and he looked up at you.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I am… I am asking for your help,” he struggled to get the words out but he did, “Because I don’t want to keep living the way I am, barely surviving and having to do dangerous things to get by. The reason why I never considered it is because I wouldn’t have the time or the money or even the support but I have you now.”

“You do,” you smiled, “And even if it doesn’t work—it will—but if it doesn’t, I’m still going to be here supporting everything you do.”

“I love you,” he blurted out looking in your eyes, “So fucking much and I’ve never felt like this for anyone else. I’m just sorry you have to see me like this.”

“Shhh,” you pressed your lips to his, “I love you too.”

You gave him a chaste kiss, “But we need you training on defense asap.” His brows furrowed as you continued, “I’m serious, you’re a good fighter but when it comes to blocking hits you suck.”

The two of you laughed lightly at that. It was true. He was a street fighter only using his fists to fight but when it comes to defending himself he’s not so quick. Hence why his face is usually the most damaged. His fingers sunk into your sides, “You gonna be my new trainer, baby?”

“Maybe, I know my way around a fight.” “Mmm, you’re gonna have to show me some moves but not in the ring.”

Your eyes rolled playfully, “Not tonight, you’re probably tired after your rounds.”

“I could still go for another round or two.”

“Are we still talking about fighting?”

::.

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a/n oooo not a boxer jk. still debating how I feel about the fic but it was fun to write

no part two but I will accept requests for drabbles of the fic

also, my blog now has a tipping option to support my writing :) I obv am not expecting any sort of payment but just added it

#kpop #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook au #jungkook angst #kim taehyung #bts #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #park jimin #bts smut

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