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eomayas · 11 months

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all the rumors are true • bbh

pairing: idol!baekhyun x f!idol!reader

genre: fluff & angst

synopsis: your secret relationship with baekhyun getting revealed, and what comes after.

warnings: none!

a/n: very self indulgent lmao i had this thought a few days ago and needed to get it out! the ending is a bit choppy i ran out of thoughts. heavily unedited and not proof read 🫣

“yes, i take care of all of them,” you laugh, nodding at the radio show hosts question about if it’s hard being a leader to a group of 4, including yourself. “especially our youngest.” you say, glancing over at sunny, the baby of your group.

“what’s the age difference between you and her?” the host asks.

“six years,” you say, making the host gasp.

“ah, so you’re 28… that means she was 16 when you debuted?” the host looks between you and sunny, both of you nodding. “wow, so you probably have had no time for dating since even before debut!”

you laugh, though it’s 90% true, which sucks. “yes, because she was so young when we were trainees—we all were—i was always with them to make sure they stayed out of trouble and weren’t around strange people,” you say, your eyes sliding over all of your members. “so, no, there hasn’t been a lot of time to date. but i’m not mad at that because i was taking care of my babies.” everyone chuckles at the last bit and mingwa puts her head on your shoulder.

“y/n needs somebody to take care of her!” heejin, the second to youngest member shouts. you smile and shake your head at her words, though they’re unbelievably true. if only the public knew that you were, though. that instead of laying your head on a soft pillow every night, you lied down on a hard chest and let strong arms hold you tight, while soft kisses on the top of your head lulled you to sleep.

“girl, i’m your candy,” sunny sings quietly. you don’t cut your eyes at her immediately, but the panic bubbles in your chest. nobody mentions her singing, or sings along, but sunny and mingwa share a quick look that freaks you out, makes you paranoid that in a few hours when the video recording of this session is posted, speculations will start.

you glance at sunny, hoping to catch her eye, but she’s engrossed in what the host is talking about. you can barely hear above your heartbeat in your ears, the blood rushing through so quickly it’s starting to give you a headache. you try to discreetly regulate your breathing, trying to remember those videos talking about square breathing that you found online. nobody seems to notice, except mingwa who taps your forearm and looks at you with concern that you brush off.

you manage to make it through the rest of the interview as normal as possible. you start talking a lot less, letting your members share more about themselves and the group, and nobody except for mingwa clocks that you were mentally somewhere else.

saying your goodbyes, the four of you get up and shuffle out of the radio station and into the outside world where dozens of cameras await. the shutters fly at rapid pace, and the flash on some of them are nearly blinding, but you and your group smile and pose, despite the chaos happening.

shuffling into the car, you let the three others get inside first. you take the last seat in the sprinter van and buckle yourself in, resting your head against the headrest. “y/n, are you alright?” mingwa asks, concern clear and evident in her voice. you let out a breath and sit up, turning around to look at sunny.

“why did you start singing ‘candy’, soojin?” you ask, using her full name. she looks at you with wide eyes at her government being called and holds her hands up in surrender. “do you know what people are going to say?”

“sorry, mom,” she shoots back, giving you an incredulous look. “all they’re going to say is that i’m acting exactly like how the youngest person is supposed to be acting—interrupting you and singing over everybody. nobody is going to say anything about you and baekhyun.” you press your lips together, stumped because she’s most likely right, even though you have an inkling in the back of your brain that somebody is going to take notice, and make something out if it.

“well, you don’t really want people thinking you go around interrupting everybody,” you chastise. sunny rolls her eyes at you and sighs dramatically.

“we are quite literally the perfect group—i don’t know why you are so worried about our image all the time,” she says. you decide that the conversation is over, and sit facing forward again. sunny doesn’t understand that everything, at the end of the day, falls on you. people look at you like you birthed these girls and raised them up yourself. if one of them screw up, it falls on the entire group but rests on your shoulders to clean up. your image is so important to uphold, because there has only ever been one scandal to your groups name at the beginning of your careers that you did everything possible to stop the public from shaming you and the girls. it’s not easy to do that.

the ride is silent, save for their nails tapping against their phone screens. you sit with your eyes closed and your head leaned back, ready to dive into bed and maybe call baekhyun. maybe.

“would it really be that bad if everybody knew about you and baekhyun?” sunny asks, cutting into the silence. you open your eyes, but don’t turn around. the hair on your arms stands up at his name being mentioned so loudly, somewhere that isn’t the safety of your dorms.

“yes,” you reply. you think about the uproar it would cause, and what it would do to your career. his would be fine, of course, because the dismissal is never the same for men as it is for women. your group would probably have to disband, or you’d have to leave. it would look terrible, especially since you are the leader, if this was public news. “it would be awful, sunny. i cant lose my career over a man.” and while a nasty pang of guilt rips through your chest, it’s the truth.

“but… you told me you think that you love him. that’s not enough?” when she says these words, it’s like she’s 16 again, asking you why the world was mad at your group for a rumor about heejin. her voice is small, naive almost, and it reminds you how far apart you two really are.

you can’t help that your eyes start to water. “soojin, can we talk about this later?” you ask, blinking back the tears. you swallow thickly and pull your headphones out of your pocket, turning up your music loudly to block out any thoughts of you and baekhyun, and the public finding out.

getting back to the dorms, you head straight for your room. you close the door behind you and pull out your headphones and sigh, your head pounding. flopping onto the bed, you bury your face in the pillows and close your eyes.

you’re disrupted by a knock only moments later, and you let out a breath before telling whoever it is to come in. “y/n?” sunny’s voice calls from the doorway.

“yeah?” you roll over and sit up on your elbows to look at her. she gives you a sheepish smile and comes over to your bed, crawling in bed next to you like she used when you guys were trainees and she kissed her family.

scooting over, you make space for her to rest her head on your shoulder, your arm wrapping around her. “sorry for earlier. i guess i’m just trying to see the positive side to it,” sunny says.

“it’s fine,” you sigh. “i’m just super paranoid.”

“is baekhyun?” she asks.

you shake your head above her. it’s amazing to you that he seems to have no qualms or fears about your relationship becoming public. he’s fine with it being a secret or being news, and it makes you feel like shit, like it looks like you’re afraid of being seen with him. though it’s far from that. “no, and i guess that’s what makes me more stressed out. because he’s too chill about it, and doesn’t seem to be worried.”

“he’s old,” sunny snorts and you chuckle. there’s only four years between you and him, so she’s technically calling you old too, but you don’t say anything. “are you gonna tell him you love him?” she asks after a beat of silence. you still against her and she lifts her head to look at you.

it’s a sensitive subject—you and baekhyun haven’t said it yet. you won’t say it, because you’re afraid it’ll open a dam of bad things starting to happen. like once it’s out in the open, the worst possible thing could happen to your relationship. “maybe. i don’t know. probably not,” you ramble.

sunny gives you a sad look and squeezes you into a hug. she doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, but enough passes between the two of you. i’m here for you, she says. i know, you say back.

baekhyuns hands are on your ribs, holding you firmly and pressing you flush against the side of his car as he takes you into a nice, soft kiss. your arms snake around his neck, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair at his neck.

his lips move slowly against yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease. your chest burns with adoration and want, and him tugging you closer to him only makes you throb. pulling away, his mouth chases yours and you let him kiss you again, this time letting him tilt your head back so you’re practically lying against the car.

it’s risky to be out in the open like this, but the parking garage is secluded and for residents of his apartment only. you would see and hear anybody coming through, but so far you haven’t in the last seven minutes.

you pull away from him again, and stop his advances by gently pressing your fingers to his lips. “baekhyun,” you say softly. he kisses your fingertips and then your cheek.

“yes?” he says, looking into your eyes with an intensity that makes your knees weak, so much so that you rest your weight against the car.

“can we go inside?” you ask, your fingers dancing on his cheek. he nods and kisses your palm before grabbing it and taking you to the elevators. baekhyun wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, kissing your temple for a long time, all the way until the doors open, and then pulling you down the hallway to his apartment.

he helps you out of your coat and hangs it up. “what do you want to eat?” he asks as you step out of your shoes.

“bold of you to assume i’m hungry,” you tease, but you’re always hungry around him, and you are hungry right now. baekhyun rolls his eyes at you and repeats his question. “i don’t know. chicken? ramen? rice? whatever you want.” you say, kissing his lips. he holds you close for a beat before letting you go so he can get something started for the two of you.

you bound to the living room and sprawl out on his large couch, turning the tv onto one of the many shows you two have started watching together. you get comfortable and pull a blanket over you, snuggling into the cushions while he busies himself with the task of making dinner.

baekhyun comes into the living room with two bowls of food a few minutes later. you sit up and thank him as you accept the dish, crossing your legs and resting the bowl in your lap. “what did i miss?” he asks, and you catch him up on the show in between bites.

you two eat in a close and comfortable silence. he’d probably have his arm around you if it wasn’t uncomfortable while you two were eating. the close proximity is enough though, your knees touching and his right arm lightly bumping into your left.

you set your bowl on the table, ready to get up to get a drink but baekhyun gets up quicker than you, already knowing what you want. he goes into the kitchen and comes back with two glasses of water. it feels like the world is slipping beneath your feet, and you could cry because of him.

this is the taking care of that heejin said you needed. you finally have it—he’s always like this with you, feeding you, making sure you’re well rested and fed and just okay. he takes whatever worries you have and throws them on his back and just lets you be.

after dinner, you and baekhyun retreat to his bedroom. you lie on his bare chest, a hand resting on his stomach and your ear against his heart. baekhyun mindlessy plays with your hair, his fingers digging into your scalp soothingly. your eyes can’t help but flutter close—there’s no point in trying to fight sleep. you’ll wake up with him tomorrow.

the speculations didn’t start the next day. no, everybody thought it was so cute and funny that sunny blurts out random things while her older members are talking. there were compilations made from your groups content; interviews, your group vlogs, and more. it was funny, honestly, that they adored her disruptiveness.

the speculations started four days later. and when the news broke, the internet nearly stopped working because there were pictures and videos. so many pictures and videos, that it felt like somebody may have been stalking you. there were pictures of you and baekhyun kissing against his car, of you two in his car, of you two getting out of his car, of you two going for a late night walk near the han river.

and then there were videos—albeit, mostly can made—that served as proof that you two really are dating. there’s the longing looks shared at award shows, zoomed in videos of you two standing next to each other on stages, hands brushing. the other videos are just more reasons to believe that you two are dating; heejin saying you need to be taken care of, and then clips of baekhyun taking care of his own members. videos of you talking about your ideal type, and clips proving that you must have been referring to baekhyun, or jaír got really lucky that you found him.

it’s overwhelming.

when the pictures surfaced, you and mingwa were in the practice room dancing to your debut songs. the alert popped up on your phones at the same time, but mingwa grabbed hers first. you heard her gasp and ran over, thinking she might’ve twisted her ankle, but instead were met with her guilty eyes and her perfectly fine ankle.

you didn’t know what to do when you saw the photos. your heart stopped and your felt sick. your head started pounding, and it felt like a rug was being pulled from underneath your feet. you didn’t know what to do, so you started crying, falling to the floor in a heap. you weren’t sobbing, but your were audibly crying, and mingwa wasn’t sure what to do. you managed to get yourself together, and excused yourself to your room, avoiding any staff members on your way.

and now you’re on the phone with baekhyun, trying not to burst into tears as he keeps telling you everything will be ok. “baekhyun, this was such a bad idea!” you cry, pressing your forehead into your hand.

“what was? dating me?” he asks, slight offense in his voice.

“yes!” you shout, but you don’t even believe yourself. “w-we shouldn’t have gotten involved.” you’re adding fuel to the fire, hoping he’ll just break up with you so you can say those photos aren’t real, and that you’re not longer dating so everybody can leave you alone.

“you don’t mean that,” baekhyun says, his voice soft on the other line. it makes you feel like shit. “do you?”

you shake your head, though he can’t see you. “no,” you say meekly. “but we- y/n, you knew this could happen even before we started dating.” he interrupts, shutting you up. you press your mouth into a thin line. “don’t try to push me away now, y/n.” the overuse of your first name makes you feel like you’re being scolded by an elder.

“okay, i’m sorry,” you say, sighing. baekhyun parrots you and you press your body into your mattress. now would be the ideal time to tell him you love him, but it feels like it would be a poor bandaid to apologizing for saying that you should have never agreed to date him. “i don’t know what to do.” you mumble.

“let our companies handle it. you just get some sleep,” he says. you chew on your bottom lip, wishing that he was here with you.

“okay. goodnight, baekhyun,” you say. i love you, you want to add.

“goodnight, y/n.”

when you wake the next morning, your group, managers, and baekhyuns team are all in the dorm lounge. you freeze when you see him, ready to jump out of the nearest window because you know exactly what is about to happen. “we need to release a statement,” your manager says, beckoning you over to everybody.

gingerly, you walk over to your girls, sitting next to heejin at the end of the sofa, the furthest you can get away from your boyfriend. “so, i assume it’s true? the rumors about you dating? you can say no, but i’ve seen the pictures,” baekhyuns manager says, looking over at you. you nod, and when everyone keeps staring at you, you pipe up and say “yes”, your voice hoarse.

“great. how long has it been?”

“seven months,” baekhyun says, his eyes flicking to you. heejin gasps beside you, grabbing everybody’s attention.

“oh, sorry!” she says, waving everybody off. “liar!” she whispers. you told her that it’s only been four months.

both of your guys’ managers read from what looks like a checklist of things, asking you questions and scribbling down answers so they can formulate each of your statements.

“are you happy?” your manager asks, not looking up from the sheet. it’s an easy questions, and you both answer ‘yes’ with ease. “are you in love?” the question lodges your heart in your throat, and the room gets eerily silent, so silent that you could hear a pin drop in the next room.

you don’t know what to say. you don’t want to lie, and look terrible, but you don’t want to tell the truth and further complicate your relationship.

you glance over at bakehyun, and find him already looking at you. you know what you’re going to say the moment your eyes meet, and you feel your stomach flip on it’s side. your heart melts like goo in your chest as you say, “yes”, admitting after many long months the one thing that’s been clawing at you in the back of your mind.

your manager scribbles down your answer and turns to baekhyun. “baekhyun?” he asks. his eyes never leave yours, and it feels like you’re the only two people in the room, despite the fact that there’s about 10 feet of distance between you two.

“of course,” he says it so sincerely that you drop your gaze to your lap, your face turning red and a smile overtaking your lips. your group members giggle and elbow you in your side, equally as happy to hear the news.

you feel over the moon, and your past paranoia is put away and shoved into a box that you choose to ignore for a moment. both of your teams curate statements, and they’re sent out less than an hour later. you and baekhyun take the rest of the day for yourselves, driving out far to the beach and hanging there all day until it gets dark, and your teeth start clattering because of the weather. and when you get in the car, he kisses you and you quite literally feel the love has for you, and your brain goes fuzzy to the point where all you can remember is his name, everything else being put to shame.

the responses you get to your relationship are much more positive than you expect, and of course there are negative comments, but not nearly as many as there are of the positive comments. people cnat help but gush at how you found your person, and are finally getting to get taken care of.

but, of course, cameras are on you more heavily than in the past. and now, when you go on variety shows solo, they want to know about your personal life before knowing about the group. you learn to get used to it, giving way to basically nothing, and sometimes sharing more than people expect, when you want to.

like, when you go on a variety show alone with a bunch of other idols, the same show baekhyun had been on in the past, they bring up an interview moment where baekhyun says that you’re the better dresser of the two of you. you’re asked the same question, and you answer baekhyun, and follow up with admitting that you’re wearing his clothes at that very moment. that makes the internet go crazy, searching high and low for pictures of baekhyun wearing the same item, comparing how it’s massive on you but fits him snugly.

or, when you attend the end of the year award shows and exo performs, the camera is on your group more often than you’d like to admit. there are fancams dedicated to your reaction of his groups performances, everybody focused on how you react to baekhyun specifically. of course, the same thing happens to him with you, and he’s a lot more shameless about his support of you.

you group responds well to your now public relationship. you’re able to get all five of you together more often, and they look at him like a bigger brother. sunny often tags along on your dates and asks about baekhyun and genuinely treats him like her uncle. she makes a lot of jokes about the two of you, mainly on camera. like, when you’re filming content for you groups vlog, she asks how baekhyun asked you out, and then sings the bridge of ‘blooming days’ by CBX, and does the dance too. the internet eats that up, constantly sharing the clip because it truly was funny.

despite the public news of your relationship, though, you and baekhyun manage to keep it private. besides what you choose to share, you can easily dodge questions about your private lives and keep the mystery alive. it does help your relationship now that more people know—there’s no threat of getting caught, or the constant feeling of breaking the rules. it’s easier now, and better than ever.

#exo imagines #exo scenarios #exo x reader #exo x you #baekhyun fic #baekhyun x you #baekhyun oneshot #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun angst #exo fluff

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give-grian-rights · 4 months

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Hermitcraft - Basic History of Teams!

Alright. Buckle in.

Only a few days from now, and Hermitcraft 10 will begin! If you're new, I hope this helps!

Hermitcraft has existed for over ELEVEN YEARS now! While very few have been here for every single season, with the exception of our lovely Tumblr Resident, and official Tumblr Sexy Man Joe Hills, and our derp Xisumavoid.

You are under NO obligation to watch every season. There are probably few, if any, active users in this community who have. It's just not possible to watch it all. You don't need to watch the previous seasons to enjoy our community space! While there are a lot of back-references, for MOST people, it doesn't extend to lore and actions any older than season 6.

Most of the Hermits are associated with specific other members, despite ALL OF THEM taking turns collaborating, interacting, and sometimes building whole new dynamics and factions in the process. Some of the team-ups that you'll see referred to in fandom-spaces and the occasional one-off mention from our creators, include:

(Season 5) NHO, New Hermit Order - Docm77, Ethoslab, Bdoubleo100, and VintageBeef. Living in a jungle while having "fights" with others. Attempts to tax those who enter their jungle, had traps around it, and criticized the then-popular AFK Fishing Farms. Bdoubleo100, or Bdubs, especially enjoyed stealing from these. (Season 5-6) Convex, or ConCorp - GoodTimesWithScar and Cubfan135. One group I am the least familiar with unfortunately. They built a brand around the Vexes, with their business having pretty extreme low-morals that includes pollution and war profiteering.

(Season 6) ArciTects - Very close to be naming "BuildStone", it was proposed by and founded by Grian to Mumbo, later giving an invite to Iskall85. The purpose of this alliance was for builders to help redstoners, and redstoner to help builders. It accumulated in the ATTEMPT of founding the "greatest shop in the history of Hermitcraft", Sahara. It was, hilariously, a very large failure. Grian miraculously managed to entirely ruin the system with a single baked potato. No, I don't know how.

(Season 6) G-Team & Team STAR (Superior Tactical Alliance for Retaliation) - The Hermitcraft Civil War, consisted of a long list of minor conflicts in which various members of Hermitcraft blamed other people for pranks they committed, eventually spiraling into the confusion that was The Civil War! G-Team: Grian, TangoTek, Iskall85, Joe Hills, ZombieCleo, StressMonster101, and iJevin. Team STAR: Docm77, WelsKnight, FalseSymmetry, ImpulseSV Xisuma, RenDog

Mumbo Jumbo acted as a mole in Team Star, for the G-Team. He created this commercial for Team STAR. Team STAR made a very iconic diss track, which was soon remixed. It is a...Very iconic piece of Hermitcraft fandom. The result was Joe Hill's Response, in his short video also remixed by the same creator. Albeit missing the additions of the totally real voices of the other G-Team members

(Season 6) Area 77 & The Hippies - (I didn't finish Hippies POV and i didn't watch anything of Doc or Scar's POV of this unfortunately) Area 77 was founded by (unsurprisingly) Docm77, and GoodTimesWithScar, where they were doing experiments and studying abonomalies. SOmehow, this lead into Grian, once again, turning against them and forming The Hippies with the help of Ren, with Impulse soon joining. The conflict primarily consisted of them griefing Area 77 with flowers.

(Season 7) Boomers Demolition - Early game business formed by TangoTek, Bdoubleo100, and ImpulseSV which consistedo f almost exclusively non-duped TnT demolition, and was very fun!!

(Season 7) The Mycellium Resistance/HEP (Hermitcraft Environmental Protection) Hermicraft 7 saw Grian introduce the Hermitcraft Mayoral Election, created with the idea of putting Mumbo in as a puppet-government. If I had a nickel for every time Grian tried to start a puppet government (at this point) I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird it happened twice. Grian and Mumbo lost. In it's place was GoodTimesWIthScar. As Mayor, they had further control over the shopping district. Scar's promise was to replace the shopping district's Mycellium with grass. Despite very happily admitting that grass looked better, Grian, in a moment of nostalgia, decided to replace some Mycellium. Scar proceeded by putting caution tape around the area. This spiraled into The Turf War

Mycellium Resistance: Grian (Mother Spore), ImpulseSV, RenDog, XBCrafted, iJevin, Ethoslab, StressMonster101, Docm77, and Mumbo Jumbo HEP/Mayor Scar: Scar, Bdoubleo100, Keralis, Xisumavoid, TangoTek, Cubfan135, FalseSymmetry, Mumbo Jumbo, who joined due to them having the better vault. Etho had intended on being a double-agent, selling information to Scar. His information, however, was useless on purpose and decided to pledge full loyalty to The Resistance.

(Season 8) Boatem Hole - Grian, Mumbo Jumbo, GoodTimesWithScar, ImpulseSV and PearlescentMoon more or less stumbled and tripped into forming a group after innocently stacking boats and crafting tables and crystals on a pole, dubbed Boatem Poll. They then proceeded to create a hole down to bedrock, and eventually into the void, called the Boatem Hole. It was a large plains biome which was turned into varying mountain terraforming and the like from all of them and was connected in some small ways.

(Season 8) The Big Eyed Crew - Bdoubleo100, Keralis, and TangoTek. Tango did not, in fact, have big eyes and instead wore sunglasses to compensate. They had a town and shopping area and was occasionally dragged into pranks by the Boatem Crew.

(Season 8) Octogon/Goatem - Docm77 and RenDog! Main rivals with Boatem (thus the Goatem - pole of goats) had a mega business, game-breaking creations, and jaw-dropping spidery teal-and-deepslate creations. Weird Science!

(Season 9) Soup Crew - ImpulseSV, PearlescentMoon, GeminiTay. Made the CRAZIEST combo-base where all their different themes blended into a cohesive build

(Season 9) Buttercups - Grian, MumboJumbo, and GoodTimesWithScar. What's up, Buttercup? They formed after an incient where Scar and Grian blew up a massive, complex tunnel bomber in Doc's base. They could not understand how to repair it, and left a few diamond blocks before conflict started. They dragged Mumbo in, and had a robot fight with...

(Season 9) The Perimeter - Docm77 and RenDog. Doc's base, known as The Perimeter, teamed with Ren to attack the Buttercups using walking redstone creations to do a robot fight. Due to an issue with one of the server's plugins, they all re-logged, breaking one of the bots and ending with Buttercup's bot to do more harm to itself than the Perimeter's, but ultimately the destruction did prevent Doc and Ren from getting any further. Ren and Doc then launched flying TnT dupers, which looked like butterflies, towards all of the Buttercups' bases and camp. They stopped them both, with one butterfly destroying The Perimeter's own bot even further.

I am so sure that I'm missing some, but I am losing my mind with all this trying to remember them all!! I hope this could give people an idea of who they might enjoy watching!

#hermitcraft #hc #hermitblr #hermitcraft 5 #hermitcraft 6 #hermitcraft 7 #hermitcraft 8 #hermitcraft 9 #hermitcraft 10 #mika-posts

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therealmrsgojo · 3 months

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Valentines special (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

Hi, everyone! Posting my personal favorite snippet on my fic I'd lie! you can click the link if you want to read the full version of it. summary: first time meeting itadori yuji, as gojo satoru's wife! warnings: canon-compliant, pregnant reader and drunk-in-love gojo.

15th of August, 2018

You find yourself in the kitchen, humming softly to the music playing in the background. The aroma of the spices and herbs fills the air as you chop the vegetables for tonight's dinner.

A small smile adorns your lips as you hear the servants of your home offer to do the chopping instead. "No, thank you. I find myself enjoying these lately," you politely decline.

The servants bow to you in return, watching in admiration, their eyes fixed on the elegant and glowing woman in front of them, the head wife of the Gojo clan.

As you continue your tasks, your phone rings, breaking your concentration. You wipe your hands on the tablecloth and answer the phone.

"How's my pretty wife doing, hm?" Satoru's voice greets you from the other end of the line.

"I'm doing well," you reply, looking back at the pot and stirring its contents. "I'm cooking our favorite dish. It's almost done, honey."

"Shouldn't you be resting?" Satoru's voice inquires with concern. "You just got off from work. If you're going to do the cooking instead of letting the helpers do it, why don't you quit your job for now and just wait for me every day with your pretty little face?"

"That's not going to happen, Gojo Satoru," your tone was stern and resolute. You continued by confessing, "I hate doing nothing. Simple things like cooking make me happy." He could hear the passion in your voice as you spoke about your newfound love for cooking.

On the other end of the line, he sighed deeply, realizing he couldn't argue with you. He knew that you were a determined and independent person and that it was hard to change once you set your mind on something.

Imagining your pouty lips, pleading eyes, and even a soft, simple "please" from you would make his knees buckle in defeat. He, the strongest sorcerer, was no match for you.

"And also, I wanted to give you a heads up that Megumi will be joining us for dinner tonight," he said, pausing a moment before adding, "Oh, and a new student of mine, too, if that's alright with you."

"Of course it's okay," you replied with a smile, "I appreciate you telling me beforehand so I can prepare. Do you remember the last time you brought Maki, Panda, Yuuta, and Megumi all at once? I was caught off guard and unprepared."

"I remember. Especially how you didn't kiss me for a whole day afterward because you were so upset." Satoru laughed, adding, "We'll be there soon. Love you ~ "

As the call ended, you turned to one of the servants standing nearby, ready to assist you at a moment's notice.

"Hana, please prepare some guest rooms for tonight," you said, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice. "We might need them later for our visitors. Thank you." You patted her shoulder, seeing her nod, before she turned around to follow your orders.

After your engagement, the wedding came soon after, taking place a few months later. You and Satoru had decided to have a simple ceremony with only the most important people in your lives present. You wanted to honor the traditions of the Gojo clan that had fascinated you since you first met Satoru.

Following your honeymoon, you were named the new head wife of the Gojo clan. Satoru's parents had decided to move out, passing on the responsibility of running the family estate to you and your husband. This was a significant moment for you both, as it was a tradition that had been passed down through generations.

The other servants had kindly taken care of wrapping up your cooking and set the table for dinner. You stood in the kitchen, washing your hands; you couldn't help but feel satisfied with your small accomplishment.

Lost in thought, you suddenly felt a pair of soft hands tenderly caressing your stomach, a body pressing up against your back, and nose slowly breathing in the scent of your neck. The unexpected touch sends a shiver down your spine, but you quickly recognize the familiar touch of your husband.

As you turned around, you saw your husband's warm smile that lit up his face. He quickly bent down to one knee and nuzzled his face into your stomach, murmuring, "I missed the both of you." You laughed at his affectionate gesture as you lovingly caressed his hair in response.

"I'm not sure they can hear you yet, love," you conveyed with a gentle smile. "I'm just barely two months pregnant, 'Toru."

Your husband looked up at you with a pout on his face, making you giggle like a teenager. He then stood up, took your face in his hands, and pressed soft kisses to your forehead, nose, and lips. The warmth of his embrace and his scent enveloped you completely.

He then turned to you and said, "Hi, my wife," looking at your face with a loving gaze, as if he was seeing you for the hundredth time but still couldn't get enough of you.

You both heard voices from the dining room, and your husband took your hand, pulling you and leading you toward the two students you had been expecting.

As you entered the room, a pink-haired boy with a curious look on his face muttered, "Wow, it's so big here, Fushiguro," his eyes scanned the delicate features around the room in amazement.

"(Y/N)-san," Megumi noticed you first and walked towards you with a small smile. You embraced him, feeling happy to see him doing well, patting his back and giving him a quick peck on the cheek before letting go. "How are you, Megumi?" you asked him.

"I'm doing well, thank you, for all that food you sent to the dorms, too," he replied, his cheeks turning slightly red at your affection.

As you stood there, your husband caressed your hair and introduced you to the other student. "Yuji, this is my wife (Y/N)," he said, turning towards the boy staring at you in awe, his mouth slightly apart.

"Itadori Yuji, nice to meet you," he said, bowing profoundly and complimenting you on your beauty that made you and your husband laugh.

"Nice to meet you too, Yuji. Let's go eat now, shall we?" you said softly, patting his shoulders as you led him to one of the dinner chairs.

The dinner was filled with laughter and stories as you all caught up with each other. You felt happy to see Megumi and Yuji bonding so well, as they were a perfect mix. You also learned about Nobara, another student you wanted to meet soon. As supper ended, every one commended your cooking, and you suggested that the two students stay for the night, offering rooms that were ready for them. They agreed happily.

As you both retired to your quarters, your husband's face was pressed up against your stomach, his hands caressing your hips as he mumbled sweet nothings to your unborn child.

You ran your fingers through his hair, smiling at the sight of the strongest sorcerer alive baby-talking to your pregnant stomach.

"I love you, (Y/N)," Your night was spent tenderly, with sweet words lingering in the air between you and your husband.

The moonlight bore witness as you made love with each other, lost in your own world of passion and intimacy.

Note: Aaaand that's it! Happy hearts day everyone! Thank you for reading this.

"Where we love is home – home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts."

xoxo,

Aurora.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #jjk satoru #satorugojo #gojo #jujutsu satoru #valentines day #aurora's fics

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rose-pearls · 1 year

Note

mentor!finnick x tribute!fem!reader

maybe this is a year or two after finnicks victor

maybe reader had to be extremely brutal in the games and when they come back theyre covered in blood and just traumatized and finnick has to comfort them

Hi! Thank you for the request here it is, hopefully you like it!

The arena is in a blur in front of you, the last tribute dead at your feet while your hands tremble so much that the knife falls out of your hand.

“Hey, listen to me. Are you okay with having blood on your hands during the games?”, the words of Finnick come back to you and although you had assured him before, that it wouldn’t be an issue. You can’t seem to be able to hold back the want to wash your hands a thousand times at the sight of them.

There was blood on your hands, thick dark red blood from the female tribute of district one. But you knew that there wasn’t only her blood on your hands, blood of the other tributes you killed but also the ones she killed. In the end you had the blood of every dead tribute on your hands and suddenly you wished you could go back and tell him you couldn’t do it.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of the 68th Hunger Games-”, they announce your name loud and clear but the only thing you can see is the blood, nothing else is making sense.

A helicopter sound makes you aware that you are still in the same spot as when you gave the female tribute the final blow and you look at her. The blond hair along her shoulder is covered in blood and her eyes are wide open, wounds litter her body just like yours, but she is dead, and you’re alive.

The strategy had been simple, entering the usual career pact and staying around for as long as needed, your district partner had died quite early and that had left you more defenseless in their eyes. You had found some poisonous plants and had decided to use them when cooking dinner, three careers died. The only survivor was the girl from one, but you hadn’t known that until the evening.

The rest of the games were a blur of killing people and nearly dying but somehow you made it, you had just won the Hunger Games. It should be a pride, that is why your parents had set you up at the academy in district four, and yet the only thing you felt was disgust.

If someone had to ask you if it was worth it winning the Hunger Games, you would tell them that it wasn’t. Not when you felt like you couldn’t breathe without seeing their faces, their pleading eyes to not kill them.

Someone helps you up the helicopter and you don’t what happens around you; voices are screaming everywhere, and people try to take the blood of your hand, but it seems difficult.

It had dried up on your skin, under your fingernails leaving a trace that even if they took it off of you, you would still remember it on your hands.

The door opens up as you leave the helicopter, not sure how you are even able to see or make your feet move but one voice manages to break through the daze.

“Hey! Hey!”, Finnick is looking at you with wide eyes, worry can be seen in them, but you aren’t able to read them like before. Too busy trying to wrap your head around all of the bodies that will be returned to their parents because of you.

Your knees buckle and you nearly fall to the ground before a panicked Finnick manages to catch you.

“Listen to me.”, his voice says clearly and after a moment you nod slowly.

“They are going to take you under, to heal your wounds and everything and after that we’ll talk. Alright?”, his tone is pleading, like he is willing you too go along with the plan so you just nod, just wanting everything to stop turning around in your mind.

A doctor comes to you, and you don’t hear what he is saying, looking at Finnick’s shoulder but you feel something puncturing your skin and you feel drowsy before falling on Finnick.

Everything is a blur when you wake up, the smell of hospital makes his way to your nose, and you try not to feel sick. You start moving your fingers before looking at your arm in surprise, the last time you had seen your arm it was open due to a knife wound but now it looked perfect. All the scars that you had during your childhood seemed to have been taken off your skin.

“They take off every scar you’ve ever had to make you look perfect as the winner.”, a soft voice says next to you, and you turn to see Finnick there.

“Hi.”, you manage to croak out and your mentor smiles at your attempt.

“Hi yourself. Here drink something and try to eat.”, he says and after giving you a glass of water and helping you drink it you turn towards a small plate of food, a frown appearing at the sight of it.

“It might look lite it’s nothing right now, but your stomach got smaller because of the games so you won’t be able to eat much.”, Finnick says after chuckling and you slowly start to eat, quickly feeling like your stomach is full and not being able to eat the rest like he had said.

“How are you feeling?”, he asks after a moment, looking unsure at the question.

“I don’t know.”, and it’s true, deep down you don’t know how you are feeling.

“I wanted to win, because it’s what I’ve been taught to do but the moment I won I felt like it wasn’t worth it at all.”, he nods at your words and looks at you sadly.

“it’s not going to be easy after the games, but I know you can do it.”, he tells you and you know he isn’t going to tell you everything just yet, so you sit back down.

“How do you sleep at night?”, you can’t help but ask after a moment, memories of the games coming back around, and you don’t know how you are going to survive the nights full of them.

“By trying, even though there will be nightmares I still try to sleep and sometimes it works but sometimes it doesn’t. Talking to people helps you but only for so long.”, you know he is trying to be honest with you and even though it hurts you can’t help but be grateful.

“I know what you feel like right now and I can’t tell you that every day will be easy, but I can tell you that you are not alone. You have your parents, Mags, the other victors and me.”, he whispers the last words a bit later and you turn to look at him.

“I think I realized that I cared more for you then I thought I did.”, you whisper and Finnick smiles softly at your answer.

“I did too. Seeing you in there was hell.”, he whispers back, and you feel emotional at his words, not knowing if it’s because of the lack of sleep or the drugs.

“You mean so much to me that it’s scary.”, he says after a few minutes while chuckling, looking at his feet with a smile.

“Why is it scary?”, you ask him, wanting to know what was holding him back.

“Because it’s the things we love the most that destroy us. Or so I’ve been told.”, he says, and you can’t help but feel happiness bloom in your chest at the words love.

“Love is dangerous, but there is more to life than staying safe.”, you tell him after a moment, and he chuckles at your words before taking your hand.

“I guess it’s time I’m the brave one in here.”, you smile softly at him while looking at him and taking your time of noting every detail.

“You’ve always been brave, just in your own way.”, Finnick squeezes your hand, and you squeeze it back.

The two of you stay there, holding each other’s hands while talking about anything you can talk about, not wanting to think about what’s to come. You don’t know what you are just yet, just that the two of you love each other and for the moment that’s enough.

And although there is darkness to come and darkness in the memories it would show you with time just how important Finnick will always be to you.

#hunger games fanfiction #hunger games finnick #the hunger games #thg finnick #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x you #finnick odair

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buckleysbitch · 5 months

Note

Maybe something about how After hazel fights the beefy guy (ew I forgot his name lol) girlfriend!reader is crying and picking Hazel up and helping her recover 🥹🥹 thank you!!

“and thank you for attending this years pep rally!”

everything is a blur. one second josie is holding you back from the fight, and another you’re tripping over the bleachers, hot tears bleeding down your face, shoving through the stampede of people towards your girlfriends lethargic body.

“hazel? hazel…come on. you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay….” you plead over her limp, gashed up body. her fluffy brunette mane is drenched in crimson blood, and you could’ve sworn that she needed ambulance. just as you’re about to crouch down to her, you feel a hand on your shoulder.

“dude, i’m so sorry- i- i didnt-“

“pj.” you whip around, swatting her hand away from you aggressively. you never liked the idea of hazel joining the club in the first place, but the small cuts and bruises you tended to when you picked her up from school were manageable. this was a whole different level. taking a step forward, knuckles turning white with rage, your eyes meet hers centimeters away. “stay the fuck away.” you seethe, pushing her away. you consider just beating the fuck out of her for a moment for what she did to your sweet girlfriend, until a weak, husky voice materializes behind you. instinctively, your stature softens, collapsing down to the floor next to her small frame.

“haze…it’s alright.” her eyes flutter open weakly, and she coughs up a bit of blood. isabel runs to grab her cardigan, and hands it to you to clean the blood up. dabbing the silky cloth across her beaten up face, everything else melts away. she is your entire world. no, your universe. you brush her hair out of her eyes to assess the damage, and even though she put up a good fight, he beat the fuck out of her. it’s even worse up close; both nostrils are gushing blood, a busted lip, and a positively broken nose.

as you’re comforting her barely conscious body, brittany sprints back in, with all of the first aid she could grab from the nurses office (she knows where everything is because of how many times she gets kicked in the face during cheer). the three of you make quick work to clean her up the best you could, and as you’re rubbing the last piece of gauze over her swollen nose, she finally tries to speak.

“h-hey…” she whimpers, half chuckling.

“what’s so funny, haze? you just got the shit beat out of you!”

“oh you’re just…you’re really pretty…at this angle.” she groans.

“haze…” forcing a half smile through your tears, “you know you didn’t have to do that, right?”

“yeah i just, i don’t know…i thought i was fighting pj and-“

“wait, what?”

pjs unsavory mumbles about “getting a room” come into earshot, but you attempt to drown it out. you take hazels black and blue painted knuckles, and heave her up to her feet, catching her full body weight, head securely placed in the crook of your neck. while rubbing her back and cooing over her, you feel pjs glares stabbing into your soul. with brittany, the both of you take each of hazels arms and start to walk her limping frame out of the gym doors and to the car, while pj and josie gawk at your girlfriend. you signal to isabel to take over for you for a moment, and you storm up to the two girls. “you two fuck with her again, i fuck with you. and trust me, you’ll want the ambulance on speed dial, got it?” neither of them can say a word, just gulp and scurry off, muttering to each other about whatever bullshit they’re gonna try next to save their sorry asses.

isabel and brittany help to buckle hazel in the passenger seat of the car, and they make you swear to text with any updates. the door shuts, and hazel immediately just starts bawling, tears mixed with blood beating down onto her shirt.

“i know, i know….it’s okay honey.” you kiss her forehead, not caring about the sticky blood that seeped into her hair. “how about this, let’s go to the doctor, get you all checked out, then go back to my place and i’ll make us dinner?” she nods, and wipes her tears with her sleeve.

“you have no idea how much i love you…”

“i love you most, hazel.”

#YALL ARE MAKING ME SO GAY #hazel callahan brainrot #hazel callahan blurb #hazel callahan headcanons #hazel callahan fanfiction #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan #hazel bottoms #taking reqs #taking requests

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youunravelme · 1 year

Text

to all the girls you've loved before part 1

author's note: hi! remember that time i wrote jack fics? well i'm branching out, so BUCKLE UP BABY. it should be said that this will be multiple parts, i don't know how many though so again, buckle up. also i'm pretending the trade never happened

pairing: single dad!mat barzal x reader

summary: being a nanny for rich people was probably the worst thing that ever happened to you, until you started working for mat.

warnings: children, rich people, mentions of absent parent

mat barzal. nearly everyone in new york was obsessed with him, you knew him by the awkward elevator interactions when you were leaving work and he was getting home.

you nannied for a family in his building, a mom named erin who was rarely home with two really sweet children, ages 2 and 4.

you didn't even know his name until a few weeks after he moved in when erin mentioned his name in passing conversation, saying something about an nhl player living across the hall.

"i think he's around your age," she said with a sly smirk. "and handsome too, introduced himself to the kids too. such a sweetheart."

"erin," you started. "you can't possibly know he's a sweetheart from one two second interaction."

she tsked and waved you off. "first impressions have a great impact."

you met him when you were getting off the elevator. he had a duffle bag slung over one shoulder and wore a suit, his hair was wet and strewn about in every direction. you were in a pair of sweats to combat the cold.

he mumbled a small hey and made a pathetic excuse for a smile as he waited for you to get off the elevator.

everything you knew about him, you gleaned involuntarily. he must suck at cooking given the amount of times the smoke detector would go off in his place, you could hear the beeping through the walls. and his lack of cooking skills took shape in the trash bags filled with take out boxes that he loudly dumped in the trash chute. you even knew he had a best friend named "tito" from the shouting that erupted every time said friend came over.

you thought nothing of him aside from the mild annoyance at his loud noises.

it wasn't until the fall came and the two year old turned three (and therefore went off to preschool) that things changed.

you'd just settled into your pajamas when erin called asking you to come over.

"is everything alright?" you asked.

"you remember mat?"

"hardly."

she laughed through the phone, though it sounded a little strained. "can you come over? he's found himself in a bit of a situation."

you paused. "what kind of situation?"

spoiler alert: it was an eight month old baby girl kind of situation.

mat was sitting on erin's couch while the baby, whose name was apparently ella, snoozed away in the pack and play when you walked in.

erin explained the situation as you took a seat. something about a fling he had that resulted in a pregnancy (obviously) and the mom decided parenting just wasn't for her so she dropped the baby off with mat and has blocked him on all forms of communication.

erin leant some things like a pack and play for ella to sleep in until he got a crib. but he didn't need that as much as he needed you.

a nanny.

"i know you already have a job, but i can pay well and pay you more for watching all three kids when you have them," mat begged. "i know i have late games so it would require late nights but you can sleep in the guest room if you'd like and i might be gone for a week at a time, but you can invite friends over to hang out and--"

you held up a hand. listening to the man beg and plead for your help was almost heartbreaking. "i'll do it."

he sat back. "what, really?"

you furrowed your brows. "is that a problem?"

mat shook his head. "no! sorry, i was just surprised you'd agree so quickly.

"well, it's not like it would interfere with my time with erin's girls. i could watch your baby during the day and take her to pick up the girls from school and keep ella until you get back."

he still looked unsure. "i work late nights sometimes, is that a problem?"

you thought about the fact your schedule has been empty for the past few months, that the only reason you leave your shitty apartment was because erin needed you to nanny. "i think i can manage."

he smiled for the first time that evening, looking almost near tears. "thank you thank you thank you," he said.

you nodded, a little overwhelmed by his sudden change in demeanor. "when do i start?"

day one

you hesitantly walked into mat's big ass apartment to the sound of a screaming baby.

it was six in the morning.

mat ran into the living room, hair askew, clothes wrinkled, but his baby was in a clean set of pajamas with tears running down her face.

"i don't know what's wrong," he said frantically. "she woke up and i changed her diaper but she's still crying."

you dropped your bag on the floor and made your way over to him, taking ella out of his arms and immediately bouncing her in your own. "she's probably hungry," you guessed.

"i tried that! i put the bottle in the microwave but when i gave it to her she started crying harder and--"

"wait," you stopped him. "you put the bottle in the microwave?" he nodded. "with the formula?" he nodded again. "mat, you can't do that. heat the water separately and then add the formula. and then test it on your wrist to make sure it's the right temperature." you walked into the kitchen and prepared the bottle the right way, showing mat how to do it as you went.

when all was said and done, you placed the new bottle in ella's mouth and watched as she took it without issue.

mat's shoulders sagged in relief. "you're a miracle worker."

you gave him a sheepish smile. "you can go get ready, mat. i've got her from here." he nodded and hurried towards what you assumed was his bedroom while you walked over to the couch to sit down.

ella was a cute baby, you'd give her that. no doubt taking after her father. she looked at you with wide eyes as she drank her bottle, her irises never left your face. it would've been unnerving if she had been an adult.

mat came out a little less frazzled ten minutes later. ella had finished her bottle at that point and the both of you were laid on the floor doing tummy time.

"what's that?" he pointed to the two of you once he stopped running his hands through his hair.

"what's what?"

"what's that you're doing?" he gestured again before placing his hands on his hips.

"tummy time," you smiled. "it helps build her neck muscles. also helps prevent flat spots on the back of her head."

you didn't like to judge people for their skin color, because it's racist, but you didn't think it was possible for mat to be paler until you spoke.

"she could get flat spots?"

you hung your head as ella babbled to herself.

it was going to be a long employment.

day ten

you'd finally gotten mat on a rhythm, he looked a little less scared with every day that you came over.

but today was different.

he was going on an eight day roadie which meant you would be watching her overnight several nights in a row (on top of erin's kids).

you'd done much harder jobs before, so you weren't nervous about the time you spent with ella, it was more so you feared all the confidence you built in the week or so you'd worked for mat would disappear when he came back and realized he had an eighteen year commitment waiting at home for him.

"you have my number, right?" he asked even though you got it the night you accepted the position.

"yes, mat," you said instead.

"and you'll text me if anything goes wrong?"

you nodded. you bounced ella on your hip and held her hand up. "bye dada," you said for her, smiling as she did.

mat's bags were stationed by the front door, but he made no move towards them. he stayed planted in front of you, but his hands fidgeted.

"can i--" he cleared his throat. "can i hold her?"

"of course!" you didn't hesitate to pass her off to mat, who handled her like precious cargo, but was still a little unsure about the entire situation.

once she was settled, he took his eyes off her to look at you. "you know where the guest room is, right?" you nodded. "right, just make yourself at home. i stocked the fridge, i have just about every streaming service, so you should be fine." he paused. "but if you aren't--"

"mat--"

"--you can just text me if you need anything, alright?" he turned his head to focus on ella who took her hands to slap to his cheeks. "and you be good, okay baby?" his voice pitched higher right before he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

you checked your watch to keep yourself from intruding on what felt like a special moment. "mat," you started. "you should get going before you're late."

he nodded and pressed one last kiss to the top of ella's head before passing her back to you. "i'll facetime you when i get to the hotel, okay? so i can tell her goodnight?"

you nodded and left out the part that she would probably be asleep because honestly, you weren't expecting him to remember.

"alright," he said, wiping his hands on his pants before making his way to the front door where his bags sat. "i'll see you in a week."

"bye bye dada," you said in a high squeaky voice, using ella's hand to wave just like before.

he smiled before walking out the door and locking it behind him.

day fourteen

it wasn't until halfway through mat's roadie that weariness settled in. you were constantly surrounded by children, which normally wouldn't be an issue, but between ella and erin's two kids, you were practically a full time single parent.

which sucked because it wasn't even like you got laid to even create this issue.

mat, though, true to his word, facetimed every night he possibly could. he smiled wide every time he saw ella's face and while she was confused at how your phone worked, ella smiled and laughed at the sound of her father's voice.

"what have you been up to?" he asked one evening. you were spoon feeding ella sweet potato puree for dinner while he was laying in bed in his hotel room.

"nothing really, we went to the park today, she was really happy to see a few dogs."

mat grumbled. "certainly didn't get that from me."

you couldn't help it, you smiled at his pout.

"is that--" he guffawed. "did i make you smile?"

you rolled your eyes. "i'm sure i've smiled at you before."

"you haven't!"

"and i don't blame you!" another voice piped in. "he's not funny."

when mat saw the look on your face, he sighed. "that's tito," he said like that explained everything.

"nice to meet you, tito!" you called.

"is that your nanny?" you heard him call. "can i say hi to ella?"

mat rolled his eyes but moved the camera to show you a good looking man lounging in the other bed. he was handsome in a way that mat wasn't. you couldn't really compare one to the other in the same way you couldn't compare an apple to quantum physics.

"ella can you say hi?" you asked in a small voice. ella spared a single glance to camera before screaming. you laughed before spoon feeding her more puree. "sorry," you started. "she does that sometimes."

tito looked terrified but covered it up quickly when mat cleared his throat. "she just screams randomly?"

you shrugged. "usually when she's excited or frustrated."

tito laid back in his bed and started scrolling on his phone. "babies, man."

mat came back into view. his head rested back on his pillow as he held the camera above his face. "are you both doing okay?"

you opened your mouth to reply but tito cut him off.

"you don't need to ask her that everyday!" he said.

you couldn't see what he did, but judging by the shaking of the camera and the cackle that escaped tito's lips, you'd give your left leg and say he flipped his best friend off.

you took your eyes off the camera to look at ella who was using her puree covered hands to rub at her eyes. you put your phone down and grabbed a napkin to immediately start wiping her face and hands.

"is everything okay?" mat asked. "did i lose you?"

"just had to put the phone down to clean her up. she's getting sleepy." you pulled ella out of her high chair, resolving to clean it up later, and picked your phone up.

mat's face lit back up when ella came into view. "hi baby girl," he smiled. "are you getting ready to go to bed?"

ella rested her head on your shoulder and yawned.

"well, i'll let you two go," mat sighed. "i love you, ella bean." he directed his gaze to you. "same time tomorrow?"

"i'll let you know if anything changes."

"night."

"night, mat."

he ended the call and left you to take ella to bed.

day twenty-seven

nearly a month into working for mat and everything was going great. ella had gotten used to you which meant she knew you would come back when you left the room. the first two weeks, she cried every time you left. and if you had to guess, it probably had something to do with how her mother treated her.

and mat, well, he was embracing the father role well enough for someone who thought he was an unattached bachelor not even a month ago.

as far as you go, you were still getting used to the workload of erin's kids and ella. and while you would never breathe a word of it to anyone, you preferred ella over erin's kids.

your roommate and your boyfriend took some time to adjust to your new hours, but your roommate was excited when you contributed more to groceries and apartment needs. as far as your boyfriend went, he was still getting used to the idea of you being gone all day and sometimes even weekends, but even he admitted ella was the cutest baby he'd ever seen.

you were plating yogurt and some smashed peaches for her morning snack while holding her on your hip when mat walked in the kitchen, hair wet from a shower.

"hey," he said. "how is she?"

at the sound of his voice, ella turned in your arms and made a grabby motion for him. "you tell me," you said, handing her off to him. almost immediately, ella rested her head in the crook of his neck and popped a thumb in her mouth.

a smile crossed his face at the way ella fit so perfectly into the lines of his body.

"you're good at this," you remarked.

he laughed. "i have no idea what i'm doing."

"does anyone?"

"you seem to have it figured out."

the laugh was out of your mouth before you could stop it. "well then, let me go audition for broadway. i'm a better actress than i thought."

neither of you said a word, but you continued to stare at each other until his phone dinged. mat shifted ella around until he could fish his phone out of his pocket. "oh it's my mom." he scrolled through the texts when a figurative lightbulb appeared over his head.

"what?" you asked.

"my family is coming into town to meet ella next week so that might affect the hours you have." a flash of panic must've been present on your face because he quickly spoke again. "but your pay will still be the same! i don't want you to worry about that at all. i might still need you throughout the week."

"okay!" you smiled before moving ella's morning snack to her high chair. mat peeled her off of him and placed her in the seat before taking the chair next to hers.

his phone dinged again.

"oh," he said.

"what is it?"

"my mom wants to meet you."

"oh."

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl blurb

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ft-3racha · 6 months

Text

against the law (ft. seo changbin)

pairing: seo changbin (skz) x gn reader

warnings: smut (!!), e2l (kinda??), public (but secluded) sex, bondage with a belt, clear d/s dynamics, oral (m rec), face fucking, dirty talking, choking, gagging, degradation (reader gets called slut, whore, fucktoy), praise (reader gets called good, baby etc.), changbin has a sir kink, scratching, slight dumbification and breeding kink if you squint, changbin in glasses needs a warning by itself

author‘s note: here is my first piece of fiction about one of the best rappers/producers/lyricists, seo changbin of stray kids! i really hope you like it! i tried to keep it as gender inclusive as possible by not mentioning anything about the body, so anyone would be able to imagine themselves in reader‘s place.

wc: 4,7k

_________________

studying law was never the main priority you set for yourself in high school. neither was graduating university as one of the top students and getting job requests thrown at you left, right and center; but here you were, almost a year into working at one of the best law firms in your city.

at first, your new colleagues were suspicious: you were young, barely had any knowledge about life and what being a lawyer would mean- or so they thought. within the first couple of days you were able to proof them wrong and quickly earned their respect. most of the team consisted of men in their 40s; all of them wealthy, very well known, highly praised lawyers, who worked on difficult cases all over the country.

there was only a handful of people close to your age, but you didn‘t mind that most your colleagues were double your age: it was more so a challenge to you.

you got along with all of them pretty well. except for one: seo changbin. every time you heard someone calling his name, you would feel an uncomfortable chill creep up your spine and your face scrunch in displeasure. this man was the epitome of an arrogant asshole: he was in his late twenties, about two years older than you, yet somehow you felt like he had the mind of a 14-year old teenage boy; with his constant bragging, his inappropriate commentaries and ridiculous laughter you felt more like you were talking to a middle schooler than to one of your teammates.

it was another day at the office, and you flattened out the back of your bottom attire before sitting down, placing your iced americano right next to your computer on your desk, just like you did every morning. your jacket was hung loosely over the back of the chair alongside your bag, the silver buckle on it lightly reflecting in the sunlight that shone through the window just right, warming your back slightly. „alright, let‘s get to it“, you mumbled to yourself, slowly lifting the cup to your lips and letting the cool liquid hit your mouth through the straw. you adored a good iced americano in the morning, occasionally bringing some for jisung as well, just like you did this morning. han jisung was one of the other co-workers around your age, and, benefitting to you, your assigned office-partner. at first you were scared about sharing the office with another person, but as soon as you found out it would be jisung, you were rather excited than scared. and to say you guys hit it off from the start was an understatement; turns out you guys had so much in common, that now, almost a year later, you were best friends and couldn’t imagine life without one another.

almost half an hour into working on your current case jisung stumbled through the door, his grey hair sitting on his head messily, the tie around his neck holding on for dear life and his button-up buttoned the wrong way. „i‘m so fucking sorry“, he started apologizing, „i absolutely did not hear my alarm this morning.“ „no worries, sungie“, you replied, a sly smile gracing your features, „i bet minho kicked your ass out of bed, huh?“ jisung sat down, his chubby cheeks covered in a rosy tint; it was not a secret to you that jisung was absolutely head over heels for lee minho, the main receptionist you walked past before heading into the office space every morning. well, almost every morning. „yeah, as soon as he noticed that we both slept in he basically ran for his damn life and dragged me with him“, jisung rambled before taking a big sip from his americano and slowly unpacking his files. „i left him an americano upfront as well.“ your gesture had jisung looking at you in adoration, his eyes throwing thank you‘s and kisses in your direction. „but, hanji, you guys really need to talk about keeping this whole situation a secret. i still don‘t get why you do that to yourself.“ your shift in topic caused jisung to drop his gaze as he began fidgeting with his hands: „i know, and we want to tell everyone. guess we‘re both just scared about what they will say.“ „if those old men around here say shit, then i‘m just gonna take my shoes and shove them up their a-“ „say shit about what?“, a certain voice made you freeze mid sentence and shift your gaze to the door: there stood changbin in all his annoying glory, pushing his black, thick framed glasses up the bridge of his nose before stepping into your office space without asking for it. „and who said you could come in?“, you confronted him, glaring right into his brown orbs. „i did, sweetheart“, he answered, dragging out the nickname for you nonchalantly. „didn‘t i tell you…like, a million times, not to call me that?“ he left this question unanswered, just shrugging his bulky, broad shoulders and slowly making his way over to your desk with long steps. „carter said that you and i should work on your murder case together.“ „i don‘t fucking think so, currently working on it with jisung“, you replied, crossing your arms over your chest and meeting his eyes once again. „that‘s weird, cause he told me that jisung is working on another case and asked me to help you.“ involuntarily, your cheeks turned a shade of red, embarrassment clouding your mind about the fact seo changbin caught you lying to his face. the truth was simple, yet hard: you‘d rather drown your face in a bucket of bleach than work with him on one of the most important cases of your entire career. „alright“, you admitted through gritted teeth, „you caught me. i‘m working on it alone, and it‘s gonna stay that way. i will never work on a case with you, idiot, and i think i made that pretty clear before.“ thats true, and he knew it. there had been multiple encounters in the past where changbin tried working with you, asked you out or shamelessly flirted with you (at least thats what jisung said; to you, it was just annoying bickering), but you declined him every time: your guess being that he was never rejected by anyone in his life, hencewhy his cocky behaviorism standing loud and proud.

he threw his hands up in defence, his big hands tall in the air as he rose his eyebrows and cocked a smile. „chill out, sweetheart. can‘t force you to work with me after all. just thought i‘d ask, to benefit the case, you know.“ he took his hands back down and scratched his left bicep with his right hand. that gesture made you take notice of the way he had rolled up the sleeves of his white button up, the cuffs meeting his elbows. the silky material clung deliciously tight onto his very defined, muscular upper arms, and his right triceps flexed with every move that he made. to say this man was attractive was an understatement. and you were aware of that. you were very much aware of how you wanted to run your hands through his fluffy, black locks every time they were as beautifully messy as they were on said day; it made him look like he got straight up and out of bed like this, and lord knows he probably did. seo motherfucking changbin was just as effortlessly handsome as one could be. and hot. oh, so hot. he was broad, back shaped like a triangle with muscles visible wherever you apprechiated them to be. but they didn‘t just look pretty; this man was strong. he could probably split you in half without any effort, and he would be perfectly fine.

to sum it up: he was exactly your type. if it wouldn‘t be for that goddamn ego. so, to sum it up correctly: he would be exactly your type. „you wanna see what‘s underneath or do you just wanna keep staring like that?“ a simple question and a smirk well known to you brought you back to reality, so you quickly shook your head and went back to resume with your work. you just stared at seo changbin, and you don‘t know for how long exactly. „all right, i‘m gonna go. you know where to find me“, the black-haired pack of muscles with an unnecessarily loud mouth said before leaving, turning around in the doorway to send quick goodbyes to han and a wink your way before disappearing completely. you let out a sigh of frustration before resuming your work, ignoring jisungs smile and questioning looks.

„alright, i‘ll see you later tonight, right?“, jisung asked, holding the door open for you to step out into the mild late afternoon breeze. your encounter with changbin was hours ago, yet it was still on your mind the whole day. you despised that guy and his awfully cocky behavior. and the way he thinks he can just swoon everyone off of their feet. and how he looks so fucking good. „yeah“, you replied, „i‘ll meet you back here at 9?“ „sure thing.“ with that, jisung hugged you before your ways parted. your apartment complex was only a couple blocks, and an approximately 15 minute walk, away from work, which you gladly took every day to prepare your mind for work and get your mind off of it afterwards.

15 minutes later you opened up the door to your little home before closing it behind you immediately, leaving your shoes, jacket and bag at the door. right off the bet, you were greeted by your cat, which you sat down with on your couch for a couple of minutes. you still don‘t know why you agreed to meet jisung back at the office at 9, because you had been dreading this exact gathering for weeks: your first annual office party. apparently it’s been a thing at the company for years now, to dress nicely and have some drinks together with some very important guests; investors, sponsors, clients from important companies and even ceo‘s from rivaling law firms would be there to celebrate and talk about…whatever it is that people talk about at those events. jisung asked you to go to get drunk with him, and you happily agreed because of the free alcohol, completely forgetting the formal attire and circumstances. „well, i already agreed. might as well get ready soon“, you mumbled to yourself before getting up to cook. after eating your food, you took a nice, long shower and sat down at your desk to finish up your hair and face before putting on the outfit you bought especially for this occasion. thid kind of attire was not out of your ordinary, yet you never owned a costume formal enough for events like this. this particular one, however, immediately caught your eye one day while you were out with han: it was a deep shade of burgundy made out of beautiful material, furthermore sitting just right where you needed it to: it was simple, yet elegant and beautiful. you were confident that this specific outfit would make anyone feel as nice as they possibly could, thats why you were absolutely stoked to get ready, eventho it was for a cause you feel like you could barely ever be ready for.

four hours later, and two rounds in already, you found yourself on the highest floor of the building. the big meeting area was decorated nicely for the occasion, and even a bar had been set up, soft music playing in the background while people were talking about taxes, work and the latest gossip. you, jisung and minho stood gathered around a small table, each of you a glass of champagne in your hand. „i‘m telling you, this man is obsessed with his cats“, jisung says while pointing at minho, his cheeks and nose already a little red from the alcohol. han jisung can‘t handle his alcoholic beverages. „that has been known forever, sungie“, minho replied for you while you just nodded in agreement, your eyes scanning the room to look for nobody in particular. at least that‘s what you were trying to tell yourself, but ever since this morning you couldn’t stop thinking about him and the fact that he‘s probably built like a fucking greek god. you despised that man for being so ridiculously sexy.

you kept on scanning a room, until your eyes met his. and you swore he was eating you up with his stare. but so were you. the black curls on his head messy as ever, the glasses adorning his face as always. his perfect figure was hidden behind a (probably tailored) black suit, a matching tie set around his neck and laying on top of a fresh white button up. he never wears ties, always refuses them because it makes him look „stuck up“. fuck him for making it seem like he‘s so different than anyone else for not wearing a tie.

on the other hand, seeing him with one on is a welcome change. he was talking to a couple of people that looked very important, sharing laughter here and there, answering questions while sipping on a beer. the situation itself seemed perfectly normal, at least to the people usually attending social gatherings like this one, except for the fact that he never lifted his gaze off of you, yet nobody seemed to mind. it was quite common for people to not look at each other, because nobody actually gave a shit in your industry. jisung and minho were so caught up in their own conversation that not even these two noticed the staring contest that was happening right in front of them. suddenly the mood switched, and changbin let his gaze wander. over your nicely done hair, over your glowing face, over your body. and by the way his eyes seemed to darken, you could tell that he liked what he saw. neither you nor changbin dared to drag the attention away from one another, too caught up in the moment to realize where you were: all that mattered was you two. and you were not mad about it. changbin slowly lifted his glass to his lips, nonchalantly answering questions here and there, slowly licking his lips after every sip he took. he knew exactly what he was doing, and he was fucking good at it. you felt like your blood was boiling inside of you, warmth spreading throughout your entire body. as much as you hated him, you wanted him. so badly. and, maybe just this once, you could forget about your principles.

apparently changbin felt the heat between you two, cause he began to loosen up his tie, and unbuttoned the first button of his shirt. your breath hitched and you involuntarily clenched your thighs together: you didn’t know that it was possible, but changbin just got ten times hotter.

the small smirk on his lips drove you crazy, your teeth slowly sinking into your bottom lip to provide any pathetic sounds from slipping accidentally. seo changbin made it difficult for you to stay calm on a daily basis already; on this particular evening tho, he did so for a completely different reason. before he excused himself and took one of the doorways out, he shot you a wink. not even a minute later you felt your phone vibrate, signaling you that you got a message.

i always wanted to fuck you on your desk

your brain short-circuited, and before you could even excuse yourself, your feet carried you to the elevator and down to your office. slowly, you opened the door, the whole room engulfed in nothing but the pale city lights and nervousness. with no sight of changbin, you stepped further into the room, about to turn on the light, when a hand on your wrist and the sound of the door shutting and locking stopped you from doing so. „hey darling“, a familiar voice rasped into your ear, before he pressed you against the door with a little, but not too much, aggression. „hi changbin“, was all you could answer, gulping down a lump in your throat, before your eyes finally adjusted to the dark and you could see his features: the smug grin left his face, and was now replaced by nothing but pure lust. „what are you doing here?“ oh, so he wants to play dumb. „you texted me something about my desk“, you replied, your gaze flickering down to his plump lips. one of his hands found his way to your chin, which he lifted up slowly, forcing your gaze to meet his once again. sweet, sweet torture. „really? what did i say?“ „that you wanted to fuck me on it.“ your direct answer made him chuckle darkly, his hand wandering from your chin down and finding your hips, where he lazily rested his hands. „i think i did say that, didn‘t i? and what do you think of that?“ you didn‘t know an answer to his question, so you simply shrugged as good as you could. „i need your consent, sweet thing. otherwise i will not touch you“, he stated, not moving an inch and looking at you. your next move determined whether or not the relationship between you guys changed or if it stayed exactly the same: him shamelessly flirting on a daily and you being overly annoyed by his poor excuses of pick-up lines he threw at you before going back to your usual back and forth until one of you guys had enough. but it already changed, so there‘s nothing left to lose, and probably the best fuck of your entire life to win. your hands slowly crept up his body, meeting each other behind his head, tangling in his hair. with glossy eyes and barely above a whisper, you threw all of your principles overboard and whispered: „please.“

without another word, he tightened his grip on your waist, cupped your face with one hand and let your lips meet in a heated kiss. his lips moved against yours with force, the kiss messy and sloppy. it was perfect.

as if it was nothing, he picked you up, your legs wrapping around him in one swift motion. „ you look incredible tonight“, he almost growled against your neck, before he started lingering it with kisses. you moaned softly, happy that there was not a soul in this part of the building. changbin carried you over to your desk and placed you down. there was nothing to throw off of it, like in those cliché movie scenes before they make out in an office: you always left your desk perfectly clean, apart from your computer. your hands tugged on his hair when he sucked on the right spots, occasionally earning a deep animalistic growl from him. „you have no idea how often i thought about fucking you right here.“ the thought alone made you go feral: changbin fucking himself to the thought of you. „and what did you do when you thought about me?“, you asked, wanting him to keep talking to you. „you really wanna know? i fucked my fist imagining it was your mouth taking my cock so fucking deep, gagging on it, or me filling you up to the brim.“ while he said all of those sinful things, he kept kissing your neck, resting his hands on your thigh or your waist while pressing his lower half into you. you could feel him growing harder with every passing second. involuntarily, you started rutting your hips against him in search for some kind of friction. „look at you“, he said lowly, looking down at you, „you‘re so fucking needy. can‘t wait for my cock anymore, huh? are you that desperate to get fucked? little slut.“ you moaned louder, and he pressed his palm against your lips in order to shut you up. „oh, someone likes being degraded“, he noticed, the blush on your face furiously growing as he took away the hand he placed on your mouth. „do you?“ all you could do is nod in submission: his presence was so dominating, but in the best way possible. „now tell me: do you want me to take of your clothes or fuck you in them so you remember me whenever you look at them?“ his question left no room for a different answer than the second one. „fuck me in them“ „then ask nicely“, he retorted, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, taking off his tie and everything else he wore uptop in one swift motion. and holy shit, his upper body looked just as broad and delicious as you imagined it to be. „please, sir, take me in my clothes, so i remember you whenever i look at them.“ that goddamm nickname made him let out another animalistic sound, before unbuckling his belt and taking it off, carefully placing it to the side. you gave yourself a mental check up to keep that name for him. „on your knees, i‘m gonna put that smart mouth of yours to good fucking use.“ in one swift motion you moved from the desk down on your knees, watching as he pulled down his zipper, dragging the pants and boxer down with it. and then he stood, in all his glory, and you swore you had to be careful not to salivate. his length was nice; not overly huge, definately not small either. but he was girthy for sure. his tip was leaking, signaling you how ready he was for you to take him wherever he wanted you to. „open up, and tap my thigh three times when it‘s getting too much for you. understood?“ „yes, sir“, you responded with obedience, his gaze meeting yours. „such an obedient baby, so good to me.“ the praise was doing it for you as well. he grabbed your hair before shoving his length past your lips and bottoming back out. changbin moaned at the feeling of your warm mouth around him, and you swore you never heard a more beautiful sound leave his pink lips, bevor he slowly started moving in and out of your mouth, giving you more and more of him with each thrust. the sight alone turned you on to a maximum: changbin using you, being so high on the pleasure your mouth is giving him, made you shiver in anticipation. you didn‘t mind him using you like a personal fucktoy whatsoever, in fact it excited you even more.

he continued to fuck your face until you gagged on him, saliva covering his cock and tears brimming your eyes, threatening to spill. changbin loved seeing you in this fucked out stage, submitting to him without hesitation. „you look so fucking good, taking my cock so fucking good like that. my personal little slut, shit“, he moaned, before taking his cock out completely. „get up, i don‘t wanna cum like that. wanna cum inside of you.“ finally. „do you want me to use a condom?“, he asked before lifting you back up onto the desk. „no, sir. please. i need you so bad. wanna feel all of you inside me“, you answered, resting a hand on his chest. he took it away, locking a hand around your wrist before looking in your eyes and asking with seriousness laced in his voice: „who said you could touch me?“

you knew you were fucked as soon as those words left his lips, but never in your life would you have imagined to find yourself lying back down on your office desk with your hand held together by a belt over your head. it was thrilling, exciting. it made your heart beat in your chest like crazy. or maybe it was that god-like man above you about to give you the best dick of your entire life. „you look so fucking good right now, so ready for me“, he mumbled, letting his hands wander up your legs that were spread out for him nicely. obviously he wouldn’t be able to take you completely dressed, so your bottom half was bare at this point, your underwear tossed somewhere in the room only the fabric knew. suddenly you were brought back by the head of his cock rubbing against you, wet from a mixture of your saliva and arousal. without another warning, you felt him stretch you out just right. it was a little painful, but in the best way possible. he also didn‘t give you any time to adjust, setting a steady rhythm from the start. and once he noticed he fucked you just how you liked it, he got faster and faster, drilling into you at an unholy speed. you would practically scream his name at that point, if it weren‘t for changbin shoving two fingers into your mouth, shutting you up, you only being able to moan and whine around his digits. „so fucking hot“, he growled, „taking my cock so fucking well in your tight little hole.“ he took his fingers out of your mouth, demanding you to tell him how good it feels. „so good…so big…“ you weren‘t able to form coherent sentences at that point, he quite literally fucked your brains out. „taking it in your fucking office, on your desk. gonna remember this night forever, how you let me fuck you here, like the little whore that you are“, he slurred between inhumane thrusts, drunk on your walls clenching around him and the thought of you. „wanna touch you, please“, you begged on the verge of tears, overwhelmed by all the pleasure you were feeling. „mark me up“, is all he said, loosening up the belt. you knew exactly what to do, ramming your nails in his back and scratching him to the point where he felt like exploding, the pain mixed with the thought of being marked by you too much.

he could tell you were close, your abused walls convulsing around him and getting tighter with every thrust. he closed a hand around your neck, hammering into you with the last bit of willpower left, barely able to hold back his own orgasm, too engulfed in your warmth. „cum for me, let it all out“, he ordered, and you didn‘t need to be asked twice, spasming and clenching around him immediately as waves of pleasures hit you with so much force that you felt like seeing stars. that‘s all it took for him to follow, your clenching core getting filled by him until every last drop was yours.

both of you needed a moment to come back to reality, yet it hit you pretty quickly: you just had sex with seo changbin. the seo changbin you despised so much. or so you thought.

before you were able to say anything he pulled out, leaving you with an unpleasant feeling of emptiness. you sat up and he immediately took your face in his hands and gave you a kiss. a kiss that was full of so much passion you, once again, felt like passing out. „are you okay?“, was the first thing he said, with genuine concern lacing his voice. „yes, i‘m perfectly fine. just a little sore“, you answered, earning a laugh from him before he nervously started scratching his neck. „listen“, he started, „i meant what i said, not just sexually. i think about you a lot, and i would really like to take you out. i know you don‘t like me, probably for a good reason, but i promise you, i‘m not that bad.“ „i guess i can give you a chance“, you bickered, which caused him to just smile.

next thing you know you woke up in your bed, the memories from last night flooding your head. as you slowly roll over you grabbed your phone, noticing a message from jisung at the top of your screen. „hope you got home safe!! sorry i didn‘t talk to you a lot, but minho kissed me in front of everyone, guess we‘re official now. oh btw, i know you‘re off today, but quick question: why is there a pair of underwear on my fucking chair????“

#kpop fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #seo changbin #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin smut #changbin smut #3racha smut #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz smut #skz changbin

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wisteriaiswriting · 4 months

Note

Hello! This is my very first request so forgive me if my english is bad, but could you do a small little one-shot on what would happen if Liam would have survived the final battle in Fourth Wing, after the reader somehow revived Liam back to life by using her Signet, but she used to much of her energy to the point she collapsed and went into a coma. In the infirmary Liam stays with her through the entire time, not leaving her side as she asleep. Reader wakes up and she sees that Liam is alright. Liam comfort hers and they both confessed their feelings.

𝕃𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖

Words: 724

First Fourth Wing fic, and this is gender neutral as I don't write for female reader.

It was a surprise to live this long, alongside Violet. But you had survived to the Presentation, one of the final moments that decided your fate in life. Luckily enough no dragon had deemed you unworthy on the way past, unluckily it seemed they didn’t see you well enough.

Everyone switched positions to walk back, leaving you at the end. Barely able to see any other people get burnt, not missing the fire though. But this didn’t go both ways. A green dragon steps forward, separating you from the squad. Just light enough the others didn’t notice, continuing onwards.

You froze. There were two outcomes here, and only one had you walking to find your squad. The dragon leaned forwards, leaning down to be face to face, or as close as possible. It didn’t move its face, only their eyes. Taking in your appearance, which it seemed to like as it stepped back into line.

Only then did the others realize what happened, watching as you finally made it over. Liam was the first to know, watching as you were freed from the dragon. Rushing over to pull you into a bone crushing hug, letting you go when you had to tap out.

“Are you okay? It didn’t hurt you right?”

A barrage of questions spilled from him.

“Liam! I’m fine, it wanted a smell.”

That seemed to calm him down enough.

***

“Y/N you’ll be shadow–”

Before they could finish your Dragon [Dragon’s name] had shot off the ground.

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING!?”

“[Dragon’s name] HEY!”

They didn’t give you a response, only flying further from your station. You were at one of the closer ones, only able to buckle down as they flew you further from everyone else. Few times you passed other squads, all yelling at you but you couldn’t hear them.

The flight could’ve been calming but the speed and rush wasn’t helping. But there was something in your mind that felt off, the silence wasn’t natural. Unable to think about it anymore when you realized where they took you.

The others were in a battle, dragons and their riders version Wyverns. Although they had it handled, few were in the air. Instead of turning around or helping them [Dragon’s name] dove to the ground.

Almost sending you flying off when they landed, barely letting you get off before rushing over. When you made it, you saw what happened. Deigh and Liam. It was clear.

A rider without their dragon is dead.

Liam is dead, and it was due to the damned Wyverns.

[Dragon’s name] had huddled closer to Deigh, mourning. While you kneeled next to Liam, pulling his head onto your lap. Tears were quick to start pouring, making sure they hit everyone but him.

Hands brushed through his hair, trying to come to terms with this. Unable to see what was happening, the others only watched, never stepping closer.

You felt weird. Your body was heating up, quickly becoming unbearable. Though you couldn’t leave Liam, so you only cradled him closer. Your tears soaked into his clothing as your vision faded.

Others called out but none made it through your mind. Falling forwards onto Liam, unaware of his movement.

***

When you gain consciousness it’s immediate pain. Every part of your body had cooled down but it left a sore feeling everywhere. A lot more in your shoulder, where your bond mark is.

The feeling of the sheets moving caught your attention. Looking over to see Liam, asleep with his head on the bed. His hand held yours even as he slept.

“Liam…”

Even when you whispered his ears caught it, causing him to shoot up. Before you could say anything else he pulled you into a hug, trying to mind your pain.

“Love, I–”

He choked on his words as tears started. Eventually he calmed down enough to continue.

“Why? Why would you risk your own life for mine!”

“Because I love you! I couldn’t stand seeing you go…”

His mouth opened and shut again but nothing left it. His eyes scanned yours, searching for any hint of a lie but finding none. Suddenly launching forwards, catching your lips with his own.

“You can’t say that after you almost died.”

“I just did, didn’t I?”

“You smartass.”

Soon enough the room was filled with laughter from you two.

#fourth wing x reader #fourth wing x male reader #liam mairi x reader #liam mairi x male reader #wisteria♥

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soulntes · 3 months

Text

THREE : THREESOME <3

ROMANCING PANDORA EVENT

TSU'TEY X OC X SO'LEK

many na'vi have experienced their chance of a lifetime in bonding and mating with their partner they've had set their eyes on. getting to know them on a spiritual and and friendship level to remember their likings and passion to gain a smile and slight touch of their hand on theirs.

to experience the life of youth with love and happiness alongside your mate.

for so'lek, it was different.

a young, well respected warrior's life changed drastically when he lost his entire clan. ever since he didn't want to seek out a potential na'vi for his liking because he swore revenge on his people.

after planning to live alone in the wilderness, one na'vi decided to persuade him to stay. not a na'vi, a dream walker who eywa has chosen to live in her na'vi body.

selena. jake sully's sister.

he highly respects jake but not knowing he had a relative made it more difficult.

the second his eyes laid on her, his heart stopped then it accelerated from her friendly smile and wanted to talk with him. the way she moves differently than other na'vi women, her strong presence before him had his knees buckled, her overwhelming scent filling his nose. the hair style and wardrobe she put on fits her right in with the rest of the na'vi. her slender but built figure is so alluring.

she made him weak. she was the first to have him experience these new things. the first na'vi who gave him an experience.

selena caught him off guard when she hugged him all of a sudden that his tail wagged and his body tensed, "i'm sorry for what happened with your clan. if there's anything you need you can ask jake or you can stay here with the omatikaya. the other clans have decided to stay."

so'lek couldn't speak but he had to so he wouldn't weird her out, "i am alright. i don't need to merge with your clan. i am planning for revenge against the sky people if they return. i must take my leave." he felt guilty and stupid for passing up an opportunity to know more about her.

she nods with a sad expression, "of course. i understand. what's your name?"

his ears perked at the mention of knowing his name, "so'lek."

she smiled more and held his hands, "that's a nice name, so'lek. i hope to see you some day." with a kiss on his cheek, she left him alone with his thoughts as he touched his cheek where she put her lips on. he began to fluster madly at the affection.

the na'vi warrior brushed it off, gathering his things and left to venture off alone into the forest.

that was years ago when he felt a void in his heart and a vacant soul ever since. knowing he'd regret coming back and decide to follow his heart when he found a tree of voices, he returned to find the hidden clan.

many clues and traces passed when he saw a couple of hunters hunting the area and flew up the hallelujah mountains.

upon arriving at the hidden spot of the omatikaya, he was surrounded by them with arrows and guns pointing at him for questioning. he wanted to explain when selena came into view with her brother.

so'lek pointed towards her, "you know me. remember."

selena's ears perked when she heard his voice and stood in front of him with a smile, "i'd known you'd come back, so'lek."

there it was again. that same feeling. his heart began to thumping rapidly and his palms started to sweat. "yes i guess i came for you."

his answer shocked her but she continued to smile, grabbing his hand to pull him somewhere, "i'll show you around."

he didn't know where they were going but he knew by the new scent of hers, she wasn't alone. she was mated with another.

by the time he stayed with the omatikaya, he learned she mated with the infamous and brave warrior that survived a big fall and bullets to his body.

no matter that she was mated and bonded with another, he still desired her and wished to taste her and tsu'tey noticed this.

tsu'tey knows the lust and smell of hormones reeking of this young male na'vi wanting his tanhi. he wants to show this stranger that this woman was his alone but he saw how his mate expressed herself with the young male.

selena talks about him whenever she gets the chance and she was starting to smell like him from showing him around.

his mind went to imagining the possibilities of seeing her get her pussy rammed by another man's cock while looking at him, begging him to put his in. kissing her lips while he fucks her pussy and so'lek wanting to do the same but he can't, her lips are his. rubbing her clit hard while the male fucks her hole just to see her squirt and sucks on her nipple.

tsu'tey decided to bring up the topic of bringing in another person into their relationship and she was surprised since he's hostile and possessive when it came to his mate.

in the end, they agreed to have so'lek in their relationship in a poly and selena couldn't wait.

this is where they are now.

so'lek was sitting with selena sitting on his cock reverse cowgirl with his hands on her thighs, spreading them wide for tsu'tey to admire. tsu'tey went down to put his mouth on her clit to suck on while so'lek fucked her relentlessly because of good she felt when she clenched on him.

"so'lek....oh so'lek!" selena moaned with her tail wagging and found his tail to wrap around it while she turned his head to kiss him tenderly but passionately. the young male grunted against her lips and sucked on her tongue as he thrusted desperately into her pussy. tsu'tey was getting a little jealous of their intimate moments so he went to put her nipple in his mouth and swirls his tongue around the bud as he rubs her clit slowly and harshly to edge her.

selena whimpers against so'lek's lips feeling tsu'tey's rough tongue on her bud giving her the pleasure of recovering this kind of treatment from both males.

"ma tanhi, you are not paying attention to me." tsu'tey says in an annoyed tone but selena reassures him with caressing his ears and hair.

she separates her lips from him and kisses him and uses her hand to jerk him off and guide his cock to her pussy. she wants both of them.

"ma tsu'tey....don't be jealous. i love both of you. put it in, yawne." she says in between breaths and gasps from the tip of tsu'tey's cock rubbing her clit. tsu'tey slightly pushes his cock in and hisses at the pressure added with pleasure when it's inside with another. so'lek whimpers, continuing to push his deeper and faster so desperate to cum from her pussy alone.

so'lek thought this was impossible but now, it is not. he doesn't want to push it when they've barely begun as a poly relationship. either way he wants to take the leap.

so'lek grabs his queue and shows it to selena and tsu'tey to indicate what he wants. with his other hand around her waist and his lips nibbling her ear, "please....bond with me....i want to feel it."

selena didn't think twice, grabbing tsu'tey's and her braid, showing their tendrils to connect with so'lek's. tsu'tey didn't mind, he was going to share with the other male and willing to accept him as a mate as long they got along.

all three of them connect with each other and a surge of love and passion connects them spiritually as they drown in their love. both males thrust into their mate and take turns in kissing each other. so'lek felt happy and at ease at finally not having one but two mates who will cherish him. he's not alone now.

all three of them came together and lovingly nibbled, kissed, and embraced each other with the warmth of their bodies with their queues still connected.

NOTE : i think i want to make a so'lek fic with tsu'tey after this came to mind 👀

TAGS

@eywaite

#romancingpandora2024 #tsu'tey x oc #tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan #tsu'tey smut #tsu'tey avatar #solek frontiers of pandora #so'lek #so'lek smut #so'lek x oc #avatar 2009 #avatar 2022 #blog post #navi oc #avatar #avatar frontiers of pandora #na'vi oc #na'vi avatar #valentines day

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atlafan · 1 year

Text

No Complaints - Part One

a/n: hellloooooooo the fic you’ve all been waiting for is finally here. Based off these posts, you all wanted a full fic, so as per usual, first part on here, the rest on patreon. I don’t think I’ve ever written this much smut in one fic, so buckle up. I honest wasn’t sure what I wanted to name this fic. I kept calling it ‘happy himbo’ but that didn’t work. He’s sort of just like a polite dirtbag, but with an endearing twist! You’ll see the theme with “no complaints” throughout the fic. I spent way too long on this banner. I photoshopped that bottom half onto that woman and I also created that entire wall because I’m insane. ANYWAYS PLEASE REBLOG AND LEAVE NOTES AND COME TO MY ASK BOX AND JUST PLEASE GIVE ACTUAL INTERACTIONS WITH THIS PLEASE I’M SO TIRED also there are some strong sex and the city inspired vibes

Warnings: just...a ton of filthy smut, anal, public sex, dominant and submissive vibez...just...yeah

Words: 11.6K

Tumblr Masterlist I Patreon Masterlist I Ask

With the way Layna’s cheeks went bright red when she glanced at the text that just came in on her smart watch, each of her friends put down their forks and stopped paying attention to their delicious brunch food to ask her what just got sent to her, and by who.

“Who just made you make that face?” Christine asks with a smirk.

“Hm? Oh, no one.” Layna waves her off. “Anyone want another mimosa?”

“Don’t change the subject.” Serene says. “Is it a guy?”

“It is, but it’s no one special.”

“Then you can tell us what it said.” Michelle says.

“Please don’t make me show you, it’s embarrassing.” Layna groans.

“Wait, is it the himbo from your gym?” Christine asks excitedly.

“What himbo from your gym? You’ve never mentioned a himbo from your gym.” Serene says.

“Okay, okay. There’s this really hot guy that works at my gym. He’s sort of like a trainer, but he does other maintenance stuff too. We’ve hooked up a couple times. It’s not a big deal.”

“What makes him a himbo?” Michelle asks.

“Um, well…” She looks down at her phone and flips it over. She unlocks it so her friends can see the text he sent her. “He is a big fan of emojis, types with the worst grammar, and well…he’s basically just a polite dirtbag.”

Her friends all look disgusted as they look up from Layna’s phone.

“I’m sorry, but why are you bothering with this idiot?” Serene asks.

“Because the sex is incredible. I don’t think a guy has ever made me orgasm as often as this guy has, and he’s so attentive. He’d go down on me for hours if I let him.”

“When and how did this all start?” Christine asks. “Because the last you told me about the dude was that you just thought he was cute, but you hadn’t even spoken.”

“Alright, I’ll start from the beginning. But I need more alcohol.”

A few weeks ago…

Layna started going to a new gym. She could afford to go to a better one with more space that is closer to work so it’s easier for her to go after a long day. It helps to clear her head. The life of an art dealer seems glamorous, but it’s a lot of work. You are constantly schmoozing with artists to get them to have a show at your gallery, and then you have to market that show to all the right people to make sure the art is actually bought. Not to mention working with a catering crew, lighting experts, and having to smile the entire time because you need the commission from the sales. It’s a lot of long hours and working on the weekends. So having a good gym close by that Layna can go to on her way home is super helpful.

The locker room is extremely clean and sanitary. There’s even a steam room! Not that Layna has a huge desire to sit naked in a pool of her own sweat with a ton of other naked women around her, but a good steam after a particularly grueling workout is nice. The lockers are spacious enough for all her things. She changes, wipes her makeup off, throws her hair up into a high pony and makes her way out to the main area.

Layna likes to warm up on the treadmill. She doesn’t run, but she works her way up to walking at a faster pace and at an incline. She only does about a mile, it’s enough to get her muscles warm and ready for the strength training portion of her workout. She doesn’t love using machines. She never feels like she knows what she’s doing, but it can be boring to do the same things with the same weights. She keeps looking over at the leg extension machine. It seems simple enough, but she’s honestly a little too scared to use it. So she doesn’t.

She sticks to her normal routine, goes for a relaxing steam, and then takes a quick shower before getting ready to go home. As she’s leaving, she notices a very cute guy going around wiping down machines and collecting rags and towels people have left behind. He’s wearing a shirt with the gym’s logo on it, so she assumes he works there. He looks up and over at her, making eye contact for only a moment, but the way he grins at her makes her blush and smile nervously back at him before leaving.

She goes most days after work, and it’s the same thing. She does her usual routine, but looks off at the machines she’s too afraid to use. It takes about a week of stolen glances, but by Saturday morning, when there are less people around, the very cute guy approaches Layna before she can take any weights off the racks.

“Hi.” He says. “You’re a new member here, right?”

“Yeah.” She nods, smiling. “Is it that obvious?”

“No.” He chuckles. “I work a lot of hours here and I hadn’t seen you before this week, so I just assumed. I hope this doesn’t come off as creepy, but I see you looking around a lot. Is there something you want to try that you might feel too nervous about?”

“Oh, gosh.” She slides a hand down her face. “Yeah, I want to try some of those leg machines, but I hate being the person that takes up time learning how to use it when other people are waiting. They’re sort of intimidating.”

“You’re allowed to take up space, so don’t worry about that. It’s less busy today, I could show you how a few things work if you want.”

“Are you a professional trainer?”

“You mean do I have a college degree in athletic training with a ton of certifications? No, but I am a personal trainer, and I do have the certifications to train others. We all learn how each machine works so we can teach you all.”

“Alright, then, yes I would appreciate some help. Um, what’s your name? You’re not wearing a tag or anything.”

“M’Harry.” He extends his hand, and she takes it to shake.

“I’m Layna.”

“That’s a really pretty name.” He smiles. “Come on, I’ll show you the leg extension machine first.”

Harry has Layna sit down, and he goes over what a good amount of weight to start is his, and how many reps she should do how many times to see improvements. She’s a little embarrassed using it since he’s watching her, but she calms down a little when he gives her shoulder a squeeze and tells her she’s doing it perfectly.

“Is it alright that I just touched you? I should have asked first, I’m sorry.” He tells her after taking his hand away from her quickly.

“It’s fine! I don’t mind if you touch me.” She says with a flirtatious glint to her eyes that he picks up on right away.

She does fifteen reps, three times, then Harry takes her to the leg curl machine. She’s in a much more compromising position now because she’s laying on her stomach with her ass in the air and the backs of her legs have to lift up the weight. Harry watched her form, but wasn’t shy about checking out her ass either. The third and final machine he shows her is the hip abduction/adduction machine. He explains that there are different muscle groups worked depending on if your thighs are on the inside of the pads or on the outside.

Opening and closing her legs like this in front of him really shouldn’t have been such a turn on for either of them, but it was. The eye contact was strong, and Layna could feel herself getting worked up. When she’s done, she wipes off the machine, but makes no move to walk away from him.

“I don’t usually advertise this, but one of the perks of working here is that we get a private bathroom that you need a key to get into.” He tells her lowly so no one else around will hear. “If you grab your stuff to shower and meet me by the employee door on the inside of the locker room, I can let you in.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” She nods.

“Yeah?” He asks for confirmation. “You want to fuck me?”

“Jesus!” She shushes him, making him laugh. “Yes, you didn’t have to ask.”

“I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page and that you didn’t think I was just going to let you have a more private shower.”

“I understood from your tone. Give me five minutes to grab my things.”

Mid-morning delight isn’t something Layna takes part in very often, but this guy is fucking hot, and he wants to fuck her, so she’s going to let him. She gathers her things and discreetly makes her way to the employees only door at the back of the locker room. Harry cracks it open just enough to see her, then opens it fully to let her in. She follows him down the hall past a large laundry room, and to the right. He scans his keycard on the lock and opens the door for her. When he closes it, he flips the lock so others will know the bathroom is otherwise occupied.

There is a stall to one side with a toilet, and a large sink counter across from that. Harry goes to turn the water on in the large shower on the other end of the room. Layna sets her gym bag down on the counter. Harry comes up from behind her, wrapping his arms around her torso as he starts to kiss on her neck. Normally, she would care that she was sweaty, but she made sure to wipe her neck down and pat it dry before meeting him at the door. He sucks a bruise into the space behind her ear, causing her to gasp and hook her around his head to tug on his hair. He presses himself against her ass, and she feels how hard he is.

Harry parts from her and turns her around. They launch at each other, teeth clanking as they kiss, each wanting to get their tongue in the other’s mouth. Harry’s hands are all over Layna. He grips the hem of her shirt and pulls it off of her. They clumsily make their way over to the shower as they continue to strip each other of their clothes.

“Wait!” She says just as he’s about to rid her of her leggings. “Shower shoes.”

“Oh! This bathroom gets cleaned like five times a day, it’s all good.”

“Okay.” She nods and lets him proceed.

Once they’re both naked, Harry all but throws Layna against the tile wall of the shower. They’re both under the water, which makes her feel better about his mouth exploring her chest. She nearly loses her balance when he starts sucking on one of her nipples.

“What’s okay and what’s not okay?” He asks her after leaving a nasty bruise on the top of her breast. “Where can I touch?”

“You can…you can do whatever.”

“Layna, I wanna know what makes you feel good or this won’t be any fun.”

“I want you to use me however you like. You can touch wherever you want.”

His lips slot over hers as his hand makes its way between her thighs. His fingers rub through her folds before slowly inserting his middle finger up inside of her. Her head falls back against the tile, and Harry takes the opportunity to kiss on her exposed throat, working his way to the crook of her neck to bite and suck on. She reaches between them to start fisting at his cock, swiping over the tip to spread his precome. He groans into her hot, wet skin, and bucks into her hand. He slips his ring finger inside her, and lifts one of her legs up to rest on the hinge of the arm he’s not using to thrust.

“We need to be sort of quick, so I’m sorry if this gives you whiplash.” He warns her.

At first, Layna is very confused. If he has to fuck her quick and hard, then that’s totally fine. This doesn’t need to be a whole two-act production. She figured since he lifted her leg that he was getting ready to stick his dick in her, but that’s not what he did. Once his fingers were sunk deep inside her, he took a deep breath and started pumping into her at lightning speed. Which, usually that would not feel good, but his fingers pet and drag against her front wall as he’s thrusting in and out, so it feels incredible. He’s not even doing anything to her clit and she feels like she could come from this alone.

“Jesus, fuck!” She nails sink into his shoulders as she holds onto him.

His mouth crashes to hers, probably to help keep her quiet. He swallows every moan, every whimper, every muffled grunt of his name. She’s not sure how his arm isn’t getting tired, but she’s not complaining. No, she feels good, so fucking good, better than she’s ever really felt, and there’s the most perfect amount of pressure in her lower stomach.

You would think with the sound of running water and the fan in the bathroom going that you wouldn’t be able to hear much else. But Layna can hear how wet she is. There’s a squelching sound with each thrust of Harry’s fingers. It’s making her dizzy. She moves to bury her face in his neck so she can breathe a little easier. Her nails are now digging into his back.

“Doing so well being quiet for me.” He says into her ear. “Next time we can go somewhere less public so you can let out all those pretty noises.”

“I’m getting close.” She warns him.

“I know, I can tell.” Normally something so arrogant wouldn’t turn Layna on, but for whatever reason, Harry’s cockiness is doing it for her. “You’re dripping down my wrist, you know that, right? You’ve squirted like two times already.”

“Please, I...Harry, I need to come.”

“So come.” He nips at her earlobe. “Come for me.”

That was all the encouragement she needed. Her back arches, and it feels so good that the noise that falls from her is silent. Everything goes white. She can tell that she’s gushing around him. He takes his fingers out to watch the rest of it drip out. He slips them back in, almost in a tender way, just cupping her pussy and rubbing it to soothe her and help her calm down. He sets the leg of hers he was holding up down and kisses her.

“That felt amazing.” She breathes. “Want me to do you now?”

“Please. Just jerk it, you don’t have to put your mouth on me this time.”

Layna nods, happy to not be blowing him. She usually prefers to kneel on a pillow, not hard, solid tiles. They continue kissing and licking and nipping at each other while she pumps him. She ends up using both of her hands, and she swears she could have come again from the way Harry moaned in her ear. She lets him come on her tummy, and even scoops some up on her finger to suck on, just so he would have no doubt that she’s a good girl.

They clean each other up and get out of the shower. Harry watches as Layna pulls herself together, and slings her gym bag over her shoulder.

“So, can I get your number?” Harry asks her as he opens the bathroom door to lead her out.

“Um, sure.” She blinks. “Just for sex though, right? I’m not really looking for anything serious right now.” They walk out to the main area of the gym. It’s gotten busier.

“Yeah, just for sex. I’m not looking for anything serious right now either.” He runs a hand through his slightly damp curls. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since you started coming in. You’re so sexy.”

“The…the feeling is mutual.” She tells him, feeling her cheeks heating up. “Here’s my phone, you can put your contact in.”

Harry takes her phone and creates his contact. “I just put ‘H’ as the contact name. That’s what most people call me.”

“Cool.” She smiles. “So…I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, see you around.” He smiles back.

He seemed nice enough, and he turns her on, so Layna felt good about her new fuck buddy. There’s no harm in it. They’re both adults, if they want to stop, they’ll stop.

“I’m sorry, you let a strange man finger fuck you in a completely secluded area?” Serene asks.

“Yes.” Layna confirms. “It was like something out of a sex novel, you know? I wanted him, and he wanted me, so I figured what the hell?”

“Have you hooked up since?” Michelle asks eagerly.

“She sure has.” Christine grins.

“Why does Chris get all the juicy gossip?” Serene asks.

“Because she’s the least judgmental out of the three of you. Besides, I haven’t actually told her anything, she just has a sixth sense for this stuff.” Layna answers bluntly. “I knew you wouldn’t approve of me being so reckless, and I knew that Michelle wouldn’t approve of what he does for work.”

“Well, if you’re just fucking him, then it doesn’t matter. Just don’t catch feelings and continue seeing men with good jobs on the side.” Michelle shrugs.

“Why is being a personal trainer not a good job?” Christine asks. “He knows everything about the body, that’s hot.”

“He doesn’t know everything. He just knows how to train people. He never went to college or anything like that.” Layna explains. “Which is fine. That’s all I really know about him. We don’t talk unless we’re fucking.”

“Do you fuck at the gym a lot?” Serene asks.

“No, that was the only time. He didn’t want to risk getting in trouble, which I totally understood.”

“I’m dying to know more, so please continue.” Michelle says.

“Okay, so the second time it happened was about a week later…”

Hey, u up?

It was Friday, now technically Saturday since it was two in the morning. Layna would normally be asleep, but she was at work late for a show at the gallery, and she was still feeling riled up from that. So she texted him back.

Hey, yeah I am

Wut r u up 2?

Layna furrowed her brows at the text. Is he drunk? Who over the age of sixteen texts like this? She panics for a moment. What if he’s only college aged. She’s twenty-nine.

That depends…how old are you?

29 how old r u?

Twenty-nine

So r u dtf or nah?

Yeah, wanna come to my place?

Send me the addy

Layna can’t believe she’s about to let a guy who texts like this come over and fuck her. But he made her come so hard last week without even touching her clit! And she gushed and gushed. She wants to see what he can do without a time constraint.

Twenty minutes later, Layna is unlocking the door to her apartment. She lives in a four-story walk up, and she’s on the fourth floor. It’s a pain going up and down the stairs all the time, but she gets the rooftop all to herself, so she can’t complain too much.

“Hey.” Harry gives her a ‘sup’ nod as he comes in. He’s wearing an orange hoodie and black basketball shorts. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Hi, um, it’s right over there – oh!”

He had picked her up and thrown her over his shoulder. He finds her bedroom and tosses her onto her bed. She had put on a cute set of pj’s, a silk spaghetti string top and shorts to match. But she realizes she could have been in a paper sack and Harry still would’ve fucked her. He peels his sweatshirt off before climbing onto the bed. His lips are on hers only seconds after that.

Layna likes the way Harry kisses. He’s needy and aggressive without it being too gross and sloppy. His tongue is soft and precise, and his lips are smooth and easy to bite at. He definitely uses chapstick regularly. He tastes like mint, like he had just chewed a fresh piece of gum, and he smells woodsy with a hint of cinnamon. It’s all doing wonders for her.

His hands slide up under her shirt and he gropes at her breasts. He tweaks her nipples and grinds himself into her, making her gasp. He’s already so hard. He must be sensitive. That’s hot. He pushes her shirt up over her breasts and wraps his lips around one of her nipples. Her fingers card through his hair as she arches into him. He kisses down her stomach and drags her shorts down her legs.

“I’m glad you didn’t leave your panties on. Next time just open the door naked.” He smirks as he pushes her legs open. “You good if I eat you out?”

“Mhm, yeah. I want you to use me, remember?”

The lights in the room are dim, but still bright enough so Harry can see what he’s doing. He licks up her slit with a long drag of his tongue, then he spits on her before doing it again. Over and over, he kitten licks at her, getting her wet with his spit and her own slick. Even though it feels good, Layna is about to tell him her clit is a little higher up, but she doesn’t get the chance. He found it on his own. He looped his around her thighs, and yanked her to him before he started sucking on her clit.

“Oh, fuck that feels good.” She fists at her blankets and throws her head back.

His tongue flicks back and forth on her clit, then he goes back to sucking on it, welling up his spit every so often to keep her clit wet and comfortable. One of his hands smooths up her stomach, landing on her chest. Layna takes the hint and sucks on his middle and ring fingers. When she’s done, Harry brings them down to her center and sinks them inside. He moans against her when he feels how wet and warm and tight she is.

“Are…will you…shit.” She can’t even speak.

“Tell me what you need, baby.” He says lowly, giving her clit a breather while he continues to fuck her with his fingers.

“Will you make me squirt again?” She whimpers. “It felt so good the last time.”

“Yeah? You like getting pounded into hard?”

“Mhm.” She nods. “It feels so good when it hurts a little.”

Harry grins wickedly at her, then brings his mouth back down to her clit while he gives her fast, shallow thrusts with his fingers, finding her g-spot easily. Her hands find his hair again and she tugs hard on his roots. Her hips roll up towards his face, but his free hand pushes down on her lower stomach to keep her in place.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come!” She cries out as she makes a mess around his fingers. He moans as he licks her clean and sucks on her pussy. “Fucking hell.” She breathes, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Harry kisses up her body, then licks into her mouth while he takes his shorts and underwear off.

“Sit up.” He tells her and she does so, so he can take her shirt off. He slips his thumb into her mouth and Layna closes her lips around it. “You’re so good. You want my cock?”

She nods as she continues sucking on his thumb. He pulls it from her and gives himself a few pumps before lining up with her. Normally she’d ask a random guy to wear a condom, but she’s on the pill and right now she doesn’t particularly care. She would hope a twenty-nine year old guy would be honest about not being clean. He slowly pushes inside of her, and both of their mouths fall open.

“Jesus Christ.” Layna gasps out as her nails rake down his chest. “Please tell me it’s in all the way.”

“It’s in all the way.” He chuckles.

“Good, I don’t think I could handle much more. Can feel you in my guts.” She half jokes.

“It doesn’t hurt in a bad way, does it?”

“No! No, just give me another second to adjust and then you can move.”

“Layna?”

“Yeah?”

He brings a hand up to cup her jaw, letting his fingers sift through her hair before getting a good grip on her and yanking her head back. “I’m gonna blow your fucking back out.”

“Oh my god, he actually said that to you?!” Christine squeals.

“Mhm.” Layna nods.

“And did he?” Michelle asks.

“Yeah, don’t stop there.” Serene says.

“Okay, okay. So, yes, he actually said that to me…”

Layna tightened around him after he said that to her, which Harry takes note of. He starts to move, rocking and rolling his hips as he thrusts in and out of her. She wraps her legs around his waist, leaving her feet to rest on the base of his spine. Harry comes down chest to chest with her so he can grope her breasts and kiss on her neck.

“Okay so far?” He asks her.

“Yeah, you feel so good, you’re so big.” She musters out.

He pecks her lips before sitting up and throwing her legs over his shoulders. She grips at his thighs as he fucks into her hard and deep. Her back arches and she reaches for her clit. He drops one of her legs to swat her hand away from herself. She looks up at him with a pout.

“Did I tell you that you could touch yourself?” He says. “I decide when you come, understand?”

“Yes, yeah, I’m sorry.” She says quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I won’t do it again, I’ll wait for you to do it. I just felt so good I wanted to feel-“

“Shut up.”

Layna closes her mouth and lays back into her pillows. In her every day life, she would never let someone get away with speaking to her like that. But Harry? He can say and do whatever the fuck he wants to her.

He leans forward and drives his cock in deeper. He grips the top of her headboard and beats into her. He licks his fingers and starts rubbing her clit. Layna isn’t sure what to do with her hands, so she just scratches at his chest. He seems to like it because he’s moaning pretty loudly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She pants.

“Beg me for it.” He tells her. “Beg me to come.”

“Please, please let me.” She whimpers. “Please, I’m so close Harry, please.”

He smirks down at her. “Go ahead.”

She smiles at him and lets herself go. Moaning out and grinding up against him. When she’s done, he comes back down to her to kiss her and give her slow rolls of his hips.

“Say ‘thank you Harry’.”

“Thank you Harry.” She says weakly.

“God, you’re so fucking good.” He groans. “Can I fuck you from behind?”

“Yes, please.” She nods rapidly. “That’s my favorite.”

He nods and pulls out so she can get into position for him. He slides back in and reaches up to grip the top of the headboard with one hand, and the back of her neck with the other. And then he’s off. He pounds into her. Layna presses her hands flat to the headboard to brace herself and to stop her head from knocking into it. She moves her hips in circles and fucks herself back on his cock to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck, Layna.” Harry moans.

“Shit, please don’t stop, you’re hitting it.” She grunts. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” She has a few stray tears rolling down her cheeks as she whimpers and whines.

“Are you gonna come for me again?”

“Only if you’ll let me, but I don’t know how long I can hold it.”

The bed is shaking and the headboard is knocking against the wall from the force of Harry’s thrusts. Harry’s hand slides from the back of Layna’s neck to the front, and he yanks her up and back until her back is pressed to his chest. He moves his hips in circles along with hers. One arm wraps around her chest, and the other around her waist so he can rub her clit. She slides his hand from her chest back to her throat and presses down on it.

“You’re so fucking perfect, Jesus.” He growls into her ear. “You like being choked?”

She nods and whines as she starts to feel herself getting close again. He stopped right before she could get there a moment ago. She hopes he won’t stop this time. Her head rolls back to his shoulder and her eyes flutter closed. His cock feels so good, it’s sliding in and out of her perfectly. And his fingers on her clit are like magic.

“I want you to come.” He tells her, nipping at her earlobe. “Give it to me, now.”

Layna doesn’t need much more encouragement than that before she loses it. He continues rubbing her clit, making it last as long as possible. When he feels her start to loosen around him, he pushes her to lay on her stomach. He pulls out of her and comes all over her ass and back, not holding back his moans and grunts and groans. When he finishes, he lays on his back next to her to catch his breath. She turns her head to look at him, and he looks at her.

“That was all okay?” He asks softly.

“I liked it, I really liked it.” She breathes. “I like being good. I…I like being called a…a good girl. You’ve almost said it a couple of times, but you just say I’m good. You can call me a good girl.”

“Yeah?” He turns onto his side, smiling at her. “Do you prefer praise or degradation?”

“A mix of both. I really liked the way you spoke to me. It was hot.”

He smirks before leaning in to kiss her forehead. “You’re a good girl Layna.” And with that, he gets off the bed and grabs his clothes.

He doesn’t put them on though. Layna can barely move, but she knows she should get up to go to the bathroom and rinse herself off. Only, when she props herself up on her elbows, she hears the distinct sound of water running. Is he taking a fucking shower? He’s in and out in five minutes. She listens closely and hears him go into her fridge, and then he leaves.

“So, he made good on blowing your back out, showered, and then rifled through your fridge before leaving your apartment?” Michelle asks.

“Yup.”

“What did he even take?” Serene asks.

“My last black cherry Bubbly!”

“He took a seltzer water from your fridge and dipped?!” Christine can’t help but laugh. “Why did he think he had the right to just do what he wanted in your apartment.”

“I don’t know…but as weird as it was, it kind of turned me on.” Layna giggles.

“So, have you seen him since last week?” Serene asks.

“At the gym during normal work hours, but we haven’t hooked up again. We’ve just been sort of…sexting.”

“Honey, this isn’t sexting, it’s hieroglyphics.” Christine says, and everyone laughs.

“I know, it’s totally not sexy to use eggplants and finger emojis, but at night it works for me. He doesn’t usually text me this early in the day. He must want to get together, right?”

“This is a cryptic ass message, so who knows.” Serene says.

The girls finish their brunch and part ways. Serene is going in the same direction as Layna, so they walk together.

“I can feel your judgement, it’s radiating off you.” Layna says to her friend.

“I’m all for having a fuck buddy, but some guy that works at your gym? He sounds like a loser.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s a loser or not, he’s fucked me better than anyone I’ve ever slept with, and it’s only been two times. We’re on the same page about not wanting anything serious. This could work for a bit.”

“And what happens when you inevitably catch feelings? Are you going to have a guy that lives in hoodies and basketball shorts to one of your showings?”

“I’m not going to catch feelings for him. I barely know anything about him, and I intend to keep it that way. We don’t speak about anything other than working out or sex. It’s perfect.”

Hey, u up?

It’s 2:30 in the morning on Thursday, now technically Friday. The buzz of Layna’s phone wakes her up. She must have forgotten to put it on do not disturb before she went to bed. She doesn’t have to be at the gallery until 1PM tomorrow, so it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to get her shit rocked at this hour.

Just barely…did you want to come over?

Yeah, I want to 👅🍑

Jesus fucking Christ.

I’ll unlock my door so you can just come in. How long will you be?

10 min

Okay, see you soon!

👍🏻

Layna gets up to use the bathroom and freshen up quickly. She spritzes some perfume into her hair and dabs some on her wrists. The last time Harry came over, he told her she should just wait for him naked, so that’s what she’s going to do. She gets the lighting just right, then lays on her tummy with her back arched and her head resting on her hands. She hears her down open and close and butterflies soar through her stomach.

“Layna?!”

“In the bedroom!”

He comes in wearing a black hoodie and black joggers. He smiles when he notices that she’s completely naked.

“You’re in the perfect position for what I want to do to you.” He tells her as he takes his hoodie off, revealing a white undershirt.

“And what exactly might that be?” She bats her eyelashes at him sweetly.

“Couldn’t you tell from my text? I’m gonna spend some time on your ass tonight.”

“Oh, right.”

“You good with that?”

“I’m good with whatever you want to do. You know that already.”

“I don’t want to do anything that you’re not into.” He sits on the edge of the bed and feather lightly strokes her back with the tips of his fingers.

“I’m into it. I would say if I wasn’t.”

“Would you?”

“Yes.”

“Great, then stay just like that.”

“Wait. Could you kiss me first?”

He smiles and bends down to pecks her lips, lingering for a moment to let her deepen it. He kicks his sneakers off and gets himself behind her on the bed.

“How do you feel about spanking?” He asks as he kneads her asscheeks with his large hands. “I’d love to see my handprint on you.”

“Do it.” She tells him, looking back at him over her shoulder. “Do it hard.”

Harry lifts his hand and brings it down hard to her skin, causing her to jolt forward. He pulls her hips back so she’s up on her knees, and he spreads her apart. He spits down onto her other hole, and watches as it drips down over her slit. He starts by just rubbing his thumb around the rim, getting her used to him being there. He repositions so his body is more so next to hers with his top half leaning over her ass. He starts tonguing at her hole while he works his middle finger into her pussy.

There aren’t a lot of guys that Layna has let lick her like this. Only a few. And it never felt this good. Harry’s heart is in it. The way he grunts and moans and laughs lowly against her as she squeaks and bucks and grinds backward against him is so wonderful. It’s sending her into a state of pure bliss.

He slips a second finger inside of her, and starts thrusting them in a little faster and deeper. Layna’s mouth hangs open as she grips at the blankets and just enjoys the way everything feels. He pulls his fingers from her, licks up from her pussy to her other hole over and over before fucking her with his tongue.

“Oh, shit.” She groans. “Harry, I’m getting close.”

Harry’s large hands keep her cheeks spread so he continue doing as he pleases to her. The noises he’s making are encouraging her to come, so she does. Her eyes roll back and she smiles at the feeling. Harry turns her over with no warning, and crawls up her body, licking into her mouth. She toes his joggers off, getting them down just enough to get his cock out. Neither of them bothers with taking his shirt off, it doesn’t matter. He paints his cock along her wet slit before pushing inside of her.

Her heels rest at the base of his spine as he fucks into her with ease. His lips sponge along her neck and chest. He pulls out of her abruptly and sits up. Layna whines and juts her bottom lip out in a pout.

“Relax.” He takes his shirt off and rids himself of the rest of his clothes. “Come here, ride it.” He says as he sits back on his hands with his legs spread. Layna scrambles to get up, but she’s soon straddling him and sinking down on his cock. She feels like she can barely breathe. “There we go, just relax baby.” His hands smooth over her breasts, around her back, and down to her hips.

“You’re s-so big.” She presses her forehead to his.

“I know I am.” He coos. “Probably won’t ever be able to get it down your throat.”

“That’s not true.” She pouts as she starts to move up and down slowly.

“No? So if I stuffed my fingers down your throat you wouldn’t choke right away?”

“I guess…I guess you’ll have to do just that and we’ll see.”

Harry grins as Layna opens her mouth. He sticks two fingers into her mouth and down her throat until she’s choking and gagging and spitting up. He wipes the spit from her chin and brings his fingers down to her clit to rub while she moves herself up and down on his cock.

“You’re such a good girl, Layna.”

“Do you like it better when I’m messy?”

“Yeah.” He smirks. “Sex is more fun when it’s messy, don’t you think?”

She nods and slots her mouth over his. She wraps her arms around him, letting her fingers tangle in his curls. She starts bouncing up and down on him while his fingers continue to pay attention to her clit. He rubs it hard and fast.

“God, that feels so good.” She slams down on him harder, making him moan out loudly.

“Fuck, Layna.”

“Please come, I wanna come with you, please, Harry, please, please, please.” She’s rambling and and totally lost in her lust. But he loves hearing her beg.

The bed creaks from the force of their bouncing, and it all suddenly stills as they come in unison. Layna goes slack against Harry, kissing on his neck and shoulder lazily as she basks in the warmth of his come filling her up.

Layna lifts herself off of him, and goes to use the bathroom. When she comes back to her bedroom, Harry is laying on his stomach, bare ass out for all to see, and he’s snoring. She was only gone for five minutes, how the hell is he already snoring? She’s too tired to care at this point. So, she grabs a bed shirt to throw on and gets back into bed. She wasn’t expecting him to stay since he didn’t the last time, but it’s not a big deal. She turns over to face away from him to use her phone. Just as her eyes start to droop from reading a Wikipedia article on the invention of the aglet, she feels a strong arm wrap around her stomach. Harry pulls her to his chest and shoves his leg between hers.

Later that morning, at a more reasonable hour, Layna’s alarm goes off. She blindly reaches for it on her bedside table, almost knocking it over, but she’s able to turn it off. She knuckles at her eyes and sits up. The space next to her is empty and cold. How long ago did he leave? She grabs her phone and her eyebrows raise when she reads a message from Harry at around 5AM.

Had 2 head out. I used ur shower, and helped myself 2 a cliff bar. Left u some $$ on ur dresser for a plan b. Lmk when u get ur 🩸

She looks to her right and sees three, twenty-dollar-bills on her bureau. She blinks a few times and then gets out of bed to start her day.

“He used your shower again?” Christine laughs over a late lunch with Layna later that day.

“Yeah! I don’t really care since water is included in my rent, but still! There’s a shower at the gym, use that if you can’t wait until you get home.”

“At least he told you what he took from your kitchen this time.”

“True.”

“Do you feel like a hooker since he left you cash?”

“Nah, not really.”

“Why would he even leave you money for a Plan B if you’re on the pill?”

“I never told him I was on the pill, and the last two times we’ve fucked he hasn’t worn a condom. The first time he pulled out, but last night he came inside me.”

“Not to pull a Serene, but could you not make him use a condom?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to feel him, and I just get the vibe that he’s the type of guy who would say if he was clean or not. And he’s obviously covering his tracks. So, I’m gonna pocket the money and I’ll tell him when I get my period like he asked. Funny enough, I started my placebo week two days ago, so I should be getting my period either today or tomorrow.”

“I kind of like a man that carries cash. It’s like an emergency fund, you know? Maybe he’s keeping it on him for an unexpected cover charge, or needs to leave a generous tip.”

“Right? Nothing wrong with being proactive.”

“I’m glad you’re having fun with him. I feel like you never just hook up anymore. Not since Mark, anyways.”

“I was feeling like I was too old to just be hooking up with random guys. And when I was with Mark I liked having the consistency. I’m not sleeping with anyone else, so I don’t see the harm of having a consistent fuck buddy.”

“I’m never one to rain on someone’s parade, but do you at least know if he’s sleeping with anyone else? It might be good to ask so you’ll know if you should really be using condoms or not.”

“No, that’s a good point. I don’t want to catch anything.”

“I’m always up front with the guys I sleep with that they’re not the only one.”

“You don’t always use condoms though.”

“No, but nine times out of ten I do.” Christine shrugs. “I also have no way of getting pregnant, so I don’t care as much.”

“But you could still catch something.”

“I’m not catching a baby, so I really don’t give a fuck.”

Layna bursts out laughing at that. She can always count on Christine for zero sexual judgement.

Hey, you wanted me to let you know when I got my period…so this is me letting you know I got my period

It was a text she hasn’t had to send to someone since college, but she wanted go give him the courtesy since he left her $60 in cash.

How many days u 🩸4?

What in the actually fuck?!

Who are you, my gynecologist?

LMAO

I just wanted to no when I can 👅🍑💦👉🏻👌🏼 u again

Certainly it must take more effort to type like that because of autocorrect, right??

I’ll let you know

U better

And if I don’t?

U wouldn’t b a very good girl if u don’t

Don’t u want 2 b good 4 me?

It’s usually four days, I’ll text you next week

Good girl

Layna’s never been the jealous type, and she’s not sure if she’s just horny and hormonal, but she doesn’t like the woman that Harry is assisting at the gym. She’s been all over him since the second she got there, and Harry didn’t seem to mind. Layna only uses the treadmill when she has her period. She doesn’t like doing anything too strenuous with weights or machines because you just never know if your tampon is going to leak or if your pad is going to move and then all of a sudden your leggings are blood stained.

She was trying to be discrete with her glances, but the look of disgust on her face wasn’t discrete. And after a while it was clear Harry had other things to do, but the woman wouldn’t leave him alone! Layna has noticed that in the evening hours, Harry mostly wipes down machines and collects towels. He does more of the one on one training in the early morning and afternoon. So why wasn’t this woman taking the hint?

When she’s had enough, Layna hops off the treadmill and goes to refill her water bottle. This is also the area where people can put towels in hampers. Harry comes up next to her to tie up one of the hampers to bring to the laundry room.

“You’re not subtle, you know.” He says without looking at her. “You have major resting bitch face.” Now he looks her, the side eye makes Layna laugh.

“I don’t usually.” She takes a sip of water, then twists the cap back on the top.

“So what’s different about today?”

“Would it be anti-feminist to blame it on PMS?” Normally a rhetorical question like that would make someone laugh, but it seems to go right over Harry’s head. “Anyways, it was just sort of distracting to see that girl follow you around like a lost puppy. I was trying to focus on my walk.”

“You should make a better playlist.” He turns to face her and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m not sleeping with her, if that’s what you were wondering.”

“It’s really none of my business.” She assures him. “You’re a good looking guy, I’m sure you have a lot of girls on rotation.”

“I’ve had a lot less since I started up with you.” He blushes ever so slightly, but his tone is turning her on so she doesn’t notice the rouge on his cheeks. “I don’t usually sleep with girls from the gym.”

“Ah, separation of church and state.”

“Sure?” He runs a hand through his hair. Jesus Christ, he’s dumb. But it’s so hot.

“I think we should probably use condoms if you’re seeing multiple people, just to be safe.”

“Are you not?”

“Am I not, what?”

“Sleeping with other people.”

“Oh! Um, not really. Like, I honestly haven’t had time. Long story, I won’t bore you.”

He narrows his eyes at her for a moment. “What brand of condoms do you like?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m allergic to latex so I have my own on hand.”

“I don’t like lambskin.”

“It’s not lambskin, they’re still rubbers, but the latex ingredient that I’m allergic to isn’t in it.”

“Are they big enough?”

“The smallest condom can stretch to fit around someone’s foot, you jackass.”

“That’s not very nice.” He smirks, and takes a step closer to her. “Am I gonna have to bend you over the next time I see you?”

“Maybe.” She blushes.

“You’re still on your period?”

“Yes.”

“Damn.” He sucks his teeth as he looks her up and down, very obviously objectifying her. “That’s too bad.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t forget to put you in your place so you don’t talk to me like that again.” He smirks, grabs the hamper full of towels, and disappears into the back of the gym.

“Cold shower.” She says to herself. “I need to take a very cold shower.”

Layna, Serene, Michelle, and Christine are all out for drinks on Friday night. It’s 9PM, and they’re all laughing and giggling and discussing what their plans for the rest of the night are.

“I have a party to go to for a client.” Christine says. “They loved my service so much that they want to introduce me to their friends so I can do some schmoozing.”

“I have a date with HBO and my couch.” Serene says.

“Ooh, a threesome. Good for you.” Christine jokes, making everyone laugh.

“I have a FaceTime date with Andrew.” Michelle smiles. “I thought him being in London would suck, but it’s actually been really romantic making time for each other like this.”

“That’s sweet.” Layna smiles.

“What about you?” Serene asks. “We could make my date a foursome.” She smirks.

“Actually, um…Harry is coming over around eleven.” Layna tells them.

“You’re still fucking that guy? He doesn’t even know what feminism is!” Serene says, annoyed.

“I made a joke and he didn’t think it was funny, it doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. He’s just not as educated as the rest of us, and there’s nothing with that.”

“Besides, he’s knowledgeable about what matters most.” Christine grins. “He’s made Layna squirt.”

“Shhh!” Layna hushes her friend. “I’m an open book, but I don’t want to talk about the fluids that have left my body.”

“I still can’t believe he made that happen the first time you hooked up.” Michelle says. “Vaginally.”

“I get dizzy every time I think about it.” Layna says. “He’s wild. And his dick is huge. I’ve never fucked a guy with such a big dick before.”

“I recall you mentioning Mark’s was decent.” Serene says.

“Mark had girth and that matters a lot more to me, but Harry has girth and length. And he’s been able to get my g-spot every time. Mark always had to rub my clit to get me to come.”

“Good for you.” Michelle smiles. “You deserve to have crazy hot sex with a himbo.”

All the girls laugh. They have another drink each before parting ways.

Layna takes a shower when she gets back, wanting to be as fresh as possible for her handsome himbo. She moisturizes, blows out her hair, and puts on a set of lace panties and bra. She feels giddy knowing she’s at the top of Harry’s rotation. She wonders what exactly he meant when he told her he was sleeping with less women since he met her. It’s none of her business, but she can’t help but be curious.

She grabs some condoms from the drawer in her bedside table and sets them down. Her phone buzzes at 11:05.

Here

She makes her way to her front door and opens it to let him in.

“Hey.” He gives the ‘sup’ nod but stops short when he looks at her. “Holy shit.”

“I hope you like red lace.” She smiles sheepishly. “I haven’t worn this for a while, but I th-oh!”

Harry pushed her up against the nearest wall after kicking the door closed. His tongue is down her throat, and his hands are sliding around to her ass to the backs of her thighs to hoist her up. She wraps her legs around his waist, and sucks on his tongue while he carries her to the bedroom. Tonight, Harry’s wearing a grey hoodie that has the word ‘DAMN’ on the chest, paired with navy basketball shorts. He gets them both on the bed, with his body still on top of hers. He bites on her bottom lip and sucks on it harshly, making her moan and arch into him. He grinds against her so she can feel how hard he already is. He pulls her hands from his hair and pins her wrists down on either side of her head and looks at her. Her chest is heaving.

“You wore this for me?”

“Well…yeah.” She blinks. “I wanted to look nice.”

“For me.” He confirms.

“Who else would I put this on for?” She asks innocently. “I told you last week I wasn’t sleeping with anyone else.”

He continues to look at her, staring into her soul. “Keep your arms where they are.” He tells her and starts kissing down her neck. His hands grope at her breasts over the lace material. His warm mouth licks and sucks on her nipples, dampening the lace. He drags his tongue down her stomach until he’s kissing over the wet patch covering her center. He strokes her softly with his thumb, teasing her. He brings his mouth back down to her, kissing and licking, teasing her even more. She squirms underneath him, but she knows she needs to stay put like he told her. She knows she’s still in for it since she called him a jackass. Her toes start to curl and she bites her lip and does her best not to whimper and whine.

“You were rude to me last week, when all I did was ask an innocent question.” He says as his thumbs start to massage the inside of her thighs. “I wasn’t trying to be a jackass.”

“It was the way you asked it, I’m sorry.” She sits up on her elbows so she doesn’t have to strain as much to look at him.

“You’re always telling me how big I am, I figured you’ve only fucked guys with chodes or something. I want you to be comfortable, so I just wanted to make sure you had the right condoms.”

“Okay.” She nods. “Are you still going to…to bend me over and put me in my place?”

“Is that what you want?”

“I’m afraid to say yes because then you’ll do the complete opposite to keep teasing me.”

“Alright, listen.” He sits up on his knees, placing his hands on top of her knees. “That kind of stuff is supposed to feel good. I’m not going to bend you over my knee and make you count to ten. I am going to spank you, but only because I want to watch your ass ripple while you’re wearing these panties.”

“You can do whatever you want. I want you to do whatever you want.”

“Mhm, I know. You want me to use you like my own personal plaything.” He pulls his hoodie off and tosses it to the floor. He moves to sit on the edge of the bed. “Come here and lay across my lap.”

Layna crawls over to him and does as he says. He’s sitting far back enough on the bed so that she’s not dangling off of it. She’s actually pretty comfortable. She feels his finger hook into the back of her panties to pull them to the side. His fingers gently rub through her folds. Then he drags his fingers up the back of her ass cheek before groping it. He lifts his hand and brings down on her hard, making her jolt forward.

“Was that too hard?” He asks as he rubs over the pink welt forming.

“No, that was perfect.” She says after she catches her breath. “You can even do it harder.”

“You’re a dream, you know that?” He smiles at her, then pushes her head back down. His hand goes up, and he swats her ass hard.

He switches from spanking her to rubbing her from behind with his fingers until she’s dripping and sticky between her legs. He lifts her up just enough to get out from under her, then gets behind her. Her kisses on her ass, where his various handprints are, in an attempt to soothe her flaming skin. He grips the waist of her panties and drags them down her legs.

“Should’ve taken these off before and stuffed them down your throat while I was spanking you.” He sighs, disappointed with himself. “Next time.” He tosses the garment to the floor and spreads her cheeks. He licks up from her slit to her ass, then crawls up her body, licking up her back and kissing on her shoulders. She likes having his weight on her. “What do you feel like doing tonight since I’m here at a better hour?”

“Hmm…” She taps her chin and he gives her the room to roll onto her back. She smooths her hands over his shoulders before pecking his lips. “You’re a real ass man.”

“Guilty as charged.” He smirks. “You’ve got great tits too, though. Think I really like your whole body.”

“I like yours too.” She giggles.

“Seriously, Layna, how do you want it tonight?”

“I feel like you’re asking because you have something you wanna do.”

“Guilty again.” He sighs. “I want to fuck you, like normal…and then I was wondering if we could go a second round, but that time…could I fuck you in the ass? How do you feel about anal?”

“I like it!” She blurts out. “I really like it. It feels good. I have a, um, a, uh vibrator that you can put inside me and then you’ll feel the vibrations too while you’re fucking me and it’ll feel really good for both of us.”

“So, you’ve been fucked in the ass before?”

“Mhm. Well, not with an actual dick. It was with a butt plug, but it was pretty big and I used it a lot.”

“I’ll loosen you up with my fingers while I fuck you from behind.”

“You’re gonna have to take your shorts off to fuck me.” She grins.

“Not yet I don’t. I just got your panties off, I’m gonna go down on you. You made a fucking mess while you were getting spanked.”

“I thought I was gonna squirt. My pelvis was right on your thigh, it felt so good.”

“Well, we’ll just have to make sure that happens. I didn’t mean to deny you of anything.”

He kisses back down her body and gets right to work. He sucks on her lips, spits on her, then starts fucking her with his tongue while his fingers take care of her clit. She tugs on his hair and her thighs shake when he starts sucking on her clit. He moves his tongue around it in circles and keeps it wet. He presses his hand down on her lower belly and fucks into her with his fingers.

“Oh, shit.” She gasps. “Fuck, fuck! You’re so good at this.” She throws her head back and lets the waves crash over her. She makes a mess between her legs for him, and he gladly cleans it up. They both sit up and rid themselves of the rest of their clothes. Harry sees the condoms on the side table, so he grabs one to roll on. “Hey, wait.” She puts her hand on his wrist.

“What?” He looks at her with a frown. “Do you not feel like it now? It’s okay if you don’t, I’m obviously not going to force you, um, I can le-“

“Harry, calm down.” She chuckles. “I very much still want to fuck. I just…you’ve never let me…I’ve only ever given you a hand job.”

“Oh.” He rips the foil packet open and rolls the rubber onto his throbbing cock.

“You’ve had me choke on your fingers, and you know how good I am with my mouth. Do you not want my mouth on you there?”

“It’s not that.” He knees onto the bed and maneuvers her to lay on her back. “I guess I’d just rather put it in you here.” He pushes inside of her and she swallows him whole. “Nothing feels better than this.” His hand slides up her chest until it’s gripping her throat.

“I – fuck – I just want you to know I’ll do it. I think I’m one of the few women out there that actually likes having someone’s dick in their mouth.” She rubs his forearm up and down while he gently squeezes on the sides of her throat. “I want to reciprocate.” She manages to say.

“I’ll think about it.” He grunts as he thrusts in and out of her.

With him sitting up and choking her, and her laying on her back with her knees bent, it’s not long before Layna’s bed starts to shake, and her headboard starts banging against the wall.

“Can I rub my clit?” She asks faintly.

“Fuck, yeah, you can.” His free hand reaches to grip the top of the headboard. “You’re such a good girl, Jesus Christ. I want you to come. Come whenever you want, you don’t have to hold it.”

“Fuck, Harry, thank you.”

She reaches her hand to rub at her clit, and she melts further into the mattress. Harry gets distracted from watching her touch herself, and ignores the popping sound he hears between them. He starts panting, and so does she. Her back arches off the bed as she comes, and he follows behind, filling her up.

He lets go of her throat and comes down to kiss her. Layna moans into his mouth as she calms down. They both start smiling and giggling.

“Nothing’s even funny.” She continues giggling. “That just felt really fucking good.”

“Yeah, it did.” He smooths some hair away from her forehead.

“Will you fuck my ass now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He pecks her lips and pulls out of her.

“Do want, like, a banana or anything to help you bounce back?”

“You have bananas?” He asks excitedly.

“Yeah! They’re in the kitchen in the fruit bowl.”

“Sick.” He gets off the bed, and tosses the condom in her trash. “Do you want one?”

“No, thanks. Maybe…could you get me a glass of water? Throat’s a little sore.”

“Shit, I didn’t do it too hard did I?”

“No! Oh my gosh, no. It was perfect. I can’t wait to see the bruises on my neck in the morning.” She blushes.

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

He pecks her forehead before leaving the room. He comes back shortly with half a banana in his mouth, the other half in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Layna takes the glass and slowly sips on the water. Harry tosses the banana peel in the trash before getting back on the bed.

She looks down and sees that he’s still plenty hard. He notices her looking and then raises an eyebrow at her.

“What, do you not like the way I have it shaved?”

“Huh?” She snaps out of her trance. “No, I just…how did you get hard again so fast?”

“It never went down.” He shrugs. “I have pretty good stamina. I’ll be sensitive, but that’ll be better for you so I won’t have to be in your ass for that long. I know it feels good, but a long round of anal sex can feel not so good the next day.”

“That’s so true.”

“How much prep do you think you need? Will you open right up for me?”

“I’d really like to.” She chews on her bottom lip, and leans over him to grab her bottle of lube out of her drawer. “This should help, though.”

“Ah.” He observes the bottle. “This is good stuff.”

“Yeah, I prefer the water based lube, it’s less messy and feels more natural.”

“Get on your stomach, I’ll start getting you ready. Put your ass up in the air.”

Layna listens to him and gets into position. He squeezes the bottle and lets the lube drip and slide down her hole. He gets his middle finger wet, and rubs it around her rim. Layna sighs contently into her pillow. Harry works his finger into her slowly.

“Harry, my vibrator is in that same drawer. Could you grab it and put it inside my pussy?” She looks back at him over her shoulder. “It’ll help me relax a little more for you.”

“Yeah, one sec.”

He pulls his finger from her and leans over the edge of the bed to rummage through her drawer. He find the vibrator. It’s in the shape of a penis, and is simple. Harry gets some lube on it before turning it on and slipping it inside of her. She sighs and relaxes a little more. Harry rips open another condom and rolls it onto his cock.

“I’m gonna start.” He tells her, rubbing her hips and asscheeks.

“Could I…could we switch positions?”

“You wanna ride my dick while it’s in your ass?”

“Yeah, sit on the edge of the bed.” Harry does as she says, intrigued by it. Layna gets off the bed, holding the dildo inside her, and backs up until she’s sitting on Harry’s lap with her back to his chest. “This is more comfortable, and with my legs on the outside of yours, I’m spread a little more.”

“I didn’t think most women knew how to take it up the ass without doing doggy.” He grips himself and paints his cock along her hole. Layna reaches behind and helps him slowly feed it into her.

“I guess I’m not most women.” She grunts. “Ew, I didn’t mean that in like a ‘I’m not like other girls’ way.”

“I knew how you meant it.” He holds his breath until his cock is all the way inside of her. He keeps his hands on her hips, but they both just sit for a moment, the sound of the vibrator inside Layna filling the room.

“I feel so full.” She sighs and hooks an arm behind Harry’s head. “You can move.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm. Give it to me.”

Harry starts to move Layna for her, controlling the pace. She’s not complaining. They get a good rhythm going after Harry squirts some extra lube on her ass. He moves her legs so it’s like she’s straddling him. It gives her some leverage to start moving herself while Harry thrusts up inside of her and rubs her clit.

He watches as sweat falls down her spine. He leans forward and kisses on the back of her neck and shoulders. It’s a slow grind, a good groove. Layna hasn’t felt this good in a long time. She’s never told any of her friends, not even Christine, that she likes anal sex this much. It’s so taboo and naughty and she can take it so well. She’s not sure what it is exactly, but she just likes feeling full. Not to mention, she loves the way a man reacts to it. Harry is breathing heavily and moaning and pressing his sweaty chest to her back. His hands are groping her breasts, she’s got a decent grip on his hair, and it’s all so deliciously overwhelming.

“Layna, I’m getting close.” He warns her.

“I’m almost there.” She pants.

His fingers go back to her clit and he starts rubbing at rapid fire. Layna starts moaning loudly and spilling out expletives. Harry places one of his hands behind him for leverage. His own back is arching, he can feel his orgasm at the base of his spine. He can’t hold it.

“Fuck!” He cries out, then bites down hard on Layna’s left shoulder.

That pushes Layna over the edge, and she makes a mess all over Harry’s thighs. He holds her to him as they both try to even their breathing. Layna lifts herself up a little, and Harry makes a panicked noise. She hasn’t heard that noise come from him before.

“I’m just taking the vibrator out, don’t worry.” She slips the toy out of her and tosses it on the bed, then leans back into Harry. She turns slightly to look at him. “Are you alright?” She asks gently.

“Yeah, that was just really amazing.” His arms are tight around her tummy. “I need a minute, sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m comfortable.” She pecks his lips, and that turns into a very searing, deep kiss from Harry.

They stay like that for around ten minutes, and then Harry lifts Layna off of him. She tells him she’s gonna go use the bathroom. He notices that the this condom popped as well. They must be expired. He grabs one of the wrappers and shoves it into one of his sneakers so he’ll know what brand to pick up the next time he’s at the drug store.

When Layna’s done, Harry goes to use her bathroom. As he comes back to her, he smirks. She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt, but that’s it. So he can see everything while she’s changing her sheets. She jumps when she sees him standing in the doorway.

“The sheets were soaked.” She explains.

“I know.” He grabs his boxers and pulls them back on. “Do you always have that much to give when you squirt?”

“Sometimes it’s only a little, and then other times it’s a lot.” She shrugs as she finishes making up the bed. Harry crawls into the side he slept on the last time, and Layna slips in beside him. “Well, goodnight.”

“Night.” He reaches over her to turn her lamp off, then pulls her in close so he can spoon her.

She’s not complaining.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles x oc #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #fic #smut #fluff #angst #trainer!harry #himbo!harry

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callmejod · 1 month

Note

I have a headcanon request: James Norrington x Pirate!Reader.

How would he feel about them being a pirate? How would the relationship pan out? In an alternative world where he lives, would he still be part of the navy or would he completely side with the pirates? What would the reader think of him being a part of the Navy? Would they consider giving up their pirate life to be with him?

Thank you :)

Buckle up - this can of brainworms just exploded.

I think living with pirates and experiencing their life and lifestyle shed a new light for James. He'd be more mindful of what causes people to turn to piracy and if given oppurtunity - tries to help.

After all, in both DMC and AWE he did commit piracy in order to become an Admiral at the hands of Beckett.

If the only thing in the AU that changed was his death, I think James wouldn't even entertain the idea of coming back to the Royal Navy - not after all of Becketts dirty tricks would've been exposed.

If it comes to Pirate!reader and James' relationship.....

I want them to meet between The Curse and DMC.

You would probably meet on Tortuga or something life that.

Maybe even when Jack gets him onto the Pearl and then maybe just dumps him with you when you meet at some rundown port in the middle of nowhere.

That would be delicious.

Taking you are the captain, an extra pair of hands is always welcome. Jack probably conveniently did not mention, that the blackout drunk sailor he was bestowing upon you was in fact The James Norrington. No no. You have to find out yourself.

'What's you name son?'

When he finally wakes gets woken up with a cold seawater bucket to the face courtsy of first officer you do what any sane captain would do -

'Dont fuckin- - call me son.'

'Oof he has bite to his bark gentlemen......'

After a good chow and a hissy fit you get to actually talk to him.

What kinda ticks him off is your kindness towards him - taking things slow with the hangover that you ensured wouldn't get worse, not coldly demanding him to do everything he should be doing.

You get a minute to talk to each other in private and he just presents himself as James, scared you'll do something terrible, torture him for what he's done, even kill him.

He knows thinks he deserves it.

'Just James huh? Alright "Just James", what drove you to the sea?'

Gets surprised when you don’t press further on his identity. He works on your ship quite well actually - he's well versed in many things. A week later you try prying more information from him.

'A stupid expectation and even stupider decisions.'

'Damn, you sailors always come up with the same story huh.

He can feel the cold sweat at your words.

Even if he was ex- Navy - you started to harbour a crush on the guy. He's really charming when he wants to be and can spot a British ship from miles away. His knowledge of the sea is impressive. Many-a-time had he pulled you out of hot shit you were about to get yourelf in.

You knew. Of course you knew. You recognised him the moment he got on your ship. Stood with his back too straight for being so drunk. Almost saluted when first officer "woke him up". Carried himself with an aura of an old, tired soldier.

In a drunken moment at port he tells you his full name and makes peace that he's staying back. He then wakes up on the ship and almost cries.

And he has those eyes..... that seafoam you would willingly drown yourself in. And a great ass? The package is a perfect fit for you.

He then realises that your kindness for him may have awakened a feeling he long forsaken - love.

*two dense motherfuckers in a room*

*the crew collectively suffers when looking at you two lovesick fools who believe the other is too good to be with them.*

As time goes on, you continue to floor James with both your wit and bravery. You do not charge into battle unprepared or without good reason.

Over the months spent together your realtionship with James improves to the point he reveals a little of his life in Port Royal and how he sometimes wishes he could go back there. It breaks your heart but you bite your tounge. After all - he smiled so sweetly when he told you he found a new home on your ship, with the crew, with you.

And then DMC happens.

James deals with Beckett that with your help he will get Jacks compass. The plan is set to save you and your crew. God, he would throw himself off a cliff if he didn't donanything in his power to save your life - he would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat if it meant you were free from the East Indian Company.

'You. MY CREW GAVE YOU A HOME ON OUR SHIP ! THEY GAVE YOU A CHANCE TO BE FREE ! THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY THEM ?!'

Oh the anguish I feel when your ship gets captured by Beckett.

You are brought to the Lords' office and he offers you a deal. Your heart breaks when you see James there. You fall to your knees. He fucking feels the floor shake from the force of your fall. You pull on the chains, making two guards holding you almost stumble to keep you in place.

Hot tears are spilling from your eyes. Every one that falls twists a knife in his heart.

'Get them to agree or neither you, or them are leaving this port alive.'

You of course deny the deal but Beckett is no dumb. He saw how hard James tried to act neutral. When the guards drag you away somewhere Beckett gives James a pointed look.

On the way out he recieves a key. James knew exactly where to use it. He has never run as fast as he did to your cell.

Seeing you in those chains - nay - in such histeric tears makes him want to carve his heart out. The damp, smelly dungeon doesn't really help with making you look less miserable.

James grips the metal bars so hard his knuckles turn white.

'Please. Please let me explain.'

'There's nothing to explain. Admiral.'

The distant look you give him makes his blood run cold.

He forces the doors open fuck the key right? , bursts in and gathers you in his arms, despite your protests. You cry, wail, curse him. And he lets you.

Now he really desereved it.

All he can do is soothe you.

You give up on trying to pry him away from you. He just won't let go. He holds you like your're going to fall apart at any moment and frankly, your'e close to doing so. The feelings you so meticulously hid away surge to the surface and you can't help but relax into the warmth of his arms.

'I'm so, so sorry that it's come to this.'

'You're not sorry. You got your life back. I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew my happily ever after wouldn't come. Especially not with you.'

You feel James freeze.

'Me?'

'Yeah, I never even intended to tell you but now that I'll probably hang by tommorow-'

'Your happy ever after - what does that mean?'

He moves so fast you barely register when he looked into your eyes for the truth and when he buried his face in your neck. You sit and listen to his heathing breaths, the thumping of his heart and wonder - is it stress or- Owwwww fucking hell out with it already - you think.

After a little you whisper :

'It means i love you James. And I hoped life wouldn't be so cruel to those who long for freedom.'

You feel something wetting your shirt. A full body sob jostles you.

It's James' turn to weep.

'You big baby, don't cry. We'll be alright.'

Leaving on a cliffhanger >>>>>>

I hope it's readable - I've last written fiction like 5 yrs ago.

9.4.24 I wrote it fast so there's probably some spelling issues, I'll look later k mbyeeeeeee

10.4.24 K, I've looked this through, added a few thingies

#james norrington x reader #james norrington #jack davenport

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sailoryooons · 2 years

Text

Mine | One Shot | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Yoongi x Succubus F. Reader

☾ Summary: Yoongi lives a quiet life. His days are organized neatly, and every week he can expect the same results. Then he meets you. Hypnotizing. Otherworldly. Strange. And his life never goes back to the way it was before.

☾ Word Count: 14,864

☾ Genre: Smut, Horror, Thriller

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Buckle up bitches this list of warnings is going to exhaust even me. Overall creepiness, descriptions of liminal spaces, tons of mentions of subspace-like trances, Yoongi's mind is not always his own, unexplained happenings, Yoongi being manipulated subtly, written jump scares (like three of them?), nightmares, hallucinations, the cutest and also creepiest fucking little succubus you'll ever see, Succy (succubus reader) really likes Tokyo Ghoul that should be a hint, hints at eating raw meat (bleh), Yoongi turning against his friends, Yoongi feeling sick/depressed in a couple of scenes, Yoongi is literally addicted to eating reader out soiejijrghij, explicit sexual content including, spit play, nipple play, oral (f. and m. receiving), grinding, unprotected sex in multiple positions, cum eating, switch dynamics between the two of them often, subspace mentions, fingering, ass play (m. receiving), just.... so many bodily fluids all the time, mentions of animal death (it is a cat and it's dead body is briefly described), a lot of confusion and pace changes as a style choice, Succy is literally obsessed with Yoongi so a lot of the pet name Kitty, very cringe behavior for some rando Yoongi met at a bar, ambiguous ending. I think that covers it idk this is almost 15k of pure nightmare fuel I will send you my therapists number alright

☾ Published: October 30, 2022

☾ A/N: If I have to write this authors note one more time because 'a wild tumbeast ate my fucking post I will scream. Do better Tumblr please stop eating my content over and over lmao. ANYWAY. SURPRISE THIS IS HERE A DAY EARLY. I have zero self-control and @gimmethatagustd told me to post it now so I really said fuck it we ball. I didn't use a beta for this one because I'm insane but I did edit it myself.... so if you see errors..... no you didn't. This one was so much fun to write and I hope you all love Succy as much as I do. She deserves the world she is very... scary and cute.

HAPPY HALIWEEN!!!

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask

Friday nights are spent blowing off steam from work with friends. Yoongi has always lived a simple life, and he likes his Fridays like this: second person to the bar after Taehyung, a quick shot of whisky to take the edge off the day, followed by a whiskey neat and some fries from the kitchen that will still be a little unthawed in the middle.

Yoongi loves his Fridays at Serendipity.

The name is a bit of a joke, Jimin says. He inherited the old, rundown bar under another name from his abusive father after he passed away. Mysterious circumstances, the long-term patrons mutter into darkened ale and frosted mugs. Still, they come despite Jimin flipping the name. It was the only thing Jimin could afford to flip, the floors still the same sticky concrete that collect vomit, spilled beer, whiskey, and perhaps a little piss.

It's an ugly thing, with the vinyl stool covers splitting open to reveal guts of yellow foam, and countertops that need another layer of lacquer to fight the chipping from heavy mugs being slammed down every time Seokjin gets into an argument with one of the regulars. Yoongi tries to avoid the bathroom as much as he can. Jimin spent two weeks cleaning it and stocking it with a nice care basket with sprays, cotton rounds, and other products, only to have someone puke in it on the first night.

Yoongi doesn’t care that Jimin named the bar as a bit of an inside joke. Yoongi knows in his heart of hearts when he sees you that this moment is serendipitous.

Because when Yoongi sees you for the first time, the world ends.

Not really. But it feels that way the moment he turns at the bar. Perhaps he’s meant to see you – or perhaps it was by your design. He tilts backward when the door opens, searching for any sign of Seokjin who said he would be there in a few minutes.

And there you are.

Lights dim. The world takes on a muted feeling, like the two of you exist between murky, brackish water with something lurking just beyond the clouded space that he can’t quite make out. The roaring voices of the bar fade softly into the background until it’s just a buzz of pressure between Yoongi’s ears - or maybe that’s not right. Maybe it’s the buzzing pressure of awareness pressing on his spine and eardrums.

It isn’t pleasant but it’s not… uncomfortable.

It’s impossible to look away from you. He tries - tries to remember where he is. A bar, perhaps? Not this weird, opaque space where the only thing he can make out is the rogue on your lips, a spark in your eye, and the way you walk forward. No. Walk isn’t the right word. Glide might be more appropriate, he thinks.

As you near him, Yoongi breathes in sharply. Something like cedar mixed with jasmine and amber makes his head spin. The world tilts and Yoongi begins to slide on its new axis until suddenly, the mist surrounding him shatters as his foot comes into contact with the ground, knee buckling under his weight as his hand flies to the bar to hold himself up.

He fell off of his stool.

Yoongi almost doesn’t believe it, except Taehyung is laughing so hard next to him that Yoongi flushes furiously. He slides back onto the stool, brows furrowed and head ducked down to hide his rapidly glowing red ears and face from you.

But then you speak, and Yoongi cannot fight the urge to look at you once more. It’s an instinct pulling him from blushing furiously in his lap to stare at you.

“Hi,” you murmur. Yoongi is a fish out of water, mouth parted slightly, heart racing. Jasmine. Cedar. Amber. It’s all he can smell. His head swims, mind foggy as he tries to string together words. “Is this seat next to you taken? It’s the only one empty.”

Is it? Yoongi can’t tear his eyes from you, but he could swear Old Ass Han had been sitting there before you walked in.

Old Ass Han is the least annoying of Jimin’s customers and sometimes Yoongi doesn’t mind when Old Ass Han rambles about his late wife. Yoongi has no idea how old Old Ass Han is, he just knows that he was ancient even when Yoongi studied as a high school student tucked in the far corner of the bar.

“Um, yes?” Yoongi says and it comes out like a question.

You grin at him and the world ends a second time.

Pleasure-laced fear shoots down his spine. Your teeth are white and straight, but he swears for a split second they were razor sharp. He shakes his head, dispelling a little of the floating feeling as he says, “Of course. Yes. Please sit.”

Yoongi holds his breath and averts his eyes as you slide onto the stool next to him.

It’s suddenly too loud in the bar, a cacophony of voices and chairs scraping against concrete. Yoongi can still smell you, making the world rotate awkwardly as he spins on his stool to find Taehyung staring at him, brows raise and barely concealing his laughter.

“I don’t think I have ever seen you fumble like that,” Taehyung murmurs. He loses control of his laughter and tries to hide it in his cup of cider. Yoongi flushes and angrily stares into his whiskey, hyperaware of you leaning on the bar to call the bartender’s attention. “I mean – she is – holy shit I never believed in faeries or witches before but there's no way she’s human.”

Yoongi opens and closes his mouth. He tries to find a response to Taehyung, but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth and something tingles along every hair on his arm and neck, a sense of awareness as you lean on the bar, speaking to the bartender.

Again, your voice haunts Yoongi in a matter of seconds. He feels the need to turn and look at you again, but he doesn’t want to be weird. He’s already fallen off the stool once, and he doesn’t plan on further exacerbating his humiliation.

So, Yoongi remains facing Taehyung. Clutches his whiskey glass with shaking hands. Tries to take a breath – it comes out shaky – to calm himself. He has no idea what kind of delirium is threatening him every moment you’re next to him, but he wants to fight it - tries to fight it.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung’s brows twitch, mouth pouting. He ducks his head slightly, trying to find Yoongi’s gaze, but the older keeps his eyes fixed on the wood grain bar. Yoongi wants to look at you again. So bad. Wants to ask you your name. Wants to memorize the curves of your mouth. Wants to memorize every stroke of color in your eyes.

Want want want want.

A sudden throb pulses in Yoongi. He doesn’t know where it comes from, but he feels it bloom inside of him, unfurling with warm petals of want want want want.

The urge to turn and look at you gets stronger.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck –

Yoongi grits his teeth. Feels pressure at the back of his head, like there are featherlight fingers pressing into the base of his skull to urge him to turn around and look at you again. His muscles constrict and he feels himself start to turn, hips beginning to swivel in your direction, arms rigidly placed on the bar as if to fight his lower half.

When he doesn’t turn to look at you, Yoongi swears he imagines the light press of fingers turning into a steel grip. His eyes start to water and he clenches his teeth, feeling an immovable force on him pulling, dragging, tearing - and he lets out a small gasp, the grip on him so strong that he -

“Yoongi,” Taehyung says again, voice firmer. Yoongi looks up this time, eyes soft and round, face flushed. There’s a little sweat collected on his brow, and Yoongi feels a dull throb at the back of his head like a fading migraine. “What’s wrong?”

“Um-“ he cuts himself off and clears his throat. The pressure on his head is gone, but the menthol-cool, awareness of you is not. “Maybe too much to drink? It’s been a stressful week, I think I knocked these back too quickly.

“You do look sort of flushed.” Taehyung raises his brows. “Maybe water?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Water, please.”

Taehyung asks for water when the bartender returns with your drink. Yoongi doesn’t look at you, though he can see from the corner of his eye you’re looking at him. He grits his teeth and stares at the mismatched, colored bottles behind the bar. None of its top-shelf – Jimin certainly cannot afford it – but it doesn’t need to be.

A glass of water appears in front of Yoongi in time for Seokjin’s arrival. The pressure in Yoongi’s skull doesn’t return, and the tingling along his nerves like an electric current dies down a little. He still feels shaken as he sips the water, freeing up the dry feeling on his tongue.

Seokjin nestles between Yoongi and Taehyung, ordering himself a drink. Jimin appears around the bar this time, finally done with his bookkeeping in the back, and slides a beer over to Seokjin. Yoongi watches the way Jimin smiles at them before his attention falters and slides to you sitting next to Yoongi, making Jimin blink rapidly a few times.

Irrational irritation flares in Yoongi for a split second. Though his attention is on his friend and watching Jimin reacts to you sitting in Old Ass Han’s place, it occurs to Yoongi that he doesn’t want anyone else to compete with him.

Not that he stands a chance. But for once in his life, Yoongi wouldn’t mind being the one to take someone home. Why can’t it be him? He saw you first. You’re sitting next to him.

Just as Jimin’s eyes glitter, turning to half-moons as he smiles at you, Yoongi spins in the chair, giving you his full attention. Your eyes turn to meet his and Yoongi is falling into them, no end in sight.

“Hi again,” you greet, voice velvet. “You have pretty eyes.”

“All right, hyung,” Jimin murmurs. Yoongi isn’t looking at Jimin, but he can hear the smirk in his voice as Jimin retreats to their friends.

“Thanks,” Yoongi murmurs. He allows himself to drink you in. His head begins to buzz like he’s had too much whiskey, his tongue heavy and cotton-fuzzed in his mouth. “You have a pretty… everything.”

You have to know how beautiful you are. A deity beneath silk-smooth skin. But you duck your head, a shy giggle leaving your lips. You have the decency to look shy, averting your eyes, lip tucked between teeth.

Perhaps later Yoongi will be embarrassed by the honesty. But right now, it’s all he can do to keep his heart rate normal. You are incredible to look at. Taehyung was right – perhaps not human.

An unnatural glow hums under your skin. Your eyes are vivid, drinking him in with a spark that Yoongi swears echoes a deep flame in the pit of his stomach. He wrestles with himself, his hands fighting a magnetic pull to reach over and brush his fingers across the canvas of your skin.

Yoongi won’t be able to stop if he touches you. His thoughts repulse him – you’re a stranger. Someone he doesn’t know. Someone his mind is begging to violate. He fists his pants, flexing the muscles of his hands and willing the strange pull toward you to go away.

He doesn’t even know your name and Yoongi feels like Pandora, watching you with coveted desire and shaking, greedy hands. Fuck he wants to pry you open and see what treasure lurks beneath the surface.

“What’s your name?” You ask him. You stir a beverage straw in your drink – an Old Fashioned. His lips twitch in a smile at your taste in drinks as he offers you his name. “Yoongi,” you repeat back. The way his name melts in your mouth like sugar entices him. “Cute. You’re cute.”

Yoongi flashes you a shy smile, echoing yours. You share a laugh, his rough and scratchy as he chews the inside of his cheek nervously, yours light and floating. It echoes in his ears and Yoongi loses his sense of self, thoughts drug-laced with only you.

And then your lips are on him and once again, Yoongi swears the world around him has fallen to destruction.

It’s hard to remember the order of events. Yoongi doesn’t care. Your mouth is sugar-sweet and hungry, licking into Yoongi’s open-mouthed kisses as he presses you against something firm. He wants to melt into you, your skin like fire under his seeking hands, your breath delicate and soft against the empty air of what he thinks is his apartment as his lips attached to your neck.

Even your skin tastes sugared. A delicacy for him. For his mouth only.

Mine. The word echoes across his mind, but not in is own voice.

You writhe underneath Yoongi’s hands. He squeezes the flesh of your lips, tongue snaking out to lick a broad stripe of skin up your neck. Your fingers card through his hair, tugging slightly, just enough to make him groan against your skin.

Yoongi is painfully hard. His cock throbs in his pants, the material restrictive and making the ache so much worse. He grinds his hips against yours, mouth sucking viciously at your collarbone, the top of your cleavage, anywhere he can taste you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your head thudding against the wall behind you. Panting, you hike up one of your legs, wrapping it against his waist to pull him in tighter to you. Yoongi whines as you connect your mouths again, tongue and teeth, and spit as you grind against him. “I want you so fucking bad.”

“Have me,” he mumbles sucking your tongue into his mouth. You moan, deep in your chest. He swears for a second it’s like a growl. Thinks nothing of it. Just pushes against you hard, cock pulsing. “Whatever you want.”

“Please.”

Yoongi never wants to hear you beg again. Or maybe he doesn’t want you to stop begging. He can’t make up his mind as he pulls you toward a room – his room. Yes, you’re both in his apartment. That’s his slate grey couch that you’re stumbling past and that’s his sheets that you fall backward against.

Licking his lips, Yoongi takes a moment to look down at you. You’re splayed out for him, unfurling in his sheets. He knows tomorrow morning they’ll still smell like you – jasmine, cedar, amber. You look divine, a flower unfolding delicate petals, open for him.

Only for him. Mine.

You wrap your legs around Yoongi, pulling him flush to the edge of the bed. You release him and press your feet to the bed, knees resting against his hips. You blink at him through fluttering lashes and starry eyes. He’s never seen anything like you. He never will again. He knows it.

“God damn you’re beautiful,” Yoongi murmurs, the words slipping through his lips, unrelenting.

The stars in your eyes vanish. Yoongi recoils, seeing the fathomless black threatening to eat him alive. He begins to pull away, terror shooting through his chest, sharp and angry. You squeeze your knees against his hips, nearly shattering him. Your mouth is a gash of red with rows and rows of black teeth, churning and churning.

“Don’t speak his name here,” you hiss, words slithering in layers of many different voices. “Never again.”

Yoongi blinks and you’re blushing as you look up at him, knees splayed like butterfly wings, open for him. Just for him. He smiles at the way you giggle and hide behind a hand. “You’re so sweet.”

“You are beautiful. I swear it.”

“Touch me.” Your voice drips honey-sweet on his senses. “I want to feel you, Yoongi. Please.”

There is a prickling sensation like fear at the base of his spine but Yoongi can’t remember why as he smiles at you lazily, dipping down between your legs. He props himself above you, hands planted on the mattress on either side of your head to cage you in.

“Ask me again.”

“Please. Please please please-“

Yoongi swallows your begging tongue first, delving into your luscious mouth.

It’s been a long time since he’s been in his room like this with a partner, much less with someone who looks the way you do, but Yoongi’s hands are confident as they sweep up your sides, pulling the fabric of your shirt up with his hands as they go. You lean upward, letting him pull it off you before it flies from his hand somewhere in the room.

The lights are off in his room, but a silver shaft of moonlight spills through the window to paint you silver. Your eyes reflect the light as you drink him in, his hands brushing up your arms, warming your skin as he traces them to your tits, palming them generously over your bra.

A sigh escapes through your parted lips, red lipstick smeared artfully from the clash of mouths and tongues. He dips back down, tongue hungry for your sugar-warm taste and the liquid heat of your mouth.

Yoongi is dizzy. He’s a little off balance as he breathes you in. Your fingers pull through the strands of his hair, hips canting upward as he reaches around to unclasp your bra, peeling the unwanted layer from you.

Heated, shameless eyes meet his. You tilt your chest toward him, eager for his mouth. He doesn’t miss a beat, placing wet kisses over the tops of your breasts, more tongue and spit than lips, leaving a slick trail to your right nipple. Yoongi’s mouth is possessive, sucking your pert but between his lips and flicking it lightly with his tongue, looking up where your lips part in the moonlight to let out a soft moan.

It spurs him further, plucking your nipple with his teeth, pulling any sound he can from you. He gets a loud whine then and you wiggle your hips under the weight of where his waist is pressed into yours. Grinning, Yoongi repeats the motion, giving a generous suck before pulling away with his teeth, gentling scrapping your peak.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “Feels so good.”

Yoongi trails chaste kisses from one nipple to the other, giving it the same attention. He snakes a hand down your body, fingers dancing across heated skin to pull at the zipper on your jeans. His hands tremble, making it difficult to free the first button.

Reluctantly, Yoongi pulls his mouth away from your breast, a glossy strand of spit connecting his mouth to your swollen skin as he looks down, using both hands to pop the button on your pants and tug violently at them.

“These jeans are the fucking devil.”

“Yes,” you murmur, so quietly that he can barely hear you. He gets them to your ankle, yanking one more time and tossing them. He loses your hushed words in the rustle of clothes hitting the floor when you whisper, “I am.”

“Hmm?” he asks.

You silence his question by pulling his shirt over his head, leaning to capture his exposed chest with your tongue and teeth. Yoongi stands between your legs, head falling tilting toward the heavens at the worship of your mouth.

Deep groans leave his mouth. You bite more than you kiss, but Yoongi likes the way your mouth leaves a trail of little teeth marks, your mouth pinching his flesh before your tongue soothes it. You have him trembling, nearly making him double over as your hand presses over his clothed cock firmly, applying the pressure he needs.

It’s not enough.

Every part of Yoongi feels exposed. Even half dressed, the world is brushing against him raw, every touch of your hands like pleasure and torture, every fan of your breath like the coldest breeze on a hot summer day.

None of the sensations make sense but he feels high – higher than that time he and Jimin took shrooms at that one festival in college where the lights had whispered secrets of the forest to Yoongi and where he had tasted something beyond what he could describe.

But under your carnal touch, Yoongi knows that is nothing compared to this. Nothing compares to the way you work his jeans down to his midthigh, too impatient for him to kick out of them before you’re dipping a hand in his briefs and taking his cock into your hand.

“Holy fuck,” Yoongi gasps, nearly toppling backward. Your grip is firm, strokes deft and confident and oh my god he might come like this.

You lean up to teeth at the pulse point of his neck as your tongue darts out to take a firm lick. “There is nothing holy about me, Min Yoongi,” you murmur against his neck. He shivers, eyes rolling behind closed lids as you speak. He can feel the trace of your incisors, sharper than he remembers against his skin.

Stars dance behind his eyes. You pull your hand away from his cock, making him protest. You hush him with a bite against his shoulder, sharp enough that he thinks you break skin. He doesn’t open his eyes, letting his world sweep from under his feet as you turn him and knock him onto the bed.

When the feeling of spinning stops a little, he blinks his eyes open to help you peel his clothes the rest of the way off. You’re fully naked and Yoongi doesn’t know where to keep his eyes. The swells of your breasts, marked with bite marks and spit from his mouth, the curves of your stomach and waist as you climb atop him, predatory and eager, or the glistening slick of your thighs where you’re dripping for him.

“Come here,” he demands. He’s dying to have you on his tongue, knows you’ll taste saccharine. He grabs your thighs harder than necessary, zeroing in on your pussy as he pulls you toward his mouth. “Wanna fucking taste. Bet you’re fucking delicious.”

You hum in delight, a lethal smile on your face as you crawl up to where he wants you, knees firmly on either side of his head. Yoongi lets out an appreciative noise. Your cunt is sticky and glossy for him, the perfect meal.

With gentle fingers, he parts your folds gently to reveal your slick, clenching hole and needy clit. Yoongi is eager, a finger trailing up and down your warm slit as he lets out a moan.

“Fucking wet,” he whispers before leaning up for a long, slow lick.

Stars explode behind his eyes. He hums in delight, shivering at the taste of you, heady on his tongue. He repeats the motion a few times, flattening his tongue for a slow-drag, appreciative lick up your cunt. He feels the way you drip into his mouth, spill on his chin and he can’t help but curse, at how addictive this feels.

You moan when he dips his tongue into your entrance, gathering your essence on the tip of his tongue before he drags it soft-slow up to your clit, circling your bundle of nerves lazily. Yoongi pulls your clit into his mouth with gentle lips, feeling the way it pulses as he sucks gently.

The sounds you make above him spur him further. He alternates between sucking your clit delicately and butterfly-soft tongue flutters, watching your mouth go slack as you watch him. The more you drip into his eager mouth, the greedier Yoongi gets, fastening his entire mouth on you and sucking harshly.

It becomes sloppy and imprecise. Yoongi can’t decide where he wants his mouth most. He can’t remember ever feeling this lightheaded from oral, much less giving. But he’s starstruck under you, sucking and sucking and sucking – fuck he doesn’t know if he’s even taking breaths.

“Feels so fucking good,” you whisper, a hand going to knot in his hair. His scalp tingles pleasantly where you hold onto him, his eyes fluttering shut. Your hips move slowly over his face. “Fuck keep going.”

Pride swells in his chest. Your voice is airy, breaths short and stilted and overwhelmed as he eats you vigorously. His fingers dimple your skin, pressing into the meat of your ass as he rocks you on his tongue, jaw slack, tongue flat for you to let you fuck yourself on his face the way you want.

Yoongi feels you drip down his face, hears the wet-smack of his mouth against your cunt. He moans. Buries his face further, letting you grind yourself on his nose, chin, mouth lips, anything. He doesn’t care, sticky-coated to the jaw, so fucked out from pleasing you that he almost blacks out when you cum.

Something happens.

He doesn’t know how to describe it – it’s like for a moment, everything goes dark. Perhaps he does blackout. Perhaps he wasn’t breathing. He can’t remember. All he knows is that between one heartbeat and the next, there’s a moment of pure darkness accompanied by a laugh that chills his spine.

And then your mouth is on him, spit and cum making the glide of your mouths sticky-sweet.

Yoongi sucks your tongue into his mouth, pressing his fingers gently to the back of your head, pulling you closer closer closer. He just wants you closer, his stomach burning with a sudden hunger for you. He feels on fire, skin too-warm where your chest slides against his, sweaty and flushed.

Sheets stick to every part of him. He’s aware of the sweat that slides down his neck, a cool finger of relief as you press him further and further into the mattress. He feels like he’s sinking, entering a new domain where he’s no longer in his room – he's just with you. Somewhere. Anywhere.

Your fingers claw at his hair, pulling the strands to pin him to the mattress as you lift yourself, looking down at Yoongi. He blinks, stars in his eyes as he starts up at you, looming. Glowing. Beautiful. His hands are on your hips, a sparking current humming just beneath the surface of your skin.

You feel alive and vibrant.

A moan escapes Yoongi’s mouth, pleasure rolling through him as you grind your cunt on his throbbing cock, warm and wet. His eyes flutter, Yoongi squirming under you, legs kicking and twitching as you tease him. Just the glide of you on his shaft makes him shiver, the pit of his stomach clenching.

“Please,” Yoongi rasps. His fingers dig into your hips, begging. Pleading. Desperate. “Please please please please.”

“You look so pretty when you beg.” Your grinding increases and the room spins. His hands fall from your hips to the sheets, fingers fisted tightly in the fabric. “You’re so beautiful, Yoongi. My Yoongi. Mine. Mine mine mine.”

Your words are lost on him. There’s only the firm touch of your hand against his cock, gripped tight at the base as you lift yourself. He feels his cockhead catch on your swollen entrance and he lets out a strangled noise. He doesn’t know if he can stop himself from cumming. He is bursting at the seams with heat, an inferno so intense he swears that the world catches fire as you slide down his cock, warm and tight.

“Shiiit,” Yoongi hisses. He takes a deep breath and holds it, hips twitching where you straddle his waist, letting him suffer beneath you.

“Feels good.” You lean forward, hands pressed to his chest to support your weight. Yoongi’s eyes flutter open. He blinks at you through wet lashes. The room is so dark he can only make out the barest features on your face, but he sees your eyes clearly. Looking at him. Watching. Hungry. “So good,” you repeat. “So fucking deep.”

Nails bite into the skin of his chest. He feels his skin smart. The hot bead of blood that forms. He doesn’t care, watching as slowly, you lift your hips, your walls hugging every inch of Yoongi. He lets out a shaky breath, hands settling on your waist. He plants his feet in the bed, angling himself better as you reach the tip of his cock before sinking back down.

Heaven and hell. Yoongi wavers between both, gritting his teeth to keep from coming, to keep the feeling of you gripping him tight going. He doesn’t want it to end, it feels so good but it’s wonderful agony, fighting the curl in his stomach, the twitching of his abs, the threat of exploding.

Yoongi's eyes are drawn to where you fuck yourself on him, sticky arousal turning silver in the single shaft of moonlight that spills across the bed where you’re joined. He can’t look away, entranced by the wet smack of your ass on his thighs, the way you just fucking take him.

It lights a fire in him more intensely than the solar flare that threatens to send him spinning into his orgasm. Yoongi growls, digging his nails into your skin, half-moons on smooth flesh as he grits his teeth and fucks up into you. You gasp, nails raking down his chest as he jostles you. His breath comes out as stilted hisses behind clenched teeth.

“Touch yourself for me,” he grits out. “Wanna feel you come all over me – please.”

“Gonna,” you pant, head falling to his chest, claws leaving pink lines on pale flesh. You slide one hand down his body, making him groan as he fucks you with abandon. You gasp, hand working your clit between your writhing bodies. “Gonna come.”

“Please - for me.” He thrusts hard, thighs trembling with the effort, holding his breath as his muscles squeeze. He can feel you tense, pussy clenching so tight he curses and stops, letting you pulse around him as you moan and an unintelligible string of curses that sounds... like another language. “Fuck, just like that.”

Yoongi feels himself come apart. His universe shatters and he floats among the stars. Weightless. Happy. Tired. He feels nothing and everything, a soft frequency of... something dancing along his skin. A soft buzz. Pleasant and warm.

He doesn’t know how long he exists in that space. He can still smell notes of cedar, jasmine and amber. It's stronger now, with a touch of something else... something burning. He leans into the smell and it wraps around him, soft hands around his middle and petal-soft lips against his cheek.

Yoongi becomes vaguely aware that it’s you curled into his side, nose hidden in his neck, chest rising and falling against his arm. It grounds him a little. Brings him back into a dark room that is too obscure to be sure it’s his bedroom at all.

As he drifts off into sleep, he remembers the feeling of your tongue against his neck and nothing more.

Cedar. Jasmine. Amber.

It wakes Yoongi up. His stomach feels empty. His hands seek your warmth, palming your ass, pulling your hips flush to his. He doesn’t open his eyes, content to feel your heat. Again, something like electricity thrums under your skin, tickling his wandering hands.

Your mouth catches his. Pulls him further from sleep. He feels his skin ache from your teeth and nails the night before. Feels the weight of something inside of him that wasn’t there before, although he cannot put into words what it is.

Even in the morning, your mouth is sweet. Gluttonous. You suck his bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling softly followed by a light giggle. He smiles into the next kiss, sloppy and filled with too much tongue but he lets you taste him.

Yoongi swears there is an echo of your taste from the night before. It’s enough to kickstart desire in him, detaching his mouth to plant kisses down your neck. Chest. Stomach. His tongue licks a trail down your velvet skin.

In a shuffle of sheets and skin, you lay back for him, pliant. He’s awake now, pressing your thighs open, teeth nipping the tender flesh. You giggle and the sound makes him pause, lips pressed to your leg, eyes looking up at you in the dim light of the morning. Or night. It’s hard to tell what time it is, here with you in this bed.

Glowing eyes look at him. Round. Soft. Curious. You watch Yoongi with rapt attention, lip pulled between your teeth. Spread. Eager. Ethereal.

Yoongi drops his gaze, groaning when he sees how fucking wet you are. He pulls you closer, sliding a hand under your ass to provide support. Curious, he brushes his thumb up and down your folds, collecting your essence as he does.

“So swollen and wet,” he mumbles, morning voice deep and scratchy. “You’re always so ready to be eaten, hmm?”

You nod. “Please, Kitty.”

The new nickname makes him pause, thumb resting on your clit. He can almost feel your cunt throb under the pad of his finger as he applies a little pressure, watching you whine and kick your legs a bit. He grins.

“Kitty?” he asks as he resumes playing with you. His thumb dips into your hole, ring of muscles clenching around him. His grin spreads as he pulls it away, watching you fight with the loss.

“You have- ughhh – cat eyes. Pretty. Soft. Smart. Kitty.”

He hums, dipping his head forward to give you a single kitten lick. He shuts his eyes and sighs heavily, your taste heavy on his tongue. You taste just as good as the night before. “Cute,” he murmurs, more to himself. “I like it, baby.”

Yoongi doesn’t wait for a response. He presses in, tongue lapping at you hungrily, refusing to let you drip without his mouth for another moment.

Greedy.

You’re greedy. You always are. Yoongi isn’t sure what day it is. It might be the same night as when he brought you home or it could be the weekend or it could be next week. He somewhat remembers the taste of a meal. Some cool water. But he doesn’t recall when he made it or when he showered.

He only knows he showered because he smelled the mint soap on your skin a few moments ago when you had your mouth attached to his throat.

Now, your mouth swallows his cock whole, throat pulsing around him. He curses, fingers twisting in your hair as he listens to you choke. Feels your drool dripping down his thighs. You relent, pulling back with a slick sound. He looks down at you between half-moon eyes, lashes fluttering.

You’re a vision: bruised lips smeared in spit and cum, chin covered in slick, watery, round eyes that blink up at him, innocent despite the fact that you rub the flushed tip of his cock against your abused mouth.

“Fuck,” he swears, watching your devilish tongue snake out to lap at his dark tip. “Fucking cock hungry, huh?”

You nod your head, trailing your tongue along the bottom of his shaft, taking time to suck slopping kisses to his skin. He can’t look away, even as you pump him lazily with your small hand, ravenous little mouth sucking coyly at his balls.

His fist tights in your hair. You look up, tears spilling over rounded cheeks. You look angelic at that moment, weeping before him. He nearly busts right there.

“Does Kitty like when I do that?” You ask softly, voice almost a whisper. Your voice changes, he’s noticed. Sometimes coming out dark velvet, other times tangerine-sweet. “Am I a good girl, Kitty?”

You always call him that. He wasn’t sure about it at first, but with a mouth full of his precum and neck covered in his teeth marks, Yoongi thinks you can call him whatever the fuck you want. He’s never seen a creature so drunk off fucking him before and he’s no better. All he wants to do is fucking live in you.

“Such a good girl,” Yoongi promises. He holds your head with one hand and your chin with the other, pulling your bottom lip down with one thumb. His touch is soft and reverent. You preen for him, smiling around his thumb as he slips it in your mouth and presses on your tongue. Feels the spit and god knows what else there. “Come on, baby. Suck.”

And you do. Yoongi’s eyes roll back in his head. He falls backward on his bed and it feels like he has passed through a portal to somewhere else. He floats. All he knows is your mouth, unforgiving. Your tongue, sinful.

And when Yoongi comes down your throat, and when you pull off of him and smile at him with the slow drip of it, Yoongi feels like he’s in fucking heaven.

Monday he calls out of work.

Crunching numbers at an accounting firm seems like hell in comparison to where he is now. You’re bent over the kitchen counter, drooling on the granite as he slowly drags his cock through your drenched heat. He ignores the spilled glass of water next to you. Instead, he watches himself disappear deep into your cunt, collecting cream on the base of his cock every time he pulls out.

Yoongi senses you looking at him. You are, eyes intense and heavy. Your gaze shifts so often he can barely keep up – thinks maybe he imagines the way you go from soft, round-eyed sweetheart to a siren-eyed vixen.

It’s the vixen look at him now. And as though you can read his mind, you slick your tongue out of your mouth, bubble gum pink and eager, eyes dragging down to where he works himself in and out.

Yoongi pulls out slowly, running a finger along your arousal smeared along his shaft, and leans forward, thrusting in hard. You pant, tongue still out and eyes focused on his as Yoongi delicately places his cum-slick finger in your mouth. Presses your cream on your tongue.

Your lips close around his finger, tongue swirling around the digit as you shut your eyes and hollow your cheek, gently sucking your arousal until there’s nothing left.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispers, in awe of you.

And you are. There’s nothing you won’t do for him. Nothing Yoongi won’t do for you. So he slams into you, deep deep deep, and grunts until you’re coming around him for what feels like the hundredth time since he’s met you.

Yoongi startles awake. He blinks away a dream that he immediately cannot remember. His skin is clammy and his sheets stick to him all over. He kicks them off, heart hammering as he jumps to his feet, trying to get away from the bed.

He doesn’t know why, but he feels danger near him with every slam of his heart.

For a few moments, he’s in total darkness. He can’t make out the shape of his dresser. Or the pile of clothes in the hamper. He can’t see any light filtering through the window. He knows there’s a streetlight out there – why isn’t the light streaming through his curtains?

Panic threatens to seize him. He takes a deep breath and presses the heels of his palms to his eyes, rubbing fiercely. He opens them, bursts of starlight blinding him until they fade finally and he can see.

There’s a shadow in front of him, all razor teeth and red eyes.

Yoongi screams, flinching backward. He topples over and feels weightless like he’s falling through time and space. The moment of fear stretches out long – too long – and for a second he thinks he will die. His heart is beating too hard in his chest, his mind is screaming too loud, and the adrenaline threatens to crack him open and spill out on the floor.

He hits the curtain behind him and fists the fabric, ripping the entire rod and holders down backward as he goes. Streetlight pours into the room. He thrashes, blind and screaming among the now ruined curtains, the curtain rod, and drywall dust.

Yoongi frees himself, grabbing the rod to defend himself against the creature in a last-ditch effort to live.

Grey light saturates the room. There’s no shadow creature with teeth and red eyes. There’s just you in the middle of his bed, the reflection of the street light turning your doe-eyes to glowing coins. You’re in a t-shirt of his, soft and crinkled, hair messy. Lip trembling.

“Kitty?” Your voice is small. Almost childlike. “Kitty are you okay?”

The panic beat of his heart slows. He swallows down nausea and realizes his shaking, the remaining waves of adrenaline taking their toll. Yoongi lets go of the curtain rod and nods, pressing his head into the wall.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps. Throat dry. You move on the bed – more of a prowl – and you flick the lamp light on. Warmth rushes into the room and with it, relief. “Thank you.”

“What happened, Kitty?”

“A nightmare. I got up and … I don’t know. I thought I saw something.”

You sit on your knees. Hands in your lap, one palm splayed on your thigh, the other lifted toward him. Beckoning. Open. Warm. Safe. He peels himself from the wreckage by the window and walks toward you, feeling as though there is a string between you and him, tethering you to him. Reeling him in.

When Yoongi’s hand touches yours, exhaustion bleeds into him. Safe. He is safe. You smile and there are no razor teeth. Just kiss-stained lips as you shuffle backward, pulling Yoongi back into the bed.

“Come sleep, Kitty.”

“Okay.”

Carefully, he turns off the lamp. The streetlight floods his room now, but it’s comforting, the grey wash of the world enough that he can see anything creeping in the shadows.

Eventually, he falls back asleep with the slow drag of your hand back and forth across his forehead, and your mouth pressing gentle sucks to the side of his throat.

“Where are you going?”

Yoongi almost smiles at the pout on your face. You stand in his kitchen, brows pinched, mouth furious. You’re in another one of his shirts – there is nothing else for you to wear. His grin spreads as he comes around the counter, placing his messenger bag down.

Somehow you seem so much smaller in the daylight. Yoongi swears when you’re riding him in the early hours of the morning or when he has you on all fours fucking you deep into his mattress, you’re a force to be reckoned with. A fierce creature feeds on carnal pleasure only.

But now in the light of day, with your bottom lip jutting out and scowling brows, Yoongi thinks there is nothing more adorable. His perfect baby. You reach out, opening and closing your hands and he laughs.

“Work,” he answers gently, pulling you toward him. You don’t fight him. You never fight him. Yoongi is always your top priority – you’ve made that obvious. He smells the cedar. Jasmine. Amber. His head swims and for a moment, he forgot what you asked.

Moments like this with your skin touching, that high-frequency current that is unfamiliar but feels so good – Yoongi forgets himself. Every time he touches you, he’s somewhere else.

His phone rings and he remembers he’s supposed to leave. “I have work.”

Your scowl gets worse. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I want to be with you.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. When he pulls away, you’re almost snarling, gripping him like iron. He sighs and squeezes your hips for reassurance. “I’ll leave a little early, yeah? For you.”

“Do you promise?”

“Of course, I promise.” Your lip wobbles and he leans forward again, nipping you. “Get some sleep. You woke me up very early this morning, hmm?”

You don’t answer, but you loosen your grip.

When he gets in the car, he sees the curtain in his living room shift and he grins. Cute.

Work drags. Yoongi’s in a bad mood. His coffee is extra bitter. The water tastes off. The fluorescents in his office are too bright, prompting him to turn them off. When he begins auditing his client’s monthly spending, the numbers swim on screen.

Yoongi takes his glasses off. Puts them back on. He swears that he sees symbols and that the screen glitches, flashing between letters and numbers and… something he’s unsure of. When he rubs his eyes, the screen is just numbers in an Excel sheet.

Sighing in defeat, he glances at the clock. It’s only been an hour.

“Fuck.”

He pulls his phone out, thumb hovering over the screen. Your contact information is in his phone, right? The silence in his office is deafening. It presses in on him as he stares at his phone, unseeing. Why didn’t he have your phone number? Shouldn’t a boyfriend have their-

A knock at the door startles him. He drops his phone, mumbling an apology as he bends down to get it before righting himself and looking at his director.

“How are you feeling?”

Yoongi shrugs. “A little off.”

And… it’s true. Yoongi’s head hurts suddenly, a migraine slamming on the confines of his skull. His too-bitter coffee burns in his stomach. The back of his neck feels too hot and his hands shake as he puts his phone on his desk.

“You don’t look too well. Maybe take the day?”

Yoongi nods. Sways a little when he stands up to retrieve his things and turns his computer off. On the drive home, the headache recedes a little. He grips the wheel tight, taking deep breaths as he tries to steady the feeling in the pit of his stomach.

In the drive, Yoongi takes a deep breath. The pressure in his head is gone and his stomach doesn’t feel as rotten as it did twenty minutes ago. He makes a mental note to look up his symptoms when he gets inside – perhaps he has the flu. It won’t do to feel this way before his client’s quarterly financial reports are due.

Thankfully, when Yoongi steps into his house, he feels much better.

Feels fine as he drops to his knees in the entryway, tongue buried hungrily in your cunt as he presses you hard against the door, drinking in every drop. Above him, you tremble and cry, begging him never to leave again.

When you cum on his tongue, creamsicle sweet, he thinks he never will.

Pain shoots up Yoongi’s foot as he stubs his toe making his way to the bathroom. He can barely see in his room now that he has fixed the curtains – and put blackout ones at your request – and the floor is covered with his shoes and chargers and boxes of snacks you keep in his bedroom like a nest.

He has never in his life seen someone with an appetite for junk food like you – especially sweets.

Yoongi opens the bathroom, the gentle, white glow of the night light casting a dull halo against the whitewash walls. He glances in the mirror and his heart launches into his throat. His hand slams against the door for balance and a moment of terror bleeds him dry when he sees the shadow behind him, white teeth flashing and red eyes.

Whirling around, Yoongi’s hand shoots for the light, painfully jamming fingers against stucco. He manages to flip the switch while his heart pulses in his throat, terror working its way through him like an injection straight into his cardiovascular system.

Light spills into the room, so bright that he flinches, closing his eyes for a second. When he opens them, there’s nothing. It’s just his messy room, covered in clothes, empty and half-full bottles of lube, a generous amount of junk food, and you.

Asleep. Soft against his pillows, lips parted slightly.

Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Yoongi chastises himself and shuts the bathroom door. A few splashes of cold water from the tap do the trick, calming him down and cooling the red splotches of anxiety blooming on his neck.

When he returns to bed, your hands seek his warmth, making grabbing motions even in sleep. He indulges you, sliding closer. Tucking you into his chest. You hum in your sleep, that vibrating feeling that lives just under your skin ever-present.

Gently you lean forward, mouth seeking as you press your lips against the soft spot under his ear. He shivers as the innocent kiss turns into a soft suckle, pulling skin between teeth your tongue pressed against his flesh. But you don’t wake up. You seem content to lay in his arms with the gentle pull of your mouth against his skin, smelling like cedar. Jasmine. Amber.

And he falls asleep, moment of terror forgotten.

Yoongi has a problem.

Time management was always one of his strong suits. As someone who lived an organized little life in an organized little home, he thrived on order, repetition of days, and knowing what to expect each day.

Except now Yoongi never remembers what day it is. He hardly remembers how he spends his day. But what he does remember are moments with you. Bodies against bodies. The press of his fingers in your sticky cunt. Your curious fingers, pressing into the tight rim of his ass, pulling out orgasms so deep that it takes him hours to move.

Now, you’re pressed against him on the couch, eyes fixed on the TV. He watches you and you watch the screen, completely focused on the world of Spirited Away. His lips twitch in a smile and he yawns. You snuggle closer to him, nearly attached. It’s second nature to you, to fasten yourself to him. He doesn’t mind, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

When Yoongi’s phone rings, it interrupts everything. You immediately hiss, looking toward the ringing device on the counter. He can’t remember the last time his phone rang but he begins to lift himself off of the couch.

Your fingers dig in. “Finish the movie.”

It’s a demand. He laughs as your brow pinches. “I’ll be right back, let me just see who it is.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why don’t you want to watch the movie with me?”

Your voice has grown small again. Not the sultry purr he is used to in the middle of the night when you mouth at his cock, hard before he’s even awake. Not the demanding crack of a whip when you order him to come.

This voice is tiny, a soft thing that immediately draws him to look at you. He cradles your face, your big eyes looking at him with tears rimming them. His stomach drops and he hushes you, thumbs brushing back and forth.

“Fuck – baby why are you crying?”

“Why don’t you want to watch the movie, Kitty?”

“Hey, Kitty wants to watch the movie.” He croons and you pull yourself into his lap, arms going around his neck and winding in his hair. He keeps a soft grip on your face, eyes searching. That thrum is just beneath the surface, like a beating heart. “I just have to answer the phone, baby. I still want to watch the movie.”

You shake your head. “You don’t.”

“Of course I do.”

It isn’t often that Yoongi upsets you. He vaguely recalls one time when he left for work, you had been a bit sad. But ever since he’d started working from home – wait, he works from home? He shakes the question from his thoughts, saving it for later.

It isn’t often that Yoongi upsets you. He vaguely recalls one time when he left for work, you had been a bit sad. And now you sit on his lap and he hates himself for the way a tear slips down your face, turned into a diamond from the reflection of the TV.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, heart aching in his chest. He leans back. He pulls you flush against his chest. You tuck your face in his neck, your favorite spot to nuzzle and he feels the gentle tuck of your mouth, the tiny suckle of your teeth against his neck. Your comfort.

It isn’t often that Yoongi upsets you. He vaguely -

He doesn’t remember. What was he thinking about? He doesn’t know.

Yoongi loops his arms around you and squeezes you tight. And his eyes flutter shut, suddenly tired and lulled to sleep by the gentle pull of your mouth on his skin.

“Come look at this cat,” Yoongi laughs, crouching down on the back porch. The tabby rubs itself between his legs, purring as it twists figure eights. “It’s so friendly, baby. Come say hi.”

Night sky stretches over the city. It’s colder outside – almost Halloween, maybe. Yoongi lost the calendar in his house and he only turns the computer on if he has to sign on for work, which he rarely does these days.

You peek from the door, looking at the cat rubbing its face on Yoongi’s hand. He looks up at you and smiles. You’re swimming in a sweater of his, though your legs are bare. His mouth waters at the thought of tasting you again – he can’t ever get enough, licking the sweetness from between your thighs only to finish by fucking himself into you until he blacks out.

The blackouts happen more after sex now.

“He’s sweet,” Yoongi promises, holding out another hand to you. “Like you.”

Tentatively, you step outside of the door. The floorboard creaks under your step, drawing the cat’s attention. It happens so fast that Yoongi falls from his crouched position, sitting abruptly on the floor. The cat lets out a terrible sound, somewhere between a horrible yowl and a hair-raising hiss.

A blur of claws and teeth, Yoongi yells as the sharp talons catch him, letting the cat go. It becomes a streak of fur and screeching, vanishing from the yard.

You rush to him, dropping down to hold his scratched hands, blood surfacing.

“No!” You look up at him, holding his hand gently to your chest. He feels the strange hum, the heartbeat that… isn’t a beating heart as much as a constant buzz. “Are you okay, Kitty? You’re hurt.”

“It’s okay.” He smiles. The fear in your eyes is heartwarming. You love him – he knows this. He feels it. “Sorry it startled you.”

Autumn sun beats down on Yoongi as he goes to peel logs from the stack of firewood in the backyard. As he jogs down the steps, he slows, frowning. There’s a dead tabby at the foot of the stairs, broken body and dark blood smeared underneath.

“Weird,” he mutters, rushing to get some firewood. “I’ve never seen cats here before. Poor thing.”

When he goes back inside the house, he sees you sitting on the counter. Spread. Finger tracing up and down glistening folds, swollen cunt begging for his mouth. Yoongi drops the wood. He zeros in, licking his lips as you spread your legs a little wider.

“What a perfect fucking pussy,” Yoongi grins. “That for me?”

You nod. “Please, Kitty.”

Yoongi forgets about the dead cat.

“I want candy.” Yoongi looks up at you, brows raised. You’re standing in the middle of the aisle at the grocery store, chewing your bottom lip as you look at him with hopeful eyes. Yoongi immediately softens. Feels his heart flutter. “Is that okay?”

“Sure.” He looks up at the aisle names. “It’s three aisles over. Can you get what you want while I go back and get milk? I forgot.”

You hesitate for a moment, a moment of fear on your face. Before he can brush away your fears with a simple kiss, you take a deep breath and give him your bravest smile. He preens, proud as you give a confident nod and dart off in the direction of candy.

Yoongi is impressed by you. Leaving the house is hard for you – always has been. The two of you mostly stay inside, locked in your little world. Yoongi likes it that way. Loves knowing after dinner you’ll be nested on the couch, watching him with inquisitive eyes and asking him to put on a new show or to continue the anime you’ve been binging.

Every new experience for you brings stars to your eyes. He loves that about you – loves the way you go awestruck while watching old anime that Yoongi adores, or the way you hum and spin in circles to music he shows you.

Yoongi remembers hearing once that people live many lives. He thinks that if that’s true, you must be in your first life, curious about everything. Surprised by the world. And he gets to watch it over and over, the way you grin when something startles you or when you furiously pout because you don’t like something.

Grocery store trips are new for you. The first time, you’d been stitched to his side, refusing to separate from him. Cagey and flashing mean eyes at everyone. Now, though, Yoongi doesn’t worry as he pulls open one of the glass doors in the cold section, looking for milk.

“Yoongi?” He turns mid-reach for a carton of milk, the cold air hitting him in the face and turning his cheeks pink, glass frosting with the humidity rushing into the fridge. Taehyung is standing behind him, hands shoved into pockets. “Holy shit it is you.”

Yoongi gives Taehyung a funny smile, pulling the milk from the fridge and adding it to his cart. “Why wouldn’t it be? How are you?”

“Dude, how are you? You don’t answer anyone’s calls, I heard you started working at home from some sort of illness, and you refuse to answer your door when we come by.” Taehyung’s face is picture-perfect concern, brown eyes fixed on Yoongi, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. “Why can’t you tell us what’s going on? It’s been weeks.”

“What are you talking about? I talked to you two weeks ago.”

Taehyung cocks his head. His brows furrow and an unsettling feeling flips Yoongi’s stomach. He remembers the call exactly. Recites their conversation back to Taehyung, but before Yoongi can finish, his friend is shaking his head.

“We never had that conversation, Yoongi.”

Taehyung takes a step closer. Yoongi’s heart starts pounding. He remembers talking to Taehyung. He had been standing in the kitchen when his phone rang, and you had handed him his phone. Yoongi remembers because he had been half-paying attention to the conversation, transfixed by the way your eyes caught the light and the way you watched him catch up with Taehyung.

But… another thought swirls in Yoongi’s mind. A vision of you slamming the phone down on the counter, shattering it. Yoongi begging you to stop – stop something – and then your soft lips on him.

He shakes his head, setting the thoughts free.

“What’s going on?” Taehyung asks, moving past his cart to get closer. Yoongi backs up. He doesn’t know why, but it’s automatic. He feels panic surge as Taehyung pauses. “Are you sick or-“

Maybe he is. Yoongi knows he talked to Taehyung and yet… doubt wiggles into his mind. Eats at it like a worm. There feels like there is a box somewhere tucked in the recesses of his memory, shielded and without a key. If he applies pressure on it, he gets a headache.

Licking his lips, Yoongi places his trembling hands on the cart. Looks at Taehyung. Sees the pleading in his friend’s eyes. Yoongi opens his mouth to ask when Taehyung thinks they last spoke and -

“Kitty?”

Your soft voice cuts the anxiety in half. Yoongi’s thoughts ease as you appear a few feet away from them, bags of candy in hand. Your doll face morphs into unease when you look at Taehyung. Yoongi wonders why that is – you’ve talked to Taehyung plenty of times. You encourage Yoongi to call him.

“You?” Taehyung asks. The vehemence in his voice startles Yoongi. “You’re still around? Jesus Yoongi, have you been shacked up with some girl you met at a bar this entire time?”

Words have consequences. Taehyung’s immediately has an effect, your expression going from soft and sweet to something that makes Yoongi’s hands grip the push-bar on the cart tightly.

“He has nothing to do with it.” Your voice is a layered hiss. A tingle slides down Yoongi’s neck – familiar and dangerous. He has the sudden urge to bolt, but his feet are rooted to the ground as you advance, putting yourself between the two men. “Yoongi hasn’t been feeling well. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“I’m one of his best friends!”

Taehyung is one of his best friends. And Jimin. And Seokjin. Yoongi remembers sitting on a stool at Serendipity, listening to Old Ass Han tell him some superstition about female demons who snatched one of his sons in the middle of the night. Jimin had laughed so hard and made Old Ass Han so mad that Jimin covered his tab for the night.

It was such a funny memory that the next Halloween, Jimin had dressed up as a sultry, female demon. Yoongi vaguely recalls laughing with them into the night, especially when Jimin picked up a guy to go home with that night.

Yoongi is full of those memories – at least he was. He thinks he is.

The little place in his mind that feels inaccessible cracks a little and Yoongi winces, a headache splitting him open. He clutches his temple as a bolt of pain lances through his skull. Then your hands are on him, gentle and cradling his face. You’re saying something but he can’t hear you over the high-pitched ringing in his ears.

Colors dance across his vision as Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, trying to pant through the pain. The pain doesn’t come from that tiny little box in his mind – it comes from somewhere else. Pulling him away from whatever is hidden there, in that dark little forgotten corner.

Suddenly, it becomes too much and darkness swallows him whole.

The last thing Yoongi remembers is the gentle kiss of your mouth on his neck.

Yoongi has a problem.

He’s getting headaches all the time. Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night with them, sharp pain digging behind his eyes. It always worsens when he tries to recall the dreams he has before he wakes up – he knows he has dreams. They’re on the tip of his tongue. But the more he thinks about them, the more he tries to draw up what he imagined, the more the pain grows.

The bed sinks as you crawl in next to him. It’s too hot in bed. Sheets cling to Yoongi’s skin. He feels like there’s a furnace under the mattress, burning through and making everything sweaty and sticky. He shifts a little away from you – your body is always warm, skin heated with the thrum of energy beneath the surface.

Cedar. Jasmine. Amber. Your scent swells as you tuck yourself close to him. Not touching, but Yoongi can sense you there, an awareness tingling along his skin. It’s happened a few times, where a second awareness blinks an eye open and Yoongi feels on edge. Like there is suddenly an instinct inside of him that has awakened, one he is unfamiliar with.

That awareness yawns. Blooms at the back of his mind, where that same throbbing ache has settled. Yoongi tries to steady his breathing, but he can feel his pulse against his pillow, thumping faster and faster as your cloying scent muddles his thoughts.

You don’t say anything. You don’t reach out and touch him. You just lay there, silent and omnipresent. Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, and for the first time in a very long time, he wishes that you would go to the other room and watch TV. You love watching TV. Sometimes he finds you sitting in front of it on the floor, knees tucked to your chest, chin on top of your knees while you watch a variety of shows.

Though it seems you have settled on Tokyo Ghoul as your favorite.

“Kitty?” you whisper. He holds his breath. Perhaps if he pretends he is asleep, you’ll go to sleep too. Long beats of silence stretch between you, filled only with the sound of Yoongi’s measured breathing. “I’m sorry.”

He pauses. “Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

Yoongi swallows past a knot in his throat. Every muscle in his body is clenching. His fingers are fisted in his blankets, and he’s curled into a ball. He doesn’t remember feeling so braced. He tries to relax, letting himself melt in the bed a little.

“For what?”

“You… need space.”

He doesn’t need to turn around to hear the tremble in your voice. You sniffle a little. The lamp on his bed flickers, catching his attention. He watches the flicker of the bulb as you cry softly behind him. He wants to turn around – wants to gather you in his arms and tuck you into his chest and yet… he doesn’t.

“A little,” Yoongi admits softly.

“Okay.”

Licking his lips, Yoongi steels himself. He rolls over in bed to look at you. You’re buried in one of his hoodies and the blanket he likes to sleep with on the couch. He can barely make out your cherubic face. Your round eyes blink at him, pools of light in the darkness of the hoodie and blanket.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Okay.”

He softens. It’s not so warm in the bed anymore, so he reaches across the space, finding your hand clutched in the blanket. You let him pry your fingers open and he traces your palm. “Just a little space, okay? I can sleep on the couch tonight.”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Baby-“

“I’m not tired.”

Your voice is firm. He knows that voice – it’s the one that precedes a tantrum if he’s not careful. He nods, pulling a hand away and sighing, closing his eyes. He is tired. He realizes just how tired he is.

“Good night, Kitty.”

Most days it’s easier to placate you.

Yoongi feels like he is worn at the edges. Hot water runs down his neck, his back. Relieves a deep ache that has begun to grow on his bones, pained turned lichen. He feels like a watercolor painting with too much liquid medium, running at the edges and blurring across a once-beautiful canvas.

Sleep comes every night, but Yoongi still wakes up tired. He misses meetings even though he has been working from home for… however long. He doesn’t know where his cell phone is. He lost it somewhere in the house – doesn’t need it much.

Water drips onto the floor as he steps out of the shower. He watches it run down milky legs, soaking into the towel. Steam permeates the air and slicks across the mirror, Yoongi’s reflection as opaque and bleary as he feels.

Yoongi heaves a heavy yawn, wiping a hand across the steam in preparation to shave. When his eyes look up at the three-paneled mirror, a shadowed creature with rows of gnashing teeth and red eyes is behind him.

A scream rips its way out of his throat, the terror is so awful that Yoongi’s knees buckles. He hits the tile hard, head smacking the cabinet. His world explodes into color as he blinks the stars from his eyes, scrambling with damp legs, slipping uselessly on the steamed tile as he backs himself into the corner of the wall and sink.

There’s nothing there. Just an open doorway.

For a few seconds, it’s just Yoongi’s heart pounding so hard that his stomach roils. He fumbles for the toilet, flipping the lid and rolling to his knees to heave the contents of dinner into the bowl. He gasps for air, stinging his vomit-burned throat as he throws up again. Stomach-churning. Lungs screaming.

When he flushes and settles against the bathtub, he hears the TV in the living room. Cool air drifts in from his bedroom. He closes his eyes and takes in deep breaths, counting in for seven and out for seven. There’s the soft patter of your feet on the carpet, and he can sense you in the doorway.

His spine always tingles when you’re around.

“Kitty? Are you okay?”

“Don’t feel good.”

“Oh kitty,” you whisper. He keeps his eyes closed. You slide closer to him and your hands are warm. When they touch his face, he feels a little energy pour back into him and he opens his eyes. You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, still. “I’m sorry.”

“Why sorry?”

You chew on your lip. “I’m sorry.”

It feels like you say that a lot these days. Yoongi nods his head and closes his eyes again as you lean forward and press yourself to his side, giving him a gentle kiss.

The headache is bad. But he has to know. Lays in his bed writhing in the sheets.

Ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts.

Memories crack across his mind, each one hurting more than the last.

A creature of shadow. Blacking out after sex. A dead cat that hadn’t always been dead. Your innocent eyes. Your angry eyes. You smashing his phone to pieces. A doctor forging him a medical note. Blood on your hands and face as you came out of the doctor’s office.

For the first time in a long time, Yoongi has energy. He feels more himself. Clearer. He gets up early in the morning and makes himself coffee. He sees you lurking near the fridge, throwing him wary glances. You’re a little more worn than usual: sallow cheeks, bags under your eyes. Your eyes are as starry.

When he asks you what’s wrong, you don’t answer. You duck into the bedroom and shut the door firmly behind you. He stares, a little confused and hurt before sighing. You’re touchy sometimes, and on the days like this where you’re more like a feral cat than a preening girlfriend, he knows to keep his distance.

Yoongi shrugs and tosses the sugar packet in the trash, frowning. There are empty bottoms of foam that are stained red - meat packages, he realizes. He doesn’t recall having steak at all this week, but perhaps you’re thawing it in the fridge for dinner.

He shrugs and goes to his office, leaving you to your devices.

A morning meeting kickstarts his day, and Yoongi forgets about it.

Yoongi has a problem.

You’re worse. You don’t want to come out of his room and you won’t go near the light. There are harsh lines around your eyes and he swears your teeth are sharper. More lethal. You won’t sleep in the same bed as he is.

Worst of all? Yoongi feels great. Feels like perhaps it was just a depressive episode he was in. He no longer feels like he is melted together at the edges, barely hanging on. But it does mean that he’s getting frustrated with you.

“Feral,” he mutters as he walks into his office after you snarled at him and then proceeded to cry because you wanted him to take the day off. “Sometimes I swear she is feral.”

Soft lips wake Yoongi up in the middle of the night. He stirs, feeling a tingle run down his spine. He can smell cedar, jasmine and amber and smiles. You’re pressed against him, mouth seeking his delicately, though there is some urgency behind your kisses.

Yoongi opens his mouth to you, an invitation. You suck his tongue into your mouth greedily and arousal shoots to his cock, your mouth doing wonders on his tongue. Fuck he knows you like to suck him off like that too, all greedy and sloppy and spit-slicked.

Your hands pull at his shirt and you kiss him with more fervor, lips becoming teeth, moans becoming hisses. When Yoongi rolls onto his back, pulling your hips on top of him, the dynamic changes.

A gasp escapes his kiss-bruised lips, eyes flying open as you mark his throat. Harsh stings of teeth followed quickly by lavish licks of your tongue. It’s messy and you leave a trail of spit dripping down his neck, making him squirm underneath you, cock tight against his pajama shorts.

“Fuck,” he moans when you suck that spot under his ear he loves. “Greedy devil.”

“Yes,” you shoot back, voice firm. Your hands seek his, pulling them from where they massage your ass to pin them above his head, your grip iron. “Please.”

There’s no way she’s human.

Taehyung’s words flash through Yoongi’s mind when he looks up at you. Your pupils are dilated, two black disks that absorb the barest hint of light in the room. He shivers, afraid of falling into your dark eyes and never finding his way back home.

Have your eyes always been that soulless? No, he thinks.

“Please,” you say again. “Please let me have you.”

He frowns. “You can always have me.”

You shake your head. “Not always. Too much. I take… I take too much. But now not enough. I just…” Your lip trembles and where you hold his wrist begins to ache. He whimpers and you hush him, your fingers loosening a little. “I just need some. Not a lot.”

It’s hard to understand what you’re asking for. Yoongi is lost in the sensation of fluttering in his stomach and the way blood rushes through his body. He feels high when you dip one of your hands below the waistband of his pajamas, taking a hold of his cock in your hand, thumb brushing precum from the tip.

You always take care of Yoongi. His eyes flutter shut as he feels a steady static build in his brain. Your touch is careful but deliberate, each stroke of your hand and squeeze of his shaft sending him spinning. His hips twitch under you.

When you shift down his body, he lifts his lower half off the bed, kicking at the sheets and letting you tug his bottoms down. He’s shaking and eager, unable to look down at you when you take him fully in your hand, tongue tasting the stickiness at his tip.

“Fuck,” he whispers. His hands are still above him, twisted in the pillowcase. He leaves them there, helpless as you tongue the head of his dick before sucking it into your mouth. Your tongue is gentle and your mouth is warm, the barest of sucks making him whine. “Don’t tease me.”

You hum and the vibrations make him speechless. His head rolls to the side, mouth parted, panting as he sees stars. You suck him eagerly, messily. He hears the wet pull of your mouth, the choked cough of your throat when you take him in deep and swallow.

Gentle nails scratch down his legs. He feels like he’s disconnected from the rest of the world, a single strand tethering him as he floats. He babbles as you take him in deep, a hand reaching down below his balls, a single, shy finger pressing against his tight rim.

Everything inside of Yoongi goes taught. He comes immediately and without warning. Spills in your mouth and the world fades away. There is nothing where he goes. No memories, no thoughts, no anxiety. It’s just Yoongi and he feels good – the kind of warm from a bubble bath laden with creams and salts.

Eventually, he comes back down. Opening his eyes, Yoongi sees you blink down at him. You smile, brushing light finger strokes over flushed cheeks. He grins up at you, elated. Hypnotized. You’re so… he doesn’t know the word.

There’s no way she’s human.

That phrase makes Yoongi’s smile falter. You are exquisite. Shrouded in darkness. Yoongi feels the press of unfamiliar air. When he looks beyond you, there’s just darkness. There is nothing. No light streams in from the window again. There is no soft hum of the nightlight in the bathroom where he usually leaves the door open now.

It’s just you.

Yoongi’s heart begins to speed up, panic rising.

You kiss him softly. It’s sweet and his anxiety melts away. Feels the weight of you on your hips, wet pussy dripping on his thigh. You’re being patient, which surprises him. Usually by now you’re needy, grinding your cunt on his thigh to seek friction.

“I want more,” you whisper against his mouth, fingers pressed into his cheeks. “Will you give me more?”

He nods. You lick his mouth, sighing contentedly as you roll your hips on his thigh. He moans, feeling the glide of your bare folds against his leg. You are always so ready for him, eager to take him. Easy to please. Excited to take what you want.

Shaking above him, you bury your face in his neck. Yoongi slides his hands from their position above his head, resting one hand on your thigh and sliding the other between your legs. Sticky arousal greets him, his fingers brushing up and down your cunt as you stop grinding, letting him take control.

“Kitty,” you beg, words muffle in his neck. He grins, eyes half-lidded as he plays with you. “Please, Kitty.”

Yoongi sinks two fingers in your greedy hole, feeling the way your walls flutter around him. It doesn’t matter how many times he buries his fingers, cock or tongue in you – every time is divine. Feels like something holy, taking him somewhere else.

“Fuck yourself on my fingers,” he murmurs, pressing a thumb to your clit. “Come on, baby. Wanna see you make a mess on my hands first.”

“Want your cock.”

“Fingers first, baby. Come on, you can do it.”

A growl rips through your frame. Yoongi stills under you for a moment, heart skipping. But then you move your hips and he hears your soft breath. Feels the drip down his hand. He grins, feeling you swallow his fingers as you work yourself on him, his thumb circling your clit lazily.

Nails dig into his thighs as you lean backward, spreading yourself for him. He can barely make out your figure in the darkness, but he can see the swell of your chest, the line of your neck as you toss your head back, his name falling from flushed lips and floating up to the ceiling.

When you come, it’s wet and loud. He hums, pulling drenched fingers from your legs. He surges forward, surprising you and moving you backward, letting your head bounce near the foot of the bed as he cages you in, stealing a kiss.

You wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging and whining and rubbing against his thigh again, begging sweetly. No one has ever wanted Yoongi the way you do. Ever. He cannot recall a single time someone has been as vigorous in their pursuit.

It makes him hard again, the rush in his veins igniting once more as he slides into you. He pushes in to the hilt, settling there for a moment. You clench around him, clawing at the back of his neck and thrashing under him. Begging for more. Always wanting more. Swearing you just need a little more.

Yoongi sets a slow pace, stroking deep with a purpose. You gasp every time he fucks all the way into you. He grins against your sweaty neck, tongue licking a stripe up your salty skin. You turn your face and catch his mouth with yours, swapping more spit than kissing, moaning into one another’s mouths.

An orgasm winds tightly in Yoongi’s stomach. He feels it at the base of his spine this time, a second sense tingling as he picks up speed, slamming into you until you’re crying under him, babbling again in something that sounds like a language but isn’t quite.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck –“ He grits his teeth and the moment he comes, you squeeze him like a vice, shouting and pulling him into an orgasm so hard that he feels himself fall on top of you, the energy leaving him as quickly as his orgasm had gathered.

At some point, he falls asleep.

Hell on earth is waking up battered and torn at the seams. You’re out in the living room, enjoying an early morning episode of Tokyo Ghoul again. He hears you giggle at the TV and he lifts his head in the shower. The rush of the hot water is loud, but the sound of you laughing is in his head.

It always feels like you’re in his head.

Yoongi stumbles when he gets out of the shower. His feet are heavy and there is pain behind his eyes. The throbbing kind that makes him turn the lights out and shoot a text to work telling them he needs a sick day. How many sick days has he had this year? He has no idea.

Yoongi stumbles to the mattress and collapses into the sheets. Everything feels heavy like he is made of glass bones with the weight of the world threatening to break him.

Sleep comes and goes. It doesn’t make him less tired. Yoongi places a hand on his forehead. He is not over-warm, but he wants to cry, the ache in every muscle so real that it takes him several tries to say your name.

You appear immediately, hovering at the edge of the bed in his hoodie, wrapped in a blanket.

“Are you feeling sick, Kitty?” He nods and you sniff. “I’m so sorry, Kitty… do you want some water?”

Yoongi nods again and you vanish. He rolls onto his back, groaning. He reaches for his phone. The screen is cracked from some incident or another, but it’s mildly legible as he searches his symptoms online.

When you come back with water, he thanks you with a sweet kiss and smiles when you lick his nose affectionately before darting out of the room again. He hears the show start again.

Carefully, Yoongi tries to sit up a bit. The water is cooled with two cubes – just the way he likes it – and it helps staunch the thirst. He drains the entire glass, but still, he aches with exhaustion that has no name.

Every combination he can think of brings Yoongi undesirable results. He has the fatigue of many different illnesses, but not any of the others. Mono seems the most likely, but still, it doesn’t feel right.

Yoongi considers and then types a new search: constant exhaustion after sex.

The results make him roll his eyes. He knows he’s going to get several ads for erectile dysfunction medication, but he scrolls anyways. Maybe he’s just fucking you that hard. But he does remember blacking out after sex and… well he never feels great the next day.

Slowly tapping through pages, Yoongi sighs. There’s nothing that provides much thought beyond Yoongi knowing he’s had too much sex. You’re a starving little thing, constantly wanting –

A word catches his attention: succubus.

Yoongi snorts when he opens the article. It’s a weird string of evangelical stories and musings, and overly sexualized depictions of female demons with generous breasts, shapely figures, and cute little bat wings.

The succubus needs sexual desire and energy to survive. He scoffs and wonders what heterosexual male wrote that dream.

Repeated sexual activity with a succubus will result in a bond being formed between the succubus and the host.

“Romantic,” Yoongi deadpans, scrolling up to close out the article. But a drawing catches Yoongi’s eye - a shadowy figure with rows and rows of teeth and red eyes. “Huh.”

Clicking on it, the page loads to a Reddit thread. Yoongi curses when he has to download the app, but his fingers move of their own volition, tapping across the screen as he creates a login and reopens the thread.

There are streams and streams of comments and links on the thread, a little overwhelming. As expected, it sounds like most heterosexual men overly-sexualizing women or asking about roleplaying – and yet, there’s a thread with a lot of upvotes that he clicks on.

Loss of time. Constantly exhausted. Nightmares of shadow creatures following me. Yoongi licks his lips, feeling his mouth go dry as he continues. Blackouts after sex. Not able to remember life before meeting entity. Dead animals –

“Kitty?” Yoongi flinches, dropping the phone on his stomach, hand covering his chest as his heart pounds in his ribcage. You blink in surprise, cocking your head where you stand in the doorway. A sense of dread draws a slow finger down Yoongi’s spine as he stares at you. “Do you want to come watch with me? We can put on Spirited Away.”

Loss of time. Constantly exhausted. Nightmares of shadow creatures-

“Kitty?” Yoongi has waited too long to reply. He nods his head and clears his throat. He wants to laugh at how ridiculous he’s being, shoving the phone away from him as he slowly peels himself out of bed. You grin and hold out a hand. “Thanks.”

Like a cat, you’re curled on the couch. Yoongi gives you a wide berth as he walks to his office. Night has passed into morning, and the flash of the screen lights the way as he opens the door, slipping through a tiny crack before he closes it softly and firmly behind him.

While watching movies, Yoongi could not help but think about the thread he had seen. He doesn’t turn the light on, too afraid of it showing under the door and tipping you off where he is.

Fear settles in the pit of his stomach. His hands are shaky as he wakes up the mouse, the computer light nearly blinding in the dark room. He jams the settings on the keyboard, turning it down a bit as he settles into the chair, taking a few breaths.

It feels ridiculous. You’re his girlfriend, not a sex-craving demon. But Yoongi finds the thread again anyways, clicking through and going back to that original subthread of people claiming to have survived an encounter with a succubus.

Time doesn’t seem to pass as Yoongi reads. He leans on his hand, eyes burning as he clicks through story after story.

Met at a bar – she was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I never remember going home with her, but my life was suddenly consumed by her. I lost my job and my friends. Felt good at first, but started getting headaches any time I would try to remember something. And she was always around, always lurking around every corner.

Yoongi clicks on to the next one, stomach flipping nervously.

- I ran into a friend and she swore we hadn’t spoken in months. I remember talking to her but it felt like… they were false memories. Like I didn’t really do those things. It was strange, but I forgot again after a while.

Taehyung’s face flashes in Yoongi’s mind. His palms get sweaty as he navigates the mouse, leaning closer toward the screen. A nervous beat starts to drum up in his heart as he pours over the words and the accounts of others.

The evidence is damning, but it can’t be possible, right?

Yoongi thinks of Old Ass Han telling the story of his son being swept up by a she-demon. Yoongi doesn’t think the story is very funny anymore, and the thought of Jimin dressing up as one makes him nauseous.

Carefully, he navigates to another thread.

I was lucky. She didn’t want to kill me, but she was constantly hungry for more energy that I didn’t have. She would get cagey and feral, hissing at me and hiding in the dark, like she was weaker in the sun when she wasn’t fed. I would find packs and packs of meat rotting in the garbage like she was trying to get her fix elsewhere.

I hope that you take this thread seriously. They are real. And while they look and talk like people, they aren’t. They might grow attached to you, but they don’t love you. You are a meal – and if your succubus is only feeding off of sex, it’s only a matter of time before they need more.

Think Jennifer’s Body, people.

Yoongi has never seen that movie before. He clicks away from the thread and pulls up the trailer. It seems a little ridiculous, but he gets the idea. Sex, eat the guy, move on to the next. But you certainly have never tried to eat him.

So Yoongi clicks back to the thread and searches for something new. How to get rid of a succubus.

He leans back while the page loads, switching to a white screen. This bright, the monitor reflects what’s in front of it, Yoongi’s round and tired face, pale from lack of sleep, and a looming shadow behind him. His stomach plummets and he goes rigid in the chair, frozen with fear.

Yoongi smells cedar. Jasmine. Amber.

"Kitty is looking at bad things,” you sniffle. Your shadow grows in the computer monitor and Yoongi swears he sees the white flash of teeth before his world turns red. "I loved you, Kitty."

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